#like it’s so polite!!! like walking into someone’s house you think is vacant but just saying hey hello! so as not to startle any inhabitants

[luthienne]

i love that we’ve just collectively decided to loudly and randomly say hey bear!! as a way of informing bears of our presence while out in the wilderness

[kedsandtubesocks]

what the water gave us

Merman!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: the fairytales were half true, the merman you found is indeed handsome but oh so grouchy

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, merman/human relationship, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older) instances of blood & injury, brief violence, Joel still being a terrifying force even as a merman, very light discussion of grief & loss of a loved one (Joel with Sarah & reader with their father) grumpy but soft!Joel, sharing food as a love language, use of nickname, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel, f!oral receiving - along with spicy moments, mentions of mating & merfolk courting rituals

word count: 7.6k

a/n: here it is - the nice final surprise for our mermay mini series, this is for all of us who would kiss fuck the handsome merman lol! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for letting me scream about this & to @the-wild-wolves-around-you for always being the best support - and to you, if you’re reading this, thank you so much ♡

The sun hangs low against the sky, painting the world in a soft orange creamsicle shade. Sliding your shoes off, you sink into the soft sand and walk the shoreline.

You love your aunt and uncle dearly. But having such a large get together at their house to meet the neighbors and their friends just got too much. It’s why you politely excused yourself and ended up here.

The crash of the waves, the peaceful quiet of the thankfully vacant beach, it all settles you while you walk aimlessly getting lost in your thoughts.

Until a sharp deep growl pierces the air.

The noise sounds close, electrifies your skin, and makes you stop. That’s when you notice trickles of blood in the water.

Petrified your eyes follow the trails.

Then you come across a sight you can’t believe.

By the long stretch of rocks leading out from the shore into the sea, a man sits half up on the rocks.

Older, distinguished in the wrinkles around his face and beautiful grays in his curled hair, his skin however seems drained of color. There’s also a huge gash against his side as if he was impaled.

Even though he’s partially out of the water, you notice, the skin at his hips don’t lead to legs. Your eyes go wide.

Another snarl of a growl comes and you realize it’s this man. His face fiercely stares you down in menacing terror.

“You’re hurt!” You blurt out.

“Get the fuck outta here!” He howls, even has an accent of someone from this area.

“You’re bleeding out too fast!” You don’t even know medical conditions that well to know this isn’t good.

On your walk here you noticed a few beach towels left vacant on the shore.

You immediately turn around and bolt.

The man screams out a curse, yelling at you to stop, but you don’t. Thankfully you don’t have to search too far down the beach to spot one of the forgotten towels. Quickly grabbing it you then rush back.

The strange man is still on the rocks, but it’s obvious he tried sliding down them in an escape. However it opened his wound up more.

“Wait!” Now you cry out. “I know this isn’t much but this can stop the bleeding for now!”

You offer weakly that you could maybe try to get medical attention, but even weary his eyes go wide, and he snaps out a fast sharp no.

“Then you need to wrap this around the wound or press into it.” You offer the towel.

“Y’don’t think I know how to handle this, ya dumb human?” He snarls.

Human. So he isn’t human like you suspected.

“Your wound is getting worse.” You urge now, promising you won’t get others but have supplies that can help.

“Do what ya fuckin’ want.” He snarls.

Gingerly, you place the towel down on a rock then scramble out of the water and head back to your family’s beach home. Thankfully everyone has moved upstairs, allowing you to sneak in, grab a first aid kit, then leave.

You just hope the man hasn’t left or gotten worse.

The sky grows dimmer. The sun almost vanishes beyond the horizon. And thankfully, the man is still on the rocks.

Yet his eyes flutter in and out of consciousness.

Keeping the first aid kit as dry as you can above the waves, you rush into the water towards him.

He’s barely awake, might not even fully notice you’re beside him now. But quickly you unpack things fast on the nearby rocks and tend to the wound as best as you can. The man hisses a half growl at the padding you place to stop the bleeding. Then you use an embracing amount of large bandages over the wound.

The bleeding doesn’t seep through the wraps and it’s enough for now. You’re afraid of leaving him here, but you’re more worried about moving him. So taking the towel you grabbed, you delicately drape it over his body, keeping his face open.

He seems human enough from his upper body. This mystery man is also handsome, scarily so. But the sky is getting dark, and you need to get home. Gathering your things you return to the beach house.

“Hey, where’d ya go?! And what’s with the first aid kit?” Your mom says a bit surprised.

You explain with a half lie that you went walking on the beach and helped a guy who got cut.

“Well look at you! What a hero.” She grins warm and her words feel soft.

That night you barely get any sleep and think of the man on the rocks. Earlier, when you were panicking trying to tend to his wound, you didn’t have time to fully look into the ocean at his lower body. But you caught a glimpse.

You saw a partial marine like body, a sea creature like tail even among the cloud ocean water.

A merman, you had possibly helped a merman.

Now you just hope he makes it through the night.

Scrambling awake the next morning, you make an excuse of wanting to enjoy the beach bright and early, and head to the rocks.

Of course he’s gone.

You almost knew he wouldn’t be here. A piece of you did hope, faintly hoped, he would be. Even the towel is gone.

Out in the ocean a loud splash, like someone slapping against the water, arrives.

There floating in the waves, only seen from the chest up, is the mystery man. He’s okay. He’s here. He’s alive.

“You’re alright.” You exhale relieved.

This man glares at you fiercely. It highlights his weathered wrinkles but also intensifies his handsome features. There’s an intimidating and hardened nature radiating off this gorgeous creature.

“Why did ya save me?” He flat out asks, and you’re stunned.

That’s what he came here to ask you about?

Your face even scrunches up slightly confused, but you tell him the truth.

He was hurt. You had to try and do something.

The answer does soften his features. If anything his eyebrows furrow harder.

“Y’fuckin’ tell anyone about me?”

For possibly being a mythical being, this man does speak very human. You shake your head no, promising you didn’t and won’t ever tell anyone.

He scoffs, distrusting.

With sharp narrowed eyes, he gives you one final look before slipping back into the water.

You sit on the shoreline for what feels like hours, but he doesn’t return.

A bit dejected and quiet, you head home.

Later, trying to get your mind off everything, you decide to enjoy the time you’re here and head into the water.

The wind provides a nice breeze, and the sea swirls around you. Slowly you trek deeper into the ocean letting the water rise. Eventually you comfortably float and glance back towards the shoreline. Your mom lounges in her lawn chair with the recent book she just bought. The sky, beautifully soft this morning, now seems dimmer with all the clouds moving in.

A wave crashes over you from behind.

Powerful and large it drags you under. You were so focused on watching the beach you didn’t even see it coming.

Now you’re under the water, caught beneath the sea.

The saltwater stings your eyes as you try swimming against the current. But you’re a bit disoriented and even trying to just float back to the surface seems harder.

Suddenly warm solid hands are on your hips pulling you up. You’re guided up to the surface. Sweet air fills you and you cough through the stinging in your lungs. You’re kept above the water, held up.

You whip around trying to see who helped you, but there’s no one around.

Someone screams your name frantically. Your mom and your aunt on the edge of the water shout for you.

Weary from the waves you slowly swim, practically float, back to shore before your family scrambles to help you out. They rapidly ask if you’re okay, covering you with towels.

“We saw you go under and didn’t come up for so long.” Your mom explains still very worried.

“Did you guys see that shark?!” From behind by the beach house, your uncle calls out as he comes running.

“Wait, shark?” You blurt out.

Your uncle rapidly explains how he saw the fin poking out of the water around you.

“Could have been a dolphin.” Your aunt offers.

“No, definitely looked like a shark. Thank goodness you got outta the water.” Your uncle playfully ruffles the towel over your head.

A few bystanders sitting nearby ask how you’re doing and also comment how they swore they saw the ominous shark fin swimming around you.

A shark. It doesn’t make sense. You felt strong very human hands on you. You knew a guiding force saved you.

But then the thick cotton clouds above pop and the rain comes. After heading inside and deciding to rest for the day, your gaze stays watching the harsh waves. The storm and ocean move in tandem. You wonder about the man you met, if he’s safe in the water.

Maybe it’s all the talk of the supposed shark in the water, but before you end up fading into a nap, you swear you see a fin swimming in the current.

- 𖤓 -

“You gonna be okay with us heading to the museum?”

For the millionth time you reassure your mom you’ll be fine staying back and getting more rest. The rain from yesterday’s storm stayed, a quiet downpour thankfully not as strong. After everyone heads out, you see this as an opportunity to head out to the beach.

With the rain, the shoreline is vacant. So with your umbrella you head to the beach. The murky water under the dim sky seems more mysterious and your eyes scan the waves, maybe waiting for something to appear.

“Glutton for punishment or somethin’?” The familiar twanged voice.

Immediately you snap your gaze to the side. There in the water, closer to the edge of the shore, is your mystery man.

You blurt out how worried you were about the storm and about him. His eyebrows furrow.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He answers muttering.

“And you,” he asks, nudging his handsome chin towards you. “Y’doin’ alright?”

Your heart jumps in your chest. He came to check up on you.

Nodding firmly, you thank him gratefully. You knew it had to be him who saved you in the water.

The man simply nods.

You swallow hard then blurt out if he’s seen a shark.

His face hardens confused. It’s actually adorable with how curiously his dark eyes shine.

“A shark?” He mumbles.

“Yeah, thought I saw a fin in the water.” You don’t want to tell him your uncle did as well.

“Wasn’t a shark.” He answers gruffly, almost a scoff.

You want to press more, ask if it was a dolphin instead when your stomach instead growls loud. Your eyes go wide embarrassed.

One of his eyebrows raises.

“Sorry, need to grab some lunch soon.” You sigh embarrassed.

“Then head inside, lil’ minnow. Go get somethin’ to eat.” He says firm.

Before you can reply he’s sinking back in the water. But as he swims away that’s when you catch it faintly -

A sleek fin towering out of the water.

The shark creature is him.

Also…you realized he just called you a little minnow and for some reason, you find it oddly affectionate.

The next morning a mess of crabs clutter the beach. Even the neighbors besides your family’s place head to the shore to admire.

“It’s like the sea wanted us to have a crab bake.” Your mom laughs.

“They normally don’t wash up on the beach in this many numbers, it’s odd.” One of the neighbors explains to your uncle.

While everyone eagerly moves to get the crabs, your eyes stay on the water hoping to spot a fin among the waves.

At night, once everyone is asleep, you quietly slip out and head to the beach. The patio lights from the beach homes cast a soft illumination. The crashing waves among the abyss beyond are strangely calming even with the darkness of sea and sky stretching out wide.

Patiently you sit at the edge of the water, not even knowing what you’re truly doing here.

“Persistent one, ain’t ya?”

His voice emerges from the darkness and your soul almost jumps out of your body. This time the mysterious man flutters up from the waves and is closer than before.

“Why were there so many crabs on the beach?” You ask quickly and curious.

“Don’t know. Crabs are fuckin’ weird little shits.” He replies bluntly with a hard grimace.

A part of you thinks he does know why.

“How’s your wound?” You ask.

Gingerly he lifts himself closer to the shoreline and then goes to rest halfway upon the beach allowing you a sight of his torso.

The area where the wound is healing up nicely and you even grin relieved.

But him being half out of the water onto the shore also allows you a better glimpse at his lower body.

Tail. He has a tail.

It’s sleek, a deep stormy gunmetal gray, that in this dim lighting almost seems like a lovely rich blue. Faintly you can even see the dorsal find at his lower back.

It’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful. Lovely sun and age spots pepper his skin. His bare chest is broad and seems strong. This man from the sea is burly, solid, and aged, a force of the water that speaks of his power that’s weathered the tides

You don’t even realize you’ve said something, much less called him beautiful, until your mystery man responds.

“Y’think I’m beautiful?” He sounds terribly confused.

“Weirdest god damn human I ever met, lil’ minnow.” He adds muttering.

“I have a name.” You huff back, gently teasing.

“Yeah?”

Your lips twitch at his reply, and you give him your name. This beautiful merman stays quiet.

“And you? What’s your name?” You ask cautiously but hopeful.

No reply comes. You’re worried you’ve pressed your luck.

“Joel.”

Until he answers, and you discover this merman’s name is so lovely.

“Don’t normally see ya around here.” Joel comments.

You perk up asking if he lives nearby.

“More or less.” A cryptic answer.

You explain that you’re here for the summer. After finishing up for the semester you and your mom decided to take a break out here.

“Younger than I fuckin’ though.” Joel says harsh under his breath, and annoyance bristles in you.

“Probably not as young as you think.” You argue back, even explaining you’re just starting grad school so the break was needed.

Joel scoffs, not looking convinced.

“Maybe you’re just an old barnacle.” You fire back, teasing.

Surprisingly, this man from the water snorts amused. The sound is precious. You want to ask him more, learn more about him, but a tratorious yawn escapes you.

“Head to sleep, lil’ minnow.” Joel mumbles.

“Not tried.” You huff, but another yawn betrays you.

“Mhm.” Joel hums, and you think you see a twinkle of amusement in his deep eyes.

There’s so much you want to say, maybe even ask when you’ll see him again. But rising up off the sand, you hear a splash in the waves.

The spot where Joel rested is now empty. A wistful ache settles into your chest.

However the next morning though, an impressive mess of clams and oysters are on the beach. A bright bubble of a laugh almost escapes you.

When the night rolls in, you again sneak back down to the beach. This time you bring some of the leftover sushi from dinner.

You don’t wait for long before Joel swims onto the shoreline.

You greet him with a warm grin. His focus however is on the container on your lap. His handsome scrunched up face seems grumpier.

“What’s that?” He rumbles.

“It’s just fish and rice.” You explain opening the container. “Thought we could share.”

“It’s sushi.” He flat out says and your eyes go wide. He knows what sushi is and you even admit your surprise.

“Yes I know what sushi is.” He replies a bit crabbier. “Don’t live in a fuckin’ damn cave.”

“Where do you live?” You ask now.

“Somewhere.” He replies flatly not answering, so you don’t push it.

Instead you return to the meal before you.

“Since it’s fish, thought you might enjoy it.” You offer.

“You…brought me food?” His voice sounds steeled, cautious. You realize how suspicious it sounds and how hesitant he would be.

“It’s fine, I promise.” You reassure and even prove it by chomping down on one of the California rolls. Trying to ease the tension you ramble about the different types of sushi you like and those you don’t care for too much.

You realize now you must sound ridiculous. You’re about to clamp your mouth shut when very cautiously, slowly, Joel reaches over and grabs one.

It’s like feeding a stray cat and not wanting to scare it. You can’t help but turn to stare and see his reaction. He plops it in his mouth and cutely chews thoughtfully.

“Well?” You ask a bit hopeful.

Joel simply shrugs, almost bored, not even speaking on the taste or if he likes it.

But you do notice he reaches for another one.

In the quiet night, you and Joel simply sit enjoying this space together. You try to ask more about him and about his world. But the dry unamused look he gives his answer.

Joel instead is the one asking questions about where you live, what are you studying for, and one question that knocks you out surprised.

“Y’dont got a mate.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you still almost choke on a sushi roll.

Stammering, you ask him what made him say that.

“Don’t have the mark humans wear that they’re taken.” Joel comments then moves to point to his ring finger where a wedding band would sit.

“Some couples don’t wear bands.” You argue back.

“Oh? Ya one of ‘em then?” He challenges.

Deflated, you mutter out a low no.

“Why?” Joel asks direct.

“Why what?”

“Why don’t ya have a mate?” He questions serious and his thick voice crawls over your skin.

You shrug, not knowing how to fully answer. Instead you half heartedly tell him you haven’t found anyone yet.

“Don’t sound like a good enough reason.” Joel replies.

Now you’re annoyed, even feel your face scrunch up at his casual tone.

“Why do you even care?” Your question comes out a bit sharper than expected.

Joel shrugs. “Just don’t make sense why a young thing like you is alone.”

Immediately you fire back that you’re not alone. You have friends and family that love you.

Now you stare at Joel hard and fully annoyed. His dark eyes scan your face while he stays composed, unable for you to read.

Your phone chimes with a text notification breaking the moment. You decide to call it a night. Joel is quiet when you move to leave.

The air hangs thick and tense. Internally, you try reasoning that you’re literally talking to a mythical being. This merman was bound to have a strange view of human customs.

You simply tell him good night and walk back.

Before you head inside, you turn around to the shore unable to stop yourself.

Joel very visibly is still in waves. His upper half floats among the obsidian sea with his dark eyes hyper focused on you. However once you spot him, let your eyes lock into his, the merman sinks into the water.

That night you dream of a man from the waves so handsome and real in your arms, but it feels as dangerous as a storm.

The following morning, instead of creatures fit for a seafood restaurant waiting, the most lovely shell sits on the sand.

“Oh that’s pretty.” Your mom even coos. It is.

Cherished and still in awe, you place the shell on your dresser.

Later that night you return to the beach again. This time time with a bag of chips.

Joel arrives hastily.

“The shell is lovely.” You tell him.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He answers simply, but his gaze stays eyeing the chip bag. Your heart warms even at his grumpy reply.

Opening the bag, Joel wrinkles his nose.

“Smells salty as hell.” He sneers.

“Says someone who lives in saltwater.” You snort munching on one of the chips.

“That’s sayin’ something if I say that shit is salty.” Joel huffs.

“They’re delicious.” You clarify holding out a chip to him. Joel’s face scrunches up even more, you laugh.

“What’s with all the sudden human food?”

You shrug. “Just a nice late night snack, thought we could share that’s all. Let you maybe just try more human food.”

With a cautious hard frown, Joel leans forward to the chips in your fingers and moves to bite it. In the process though his lips slide over your fingers.

His mouth is hot, wet. You even feel the brush of his tongue against your fingertips and try not reacting.

Joel makes a face as he chews, maybe not aware of what he just did. Your heart however rages fast and you ask if he liked it.

Now Joel’s eyes flicker to yours. You notice him swallow, notice how thick and bare his neck is and how you want to kiss it already.

He shrugs. You’re learning that’s a very common Joel answer and can’t push for more.

“Your mother. She seems nice.” He suddenly says.

You’re surprised he noticed her earlier out here. She’s been enjoying reading while you stayed inside enjoying a nice nap.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” You admit with a soft smile.

“Just you and her?” He presses and you agree happily.

“Where’s your father?”

You didn’t know you’d be discussing this with him. But you explain gently that your dad passed away when you were younger.

“Oh.” Joel’s voice pops a bit. “I… I apologize.”

You reassure him you’re alright. You were young, a child then, and appreciate his sympathy.

“Besides my mom always told me if I ever missed him, I just had to look up.” You tell Joel.

“What?” He asks and you turn your gaze up to the sky.

The stars are faintly out but so sweetly twinkling in the dark.

“My mom said my dad sits with the stars now, watching down and always shining bright to remind me he’s always with me, even when I can't see him.”

The words still warm you to this day.

Joel stays silent.

“And you? What’s your family like?” You ask returning your eyes back to earth, back to this son of the sea.

Joel continues to stay quiet. His focus now falls to the sand where you sit. You should’ve known he wouldn’t respond to something so personal.

“Got a brother, but he doesn’t live too close. He’s gotta pod of his own now.”

He has a brother. And they call their families pod. This information warms you, feels precious and rare.

“I had a pup.” Joel admits.

He had a child.

“Lost her many years ago.” He mutters soft.

Your heart shatters deep in your chest.

“Joel, I’m so incredibly sorry.” You tell him earnestly and sympathetic.

You gently ask him what her name was.

“Sarah.” A lovely name.

You glance back up at the sky. You don’t know anything about merfolk culture, how they honor those who have passed. But you can at least honor her the way you know how.

“Sarah is definitely up there too among the stars, watching over you.” You say reassuring.

The stars seem to twinkle back.

Again, Joel stays silent. You’re worried you might have stepped too far.

“Thank you.”

But in the soft breeze of the night, you almost miss his kind soft whisper of a reply back.

You and Joel sit in a soft silence for the rest of the night.

Waking up the next morning, from the view of your bedroom window, another shell sits on the beach.

This goes on for a little over a week. You sneak down to talk with Joel, even teach him how to play tic tac toe in the sand and discover he’s a sore loser.

Then beautiful trinkets arrive on the beach the following mornings.

Some were dazzling sea glass pieces you want to find a way to make into a necklace. Once he even left you a weather and a very old waterlogged broken compass.

You cherish it all.

But then one night, Joel doesn’t show. You wait, and wait. But no appearance of your merman. And no new seashell or trinket sits on the beach the morning after.

Again you head down to the beach at night. Still no sign of Joel.

You try not to get wrapped up in worry. But soon a week passes.

Now you’re worried, fully wondering what could have happened. You don’t even know where he lives to say you can simply go check on him. You feel a bit helpless, frustrated.

At the week’s end, your aunt wants to take you and your mom to a nice dinner in town. That night enjoying the nice meal, your eyes still drift to the view of the sea. Watching the soft waves, the dreamy sea, you simply hope Joel is okay.

When you get back, you head straight to bed and wonder if you’ll see your merman again.

In the morning, you almost don’t look out the window, like you’re trying to slowly detach yourself. But you do.

On the beach sits a new shell.

You practically fly out of the house and down to the shore.

Later that night, Joel this time rests on the edge of the water - waiting for you.

He’s never looked more beautiful in the moonlight.

You exhale relieved, welcoming him back. Joel’s eyes seem endless as he stares at you nodding

“Sorry, had some things I had to sort out.” He explains, even apologizes. You don’t even want to press why or get upset that he simply vanished.

He’s here and he’s alright. That’s what matters.

“I know it might be too personal, and you can tell me no,” you begin weakly. “But where do you live around here?”

You rationally explain it’s simply to see and make sure he’s alright. You even vow to keep it a secret.

“Worried about an old ass barnacle like me, lil’ minnow?” Teasing, he’s faintly teasing.

But you do worry about him. Even tell him that. Joel doesn’t reply for a moment.

“Tomorrow, come ‘ere early. And I’ll show ya.” His voice is as steady as a river.

You barely get any sleep that night. Before the sun even reaches over the horizon, with the sky faintly showing signs of waking up, you head down to the shore.

Joel already waits for you. He’s ethereal in the morning light. The soft cotton candy sky paints him in a delicate glow.

You walk along the shore while he stays in the ocean and you follow his lead. The guide of his fin from the waves would look menacing, the sign of a terrifying shark in the water. Yet you follow it without hesitation. Thankfully the pace is easy and you enjoy the fact that you simply have him by your side in his own way.

Slowly you walk further away from the familiar beach homes and down towards a more secluded part of the coastline. The houses begin to dwindle. Those still standing houses seem older in their style, rickety and abandoned.

Compared to your family’s beach home that sits further back on the land, these homes sit right above the water.

Weathered from their location, they seem like ghosts watching you. Eventually Joel leads you to a home that’s collapsed.

Halfway in the water, halfway in the sand, it is a cluster of debris and scattered remnants of a home

You watch Joel swim into it from the sea.

So this is where he stays. You find a small alcove to duck under and then step in. Surprisingly, the beach house had collapsed into a father cozy like alcove.

The echoes of the ocean softly swirl all around. When you glance out the opening, it gives a clear sight to the sea where Joel must freely swim in and out hidden by the cover of this remnant.

He’s made a home out of these hollow bones. He emerges out of the water, and his freshly slicked back hair has always made his face seem sharper. But here in the soft atmosphere he seems even more dreamy.

You earnestly thank him for showing this to you and even admire its coziness.

“Y’like it?” His voice is gruff as you continue taking in the space. Yet you feel eyes on you the entire time.

“I do.” You admit truthfully.

That’s when you spot the towel you gave him. It’s crinkled up in a ball, still covered in some dried blood. But he kept it. That reality gets logged in your throat.

You go to sit down on the sand and slide off the bag you brought. You didn’t know how long the trip was going to take and trying to add to the lie you told your family about going to search for sand dollars, you added the bag.

Now it proved handy as you pull out the box of assorted fruits you packed.

Feels like it’s been so long since Joel and you have done this.

Handing him an orange slice, he bites down on the whole thing not even letting you finish explaining not to eat the peel. You shriek a bit panicked, but he mumbles about you worrying too much.

“Well, someone’s gotta worry for you.” You huff back.

In this seemingly short yet expansive time you’ve known him it’s like you’ve become completely bonded to this strange man.

In very common Joel fashion, he settles into silence. Playfully taking an orange slice, you put it in your mouth then smile at Joel.

He snorts a faint type of laugh and it’s everything.

This time you also notice how close he rests on the sand next to you now, closer than he’s ever been before.

“Y’know…” Joel begins soft. “Never got to thank ya for savin’ me.”

His tender low rumble almost mixes in with the crash of the tide. You think of the blood stained towel still here.

“It’s okay. And you’re welcome. Plus I think we’re even now at this point.” You gently tease.

A deep hum comes.

“Ain’t like any human I’ve ever met.” He says even lower than before.

Something indescribable claws in you, and you glance at him. Joel is undeniably gorgeous, the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.

His usual slicked back curls are starting to dry, highlighting their light fluff, and you ache to brush back some of his strands. However his intense gaze bores unflinchingly into yours. It’s like his eyes spark a fire in your chest burning everything in its wake.

Before anything can be said, Joel suddenly snaps up sharply glaring out to the sea.

“Need to get ya home, lil minnow. Gonna storm soon.”

The sky looked so clear on your walk here. Even now it doesn’t seem like a storm approaches. But you trust Joel. The minute you reach the beach house, thunder rolls in the distance.

Later, in the shower, your mind drifts to Joel. Your thoughts have been with him so much. But now they cross into a more sticky territory.

Joel resting beside you earlier was the first time you had ever seen him fully out of the water. Your eyes snuck as many glances as you could trying to commit the sight to memory.

You knew his golden skin bled into the color of his tail. But his tail, now that you fully saw it, was magnificent. Strong, sleek and sturdy, it speaks of how much power he holds as a son of the sea. Yet you can’t stop wondering where his reproductive organs were.

You knew he had a daughter but you also don’t know if maybe he adopted her. You didn’t want to ask about merfolk procreating, but your mind swirls with thoughts of it. Thoughts of something slippery slick, simply Joel’s, slithering in between your legs clouds your imagination and your throat goes dry.

You’re so caught up in those thoughts, you don’t even head down to the ocean that night.

Instead you dream of merman and the taste of saltwater on your lips.

-𖤓-

The beach is crowded today. You should’ve known the weekend would bring in more crowds. The amount of people must have deterred Joel away from leaving a gift.

You admit you were a little heartbroken when you didn’t see anything on the beach this morning, but you understood.

Now you sit peacefully in the water and search for more shells in the sand to add to your growing collection.

Eventually a soft beach ball gently bumps onto you.

“Sorry!” The splashes come, and off to the side are a pack of three frat boy like guys.

“Kinda got away from us.” One of them says bashfully.

“It’s okay.” You reassure.

“I like your swimsuit.” The guys smiles, and you thank him.

“You wanna come hang with us? You look lonely.” One of them asks then takes a swig of his beer.

Politely you decline, but thank them for the offer.

“Aww,” another says, swimming a bit closer. “C’mon. Gotta be better than just sitting here doing nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You kindly try to stay composed, but you already don’t care for how persistent they are.

“Man just leave her, she looks like a fuckin’ prude anyway.” One of them laughs, and your gut feels uneasy.

Fucking pieces of shit.

You don't even reply, not knowing what else they can do. Skin feeling tight, you want to get out of the water now, and hope they leave soon.

They snicker and laugh with each other, talking amongst themselves. It makes your skin crawl even more. Now you really decide to leave.

Suddenly a horrified scream comes.

It’s male, pierces through the air with pure agony.

You whip your gaze around and find blood spilling into the water. One of the guys that was just speaking to you is the one screaming, holding his leg swearing something attacked him. Another one of the guys then collapses into the sea as he screams. More blood colors the waves.

“There was something in the fucking god damn water!” One of them yells.

Off to the distance someone yells ‘shark!’ and terror fills you fast. The panicked commotion arrives. You frantically scan around.

The fin barely moves above the waves, but you catch a glimpse before it dips below the water.

From the shore, your mother screams your name begging you to get out. You return to land but are determined to find Joel.

“I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.” You tell your mom.

“There’s a shark in the water! Just stay inside for the day.” She urges.

Promising you won’t get in the water you even reassure her you’ll have your phone on hand. With an apprehensive sigh, she nods.

You practically fly down the coastline.

Even in the middle of the day, no one pays you a second glance. Thankfully further down the beach the commotion trickles down until it’s just you and the sea. Approaching the decayed and vacant homes, this time they feel like guards keeping you safe.

Immediately you slide into Joel’s alcove. You’re not sure it was him, but something inside just whispers it was.

You discover a sight.

Joel sits halfway out of the water and snaps his face up to you. His eyes are what you notice first. Even with how dark they are, his pupils are now slits, reptilian like. Then when he spots you, they expand and dilate as his face crumbles.

He mutters out your name.

You spot his hands - now instead claws with faint traces of blood staining them.

Before you is an apex predator, a true hunter of the waters. And he’s glorious.

The blood seems to confirm it was him in the water. He attacked those guys.

“Go home!” He barks, a fierce growl.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask softly, approaching him with hesitant steps.

He repeats his words, roaring at you to leave, but you don’t. Even with how fierce and terrifying his voice rages, you move, almost possessed, to kneel on the sand beside him.

“Are you hurt?” You repeat again gently.

He pauses before barking out a quick no.

“You were in the water?” You question low.

“I…” you’ve never heard Joel hesitate like this. Your eyes stay on his claws.

A moment passes.

“Always try to swim nearby when y’get in the water.” Joel admits, like he doesn’t even register yet that he's speaking.

Your heart gets tangled in your throat.

“Normally I stay far away and deep enough, but those fucking boys… the things they said.” He snarls disgusted and vicious.

He attacked them because of you. That reality rearranges your soul.

You now gingerly reach down to the water and gingerly grab his hand. Reflectively he almost draws away.

“What’re y’doing?” He mutters sharp.

