#…​than me half-sleepily typing an essay

[sunlightfeeling]

because drinking your props is, perhaps, a pretty shit idea 😇

Hero: Episode 1 (2001)

[shymorose]

GOOD EVENING DARLING ♡ part 1

author’s note: i sat on it for a few hours, this is my first exposure to this type of writing but i really likes it, enjoy reading! *kisses*

pairing: tom grant (character played by joseph quinn)

warnings: romance professor x student, nudity

summary: you have not been in contact with tom for a good few days but for what reason? did something happen?

Friday evening, you recently finished the last lectures, you are tired and a little annoyed.... Grant has not appeared at the university for several days, your relationship for several weeks has been very intimate, but he himself has not been gracious, but inform yourself what is the reason for his absence, after all, you are not together, it's just sex and you yourself know it very well, silly you, your head, can not stop sending you more memories of Mr. G, his rough hands on your soft naked body, moving up towards your firm breasts, squeezing them possessively, as if letting you know who they belong to and how much he loves your curves, every last bit, his face with a gallant smile going towards yours.... UGH ! FUCK HIM!!!

On the way to your apartment you look into the nearest grocery store to stock up on something for the evening. Yes some wine and a frozen pizza will soothe my nerves, you say to yourself in your mind. The lamp light illuminates the hallway and the small slick kitchen, you open the pizza and put it in the oven, it's time for wine. Yes, it's going to be a dreamy evening. In the next two hours you happen to devour 3 episodes of your favorite TV series, half the pizza and drink a few sips of wine, it doesn't taste as good as you might think, you feel the need to be with someone specific, but you're afraid to admit it to yourself, it's annoying! Stop immediately, you are thinking too much! You decide that a hot bath is one of the best options to relax and calm your nerves for the moment. You've been lying in the tub for a good hour, well not very helpful, but at least you've made an effort, the foam is slowly receding, but it still covers everything it should. Your head begins to droop sleepily, but the sound of the apartment door opening fully wakes you up.... I locked them after all, you think to yourself. If it's some murderer then I'm done for, you'd sooner fall into the dryer tub yourself than let yourself be touched. You hear the sound of shoes stepping on your panels. You try not to make any sound, but through your fine motor coordination you drop several bottles on the bathroom floor. You croak, it's over.... You see the knob on your bathroom door gently turn, the blood draining from your face, when suddenly you notice a very familiar face.

*MR. GRANT??!!!* He is dressed quite formally, a cream shirt, unbuttoned, showing slightly tanned skin, dark suit pants and smart shoes. Of course, he dresses similarly for university, but Friday night? Grant is not the type to party or club cat.... *GOOD EVENING DARLING, FOR YOU TOM, WE'VE ALREADY TALKED ABOUT THIS.... I DON'T WANT YOU TO TALK TO ME MISTER* he finishes, sweeping his gaze over you, he mirrors every visible part of your skin, you try to cover up as best you can, but every subsequent movement of your body makes the fragrant lather disappear. *HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?" he sighs, heading toward you and sits down on the edge of the tub. *FROM WHAT I REMEMBER, YOU GIVEN ME THE KEY HOW MUCH TWO WEEKS AGO? YOU KNOW IF WE HAD TO CONSULT THE TOPIC OF YOUR ESSAY* very audibly emphasizes the word essay, has a very sexual tone...stop! Oh you idiot!!! Of course you gave him the keys! This week has been so intense for you that it apparently fell out of your head.

Grant sees that you are thinking about something, he looks at you with big brown eyes while biting the lower lip of your pink perfectly carved lips.... OH MY GOD!!! *AND YOU RECOGNIZED...* he freezes you with his eyes *YOU RECOGNIZED THAT THIS WAS A GOOD TIME TO COME INTO MY APARTMENT IN COMPLETE SILENCE, WITHOUT TALKING FOR EXAMPLE I DON'T KNOW.... HEY ITS’S ME! GRANT!!! MAYBE IT WOULD BE LESS STRESSFUL FOR ME, I DON'T KNOW.... !!!!! YOU REALLY PRESTRESSED ME, YOU SHOULD NOT...* interrupts your speech by pressing his lips to yours. The kiss becomes intense, apparently he asks you to deepen it, but you push him away proudly, he is surprised, he didn't expect this. *O NO! YOU WILL NOT BLIND ME WITH THOSE OF YOURS.... THOSE YOU... ACTIONS!!! O NO!* an expression of surprise and a slight smile appears on his face. He loves it when you are so, so appealingly nervous.... Desiring an answer.... Desiring him.

He sighs *OH AND THAT'S WHAT IT'S ABOUT HMM? THAT'S WHY I WASN'T AT THE UNIVERSITY YES? WHY ARE YOU RIDICULOUS SWEETHEART?" she slides her thumb across your cheek *NO* you reply *NO? I THINK THIS IS THE REASON FOR YOUR NERVOUSNESS, REMEMBER I AM A SCHOLAR.... I KNOW SOME ELEMENTS OF HUMAN PSYCHIQUE* he replies with a gentle smile *I HAVE TO GO AWAY FOR A FEW DAYS TO MY PARENTS, DAD ASKED ME TO DO SOME ERRANDS FOR HIS SMALL BUSINESS AND MY MOTHER REALLY WANTED ME TO STAY A FEW MORE DAYS AND ALSO... * You interrupt him *YOU DON'T HAVE TO TOM, WE'RE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP, I HAVE NO PRETENSIONS FOR YOU* you turn your head, he gently grabs your chin with two fingers, pointing your face toward him *...AND ALSO, I CALLED YOU, MANY TIMES.....

[sleepingrenjun]

nervous | ML

the gorgeous banner was made by the one and only @hyuckiebabie

Genre ♡ angst, badboy!Mark Lee 

Length ♡ 16.9k

Pairing ♡ Mark Lee x reader

Warnings ♡ character death, violence, making out, mild swearing, mild alcohol consumption, kinda mafia, uhh shitty parents? Basically just angsty badboy!Mark, it’s rather tragic I do apologise.

Playlist ♡ nervous playlist

Summary ♡ You find yourself falling deeper and deeper into Mark’s fiery touch despite the dislike you once felt for him. But Mark Lee is dangerous and nefarious despite his gentle desire to love and protect you; the two of you are star-crossed and you will forever be damned into the very pits of hell.

-

Your clothes were beginning to stick to your skin, the rain blurring each and every neon sign into one big mess of colour against the onyx canopy of the sky above the city. The faint sound of cars screeching along distant streets could only just be heard over the music blaring through your earphones. You stumbled ever so slightly against the sudden outcry of wind as you rounded a corner and looked up through your lashes to see the refreshingly familiar street which housed your favourite late night coffee shop. You looked down again in order to give your cloudy eyes a break, eyeing your slightly scuffed, and now very soggy converse as you trudged a little further until you made it to the door of your beloved safe haven.

 You used your right shoulder to help you push the heavy door open, relieved to see that the lights were still on. You pulled your earphones out, shoving them into your tote bag unceremoniously.  

 “Oh hey, y/n,” you looked up to see Donghyuck smiling sleepily at you from his position behind the counter as he raised his golden hand in a small wave.

 “Hi Hyuck,” you threw a lopsided smile in his direction before carefully drying the soles of your shoes on the mat which lay before you.

 “It’s a little late for you, is everything okay?”

 “Yeah, yeah, I just got caught up with uni work, I guess,” you tell him as you take your phone out of your soaking wet hoodie pocket, before tapping on the screen, thus confirming that it was indeed later than you had realised, 10:53pm. He hummed in understanding as he continued to steam-clean the tea cups which sat on the polished granite in front of him.

 Donghyuck studied at the same university as you and so he understood that sometimes the workload would cause you to spend hours on end in the dusty, old university library situated on the top floor of the main building. His major was in English literature, and if he wasn’t in the coffee shop working then he could often be found studying with his nose buried deep in a coffee-stained book with his exhausted round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Donghyuck was lovely, in every sense of the word. His strawberry blonde hair looked gorgeous against his honey-stained skin. He was warm and flamboyant and just, quite simply, alluring. His raspberry-stained lips were soft and full, just as his cheeks were. Donghyuck was the type to wear tight black jeans paired with an eccentric, ill-fitting jumper and a pair of beaten up doc martens, yet he wore it so well.

 You weren’t exactly friends, but you had a sort of routine. You confided in eachother more often than you liked to admit, but only inside the safe environment of his workplace, you didn’t really speak at any other time. Every Thursday, without fail, you would stop by to order a latte from the lonely coffee shop that he worked at. You were studying fine art, which meant you had to spend a lot of time at the university, whether it was using the studios for various workshops, or losing yourself in copious amounts of books in the library in order to help you write extended essay after extended essay. With that said, it was usually between 7 and 8pm when you stopped by to order your coffee on your way home, hence Donghyucks concern.