“There’s still blood.” You whisper back then start pouring water over his hands, cleaning him.

The emotions surging in you feel too deep and strong to describe, but they consume you. You rinse his hands, being cautious of the sharp edges, watching the water fade away the crimson more and more.

It’s quiet in the alcove. Just you, him, and the soft sound of the waves. When his hands are free of blood, you gather one in your grasp. His talons are sharp. He’s dangerous, and you adore him. You gently draw it up to your face.

He doesn’t stop you. You even worry this might be too much, possibly overstepping. But this feeling in your chest is so raw you can’t stop.

You lean into Joel’s palm and gently kiss the center of it as your eyes close.

“Thank you.” You speak, barely recognizing your soft voice.

Suddenly you’re jostled. Your eyes snap open petrified thinking he’s shoving you away. Only to find he’s instead swiftly pulling you closer.

You’re only allowed to process that in a blink before his lips crash into yours. You inhale sharp but eagerly scramble to grab onto him now.

He tastes like the sea, of something deep and ancient but beautifully Joel, and your mouth opens up to him wide and greedy.

You can tell he hasn’t kissed recently, or maybe kissing other merfolk is different, but he’s messy. Teeth clink and crash, but it’s fierce, truly him.

Like the surge of a wave Joel moves against you unleashed, and you draw him closer now moving to rest back against the sand.

Joel shifts moving over your body with a clumsy but earnest ease as he continues kissing you fervently.

Your hands run up his broad and strong shoulders while his hands, claws no more, now map your body out.

“So god damn soft.” He says hoarse and deep against your lips. Then Joel burrows his face against your neck and inhales.

“Smell s’good.” His voice trails off while his lips begin kissing and nipping against your skin.

Your body reacts, rising up to grind against him.

“Joel.” You whisper out his name and he growls. The vibrations of it rumble against your skin rattling your bones.

“Wanna mate ya.” He mutters low, as if smoke leaks into his voice. “Wanna make y’mine.”

“Please please please.” You beg him dizzy and clawing at him.

Joel licks at your skin, and your eyes close in bliss.

He’s a force, dizzying and consuming like the sea itself, and you happily fall under his current. Your swimsuit top is discarded and Joel makes quick work diving down your body to your bottoms.

Without warning he shoves his face into between your legs, flat against your pussy and inhales deep. The most powerful groan rattles the air and you whine.

“Wanna taste, want more.” He mutters possessed, clawing at your bottoms that you shimmy out of.

Now you squirm a bit self aware, very hyper aware, of how intently Joel pokes and strokes around your folds with eyes focused.

You even shift your legs hoping to close them when he growls.

“Don’t hide. S’mine.” The possessive nature leaking out of his voice makes you drip.

That first lick he takes against you, you almost come especially when he groans debauched.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, knew y’d taste so fuckin’ good.” Joel mumbles.

What he lacks in his full knowledge of your body, he makes up for that in how fervently he lets his tongue explore and dive into you. It drives you mad, and your hips trash trying to press into him more.

When you come, he moans loud.

Lips wet with your essence Joel crawls up your body in a daze kissing you as much as he can.

Now he grinds down into you and you feel a very new sensation, a hard bump against your core.

Joel draws back and you now fully see the new raised area against his front torso. His hand palms it, the same way a human would, and he hisses. You ache to touch him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You mutter.

Joel blinks back at you, still hazy in his dark eyes. But he leans down and bumps his head against yours soft.

“Starlight, y’sure you want this?” You sure you want me, is what you hear.

You nod and kiss him soft on the lips.

A part of you wanted to be afraid, to not face the growing desire for this creature of a man. But when Joel and you become one, it feels as if the world becomes whole. Like this is what it’s always meant to be, you and him.

Your legs sliding against his tail, his teeth biting into your neck with an aching promise wanting to break the skin, you discover a crescendo of passion like no other, a crashing of the land and sea.

He is yours, just as much as you as his.

Now curled against him on the sand, your merman keeps you in his arms tracing his fingers against your shoulder. Every inch of you feels sore but in a delicious way. You enjoy resting against his sturdy frame.

“You’re still so warm.” Joel mutters a bit in awe.

“And you feel nice and cool.” You smile wiggling closer to him even while being practically glued to his side.

“Can I ask…” you begin hesitantly, and he hums a rumble of a noise that sounds like he’s giving you the okay.

You ask him why he suddenly vanished for that week.

Joel sighs, dreary and deep.

“Didn’t wanna face how… close I was gettin’ to you.” The reveal makes your heart flutter.

Softly you rub against his solid chest then lean to kiss it.

“Glad you came back.” You tell him, and he simply nods.

However even in this soft afterglow, a small doubt trickles now in.

“Joel.”

“Hm?” He sounds as if he’s falling asleep against you.

“Is this… Are you sure this is okay?” You ask delicately.

Joel snorts.

“Yeah, s’okay.” He reassures you. “Been practically courting ya this entire time anyway.”

He says it almost casually, like if it’s an afterthought. Your mind however skips over itself.

You bolt up to look down at your merman still lounging on the sand. His face scrunches up pouting at the loss of your body next to his.

“Wait? Courting?!” Your voice shrills.

Joel rolls his eyes and tugs at your arm trying to get you back into his embrace.

“What do you mean courting?!” You continue sqwuaking.

“You sound like a seagull.” He deadpans. You swat at his shoulder urging him to please explain.

You even stare at him determined. An adorable almost bitterly bashful expression colors Joel’s handsome face. Those deep eyes of his dart away from your stern gaze.

“S’nothin’. Been takin’ care of you same way you’ve been takin’ care of me, that’s all.” He replies gruffly still seeming embarrassed.

Suddenly it all clicks.

A few semesters back you took an ecology course for a science credit. You faintly remember a lecture about how different species mating behaviors. Your professor even made a comparison of a man winning a game of billiards against another guy to establish himself as a strong opponent.

In essence, sometimes mating rituals were about proving you were a strong provider and protector.

Joel had been doing this all along. The way he protected you on the beach, the various seafood critters left on the beach, the way you also fed him, along with the beautiful seashells and trinkets he left -

It had all been his own way of showing his affection and intentions.

Your merman opens his mouth to say something, but you pounce on him quickly. You kiss him pouring in all your devotion you can, and Joel welcomes you greedily.

Eventually a text from your mom comes asking if you’re alright and it gently bursts the bubble you’ve been happily sheltered in. Begrudgingly you kiss Joel many times goodbye. He of course swims by your side the entire walk home.

Later that evening, you sneak back out to the shoreline and kiss your handsome myth of man so many times under the moon's watchful eye.

“So you’re mine?” You ask quietly among the crash of the waves.

Joel nods firm and steady. “Just like you’re mine.”

You float in a dreamy bliss and wish more than ever you don’t have to leave him for the night.

“Don’t worry, lil’ minnow.” He reassures you with one last soft kiss. “I’ll be in the water.”

It’s a promise, a vow, as true and beautifully ancient as the sea.

[yingletamiibo]

SIDE: Ghost

I've had a hell of a week. I'm supposed to be some high-stealth political assassin, and now I'm a butler for some fucked up scav! I mean, she kind of saved my life, but with how crazy everyone in this house is, I think I'd be better off if they executed me.

When you're a prisoner slated for execution, the last thing you'd ever expect is a yinglet of all things to buy your freedom. There must be some cosmic power playing a prank on me or something. That's the only explanation. I shouldn't have been on death row in the first place! I dunno, I guess I should count myself lucky.

When the warden came to my cell with that sca- The Matriarch- I thought he was gonna toss her in with me. Plenty of scavs behind bars.

But the warden stopped in front of me, turned to her, and said "This is the one," something like that. She got close to the bars and eyed me up and down. I don't know what it was, but this... Tiny thing made me nervous. Could've been that knife strapped to her tail.

Something about her seemed off. She was calm, stoic. Nothing like any other scav I've seen. I have no idea what she was looking for in me, but when she found it, she turned to the warden.

"Are you sure zhis is him?"

A chill ran up my spine. I realized that my fate rested in the Matriarch's hands.

"Of course, Matriarch Zelt. All evidence points to him."

"Very well. Send him to my estate."

The warden just nodded. Taking orders from a scav... I wondered just how low the guards had sunk.

I spent the rest of the day alone in my cell. I didn't believe it at first. Surely they were just fucking with that yinglet, playing along with her.

The next day they set me free. Returned all my belongings. Led me out of the prison. And I was greeted by one of those huge bug fucks.

I stopped in my tracks as they stared at me. A vacant stare, like they were looking through me.

The guard escorting me laughed.

"I suggest you follow the indrel. And don't run."

All I could do was swallow and nod.

I followed the indrel as I was told.

"So, er... Where are we going?"

They didn't reply.

"Not much of a talker, huh?"

Again. They didn't even acknowledge me. Just kept staring straight ahead, leading me wherever. Finally, we arrived at the biggest house I've seen. In the distance, I saw some scav working in the gardens. They waved excitedly in my direction.

We reached the door. The indrel knocked, and I heard a woman yell to us-

"I'm comiiiiiiing~!"

Sounded kinda cute. I heard someone clamboring toward the door. I figured it was probably a dog or something. The door rattled a bit before opening to a huge baxxid in a maid's uniform.

This had to be a prank.

"Hhhhoh! It's the new butler! Hhhhhhjust a moment, let me get the Matriarch!"

It was that same voice. The one that called out earlier, with this... Disturbing raspiness behind it. It was uncanny. She turned and left quickly. I was left alone in the doorway with this... Creepy fucking indrel.

After a short wait, the yinglet who visited my cell greeted me. She looked me up and down again.

"So, you're zhe infamous Ghost?"

I swallowed nervously. Why did this yinglet make me feel so... Afraid?

"Yes, that's me."

She seemed pleased.

"Come inside."

She turned and started walking. The indrel had already left at some point. I don't know how I didn't notice. I followed the Matriarch.

As we walked, she spoke to me without looking.

"So, 'Ghost'. May I have your real name?"

My mind suddenly flashed with thoughts of old fairytales.

"Just... Ghost is fine, ma'am."

"You will call me Matriarch, Ghost."

She didn't quite snap at me, but the calm way she spoke felt like I had a knife to my neck.

"Yes, Matriarch."

I did my best not to show how nervous I was. I think she bought it.

She brought me into a small tea room, pulled out a chair, and gestured for me to sit. So I did. She poured some tea for the two of us. We sat there for a while, drinking tea in silence. Finally, she spoke up.

"Zhere is no need to fear me, Ghost. I am no fae."

I sat up, surprised to hear her speak suddenly.

"I... I don't fear you."

I could see a smirk on her face.

"In time, you will come to respect me. You will not have to force yourself to call me Matriarch. It will come naturally."

I don't know what the fuck I got myself into, but at that moment I missed that dank cell waiting for my death.

[scentedchildnacho]

The security bait and switches I guess.......i think he is a pedophile and he can act out because to his politic the jacobin just read that to him gen x represents the idea that people accomplish the greater science by getting to act out whatever his psychicomachia fantasy conjures instead of public welfare

To them repression and sublimation has no relevance it's just social theory and the greater cause is accomplished by acting out whatever their fantasy life is

By pedophile I mean someone who believes we are all Gods children and should be kept like children to use however but the project did do questionable things to the families till I was like uhm really a library day for their community when there are like big houses around not everybody can just walk up to....

I will like the families much better when they stay to their community districts and just pick up a few books here or there and without the whole caravan because the library really is too small of a space for their community

More dr king there are like vacant homes everywhere that could easily be re zoned for their community so

The library has high voltage areas on it and those types of cognitive studies to children have already been precedented

Its just to cause the children stress till they collapse of third world disease already easily known and treated here and the families choose ecological not environmental settlements

Compared to Washington Park in Milwaukee Wisconsin which is also just a project the library area here is like pre pornogrAphy war 70s treaties

So I kind of agree with mean punk heroin homeless the families have settlements to leave them alone and they kept following them here

The library is a mean scary punk place and I'm for letting the researcher study street punkness it's im sorry but you all kept going at crime and you bothered them when you have really anything else

I think the inside security called the cops not the outside the pale one....

Anyway they called the cops because at first he acted sympathetic but now that I'm trapped here he wants to switch and get the cops to slander me and kill me like an heiress so I suspect a sheriff knows to not be afraid of the hygiene terrorists and started putting pressure on jobs to serve time if they won't reform into a better business strategy so they tried to claim I did something to get away with stealing personal information into registers

They just want to fill up jails with poverty and get away with it....and that's just disgusting

So I ask the cop to disarm himself because his behaviour is really inappropriate to a poverty call and normal people call a psychiatric service about poverty not a combative

The police tells me he will be nice to me but I say again why not just disarm yourself it's incorrect protocol to poverty truth is I can't harm anyone

Then he wants to know about a PetSmart cart I have outside so I just tell him it's just civilly disobedient and show him the sign on the cart that reads children could fall out of the cart

To me the upper management of the store could have replaced the recalled items with child friendly ideas but they persisted in endangering children and try to point his angry mob of dissatisfied jobs at me instead of turning on his masterly ness to them

I told him I just took it because I don't have any other way of transporting my things and I could get stress fractures on the ground from the blanket allowance and a child could fall out of the cart so to me that's what civil disobedience is a mean stripper that won't pay me and so doesn't pay her kind of wanted children either could hurt all of us and so I learn from civil rights activists how to manage situations to stop letting bitch rule with its selfish time

Its not really my obligation to care that as a grocer he could have delivered fresh farm packages to the jail he didn't have to make them take busses

And he was like the homeless coalition could give you a cart and I was like you can go ahead and try to put things in carts that aren't for the families but those are the families and I can take this because the children can't use it

If you ask me the border conflict got really bad and carts or buggies or behind the bike are for the children and children don't like falling out of

That's me sometimes about the stripper issues trying to get by I sometimes inconvenience their activity because they start appearing very selfish it's the upper management that sat and filmed all they do there so again it's not my problem that retail stores around couldnt forgive something there

I told him I am from la Crosse Wisconsin but he confessed somebody said I was some fresno chick that did things she did to justify detaining me here

That's why I don't get mad about a couple years of homelessness I was a job and apparently it was bad for something in some way but after seven years and many assaults and tank based warfare that's way over the top and I realize my job life was impoverished enough to say sorry about something and I never deserved any of that

I just said I reserve the right to be at least a few inches from the ground so I'm not completely shocked

Now I'm just like their just terrorists I don't see any valid politic to telling me to reform through detainment like situations

Well those people can take those carts because they tell the families they will top dog for their kids but nobody told me to top dog so I don't

Anyway the security isn't like personal towards me he just does that goes around jack assing at people it's the college guys he gets near and raps the table to wake them up it's the random punks he just kind of goes at everyone....

Anyway he tried to hit me today with some type of slander so he had to be in close contact with the gold bike nigger so that sort of karma is correct if people hit you they end up getting hit with whatever hits ya

Routine checks now cops know that I'm still here so hopefully something starts reversing so

So I have been homeless ever since like 2013 and it's been like this basketball game I played versus tomah in middle school where this larger more professionally developed and organized team just went at us in really mean demoralizing ways just really made us feel worthless and loser just no team spirit no tap out just everything the ref claimed I did was wrong though this big girl kept running her body into me molestively

So I think Jacobin is right their a more organized larger entity and whatever fuck fantasy they feel like they can do and I can't tell no bitch she can't rape

If they feel that their like the secret poor pretty girls really getting back at the whites then they want their fantasy

Well to those terrorists they are natives and history tells them they can be nazish at religion and

And their teacher pedophile that told them they can isn't wrong or anything

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied. 

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin. 

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  

Summer of 69 indeed.

[diamond-coral]

The Heist- Part One

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

You were just supposed to rob a government official’s apartment. Not Captain America’s. Right?

Series Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non-Con, kidnapping, strip club stuff, swearing

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a strip club, swearing, committing crime ig, nothing much really.

You sure as hell weren’t a criminal. Well- your record would say otherwise, but it’s not like this was your dream profession. You wouldn’t call yourself a criminal. More of a Walmart Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving too...well...yourself. Fine. You were a criminal. But a girl had to pay the bills. At least you got to stick it to the man, right?

You let out a sigh while evaluating your life choices. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream to be breaking into houses and apartments for some cash or valuable possessions. Technically, you were an artist by day, going to art school in New York, living the aesthetically pleasing dream of student loans and a sky-high rent that your shifts at the strip club were hardly making a dent in. But hey, at least one time you got to dance for Captain America, even if he was reluctant and a bit shy. You were certain very few women could say the same.

And that’s how you found yourself in the elevator of a cozy apartment complex, traveling upward toward your new objective. Bella, your roommate, literal partner in crime, and the only good thing that came out of socializing with your coworkers at the club, had given you a new lead of a man who was supposedly loaded and yet lived in an accessible and modest living space. He was single, and worked some sort of political job that left his apartment constantly vacant, specifically on the day you planned for your heist. A perfect target. Some corrupt government worker who wanted to live a ‘low profile life’ yet was dumb enough to settle down in a complex who’s only security was a couple cameras and guards. Bella would easily be able to freeze the frames on the cameras for an hour, giving security the false pretense that the hallways were empty and giving you the perfect window to snatch some fancy watches and some cash.

The elevator doors opened right as you received a text message from Bella.

Cameras taken care of. Now go pay our rent ;)

You exited the elevator only to collide with a blonde woman carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh god, I’m so clumsy I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bending down to pick up the clothes that had fallen out of the basket.

You bent down to help her collect her clothing. “No, I’m so sorry! That was completely my fault!” You offered a smile as you stood back up, but was met with a calculating gaze as she studied you.

“I’m sorry, are you new around here?” She seemed to catch herself and her demeanor changed. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you around here before.” She gave  a small smile.

“Oh ,I’m just a girlfriend!” you replied. “Just stopping by.”

“Are you Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked while gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway with her head. It was your target’s door. So the political scumbag’s name was Steve. Lovely. “I don’t think he’s home right now.”

Your brain churned out a fast response. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately for me, he’s always working. I just left my purse, and he gave me his keys to stop by and pick it up.”

“Well I’m just glad he’s found someone with all his work. I know it’s been hard for him.”

The two of you exchanged one last goodbye smile before she stepped into the elevator.

“I’m Sharon by the way. And you are...?”

“Olivia,” you replied, the fake name came out as a second nature as the elevator doors closed.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“Well that could’ve gone worse,” you mutter to yourself as you approach the door at the end of the hallway.

You slipped the lock picker out of your sleeve before checking your surroundings cautiously. A minute after proceeding to insert the pick into the lock, a soft click resounded from the wooden door, and it easily swung open with a turn of the knob.

As you entered through the doorway, you took into account the little bits of vintage decoration that was dispersed amongst more modern furniture. A small Uncle Sam poster, a couple of war antiques, and some old photos with figures that remained unrecognizable in the distance. This government official seemed to have fought either in World War II or Vietnam, probably making him old. You shuddered at the fact you’d called yourself his girlfriend, but Sharon hadn’t seemed to bat an eye. Either way, you didn’t care for antiques, as much as they would have sold for a hefty price. They were probably personal to him and as you walked around, you realized there were quite a few personal items that were no use for you. As you walked into the bedroom a glint from the dresser caught your eyes, and your chest filled with giddiness and excitement as you neared. Three beautiful watches were on display under the mirror that sat atop the dresser. A Cartier that would probably sell for 8,000, a Rolex that would go for 10,000 easily, and then a beautiful older Rolex. With careful hands you snatched up the two newer watches and placed them into the small knapsack you’d been carrying. After consideration, you decided to leave the older one as it probably held a sentimental value and wouldn’t give you as much money as the other two.

You walked around some more, occasionally picking up valuables like solid gold tie clips and little pieces of Stark technology, which you were surprised he had. You had to be filthy rich to support, much less afford, anything made by that war profiteer. You picked up stashes of cash lying around, which seemed to be a lot. This man definitely seemed to use cash more than credit card which wasn’t as common around people your age. As you were rummaging around his study for any pieces of fine art (which you had already gotten two of) or government documents you could sell on the black market, you knocked over a picture frame which had landed on a file that read CLASSIFIED in red letters...right under the six letters that spelled S.H.I.E.L.D. This fucker was a S.H.I.E.L.D official. You were gonna kill Bella for the vague intel.

“Shit I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. Senators and representatives were fine targets, all usually too old and skeevy for you to care about, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. official was dangerous and could get you somewhere worse than jail. Hell, you could’ve accidentally broken into Nick Fury’s place. You were screwed. So screwed. And you needed to get the hell out of this apartment. As you went to put the picture back, you glanced at it, before doing a double take and squinting at it in the dark room. Oh. This was much worse than accidentally breaking into Nick Fury’s place.

The two men laughing with an arm around each other in war uniforms with an arm around one another was innocent enough until you could finally make out their faces. Steve Rogers an easy enough one to make out, especially considering you were on his lap a couple weeks ago, and James Buchanan Barnes looked practically unrecognizable without a murderous glare on his face.

“No,” you muttered before quickly placing the picture back down. 

You once again assessed your surroundings. It all made sense. The subtle 1940’s vibe, the war antiques. Bella had said he did work for the government and that wasn’t a lie. In the corner of the room you spotted a large circular leather case that was partially unzipped. Through the slight opening of the brown leather, the red, blue, and glinting bright silver was unmistakable.

“No, no, no, fuck,” you muttered frantically as you checked your watch. You still had 38 minutes before the security cameras in the hall unfroze. That was enough time to put everything you stole back. You’d much rather work open to close shifts at the club every day for three months straight than get fucked over by Captain Fucking America. 

You scrambled out of the study, moving to the living room first to put back the authentic paintings. You grabbed a stool from the high bar counter in the kitchen so you could rehang the medium sized work of art. Your mind was racing. This had to be karma for all the horrible shit you’d done in the past. God decided he had enough of your delinquent shenanigans and set you marching straight into the arms of America’s righteous hero. As you finished hanging the painting you spun around on your heel, completely forgetting you were on a wobbly wooden stool. Your heart stopped for a moment before you regained your footing. Carefully climbing down the stool, you almost missed the subtle turn of a lock coming from the door.

Oh you were so done for. Your limbs flew everywhere as you scrambled to the bedroom, sliding under the bed right as you heard the door open. The rumble of Steve Roger’s voice was clear as he talked on the phone and it cut through the walls from the living room.

“Well yea Buck, obviously Tony’s gonna be a little cold toward you. Not that I blame him. I’m just thankful he didn’t start an entire civil war over it. I guess it’s just a good thing we’re not war criminals.” He let out a chuckle before pausing. “Hey Buck? Yeah. I’m gonna have to call you back.” Another pause and you heard some rummaging around. “Why? I think my apartment was just broken into. I gotta go down to security. Yeah, thanks bud.” 

Steve hung up and you heard some angry muttering as he walked into his room. From under the bed you saw his tennis shoes and dark jeans as he paced at the foot of the bed. You covered your mouth to stop your anxious breathing, afraid he’d hear you from your hiding spot. 

The few minutes he spent in his room felt like eternity before he stomped out and you heard the opening and closing of another door as he exited the apartment. You crawl out from under the bed, your head spinning as you attempted to think of a way out of your predicament.

The window.

Quickly and quietly, you stood up and made your way to his bedroom window, looking out for a fire escape and letting out an annoyed huff when you saw none.

‘Maybe there’s one for the living room window,’ your brain chimed.

You rushed to the living room, scooping up the two watches and your empty knapsack on your way, and almost screamed with joy at the sight of the fire escape next to the window. Your fingers curled around the bottom of it and give it a sharp tug up, opening it just enough for you to squeeze through. 

Just as you were about to lift your leg over the ledge and climb down the stairs to sweet sweet freedom, being able to forget about everything that ever happened tonight, a large hand wrapped around the back of your neck and wrenched you back with such force that you tumbled backwards and landed on your butt.

He was massive. Six feet of pure muscle towered over you as you trembled from your position on the floor. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in, blue eyes practically cutting through the darkness, and you let out a small whimper.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”

[chocominnie]

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright:  please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed  in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you.  ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.  

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to  make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.”  The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

[babylooneytoonz]

Sound of Music [Pt. 1]

Sherlock Holmes! Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary : Sherlock finds himself being curious about the occupant of the estate next to theirs, especially when all they can hear during evenings is the faint sound of the piano coming from the estate. One day, the detective inside of him decides to try and find out what's going on with the neighbours.

Warnings: none

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost, copy or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist]

It was that time of the year again, at Ferndell Hall, where you could practically smell the blooming of the most exotic flowers that you couldn't put a name to; there were lilacs and chrysanthemums, gladulas and orchids that lined up until the iron metal gate of the structure. The grass was uneven and unkempt, weeds propped up almost everywhere, but that didn't bother Enola. However, as the carriage entered Ferndell Hall, carrying her two elder brothers, Mycroft and Sherlock, there was someone that was bothered by all this — Mycroft. He looked at everything in distaste, grumbling in a not-so-silent manner as to what a mess the entire place was.

The day the brothers returned, all Enola listened to was Mycroft complaining about nearly everything, ranging from the ornaments in the estate that had been broken and left unattended, to the fact that Enola didn't have a set of gloves and a hat on while she was out at the station to receive them.

"How improper!" He muttered to himself, and to Sherlock and the younger brother of the two couldn't help but pass on a cornered smirk to the youngest, silently addressing her with his eyes, asking her to just wait until this fit of their brother passed away and he got just another reason to begin cribbing about.

Back at the house, Sherlock only gave her a half amused smile, as he sunk back into one of the armchairs with a parchment of paper in his hands, a letter that belonged to their mother, in desperate attempts to find clues as to who could have taken her, or whether she left herself with a lover. Although, he didn't let Enola in on his second lingering thought.

It was almost evening, and the sun was beginning to set. Mrs. Hudson had laid out the tea cups, and was pouring the gentlemen some piping hot tea when Sherlock suddenly turned towards the window in the dining room.

"You hear that too, don't you Sherlock?" Enola regarded her brother, who had now stepped up and was already standing by the window, his tall frame covering up her entire view, "that music.. it's captivating, isn't it? I listen to it everyday." Enola stood up rather loudly, and Mycroft chastised her for it, but paying him no heed, she followed Sherlock to fix herself by his side, staring out of the window. Just next to the Ferndell Hall estate was spread out the Cableton Estate, and just last summer's, when Enola and her mother were out in the gardens trimming the shrubberies, they had heard heavy noises radiating from the abandoned estate next door.

"Looks like we've got neighbours," Enola's mother told her, and in her mind, she made a note to go and visit the neighbours but for some reason, it never came up, and now she was gone.

"Who are the occupants of the, what was the name again-- Cableton Estate?" Sherlock turned towards his sister, bringing his pipe up to his well defined lips, who just shook her head, "Never really got the chance to greet them properly."

The screws in Sherlock's minds were turning. Maybe, whoever lived in that house knew something that Enola didn't know, or had seen something that could give him a major clue as to where Eudoria Holmes actually was.

Maybe it was time to pay the neighbours a visit.

The sound of the music was much louder now, loud yet comforting to Sherlock's ears. The Cableton estate was not as big as the Ferndell Hall, but it was definitely lovely. The front lawn was well kept, the hedgerows trimmed timely, and the weeds pulled out. Massive flowers bloomed in a line, and the air smelled fresh and breathy.

Sherlock's curiousity was getting the better of him, and Enola was just being Enola, looking around, holding a massive silver plate with freshly baked goodies layered neatly inside of it as Sherlock rasped against the door.

They were greeted by an older looking woman with a kindred smile. She eyed Sherlock carefully, before turning to look at Enola, and then the baked goods in her hands, "Yes? Can I help you?" She asked, politely.

Sherlock parted his lips, but before he could speak, Enola began, "My name is Enola Holmes, and this is my brother, Sherlock," she turned towards him just for a second and regarded him through her blues before turning back again, tightly gripping the plate of goodies to her chest, "We come from Ferndell Hall. My apologies, we wanted to make a visit last summer, but circumstances weren't as such."

"Oh dear, the children would be happy to see you, come on in," the older woman stepped out of the way, and Sherlock nodded politely, waiting for her sister to be the one to enter first as it only seemed appropriate. He wondered who these children were. As if on cue, a young boy, not older than eight perhaps, darted into the hall, almost colliding into Sherlock's legs, eliciting an immediate response from the governess, "Good God, dear child, would you stop running about all over? You've got visitors? Would you let your sister know you've got visitors?"

"Well, hello there, and what might your name be?" Enola knelt down, so she was squatting on her feet, to get to the same height as the boy, "I'm Enola."

"James, James [Y/L/N]," the boy nervously replied before he turned on his tail and ran off, and Enola couldn't help hide the grin forming on her lips as she watched him disappear.

"Tea?" The older woman asked, and Sherlock nodded, running his fingers through his curls, "If that won't be much trouble?" The woman waved him off with a smile and told them she would be right back, bring the tea whilst they waited.

"And what might you be thinking, Sherlock?"

Sherlock realized he was lost in his thoughts. He wiped his palm over his face, over his well defined jaw and looked at his sister with his eyes narrowed suspiciously, "A governess, a child, but no parents."

"Don't forget the mysterious pianist, Sherlock. Besides, the governess did mention the child's sister," Enola added.

While Enola had been busy interacting with the boy, Sherlock's eyes were scanning around the hall, studying the paintings that hung on the wall. They were mostly abstract but there was something captivating about them all. Sherlock clutched Eudoria's photograph tightly in his grip, waiting for the right moment so he could ask if the neighbours had seen something odd, and could tell him something when once again, the music filled up his ears.

He didn't understand it one bit, how clouded his senses became the more he listened to it. There was something raw, something painful lurking in that music, and although Sherlock couldn't put a name to it, he could sense the anguish of the person who was behind it. It became so unbearable to him, he began walking towards the source of the music, and Enola darted after him, frowning at how strange Sherlock was suddenly acting.

He didn't have to walk much farther, for the room aligned to the hall was the source of Sherlock's torment.

She didn't look much older, perhaps a twenty two if Sherlock's deducing skills were on point. Her dark tresses were short, strange for a woman living in London in that era. She was hunched over the piano, her fingers moving like butter over the keys and Sherlock, and even Enola, couldn't help but keep staring at her. Her side was towards them, so she didn't know she was being stared at. Besides, she was too engrossed in churning out the most melancholic melody to even notice that there were visitors in the house.

Her long lashes fluttered, her head gracefully thrown back, her fingers moving over the instrument without even her having to struggle to remember the notes. It had been as if she had been playing the piano ever since she was born, but she knew that wasn't the case. Slowly, the music that she was playing began dying down, and Enola, enraptured to say the most, unknowingly took a lousy step backwards, her back hitting the cabinet, toppling a vase over and Sherlock's breathing hitched.

The woman stood up, her eyes thrown wide open as she regarded them, obviously flustered and red like a freshly harvested tomato.

"Apologies for the intrusion, and for my sister's not so graceful ways," Sherlock turned towards Enola, giving her a stern eye and she just shrugged before turning to the woman, "I must agree with my brother. Um, you see, we wanted to visit last summer but the circumstances were such.. oh nevermind, we brought you biscuits?" She bit her lip, giving the woman a child like apologetic smile, and Sherlock shook his head silently.

His mouth opened to apologize yet again but before he could even do that, the mysterious piano woman turned around, towards the other door of the parlour. She pulled it open and disappeared through it.

"I scared her off, didn't I?" Enola drawled, staring at the vacant space in front of the piano where she sat, seconds back.

"I am most certain of that," Sherlock hummed.

Sherlock hadn't felt this level of unease in a long while as he sat there, his knee bouncing up and down, his eyes fixed to that one spot of dirt on the carpet, his lips puckered into deep thinking. He knew their behaviour had been way off, and was disrespectful, yet he couldn't wonder but think what had made her run away.

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hallway just adjacent to the hall, until the figure of the governess emerged, a tray held in her hands. She laid the tea cups down and filled up the cups with piping hot tea. Following the governess, [Y/N] finally entered the hall, her arms in front of her, her fingers nervously toying with each other.

She lowered her head, just lightly before she glanced at her governess and gave her a slight look, a look that Sherlock quite didn't understand. Perplexed, he turned towards his sister for help. For a mighty detective, Sherlock Holmes was as clueless as a lamb when it came to women, and their thoughts and their actions, and she was a complete stranger. The nearest that the detective could bring himself to deduce was the fact that she had been offended by the intrusion.

It was only when the governess cleared her throat, the only sound in the parlour being that of the clinking of the silver sterling spoon against the ceramic tea cup as the [Y/N] began stirring the tea in her teacup, did Sherlock and Enola look up from their own respective teas.

"Miss [Y/L/N] appreciates the gesture, and might I add, she thinks that the biscuits were just perfectly done," the governess turned towards her and the woman gave her a half smile, half blush as she brought the cup up to her rosy lips and took a sip of it. Enola turned to her brother, and then back to her, and blinked, "thank you. The next time, I could try chocolate chip."

Sherlock cleared his throat and turned towards Enola, making her go quiet, as his fingers slid into the pocket of his pants and he pulled out Eudoria's photograph. He slightly leaned forward, his elbow resting against his knee as he threw out the photograph towards the two of them so they could take a look, "we did come with another purpose. We are trying to look for our mother Eudoria. She is missing." He threw out his hand towards [Y/N], and this time, she took the photograph from his hand and looked down at it, handing it to her governess as she gave him a confused look.

"Did you happen to see anything that you perhaps thought was remotely strange or unusual?"

Sherlock was quick to grasp the shock registering on the woman's face, making it known that she had no idea whatsoever and he sighed, slinking back against the comfort of the armchair, his hand resting on his knee. That's when he noted something, the woman lifted her hands in the air, keeping them parallel to her bosom, as she began motioning something to her governess in sign language. It was only then he realized why she hadn't spoken a word to him. It wasn't because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Holmes, Miss [Y/L/N] does not have anything of importance that can help the two of you with your search. She hardly leaves the confines of Cableton Estate."

Sherlock nodded, his lips curling into the slightest of smiles as he took the photograph back, pocketing it, "Thank you for trying, Miss [Y/L/N].

[Y/N] nodded, and Sherlock noted the way her lips curved upwards, just slightly, her cheeks slightly rosy.

It was then that the governess informed her discreetly that it was time for her music lessons. Gently, she stood up, and nodded in curtsy, her head dipping just lightly as she took her leave and excused herself, slithering out if the hall from one of the mahogany doors, until she was out of sight, and the governess turned towards Sherlock, "You have questions, I suppose?"

"We don't wish to intrude," Sherlock's deep baritone went.

The governess sighed softly, flicking a glance towards the way [Y/N] had left from and she took a deep breath, "I was twenty when the [Y/L/N]s took me in as a governess for their lovely children, [Y/N] and James."

Sherlock regarded the older woman through his oceanic blue eyes, his fingers placed against his chin, as though he was deeply listening, which he was.

"Four summers back, it was a lovely afternoon, and the [Y/L/N]s were on their way to city, when they were brutally murdered. It's a miracle Miss [Y/N] survived."

Sherlock tensed, his earlier relaxed posture changing as he sat upright and glanced at Enola, before looking back at the governess again.

"Pardon me, but wasn't Miss [Y/N] an eye witness? Were the murderers not caught?"

"Unfortunately, she never spoke again. We did try our best to get her to speak, or even write but she decided against it," The governess arched herself forward, so now her voice was reduced to a mere whisper, "the police never found out who killed them, and the mystery still remains."

"The police can be.. er, incompetent but I can help if you would like?" Sherlock offered.

The governess shook her head, smiling softly, "Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I would convey that to Miss [Y/L/N] but I doubt she wants anyone to engage in this again. The last experience was not so.. pleasant for her."

Sherlock turned towards his sister, a weird set of expressions passing between the two of them, as Sherlock stood up, nodding courteously, followed by Enola who finally broke her own silence with a smile, "Thank you for having us, and apologies for er, our untimely visit."

The governess walked the two of them out until they were on their way to the Ferndell Hall once again, and Enola noted how quiet Sherlock was, all the way. As they reached the front gate, and stepped into the vicinity of their front garden, Enola turned towards his brother, her eyebrow raised slightly in jest, "You seemed fascinated by Miss [Y/L/N], Sherlock."

Sherlock's mouth opened, and he narrowed his eyes for a bit, trying to come up with the right words, but it was as if words had failed to make a presence into his mouth and his mind. He was already thinking, his thoughts revolving around a singular thought. Who murdered her parents? "I'm not fascinated by her but rather the story that stays hidden from the rest of the world, Enola."

"And what exactly do you intend to do about it, Sherlock?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, sister, once I find where our mother is, I'm going to offer to look into the murder of her parents."

Enola smiled, a naughty one but she dared not comment. She knew what was happening, but she wanted destiny to play out its course. Enola had a hunch, and her hunches were never mostly wrong, except perhaps for one or two. But she was confident that Sherlock was somehow captivated by the stranger that lived in the estate next to theirs, and that the whole idea of trying to find out who murdered her parents were just an illusion Sherlock's mind had formed, just to get himself another chance to be able to see her again. She didn't need to let him know that though, and she decided that it would be the best to leave things run their own course.

Over the course of the next four weeks, Enola and [Y/N] grew close. Enola found herself sneaking out often, mostly escaping from her older brother, Mycroft, to shelter with the [Y/L/N]s. Although [Y/N] never spoke, Enola began seeking solace in her music. She would sit in an armchair, right next to the piano, her elbows resting against its surface as she watched the woman play. It was a sight for her sore eyes, watching the woman crinkle her nose just lightly when her hands were so engrossed in playing the piano but a loose strand of her dark locks managed to escape from behind her ear pricking against her nose. She would let out a giggle as she watched [Y/N] scrunch her nose almost immediately, and she would have to forcefully pause with the piano, and her palm would fly up to her lips, and she would sneeze lightly.

[Y/N] found herself spending more and more time in the company of Enola. She found herself on untimely walks with the younger girl, her arm in hers, as the two of them walked in the front garden of the Ferndell Hall. Although she never spoke, there was now like a deep rooted understanding between the two of them that wasn't formed on words, but rather unsaid emotions. If it were up to [Y/N], she considered Enola a sister she never had.

This led her to have another starkly contradicting thought in her mind. If she considered Enola like her younger sister, did that mean she had to think of Sherlock as her brother figure?

That afternoon, she sat under the tree, her back resting against the bark of the tree, her hair fuzzy and all over her eyes, as she used her dainty fingers to push them away from her eyes. She was listening to Enola rant on about Mycroft, as she paced left and right, her hands on her hips. She was extremely done for, eversince Mycroft had told her about his intentions to see her in a finishing school run by Mrs. Harrison,"Breeding a proper lady, he says. Can you believe that, [Y/N]?"

That afternoon she told [Y/N] about her plans to disguise herself as a boy and leave Ferndell Hall. At first, [Y/N] protested in her own silent way, grabbing her hands and tugging them down, shaking her head but when she saw how important this was for her, and when she heard how commited she was to this idea of going away, she couldn't say no or do anything about it but to accept what she wanted to do. Thus, she wished Enola good luck, kissing her forehead, and let her leave.

After Enola left, [Y/N] found it terribly hard to concentrate on the trivial things in life. She hated spending time around her piano, she hated reading, and she hated anything that was remotely not worrying about the girl. It was only that one day, when a letter finally arrived for her, from Enola, did the nervousness that had long settled into the pit of her stomach, start washing away.

Taking the letter from her governess, she ran outside, clutching the letter to her chest, pressing it hard against it as she ran up the hill, using her hand to hold her skirt up, while the other held the letter.

Once she was sat comfortably under her tree, she rolled the letter open, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. Although Enola had not told much, the letter said that she was safe, and she was closer in her search for Eudoria. That was good enough for her to get her tension and the knots in her body and her mind to melt away to an extent. And the rest was done by Sherlock.

[Y/N] didn't realize how her running up that hill had invaded the detective's privacy. He had already been up on that hill, shielded from prying eyes as he sat under another tree, smoking his pipe. When she ran up the hill, the faint rustling and the crunching of the dried autumn leaves made his attention spike, and he lifted his blue eyes, fixing it on her.

She was beautiful, sublime, her face the colour of summer, of flowers blooming in a backyard.

Sherlock stood up silently, in a way not to scare her off. He could see her read a letter, her expressions dramatically changing, from a straight face to a smile. It had to be Enola.

"Fancy meeting you here, Miss [Y/L/N]."

[Y/N] had the clearest of faces that Sherlock could think of. She was as transparent as water, and Sherlock could read her expressions like a book. This was maybe her way of communicating, through her lips and her eyes and Sherlock felt he was mastering the art of it. She bit her lip nervously, her fingers tightening around the now crumpled parchment of paper.

"I hope I'm not intruding."

He noticed how she shook her head, her nose crinkling slightly, a bit of panic in her eyes as she quickly hid the letter away, shielding it within the heavy layers of her dress. He didn't comment on it. The truth was, he had been keeping track on Enola himself so he knew he knew much more than she did.

It's only when she shook her head and looked up at him, her doe like eyes meeting his for the first time, did he realize how his heart skipped a beat. The last time he had seen her, back at her estate, she had been withdrawn, but this woman was far from withdrawn. In fact, she looked happy to see him.

The look in her eyes was enough to tell Sherlock that she was okay with him sitting down next to her, so he did, careful to keep a good distance away from her, but they were parallel, their faces drawn to the vicinity in front of them. He wondered what was running through that beautiful mind of hers but if only she could tell him.

Sherlock and [Y/N] silently sat for the next few minutes, the silence being comfortable enough for the two of them to absorb each other's breaths. It was only when [Y/N] stood up, and nodded at Sherlock, did he realize that it was getting late. Out of courtesy, the man stood up too, his eyes falling on the letter that had, unknowingly fallen from her, and was now laying abandoned on the grass.

He bent, lifting it up and slowly, without even reading it, handed it back to her.

"Miss [Y/L/N]. Can I walk you back?"

A nod of her head and a smile on his lips, Sherlock found himself walking with her in silence, with his own smile reaching his eyes, the letter clasped to her chest.

A/N- Any feedback is welcome, and appreciated 💗.

P.s Planning to write this as an extended fic because my baby Sherlock deserves some love !

Henry Cavill All Characters Masterlist:

@bitchynicole @libbymouse @petitefirecracker10 @naughty-koala07 @maan24 @pterodactylterrace

Want to be added to my Henry Cavill All Characters Masterlist? Please let me know via my ask box, DM or a comment. ✨

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed �� much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[xiaomoxu]

Victor’s Mind Quest: Preference

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

This date is so LONG, so be prepared! XD

🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 🍷 

🍷

The car stopped in front of the familiar white villa, Li Zeyan and I picked up gifts from the trunk and rang the doorbell.

The door was quickly opened, and Li Zeyan's aunt poked her head first.

Aunt: Oops, you guys are finally here!

Li Zeyan: Aunt.

MC: Hello, aunt! I'm bothering again.

Aunt: Don't mind it, come in quickly.

Walking into the living room, a faint fragrance of tea wafted, and news was broadcasted quietly on the TV, everything was exactly the same as in memory.

Aunt: Brother, Zeyan and MC are here!

MC: Happy New Year, Uncle!

Father Li put down the teapot, smiled and nodded at us.

On the eve of the Spring Festival, aunt called and invited Li Zeyan and me to go to the neighboring province for the New Year.

The last time I accidentally celebrated the Chinese New Year at Father Li's house is still vivid. Thinking of this warm memory, this time I carefully selected gifts before setting off.

We exchanged greetings for a while, and while the aunt was going to fill the teapot with water, Father Li got up and called Li Zeyan.

Father Li: Zeyan, help me move something to the balcony.

Li Zeyan: Alright.

Li Zeyan responded and looked at me again. Before he could say anything, aunt took my hand.

Aunt: Go ahead, I will chat with her.

Aunt leaned over to see them walking away, and smiled.

Aunt: Let me take a closer look, I feel that the complexion is much better than last time, have you adjusted it yourself?

MC: Thank you auntie, It’s probably because I ate better recently.

Seeing aunt looking at me with some doubts, I smile embarrassedly.

MC: Li Zeyan cooking is delicious, I eat very well every time...

As soon as I finished speaking, aunt patted the back of my hand and laughed.

Aunt: Don't be polite with him, just let him do more if you like it!

Aunt: So it seems that Zeyan doesn't bully you anymore?

MC: Thanks to him, he used to bully me and now I am not afraid of anything.

Aunt: This child has been like that since he was a child, but if he gets used to it, he is quite cute.

MC: Well, although occasionally the tone is not very good, he never really disliked me.

MC: In fact, most of the time, he took the trouble to help me. The big things and small things in life, he always worry about me.

MC: I always feel at ease with him by my side.

The air was quiet for a few seconds. I subconsciously raised my head to look at aunt and found that she was looking at me with surprise.

I reacted with hindsight, and the temperature on my face immediately rose.

MC: Sorry auntie, did I talking to much?

She was about to say something when there were footsteps behind her. I looked back and met Li Zeyan's gaze.

Li Zeyan: It seems that I interrupted you.

Aunt: No, we're just talking.

Aunt: Brother, don't bothering Zeyan, and let them young people talk.

Aunt winked at me, got up and pushed Father Li away. Li Zeyan walks towards the kitchen naturally, and I stand up

Li Zeyan: Then I will go prepare dinner first.

MC: I'll help!

When we got to the kitchen, Li Zeyan handed me a vegetable.

Li Zeyan: Have a good chat with aunt just now?

MC: Well, I talked about some topics about you.

Li Zeyan: Someone is always flaring his teeth and claws, but now she is talking good things.

My hand washing vegetables shook, and I looked up at him with some guilty feeling.

MC: Did you hear it all?

Li Zeyan: Just a little.

MC: How does it feel to hear such sincere praise?

Li Zeyan: It is indeed an evaluation that only you can give.

Li Zeyan: But most of them are facts, not compliments.

I looked at the faint smile in his eyes, and curled his lips unconvinced.

MC: It seems that I have said too much good things, and you are used to it.

MC: Before, you would be surprised and ask me if I was sincere.

Li Zeyan: Someone’s thoughts are written on her face, of course I can tell.

He glanced at me pointedly, not to mention I know how hot my face is now. But Li Zeyan didn't seem to respond to my words, and he still looked calm.

Perhaps it is because he can always understand my thoughts, even if I occasionally prepare surprises, almost all of them are in his expectation.

Thinking about it this way, it seems that I haven't seen Li Zeyan who would be shy because of me for a long time.

I snorted and shook off the drops of water on the leaves.

Is too unfair if I am the only one who blushes because of him.

A new year and a new start, I must find a way to see the other side of Li Zeyan!

🍷 - At the Balcony before

Father Li: Just put it here.

Father Li: Thank you, Ze Yan.

Li Zeyan: It's okay, your knees aren't in a good condition for moving such a heavy thing.

Li Zeyan: Just call me from now on.

Father Li: This pendant on your key.... is very unique.

Li Zeyan: ....

Father Li: Is it from MC?

Li Zeyan: Yes.

Li Zeyan: She always likes these strange little things.

Father Li: Wouldn't it be nice for her to give you something she like?

Father Li: Actually, I'm calling you over is just to spend the time together.

Father Li: Just now I saw that she had carefully prepared so many souvenirs, must be hard.

Li Zeyan: Since aunt called, she has started choosing gifts, and she feels more caring than her work.

Father Li: Why, you're jealous?

Li Zeyan: Dad.

Father Li: Okay, I won't say anything.

Father Li: Anyway, you must know these things better than us.

Father Li: By the way, didn’t you say that there was a problem with the plumbing at the suburbs house? My contact has repaired it.

Father Li: The house has been vacant for a long time. I will have someone clean it up by the way. You can check it again when you go back.

Li Zeyan, Alright, would like to stay there for a few days?

Father Li: It's more convenient for me to stay here when I can't go away year after year.

Father Li: You take MC, there is good sunshine, quiet, and more comfortable than in the city.

Li Zeyan: Alright.

Father Li: Don't always talk about works.

Li Zeyan: .... I got it.

🍷

After a while, aunt walked in and put the wine and decanter on the bar.

Seeing Li Zeyan was busy cutting vegetables, I took the initiative to take the wine bottle and preparing it.

Aunt watched my movements and leaned into my ear and whispered.

Aunt: You little girl are very skilled!

MC: Learned from Li Zeyan.

Aunt: Do you like to drink?

I subconsciously looked back at Li Zeyan, he didn't seem to pay attention to our conversation.

MC: Actually my drinking capability is not very good. Aunt: It's okay. Let's drink later. Don't be too restrictive during the holidays. MC: But.... Aunt: Don't be afraid of him, this time aunt will covers you.

Aunt patted me, and quickly left the kitchen, leaving only the tiny grunt of soup bubbling in my ears.

I looked at Li Zeyan across the bar and deliberately brought up the topic just now.

MC: Aunt said that we can drink together today.

Li Zeyan: Okay.

MC: I promise to drink only a little bit, it will not be ashamed.

Li Zeyan: Didn't my aunt say to cover you? No need to report to me.

MC: ....

Nothing can escape his ears!

I secretly slandered, and I saw Li Zeyan picking up a few rock candy from a glass jar and adding it to the pot.

There were just a few wine glasses on hand, and I rolled my eyes, ready to try to take this opportunity to win a round.

I picked up a wine glass, poured out a little bit of wine in the decanter, and handed it to Li Zeyan.

MC: Would you like to taste it?

Li Zeyan: You only stay sober for less than five minutes.

MC: Is Mr. Li still can't stand sour alcohol?

Li Zeyan looked at my provocative expression, took the wine glass and shook it.

Li Zeyan: Why? are you afraid that you will be laughed at when you get drunk, and want to get me drunk first?

MC: It's just a little, you will not get drunk.

Li Zeyan looked at me for a while, and drank the wine in the glass.

Seeing him frowning slightly, I took one out of the rock candy can he had just opened, bit it between teeth, stepped on the foot, and put it to his lips.

Li Zeyan: !

Li Zeyan was stunned for a moment. I raised my hand and pushed away his hand holding the cup, and then moved closer to him.

The padded ankles began to sore, but the person in front did not bend over to cooperate with me.

I struggled to maintain the balance under my feet and winked at him threateningly.

Li Zeyan raised his eyebrows and finally bowed his head and approached me.

I raised my head to meet him, but accidentally hit the corner of his lips that wanted to bite the rock candy in desperation, but only a little sugar residue was left between the teeth.

The rock candy fell from among us and fell to the ground with a "pop".

MC: ....

Li Zeyan: .....

We looked at each other for a few seconds, I deliberately ignored the almost burning cheeks, and took a step back with pretending to be calm.

Picking up the rock candy on the ground and throwing it into the trash can, I turned back to the sink, turned my back to Li Zeyan, and ripped up the cabbage wholeheartedly.

Li Zeyan: MC.

Without waiting for Li Zeyan to say anything, I immediately raised my hand behind me to stop him.

MC: You let me calm down, I now-

Before I finished my words, my wrist was suddenly pulled, and a tremendous force pulled me back.

I opened my eyes wide and looked at his face so close to mine.

The warm lips contained my exclaim, and his breath instantly covered me.

My brain went blank, subconsciously trying to push him away

Li Zeyan held me tightly, with one hand behind my waist, making me unable to move for a while.

Li Zeyan: The wine is not good, the sugar is not eaten, you want to run like this?

MC: Wait, uncle and aunt are still in the living room!

Li Zeyan: I thought you remembered this when you bite that rock candy just now.

He almost said this sentence against my lower lip, and then the warmth continued to cover it.

The faint fragrance of the red wine entered my breath, and all the sound in my ears disappeared, leaving only the rumbling heartbeat.

The world seemed to no longer flow, as if no one would know what was happening in this quiet corner.

The little sweetness of rock candy left on the lips and on the tip of the tongue was repeatedly plundered, reminding me of the meaning of this sudden kiss.

His movements are slow and gentle, but I taste a hint of greed.

Until the tip of the tongue starts to tingle slightly, the cool air re-entered between us.

Li Zeyan rubbed my cheek with his palm and suddenly smiled slightly.

Li Zeyan: It seems that your drinking capacity is same as your IQ.

Li Zeyan: Why did you blush after a bite?

The sly tone in my ear made my sanity quickly returned, and I took a step back hastily.

MC: This is not the same thing at all!

MC: ...You, you are a foul!

Li Zeyan: The wicked complain first.

Li Zeyan: Not remember what you have done all of sudden?

MC: Iㅡ

Before I had time to speak out, the sound of my surroundings suddenly reappeared in my ears.

But Li Zeyan still held me in his spare time, waiting for me to finish speaking.

Faced with his visibly shifting gaze, I panted for a long time, and finally didn't say a word.

The awkward confrontation was broken by the sound of footsteps outside the door, and the aunt's voice rang.

Aunt: MC, come and rest for a while!

MC: O... Okay!

I was shocked, and immediately got out of Li Zeyan's arm.

Obviously it was a temporary intention, but I was the only one who was embarrassed, and he was still at ease.

I was a little upset in my heart and beat myself up again for this "overweight" behavior.

Feed rock candy, the plan failed.

🍷

When aunt Wang walked into the kitchen, Li Zeyan was seriously handling the shrimp thread.

Hearing the footsteps behind him, he looked back and said hello to Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: I heard MC is coming, so I came to help.

Li Zeyan: Thank you. For your hard work this year, and stay here to help during the New Year.

Aunt Wang: Why are you polite? Anyway, I am alone, and it's very lively to stay with your family.

Aunt Wang: And you're good at it, I just give a little help.

Li Zeyan: You flatter me.

Li Zeyan: What I prepare are the dishes that this family loves, and they liked it.

Li Zeyan: Besides, I don't have many chances to come back. I should cook a meal.

Aunt Wang motioned to him in the direction of the living room and whispered

Aunt Wang: I heard that you will come together this time. Your father and your aunt are happier than ever.

Aunt Wang: Your dad also bought a new pot of flowers and put them in the living room.

Li Zeyan: Maybe he wants to grow flowers.

Aunt Wang: But I heard people say that growing flowers at home is helpful for fondness.

Li Zeyan smiled and did not answer Aunt Wang's words.

Aunt Wang: You don't believe it? Look, isn't that good luck is coming?

Aunt Wang said with a smile and pointed at the corner of Li Zeyan's mouth.

Li Zeyan was stunned for a moment and wipe it with back of his hand, and a faint red trace was on the back of his hand.

ㅡIt's a lipstick that has not been wiped off.

Recalling what happened in the kitchen just now, Li Zeyan coughed slightly unnaturally.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, don't tell my dad.

Aunt Wang: Oh it's normal for young people.

Aunt Wang smiled and suddenly lowered her voice.

Aunt Wang: By the way, Zeyan, have you ever cooked for little miss?

Li Zeyan: Have.

Li Zeyan: She is usually busy with work and her own cooking skills are not good, so she takes every chance to come to me.

Aunt Wang: She must like it very much, right?

Li Zeyan smiled lightly.

Li Zeyan: She is not picky eaters, she says everything is delicious.

Li Zeyan: When she's hungry, she may still complain about this and that, and forget everything when she's full.

Li Zeyan: It’s so easy to be satisfied...

The soup on the stove boiled, and the sound of bubbles bursting, interrupting Li Zeyan's unfinished words, and suddenly realizing something.

He turned his head subconsciously and saw Aunt Wang looking at him with a smile.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, Iㅡ

Aunt Wang: It is fine, don't be embarrassed!

Aunt Wang: You are very attentive in everything you do, and she will definitely feel it. That's why you feel satisfied.

Aunt Wang: I don't understand any principle, but I think it is very happy to make food for the people that you care about.

Aunt Wang: If she happens to like to eat too, it is double happiness, dont you agree?

Li Zeyan retracted his gaze and nodded.

Li Zeyan: Well, you're right.

He didn't say anything, and took care of the last shrimp, and then suddenly smiled to himself.

He turned his head and looked in the direction of the living room. A ceramic flowerpot was placed facing the sun, and several small flowers bloomed on the tender green stems and leaves.

Many people hope that important things can have good thoughts. But he knew that even without this thought, he would hold her hand well.

Li Zeyan: Aunt Wang, what flower did my dad buy?

Aunt Wang: It's an orchid, what's wrong?

Li Zeyan: It's nothing.

Li Zeyan: He can keep it if he likes it.

🍷

After dinner, we played mahjong as usual.

After a few rounds, the elders seemed a little sleepy and got up, left the table one after another.

Before going upstairs, Father Li turned around and exhorted a few more words.

Father Li: MC, the guest room has been cleaned up. If you are sleepy, just go there.

MC: Yes, thank you uncle!

Worried about disturbing them, Li Zeyan and I go upstairs to rest as well.

When I came back from washing, I passed by Li Zeyan's room, and a faint light leaked from the open door. He seemed not to sleep yet.

I knocked on the door lightly, opened the door and took a look.

Li Zeyan was sitting on the sofa looking at the tablet computer. He seemed to be passing the time. When he saw me, he got up and put down the tablet.

Li Zeyan: Come in.

Li Zeyan: After drinking tonight, is there anything uncomfortable?

MC: No, today's wine is delicious. Sure enough, the sober time you suggest is the most appropriate.

I closed the door and looked back at his room curiously.

The rooms are neatly organized, but there doesn't seem to be much living traces.

On the desks and bookcases are placed many objects unique to the school days, and there is a skipping rope tied up on the storage box on the side.

All this seems inconsistent with Li Zeyan in front of me, but it makes people feel vaguely traceable.

MC: Li Zeyan, did you live here before?

Li Zeyan: I have always lived in Lianyu City.

Li Zeyan: After my dad moved here, he put my things when I was studying here.

MC: In other words, is this one of your "warehouses"?

Li Zeyan: More or less.

I walked to the desk, looked at the neatly arranged books, and carefully touched the decorations on the table.

MC: It turns out that Mr.Li lived a similar life to me when he was studying.

Li Zeyan: Isn't it obvious?

MC: It’s obvious that we all take the same class, how come we grow up so much difference in the future?

I looked up with a bit of resentment, and saw a few thick dictionaries on the upper shelf of the bookcase.

The red-covered dictionary of idioms was on the outermost side. Suddenly, I came to my spirits, cleared my throat pretentiously, and looked back at Li Zeyan.

MC: Li Zeyan, let me test you.

MC: What is the fourth idiom on page 16 of the idiom dictionary?

Li Zeyan: What are you saying?

MC: Because you love to use idioms when speaking, I once thought that you had memorized the dictionary for you.

Li Zeyan: ....

Li Zeyan's heavy sigh was heard. He did not respond to me, and took me to the sofa to sit down.

MC: What's wrong?

Li Zeyan: Sure enough, you're drunk.

MC: I'm not drunk!

Li Zeyan: All drunks say so.

I looked at him unconvinced.

MC: You drank a lot with uncle during dinner. Are you drunk?

Li Zeyan: No.

MC: All drunks say so.

I used his tone to return this sentence to him intact, and Li Zeyan took a silent glance away from me.

Li Zeyan: If I get drunk, who will take care of you?

MC: Could it be... you haven't slept because you're waiting for me?

Li Zeyan: Just realized?

Li Zeyan:I know you won't go back straight to your room, it is better to leave a door open.

There was a hint of warmth in my heart, I smiled and held Li Zeyan hand.

MC: Are you going to let me stay with you?

Li Zeyan: As long as you don't get drunk, it doesn't matter if you want to stay.

MC: I'm not drunk, how can I be drunk!

MC: And this room is full of your past, I really want to get to know it.

He stared at me, and finally squatted down in compromise, holding my hand back.

Li Zeyan: Come on, what else do you want to know?

I raised my head and looked around, and pointed to a medal standing on the desk.

MC: What is this, what award have you won?

Li Zeyan: Award of Model United Nations General Assembly.

MC: Amazing!

MC: I have heard of this kind of society, it is very difficult to join, even win the award.