 “The usual?” he spoke up after a moment of tranquility.

 “Mmm, please,” you hummed in response as you fiddled with the slippery metal of the rings on your fingers while you waited for the coffee you had been looking forward to for several hours prior. You took out your money and left the correct amount by the till and then proceeded to make your way quietly over to your usual round table before flopping down languidly, the table was situated by the window, allowing you to watch the world outside go by peacefully as you tapped your nails along the surface of your phone screen restlessly.

 The coffee shop was warm and cozy, the smell of coffee beans welcoming anyone into the glowing space. Your weekly visits were something that you looked forward to now, although you did sometimes make an appearance at other times, Saturdays, for example. Occasionally you popped in for a cup of tea in the morning and engaged in polite conversation with Taeyong, the owner of the place. Taeyong was delightful, in a different way to Donghyuck, though. He was sharper and had a witty sense of humour to match the bubblegum shade of his hair. He was kind and wise beyond his years and so much more – but you didn’t have the same unspoken understanding with him that you had with Hyuck. Perhaps that’s why you looked forward to Thursdays, Donghyuck understood you without even trying, as did you with him.

 Donghyuck slid the disposable cup onto the table in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

 “Thanks,” you smiled up at him before you realised that he was, in fact, now sitting opposite you at the table, with a coffee of his own in hand.

 “What’s on your mind, princess?” he asked you with a cheeky smile as he leaned back into the chair before sipping a little of his coffee. You chuckled at the nickname and hummed as you thought of how to reply.

 “I’m just exhausted, Hyuck,” you said as you let your head flop softly onto the rough wooden surface of the table before closing your eyes gently.

“Uni deadlines are exasperating; my parents are driving me mad and I just really need to sleep” you breathed out drowsily as you peered up at the boy through half closed eyes.

 “Yeah, I feel the same. Uni has me really stressed too,” he cupped his steaming coffee with both hands and leaned across the table, “what’s up with your parents, though?” he squinted at you, genuine curiosity adorning his friendly face.

 “Just the usual, you know,” you sighed after taking a long gulp of coffee, not feeling up to explaining everything to him at 11pm on a Thursday. Donghyuck vaguely knew about your relationship with your parents, if you could even call it that, although you liked to avoid bringing your friends into that side of your life; you weren’t proud of it.

 “Care to elaborate, princess?“ Your reply was soon cut off by the sound of the front door opening suddenly and the fierceness of the storm outside immediately filled the peaceful room, the sound of the ‘open’ sign hitting against the wall alerting you to the fact that you were no longer alone in the coffee shop.

 You looked up in surprise and proceeded to try to fix your composure at the realization that the person who had entered the premises was none other than Donghyucks best friend; Mark Lee. The two were polar opposites. While Donghyuck was late nights by a crackling fire and cups of steaming hot chocolate, lazy afternoons spent surrounded by blankets and makeshift pillow-forts and summer evenings spent reading during the golden hour. Mark Lee was everything that Donghyucks general aura protested against – he was burning hot embers and cigarettes, sunrises and motorbikes screeching along empty streets at 4am. Mark Lee was cold yet hotheaded and harsh and a lot to take in. You had only seen him from a distance, picking Donghyuck up from the university on the back of his bike. The two were so different but they were the best of friends and it baffled you.  

 “Hyuck, what the fuck is taking you so long? Let’s go-,” he voiced as he ran his hand through his damp hair and shook his head a little, completely ignoring your presence. He was clearly irked about something, his eyes were dark, black almost, and he was clutching his bike helmet under his arm tightly. Hyuck looked across the room to the vintage clock which was perched just above the coffee machine behind the counter, before muttering a profanity to himself and looking up at you with apologetic eyes.

 “Shit sorry y/n, I completely forgot, I was meant to close up 10 minutes ago,” it was nearing 11:15pm now.

 “Oh yeah, it’s fine, I should probably get back home anyways” you offered in acceptance before tearing your eyes away from the two boys in front of you to look out of the window at the storm you would have to brave once more. Mark cleared his throat as he made eye contact with you for the first time,

 “are you two done now or…?”

 Mark opened the door, a subtle hint that he was leaving and that Donghyuck should hurry up if he wanted to accompany him to wherever the two were off to at this hour. You scoffed as you took in his appearance, his damp, jet black hair was falling into his eyes in soft curls, his tanned skin was wet, and the neon yellow hoodie he wore under his signature leather jacket had darkened by at least two shades from the rain, as had the black skinny jeans which were tightly clinging to his legs.

 “Will you be okay to get home?” Hyuck asked you as he turned off the coffee machine and motioned towards the door with a light tilt of his head. You nodded and replied with a “yeah” as you swiftly picked up your takeaway coffee cup and headed out the door which mark hadn’t managed to hold open for you. Hyuck followed you out after turning the lights off and grabbing his own helmet, locking the doors behind you. You nodded towards Donghyuck, turning away from the boys you clutched your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you walked in the direction of your shared apartment.

 “See you, y/n.”

 You turned your head and waved in return at Donghyuck who was smiling at you as he put his jet-black helmet on whilst he leaned on the back of Marks motorcycle. Mark offered you a smirk as he took a long drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and putting out the glowing stick with a swift movement of his foot, his tattered black converse catching your eye. You continued forward in the torrential rain and not a minute later you could hear the revving of the engine as Mark and Donghyuck pulled away and sped past you, Mark deliberately not avoiding the growing pool of floodwater on the street next to you, splashing dirty water at you in the process. “Fucking fantastic,” you groaned in exasperation.

 -

 It was the following Tuesday when you next saw Donghyuck with his best friend in tow. You were packing up your things after a long day in the library, sneezing and sniffling every so often; you had managed to catch a rather bad cold after walking home in the pouring rain last Thursday. You had just turned around after placing your last book in your beaten-up bag when you heard Donghyucks contagious laughter coming from your left, he and Mark were walking towards you and away from a small group of three boys you often saw Hyuck hanging around with between classes, you weren’t sure of their names. Mark was once again holding on tightly to his helmet as he mumbled something to the velvety boy beside him and ran his other hand through his disheveled hair.

 You fished your phone out of your pocket and turned it off airplane mode before stuffing it back into your pocket and looking up, just in time to hear your name being spoken from a few feet away.

 “Hey! y/n!”, Donghyuck exclaimed, looking surprised to see you, “you got home okay then? On Thursday?” he queried, stopping before you, causing Mark to roll his eyes at his friends genuine concern.

 “Yeah thanks, Hyuck. What are you guys doing here?” you chuckled in reply, it wasn’t unusual for you to greet him in the library as you both spent a fair bit of time there, Marks appearance, however, was a little less common.

 He was obviously there to pick Donghyuck up, probably just to take him home or to a party or something; what was unusual was that he didn’t usually come inside. If you ever saw him at the university, he would be leaning against the outside wall, by the doors, often holding a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He was a couple of years older than you, only a year older than Donghyuck, and although you knew that he had graduated from the same institution that you attended, you didn’t know what his major was, not that you particularly cared. Your train of thought was interrupted by Donghyucks reply,

 “Oh, Mark just needed to talk to Jaemin about something,” he gestured towards his friend, who was clearly already bored with your conversation.

 Just as you were about to speak, your phone started ringing. You took a deep breath once you saw the caller ID, before picking it up and holding it to your ear.

 “Dad?” you breathed out, his timing could not have been worse. You had a complicated relationship with your parents; your father was controlling to say the least, and it frustrated you to no end.

 “So, you finally decided to pick up the phone then?”, he greeted you harshly. “I’m sorry, I’m in the library, my phone was off,” you offered him an apology, hoping it would suffice. You looked down at your shoes and wrapped your free hand around your waist, turning away from the two boys who were waiting patiently before you, hoping to gain some privacy for what would most likely not be an enjoyable conversation with your father.

 “You’re always sorry, it’s not good enough y/n,” he complained, “anyway, I called because I need to ask a favour from you.” He only ever called you when he needed something, and he certainly wasn’t one for pleasantries, he always found a way to try and make you feel bad about yourself – although you’d grown a sort of immunity to it now that you knew what he was trying to do. You remained silent, signaling for him to go on, “your mother and I are hosting a dinner party tonight” you place your hand on the back of the chair in front of you, “and we expect you to attend, can you be at the hotel for 7pm?”

 Your grip on the chair tightened to the point that your knuckles were beginning to turn white, you looked at your watch and groaned softly so that he wouldn’t hear, it was already 6:47pm. “Dad I don’t think-“ you started, knowing perfectly well that you wouldn’t be there on time – it was nearly a 40 minute walk to your parents’ hotel from the library.

 “Great! See you then, don’t be late!” he cut you off, not allowing you the time to tell him that you wouldn’t make it for 7 before he ended the call. “Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed as you let your iron grip on the chair go, moving the same hand to push your hair out of your face.

 “Is everything okay?” you turned around to see Donghyuck and Mark both staring at you in confusion.

 Your parents frustrated you a lot. They could never be bothered to make time for you but the second they had the opportunity to use you to their advantage, they would milk it. Your father loved to patronize you and put you down while your mother loved to brag about all the wonderful things you were supposedly doing, she loved to make you sound like their perfect child, when really, they were nothing but disappointed in you. They were disappointed in your art major and disappointed that you chose not to intern at your fathers’ company – you wanted as little to do with his illegal activities as possible - so disappointed that they actually felt the need to lie about practically everything you did.

 “Oh, yeah I just-,” you paused, trying to clear your head and come up with a way of fixing the mess you were about to get into, “sorry but I have to go, I have to be somewhere in like 10 minutes and it’s a 40 minute walk so-,” you rushed out, panicking as you grabbed your bag, flung it over your shoulder and proceeded to walk quickly down the hall towards the staircase. You didn’t make it very far however, as Donghyuck managed to grab your wrist and turn you around.

 “Hey, wait!” he exhaled deeply, “do you need a lift? Mark can give you a lift, right?” he suggested, turning to his friend in question.

 Mark looked as horrified as you felt at the thought of being perched on the back of his bike, “yeah, not happening,” he exclaimed, “she doesn’t even have a helmet or anything-” Donghyuck cut him off by thrusting his own helmet into your arms unceremoniously “now she does!” he retorted cheekily, throwing a smug smile in Marks direction.

 “No, Hyuck really-” you started, the idea of being in such close proximity to the stranger not sitting right in your stomach.

 “Donghyuck, what the fuck?” Mark exclaimed in obvious annoyance at the lively boy who had seemingly already made the decision for you both as he sauntered off down the hall, leaving you alone with his best friend.

 -

 Mark didn’t speak to you as you made your way down the stairs side by side. You felt your heartbeat speed up as you walked through the automatic doors and saw the back of his motorcycle come into view. The model was sleek and rather elegant, the matte black of the main body suited Marks nefarious persona perfectly and the egg-yolk yellow accents made it all the more beautifully daunting.

 “Ever ridden a bike before?” Mark exhaled at you, already knowing the answer to his foolish question.

 You shook your head, “I haven’t. But you already knew that”.

 Mark nodded his head in response before putting his helmet on and climbing onto the bike in front of you. You mirrored his actions and secured Donghyucks helmet into place with shaky hands; the jet-black helmet was a little big for you, but you managed to fight against the strap until it was tight enough that you felt somewhat protected. You shuffled into the small space behind Mark and had barely just lifted your feet off the ground when he revved the engine and kicked off, sending you surging forward into his firm back in order to not fall off.

 Mark snickered at your immediate reaction, “you might want to hold on, sweetheart,” he told you in amusement as he turned his head towards you slightly. “I’m gonna need directions,” he announced as he turned back to the road and pulled out of the university car park, the sudden acceleration encouraging you to grab onto his shoulders firmly in an attempt to balance yourself.

 “Yeah, okay. Continue down here for a bit and then take a left just before the gym.” You instructed as you assessed the road before you.

 “Alright,” he responded casually, veering off to the right to overtake a car, causing you to stiffen even more.

 Sitting on the back of Marks bike was rather unnerving, but it was also thrilling and rather freeing. You could feel the wind in your hair and you were able to let yourself go a little. You closed your eyes for a moment and embraced the carelessness you felt bubbling up in your stomach; if your parents ever found out that you’d been on the back of a boys motorbike they would be livid, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You leant forward and informed Mark about the next turn he needed to make, to which he responded with an okay and as if sensing your sudden carefree nature, he applied a sudden pump of pressure on the gas and sped up even more. He was trying to scare you, to irritate you, and it was working. The wind in your hair suddenly felt too cold, too loud, and the traffic surrounding you too fast.

 “Mark,” you warned him as you moved your hands from his shoulders to wrap them tightly around his waist. “Hey, slow down!” you shouted in his ear once you realised that he wasn’t letting up.

 “Relax, baby. You’re alright,” he chuckled over his shoulder, sounding completely unbothered.

 You tightened your grip around him and closed your eyes as you tried to calm down, no longer finding the experience enjoyable. You could feel the soft flesh of his toned stomach through his shirt; the vibrations of Marks laughter as he felt your grip tighten and your forehead press softly into his shoulder. He was warm and deadly and you could feel your hot blood rushing through your veins. You breathed him in slowly; his aroma was cigarette smoke and peppermint; his shirt stained with the faint scent of his cologne and cinnamon. You hated to admit it, but Mark Lee smelled heavenly despite being the embodiment of Hades himself, and it was intoxicating.

 “Sweetheart, you need to look so you can direct me,” he said blatantly, you opened your eyes briefly before closing them again with a shake of your head.

“Take the next right and then pull up on the left just before the hotel,” you breathed out.

 Mark was soon slowing to a halt and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. “Thank fuck that’s over” you exclaimed before releasing your grip around the devilish boy in front of you, feeling slightly embarrassed that you’d been holding him so tightly. You swiftly removed your helmet and thrust it into Marks arms with a mumbled thank you before turning on your heel and heading towards the front door of the building. You faintly heard Mark calling your name, but you weren’t really listening as when you reached the door you felt your stomach drop, your dad was waiting for you and he was furious.

 Ten minutes later, you were seated next to your mother and opposite to your father, you were trying to settle the growing pit of nerves in your stomach as you knew you would be confronted by your dad soon enough. Around an hour into the meal, one of your parents’ guests decided to ask your mum about how you were getting on at uni, they were trying to make polite conversation, although your mothers response irked you rather.

 “She’s doing great! She’s loving her classes, aren’t you honey?” she directed at you with a knowing look in her eye. You simply nodded and replied a polite “yes, it’s great.”

 The same guest then went on to ask what it was you were studying, to which your parents simultaneously responded with ‘law’, as if rehearsed, which it most likely was. You knew your parents had never been happy with your decision to study fine art, and you couldn’t say you were surprised to hear that they were lying about your major, but it pissed you off, nevertheless. You clenched a fist underneath the table as they continued to brag about how well you were supposedly doing at law school. The evening continued like that for the next hour; your parents telling their ‘business partners’ about all the achievements you had made and how proud of you they were. Your family was built on a mound of lies.

 You knew that they were careful about what they told you about their business, but you were alert enough to be aware of the fact that the deals they made were not what might be expected of a typical hotel chain. They lied in front of you to try and cover the illegal activity that was going on, and while you weren’t entirely sure what that involved, you had an idea.

 Your parents walked with you to the entrance of the hotel when the dreadful dinner party was over, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

 “You’ll never guess how our y/n arrived here earlier, love.” Your dad gestured to you while speaking to your mum.

 You looked down at your feet and fiddled with the hem of your jumper in anticipation. Your dad was business suits and stainless steel while your mother was sterile surfaces and fake smiles and you hated it, you hated them and the stupid lifestyle they had dragged you into. Nothing about it was real, nothing about it was fair.

 “She arrived on the back of a boy’s motorcycle,” he informed her with disgust evident in the tone of his voice, his facial expression unsettlingly straight. Your mother gasped in horror and you had to hold back from rolling your eyes at her dramatic reaction. “y/n what the hell were you thinking?” she asked you with a raised voice, anger evident.

 “I needed a ride, it’s a forty-minute walk otherwise!” you responded honestly. You weren’t going to let them manipulate you into apologizing to them.

 “Imagine what the guests would have thought if they’d seen you arrive in such a bedraggled way!” she screeched at you, to which you just responded with a shrug; not having the energy to argue with her.

 “You will reply when your mother addresses you, y/n.” Your father seethed through his teeth at you, anger taking over his stout features. You turned away from them in an attempt at getting away from their suffocating presence, talking back to them was not going to get you anywhere. But before you could walk through the now half open door, he grabbed onto your wrist harshly, “if you pull another stunt like this, there will be consequences, y/n, and stay away from that boy, he’s bad news.” He spat the coarse words into your left ear no louder than a whisper.

 You could feel your eyes beginning to water a little, “don’t touch me.” You breathed bitterly before yanking your wrist out of his forceful grip and slamming the glass door behind you.