Li Zeyan: Thinking about it now, they are all naive proposals, but they are a bit helpful for training thinking.

I curled my lips secretly when I spoke to this kind of academic bully, and pointed at another thing.

MC: What is that dark blue notebook?

Li Zeyan: From the school. It should be the work log of the Student Union.

MC: As expected of Mr. Li, I feel that you have been a leader since childhood.

My eyes continued to wander, and suddenly I saw an unexpected object in the corner. A certain memory in my mind was touched, and I opened my eyes in surprise.

I walked to the glove box in the corner, picked up a leaky football from the inside, and proudly held it in front of Li Zeyan

MC: It seems that you really like playing football, and you still keep it.

Li Zeyan: I just liked it when I was young.

MC: But thanks to this football, I can eat your pudding.

Li Zeyan: You just remember the pudding?

MC: Of course not, I still remember many details!

MC: For example, the look of the sand castle that you kicked, the weather that day, and the water cup under the tree in several colors...

I suddenly thought of something. I squeezed the football into Li Zeyan's hands and held his face in both hands.

MC: However, what I remember most clearly was you who were a little nervous and at a loss.

MC: At that time you were not such a serious Mr. Li.

MC: The height almost as tall as your chest now? Your hair seems to be a little curlier than it is now, and your face is a little fatter.

MC: It's the lovely brother Zeyan! (Zéyán gēgē!)

As I spoke, I made a circle on his face and laughed foolishly. Li Zeyan looked at me silently, without responding in a long time.

The temperature under my palm rose a little, and I approached him with some doubts and saw his pupils shrink for a moment.

MC: Li Zeyan, what's wrong with you?

Li Zeyan seemed to have finally reacted from his shock, took a step back hastily, and threw the football back into the glove box.

Li Zeyan: ... I'm fine.

Li Zeyan: It's late, you should go to bed, and we will be back to Lianyu tomorrow.

MC: Can I sleep on your sofa?

Li Zeyan: No, go back to the room to sleep.

MC: You just said that I can stay...

Li Zeyan: I changed my mind.

I watched him avoiding my gaze, and vaguely understood something, so I turned my back to him on purpose.

MC: You are shameless.

MC: Someone doesn’t often say, “If you want to persuade others, you have to give a reasonable reason.

Li Zeyan: ....

MC: But if you feel embarrassed, I can understand.

Li Zeyan: What am I embarrassed about?

Hearing his awkward tone, I secretly curled my mouth and turned to hold him.

MC: In that case, I will treat it as if you promised to accommodate me once.

I heard slightly heavy breathing, as if he was holding back something.

I turned my head and saw the complex and turbulent emotions in his eyes.

Just for a moment, his embrace entrapped this emotion and shackled me on the bed.

Li Zeyan: You want to stay.

MC: Iㅡ

Li Zeyan: You talk a lot today.

As if chattering to me was unbearable, he lowered his head and held my lips like punishment.

The teeth ran across the corners of my lips, I hummed in pain, Li Zeyan loosened me a little, and pointed his finger on my lips.

Li Zeyan: Shh-

Li Zeyan: My dad sleeps lightly, don't wake him up.

I was stunned for a moment, and then realized that a bedroom was not far away, and my face flushed instantly, covering my mouth and complaining softly.

MC: You, why didn't you say it earlier!

Li Zeyan: Now you know.

I stared at Li Zeyan angrily, but this did not sway what he wanted to do.

He broke off my tense hands, put one hand under the back of my neck, raised my head slightly and then pressed it down again.

This time his movements were lightened a bit, and the tip of his tongue brushed my lips, igniting an uncontrollable swipe and then following his deep into more corners.

Lips were sore and numb, the warm mouth was wet with breathing, and the oxygen seemed to become thin.

The slight dizziness made me subconsciously want to seek support and grabbed his shirt indiscriminately with both hands.

The body was shackled, I passively followed him, and gradually fell into it.

The sound of the clock is still heard. He didn't pause time as calmly as during the day, and at this moment, I didn't care about the world around me.

The menacing lingering crumpled each other's clothes, the pendant between my neck also slid to one side onto the bed, making an undetectable muffled noise.

As a reminder, he finally slowly ended this silent but intense kiss, with his bridge nose pressed lightly on my cheek.

Except for the unresolved breathing, there was no sound in the silent night. We looked at each other in silence for a while, and Li Zeyan suddenly looked away and got up.

Seeing that I was still holding his shirt, he paused, took my hand and gently pulled it off the shirt.

MC: Li Zeyan...

Li Zeyan: Go to sleep now.

MC: ..... What?

Li Zeyan: You sleep here, I'll go to the guest room.

Li Zeyan didn't give me time to react. After speaking, he hurriedly left the room without looking back.

I froze for a while, slowly got up from the bed, and looked at the door in a daze.

I opened my palm and recalled the heat when my palm touched his cheek.

Was he.... shy just now?

Was it because of this kiss? But during the day, he was still quite comfortable in the kitchen.

Although I haven't figured out the reason for the time being, I am still secretly proud.

MC: It turns out that you are still shy.

🍷

The morning sun fell on my face through the car window, and I subconsciously raised my arm.

Last night I couldn't sleep but recall the shy Li Zeyan. The more I think about it, the less sleepy I feel. The sleepiness has accumulated to this day, and I have to sleep on the way back.

Is rare seeing Li Zeyan didn't despise me, and just playing soothing music all the way.

I don't know how long it was driving, the car finally stopped. The warm light on the eyelids disappeared for a moment, and the familiar breath approached me.

Li Zeyan: MC, wake up. We're here.

I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked out the window, only to find that the surrounding scenery was not familiar to me.

A small single-family building is located on a quiet roadside, and a fence at the door encloses a small garden with greenery.

If you look closely, there are almost no leaves and weeds in the garden. It seems that it has just been trimmed.

MC: Where is this? Aren't we going home?

Li Zeyan: I live in my house on the outskirts of the city, and my family will live here when they come to Lianyu City occasionally.

Li Zeyan: My dad asked someone to repair the pipeline a year ago, and by the way, he cleaned it and asked me to take you over to rest for a few days.

Li Zeyan opened the door, and I looked at the room in front of me with some surprise.

The decoration is still simple, but the colors are softer than Li Zeyan's home, and there is a sense of warmth everywhere.

The sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows almost without obstruction, warmly wrapping every corner.

Looking out from the window, the greenery covers the field of vision, and a few undefeated roses dotted it, giving me the illusion of being on vacation.

MC: It's so beautiful. Thank you Uncle and Mr. Li for your hard work.

After I finished speaking, I couldn't help but yawn. Li Zeyan pulled my suitcase and took me to the bedroom.

Li Zeyan: You can wait until your eyelids stop fighting.

Li Zeyan: Go to bed first, call me if something happens.

MC: Alright.

I simply packed up and opened the suitcase, but did not find my pajamas.

I thought back to the situation when I packed my luggage in the morning, but at that time, I hardly had any impression.

MC: I slept in Li Zeyan's room last night...Did he accidentally put the wrong luggage?

Thinking about this, I decided to ask him directly.

MC: Li Zeyan, where are you?

Li Zeyan: Here.

His voice came from behind a door not far away. I stepped forward and pushed open the door in front of me. After seeing the scene inside, I was completely stunned.

In front of me is a walk-in cloakroom that is almost only seen in movies. The clothes are neatly stored in a cabinet surrounded on three sides.

Li Zeyan was standing in front of one of the closets, and his profile was illuminated by the light from the spotlight.

He changed into a loose dressing gown, and his belt was casually tied around his waist.

The soft cloth was attached to him, clearly delineating strong lines.

Before he had time to arrange his collar, the collar was wide open, revealing his large tight muscles, which formed a sharp contrast with the dark morning gown.

The heartbeat speeded up uncontrollably, I stopped where I was a little bewildered, but my eyes were surely stuck to him.

Li Zeyan: What's wrong?

Hearing his voice, I regained my senses a bit, swallowed my saliva and then spoke.

MC: Um. I didn't find my pajamas. Maybe I put it in the wrong suitcase.

Li Zeyan: Let me check my suitcase.

Li Zeyan turned and walked out, and I caught a glimpse of a stack of shirts neatly stacked in the closet.

A thought suddenly came to my mind, I subconsciously stopped Li Zeyan.

MC: Wait!

MC: I, I suddenly remembered that I accidentally soiled my pajamas, can I borrow one from President Li?

Li Zeyan: You won’t sleep well wearing them.

Even though he said that, he rummaged in the closet, picked out a white shirt and handed it to me.

Li Zeyan: This one is a little softer, try if it's comfortable enough.

I took the shirt and compared it quietly to myself. I just placed it on my thigh. The light fabric was slightly transparent.

MC: .... Is it a bit too short?

A touch of heat climbed to the tip of my ears, and I looked at the mirror with some hesitation in my heart.

But when I thought about Li Zeyan's shy look last night, I built my courage and planned to try again.

I hugged the shirt in my hand, turned back and walked out, thanking him.

MC: Then I'll try it. Thanks Mr. Li!

Li Zeyan pulled out a pair of summer shorts from the bottom of the closet, and was about to pass it to the girl behind him, only to find that she had hurried away.

He looked at the direction the girl was leaving, and sighed softly.

Li Zeyan: Not even let people to finish talking.

He simply cleaned up the messy clothes, remembering that the girl hadn't eaten breakfast, and then went back to the bedroom door and knocked gently, plan to ask her if she is hungry.

There was no response from the room, and he opened the door somewhat suspicious.

Li Zeyan: MC.

Li Zeyan: ....!

Although a short time has passed, the girl has fallen asleep holding her pillow, and the shirt she borrowed from him just now is loosely wrapped around her.

She did not cover the quilt and forgot to close the curtains. The sunlight spread across her back, faintly reflecting the lines hidden under the shirt.

He stood on the spot awkwardly, holding the doorknob in a dilemma.

She seemed to be not sleeping well, spit out a few small babbles, and buried her face in the pillow again.

Li Zeyan sighed, walked over lightly, closed the curtains, and covered her with the quilt.

Then he reached out and gently pushed her forehead, lowering his voice to remind her.

Li Zeyan: Don't bury your face in the pillow.

MC: Hmm.. Li Zeyan.

Li Zeyan: Yes?

MC: ...lovely...

Li Zeyan: ....

He looked at her smirk in her sleep, the same expression she had when she said the name last night.

Unspeakable emotions came to his mind again, he immediately got up and left the bedroom, leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

Li Zeyan: Dummy.

When I opened my eyes again, the sky was already dark.

I looked at the tightly covered quilt and rubbed my head with some annoyance.

I wanted to change into a shirt and wait for him, but the bed in the bedroom was so comfortable that I fell asleep after lying down for a while.

I sat up and looked up at the long sleeves.

Probably because of his breath enveloping me, I can sleep so peacefully.

Although a little unwilling, I understand that this is how Li Zeyan expresses his feelings.

MC: Li Zeyan, you are a fool.

I couldn't help but murmured, but my heart was warm

Fragile noises came from the kitchen downstairs. I felt my flat stomach, changed my clothes and ran downstairs.

Li Zeyan turned his head when he heard the sound, still with a familiar expression on his face.

Li Zeyan: Finally woke up, I thought you were going to sleep till tomorrow

MC: How could I miss the dinner you cooked?

MC: But speaking of this, I also want to thank Mr. Li for helping me cover the quilt.

Li Zeyan: You're welcome, I just don't want to turn the vacation into taking care a fool who caught a cold.

I curled my lips secretly, but I got close to him and looked at the food in the pot curiously.

Seeing me poking my head aside, Li Zeyan stuffed the spoon into my hand.

Li Zeyan: Come and help if you want to eat early.

The warm yellow light illuminates this corner, Li Zeyan and I are standing side by side beside the flow desk.

Although the pajama plan has also failed, I am still very satisfied to have a vacation where I can see Li Zeyan as soon as I open my eyes.

I temporarily leave those careful thoughts behind and earnestly enjoy the peaceful time with him.

🍷

After dinner together, I began to wander around the house curiously.

Perhaps it is because in the suburbs, the night is extremely quiet, and there is no large light source when looking out from the window.

I was about to go back to find Li Zeyan, when I heard a "pop" in my ear, and the light in front of me went out for an instant.

MC: What happened?

Li Zeyan: MC!

Li Zeyan's voice sounded not far away, and a beam of silver light quickly lit up in the darkness.

Li Zeyan: Stand still, I'm here.

MC: Alright.

I watched the beam approach, stretched out my hand forward, and was quickly held by the warm palm.

Li Zeyan: It must be a power failure. The line has just been repaired and may be a bit unstable.

MC: Fortunately, we came together, otherwise we would be a little scared in such a big house alone.

Li Zeyan: What's so scary?

MC: Because it's so quiet here, it's dark at night

MC: And most of the plots in the movie that went into the room at midnight to commit crimes started from a sudden power failure.

I just wanted to make a joke, but after I finished speaking, I felt a little nervous and subconsciously hugged Li Zeyan's arm.

MC: Well, we should close the doors and windows, right?

Li Zeyan: I checked it while you were asleep.

Li Zeyan: Someone slept recklessly from day to night, but now she thinks of it and worry.

Thinking back to the shameful experience of falling asleep in bed, I smiled embarrassedly.

MC: I was so sleepy at the time... but Mr.Li is so attentive!

Li Zeyan: Enough with your random thoughts, let's go. Let's take a look for the switch.

I followed Li Zeyan to the gate. He used a flashlight to illuminate the switch on the wall, and the master switch pointed to "OFF".

He closed the switch lightly, and the lights in the room turned on again, and I squinted uncomfortably.

Li Zeyan: Alright, don't be afraid now.

MC: Okay.

Li Zeyan: I will check the electrical appliances again.

MC: Okay.

Li Zeyan: How long do you want to hold like this?

I was stunned for a moment, only to realize that I was still holding his arm.

Li Zeyan looked at me with some amusement. I tried to ignore the heat on my face and hugged him tighter.

MC: That's my intention, I want to go with you.

Li Zeyan: Why, stick to others without drinking today?

MC: It has nothing to do with drinking!

MC: Just in case the power goes off again, I can also help you with the flashlight.

I just made up excuses, Li Zeyan glanced at me, but put the flashlight in my hand.

Li Zeyan: This excuse is stupid, try another one next time.

MC: But you still accepted it.

Li Zeyan: I'm afraid that certain someone wouldn't sleep in the middle of the night and think about it.

MC: This is not something I can control.

MC: But if you are by my side, I have no time to think about other things.

Li Zeyan's movements seemed to pause for a moment. I didn't look up at him, but heard a deep smile came from him.

Li Zeyan: This excuse is good, I accept it.

The overlapping arms made the two of us close together, and the familiar temperature seemed to iron out all the anxiety in my heart.

Being able to stick to him with this confidence is a rare privilege.

When there are only two of us, let me use the privilege a few more times.

🍷

After yesterday's restorative sleep, I finally regained my energy this morning, and Li Zeyan's door was still closed when I got up.

It's rare that I got up earlier than him. I sneaked into the kitchen and pulled out some simple ingredients from the refrigerator to make breakfast, intending to surprise him.

As soon as I put the sandwiches on the table, I saw Li Zeyan buttoning his shirt while walking towards me.

MC: Li Zeyan, Good Morning!

He seemed stunned when he saw me and nodded slightly

Li Zeyan: Morning.

MC: Thank you, Mr. Li, for taking care of me yesterday. I will take care of today breakfast.

MC: You sit and wait for a while, it will be done soon.

I eagerly pulled the chair away, but Li Zeyan didn't sit down, just leaned against the table and watched me busy.

I made up the ice coffee, walked back to the table, and handed one of them to Li Zeyan.

This is the recipe I just learned a few days ago. Let's start with new flavors in the new year!

Li Zeyan looked at me, then glanced at the messy table, and sighed helplessly.

Li Zeyan: It seems you are very familiar no matter where you are...

MC: Hehe, because this is your home. Besides, I am very interested in the places related to you.

MC: The day before yesterday, I met my friend, Xiao Li. Maybe I can meet a different person today.

Xiao Li means Little Li, I'll just use Xiao Li since it sounds cute LOL

Li Zeyan: Then you may be disappointed.

Li Zeyan: I haven't come to this house much, and there is nothing to be curious about.

MC: Then... let's create more memories here!

MC: But in this case...

MC: Whether it is Xiao Li, Mr. Li or ordinary citizen Li Zeyan, can I have them all?

Li Zeyan was silent for a while and walked to me.

Li Zeyan: Don't you want them all? It seems you miss one. Right?

MC: Huh?

I was stunned for a moment. I didn't expect him to be more serious and had to think about his other identities seriously.

MC: Also.... Chef Li?

Li Zeyan: Wrong.

MC: Teacher Li?

Li Zeyan: Wrong

MC: .....It can't be Yan Yan, right?

I spoke carefully, and as expected, I received a merciless glance from Li Zeyan.

He leaned over and stopped me at the table. His narrow eyes looking me tightly.

Li Zeyan: Are you really stupid or pretending to be stupid, you mentioned it the day before yesterday, and you forgot it today?

I blinked and recalled the conversation from that day over and over again.

In addition to visiting his old things in his student days, there seems to be some important details that I have overlooked...

I looked at the face right in front of me, and there was a vaguely blushing face in my mind that night, holding the football I gave him in my hand.

It seemed that a corner of my heart was suddenly lit, and I suddenly realized what he was referring to.

Seems to know the answer, my heartbeat started to speed up somehow. But instead of answering directly, I suddenly wanted to tease him first.

MC: I was drunk that night.

Li Zeyan: Who said she wasn't drunk that night?

MC: Don't all drunks say that?

Li Zeyan: .....

Li Zeyan exhaled slowly, pinching my waist with one hand along his side.

Li Zeyan: Well, since someone chooses to forget, then I will help you remember.

The next second I suddenly felt like my feet were vacant and I was hugged by Li Zeyan.

Before I could react, the slippers slipped off the back of my feetㅡ

He hugged me to the dining table behind me. My skin suddenly touched the marble countertop. I couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.

MC: So cold!

I subconsciously curled up to avoid the cold table, Li Zeyan took my ankle and pulled forward.

I almost plunged into his arms and hurriedly stepped on his legs with my feet to control the balance.

I held the glass in my hand, and was about to check whether his clothes were soiled, when a shadow suddenly covered me

Li Zeyan leaned close to me, blocking the sunlight from the skylight behind him.

Li Zeyan: I remember someone said the other day, drinking just a little alcohol will never be ashamed?

MC: I really didn’t drink a lot! It’s just my energy is a bit extra.

Li Zeyan: Well, it seems that I still remember this words.

As if giving a reward, he sent a soft kiss on my forehead.

Li Zeyan: Because the energy is a little bit extra, instead of going to bed, you ran to my room.

MC: I just want to see if you sleep or not.

Li Zeyan: By the way, you also saw all the corners of the room. The beautiful day is to know my past.

I smirked and hid back, Li Zeyan reached out and held my waist.

Li Zeyan: Don't remember this?

MC: I do! You have a lot of books, won a lot of awards, and keep a diary of your work.

Li Zeyan: Anything else?

MC: And also...

I deliberately looked around and my eyes slipped from his face to other places.

Li Zeyan made a move at the back of my waist, and I straightened up immediately and ran into his dissatisfied gaze.

Li Zeyan: Answer the questions.

MC: I, I can't remember!

Li Zeyan: Really? I can give you a hint.

Seeing Li Zeyan get closer and closer, the glass in my hand slipped, and I hurriedly raised my other hand against his chest.

MC: Wait a minute, the coffeeㅡ

Li Zeyan: Then don't move.

He put his arm around my hand holding the glass, I can neither put down the glass nor avoid him.

I raised my head in surprise, and my cheek immediately touched a warm breath.

Li Zeyan: There is a football in the corner of the room.

Li Zeyan: You seem to be particularly interested in it.

The soft lips rubbed the skin of my cheek, and I took a quick breath.

MC: Football? Isn't that what you liked to play when you were young?

Li Zeyan: Hm.

Li Zeyan: The football broke a fool's sand castle, and she cried her nose for a long time.

Li Zeyan: She couldn't coax it well, but when she's mentioned about food, she left the sand castle behind.

Li Zeyan: But it is excusable, because the dummy was only five years old at that time.

He didn't seem to want to say any more, he just looked at me quietly, and his fingers stroked the back of my hand unconsciously.

I don’t know if it’s because my side is wrapped in sunlight, or because I realize I’ve stepped into his trap

I actually feel that every skin that hasn't been touched by him is oozing thin sweat and evaporated into my brain.

I thought I caught a handle that would make him shy, but now I also put myself in it

I deliberately dragged the name that I didn’t want to say, I’m really embarrassed to say it at the moment.

I squeezed his shirt tightly, bite the bullet, and stretched it.

MC: .... and then?

Li Zeyan raised his eyebrows, but was not annoyed, else he took advantage from it and moved the ambiguous kiss to my lips.

Thick eyelashes fell on my cheeks, and all the details about that night burst in my mind in an instant.

Li Zeyan: Then, this is what happened next.

The sun set a bright outline around his body, but fell into the shadow of his forehead, rolling the familiar desires of his eyes.

He held my hand and pulled me towards him, my body shook, and I had to clamp his waist with my knees.

Li Zeyan: Need more hints?

Without waiting for my response, Li Zeyan once again rubbed my lips unhurriedly.

I made a vague protest. He raised his eyelids and glanced at me, but did not stop.

How does this make people answer!

I became angry and raised my head and took a bite to his lower lip. Li Zeyan finally stopped, with a slight smile in his eyes.

Li Zeyan: Learn to bite?

MC: you did this on purpose!

Li Zeyan: You know the answer is still hidden, didn't you also do it on purpose?

Li Zeyan: The best way to deal with an idiot is to give a tooth for a tooth.

MC: ....Li Zeyan, you bad at it!

Li Zeyan smiled lightly, and didn't seem to mind my completely unreasonable accusations.

I looked at his calm look and sighed in frustration.

MC: ... After all this, can't you just be shy?

Li Zeyan: Who do you think I am doing this for?

I was stunned for a moment and saw that he narrowed his smile and looked at me earnestly.

Li Zeyan: I said how you always do strange things these days.

Li Zeyan: Deliberately deceive others to drink, not pretending to be drunk, and have to wear other people's clothes.

Li Zeyan: What's plan do you have?

My brain was in a mess, and I simply said what I was thinking.

MC: Because you are always calm, I also want to try if I can make you shy once.

MC: Although I may often do stupid things, I don't want to be treated as a child by you.

MC: After all, I’m not that five-year-old idiot anymore. I want to see you blushing and thumping heart for me.

I took a look at Li Zeyan, then buried my head on his shoulder a little embarrassedly, and mumbled.

MC: And, you don’t know how cute you are when you are shy.

MC: No one else has seen it, only I will see that side of you.

Li Zeyan was silent for a moment, he sighed slightly.

Li Zeyan: Have you seen who would invest five hundred million for a child?

MC: ....

Li Zeyan: From the first time I saw you, I have never treated you as a child.

Li Zeyan: Calling you a dummy is also because the childish things you do are indeed not suitable for your age.

I lowered my head and hummed slightly.

This person really does not let go of any opportunity to complain about me...

Li Zeyan: Also, the same goes for you.

MC: Huh?

Li Zeyan: You are cute when you do these silly things.

Li Zeyan: However, you don't need to do these as well.

I was stunned to feel the temperature coming from my cheek, but the sound of my heartbeat clearly betrayed my surprise.

I couldn't help but raised the corners of my mouth and straightened up to say something.

MC: Li Zeyanㅡ

Li Zeyan: Wrong answer.

The person in front of me frowned slightly, and I swallowed my saliva carefully. It turned out that this matter hasn't passed yet...

MC: Have you called it so many times when you were a kid?

Li Zeyan: it's different.

Li Zeyan: I want you to answer now.

Li Zeyan: Finally, I give you a chance.

I took a deep breath and was about to speak when I suddenly felt cold in my thighs.

The iced coffee in my hand made the glass frost, and cold water drops on my lap.

I subconsciously wanted to lower my head and wipe, Li Zeyan quickly pinched my chin.

Li Zeyan: Don't be distracted.

MC: I just....

Li Zeyan: Answer me, which Li Zeyan did you miss just now?

Drops of water slip off the skin, leaving a slight itching along the way.

The voice of the person in front of him was low, with a hint of coaxing, like a light rain gradually dripping underneath his heart, and every drop of rain was tickling.

I opened my mouth, my trembling throat almost couldn't control my voice.

MC: Brother Zeyan... (Zéyán gēgē…)

The air seemed to be quiet for a second, then the coffee in my hand was quickly evacuated, colliding with the cup and plate behinds, and Li Zeyan pushed it away.

I almost stared at the person in front of me, but he suddenly avoided my gaze and spoke in a low voice.

Li Zeyan: Close your eyes.

MC: Why?

Li Zeyan: No reason.

He leaned over and kissed my eyes lightly, which forced me to close my eyes obediently.

A generous palm supported the back of my head, and then a very nostalgic kiss dispelled all my doubts.

Even if I can't see his expression at this moment, I can clearly feel his unspoken mood.

That piece of debris that had floated many years ago was finally firmly embedded in the last vacancy, full of joy called "consummation".

I tentatively reached out my hand to find his shoulder and caught his neck.

The overlapping arms are like a lead, burning the entanglement between the lips and teeth to more corners. The scorching breath keeps falling, scorching the warm and cool skin.

The warm palm steadily supported my body, and aroused an unbearable tremor at the touch.

I tried to hold back the warmth that I wanted to overflow between my teeth, and secretly opened my eyes to look at him.

The sun honestly illuminates his reddish face, and a pair of eyes that are always unpredictable are also shining with some simple satisfaction.

I couldn't help but stretched out my hand to stroke his cheek, his eyes met my gaze, unexpectedly showing a trace of helplessness.

Probably didn't expect that I would take the opportunity to take a peek, and Li Zeyan's ears became red.

MC: Haha.

Li Zeyan: What are you laughing at?

MC: It's nothing, I just think your shy look is really cute.

Li Zeyan: ...

Li Zeyan: Your wish came true, happy?

MC: Happy!

Deliberately ignoring Li Zeyan's slightly dissatisfied gaze, I squeezed his cheek lightly, and then actively pressed down the back of his head and pecked at his lips.

This person who has always loved a poker face from childhood is have a warm and soft touch.

My heart was filled with unspeakable tenderness, and I couldn't help but kiss him again.

The voice falling in the ear hides an unexpected tremor, I smiled and let go of him.

MC: Thank you for letting me know you more.

MC: Sure enough, no matter which side of Li Zeyan it is, you’re still my favorite.

Li Zeyan looked at me for a while, then suddenly smiled.

Li Zeyan: Are you telling the truth?

MC: You can tell it all.

Li Zeyan: Indeed.

Li Zeyan: Then let me listen to this truth.

The sun shining from the skylight hung his shadow on me, and slowly overlapped with my shadow in the afterglow.

His fingertips, his palm rubbed against my hot heart, as if he was trying to vain all my thoughts.

Time is stretched infinitely in the lingering breath

And what melted in time was his long and stitched response.

🍷 🍷 🍷 END 🍷 🍷 🍷

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

Notes from me:

No plan for translating other dates after this

 ─=≡Σ((( つ＞＜)つ

[novelconcepts]

Greetings Novel. I was wondering, would you ever consider writing a vampire and/or werewolf Damie version? There’s already such a strong emotional connection whenever those stories are told, and I think you would just enhance that because you have such a knack for relaying Dani and Jamie’s thoughts and feelings. Anyway, just an idea because I love those tales and you’re absolutely one of my favorite authors. 😊

It’s the quiet she likes best, she thinks. The quiet, the dark, the simplicity. No one asks anything of her anymore. No one makes demands. She belongs to no one at all these days, for the first time since she can remember.

Except the Lady. She’ll always belong to her. 

But there’s a give to these things as well as a take, and Dani Clayton sometimes thinks it’s worth it. Worth it, not to have to sit at dinner parties and elegant balls. Worth it, not to have to titter and engage in small talk. Worth it, not to have to wear the ring.

Worth it, to leave him behind. 

And if it’s all shadow, all lonely, all deep-rooted ache she can never seem to soothe, that’s fine enough. She belongs to no one. No one except the Lady, and the Lady asks so little of her. Only to carry the curse--the disease--the hunger. Only to feed the shade coiled around the remnants of her old self. Only to wake. To walk. To drink. 

It’s dramatic, she thinks, but a little theater never hurt anyone. She makes sure of that much. It’s sustainable, so long as she keeps walking, walking, walking in the quiet. The dark. The simplicity.

It’s sustainable, until she reaches the village.

***

The pub is nearly empty. Too late, or too cold, or too poor an economic situation for carousing to be the game--Dani doesn’t much care which is the real reason. She likes the emptiness of the tables, chairs pushed patiently into place, every surface as clean as it is old. She likes the warm lighting, the oak bar, the smooth wooden floorboards under her boots. 

The mirror, she does not care for, turning her head swiftly away so as not to see the void where a young woman ought to stand. This part, she has never grown used to. This part, even after carrying the Lady--the Lady’s curse, more like, to hunger and need and wallow in lonely anger--for decades. She barely remembers, now, what that woman looks like. Blonde hair. Pale skin. Paler now than it had been in life, but only by so much--her mother had held such strong opinions as to what women should do with their time, and lounging in the sun had never been part of the pageant. Polite society, Danielle, has no use for a lady like that. 

Like what? she’d always wondered, never quite daring to ask. Adventurous? Athletic? Interesting?

No matter. The past is long, long dead--deader even than she could imagine back then, dreaming of being someone else. Someone free. All of them are gone now: her mother, with her antiquated ideas; her mother’s friends, who peered down their noses at Dani and smiled without heart; even Edmund. Even him. 

Long dead, now. Old age, or unrepentant illness, or freak accident--she doesn’t know. She wasn't there. 

The woman she was is dead, too, Danielle Clayton buried in a grave she’d only hauled herself back out of the next night. The Lady had whispered in her ear, granted unexpected strength, unexpected fury. Danielle went in. Dani came back out again. No one ever needs to remember. 