 You finally let yourself go once you were outside, the tears flowing freely and silently down your cheeks. You were tired, exhausted even, of trying to mask how much their actions hurt you. Nobody at your university had a clue, not your roommate, Lisa, none of your art class acquaintances, not even Donghyuck, who you often found yourself confiding in when things got a bit too much and you found yourself on the verge of a breakdown.

 You were looking forward to getting home, your apartment was cozy and warm and just what you needed after dealing with your exasperating family. Your parents had bought you a 2 bed flat on the top floor of a crumbling apartment building, which you had the pleasure of choosing. After being brought up in a mansion-like house that didn’t even look lived in, you opted for something small and homely so that you weren’t rattling around in it. Two weeks after moving in, it still felt a little empty to you and so you advertised for a roommate – that was when Lisa came into your life. The two of you had your differences but you loved each other, you supposed she was probably your best friend, not that you were one to give people titles. Lisa was away on a two-week trip to Florence with a few of the people from her major, meaning you had the place to yourself; you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

 “Dinner party went well then?”

 You turned around and were met with the sight of Mark leaning against the wall next to the door of the hotel, he was somewhat hidden from view, his dark clothes melting in to the ebony of the sky. He held a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his left hand, he took a long, slow drag before plucking it from his lips with his free hand and blowing the smoke in your direction.

 You stifled a cough and rolled your eyes at his actions before continuing in the direction of your apartment, “why are you still here, Mark?” you asked him as you lifted a hand to wipe the tears away from your rosy cheeks, curious as to why he’d hung around for you.

“I thought you’d want a ride home,” he shrugged as he caught up with you, lifting the cigarette again and this time leaving it hanging from his pink lips, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

 “The last thing I need is for my parents to see me on the back of your fucking bike, again.”

 Mark chuckled dryly in response, “did your dad give you a hard time?” he cooed, clearly finding your upset state funny. When you didn’t show any signs of amusement, his cheeky smile turned into something more sincere.

 “I heard what they said to you, you know,” he gave you a pitiful look, “I’m sorry that they treat you like that.”

 You raised your eyebrows and bit back a laugh, “cut the crap, Mark.” He looked a little taken-aback by your curt response, giving you a questioning look as he slowed to a stop beside you. “Don’t act like you suddenly care,” you sighed at his obliviousness, turning to face him.

 Mark Lee was not known for his kindness, caring nature. He was known for being cold and troublesome, he was like a snake; constantly shedding his skin and becoming a different version of himself. One minute he was dangerous and sinful and all things devilish and red, yet the next, he was soft like the feathery wings of an angel with kind eyes; and it was impossible to tell which version of himself he would present to you each time you met.

 You looked at him, really looked at him and took in his appearance. His soft dark hair was falling in his eyes with a slight parting in the middle, his sun-kissed skin rich and deep under the soft, golden light of the street lights you were bathing in. Your gaze fell to his cherry-stained lips and to the glowing stick he held between them, soft clouds of smoke occasionally leaving his lips as he exhaled. The heartbreaking truth was that Mark was attractive, you found him attractive and you didn’t know how to stop the way your breath hitched when you looked into his dark eyes. He was looking at you, observing you in the same way you had been observing him, and it was unnerving. His eyes flitted between your own and your lips briefly before he pulled his gaze away from you and towards the now-familiar motorbike which was sat just a few feet away from where you were stood.

 “Come on, let me take you home.”

 You didn’t talk to Mark as he drove you home aside from directing him to your apartment, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. You were exhausted, and you found yourself feeling a little numb as you clutched Marks waist tightly and pressed a cheek into his back as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to think about your father seeing you on the back of Marks bike. If he saw you, then so be it. You were utterly sick to your stomach of the way they pried and warped you into what they thought was the perfect child, the child that their fellow businessmen and women would want to hear about. They objectified you and they underestimated you and it royally pissed you off.

 You found yourself almost enjoying the feeling of betraying them, perhaps you’d take it up as a hobby. Perhaps you’d befriend Mark just to get under their skin, you’d undoubtedly relish in that feeling if you were a little more like the boy who you currently had wrapped in your tight embrace. But you weren’t like that, you were good and caring and you had so much love to give yet nobody to give it to. You couldn’t intentionally play someone like that, it wasn’t within your capability, nor was it your true desire. You didn’t want to use Mark, no matter how perfect it would be or how much it would irritate your parents. So, you pushed your delirious thoughts aside and tightened your hold on Mark as if to thank him for not asking too many questions or rubbing in your ill-fated situation. In response you felt a tight squeeze on your left thigh as he reached back to comfort you subtly, and that was all that was needed for you to begin to feel a little better.

 Mark pulled up outside your apartment building after what felt like forever. You heaved your heavy body off the padded seat behind him, your worn shoes scuffing against the edge of the pavement as you did so, causing you to stumble forward briefly before a strong hand gripped at your waist and pulled you back. You turned around at the sudden feeling of Marks arm wrapping around you, only to notice that you were standing a lot closer to the raven-haired boy than you’d anticipated. He had leaned off his bike a little in order to reach you and you now found yourself brushing up against his jean clad thigh.

 “Easy there, princess,” you could feel his hot breath on your cotton-candy stained cheeks and you struggled to appropriately place your gaze. You’d never been this close to him, face to face anyway, and you found it unsurprisingly intimidating. You observed and noticed his perfectly placed eyebrow piercing, the two silver balls gleaming even in the dark of the night. Marks eyes were deep and dark, black almost, a heavenly contrast to his honey-stained skin. They were half lidded and verging on sultry as he blinked and brought his eyes to meet with yours, his tongue briefly darting out to wet his lips before he gently brought the hand which wasn’t wrapped around your waist up to eye level. He hesitated briefly before he lifted his hand and started to unfasten the strap on the helmet you had borrowed from Donghyuck, “here, let me get that-”.

 Your breath caught in your throat as his hand brushed against your soft skin, the rough texture of his calloused hands contradicting your own smooth, milky complexion. You looked into his eyes as they were concentrated on removing the heavy helmet; he looked so innocent like this, so pure and refined. It was almost like the fire inside him had been dampened momentarily and the ice around his heart was beginning to melt, of course that wouldn’t last. You knew that the next time you saw him, it would be like this hadn’t happened. He would go back to smirking at you or blanking you entirely. It would have been a moment of utter serenity if it weren’t for your caged heart beating at ninety to the dozen inside your chest. You were nervous. Mark made you nervous.

 Once he’d lifted the helmet off, he realised he was still holding you and quickly moved his hand from your waist to rub the back of his neck, you became suddenly all too aware of your close proximity and took a small step back, clearing your throat and crossing your arms in the process. He roughly planted said helmet into your arms with an “I’ll see you around” before he kicked off and left you standing by the side of the road, looking a little flustered.

 Needless to say, the second your head hit your pillow that night, you were out like a light.

 -

 You entered the coffee shop two days later, Thursday, at your normal time of 7:15pm. Only this time you had more of a purpose; you, of course, were looking forward to your latte, but you had also brought Donghyucks helmet since Mark had left it with you.

 “Donghyuck!” you greeted the familiar face as you made your way towards his position behind the counter. “Here” you lifted the heavy black helmet onto the counter for him to take. He thanked you as he took it from you and went to put it in the back room.

You took the chance to look around the room, noticing a few familiar faces, mostly students huddled over their laptops or buried in a pile of dog-eared books. You spotted your usual round table and smiled at the site of the empty chair sat by it. You would soon be just like most of the other customers in the coffee shop, head down and engulfed in a heap of Gustav Klimt books, your chosen artist for this semester.

 “Hey, have you seen Mark around?” you were brought out of your thoughts by the return of the radiant boy in front of you, who was now busying himself with making your coffee.

 “Not since Tuesday, why?”

 “I haven’t seen him since then either, he normally drops me off for my shift today, but he didn’t show,” he replied sounding a little concerned for his troublesome friend. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” you hummed in response.

 You thanked Donghyuck with a warm smile as you paid him for your coffee before taking it over to your table and getting your notebook and a couple of books out of your scruffy bag. The next hour went by relatively quickly, you alternated between writing notes and actually annotating the books in front of you; you had a bad habit of defacing books. Whether it was folding pages or actually drawing on the pristine pages, you enjoyed making them look used and a little haggard.

 You had been so engrossed in your work that you hadn’t noticed Mark’s brief appearance in the cozy coffee shop, he was only present for about 30 seconds before Donghyuck excused himself and stepped outside to talk to his friend. You had your head down when you left through the heavy doors, you weren’t listening as they hushed their conversation at the sight of you, and you didn’t notice when Mark, who was sporting a bruised cheek and a bloody lip, cast his gaze over to you from behind his friends’ shoulder.