And no one ever has. She’s been walking for--fifty years, now? More, maybe. The date on the newspaper crumpled on one table reads June 24, 1987. More than fifty years gone in a blink, and Dani is still here. Washed clean, maybe, of all the bits that had once made up a patient, kind, hopeful young teacher. But here all the same. 

She settles at the table, drawing a book from her bag. The night is still young, the hunger not yet pricking at her patience. It’s good to start smooth, start simple, to remind the Lady that the curse might have its needs, but it is Dani who is still in control. Dani, who, despite making a decision unwary of its consequences so long ago, has managed to hang on this long.

Still here. Still walking. Still--

“Get you something?”

Her head snaps up, her body primed to run. An old instinct. As if anyone could touch her without consent now.

The woman watching her looks curious, but only faintly so, as if by old habit. Her hair is tied off her face with a bandana, her sleeves cuffed at the elbows. There is a loveliness about her Dani has always fostered a weakness for--a loveliness that matches, in a less primal way, that of the Lady who had come to her in that dream so long ago. Walk with me. Walk with me, and you’ll never be alone again. 

She shakes her head, smiles. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Right,” says the woman slowly. “Only, this isn’t a library. Don’t order something, Tom’ll have me throw you out.”

She speaks like she doesn’t much care one way or another, but Dani has been around long enough to read between the lines of a person. The words are callous, but the inflection is specific--the emphasis placed not on throw you out as a threat, but Tom’ll have me. An apology before an offense. The woman glances toward the window, aware of the wind battering the glass, her expression calmly letting Dani know I’d rather not have to. 

“I’ll have whatever’s your favorite,” Dani says. Eyebrows raise, the woman’s head tilting. 

“Mine?”

“Sure.” Dani smiles, reaches across, touches the woman’s hand lightly where it rests on the table. It’s easier, influencing human minds through touch. She doesn’t like doing it at all, if she can help it--there’s a film over the idea, a nasty oily sense of wrong--but sometimes it can’t be helped. People who look at her the way this woman is looking tend to become a problem.

People who smile at her the way this woman is beginning to smile, lips quirking up at the corners like she doesn’t quite mean to, tend to become a danger to themselves and others. 

Mostly themselves.

The woman disappears briefly behind the bar; Dani, aware of the mirror, doesn’t watch her go. Her eyes remain on her book, her fingers tracing mindless sigils into the table until a glass is set gently down before her. A thin amber ale of some kind--Dani feels no curiosity, no interest at all. She smiles. 

“Thank you.”

“Sure,” the woman says. Hesitates, as though wanting to say more. Shakes her head. The fog--the sense of forget Dani brings in her wake--is already sinking its claws into this woman, already wiping Dani away. Good. It’s best when they don’t see her, don’t take an interest, don’t remember when she’s gone.

Especially women who smile like this one. 

She leaves the drink untouched, putting away two chapters in easy silence. Money, she drops on the table. No one looks up as she strides back out into the dark. 

Tonight’s meal will be found elsewhere.

***

The story should end here, she knows--a person like Dani is only still here because she’s long-since learned the art of keep moving. The Lady commands it. The Lady is impatient to walk. 

The hunger, pushing in along her ribs, pulsing under her wrists, is impatient for more. 

She ought to leave the little village be. There’s not much here to begin with, and it’s dangerous to feed in places where one single thread can be followed to each house in turn. Dani’s careful not to hurt where she doesn’t have to, not to kill ever--a little time, a little tender care, is all it takes to prevent it. She hasn’t left a body behind in almost thirty years. There’s really no excuse for making a kill where one could simply leave a vacant few minutes of memory, she thinks. 

Not that humans recognize the kindness for what it is. Not that she can blame them for their fear. She was afraid once, too--waiting, always, for the Lady to become Beast, for her to rise up over Dani’s good sense and turn her into something hateful. Dying, for Dani, hadn’t been the hard part. The idea of becoming something she isn’t...

But it’s been years and years, and she is still here. Still Dani. Lonely, and quiet, and living the simplest life she can manage, given the circumstances.

And back at this same pub again.

Shouldn’t, she thinks--knows, though she’s pushing the door open and striding back to that same table again. Out comes the book. Her eyes remain resolutely clear of the bar, of the mirror, of any patrons who might give her trouble. 

“Back again?”

The woman, this time in a t-shirt, her curls loose around her face. Same woman. Same smile. Same problem. 

Dani really knows better. 

“Noticed you didn’t touch the ale,” the woman points out, leaning her hip against the table. There’s a quiet confidence to the way she holds herself, a constrained line of motion that says she’s in no hurry. Dani watches her, smiling a little, and thinks, Shouldn’t be here. 

“No, I,” she begins to reply. Her smile fades to a frown. “Wait. Noticed.”

“Yeah,” the woman says. “And you overpaid. Drinks much pricier in America, then?”

Dani wouldn’t know. Dani hasn’t set foot in America since the sixties. 

“I guess,” she says, still puzzled. This woman shouldn’t be speaking of last night as though it was--well. Only last night. This woman shouldn’t remember Dani at all. The Lady’s influence generally makes certain of that. 

All these years, it’s never failed her. 

That is the idea.

“Something darker tonight, maybe?” the woman goes on, watching Dani with shrewd eyes. “A stout?”

“Okay,” Dani agrees, knowing full well she won’t touch it when the drink comes, and finding herself quite unable to say no. Quite unable to do what she should, which is to slip out before the woman can return to this table and smile at her again.

Try harder, she tells herself, when the glass is standing proudly beside her book, laid face-down on the table. Try harder to do it. Because, the thing is, if this woman remembers her--if this woman keeps remembering her--she’s bound to find herself on the other side of a beheading. A torch. A particularly sharp slat of wood. 

Her hand brushes the woman’s again, her fingers tingling. The skin is soft, the nails short; when she turns the woman’s hand over in her own, she finds callouses on the pads of her fingers. 

“Bold,” the woman says, amused--but there’s a flare of something more in her eyes, matching her smile too well. Dani swallows. Presses forward with her own mind, gently caressing the woman’s intentions. Forget me, she wills. I was never here. 

“Enjoy,” the woman says, the clear focus in her eyes drifting to hazy confusion. 

Dani watches her go, her chest tight with an unfamiliar sensation--something like hunger, and yet...

No one, she thinks, has ever remembered her when she’d wanted them to forget. No one since the Lady’s curse. Even Edmund, who had dreamed of a big wedding, a big house, a big family since they were children, had forgotten her, in the end. Easily. She’d willed it, and walked away, and he had forgotten she’d ever climbed out of that grave. 

This woman, whose name is not Dani’s to know, whose life is not Dani’s to touch, remembered. 

Even as she’s leaving, even as she’s slipping out into the dark to find someone to dull the Lady’s hunger, Dani knows she’ll be back again. A terrible idea. A terrible test of the universe’s machinations. And yet.

She can’t erase the curiosity, bent behind a shop with a young woman’s wrist pulsing warm against her lips. She can’t erase the way the woman had smiled at her with knowing amusement, as her teeth sharpen and the Lady takes what she needs. She can’t forget, as copper runs sweet across her tongue, and the girl sitting on the pavement heaves a languid sigh beneath her. 

It’s an awful idea. Truly, the worst. 

She has to know.

***

“Starting to think you don’t actually drink.”

The woman actually sits this time, sprawling into the chair across from Dani as though belonging there all along. Dani bites down on a smile.

“Why else would I come to a place like this?”

“The company?” the woman suggests, and though her tone is idle, her smile scorches. Dani shakes her head, laughing. 

She can’t remember the last time she laughed. 

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she confides. The woman raises her eyebrows. 

“Where are you supposed to be?”

Alone, Dani thinks. Forgotten, Dani thinks. That was the deal, Dani thinks, the price of a young woman’s freedom. Wake. Walk. Feed. There has never needed to be anything else. 

“Not here,” she settles on saying--a truth without teeth. The woman nods slowly, leaning across the table, her hand sliding over pocked wood to brush Dani’s wrist. 

“Doesn’t seem to be stopping you. Twice is an accident. Three is a habit.”

She isn’t wrong. Two people in this village bear Dani’s mark now, the inner slope of their wrists stained with new scars they won’t be able to explain. She’ll have to drink from a third tonight, and the odds of getting out unscathed--even with the fog clearing her from their minds the minute she walks away--shrink yet again. This isn’t a good idea. 

But this woman, impossibly, illogically, remembers her. Forgot, maybe, briefly--in the time it took Dani to pay and leave--and then the memory just...sprang back into place. Dani has made mistakes with women before, has let their smiles grace her heart in ways she was never meant to allow, but it’s never resulted in this. 

“I’m Jamie,” the woman says, and Dani almost recoils--almost says, Don’t tell me that, don’t put that on me, you’re not supposed to remember--but I won’t be able to forget. 

“Dani,” she says instead, and feels the Lady pulse deep in the place she’s always imagined her soul to rest. The Lady, a curse--a gift--a structure around which she’s built her second chance at life. The Lady, who looks upon Jamie now and sends a powerful swell of hunger up through Dani’s bones. 

Take her. Take her. She wants it, look at her. 

Jamie does, Dani senses, want something. Something that has no need for Dani’s influence, no requirement for Dani pulling the strings. Jamie wants something from her--something honest, something human--and the very idea of it spikes fresh terror like she hasn’t felt in decades.

“This is a bad idea,” she says in a low voice. “It’s dangerous.”

Jamie, fingers tracing Dani’s palm, searching out her lifeline, shrugs. “Always is. Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”

***

There’s a place upstairs, a little flat. Jamie leads the way as though she’s done this a hundred times, taking Dani’s hand with an almost nonchalant gesture. 

“If you let me in,” Dani says, “this gets so much more complicated.”

“I’ll take the chance,” Jamie says. She should be laughing as she says it, a flirtatious bit of banter designed to delight, but she isn’t. She’s looking at Dani, her free hand turning the key, like she already understands. 

“I’m not,” Dani says. Stops. Sighs. “I’m not what you’re--what you think I--”

“Start here,” Jamie says, and pushes open the door. An invitation without words, one Dani can’t resist leaning into. She hasn’t let herself accept an invitation like this in so long. 

Take her, the Lady breathes. Take her, bring her to me. Dani squeezes her hands into fists, the familiar rage of hunger grinding against this new, too-human variant. Jamie is closing the door, kicking off her shoes, smiling. 

The smile is what really breaks her. The smile, which is a little teasing, a little tempting, but mostly just real. 

She’s kissing Jamie before she can stop herself, and even as she’s doing it, there is something too warm about it. Something too good about the way Jamie catches her, hands digging into Dani’s hair, lips parting when Dani brushes against her with the tip of her tongue. For all the skin she’s tasted, all the times she’s kissed and licked and bitten, this is different. This is--

This has no path. No road to follow to the end. No lie baked into the heart of it. Every woman she’s ever led into the dark, every time she’s ever drank deep and pulled back before the Lady can win back control, seems to fall away in comparison to how desperately she’s kissing Jamie. This person she barely knows. This woman who slips a hand around her hip like an anchor. This woman whose kiss is confident, who is smiling into her, who leans back breathlessly and says, “You’re sure about this?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Dani breathes, kissing her again. Jamie makes a soft groaning sound, tilting her head away. 

“Why not?”

“Because,” Dani says, unable to stop herself from kissing around every word, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Shouldn’t, or don’t want to be?” Jamie is backing her against the wall, and Dani can hear her heartbeat, can’t seem to erase the dizzy scent of life pouring off of her in waves. Blood, yes, thrumming beneath her skin, but also breath, and desire, and something giddy and nameless that can only be joy. 

Such a human thing, joy. Why, then, does Dani feel it pressing in on her, too?

“Hey.” Jamie has stopped kissing her, is simply holding her face gently between her hands. Her thumbs have found Dani’s cheekbones, are pressing so lightly, Dani closes her eyes to keep from crumbling. 

“Hey.”

“If you really don’t feel good about this, we don’t have to. We can, I dunno. Talk. Or not. Whatever you want.”

Dani breathes slowly, all the little measures of human in a body that is not. She likes breathing, she’s found. Likes willing her heart to beat. Likes feeling warm, likes feeling as though any sunrise might be welcome, someday. Someday, when all of this fades. 

Like it ever can. Like the Lady would ever allow it. That wasn’t the deal.

“There are things,” she says hollowly, “you don’t know.”

“All the things,” Jamie agrees comfortably. “Everything except your name and what you don’t like to drink.”

Despite herself, Dani laughs again. She leans forward until her forehead presses Jamie’s, until Jamie’s breath coasting lightly across her lips is the only thing she can feel. 

The only thing outside of the beating, raging, desperate hunger.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” she says. “I--sometimes even I think I’m crazy.” And, really, might she be? Might this all be some delusion, some shattering of sense that has led her to believe there will be no woman waiting for her in the mirror? Or, worse, a delusion leading her to believe she is here--that she is still Dani, despite it all?

“Tell me anyway,” Jamie says, and Dani kisses her again. Kisses the edges of her lips, the curve of her jaw, the length of her neck. Kisses the place where the pulse beats like fists against a casket lid, her lips parting, her tongue flat against the salt of Jamie’s skin. She hears Jamie draw a sharp breath, one hand tight in her hair, hears Jamie say, “Yes” in a tone Dani has to fight to deny.

She doesn’t mean it. She can’t mean it. She doesn’t know. 

And Dani, though the Lady roars with that unrelenting need, can’t take. Not like this. Not here. This woman remembers her. This woman will remember tomorrow, even if Dani slips out of her bed, even if Dani never shows her face again. She’ll remember. It will, somehow, unfairly, haunt the rest of her life. 

“It’s a long story,” she says, face still buried in Jamie’s neck. Her hips are twitching against Jamie’s thigh, her hands sliding under Jamie’s shirt. “A long, crazy story.”

“I have time,” Jamie says. Dani lifts her head. Smiles. 

It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s meant to be quiet. Dark. Simple.

Lonely. 

That was the deal.

“The teacher,” she says quietly, closing her eyes as she scrounges for the beginning for the first time in over fifty years, “was, by choice, a solitary young woman...”

Jamie listens.

[minaslittleone]

Fission & Fusion (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story "And I failed to climb the mountain".

Word count: ~2700

The hours after that were fuzzy. After storming out of her parents house with little more than the bare essentials and no intention of returning Wilhemina didn't really have much of a plan. She had never fantasized about running away as a child, she hadn't even been brave enough to rebel vicariously and yet here she was, with no plan and no where to go. And terrified.

But Wilhemina was nothing if not practical so she sequestered all of those doubts and anxieties down into the deepest corners of her brain to be dealt with later, she told herself. Really to be dealt with never.

Practically speaking, money was her first concern. She knew that her mother's threat to cut her off had not been idle, but she also hoped that her mother would continue to underestimate her long enough that she would be able to clear the remaining funds out of her account before her mother froze it. Her pride raged against the idea of taking the idea of taking the money religiously placed into her "allowance" once a month by her father, hating how spoiled that made her sound and wanting to be free of any lingering ties to her parents. She would have gladly traded every last dime for any other monthly ritual with her father, for anything with him really. But she was a casualty of her parents' failing marriage, the only thing that they hated more than each other was the idea of acknowledging that their marriage had long since fallen apart. Her father avoided the house like the plague, and her by extension, throwing himself deeper and deeper into his professional life to mask the failure of his personal one. And so their relationship had become almost completely transactional, her father attempting to atone for his absence by providing her with everything she could ever dream of, save for the one thing she truly wanted - his affection. But as much as she hated the money and everything it represented, she really wasn't left with much of a choice.

That was how she found herself standing in front of a bank teller at 1:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, lying through her teeth and praying that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her hands. Exactly how she had got there she wasn't sure - a bus? Surely she hadn't walked this far - she was completely focused on getting what money she could and getting out.

The process was certainly made easier by the fact that she had been coming to this branch since her father had opened the account on her sixteenth birthday. And maybe for once in her life her twisted frame would be an asset - it was difficult to forget a girl her age with flaming red hair and a cane.

So she lied. She told the teller that she was using the money to put towards a car but that her parents were unfortunately too busy to accompany her. That part wasn't even really a lie, her parents were always too busy. Either way the teller didn't seem to see anything unusual about depositing the entire $5000 balance into Wilhemina's hand, before politely wishing her a pleasant day.

She had thought she would feel safer with the money in hand, feel like she had more control over the situation. In fact all it did was make her realise how vulnerable she was. How she would never be able to defend herself if someone decided they wanted to take it from her. Maybe her mother had been right, maybe she really was too broken and useless to survive on her own.

She could feel her heart racing. She had to find somewhere to stay. Find somewhere that she could get off the street. Maybe then she would feel safer. Maybe.

Except she didn't know how long she would need to make that $5000 last. She had no job and had effectively forfeited her degree the minute she walked out her parents' front door. Any future prospects she had were tied to their connections anyway. Oh god, what was she going to do? She had no experience and no qualifications, and any jobs that would have been open to her without those were made impossible by her twisted spine. She wouldn't have been able to stand for long enough to finish a shift as a waitress, let alone carry much whilst also maneuvering her cane.

So she would have to make the money last. At least until she managed to come up with a better plan. Which is how she found herself unpacking her meagre possessions into a battered shell of a room in a run down hotel that offered rooms by the hour. As she eased herself down onto the bed, finally allowing her back some respite after hours on her feet, she reasoned that this was the best choice for now. And she would think of something, this was only temporary.

But it hurt. The adrenaline from her triumphant exit earlier that morning was long gone and now she was left with the painful reality of what life on her own would look like. At the moment it consisted of a sea of mismatched floral patterned fabrics, a green melamine kitchenette and far too many questionable stains.

She felt like she was suffocating, that the battered walls with their pealing wallpaper were steadily encroaching on her, squeezing the last ounces of calm and confidence out of her by force. She had to get out, had to keep moving, had to keep busy lest the reality of her situation catch up to her and drown her in its melancholy.

She burst from the room, shaking fingers struggling clumsily against the lock. She had to get away, to be anywhere but here. Away from the stale smelling room with the pealing wallpaper. Away from the lumpy bed swathed in garish floral covers of questionable cleanliness. Away from the suffocating reminder of how alone she was.

It shouldn't have surprised her that she would end up back in the college library, it's where she spent most of her time any way, finding any excuse she could not to go home. It was quiet and it was safe. Between the warm, dim lighting and the earthy smell of the old wooden shelves and the books themselves Wilhemina finally began to calm. She could feel the tension to funnel out of her trembling fingers, feel heart finally stop racing and draw her first real breath in hours.

She didn't know how long she sat there, not really seeing or hearing the world around her, just being, adjusting. Letting her body and mind begin to come to terms with her situation. Start to reset her parameters and realise that she wasn't going home tonight, that there wasn't a home to go anymore. Perhaps there never had been, not in the ways that mattered.

She was drawn from her haze by the gentle but insistent whispering of her name that indicated that this wasn't the first time the owner had tried to rouse her. As her vision cleared she was met with the kind, if not slightly concerned countenance of her adviser, Professor Thompson.

"Is everything alright, Wilhemina?" She could only nod dumbly in response. "I missed you in class this morning" the older woman added. "I know you said had a specialist appointment and might be late, but I got worried when you never showed up. Did everything go ok?" Wilhemina couldn't find the words to answer, couldn't find a way to explain how her life had been pulled out from under her in the preceding few hours. Her mouth guppied in response, producing several sounds that could have been the start of ideas but nothing intelligible.

Professor Thompson's brow furrowed. Over the years that she had known Wilhemina Venable she had always been impressed by her tenacity. For all this young woman had endured, she had refused to let it define her. She was always the first present in class, sitting front and centre, attention never wavering, even on the days Professor Thompson could see the tell tale signs of pain breaking through her indifferent facade. The tension in her brow and jaw, the twitch of her lips and narrowing of her eyes at each spasm, the shifting in her seat in a desperate effort to find some level of comfort. There was a hardness, a determination in the eyes of that girl which said she refused to give up which was notably absent now, replaced by a glazed, foggy expression that made Professor Thompson's heart hurt.

"Wilhemina," she tried again, "would it be easier if we discussed this in my office?" The redhead's eyes rolled up to meet hers almost drunkenly, obviously still not entirely processing the world around her. She managed a small nod, vacant eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance. "Here, let me take your bag" she offered, hands floating just beyond Wilhemina's shoulders as the redhead hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she found some semblance of equilibrium.

Professor Thompson couldn't help but bring a hand to gently cup Wilhemina's upper arm, causing the younger woman to finally meet her gaze. Oh and didn't it just break her heart, the pleading terrified desperation she found in those deep brown eyes. "Come on, dear" she coaxed, "this way."

Wilhemina felt herself start to come back into her own body as she sat in Professor Thompson's office, old worn leather chair beneath her and warm cup of sweetened tea pressed into her trembling hands.

Professor Thompson noticed the change as well. "Easy, dear" she cautioned, as Wilhemina's shaking hands tried to raise the warm mug to her lips. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes" Wilhemina managed to rasp.

Professor Thompson reached out her hand to rest on Wilhemina's knee, rubbing slow comforting circles. "Do you think you can me what happened? Was it something at your appointment? Do you need another surgery?"

"No" Wilhemina whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the older woman, who's warm gaze encouraged her to continue. "The surgeon doesn't want to do anything, doesn't think it's necessary to do anything. My mother on the other hand is not satisfied and won't be until I look *normal*"

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you" the older woman tried.

"She wants me to stop being an embarrassment. She flat out told the surgeon she doesn't care about my pain, she only wants him to fix how hideous I look." It was happening again, Wilhemina realised, the years of repressed pain and frustration spewing out of her unbidden. "The surgeon stopped recommending procedures when I was eighteen because they weren't likely to help but my mother kept insisting because I looked so hideous she couldn't stand it. She put me through years of pain because I was so ugly and she was so ashamed of me." Her voiced cracked as the tears she had tried so hard contain broke free down her cheeks.

"She was trying to do it again" Wilhemina choked. "She was trying to convince him to operate again and I finally told her no."

"And how did she take that?" Professor Thompson asked, almost fearing the answer. Wilhemina let out a self-depricating laugh through her tears, rolling her eyes. "Wilhemina," she added urgently, gently squeezing her knee to get her attention, "she didn't hurt you, did she?"

Wilhemina stopped at that. "Not physically, no." A beat of understanding passed between the two women before Wilhemina continued. "She threw me out, cut me off, told me I was completely on my own unless I agree to have the surgery. Told me I can kiss my degree goodbye." The older woman gasped. "I told her she could have it, I was done with her controlling my life."

Professor Thompson reached out to take Wilhemina's hands, squeezing them in her own. "That was so incredibly brave." Wilhemina let out a wry chuckle "You don't think I'm completely mad?" Another warm squeeze of her hands. "Absolutely not. I think you are so strong."

Wilhemina raised her eyes again to meet those of her professor, searching them for the signs of a lie. Finding none she felt her chin begin to tremble as she fought against the tears.

She lost. The tears came bubbling out of her against her will. Tears for the years of pain she had endured, both physical and emotional, at her mother's hands. Tears for the little girl who spent years in pain trying to convince her parents that it wasn't all in her head. For her childhood that had been stolen from her. For the little girl alone in a hospital, who's parents were far too busy to visit, who was left to rely on nurses for comfort and support. For the twenty four year old woman who had just lost everything.

She curled in on herself as much as her twisted spine would allow, rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, trying in vain to offer herself some comfort. She felt the chair next to her dip and then she was being cradled in her advisors arms - how embarassing. But try as she might she couldn't quiet the hysterical sobs.

Eventually pulled herself out of the older womans arms, trying to regain some level of dignity. Professor Thompson gave her hands one last squeeze as she let her go.

"We will find a solution to all of this" she assured "but for now all of that can wait. You need to eat and you need to sleep. You must be exhausted" Wilhemina nodded, still frantically pawing at her tear-stained cheeks. There was no point hiding anymore, not after her earlier display.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Professor Thompson asked. "You're welcome to my spare room if not"

"No it's fine" Wilhemina replied, glad to avoid imposing on her professor further. "I have a hotel room."

"Ok I'll drive you" Wilhemina tried valiantly to rebuff Professor Thompson's kindness, but the older woman would not be dissuaded. And once Wilhemina realised how dark it had gotten she was secretly grateful.

As the car came to a stop in front what currently passed for Wilhemina's lodgings, Professor Thompson took her hand once more. "After work tomorrow" she pressed "I am picking you up and you are having dinner with me. It will give us a chance to come up with a plan for what happens next. I refuse to see someone as smart and driven as you are, Wilhemina, be sabotaged by negligent parenting. We will figure this out."

Wilhemina couldn't even bring herself to try and rebuff such kindness, for how her heart ached for it. Instead all she could manage was a watery "okay" and tremulous smile. As she walked back to her room she felt lighter than she had all day, tension finally beginning to drain from her body like water trickling down her arms and plummeting from her fingertips.

Exhaustion quickly rose to fill vacancy making her limbs heavy and fingers clumsy. Almost there, she told herself as she struggled with foreign keychain, not much longer. Just inside the door and then you can rest. But try as she might her exhausted mind could not make sense of the lock nor could it co-ordinate her trembling fingers well enough to keep hold of the keys which fell limply to the concrete just beyond her door.

It was as if the universe was laughing at her, she thought, as she gingerly squatted down, bending her legs to compensate for her immobilised spine. After all the humiliation she had endured today she could not be allowed to rest without at least one more reminder of her inadequacy. So fucking useless, the voice in ear chided, so fucking stupid. Hurry up and pick up the god damn keys and open the door like a normal, functional human being. Can you manage that much at least?

And maybe she could have managed it had the hand she extended to reach for her keys not been firmly crushed into the concrete and pulled away from her by a steal-capped boot, upsetting her precarious equilibrium and sending her sprawling face first into the concrete.

"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

A/N: Ok, so number one - I'm sorry (ducks). I promise I won't hurt her too much. This part wasn't even in my original plan but then the angsty little plot demons took over and here we are. Number two - for those of you who are interested I wrote Professor Thompson with Prof. Stromwell (Holland's character from legally blonde) in mind because I think she is exactly the type of tough but caring person that baby Mina would be drawn to. But also because I'm dying to see Sarah and Holland work on a project together, so this was my own vicarious little head cannon.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Violent Delights: One

Violent Delights

(In collaboration with @jooniescupcakes​)

Genre: Horror, Suspense, & Psychological Thriller

Pairings: Gang!Jimin x reader ; BTS x Reader

Sypnosis:“These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.”

Release Date: Sept 29, 2020 @ 8 p.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 9.2k

Author's Note: It's finally here! Almost a year in the works, but Violent Delights The Series is finally kicking off. Thank you for all the love, support, as well as critiques the one-shot received. I hope this re-telling can both capture and surpass the twisted charm of the original. I would like to thank Min (@jooniescupcakes) for helping me outline and plot the story and for contributing. I greatly appreciate it. This story will be darker, gore-y, and a lot more twisted than the original. So strap in & happy early Halloween! Trigger Warning: This story contains subject matter not appropriate for all ages. This story contains mental illness, emotional, physical, and mental abuse; as well as abuse of power, manipulation, and toxic relationships. All of which play a big part in this story. It is never my intention to sensationalize or spread misinformation about mental disorders, please take the "medicine" used in this story with a grain of salt. Links to helplines can be found in the navigation of my blog. Lastly, this is a work of fiction and does not portray the character of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

The door slammed shut harshly as Hanbin rushed to bolt it locked, by his side, he tugged an inconsolable YN through the small house. There was very little time until she arrived. He maneuvered his way through the piles of old dirty clothes, the children had long become accustomed to the stench coming from the kitchen, the dust, and grime that covered their home. It’s why no one came over. Not that anyone was allowed over. In the center of the room framed on the wall shined a family portrait mockingly. Hanbin was short for his age, just eight years old, but it allowed him to navigate through small openings and hide in tight spaces. It was a survival tactic.

“Shh, YN. You need to calm down. She’ll be here soon.”

“i-I wuh-wanted to help, Binnie. She was hurt -”

Hanbin pulled on his sister a little too harshly trying to draw her attention, it caused her lower lip to quiver as she tried to hold the tears back. That wouldn’t do she didn’t like it when they cried. “Helping people only gets you into trouble.” Outside, the slamming of a car door could be heard. Quickly Hanbin located the small broom closet and helped YN inside. The jiggling of the doorknob was barely above a whisper, but it rang as loud as the fire alarm in the children’s heads. YN began to hyperventilate knowing what was coming even if she didn’t truly understand why. 

“It’s okay,” Hanbin rubs her cheek affectionately. “Just stay inside, be quiet, and don’t try to help.” Just like that he closed the door and locked it. He silently hoped YN hadn’t skipped lunch that day. YN cowered under the old headboards, her only company the dusty cleaning products and cobwebs, the second the screaming started she covered her ears and closed her eyes.

“Miss YN?” The nurse’s bright pink scrubs served as a strong contrast to the muted tones of the rest of the building. YN cast a glance around she was likely the youngest person there, but everyone around her shared a similar air of ennui that YN had long grown to associate with doctor’s offices. Slowly she stood up following the nurse as she guided her through what appeared to be an endless labyrinth of doors. After stopping abruptly the nurse turns around and smiles though it’s evidently rehearsed. “Don’t be nervous, Dr. Kang is one of the best doctors here.” How many times hadn’t she heard that before? YN offers the nurse a smile making sure it is wide enough to crinkle the corners of her eyes. That seems to suffice the woman enough for her to finally knock on the door.

Dr. Kang Daniel was certainly young for his profession, but that provided some relief for YN. It would be nice not to spend almost an hour with someone that looked to have been around when Freud was. “Please take a seat.” He gestures over to a chair in front of the desk and YN notices there is little decoration around the room. It’s also missing a clock, but thankfully she sees Kang is wearing one. YN notes the time: 5:36 pm. Forty-three more minutes to go. 