 You were living in your head as you walked home that evening, thinking up your future, where you wanted to live, and what you wanted to be doing. You’d just decided that you liked the idea of settling in Paris or somewhere similar when you felt the first sign of rain hit your cheek. You cursed to yourself as you pulled your hood up over your head in an attempt to shelter yourself from the inevitable downpour. You were never prepared when it rained, you usually just wore a hoodie and jeans to uni and you had never got into the habit of carrying a jacket or an umbrella around, you should probably change that, though; it rained a lot in your city.

 Not even two minutes after the rain started, you heard the screeching of tires on the wet road as a familiar looking bike skidded to a stop alongside where you were walking.

 “y/n get on!” Mark yelled over the deafening downpour surrounding you, taking his helmet off as you jogged over to him.

 You weren’t sure why you decided to listen to him, especially after he tried to scare you the last time. Perhaps it was because you knew you’d be home in a fraction of the time if he took you, walking would be at least another twenty minutes. Or maybe part of you actually liked the idea; somewhere deep down in the burning embers of your soul, you quite enjoyed the cryptic boys’ presence. He was everything you had stayed away from up until now, and although you would never admit it aloud, you found yourself reveling in the risk of it all.

 You tried to refuse his helmet, saying that he needed it more, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Just put the damn thing on,” he argued, only moving off once you were sat behind him with his helmet sat snugly on your head.

 Your arms curled around him in the same way you had recently become accustomed to. He was soaked through to the bone and cold, so cold, it seemed Mark wasn’t one for dressing according to the weather either. While you were at least wearing a hoodie, he was only wearing a t-shirt, a white one at that. His muscular back suddenly became painstakingly obvious through his soaked shirt and you tried to focus on the road ahead as you rested your chin on his left shoulder.

 Not even 10 minutes later, you had arrived at your apartment building.

 You jumped off the bike as soon as it had stopped moving, keen to get inside and rid yourself of your drenched clothes as soon as possible; a hot shower sounded absolutely wonderful right now. You expressed your thanks and looked up at Mark to return his helmet to him once you’d wrestled to get your wet hair untangled from the strap, only to see that he had his head hung low and turned away from you.

 “Hey, Mark?” he hummed in response, seeming somewhat distracted. “You good?”

 “Huh? Yeah, I should really go-”

 “Why won’t you look at me?” you hesitantly reach across and hear a sharp intake of breath from him when you grip at his jaw, turning his head to face you for the first time that night. Your breathing faltered at the sight of his black and blue cheekbone and your eyes scanned the rest of his face to discover that his lip was also rather swollen and coated with dry blood.

 “Mark…” you whispered as you ghosted your hand over the tender skin, blinking down at him as his hand gripped at your wrist.

 “It’s fine, y/n,” he gritted his teeth, still not looking up at you.

 “Who did this to you?” you thumbed at his puffy lip gently, the question more rhetorical than anything else.  

 You had never seen the boy before you look so worn out. In fact, you weren’t sure if you had ever witnessed someone being hurt like this before. You blinked twice and moved your hand away from him in order to brush your own disheveled hair out of your eyelashes as you realised that the rain was only becoming heavier.

 “Come inside,” you said unexpectedly, surprising both yourself and the bloodied boy sat before you. You tugged at his sleeve, “just let me help you, as a thank you of sorts”.

 “I really shouldn’t, I-,” you didn’t let him finish, you instead found yourself dragging him away from his beloved black and yellow bike and into shelter.

 He followed you up the stairs until you were on the top floor, you had your key in one hand and his bike helmet in the other. He didn’t speak as you walked up the five flights of stairs, the only sounds were your sopping wet shoes squelching each time you took a step and the shaky breathing coming from the pair of you.

 You stepped into your small apartment with Mark in tow, switching on the lights as soon as you were in the door. You placed your stuff down alongside Marks helmet on the long wooden coffee table in your little living room before disappearing into Lisa’s room to find something for Mark to change out of his wet clothes into. When you walked back into the living room, he was still standing there, hands clasped together and rocking back and forth on his toes lightly.

 “Here, I think this stuff should fit you.”

 Lisa sometimes had boys over, usually they were just one-off flings but sometimes they’d come often enough that she had managed to accumulate a growing pile of their clothes. You’d found a pair of loose black shorts and a large light-grey hoodie that looked around Marks size.

 You directed him to the bathroom so he could change, before turning to your own room and stripping off your drenched clothes, changing into a pair of sweats and a loose fitting shirt as quickly as you could. You grabbed some wet cotton wool and a bag of frozen peas to help take down the swelling, you didn’t have a first aid kit in your apartment, so this would have to suffice. You found Mark sitting on your sofa when you returned, his head leaning on one of his hands whilst he texted someone on his phone with the other. He heard your fluffy sock-clad feed padding against the hard wood floor as you neared him, looking up and instantly turning his phone off and placing it next to him once he realised you had reappeared.

 You knelt down in front of him, placing the frozen bag on the floor beside you and turning your attention to the injured boy.

 “Stay still,” you could feel Marks eyes following your every move. You dabbed at his wounded lip, trying to help take the edge off the sting he must be feeling. You steadied yourself by placing your free hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn his attention to you rather than whatever he found so interesting behind you.

 “Where’d you get the clothes from?” he gestured to the hoodie he was now wearing.

 “Oh, they’re from Lisa’s- my roommate’s ex, I think,” he nodded at your reply.

 “Don’t move,” you whispered as you held his head still and wiped away the remainder of the blood. “It’s not like they’d be from my ex, given that I don’t have one. Or a current boyfriend, for that matter.” Your weak attempt at a joke fell flat as you suddenly realised the implications of what you had just said. Your eyes grew wide, “that was stupid, I don’t know why I said that. I just-”

 Your ramblings were cut short when Mark gripped your arm and took the bloody cotton wool from your hand, dropping it to the floor while keeping his half-lidded gaze on you. He moved your hand to hover just above his heart, resting it there. You kept your eyes on his hand as it covered yours, not daring to look up at him for fear that you may crumble. You felt like putty in his hands and all he was doing was touching your hand. Your face flushed as your hands began to tremble subtly.

 “Do you feel that?” you did. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, just as yours was. “Baby?”

 You dragged your eyes up to meet his and nodded delicately as you let yourself tug at his hoodie a bit, trying to cease the nerves rising up from the pit of your stomach to the very tips of your fingers. Mark lowered his head until his forehead was brushing against yours from his elevated position on the sofa. You could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke coming from his lips, which were now barely three inches from yours.

“What are you-,” he rubbed his nose against yours and murmured a barely-there “shh,” as his eyes fluttered shut.

 Mark pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips and moved his soft grip from your hand to angle your face up towards him, bringing his other hand up to cup your jaw before moving to plant a slow peck on your plump lips. “y/n?” you hummed when he pulled back a couple of inches, keeping your eyes closed. You didn’t want him to stop and you hated yourself for it. You tugged at his hoodie again, hoping he would understand your signal for him to continue. You didn’t have confidence in words, opting to not say anything and instead moving your left hand up further to reach the nape of his neck, pulling him into you.

 The feeling of having another’s lips pressed against yours was unfamiliar and yet, strangely addictive. Your breathing was getting heavier in sync with his as he left long, drawn out kisses on your lips, alternating between your bottom lip and your top. You found the angle was getting a little awkward and so, with the help of Mark, you sat up on your knees, only staying like that for a moment before you found yourself situated on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

He barely paused for breath before capturing your lips again, this time prodding at your entrance with his slick tongue. The sensation was effortless with him, your lips slotting together over and over again with such ease and precision. His tongue massaged against yours as he relocated his calloused hands to rest around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh as your shirt rode up slightly.

 You let out a soft whimper as his cold hands touched your hot skin and you threaded your fingers through the damp locks of hair at the back of his head, your other hand clenching and unclenching, taking fistfuls of his hoodie as you tried to make the feelings in your chest evaporate. The air was hot and sticky, and you gasped into each-others open mouths, you couldn’t get enough of him.

 Kissing Mark Lee made you feel more alive than you had ever thought possible, it was both heavenly and sinful, and he took all your breath away as if it was nothing. He tasted sweet and smoky and he was enthralling for he was the devils incarnate, yet the most celestial being you had ever laid eyes on. You hated him, you wanted to hate him. But he was radiant and god-like and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, for Mark Lee was magnetic and you will forever be drawn to his sacrilegious self.