“I apologize that we’re going to have to go through all of this, but its procedure.” He lightly shakes the file in his hand. Most doctors operated digitally now, so that stood out.

“It’s fine.”

“Let’s get to it then. Why are you here YN?”

They went over the usual things and YN was quickly growing a bit bored, her eyes danced around the room as she did find it very strange that it seemed so vacant for a personal office. “Bored?” Her eyes snapped back to his, Kang wearing an unreadable expression. “I apologize for the lack of decor. I recently moved offices, so this will be my last day here.” YN frowned, “I thought I was to be your new patient.” Kang nods, “Yes, but our sessions will be held in my consultation. It’s closer to downtown so you might save yourself the trip.” How does he know I live closer to downtown? Perhaps seeing the further furrowing of her brow Kang speaks once more. “Unless you live far from downtown?” YN shakes her head feeling the tension leave her body just a bit.

Slowly he closes the file and leans forward, resting on his elbows. “I know this isn’t the most comfortable environment. I also know how jarring transfers can be and that they can halt any sort of process…” YN zones out of the conversation having heard it a thousand times since she was eleven years old. The rambling tends to have the same conclusion every single time.

‘I want us to be friends.’

“I want us to be friends or something similar. I know there are some barriers and guidelines in our relationship, but don’t think they aren’t malleable. I’m here if you need me.” 

YN mulls over what might serve as an appropriate response, aware that taking too long might ruin the pseudo-friendly atmosphere and she doesn’t want to have any more problems with psychiatrists. “Thank you, Dr. Kang. I’m sorry I’m just a bit nervous.” The sheepish smile that follows afterward is enough to convince Kang. Perhaps he isn’t a bad man but YN has encountered his type far too often: those striving to make a difference. Always trying to make things better. Always trying to help. 

“No one will help us, YN. No one cares about us.”

“So let’s move onto your family YN -”

“Actually I wanted to ask you about my medication.” Kang seemed surprised at her interruption but encouraged her to continue. “Dr. Lee only gave me enough medication to last the transfer, so I’m almost out.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’ll be taking you off the medication for a short time anyway.” What? Kang’s attention was now on his computer, not bothering to look at YN in the eye. “I need to run some tests and in order to do that your system has to be clean.” 

YN hadn’t been off her medication for a long time. Sure the dosage varied depending on the treatment, but going completely off was unheard of. Especially so soon. “Don’t worry,” Kang smiled. “There shouldn’t be any potential side effects and if there is I’ll give you my private number. In case of emergencies.” What was supposed to be a soothing smile only unnerved YN even more. YN nodded once more though she felt her anxiety begin to swell up in her stomach. Her heart rate speeding up, but YN knew a panic attack wouldn’t do her any favors. It would make her look like an addict and they would lock her up for sure. It’s only a matter of time. Now that the issue had been cleared Kang cleared his throat, “Now what I was saying about your family -” 

YN stood up abruptly thankful the minute hand had finally landed one above the four. “It’s 6:19 our time is up.” She gestures towards his wristwatch and an annoyed look masks his face before it went just as quickly as it came. “It appears so.” His hand covers the watch in a motion that could hardly be described as casual. Kang waves her off, “It was a pleasure meeting you, YN. I’ll schedule the tests for Friday and I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“In other news….updates...gang violence…”

YN wandered through the aisles looking for inspiration or something to satisfy her cravings. In her hand lay open her phone just so she wouldn’t have to keep making eye contact with the older woman behind the cash register. The employee peered at her as if YN was one of the dangerous criminals the news anchors droned on about.  YN keeps looking over the message her social worker sent her: you have to be there at least a month before I could put in a transfer request. When YN bent down to read the label, she felt the woman lean over the counter. YN rolled her eyes and picked up the packaged bulgogi before grabbing a sports drink and a small fruit salad.

Once she saw YN was an actual paying customer, not a shoplifter, the woman’s expression changed. Her smile far too gleeful for this time of night. “Will that be all, dear?” Her voice too high to be sincere. Nonetheless, YN nods and forces a polite smile on her face. Even wishes the woman a safe night for extra measure. Before YN could walk out of the store, the woman responds with her own form of goodnight. “I would be careful walking home tonight. There’s been a lot of crime recently.”

 It is a bit cruel that the second YN exits the store and turns a corner someone begins to follow her. She becomes aware of it instantly, her senses having been trained from a young age to pick up on the small imperceptible changes. Instinct was not to be ignored. The wind became thicker and the streets a little too quiet. YN wouldn’t look up, but if she did, surely there would be storm clouds looming. Don’t acknowledge him. Just keep walking. People like that enjoyed prey. The game. No one wanted to face off against a predator being one. Unless this was a different kind of predator then YN really ought to call the police. For once she was thankful for the pocketknife stored in the inner pocket of her jacket but disappointed that her pepper spray remained stashed in her bag.

Her groceries hung heavy on her arm, but YN was too far from home to attempt to sprint. So she would have to wait it out, YN could take a few punches. Surely whoever it was would become tired after following her for too long. By the time YN had walked ten blocks, she realized that was not the case. The person was still behind her, though there wasn’t much that she could tell much about the person. They were likely taller and considering their persistence they were a threat.

YN could pick up distantly on the booming bass that likely came from one of the many clubs scattered downtown. It meant she was near her house, that she could likely get home. The houses looked familiar she was probably not too far from home. Hope began to swell in her chest until another idea dawned on her. That’s exactly what they want. If the person had followed her this far they wanted to see where she lived. Abruptly YN turned left towards the direction of the main street, she was likely in a back alley of some sort but the bass only got louder so that helped propel her forward.

Towards the center of the alley, YN saw three figures huddled over on the ground. She was too far off to hear what they were saying, but based on their movements it seemed mocking in nature. YN wasn’t able to decipher what was occurring until it was far too late. A man is wriggling on the ground while bleeding profusely from the side of his head while two men stand above him. Blood is spattered on both walls and their clothes are covered in it. There no longer was a presence behind her the real danger now lay in front. In the form of a tall raven-haired man and a slightly shorter blonde - the latter of which YN made eye contact with.

YN bolts down the alleyway in the opposite direction aware that the blonde is hot on her tails. As she rounds a corner she feels him catching up to her right on her before he abruptly slows down. He doesn’t want the chase to end.

56...57...58…

YN counts the streets aware she’s nearing her apartment but isn’t about to lead him straight to her doorstep. In her peripheral, she sees one of the neighboring buildings which contains a doorman stationed there twenty-four hours. YN uses the last bit of her strength to push through the glass doors tumbling at the steps, but the doorman is there to catch her. “Miss, is everything alright?” YN turns around to catch a glimpse, but there’s no one behind her. Though she does note something disappointing: her groceries are gone.

When YN unlocked her apartment door she felt this immediate wave of tranquility hit her. It had taken a while to convince the doorman not to contact the police, she didn't want to be in bigger trouble, but the man had finally agreed after stating he would walk her back home. Once in the lobby, she took the stairs just to be safe. Quickly, she turned around securing all three locks, and headed straight for the bathroom. YN never understood the sentiment behind showers helping unwind, then again she never spent enough time under the water to allow for that. Baths weren't a treat - they were a utility. Like most utilities YN didn't have a lot of available growing up, so she learned to adapt.

Still, it was long enough to let her mind wander to everything that had occurred today. YN wasn't quite sure about how she felt about Dr. Kang, he unnerved her in a way other doctor's hadn't before. Then there was the issue regarding her medication: YN hadn't been unmedicated since she was eleven and that was a time she didn't want to go back to. Then there was the person that may have followed her and the man that definitely did. My head hurts. She rinsed herself and shut the water off, drying herself quickly with her towel. The chase had been real, too real, everything in YN's body had reacted instinctively once she met his eyes. Those dark eyes that had pierced into hers. The blonde man wasn't just chasing YN - he was hunting her down.

But what about the other person? YN hadn’t seen them, but she had felt them trailing after her. However, why would someone do that and especially for so long? The blonde man had only really tracked YN down for two blocks, but even then it felt shorter. The other person simply observed her. Didn’t do anything. Was there even someone there? YN glanced up, catching her reflection in the foggy mirror. The mist had dispersed in some sections, but not others so the only thing she could see were parts of her face. Faltering in her step, she walked forward and pulled the mirror open. Grabbing the white-labeled bottle with her name printed on it.

Habin sits atop the bathroom sink balancing himself. One of his hands gripping tightly to the side to not slip. This has to be done quickly before she gets back from the store. YN holds his legs or attempts to, while Habin finally manages to grab the bottle. “Is it this one?” He sticks his hand out for YN to see. The young girl squints her eyes, “Are they blue and little?” Hanbin looks through the orange tint of the bottle before nodding. “I think so.”

“Do they smell like fruits?”

“I can’t open the bottle YN. I don’t know if they smell like fruit.”

YN nods and Habin notes how hollowed out her face has become. Once round and plump, full of life, now looks as frail as his. “I think those are the ones.” Habin closes the medicine cabinet and cautiously jumps off, the medicine bottle still tight in his hands. “Why does she give them to you?” YN can note the confusion in her brother’s face, she was confused before too. “She says I need them to go to sleep. They help me sleep.” Habin stays quiet before in the blink of an eye he throws the pill bottle against the wall, breaking the seal causing all the pills to spill all over the floor.

“Bin why did you do that?! I need -”

“No! You don’t need anything YN. You aren’t sick, she's just lying to you!” Habin screamed in frustration. He could see the tears starting to well up in YN’s eyes and he felt regret pool in his stomach. “Please YN. You aren’t sick. We aren’t sick. Okay?”

YN took a deep breath, the way her brother had shown her would help stop the tears, the inside of her cheek was bitten harshly until her throat cleared up. “Okay.”

YN looks at the white bottle in her hand considering taking the medicine despite what Kang said. It would just be one more. Just to calm her down. To make sure that what happened tonight wasn't a side effect of going off so quickly. Her hand twisted the bottle cap, but instead of grabbing one and placing it in her mouth, she headed towards the toilet flushing them all away. Though she might not agree with his treatment plans Dr.Kang was a professional and surely knew more than she did. Plus, YN couldn't afford to be transferred again; her social worker might drop her altogether. It’s just until the blood work is completed.

“Unfortunately Miss YN, we won’t be able to conduct any tests until your insurance approves it.”

YN paces around her apartment, phone in hand. “I understand but my doctor ordered it. It’s necessary in order for him to treat me.”

“It appears that the necessary paperwork hasn’t been sent over to the insurance company. At least not enough to justify the exams. You can go through with them, but it will have to be out of pocket.”

YN sighs, running her hand through her hair as the nurse lists off the prices for each exam. A knock disrupts her causing YN to glance at the door questioningly, no one in her building would ever knock on her door. Looking through the peephole, she sees the manager and doesn't know if that makes her relieved or tenser. "I'm sorry can you just give me a minute?" YN speaks to the phone and mutes it, just to be safe. Upon opening the door, a brown bag is shoved in her face.

“Sorry to interrupt dear, some boy left this for you downstairs.”

Just as quickly as he came, the manager leaves. YN quickly shuts the door and locks it, before hanging up the call. The bag looks simple enough though YN hadn’t ordered anything in the past couple of days. Cautiously she opens it and the horror that spreads through her body is instantaneous. In the bag are her groceries from last night, but with minor changes: The red energy drink is now blue, the fruit salad is replaced with regular salad, and instead of bulgogi it is kimchi now. Though it isn’t the food that upsets YN, but rather the pink sticky note placed on top.

To replace everything you lost ;)

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Staying locked inside her apartment for the following days seemed like a smart choice. There was someone out there who knew where she lived. What she looked like. YN was used to being preyed upon, but this was a different game. Not one she was accustomed to. There were enough faded white lines and healed over bones to evidence that she was a survivor. That time and time again YN had faced against monsters and gotten out alive. The thing that terrified her about this monster - was how different he was. She kept waiting for the tall blonde man to show up one night: looming over her whilst she slept, crouching in a dark corner of the room. Lurking behind the shower curtain.

YN wasn’t able to sleep, didn’t bathe, and had thrice rearranged the room so there was no furniture to hide behind. Her paranoia was through the roof and it didn’t help that it had been the first time YN was off her medication for an extended amount of time. Which was bound to be causing more problems than she was aware of, or would like to acknowledge. The cycle continued until on her fourth day, sick of the grime, YN picked up the phone and dialed Dr.Kang’s office. Hoping to resolve the issue and be back on medication as soon as possible.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Kang isn’t in the office today. However, I can schedule a house call”

She hung up, not even bothering to respond to the secretary on the other line. If YN would have allowed herself a moment to feel anything except for fear - sympathy would've been felt for the probably nice young woman she had just hung up on. Maybe I can just sleep until my next appointment. Sleep it all away. So YN crawled into her bed, the covers lie somewhere on the floor. Exhaustion taking over as she drifted off to sleep.

It should've been easier to tell her childhood room apart from all the ones she had before. It had the most personality; if stickers on the wall, old pencil marks, and deteriorating plaster counted. Most of them hadn't even been done by her, but rather Habin in time before her. It created a sense of normalcy in YN's life that didn't exist elsewhere. Of course, her safe haven didn't last long, the hole in the wall right near the bed frame was proof enough. YN couldn't remember the last time she had dreamt, the medication helped with the nightmares, now she stood curled in a ball in the center of the room. The way she would always get once she heard the heavy footsteps approach the hallway.

YN had long learned to tell the different patter of the weathered old sneakers. Heavy stomps that scraped against the wood meant she was going to be screamed at. Rhythmic ones that were heavier on the heel, than the toes meant they might get dinner. While footsteps that dragged meant YN would be getting ignored. It was the ones she didn't hear. When the hallway was so quiet that all YN could hear was the sound of her breathing and the fear rushing through her tiny body - those were the steps she feared. Those were typically followed by the gentle, yet suspenseful pushing of her bedroom door. It didn't have a knob. There was no escape.

YN expected to peer up and see the tall large figure that always tormented her. The thick thighs, rounded hips, a bulbous stomach that spoke of all the meals she'd had - all the ones her children hadn't - and her face. It was much like YN's though much more feminine, older, and eyes devoid of life. It had always stood out to YN when she was a child, though she was certain that if she were to look in a mirror now YN would be the spitting image of her mother. Instead of her birth giver stood a man.

His face was angular, rounded cheeks, and sharp eyes highlighted by thick brows. His lips appeared full as if they were meant for bright large smiles, but it was obvious from the man’s expression he rarely did. There was something strangely familiar about him. An amalgamation of someone she knew and her own imagination, filling in the blank spaces. He looked like her, yet not at all. Tears welled in her eyes, “Bin?” Then he morphed. Now slightly taller, more weight to his frame. A rounded face with hooded eyes, the corner of his lips were tilted upwards in a way that was full of mirth. Dr. Kang faded as quickly as he came.

Now all she saw was a silhouette. Despite being mostly obscured, she could at least tell it was a man. He was lean yet muscular. His body was sharply defined in a way that seemed deliberate. Facial features were obscured, but YN was certain he was glaring at her in a way that caused goosebumps to rise all over her body. Plump pink lips parted moving slowly, tauntingly, but no sound exited them. Only by the smirk formed afterward could she tell their salacious nature. He stepped forward drawing closer to her, but the way he moved was inhumane. It wasn't a walk. But a predator's crawl towards her. Now he was finally in the light, entirely visible but all YN could focus on was the blonde mop of hair atop his head. When he pounced, she screamed.

YN awoke covered in sweat, her hair matted against her forehead and neck. She could still taste the saltiness of her tears and when she finally managed to breathe a sob tore out. Get out! Get out! Get out! If she remained locked inside her apartment for one more second, YN was going to reach her breaking point. Quickly she hopped in the shower before throwing on the first thing she saw and grabbing her wallet. YN didn’t know where she was headed, but her body acted on its own. Locking the apartment door before racing towards the stairs, dashing down all seven floors with little care if she tripped. Perhaps a silent part of her wished she did, it would put her out of her misery.

The lobby of her apartment building, if it could even be called that, was always empty. Never a soul in sight to guard the door, even though YN was sure part of her rent went towards security. Not to mention the intercom system, which allowed people to be buzzed in, hadn't worked for several weeks. It was something she was always acutely aware of but pushed towards the back of her mind. Wouldn't do her any favors to obsess over something she had no control over. Now walking through the desolate lobby out into the night - it was all she could think about. He was all she could think about.

YN took a deep breath and opened the glass doors sneakily peeking towards the sides and being thankful when she noted nothing great. Now where to? She wouldn't go very far nor somewhere unknown. It was reckless to be out so late and would be a death wish to try and enter city life. Gang violence was on the rise and YN didn't fancy herself prepared to face off against someone. So, YN went to the one place that felt familiar no matter what. The convenience store was a fifteen-minute walk, but she took the bus. The original plan was to sit towards the back, where she could see everything, but it wasn't empty. An elderly woman, far too frail-looking to be out this late, sat in the center. Whilst three boys huddled over sat in the back, they must have felt her eyes on them. As one of them - the one in the black beanie - stopped his conversation and turned slightly. Before they could make eye contact YN looked away and sat down.

“Which one do you want?” Habin asked as they stared at the ice cream truck. He had counted the cents twice making sure they had enough. “Hm,” YN eye’s glanced all over the various images glued onto the truck. She already knew what she wanted but had long learned that taking your time was important - not too much though. “Mint choco.” Habin grimaced, disgust evident on his face. “Come on YN. We have to share it. Why can’t we get something I like for a change?” He whined, it was only ice cream but it was the only food Habin was likely to have all day. “Okay, let’s get chocolate then.” YN didn’t really care, she wasn’t planning on eating. Habin had sacrificed enough meals to feed her, an ice cream was the least she could do.

As she steps into the cold building, a small bell chimed to signal her entrance, alerting a young employee near the cashier. 

“Welcome!” The boy smiles, wide and welcoming, handing her a basket,

YN didn’t respond. She walks towards the back, looking for some of her usual snacks, and before long, her basket was filled to the brim with all sorts of colorful foods, and she headed towards the till to pay, grimacing under the weight pulling at her arm. As she pulls out her purse, a soft chime catches her attention, making her glance at the door quickly, before trailing her eyes back. A familiar head of blonde flashes in her mind immediately, and despite herself, she found herself clenching her purse tightly, feeling her palms become clammy with sweat. What were the odds..?

“Is that all?” the cheery voice of the employee breaks her out of her trance as she nods back firmly, unable to push aside the nervous feeling from seeing the person walk in. Quickly weighing the options as she sees him bag all her groceries, she forces the question out before she can stop herself.

“Could you...walk me to the bus station?” Her voice was awkward and tight from keeping quiet most of the day, and she internally winced at the confused expression the other gave her.

“Are you..” he pauses, eyeing her carefully, “is someone trying to hurt you?” 

YN doesn’t know what to say. Could she tell him what she saw? Fortunately, she didn’t have to reply. The boy - Kai, as it said on his tag - seemed to assume her pause was a yes. Excusing himself, he disappears behind the counter, and within a moment, hushed voices coming from there. Something was unnerving about standing there alone with the blonde, chilling her to the bone, knowing she was faced away and he could pounce at any moment. As soon as the terrifying thoughts crept in, Kai stepped back out. He takes her bag and silently leads her out the glass doors, warm, still air hitting her face the minute she left the building. They walk side by side silently, and YN could only count her steps as she got closer and closer to the station.

Her steps quicken when she sees the familiar structure, tall gray pillars, and a few large buses waiting. Kai keeps up with her as well, not bothered by the bag that seemed to drag her down, looking around carefully. 

“Thank you.”

He smiles, what she initially assumed to be his practiced ‘customer service’ smile seemed a little more genuine now. Or maybe he was just very good at it - she wasn’t sure. She takes back the plastic bag, letting herself get used to the additional weight before turning to board the bus. 

“Have a safe trip home!” The boy calls out, making her look back.

YN was expecting to see him with his blinding smile, but something eerier catches her eye. The young employee was standing a few steps away from her, and behind him, dangerously close, was the blonde man from before. Her mouth goes dry as she notices his dark gaze fixated on her hand that held the railing inside, something else in them as he cocked an eyebrow. He almost looked as if he was questioning her, asking what she would do now that he was close, much closer, and positioned to attack the boy. Realizing he must have followed her all the way, she felt her heart rate pick up as she found herself rapidly staring between Kai and the perpetrator, the choices dawning on her. She had to choose to leave Kai behind, or possibly die with him. 

She felt her heart drop at the calm expression on the boy's face, not noticing the danger he was in, she knew he was young, but watching him now, she only just realized how young. He was so young, so innocent, with a whole life ahead of him - but because of some unfortunate circumstance, an unforeseeable future, he would have to throw everything away. 

But if she stayed for him, so would she. She would have to give up everything she had struggled for, while in any circumstance, the blonde would kill Kai, regardless of whether she chose to stay or not. However, she could spare her own life. She couldn’t convince Kai to get on with her without alarming the man, but she could save her own life. After everything she had gone through, trouble was the last thing YN needed. Even if it meant someone else had to suffer alone, she had to stay safe. She found herself holding back hot tears as she quickly ducked into a lonely seat, refusing to look back, still clenching the cheap plastic in one hand and forcing herself not to look back as the tears freely slid down her cheeks. 

‘Helping people only gets you into trouble. You do whatever it takes to survive.’

           “They tell me you’ve missed the appointment I had set up.”

           YN is noticeably tense as she sits in the blue velvet mid-century, her nails digging into the denim fabric of her jeans. “The insurance wasn’t notified,” her tone was clipped. Lower with a slight tremble to it as if it were about to break, but never really did. “I also needed a referral.” Dr. Kang frowned, glancing back down at the file before looking at YN questioningly. “That’s strange. I told my secretary to handle all the paperwork. I even told Joy to hand you the referral.” Seeing the confused expression on his patient’s face, he shrugged. “My apologies, Joy must have forgotten.” The smile he shoots her is sincere, or at least looks so, YN has no reason to doubt him any further on this matter.

Her posture slackens somewhat but given everything that has happened these past few days she finds it difficult to truly relax. YN feels that she is tethering at the edge of a breakdown, but that if she were to fall it would only make her circumstances worsen. There is something that has been bothering her though, how pacified everything has been as of late. The blonde man knew where she lived, he'd likely overheard her name as well, yet nothing had happened. Even Kang, with his cold calculating eyes, had not commented on her odd behavior the last session or how worse she had seemed to get after only being off her medication for a week. Why can’t I figure them out?

           “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to assign you any new medication until I have the results from the bloodwork. However, I do want to know how you’ve been feeling lately.” Kang crossed his legs, leaning forward in his seat. “Have you been experiencing any side effects or withdrawals? Anything I should know about?”

There was a glint in his eyes as he spoke, one that warned YN that he may know more than he lets on. As if the man sitting in front of her was single-handedly responsible for everything that had occurred to her recently. "Normal things…" I am being stalked by a homicidal maniac. “Migraines, low blood pressure…” I keep having vivid flashbacks that only serve to increase my paranoia. “Sometimes I dissociate a bit.” Most importantly, doctor, I had a nightmare where you were about to kill me. “And trouble sleeping.” YN looked towards the ceiling, feigning as if she were in deep thought. “I think that’s it.”

Kang Daniel looked affronted as if she had not given a sufficient enough answer. Hadn't given him the answers he wanted. "I see." His eyes darted towards her hands, which had been tightly intertwined on her lap - immediately she relaxes them. When their eyes meet once more she levels with him. YN knows there is no point in engaging with Kang, that is exactly what he wants. To pry. Dig deep. Learn of all her secrets and who knows what else. He won’t win. I’m safe here. YN had suffered too great a loss yesterday, she was determined to win this game.

           “I had time to go over your file YN. There’s a lot to discuss, but I would prefer to dive right in if you don’t mind.”

           “I-”

           “Very well,” She’d upset him. YN wasn’t even truly aware of what she’d specifically done, but it seemed to matter very little. “It states here you’ve been diagnosed with a personality disorder - at quite a young age too.

           “I was ten.” YN’s voice is muted. Her mind blank.

           “Do you agree with this diagnosis?” YN shrugs, her eyes move down to the file. She knows what he’s going to say next. Or she can at least predict it: it typically doesn’t vary. No matter how many times she goes through the same process the words and intentions are the same. It isn’t sincere sentiments, but rather rehearsed lies spewed to make her feel better - as if she ever could. No, YN is broken. No fixing her up.

           “I don’t. I think you were misdiagnosed.” YN’s eyes widen as they shoot back up to meet Kang’s. “The main reasoning behind this is because of your apparent lack of empathy, but that isn’t true either is it, YN?” Her mouth felt dry, she struggled to swallow the saliva building up. There was a build-up of breath in her lungs which was starting to become painful and she felt her throat tighten. “It’s a survival tactic. An effective one at that - if I may be honest.” So many thoughts were rushing to the forefront of YN’s head. So many memories. Stop. She wanted to scream. Please stop! She felt like she was going to throw up. Kang bent over, his face so close to YN's that she could see how dilated his pupil was: only leaving a sliver of his iris shines through.

Why is he doing this?!

“You feel something YN. It’s okay to feel things. You aren’t with your mother anymore anymore. You aren’t with your brother anymore. You’re safe and I know the next time something happens you’ll do the right thing.”

YN’s eyes were red, brimming with unshed tears as Kang’s words bounced around her head. “Dr. Kang -” She chokes, a sob threatening to escape, but the man doesn’t allow her to finish. “Our time is up. Pick up your referral at Joy’s desk. I will see you on our next appointment.” The smile given is full of sadistic glee.

YN didn’t know how long she had spent wandering around the city. Last she knew she had passed the bus stop and convenience store from last night. If she were smart YN would’ve gone back to her apartment. She didn’t want to though, not trusting herself to be alone. It had been mid-afternoon when she had left Kang’s office. Now it was pitch black with only a few people walking down the streets and cars passing by. Her phone was tucked away in her bag, YN couldn’t muster up enough energy to reach for it to know her location. The tears she shed had long ago dried, though their evidence remained clear to see on her face due to the streak marks and reddened nose.

Several voices were speaking to her, memories, all pulling her in different directions. One by one, YN blocked them out until only three remained. Her brother’s: “You’re not sick.” Dr. Kang’s: “You’ll do the right thing.” Lastly, the faintest one of all - hers: "What do I do?" She had muttered it without realizing it. A cry for help that traveled through the wind, searching for an answer or a sign. She would be granted one.

The scream was so loud, it tore straight through the foggy haze that had settled in her mind and YN found herself frozen in place. Glancing upwards, she noted that a few feet away to the left was an alleyway. That was it, wasn’t it? Yet her feet wouldn’t move. Her brother’s voice echoed so loudly that it barely allowed her to breathe much less move. Until, a stronger, much more powerful one broke through - “It’s okay to feel things...I know you’ll do the right thing.” Her feet were moving before YN had even a second to dwell on her decision. The alleyway was, deceptively long, but YN could see several silhouettes just from the entrance. Quickly she dug her hand into her bag and pulled out her phone, dialing emergency services but hovering over the call button. YN didn't even know where exactly she was - nor did she know what was going on either. It wouldn't do well to just rush in, thankfully about ten feet inlay a giant dumpster which YN crouched behind.  

Another scream echoed off the brick walls, a cacophony of laughter followed it. There’s more than one. YN had hoped it was a robbery or something simple, now she realized just how in over her head she may be. You can still walk away YN. Just walk away. Cautiously YN moved to sneak a glance. There was a singular lamp attached to one of the buildings that illuminated most of the alley. The faint light didn't allow her to make out specific features, but it was enough for her to bear witness to the disturbing scene. Seven men were standing all loosely crowded around a young couple: a man and woman whose bodies were severely bruised and beaten. The man's skull was cracked open with blood profusely leaking from the side of his head. Several teeth were scattered on the ground and his hand was tightened around his abdomen which seemed to have been cut as well. The woman beside him had most of her clothing ripped and large bruises on her side, an indicator of broken ribs. Her eyes moved deliriously as she muttered to herself.

YN’s attention lay entirely on the victims until she witnessed a crowbar fly through the air and land on the man’s leg, with a sickening ‘crack’ that had YN feeling nauseous. The man was too out of it to do anything but let out a small howl of pain. Her previous assumption had been right, there were seven men: all standing there with blood-stained clothes and mocking the man. There was something familiar about them, but YN couldn’t pinpoint what. All of them cheered as the man’s now dead body slumped to the side. Her phone had been long forgotten, YN observed everything now with a morbid fascination. Taking advantage of the perpetrator’s lack of attention the woman stood up slowly and bolted, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement and alerting them their prey had gotten away.

None of them moved - they simply observed her and YN watched in shock. Why aren’t they chasing her? Would they actually… By now the woman was only a few feet away from the entrance, she passed by YN and must've caught sight of YN's hunched over the figure for the woman's head snapped towards her. Causing both women to miss the figure dashing in their direction until it was too late. The woman was harshly tackled to the ground, her head bouncing off the pavement in sickening motion. There is a glint of something in his hand before a dagger plunges into the young girl's body multiple times. In a desperate move, she extends her hand reaching out towards YN begging for help but YN remains frozen. Eyes wide and teary as she cowers as close as she can to the wall, shaking her head she begs the woman not to speak. Begs her not to draw the perps attention. Please don’t!

“Please help me.”

The perpetrators head snaps towards YN and she finally sees him. He's tall, lean figure, plump lips, cat eyes, and ruffled blonde hair. The blood splattered across his face revealed the dark truth behind his angelic features. His dark hooded eyes trail across YN's body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. The blonde man looks like a predator savoring its next meal. Before he can pounce YN takes off running, unfortunately, he captures her with ease. Caging her body against his own, pillowy lips part and it dawns on YN she has never heard him speak before.

“Caught you.”

Just like that their game has come to an end, surely YN’s life will too. The two of them are so enraptured in each other, they don’t notice the figure slowly standing up and grabbing the abandoned knife on the floor. Not until the blonde man’s body sags slightly and YN notices the woman standing behind them. Don’t. She wants to say, furious that the woman wouldn’t have run away - escaped when she had the chance. For YN couldn’t bear another dead body on her subconscious. The blonde man turned around with pure rage steaming off his body, upset that his prey would dare to fight back. His arms gripped her head and with the slightest flick of his wrist, he broke the girl’s neck. When he turned back around to face his prize, he was shocked to find her expressionless staring at the corpse right in front of her.