 You were panting and breathless as you took his lower lip between your teeth and looked into his amorous eyes, but he winced, and you found yourself pulling away from his swollen lips as a coppery taste lathered your tongue. You were flush against him; your immediate proximity making you blush, given the circumstances. “Sorry, I forgot- about your lip I mean,” you stammered out, feeling rather flustered.

 “I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Mark leant forward to press his lips to yours again messily as he dragged his hands along your thighs, he couldn’t seem to sit still.

 “Mark,” you tried to pull away again, you knew he was using this situation as a distraction. He hummed as he ran one hand up your side until he was cupping your jaw, trailing his wet lips down the side of your neck. “Mark, stop.” You said firmly just as he nipped softly at the flesh under your ear, pushing him tenderly by his shoulders until he was far enough that you could look at him properly.

 “Did I do something?”, his panicked eyes searched your own for an answer.

 You sighed, “no,” as you slid off his lap and made yourself comfortable on the sofa next to him. “I just- why?”

 “Why what, baby?”

 “What did you do to deserve this?” you asked him tenderly as you crossed your legs and turned to face him, tracing your fingers from his harsh eyebrow piercing to the soft skin of his cheekbone. Under the soft light of the lamps in your living room his bruises were faint and indistinct, but they were still there. The black and blue painted on his skin somehow looked pretty, it was a deep contrast to his normal warm tone, but it didn’t exactly look bad – just sore.

 “Can we not talk about this, please?” he groaned as he dropped his head into his hands.

 “Just tell me what happened!” You argued, your voice raised a little in exasperation. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to talk to you about it. Everyone knew about Marks reputation, he was known for sporting the odd black eye and not holding his tongue when he should. But as you were sat next to him, you realised that you didn’t actually know why.

 “I can’t-“

 “You can, please-”

 “No, you’re staying out of this y/n,” Marks voice was deep and hoarse as he spoke loudly to you, letting you know that his decision was final.

 “Why won’t you talk to me? Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” you breathed out, as you covered your face with your hands in frustration, letting your elbows rest on your knees, you looked up at the boy before you. “Is this an act of pity or something? Did you only come in because you felt sorry for me?”

 “What? No I-,” his phone ringing cut him off before he could speak further. Mark cursed once he saw who was calling him, “I’m sorry, I have to go, I’ll see you around.” He grabbed his stuff from the table before rushing out the door to answer the phone, leaving you alone and bathing in the now strangely silent room to process everything that had just happened.

 -

  “So, tell me about Florence!”

 Lisa was finally home from her time in Italy, and she’d somehow managed to persuade you that catching up over a drink or two was a good idea. You’d never been the type to drink to get drunk, not that you hadn’t been drunk; it just didn’t happen very often. You were more of a coffee lover, that’s where you and Lisa were different. While you would spend your free time slaving over a book with a steaming mug of coffee, she would spend hers sharing secrets with strangers over a bottle of beer.  You supposed your dynamic wasn’t so different to Donghyuck and Mark, like earth versus fire, air versus water; you were somewhat dependent on eachother, the perfect contradiction.

 “It was incredible, the architecture was phenomenal, as was the art and gosh you would’ve loved the culture!” She gushed excitedly after taking a long gulp of her fruity cocktail.

 If you didn’t know her personally, you might have been jealous of Lisa. Upfront, she seemed unmistakably perfect, her hair was thick and shiny, her skin was clear, and she flourished in social settings. But you did know her, well enough to know that her happy exterior wasn’t always genuine and that she too found life to be rather stressful at times, she was just better at relieving that stress than you were; hence her tendency to party and pick up boys every now and then.

 The two of you talked back and forth about her time in Florence and your time without her, although you failed to mention anything involving Mark, the last thing you needed was Lisa breathing down your neck about something that you weren’t entirely sure about yourself. She raved about the museums and galleries she’d visited and made sure to recite each and every individual piece of art that she’d enjoyed; yes, you were jealous. You were jealous of her freedom and you were jealous of her carefree nature, you wished you could be like that. Perhaps if it weren’t for your family, you would be a little more like Lisa. You thought back to a few days prior when you were sitting behind Mark, clinging to him tightly as the two of you rode through the rain; that was the most unburdened you had felt in a long time.

 You were snapped out of your train of thought by Lisa standing up from her seat next to you at the bar, “I’ll be back in a minute,” she signaled to the bathroom before traipsing away from you, leaving you with your thoughts and a half empty glass of vodka and lemonade.  

 As you waited you found yourself casting your gaze around the busy room; the bar seemed to be teeming with students like you, apart from the odd older guy. You spent a lot of your time observing people and their actions, it was almost like a hobby, being a bystander. There were booths filled with youngsters, chanting and laughing and having the time of their lives, there were bar stools filled with friends downing shots and getting plastered, and then there was you. You, who would rather be at home, curled up and watching a movie with a bowl of shitty popcorn. So, when you were approached by a sleazy looking man who seemed to be rather under the influence, you were somewhat bewildered.

 “Two shots for this lovely lady and I!” He hollered to the barman over the blaring music as he gestured roughly towards you. He reeked of alcohol and sweat, a rather nasty combination which could absolutely not be considered attractive.

 “Oh, no I was just leaving-”

 “C’mon, just one drink!” he interrupted you, sending a ratty smile in your direction.

 “No really, I’d rather not” you raised yourself off the tall stool you had been perched on, reaching for your bag as you desperately tried to remove yourself from the situation. This was why you didn’t like going out, you were terrified of exactly what appeared to be happening right now. You felt vulnerable as soon as he appeared next to you, your instincts quickly telling you that the man before you was bad news.

 He grabbed your wrist firmly, making you wince at the abrupt action. “Don’t touch me,” you seethed as you tried to pry away his painful grip on your wrist.

 “You’re a fair handful,” he slurred as he moved closer to you, moving his other hand to clutch around your waist under your shirt, making you feel uneasy. You could feel tears of panic begin to sting at the corner of your eyes as you looked around frantically in exasperation at the fact that nobody seemed to be aware of what was going on. He pressed himself against you and you were struggling to get away from him as you felt him begin to trail his hand to your backside.

 “Get your fucking hands off her,” a familiar voice threatened from beside you, although you couldn’t quite figure out who it belonged to.

 He didn’t comply. You felt sick.

 He was suddenly ripped away from you as a large hand grasped at the neck of his shirt and a swift punch was thrown, and then another two. “I warned you,” your eyes widened at the scene which was playing out before you.

 “Mark, stop!” you shouted as soon as you recognised the dark mop of hair that you were now well-acquainted with. Of course, he didn’t listen to you.

 The drunk man tried to retaliate but was soon rendered defenseless as he took one final hit to the face and staggered backwards with blood dripping down his chin, “sorry man, didn’t realise she was yours,” he laughed as he spat blood onto the floor and disappeared into the crowd.

 You looked away from the man who was swaying away from you and, sure enough, standing before you was Mark Lee in all his grandeur. He was dressed from head to toe in black and his bruised cheek was mostly faded now, barely visible unless you were really looking for it. His knuckles looked red and sore as he splayed his hand out to check for any broken skin.

 Your devilish savior ignored his distasteful comment as he diverted his attention to you, “are you alright?”

 You shook your head, “I just need to get out of here”. You felt claustrophobic, like you couldn’t breathe. And, god, you were itching to shower and scrub off the feeling of that man’s grimy hands on your body.

 You pulled your gaze away from Mark for a second, just long enough to see Lisa walking your way from the bathroom. “Y/n? What’s going on?” she asked as she looked between you and Mark, who was standing so close that you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

 She undoubtedly knew who Mark was, everybody at your university did. He was striking in both appearance and in demeanor, although not always for the right reasons. And so, she would most likely be wondering what someone like him would be doing speaking to someone like you. The two of you were so drastically different; if he was the devil then you were the purest sinner to walk this earth. He was dripping in warning signs, he radiated bad news, yet you found yourself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it would appear that he too found himself unable to shake you from his mind.

 “Nothing, it’s fine.”

 “Why is he here?” she nodded to the boy standing behind you, sending you a look of questioning.

 You heard Mark scoff under his breath as you glanced round to him, trying to think up an excuse to leave the bar that wouldn’t lead to a lengthy conversation with Lisa later.

 “Something came up, I’m sorry. I can’t stay,” you offered her with pleading eyes, praying she would understand your need to leave, even if she didn’t know the reason behind it.

 “Alright, be safe,” she responded with a sigh and a quick hug, and with that, you turned on your heel and walked quickly out the door.