YN came to a disturbing conclusion: She wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t helped me. As she once again made eye contact with the monster before her, all YN could see was her reflection in his eyes. Hanbin was right.

The man stepped forward and YN stepped back, crashing into the wall. His hands gripped at her sides, nails digging into her flesh harshly. He was formulating a plan, thinking about how best to kill her - YN could see it. It seems the universe had decided to take pity on her, or further condemn her, for just as his eyes were beginning to light up, the rest of the group made their presence known. “Jimin let’s go. The fun’s over.” Jimin? There was something familiar about that name.

“Funs not over yet, boys.” As if she weighed nothing, Jimin grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. YN struggled against him, aware that if she couldn’t handle one man, there was no way she could survive seven. “I finally found my pet.” What? When Jimin finally put her down, his arms encased her again showing her off to his friends as if she was some shiny new toy, they could look at but not touch. As YN glanced at them she found she recognized some of them, they’re from the bus. At that moment she realized that death had been following YN for a long time and even if she hadn't stepped into the alleyway tonight, their paths would have crossed eventually.  

“Ah, so you’re the girl Jimin’s been obsessed with.” The tall tan one with curly dark hair spoke, his low baritone voice was mocking in nature.

“She’s not that pretty.” muttered another one, with rounded eyes and a tall nose.

“Now, come on kookie. Don’t be mean, she’s a lot prettier than what we’re used to.” The third man’s tone was higher pitched, lips stretched into a heart-shaped smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What do you think we should do, Namjoon?” spoke the light-haired one dawned in all black. His eyes darting over to the tallest member, his platinum hair shining brightly in the dark alleyway.

When Namjoon spoke it was deliberate and calculated, his eyes boring into YN’s, his words dripping with implication. “We should take this one to go.”

Distantly YN could hear the wailing of sirens rushing towards them before Kookie stepped forward and delivered a right hook to her face, making her lose consciousness.

[jonahlovescoffee]

“everything’s alright” | J.M.

part two of the better together series

a/n: thanks to @chilling-seavey for sending this cute video into my dms that managed to inspire me to write this <3 even though it came out worse than my expectations :/ anyways, should i name this kid or nah? happy reading!!!

summary: jonah’s the only one who can calm his wailing daughter down.

warnings: more fluff!!!

word count: 1958

Your daughter was exceptionally well-behaved and polite -- only towards people that she’s familiar with, that is, which was why she was a literal angel when she was around the Frantzich family because Jonah, being the responsible son he was, had brought you guys back to his hometown quite frequently to visit his family and they, in turn, adored her very much.

But when it came to visiting your side of the family — something that you rarely did because they lived in another country — it was a different story entirely.

“Mommy, whose house is this?” Your daughter tugged at your hand to get your attention after you pressed the doorbell. She was rubbing her tired eyes with one hand, still a little drowsy after waking up from a long nap on the plane and in the taxi ride to your parents’ house.

“This is grandma and grandpa’s house, can’t you remember? We came here once last year,” you explained and she instantly clung tighter to your hand, her tired expression being replaced by a frightened one as she seemed to fully process what this meant. Being at your parents’ place meant family gatherings and family gatherings meant the presence of too many unfamiliar faces and loads of unwanted attention on her since she was not just the youngest of the generation, but also the kid who was only around once in a blue moon and she wasn’t a fan of too much attention unless it’s from her parents.

“Can we go home, please?” She pleaded yearningly and you offered her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, they won’t bite,” you assured her, but your words did almost nothing to soothe her nerves.

“Plus, I’m here with you this time,” Jonah appeared beside the two of you, having already unloaded all your bags from the boot of the taxi and paid the fare. He reached a hand out to ruffle her hair. “Nothing will go wrong.”

She was about to open her mouth to say something else when the door was suddenly opened by your sister, whose face lit up immediately upon seeing you. “Oh my gosh, hi guys! You’re finally here!” She exclaimed excitedly, extending both of her arms to pull you into a tight embrace. “I missed you so damn much.”

“It’s nice to see you too, sis,” you said as she proceeded to squeeze the air out of you, with no intentions of letting you go anytime soon. “Dummy, you know I love your hugs but if you continue squeezing me any harder I’m going to suffocate,” you joked and she released you with a laugh.

“And you brought along your hot boyfriend this time!” She squealed like a lovestruck fangirl as she gave Jonah another one of her infamous spine-crushing hugs and exchanged quick greetings before squatting down to match your daughter’s eye level.

“Who do we have here?” Your sister cooed at your daughter who was currently hiding behind your leg, staring at your sister warily. “Hi, little one, it’s just me, your aunt,” she held out a hand but your daughter seemed utterly petrified by her friendly gesture and extended her little hands towards you.

“Mommy, up, up,” she whimpered but you didn’t oblige to her request, which made her whining intensify. “Mommy, up, now!”

“Come on, hug your aunt, not mommy,” you urged but she stood at her spot, unmoving, now stomping her feet, still begging you profusely to pick her up.

With a sigh, you eventually picked her up from the ground and she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “She’s shy,” you told your sister, earning an understanding nod from her.

“No worries, I’ll show Jonah the way to the guest bedroom, then,” she stood up and took one of the luggage from Jonah despite his protests and turned on her heels, walking towards the stairs.

Before Jonah could follow suit though, as if she could sense him about to walk away, your daughter yanked on his sleeve to stop him. “Daddy, where are you going? Don’t leave me.”

“Don’t be silly, love. Daddy’s just going to put our bags in the room,” he leaned in to kiss her forehead once. “I’ll be back in a jiffy, you be a good girl with mommy, okay?”

She nodded and let go of him and with a peck on your cheek, he left you both on your own devices. You carried your moody daughter and followed the loud sound of chatter into the living room where most of your family members were gathered at, so deeply immersed in whatever conversation they were having that no one noticed your arrival.

“Hi,” you said meekly and heads snapped towards you all at once, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Oh my gosh, y/n!” After you returned all the hugs by your relatives, much to your daughter’s dismay, you plopped down on the last vacant spot on the couch. As expected, everyone started to bombard you with questions about your life abroad and some tried to humor your daughter to no avail. Yet despite not receiving any response from her no matter how hard they tried, they didn’t give up and leave her alone which was what she truly wanted them to do. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to go somewhere quiet where she could be free of all the attention. She turned towards you to find you happily engaged in a conversation with someone else with the broadest grin plastered on your face.

And she didn’t like the fact that said person appeared to be another man. Based on her 3-year-old childish logic, no other man was allowed to make you as happy as you were now except for Jonah.

She had to stop this now.

“Mommy, mommy,” she called and you stopped talking to focus on her.

“Yes, hun?”

“I don’t wanna be here,” she whined and you pressed your lips into a thin line, slightly annoyed by how your daughter was acting.

“Yes, hun, I know you don’t but mommy wants to catch up with her family, understand?” You pointed to the group of kids playing in the opposite of the living room. “Why don’t you go ahead and join your cousins?” You suggested, expecting her to agree with you but she did the opposite.

Her lips started quivering and started to tear up, indicating that she was about to burst into tears if you didn’t do something quick. You hurriedly looked around for anything that could help you in this situation and spotted a container of cookies on the table, so you unscrewed the lid and took one out for her. “Ssh, don’t cry, here’s a cookie.”

Thankfully, she accepted it and didn’t activate her waterworks, enjoying her cookie in silence as you continued to chat with your relatives. But the calm didn’t last for long.

“How old is she already?” Your brother asked, kneeling in front of the both of you.

Your daughter didn’t like how close he was to you. And her.

She hated being around people that were strangers to her, especially males. There was something intimidating about them that never failed to strike fear in her.

“Three,” you answered and softly nudged her shoulder. “Say hi.”

Your daughter stayed quiet. “Honey? What did I teach you about manners?” You said with an edge in your tone.

Without warning, he picked her up and away from the safety of your lap. “Maybe this little sunshine needs my hug to warm up to me, don’t you, little one?”

That was all it took for her to start wreaking havoc.

“Get away from me! I wanna go home; I wanna go home; I wanna go home!” She wailed, flailing her limbs all around to his shock and he passed her back to you immediately.

Still, she couldn’t stop bawling her eyes out.

“Shhh, baby there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you cooed and stroked her hair in a poor attempt to calm her down. You were half-mad at her for being rude but you knew that it wasn’t the right time to lecture her unless you wanted the current situation to worsen. You weren’t exactly an expert at soothing her nerves. Jonah was the one who’s extremely good at this.

Speaking of him, where on earth is he now? He had been upstairs for a suspiciously long amount of time

As if on cue, your boyfriend walked down the stairs in a fresh set of clothes and completely freshened up. He quickly sprinted towards you when he witnessed the chaos and took her from you right away. “Let me take it from here.”

You mouthed a quick “you’re a lifesaver” and blew him a kiss before returning to your conversation.

Her crying died down instantly when she was in his arms. He knew she hated crowds so he walked through the dining room and the kitchen before reaching transparent sliding doors that led to the backyard. He slid them open and stepped out of the house, his feet coming into contact with the soft grass on the ground.

“Now, what’s wrong, sunshine?” He asked softly. His daughter’s head was resting against his chest, sniffling, her fingers toying with the pendant hanging on the chain around his neck.

“There’s too many new people in the room,” she complained. “It makes me nervous.”

Jonah waited for her to elaborate but she did nothing of the sorts. “I don’t think that’s the whole story, sweetheart.”

“Mommy kept talking to that particular guy and I don’t like it,” she admitted, twirling his chain around her fingers as she continued speaking. “Then he suddenly picked me up and called me ‘sunshine’. Only you can call me that so I…” she trailed off.

“So you lost it?” He asked her and she nodded. “Oh, sunshine, that was just mommy’s brother,” he explained and she seemed to relax a little at his answer.

“But why didn’t you go to play with your cousins in the first place if you disliked the attention?”

“I don’t know. What if they don’t like me?” He chuckled at her question.

“Sweetheart, you know that they’re your cousins, right?” He patted her head gently. “Which means that they’re family and they’ll love you no matter what,” he assured but she didn’t seem the least bit convinced.

“Look, everything’s alright. There’s nothing for you to worry about, sunshine,” he smiled warmly, which made her lips tug slightly upwards into a small smile as well. Seeing that she’s happy now, he re-entered the house and proceeded to make his way back towards the living room.

“Absolutely positively nothing?”

“Absolutely positively nothing,” he said and planted a kiss on her head.

“Now go on and have some fun with your cousins,” he placed her down onto the ground and she ran off in the direction of the group of little kids that she bonded with almost immediately.

Jonah went to sit beside you on the arm of the couch. You leaned into him habitually and placed a hand on his thigh.

“Everything’s settled, my lady,” he said, his voice only loud enough for you to hear.

“Even after all this time I still have no idea how you do it,” you managed to reply before everyone else turned their attention to your boyfriend and started to interrogate him like he was some kind of criminal.

“You know what? I’m starting to understand why our daughter doesn’t want to be here. Damn, does your family really need to know my height or they’ll die or something?” He whispered to you when it was time for lunch and everyone went to the dining room.

You laughed and looped your arm through his as you led him into the dining room.

[twomanyideas]

The Way To A Man's Heart - Chapter 2

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404​

AO3 | Prev: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Next:

Chapter 2

The hotel was fancier than Natsu remembered from their previous visit with Happy, Erza and Lucy, but he wasn’t all that concerned about it. Stuff like that had never mattered to him. He was much more worried about the line of people waiting to get into the restaurant. He’d been about to complain about it, but he never got the chance.

“Relax, Pyro. We have a reservation, remember?”

Right. And he was thankful for that. Outside of the unexpected train ride, this dinner had been a godsend. The perfect solution to what had been shaping up to be an uncomfortable situation.

Natsu loved his guildmates; they were his nakama after all, but they were too damn nosy for their own good. It was bad enough that they’d already made Gray’s life miserable by encouraging Juvia’s antics despite his constant rejections, but now it seemed they’d set their sights on him.

He knew he should have expected it, but he’d hoped that they would have interpreted his lack of romantic interest in Lucy for what it was. Instead, they’d decided he was oblivious, and encouraged her as well.

Natsu loved Lucy dearly. He just wasn’t in love with her, but he didn’t want to hurt her by telling her that. He’d kind of hoped she’d get bored by his lack of response and move on to someone else. Someone like Loke, who was clearly crazy about her. But that hadn’t happened yet, and even worse, he’d overheard Mira telling Cana that Lucy planned to make her move that night.

He’d jumped at the chance to escape the guild. A night full of food and drink was just what he’d been in the mood for, and the prospect of hanging out with Gray intrigued him.

He followed Gray to a podium, where a hostess greeted them. That already was a big change from the places they usually ate. The hostess verified their reservation and handed them off to a server, who led them down a dimly lit hallway and into a small room.

“Your table isn’t ready yet, but this is our lounge,” she announced with a smile. “It’s not as noisy as our main bar, and you can still enjoy a drink while you wait.”

She gestured towards the lounge’s bar area and left. Music played softly on the room’s music lacrimas, and along with the usual bar stools there were several sofas that looked more expensive than Natsu’s house, contents included. He decided the bar stools were probably safer.

The lounge had large windows, giving them a splendid view of the ocean.

“Oh wow, this is great!” he exclaimed, watching the people on the beach enjoy the warmth and beauty of the setting sun. Everyone looked like they were having so much fun, and there had been so many stalls to check out. He longed to go join them.

When was the last time they’d been able to do anything fun?

“Yeah,” Gray agreed. “Maybe we can check it out after we eat? Mavis knows I won’t be able to get you back on the train after that.”

Natsu hated to admit it, but Gray probably had a point. They took their seats, and the bartender walked over to them.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” she asked politely. “Yeah.” Gray pored over the wine and cocktail menu he received. “Could we get two of those magic drinks?” “Excellent choice, Sir. Two Magic Wonders coming right up.”

Natsu’s stomach rumbled as the smell of food wafted over to them, causing Gray to roll his eyes at him. Gray got the bartender’s attention again and added, “Can we get an order of your spiciest appetizer too?”

“Sure thing.” The bartender put their order in and continued to mix drink orders.

Gray got up and patted Natsu's shoulder, “There, don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Hey, where you going?”

“To take a leak.”

He walked off and Natsu watched him go, amused to notice his friend had kept his shirt on for once. It felt almost unnatural. His eyes lingered briefly on Gray’s broad shoulders, traveling down his back, and before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself staring at Gray’s ass and thinking about how nice it was.

“Oh, and try not to destroy the place while I’m gone.”

Gray turned around then, a teasing smile on his face which turned into a wink when he noticed Natsu’s eyes on him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Natsu spluttered, his cheeks red with indignation, or at least that’s what he told himself, refusing to acknowledge for the moment that his best friend had caught him checking him out. Gray’s parting chuckle irritated him even more.

Stupid Ice Princess. Like he couldn’t be left alone for five minutes without getting into trouble. What did Gray think he was, a Vulcan in a pottery shop?

But seriously, what in the world had possessed him to do that?

It had to be Juvia. He cursed her for his sudden awareness. Ever since she’d joined the guild it had been Gray-sama this and Gray-sama that, until the guy’s name lingered in the air, working its way into Natsu’s brain like some kind of annoying hypnotic suggestion he couldn’t escape.

Yeah, that had to be it.

He went back to staring out the window while he waited for Gray to return.

0-0

Gray entered the restaurant’s bathroom, closing the door behind him quietly and checking the stalls to make sure they were empty before he allowed himself to react.

“Yes!” He pumped his fists in the air in celebration, smiling so widely he barely recognized himself in the mirror.

He had a chance! Natsu had been checking him out, and that had never happened before. At least, not that he’d ever noticed.

Feeling more confident that this plan might actually get him somewhere, Gray did his business, his head up in the clouds, filled with possible dream scenarios about how the evening could go.

You've got a little something there. Oh, it's me! Nah, too corny.

That sunset looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Not nearly as beautiful as you, though. Ugh… too sappy.

There had to be some smooth move he could make, something not too in-your-face yet still obvious enough even the Flame Brain would get it.

Well, whatever. He had Natsu all to himself tonight, with an enjoyable meal ahead of them and the beach to look forward to after that. He'd think of something. For now, he’d start small. Maybe he’d offer a compliment. Everyone liked those. Right?

Gray washed his hands, and after giving himself one last pep talk, he headed back to the bar. As he walked, he tried to remember a joke Loke had told him earlier. It had been a little crass, but he was sure Natsu would find it funny. Gray could almost hear Natsu’s laughter ringing in the air.

Yeah, just like that.

It took him a second to realize he hadn’t imagined it. As he got closer to the lounge, he could hear Natsu’s laughter loud and clear, and Gray thought it was the best sound in the world. A smile spread across his face, only to be wiped off immediately at the sight that greeted him at the bar.

More specifically, at the sight of the barstool he’d left behind, which was now occupied by none other than Sting Fucking Ew-cliffe.

He’d only been gone for a few minutes. Where had Sting even come from?!

Gray clenched his fists, fighting off the urge to grab the Sabertooth Master by the collar of his shirt and pull him out of his seat. But as much as he’d like to do something like that, he knew it was a bad idea. If he was a jerk, it would piss Natsu off and that would be the end of their evening.

Instead, he plastered a smile on his face and approached the two dragon slayers.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, hey, you’re back,” Natsu said as his laughter died down. “Sting told me a joke.”

Sting offered Gray a half wave, looking unexcited to see him. The feeling was entirely mutual.

“Well, it was nice of you to stop by to say hello but don’t let us keep you.”

“Me? Nah, I’ve got time to spare. Our table isn’t ready either.” Sting casually rested his arm on the bar and turned to Natsu, “I’m surprised to see you guys here.”

Great. This was going to be awhile. Gray decided he might as well sit down and begrudgingly claimed the vacant stool on Natsu's other side.

“Our table?” He looked around, trying to spot anyone he might recognize from Sabertooth. “I don’t see anyone else here. Did you get stood up?” “Of course not! He’s just late,” Sting said, sounding pretty sure of himself even as his legs bounced on the edge of the stool and his eyes darted in the direction of the hallway they'd come in from.

“Stood up? So you’re on a date?” Natsu asked, pouting in disappointment and giving Gray a mini heart attack for a second until he added, “I thought maybe Rogue would join you.” Sting promptly stilled, staring at Natsu and blinking rapidly. “Uhm... Rogue is my date.”

Natsu laughed heartily, “Good one, but seriously, is it anyone we know?”

Gray winced, almost feeling sorry for the guy. Definitely not what you wanted to hear, especially not from someone you looked up to. With any luck, Rogue would get there before Natsu’s obliviousness destroyed Sting’s confidence any further. Although, he had to admit that would be fun to watch, too.

“Why wouldn’t it be Rogue? I mean, you and uhm-” Sting looked over at Gray, eyes narrowing in concentration and fingers snapping before he shrugged his shoulders- “him don’t strike me as dating either, but here you are.”

“Well, but aren’t you the Twin Dragons? I thought you guys were brothers.”

Brothers?!

How the hell could Natsu think that? Sure they were called the Twin Dragons, but they looked nothing alike. They even had different last names, for fuck’s sake.

Gray could only stare at him in amazement. He was in love with an idiot. Might as well say he was moronsexual.

Sting spoke up before Gray could call Natsu out.

“That’s just our team name, stupid. Do you really think I’d date my brother?”

“Do you really think Gray would ask me out on a date?” It started out as a chortle, but Natsu soon burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Gray no longer thought it was the best sound ever.

“Why wouldn’t he? And I mean, look at this place-” Sting gestured at the fancy decor and the expensive furniture in the lounge- “It doesn’t exactly scream just friends, does it?”

Natsu shrugged, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "Nope, that’s not what happened here. I just overheard Gray talking about having a reservation at an all you can eat restaurant as part of a job reward and invited myself along."

It seemed his and Loke’s plan had worked a little too well. Gray desperately wanted to ask Natsu what he would have said if he had asked him out, but he wasn’t about to do that in front of Sting.

“You got a reservation as a reward? Man, I wish I’d seen that job.” Sting looked at Gray, eyes wide in disbelief. “I had to make one 3 weeks in advance!”

3 Weeks?!

Gray had no idea this place was that popular, and he wondered what strings Loke had pulled to get the last minute reservation. And more importantly, what he would ask for in return. He’d better make the most of it.

“Do you think Rogue will like it? It's our first date, so I wanted to impress him.” Sting looked around the lounge, suddenly eyeing the place with a look of dread.

“Um... sure,” Natsu said, “It has an awesome view of the beach and, you know, there’s food.”

“You’ve just described every restaurant in Akane,” Gray pointed out. Then again, he was pretty sure with restaurants, Natsu didn’t pay attention to anything outside of the food.

Natsu shrugged. “Where are our appetizers and drinks, anyway? Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

Gray silently agreed. He was hungry, and he’d really like for their date to start, minus the interloper.

“What about me? Do I look okay?” Sting stood up and turned around, eyes wide as he awaited their judgment.

“There’s something different about you. What is it?” Natsu muttered, tapping his chin with his finger as he studied Sting.

“Well, for one, he’s wearing an actual shirt.” Gray said with a frustrated sigh. This was not how he had envisioned their date going. What was it going to take to get rid of this guy?

Actually…

“You look fine, dude. Might have overdone it a bit on the cologne, though.”

“He’s not the only one.” Natsu scrunched up his nose. “You both smell like one of the Trimens.”

Gray bit back a retort, but Sting went into a panic, grabbing a napkin from the bar and scrubbing his neck. “Fuck, I knew it was too much. Does this help any? It doesn't, does it? I should clean it off.”

He bolted out of the lounge, dodging a few other guests who were being guided to their table, and shouting a “be right back” over his shoulder. Just as Gray had hoped he would.

“Take all the time you need,” Gray called out after him cheerfully, reclaiming his original seat because… well, he’d had it first.

“Well, that was something.” He said, glossing over that minor act of pettiness. “Didn’t think we’d bump into anyone we knew.”

“Hey, you think they'd be down for a fight later?” Nasu asked, punching his left fist into the palm of his right hand.

“Of course not. They’re on a date, moron. Do you really think they’d want to do something like that?”

“I would.”

“On a date?” Gray challenged, although he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. This was Natsu, after all.

“Yeah, why not? Aren’t you supposed to have fun on dates?”

Gray couldn’t really argue with that, and fighting with Natsu was always fun. He was about to suggest they spar later when he spotted the bartender coming their way.

“Two Magic Wonders, and some Firecracker Shrimp to whet your appetite,” she announced, arriving with their drinks and appetizer and setting them down before them. “Apologies for the long wait, we're fully booked tonight so we're a little backed up.”

Finally!

“I think they’re broken,” Natsu complained, examining the drinks with slight disappointment, “they just look like two glasses of plain water.”

Gray had to give him that one. This wasn’t what he’d expected from the so-called magically infused cocktails either.

“The spell is still unfinished,” the bartender explained. “You need to wrap your hand around the cup and focus some of your magic energy into it. It doesn’t need much-”

Gray could tell Natsu had stopped listening. Before she'd finished her sentence, he'd already grabbed the cup in his hand and set it on fire.

“Natsu!”

"Sir!"

He ignored the protests from both Gray and the bartender, keeping his attention on the glass, which had begun to shake in his hand. The liquid bubbled and turned bright red, and then it shot up like a failed potion, right into Natsu's face.

“You idiot! Do you ever think?!”

So much for not insulting him.

“Geez, relax, will ya? A little thing like that isn’t gonna hurt me,” Natsu pointed out, evaporating the liquid easily, as Gray had seen him do so many times. The bartender breathed an audible sigh of relief, wiping the remaining spillage from Natsu's drink off the bar with a cleaning rag. “I’ll be right back with another drink,” she assured them before moving to another section of the bar, where she restarted the mixing process.

“You’re still an idiot,” Gray grumbled, making Natsu laugh in response.

“Well, you know what they say, it takes one to know one.”

Gray opened his mouth to answer, but Natsu quickly changed the subject.

“Why don’t you try it then?”

“Gladly.”

Gray focused a small amount of magic on his hand and wrapped the glass in a thin layer of ice. As soon as he did so, bubbles sprouted from the bottom, rising to the surface and forming a vortex that spun until the liquid had changed color from clear to the vibrant blue of glacier ice. Vapor rose from the liquid’s surface and transformed into small snowflakes that gently floated back down into the drink.

“That’s so dainty. Precisely what I’d expect from an Ice Princess,” Natsu snickered. “I bet mine’s gonna be way cooler.”

“I just hope the restaurant’s still in one piece by the time you’re done.”

Gray took a small sip, swishing the contents around in his mouth and closing his eyes.

The liquid was cold, so much so that it sent a small but welcome shiver up his spine. Hints of chocolate and peppermint danced on his tongue, reminding him of when he’d lived with Ur and Lyon.

Their training had been intense, but on days when she’d been pleased with their progress, Ur had made him and Lyon hot cocoa that tasted much like this. She had made them responsible for crushing the candy mints, and they would bicker about the best way to do it as Ur laughed at them from behind the stove. He could almost picture it, and rather than cause him the usual grief, the memory made him smile.

He opened his eyes to find Natsu watching in rapt fascination, his curiosity just about bursting out of him.

“Well? What did it taste like?”

Gray didn’t answer right away, still caught up in his memories. It took him a while to even register that Natsu was staring at him, focusing on his lips as if he’d never seen them before.

Gray thought of how to describe it, and suddenly he knew. “It tastes like winter.”

And just like that, Natsu snapped out of his trance, bouncing in his seat with excitement. “Ooh, me! I want to try winter!” Gray covered his drink with his hand, fixing Natsu with a glare that screamed at him to back off.

“Come on, don’t be so stingy! I don’t have a drink.”

“And whose fault is that? Besides, I don’t know where your mouth has been. No way I want that in my drink!”

Natsu pouted, but soon mischief crept into his eyes. Before Gray could consider what that could mean, Natsu had already grabbed his hand. Gray’s heart beat faster, not sure where Natsu was going with this, but excited just the same. Natsu’s tongue darted out, licking a stripe across the palm of Gray’s hand while maintaining eye contact.

Holy shit!

“Now you do,” Natsu grinned, looking quite pleased with himself even as Gray struggled to come up with an appropriate reaction. He took advantage of that, grabbing Gray’s glass and taking a sip.

“What do you know! Your magic actually tastes good, kind of like peppermint hot chocolate.”

Gray looked away, not wanting Natsu to see just how much his little stunt had affected him.

“So, uh, what were you thinking about? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.”

“My drink tasted like the hot cocoa Ur used to make for us,” Gray said, relieved to be back on more comfortable ground.. “I hadn’t thought about that in a long time.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, you dumbass? I wouldn’t have pushed.”

“Yeah, you would have.” Gray chuckled.

Natsu tried to deny it, but he must’ve known it was a stretch, so he laughed along with Gray. “Okay, yeah. I would have.” He grabbed a Firecracker Shrimp and chewed on it. And for the second time since they’d arrived, Gray caught him staring out the window. “Another Magic Wonder,” the bartender returned with Natsu's drink. She'd also brought a fire extinguisher, and was trying, but failing, to hide it subtly under the bar.

If Natsu had noticed, he didn't seem to be bothered by it, focusing only on the glass in front of him.

“Don't overdo it this time,” Gray reminded him.

Natsu furrowed his brow in concentration, coating his glass in a small flame and anxiously watching the liquid change color again. It slowly turned that same intense red from before. Instead of the vapor from Gray’s drink, there was a plume of smoke that transformed into a bright flame that remained lit.

He eyed it for exactly one second before drinking all of it down in one gulp.

Gray had expected Natsu to react in some over the top manner. To yell, or go on about how his drink was superior, just like his magic, but there was only silence. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Now that he was paying more attention, Gray could see that Natsu’s eyes were teary.

“Natsu?” Gray put a hand on his arm, worried by the uncharacteristic change. “What’s happening?”

“I’m fine, it’s just- it tasted like Igneel’s fire,” Natsu sniffled, hugging the cup to his chest with reverence. “It’s been so long since I last tasted it and now it’s all gone.”

Oh no! Natsu looked like he was ready to cry. That wasn’t supposed to happen on a date! Gray panicked, not knowing what to do or say to make Natsu feel better. He looked at his drink, still sitting on the bar, and considered offering it to him.

Idiot! He won’t want your stupid drink after tasting Ignel’s fire. Oh, of course! How dense could he be? He could order him another one.

“Don't worry, I’ll get you another one.”

Gray scrambled out of his seat after glimpsing the bartender serving a customer at the other end of the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder, determined to fix this slight glitch in his plans.

He waited as patiently as he was able for her to finish.

“I need another Magic Wonder.”

“Sure, I’ll put in an order, but it’s going to take a while. We’re very backed up.”

“Isn't there something I can do to speed it up?” He thought of the jewels in his pocket. “I can pay extra if that helps.”

“Sir, I already-”

“Please? This can literally make or destroy my night.”

The bartender glanced over at Natsu, who still looked despondent, hugging the empty glass to his chest. Her expression softened slightly. “Alright, I’ll do it just this once. Stay right there.”

Gray nodded, tapping his fingers on the bar as he waited. A couple sat next to him blocking his view of Natsu but he dared not move, worried the bartender might decide to give the drink to someone else.

As soon as she returned with his order, Gray turned around, almost dropping the drink he'd shamelessly begged for when he saw his bar stool once again occupied by someone who wasn't him. Any relief he might have felt that it wasn't Sting this time was overshadowed by dismay at seeing Rogue talking to Natsu, leaning in ever so slightly and nodding in sympathy.

Oh, come on!

He all but stomped his way back over, still careful not to spill any of the drink, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get another for quite a while.

“You’re in my seat,” Gray informed Rogue, attempting to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know.” Rogue got up and moved to stand on the other side of Natsu.