 You could feel Marks presence behind you as you walked along the pavement with your head hung low, your feet dragging and scuffing along the stone as you sifted through the multitude of thoughts that had gathered in your head. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a while, you breathed in the cold city air and exhaled heavily through your mouth as you tilted your head to gaze up at the dark sky which was faintly painted with the warm glow of the city lights.

 You could breathe clearly out in the fresh air, the sticky heat of the bar finally cooling on your skin; it wasn’t a particularly nice feeling but it was better than being coated in the sensation of a strangers touch.

 Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your trance-like state, you reached into your pocket and fished it out, stopping dead in your tracks as you read the message on your lit-up screen.

 [dad]

One of my business associates just saw you leaving a bar with that boy, remember what I told you, y/n.

 You rushed to turn around as you looked back along the long stretch of street in search of someone looking at the two of you, but you saw no one. You were nearing the canal just to the west of the city centre and the street lighting was limited, not giving you the best view of the road you’d just walked down. Mark looked at you in confusion as he lifted his hands to rest on your shoulders and looked into your fiery eyes, “is everything okay?”

 You shook your head and shrugged off his hold on you, already beginning to walk again, more hurriedly this time. “You have to leave, Mark,” you told him firmly as you breathed in shakily.

 “What, why?” he questioned as he crept up beside you, easily matching your determined stride.

 “Please just- it’s for your own safety, I can’t be seen with you,” you told him truthfully, knowing that it sounded a little harsh. Your dad was, however, a powerful man, and you didn’t doubt for a second that he would do whatever he deemed necessary to get what he wanted; and if he wanted you to stop seeing Mark, then he would not hesitate to dispose of him in some way. All for his stupid business and riches. All your parents seemed to care about was their reputation, as long as their names, yours included, were untarnished, the company would keep raking in stacks of money and numerous money-making deals. And they would do whatever they had to, get rid of whoever they had to, in order to keep it that way. They’d been like this for as long as you could remember and there was no part of you that would ever be able to challenge your father’s threats. Because that’s what they were; threats. And he meant every word that he said.

 “Y/n, what the hell are you talking about? If this is about the bar or the other night then I’m sorry I-,” he shut up when you turned to face him once more and gripped both his hands in yours, lacing them together intimately. His brows furrowed as he looked down to your interlaced fingers and then back up to your eyes.

 “Please, Mark.”

 “I don’t understand?”

 You sighed up at the dangerous boy before you, trying to think of an appropriate way of telling him that your father probably wanted to kill him just for being near you. “My dad doesn’t – he doesn’t like you”

 “Your dad? I haven’t ever met him, though?” his face twists as he processes the information, struggling to fathom how your father could possibly have an opinion on someone who he’d never even spoken to before.

 “That doesn’t matter, you don’t exactly-,” you paused and chewed at your bottom lip, tilting your head to look at your feet and lowering your voice to a whisper, “- have the best reputation.”

 He squeezed your intertwined hands comfortingly as he sighed, dragging your hands up to rest around his neck gently before circling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

 Mark wasn’t particularly proud of his not-so-perfect character, he knew that people talked about him, he knew that he didn’t do himself any favours by consistently sporting some form of bruising or blemish and getting himself into fights. But Mark was soft, too. He had a heart of gold when it mattered; he was like the purest form of oxygen in a smoky room, he never failed to show his good side when his loved ones were in need.

 “I’m not all bad, you know, princess” he chuckled soothingly, his breath tickling against your face.  

 Your fingers played with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want you to get hurt-,” you started, stopping to think quickly. You weren’t sure where these feelings were coming from. You’d barely known Mark until a couple of weeks ago, the two of you having never payed eachother any great amount of attention before, but Donghyuck had introduced him into your life and now you couldn’t seem to shake him from your mind.

 “-because for some reason, I care about whether you get hurt or not,” you laughed breathlessly, rolling your eyes as you looked up to the sky once more, perhaps searching for the answers to all the questions swimming around in your head at the moment.

 “Can I kiss you?”

 You shook your head, chuckling nervously at his question, it was so very Mark. He managed to completely ignore your concern, instead opting to act on his own thoughts. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?” you said in exasperation, feeling somewhat frustrated.

 “Yes, I have, but I don’t care, y/n. I’m not going to leave, your dad doesn’t scare me, and you make my heart beat far faster than I’d ever care to admit - I know you feel it too. So please, y/n, let me just have this,” he pulled you closer by your waist as he let himself wear his heart on his sleeve momentarily, pleadingly looking into your eyes.

 “He’ll kill you, you know,” you warned faintly.

 “I can take care of myself.”

 “I know I just- I think you’re underestimating this. He’s powerful and he warned me to stay away from you. Hell, you barely even know me, Mark, I’m really not worth this-,” you gasped as you felt one of his large hands squeeze your waist and he used the opportunity to shut you up completely, mumbling a soft “stop talking,” before pressing his lips to yours in one swift motion.

 You stayed like that for a moment, your body flushed against Marks chest as he held you tightly to him, as if he were afraid that you would disappear if he wasn’t too careful. He soon pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You admired his dark lashes fluttering against his satin skin and the way his lips were full and wet from your kiss, he was breathtaking. You couldn’t deny your attraction to him, your heart practically begging to be released from its cage whenever he was close to you like this; he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

 “This is dangerous,” you whispered, encouraging him to open his doe eyes as he parted his lips a little in thought.

 “You look so good right now, I just- I can’t,” he stumbled over his words, his voice breaking under your gaze. “God, I like you so much.”

 You would have giggled at how he sounded like a schoolboy if he hadn’t kissed you again, gliding his right hand up your body until he was cupping your velvety skin and pulling you closer still. He kissed you with so much feeling and emotion, you barely recognised him as the boy you had first met anymore. His cold, harsh exterior completely melting away under your gentle touch. He let himself groan as you kissed him back with just as much ardour, letting your tongue gently pry his lips apart as you tried to convey your feelings for him. You let yourself momentarily forget the posing threat from your dad, enjoying Marks successful attempt at distracting you from it.

 His touch was fiery-hot, his hands leaving a burning trail in their wake as he touched you delicately, as though you were a doll who might break if you fell into the wrong hands. He pulled away once more and grasped your hand in his before leading you away from the canal and towards his home.

 -

 Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a hushed voice nearby, propping yourself up with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the other. You blinked groggily several times before you managed to keep your eyes open for long enough to sit up with your legs dangling off the side of the unfamiliar mattress, the cool air of the room making your hairs stand on end. You looked down at your cold legs and noticed that you were only wearing an oversized shirt with your underwear – the shirt, you recalled, was Mark’s.

 He’d brought you back home with him last night, you didn’t really feel like going home and explaining the events of the night to Lisa. Your brain was still half asleep and hazy as you tried to recall all that had happened yesterday; you could remember Mark offering to sleep on the sofa, but you also recounted that you’d asked him if he could stay with you, his presence alone helping you feel at-ease. He made sure to keep his distance, to keep to his side of the bed, even if he was itching to reach across the sea of sheets to hold you. He made you feel warm and safe and at-ease and that scared you a little – how quickly he’d earned your trust, if that’s what you could call it.

 You couldn’t make out the muffled voice coming from next door, but you imagined he was probably just on the phone to someone. You stifled a yawn as you reached for your phone, which had been thrown onto the carpeted floor by the mattress in haste before you knocked out fast asleep last night. The time was only just gone 7am, you wondered who Mark could be speaking to this early, a friend possibly? A parent? It was when you thought about things like this that you realised just how little you really knew about him. You knew that he liked living more dangerously than most, that he had an unhealthy love for driving his motorcycle too fast, too late, and too often, you also knew of his friendship with Donghyuck; but after that, you struggled to find anything you could add to the list. You barely knew the boy.

 “Sorry, did I wake you?” he called from the doorway, startling you out of your tired thoughts. You looked up and felt the air leave your lungs as you saw him; he looked ethereal. He was leaning with his left shoulder against the flakily-painted frame, his navy-blue hoodie was too big and his honey-coloured collarbones were only half hidden by the drooping neck of his bed-attire. His boxers were fitted to his thighs and you had to pull your gaze away to stop the inevitable blush that would otherwise creep up your neck. He’d probably already noticed your staring, anyway.

 “Yeah, but it’s okay,” you said groggily as you stretched your arms back to relieve your aching shoulder-blades – you must have slept on them funny.

 You made the effort to stand up but were swiftly turned back around as Mark placed his warm hand on the small of your back and guided you back to the plush mess of bedding and blankets. You lay back down on your side, with your head facing the door and your back to Marks side of the bed. The sheets smelled of him, you realised. A little musky perhaps, like cinnamon and spice. His aroma was warm and comforting as you pulled the duvet up to rest just beneath your chin to try and keep out the chill of the room, your hands clasping together just below the covers. You felt the bed dip as he sunk into the pillows beside you, his breathing was shallow and yet you could somehow still just make it out over the quiet sounds of the city outside waking up.