“Here you go,” Gray said, placing the fresh drink in front of Natsu before reclaiming his seat.

He watched as Natsu put the glass he had been holding on the bar and stared at the new drink with something akin to awe. He cupped his hand around it and let out the barest flicker of magic to complete the spell.

“Are you okay?” Gray asked worriedly, not used to seeing Natsu act this way.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to waste any of it.”

The way he said that made Gray feel like he was intruding, so he turned his attention to Rogue, who still stood peering into the dim corners of the lounge.

“You’re looking for Sting, right? He’s in the bathroom,” Gray informed him, frowning as he realized the Sabertooth Master had been gone for quite some time. “Come to think of it, he’s been in there a while.”

Rogue looked heavenward and sighed. “Great. I hope he's not munching on the paper towels again.”

“Seriously? That’s disgusting!” Gray pursed his lips in distaste.

“Meh, he’s eaten worse things.” Rogue shrugged, taking a seat next to Natsu.

To Gray’s slight surprise, he in no way looked like he was about to go on a first date. As far as Gray could tell, Rogue looked just about the same as he always did, contrary to Sting, who had obviously dolled himself up for the occasion like a teenage girl.

Gray leaned back so he could see past Natsu and study the shadow dragon slayer better, wondering if he was about to deal with another nervous wreck. But Rogue showed no signs of being anxious. If anything, he looked tired and frazzled, which Gray guessed made sense. The guy was late, probably just rolled off a train.

“Is something wrong? Was this your seat too?” Rogue frowned at him, realizing he was under scrutiny.

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m just surprised. The way Sting was talking earlier I thought you’d be more into this,” Gray said, turning his attention back to Natsu.

He seemed to have calmed down, although he appeared to be in deep thought while staring at his drink. Gray supposed there was a first time for everything. He’d give him a few more minutes to snap out of it. It’s not like they could get anywhere until they were either called to their table or Sting got out of the damn bathroom.

“This? This what? You mean the restaurant?”

“He means Sting,” Natsu said, joining the conversation when Gray least expected it.

“What about Sting?” “If you don't like him, just tell him. He's your friend. You should be honest with him about how you feel.”

Rogue flinched so hard he almost slid off his seat. “I- What? What the hell are you talking about?”

Gray began to suspect that Rogue was as clueless as Natsu as to why he was there.

“Rogue! You made it!” Gray, Natsu and Rogue all turned towards Sting’s voice, which could somehow be heard over all the other noise. He walked toward them in quick steps and Gray brought his hand up to his mouth to cover up the laugh he couldn’t contain.

Sting’s shirt was covered in wet spots. His hair, which had been styled in perfectly gelled spikes, had flattened into bangs, and there was a long piece of toilet paper attached to one of his shoes.

He’d gone to wash off some cologne, but had returned looking like a survivor of some bizarre bathroom battle, and somehow he still reeked of cologne. But you wouldn't know it from his beaming smile.

Sting walked up to Rogue, reaching into his pocket and pulling out... something Gray couldn’t make out at first because he shoved it at Rogue with such speed that it became nothing but a blurry shape.

“Here, for you.” Sting said, placing what looked to be a small box into Rogue's hand.

“What’s this for?” Rogue said, breaking away from the mess that was Sting, to glance down at the box.

“Open it.”

Rogue slowly slid the elastic bow off and opened it. Whatever was inside caused him to jerk his head back toward Sting with wide eyes.

“Oh.”

“Do you like it?” Sting stared at Rogue in a way that Gray recognized, with a face full of hope and hearts in his eyes.

“I-I uh,” Rogue stuttered, looking back and forth rapidly between Sting, Gray, Natsu, and the lounge. “Give me a minute...”

“You know, I‘m thinking Rogue didn’t know this was a date.” Natsu whispered in Gray’s ear, which was to say he’d blurted it out in a voice loud enough to make his ears ring.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do,” Natsu nodded, the obvious sarcasm flying straight over his head. “I kinda feel bad now. Maybe we should have told him.” Gray stiffened, Natsu’s words along with the advice he’d offered Rogue earlier echoed through his head. No matter how the thought caused his stomach to twist itself into knots, he knew he’d have to be honest about his intentions at some point. Natsu was his friend too, he deserved as much. “Is that true?” Sting’s shoulders slumped upon hearing the less than subtle conversation between them. “But I asked you and everything.” “Yes, I realize that now,” Rogue said, sounding a bit snappy, which Gray couldn’t blame him for. He gathered himself quickly, though, taking a deep breath and getting up from his seat. “Come-” he grabbed Sting’s hand and led him to a sofa that had just opened up when a couple was called to their table. Gray took another sip of his drink, mirroring Natsu, who he could tell was focusing his ears on the Twin Dragons’ conversation. Under any other circumstance, Gray wouldn’t give a damn about how that would unfold, but the possibility of having a heartbroken Sting join them for the rest of the night changed things a bit. He nudged Natsu, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Natsu didn’t answer, still listening, but if his expressions were anything to go by, it was not going well. Fuck. Please. This can’t be happening… Curiosity getting the best of him, Gray peeked over his shoulder. Sting looked positively dejected, and the visible part of Rogue's face looked no better. “Well, this is awkward.” Gray turned back to Natsu, not sure if he’d be able to watch that train wreck in his current situation. Would his night end like that, too? “Yeah,” Natsu sighed, but then he perked up and started laughing. “Actually, I think they’ll be fine.” “Oh-” Gray absently grabbed a shrimp and began eating- “Good for them.” “Uhm, Gray…” “Hmm?” Gray grabbed another and chewed lazily, not realizing that Natsu might’ve been trying to warn him until he felt his lips and tongue burning with the heat of a thousand suns. He swallowed what was still in his mouth in one go, sending the burn down his throat now as well, and broke out in a violent coughing fit. The blazing heat spread through his entire body fast, setting his skin on fire and causing sweat drops to form on his face. Whose stupid idea was it to get the spiciest appetizer?! Oh, right, that would be him. God bless his icy drink. He gulped it all down, only half hearing Natsu’s rambunctious laughter.

“Who the hell deemed this safe for consumption?” he gasped, fanning at himself in a sorry attempt to cool down.

“Someone who's not an Ice Princess like you,” Natsu snickered, holding out a shirt that looked awfully familiar.

Damn it! How did that happen?!

Gray grabbed his shirt and put it back on before anyone could complain, calling on his magic to help cool himself down.

Natsu shook his head, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Pervert.”

“I can’t help it!”

“I know, Ice Block, I know.” Natsu finished the last of his drink and set it back down on the bar, his eyes straying back to the window for a full minute before peering back at Gray.

“Listen, I know this was a big part of your reward and everything, but do you mind if we take off?”

“You want to go back home?” Gray was crestfallen. He’d thought they were having a good time, outside of the unexpected drama.

“I didn’t say that, but it’s hard to sit still when I know that’s waiting for us,” Natsu said, pointing at the beach. “I’ll even pitch in since it’s my idea.”

Gray thought about it. This restaurant had been Loke’s idea and as far as he was concerned it had already served its purpose. If Natsu would rather go to the beach, then they’d do that. It was bound to be more fun. Plus, this way, if Natsu reacted badly to his confession, he wouldn’t have to worry about property damage.

As much.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, that was easier than I thought. That shrimp too much for you?” Natsu taunted.

Gray ignored him, focusing on finding the bartender so he could close their tab. Luckily, she was heading towards him. He was just about to address her when a voice spoke up next to him. “Hey there! Can I get two of the Magic Something drinks?”

“Yes, of course,” the bartender assured Sting. She turned to Gray. “I believe your table should be ready any minute. Would you like anything else?”

“No, thank you. We actually won’t be needing that reservation after all.”

“Alright then, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You’re leaving?” Rogue asked, appearing by Sting’s side. “But you haven’t even eaten yet.” “We passed a ton of food stalls on the way here,” Natsu said, already sounding excited by the prospect. “Besides, the food they serve here is too spicy for the Ice Princess.”

Gray glared, “Oy! That shrimp was the spiciest appetizer they had.”

Rogue rolled his eyes at the exchange, “You two sound like a married couple.”

"Well, you kinda look like one," Natsu laughed, pointing at the necklace Rogue was now wearing. A thin silver chain with a crystal pendant that was identical to the one dangling from Sting's ear.

"Oh, shut up," Rogue huffed, clutching the piece of jewelry as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than Natsu's hair.

“I’m glad things worked out,” Gray said, mostly to be polite. He winced as he heard people scream in panic as they witnessed Natsu drying off Sting’s clothing with his fire. He could almost hear the bartender rushing to the extinguisher. Why didn’t the idiot ever think?

Yeah, going to the beach was probably for the best.

"Me too." Rogue eyed the spectacle warily. "Sorry you got dragged into that."

“Yeah, it was… something.”

“He means well.” Rogue smiled apologetically, but his eyes were soft with affection. "Oh. That reminds me, can you thank Natsu for me? He was right."

“Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.”

Rogue snorted into his hand, looking less tired than he had when he'd just arrived. "Alright. Get Natsu out of here before-"

Whatever Rogue said after that became inaudible when the screams increased and were almost immediately joined by the loud hiss of the fire extinguisher.

At a loss for words, Gray and Rogue watched the chaos of scattering guests, the bartender frantically trying to extinguish the fire, Sting inhaling the massive gust of white powder blasted at him, and a loudly cheering Natsu.

"... Just get him out of here."

“Good plan.”

Gray hurried over to the two dragon slayers, not about to give Rogue another second to reconsider his life choices. He grabbed Natsu by the arm and pulled him back towards their seats so he could pay for their tab.

“It’s on the house, please just go!” The bartender waved him away, looking like she was on the brink of having a complete meltdown.

“Thank you.” Gray took out his jewel pouch and placed a large tip on the bar, wanting to make up for some of what they had put her through.

Natsu, oblivious as ever, thanked her and waved blithely even as Gray dragged him out of the lounge.

They had almost reached the exit when Natsu shook off Gray’s arm.

“I can walk on my own, you know.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

They left the restaurant and walked through the lobby in silence until Natsu started giggling.

“The look on the bartender’s face when Sting ate that powder!”

Now that the restaurant was safely behind them, Gray couldn’t help but join in. Soon they were laughing so hard they had to hold on to each other to keep from falling down, earning them curious but mostly annoyed looks from the other patrons.

[unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix]

Maybe In Another Life...

Summary: JJ is jealous of Andrew Mendoza because he has Emily and she doesn’t. Loosely from 15x07 "Rusty". Major spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet.

Jemily fic, but it’s a little bit of a sad one. I apologize in advance for breaking any hearts :(

Also big thanks to @bridget19 for beta-reading this!!

Read on AO3

Emily walked into her office and saw a bouquet of flowers on her desk. She saw a little red card in the bouquet and looked at the writing on it.

Thinking of you. - Andrew

Reaching for her phone in her bag, she saw her boyfriend’s name on the screen. Of course. She contemplated answering after four rings and sighed before tapping on the red circle to reject his call.

Emily didn’t know exactly where her relationship with Andrew Mendoza stood. This was a whole new experience for her because, sure, he’s a good guy, but is he really the one for her? She never did well in long-term relationships because of her trust and commitment issues. Emily always felt like someone could never love her enough to stay with her in the long run.

She sat down in her chair and heard a light knock at her office door. It was JJ giving her a bright smile and walking towards her desk.

“Morning,” the blonde greeted. “Another day, another dollar,” she sat on the armrest of the chair in front of it.

“Yep. Good old fashioned government dollar,” Emily joked.

“I can see Garcia hit up her favorite coffee truck on her way to work.”

“I had to cut her off,” Emily said. Garcia was more energetic than usual talking about the show they both watched, something about a blonde agent getting injured and professing her undying love to her female boss.

JJ smiled and nodded. “Wait, don’t you have a budget meeting this morning?”

Emily checked her watch. “Uh, yes, I do.”

JJ nodded again and drawled out, “Emily…”

The unit chief looked up and raised her eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“You buried the lead. Flowers?”

Emily hesitantly nodded.

“That Andrew Mendoza’s a keeper…” JJ teased.

“Mhmm,” Emily forced out a response as she stood from her chair, grabbing her black binder and phone for the FBI budget meeting.

“Can’t be late for that meeting,” she told the blonde as she made her way out of her office, tapping her shoulder with the binder.

“Mhmm,” JJ responded with a closed-mouth smile, watching Emily leave. She looked back at the flowers Andrew sent to Emily and her smile quickly faded away. JJ observed them with narrowed eyes, gripping the back of the chair a little tighter and harder than normal.

For a group of profilers, rarely anyone noticed JJ’s jealousy towards Andrew. When it came to the team’s love lives, she’d always smirked because it was just too fun to tease them about.

She reminded herself on many occasions that she had Will and her boys. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her family and has always made them one of her biggest priorities in life. But JJ also knew she would be a lot happier, if she shared her life with Emily Prentiss.

God, to be married to Emily Prentiss.

JJ smiled wistfully at the thought of being married to her. She would be so good with her sons. JJ knew Emily wanted to provide the maternal care she never had growing up, and imagined her giving that to Henry and Michael. Emily was also very loving and always listened to JJ’s problems, every rant and issue she had.

JJ knew Mendoza was a good guy. He’s good for Emily. The blonde bit her lip and stood from the armrest she was sitting on. She looked at the flowers again when she neared the door and took a slow deep breath, sighing. After a few more seconds, JJ left Emily’s office in sadness.

----------------------

The next day, the team was on the jet, going over the case with Garcia on video chat. The BAU had been called on another case and they had an unsub decapitating male victims and collecting their heads. They looked through their file folders for more details on their unsub’s victims, and all of a sudden, the tech analyst chimed in with a comment.

“Shut the front door. Andrew Mendoza signed this report.” Everyone’s heads shot up at her remark. “Andrew Mendoza is Prentiss’s boyfriend. He’s the head of the Denver field office?”

“Uh, yes,” Emily reluctantly replied. “He has been for the past, uh, two months. Um, his daughter and ex-wife moved to Colorado a year ago, and he'd been waiting for a transfer so he could be closer to Keely. She starts high school soon, so…”

Emily felt like she had just divulged a little too much to the team, and kept her mouth shut after receiving the awkward silence from them. She knew the case was in Denver, which was where Andrew was, but she wanted to keep her personal and work lives separate.

“But you guys are, um, you’re good?” Luke’s voice broke through.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all good,” Emily nodded. Well, it was a half-lie because she didn't know.

Spencer looked at JJ, then Emily, then back to JJ. He studied her facial expression go from surprise, jealousy, amusement, to heartbreak. He didn’t know if the others noticed, but he trained his eyes on her when Penelope had mentioned Andrew.

JJ had been shot by Everett Lynch’s daughter, Grace, about a month ago. While in the hospital, she had told Spencer the truth about her confession she made to the unsub who made her play truth or dare the week before: that she was really in love with Emily. JJ thought if she was about to die in that situation, she had already trusted Spencer enough to keep that secret. The younger co-worker figured it wasn’t meant for him once he saw how she kept glancing over at Emily at Rossi's wedding, especially when JJ paid extra attention to her during the twin flames speech.

JJ had her head down as she quietly scanned through the file again the entire time. She frowned and her eyes were filled with sadness and a hint of regret, Spencer noted. Practically rolling her eyes, JJ didn't bother listening to the team talking about Mendoza.

“JJ, Reid, check out the latest crime scene. Tara, Luke, go to the M.E.’s office,” Emily ordered.

JJ nodded her head towards Spencer, who nodded back. He noticed she masked her pain behind her eyes with a smile when she did. Maybe they’ll talk about it later.

----------------------

JJ and Spencer had just investigated the unsub’s latest victim’s house before concluding that they needed more evidence from eyewitnesses for information on his behavior. After asking a few people, the two drove their way back to the field office.

JJ was focused on the road in front of her and Spencer examined her body language. His friend was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. She bit the inside of her cheek, and her eyes narrowed while her brows furrowed.

“JJ,” Spencer broke the silence.

She turned her head to glance at him, “What?”

“Your grip on the steering wheel is tighter than normal and the tone of your voice sounded controlled when you answered me, like you were holding back on something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does this have to do with Emily and Mendoza?”

JJ rolled her eyes, still focused on the road. “If Emily’s with him, then good for her.”

“What about when Garcia brought him up when we were on the jet?”

The blonde agent had enough. She took a turn to the nearest vacant spot and parked the SUV near the curb. She turned the engine off and faced the younger man. JJ quickly clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Stop it, j- just stop. Please just… stop talking about Andrew, ok? I don’t want to talk about his relationship with Emily. I have to keep telling myself she’s happy with him and I have a life of my own now. So, I am begging you to stop,” JJ vented out to him. She felt tears pricking at her eyes towards the end of her rant.

“I was worried about you, JJ. I don’t like seeing my best friend hurt like this,” Spencer frowned as his eyes softened.

JJ shook her head to stop her tears from falling, but felt one single tear trail down. She bit her bottom lip, so she would not start sobbing.

“I- look, I’m sorry for snapping at you, Spence,” JJ sincerely apologized, rubbing her fingers in an attempt to soothe her worries. She knew he meant well and that he hates seeing her in pain, especially if it’s over the woman she loves. “It’s just that-”

JJ exhaled out another deep breath to compose herself. “There were flowers Andrew sent Emily, and I had to bring them over to her desk before she came in her office.”

The delivery man had arrived at the FBI building, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked around to see if there was anyone expecting them. He saw a blonde woman pass by and quickly caught her attention.

“Excuse me. Are you Emily Prentiss?” He read his clipboard to check the name.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I’m not her,” JJ shook her head and smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I got flowers for her from someone named Andrew Mendoza,” he gestured to the bouquet.

JJ froze for a second and she heard her heart shatter before responding with a polite smile, the one she used in her past liaison days. “I can leave them in her office, if that’s ok.”

“Thank you. Can you sign this for her?”

“Of course.”

After signing the clipboard and thanking the delivery man for Emily’s flowers, JJ took them and walked up to the brunette’s office. She held the flowers in her hands and frowned deeply. 'Things must be getting serious, then?' JJ wished she was the one bringing her flowers and not… him. She set the bouquet down on Emily's desk before leaving her office.

“What am I going to do?” JJ rested her forehead on the steering wheel, still gripping it. “Things seem to be going well with him and I don't think I'll ever make her that happy, not the way Andrew does. I really lost my chance with her 12 years ago,” she sighed in defeat.

“13 years, 1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, and 6 seconds, to be exact,” Spencer corrected her.

“Was I really that obvious?” JJ chuckled.

The doctor shrugged, “I’ve noticed you subconsciously having similar habits to Emily, like playing with your fingers and biting your lip when you’re nervous, or even dressing up similarly to her. You stare at her whenever she's not looking, for approximately 4.78 seconds. Your body seems less tense when you hear her voice, almost as if that’s the only thing that calms you down. Your pupils dilate and your cheeks turn red every time she gives you a compliment and-”

JJ cut him off with a laugh, "Ok, I think I get it."

"Oh," he quickly shut his mouth, not realizing he was rambling again.

“Spence?”

He looked at her.

“Thank you. For keeping this secret between us,” JJ said.

“It’s no problem. You are my best friend,” Spencer gave a small awkward nod.

JJ gratefully smiled at him and patted his shoulder before turning the engine on again to drive back to the field office.

----------------------

“Coffee?” JJ announced her and Spencer’s presence, holding cups for Luke and Tara. They gathered evidence that the unsub was dealing with alternate realities, and found themselves getting a little closer to finding him and what his motives are.

“Look, guys, we are banging our heads against a wall here,” Tara said. “I mean, Denver is littered with colleges, and we’ve already worked our way through most of the academics and scientists.”

“Well, you know what? We just need to take a step back and look at things differently,” JJ said. “The Mandela effect is a unique psychological construct, right? I mean, there’s got to be a good reason why he latched onto it in particular.”

“Well, creation of dissociative realities can often be a crutch for people who’ve suffered extreme trauma,” Spencer started with a fact that may be a clue to the unsub’s motive.

After a beat, Tara nodded and considered his statement, “Ok, let’s run with that. We’re looking for a loss triggered by an event likely caused by the unsub himself, and then this inability to accept this reality would be a defense mechanism for a mind racked with guilt.”

“So, unable to face reality, our unsub has created his own,” Luke connected.

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s killing fathers, though,” Spencer said after taking a sip of his coffee.

Luke shook his head and elaborated on the theory, “Unless it does. Say his own guilt is a major factor in a break like this. That would mean that he's picking out dads out of some kind of self-loathing.”

“This isn’t hatred towards his own dad,” JJ realized. “These men are surrogates for him. He’s angry at himself. Our unsub’s the father here.”

JJ recalled her colleagues’ words. She thought about the idea of parallel universes in that moment. Was she relating to the unsub? Had she subconsciously made an alternate reality where she and Emily were together because of her own guilt? It wasn’t the appropriate time to dwell on that thought, then again, when has she ever found the right time?

----------------------

The team had just finished solving the case, and were heading back to the hotel they were staying at. It was almost midnight and most of them were already in their hotel rooms. Emily had come back from visiting Mendoza and his daughter, Keely. JJ was in the hallway grabbing a small pack of Cheetos from a vending machine near her room.

Emily shook her head and smirked, Some things never change.

JJ was walking back to her room and smiled when she saw Emily, waving a hand at her. The younger woman decided it was the perfect time to talk to her since she wasn’t with Andrew.

She jogged up to the unit chief, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Uh, listen. I know it’s late right now, but… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Just you and me,” the blonde quietly offered, placing her free hand into her pocket.

Emily nodded, “I’d like that.”

JJ gave a soft nervous chuckle before the two women walked to the younger agent’s room. JJ opened the door and held it open for Emily to step inside.

She lightly scratched her head and pointed at a plastic bag on the table near the TV, “Um… the team went out for dinner and I might’ve saved you some food, since you weren’t there.”

“Heh, thanks,” Emily said, acknowledging JJ’s considerate action and sitting on her bed..

The younger woman sat next to her. It was an openly awkward silence between the two agents, which was rare because they usually found ways to entertain one another. After a little while, JJ broke the silence.

“So, parallel universes, huh?”

“Yep,” Emily chuckled.

“Do you believe in all that?”

“Hmm?”

JJ grew quiet, “That there are multiple universes that have several possibilities we don’t really think about often?”

The unit chief looked at her hands for a moment before responding, “Sometimes, yeah. Do you?”

JJ slowly nodded in agreement, “Sometimes.” She was wringing her hands, something she did when she was nervous and didn’t know how to put things into words. “You know when my mom came to town, she told me about imagined futures and projecting yourself in them. Like a movie about how your life would play out, if you had things your way and it got me thinking.”

“About?”

She contemplated on her next words and squinted her eyes at the floor, recalling a memory a little while back. “Emily, do you remember when you said something about twin flames at Krystall and Dave’s wedding? That sometimes, it takes a parallel universe for them to be together again?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you even remembered that,” Emily said.

JJ silently nodded and gently took Emily’s hand in hers, rubbing small circles with her thumb. The unit chief looked down at their hands and furrowed her brows in confusion.

JJ slowly licked her lips before making eye contact with her. It’s now or never. “Do you think maybe in another lifetime… you’d ever give us a shot? You know… together?”

Emily’s eyes widened, registering what she just heard, “JJ-“

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry I told you this, Emily,” JJ regretted and tried to stand up, but was stopped by a hand gently pulling her wrist.

“No, it’s not that. It’s-“ Emily gestured for her to sit down. “I just didn’t know you felt that way about me."

JJ shook her head, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know how to tell you this and I know it’s already too late.” She couldn’t stop the tears that were falling and she felt soft hands cup her face to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” the brunette soothed her nerves. “It’s ok, I got you.”

JJ leaned into Emily’s gentle caring touch. She raised her hands up to where Emily’s rested, and held onto them. “I- I talked to Spence the time I was shot and told him I was in love with you. I told him if things were different, I would have a chance with you. I sometimes think about how life would be if… we were together. I would’ve shared the boys with you, Emily. They love you and you love them. I would’ve loved being called your wife.”

JJ took a sharp intake of breath before letting out a bitter laugh and shaking her head, “You helped me through so much and came every time I needed you. You know, there were so many moments I kept wishing for something more, and it confused me because I didn’t realize how much happier I felt with you around.” She felt a salty tear trickle down her lips and sniffled, “I love you, Emily. And I’m sorry it took me years to say it out loud because I’m a coward.”

Emily listened to her and processed everything she just said. JJ really was in love with her all these years. It wasn’t just in her head. She was still silent and it made JJ want to run away in shame and guilt.

JJ’s eyes widened in fear as she rapidly blinked. She shook her head, mouth opening and closing as she tried to explain herself, “Emily, I- I-”

“Hey, breathe. Just breathe, ok, JJ?” Emily softened. She pressed their foreheads together to calm JJ’s nerves. “Just listen to my voice and look at me, ok? I’m here.”

JJ took deep breaths and listened to Emily while making eye contact with her through her eyelashes. The older woman wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders and pulled her close. “How about we lay down? Is that ok?” Emily suggested and JJ nodded.

The two scooted up to the pillows and Emily still held the younger woman close to her body. JJ felt herself relax in her warm and comforting embrace, eyes fluttering closed to take all of this in. Emily slowly rubbed big circles on JJ’s back and kissed her soft blonde hair.

After about two minutes, JJ lifted her head and blue eyes scanned Emily’s features. She raised her left hand to brush brown bangs away from her forehead. JJ silently asked Emily if it’s ok, and the unit chief nodded, knowing what her question was. The two always were best at silent communication with each other.

So, the blonde leaned closer and they both closed her eyes, listening to their nervous yet steady breaths. JJ closed the gap between them and their lips connected perfectly, like they were each other’s missing puzzle pieces the entire time. Emily tucked in a piece of hair behind JJ’s ear and brushed a thumb against her cheek.

Holding the back of her neck, JJ adjusted her body to straddle the brunette’s hips. Emily carefully sat up and cupped each side of her face. Both women thought the amount of passion in their kiss would make up for the time they’ve lost together. Tonight was the only time they really had the chance to be together, with no worry in the world. There was no Andrew, no Will, none of the members of the team or their troubled pasts. It was just JJ and Emily as lovers for tonight.

Emily reluctantly pulled away to rest their foreheads together, while JJ’s eyes were still closed and blindly chasing after her lips. The younger woman’s hand was still buried in dark hair as she slowly opened her eyes, licking her lips. She saw Emily’s pupils dilated from the almost heated kiss and chest heaving to regulate her breathing back to normal. Emily gave JJ a short and sweet kiss before JJ laid back down beside her.

“You know, I was kinda wishing we’d done more than just that,” Emily admitted quietly.

JJ nodded against her shoulder, “Me too. But we can’t.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” JJ said, her head now in the crook of Emily’s neck and sighing. “I wish I’d said something before.”

Emily bit her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling, “I wish I’d said something, too.”

“Maybe in another life…”

“Yeah," Emily softly said. She didn't need to hear the rest because she thought the same thing. Her hand made its way down to connect with JJ’s, squeezing it lightly to know that everything is going to be ok.

JJ glanced down at their joined hands and raised them up to her lips to kiss the older woman’s knuckles. “You know, I remember joking around with Spence one time that it was his and Penelope’s job to get Henry into Yale. I didn’t even realize you went to Yale. I guess I really was thinking about you the entire time, huh? I think I wanted Henry to follow in your footsteps.”

Emily raised her eyebrows in amusement, “Wow.” She blushed and looked down at their hands, hiding a small grin, “You really wanted Henry to be like me?”

“In a way, yeah,” the blonde agent nodded, running her thumb over Emily’s. “Well, maybe without the goth phase in high school…”

Emily playfully shoved her and JJ laughed. She cringed at that goddamn awful photo Garcia had pulled up once and teased her about, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

JJ shook her head, smiling, and Emily groaned.

“To be honest, I’ve always imagined us living in Charlottesville, for some reason,” JJ stared at the ceiling, getting lost in her thoughts. “Maybe when we retire, we’d find a nice, stable home for us and the kids, you know? I think I want a place to finally settle down and not worry so much about what we deal with on a daily basis. Maybe we’d actually see our kids grow up and not miss out on that. There’s some wineries and vineyards we could go to… and this really good restaurant I could show you sometime, if we ever have a day off. Some places we could hike, you know if you’re up for it…” she winked at her.

Emily nodded, “That sounds nice. As for the hiking, that’s a definite no.”

JJ softly laughed and kissed her cheek, sighing contentedly, “What about you? What’s your alternate reality?”

Emily smiled, “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather’s home in the French Alps? I always thought that once we retire from the BAU, we’d go up there after our kids graduate high school. I kinda thought about taking his place up there after he died. You know, just to get away from things. Maybe you could ski with the kids and I’d be inside making us some tea and hot chocolate. We’d gather around a little fire and, I don’t know, make some crafty things.”

JJ nodded and lifted her head to look at her, “You still haven’t answered my question earlier. Would you have considered it?”

Emily let out a chuckle and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, “I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“I love you, Emily. I want you to know that,” JJ whispered, leaning back up to kiss her again.

Emily smiled sadly as she responded with, “Always, blackbird. I will always love you, too.”

Tonight was just them, JJ and Emily, no one else. They can worry about the rest tomorrow. For now, this was their chance to be together. A thought crossed Emily’s mind as she remembered her own speech about twin flames:

Twin flames. Two souls that are always meant to be together. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something. But the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart. They are a magic unto themselves, and together, they light the way for all of us.

Now looking back at it, she remembered how her eyes kept darting back to JJ’s at the wedding. The way the ghost of a frown was on JJ’s face as she squeezed Will’s hand in reassurance, or how JJ snuck a little smile at Emily when she stood in between her husband and her long-lost lover. The following events when JJ was shot, Emily remembered how her heart rate increased on the monitor once she entered the hospital room to check up on her.

Was Emily so blind to realize that JJ loved her back? She had missed all those signs JJ had displayed over the years. They could have been together, if only both of them said something sooner.

This was their time, their time alone. This universe gave them this night together. Only in another life, would they be together for certain.