 “Do you mind if I- can I lay with you?” he asked you, sounding unusually shy, although maybe it was just his lack of sleep.

 “You lay with me last night, Mark” you chuckled.

 “No, I mean-,” he cut himself off, shuffling around behind you until you felt his arm reach around your waist tenderly. His chest was radiating his body heat, just a couple of centimeters from touching yours. “Like this,” he whispered in your ear, softly pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear as he grasped your clasped hands in his blindly.

 “Oh” you replied, barely there. He made your brain go mushy and you were still so tired, having not gone to sleep until late. You wiggled yourself backwards a little, just enough so that you could feel his heartbeat on your clothed back as arm tightened around you. “Let’s just stay like this forever, it’s so nice,” you murmured, letting your eyes fall shut as you basked in Marks warm embrace.

 A few hours later, you find yourself back in your apartment. You’re nestled into the warmth of your sofa with your legs tucked into your chest and a pillow hugged tight to your chest. Lisa was sat next to you, in an equally relaxed position, her fluffy socks tickling at your side faintly.

 “He gave you a ride? Twice? On his bike?” she repeated fragments of what you’d told her back to you. You’d told her more than that, but her eyes grew wide the second you had mentioned Marks name. You nodded in response, “yes?”

 She breathed out heavily, “he’s hot too, do you know what you’re getting into?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh and throw the pillow you were hugging at her. She shrugged, “hey! I’m just saying, the attractive ones always cause the most trouble”.

 You didn’t reply, instead you placed your head in your hands and lulled to the side, looking up at her and sighing like a lovesick puppy. “I really like him, Lisa,” you mumbled, the atmosphere turning more serious, “I just don’t wanna get hurt”.

 “You have to see past that. Live a little, y/n, let yourself loose for a bit,” she told you. You knew that she was probably right, and that she was only encouraging you to do what she knew best. It was easy for Lisa to say that, she was renowned for her extroverted, care-free personality, and you did sometimes envy that. But maybe it was time to take a leaf from her book, you didn’t know what would happen with Mark, you just knew that there was a strong connection between you two that you couldn’t ignore anymore. You couldn’t keep fighting against it. No matter how much you willed yourself to hate him, you never could. He was so much softer than you thought, there was more substance to him.

 He was bright and full and carefree, almost the exact opposite to you. He was a little similar to Lisa, actually, just more devious. More devilish. You could see that his harsh front was beginning to melt around you, though. You seemed to have some kind of effect on him, and he hated that. You loved it. You found yourself wanting to get to know the boy hidden beneath all those layers of toughened-up skin. “Maybe I will,” you replied, with a knowing smile on your face.

 -

 Your lips parted as you panted, out of breath as you pulled back for air, throwing a quick glance to your buzzing phone, signaling yet another call from your father; you ignored it. Marks lips trailed lazily down your neck as he kissed faint flowering bruises into your soft skin, his teeth occasionally nipping and biting at the juncture of your neck. You closed your eyes in bliss and threaded your fingers through his curly, raven hair, tugging at it to signal your enjoyment.

 Your father had been texting you and leaving you voicemail messages frequently over the past week. At first you were concerned for Marks safety, but it seemed that his threats were empty as nothing had come of them yet. And so, you found yourself seated in Marks lap for the third time that week. He let out a low groan as you tugged at his hair once more and shifted slightly in his lap, “stop moving, baby,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly as he squeezed you into his embrace.

 A knock at the door of Marks small, one-bed apartment stilled the pair of you. He lifted his head up to look at you with a cheeky smile, “what?” you looked down at him with wide eyes.

 “You’ll see,” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on your plump lips before picking you up off his lap and placing you down on the warm blanket-covered sofa, you crossed your legs and looked up to him in anticipation.

 He padded over to the front door, just out of your line of sight, you heard him open the door and engage in conversation with the visitor. You glanced around the room and took in your surroundings, observing, as you always did. You’d been in Marks apartment two or three times by now, he seemed to keep it relatively clean, everything seemed to have its place.  You squinted as you noticed a sliver of silver on the bookshelf in the corner of the room, it seemed to be an expensive looking watch, a rolex, perhaps. It looked to be of that sort of style. You wondered briefly how Mark would come by such an expensive watch but didn’t think much of it, perhaps it was a family heirloom?

 Your gaze trailed down as you noticed a hard, black case protruding from its space under the shelf. It didn’t look like a briefcase, in fact it looked to be rather heavy-duty and you wondered what on earth Mark would have one for, you’d only ever seen things like that when people were housing weapons or something similar. You knew this because your father liked to keep cases full of handguns around your house, not that you were supposed to know, you were merely a curious child who went snooping where you shouldn’t have.

 “Hey, so pepperoni or cheese?” you snapped your gaze from the case over to Mark who was just emerging from the hallway to the front door, two greasy pizza boxes in hand. A warm smile lit up your face as the delicious smell of pizza filled the room, “you ordered pizza?”

 “Yeah, I figured you’d be hungry, you do like pizza, right?”

 “Of course,” you hummed, shuffling over to make room for Mark to sit next to you.

 You spent the next two hours sharing the food between you and talking, laughing like normal youngsters should. It felt good to finally be in each other’s company without watching your back or worrying about the future. You had the television on in the background, it was playing an old black and white film that you weren’t really paying attention to, and you felt at home.

 Mark placed the empty boxes on the coffee table once you’d finished with them, pulling you into him and tangling his legs with yours as you rested your head on his chest and listened to his quickened heartbeat. “What do you do? You know, when you’re not causing trouble”

 He visibly tensed at your question and looked away from you as he thought of what to reply “I work for a company, just running errands. It’s nothing special,” he shrugged, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You mind if I smoke?” you shook your head.

 “That sounds a bit boring,” you yawned into his chest, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he let out a soft laugh. He leaned over you momentarily to reach for his pack of cigarettes before leaning back again and fishing his lighter from his pocket.

 “Yeah, I guess it is,” he replied as he caught a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter up to encase the stick in a flame, leaving behind a glowing tip. He took a long drag, letting his eyes flutter shut in bliss for a second before blowing the smoke out, angling his head up so as to not blow it in your direction.

 “Why don’t you quit?” you coughed a little, fanning away the smoke that had snaked its way down to you.

 “Smoking or work?”

 “Work,” you chuckled, glancing up at him and tracing a finger along his jawline. Admiring the way his jaw flexed as he exhaled another plume of smoke.

“It pays well”

 “You get paid well for running errands?” you raised an eyebrow at him, not quite believing his reasoning.

 “Yes?”

 Before you can say anything else, Marks phone rings from its place on the floor by the empty pizza boxes. “Shit I better get that-,” he lifted the cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table after taking a final, lengthy drag from the glowing stick.

 “It’s okay, I should probably head home anyway,” you cut him off, it was getting late and you didn’t plan on staying the night, you had a 9am lecture the next morning.

 “Alright, baby. Get home safe,” he stood up, pulling you up with him and pulling you in to press a peck on your supple lips, and then another slightly more drawn out kiss before you dragged yourself away from him, not wanting to get carried away. He tasted like wispy smoke and peppermint again and you could so easily get lost in his lips, the effort to pull away proving to be gallant.

 “I’ll see you later,” you blushed up at him, fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper. You turned your back and walked towards the exit, hearing him pick up his phone and answer the incessant ringing. His voice was muffled through the thin wall of his main corridor, and although you knew it was wrong, you found yourself listening.

 “Hey, Sicheng. What’s up?”

 “No, not yet. Hey, can we talk about this later? Now’s not a good time, man.”

 You could picture Mark furrowing his brows in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, smiling softly to yourself as you slipped on your shoes.

 “Yeah, y/n just left, actually”

 “Yes, Sicheng. I know”

 “I’ll do it soon, I swear”

 Your ears perked up at the mention of your name and you suddenly felt like you were invading his privacy by staying and listening to this conversation. You didn’t feel comfortable hearing information you probably shouldn’t have been privy to. And so, you slipped out of Marks warm apartment as quietly as you could and walked home at a brisk pace, eager to jump into the comfort of your own bed and fall asleep.

 -

 “That’s all for today, don’t forget your deadline next week!” you stood up from your seat in the lecture hall and stuffed your laptop and notebook into your scruffy bag before walking down the stairs to the exit. You’d just finished a two-hour lecture on the history of fine art, the one part of your major that you didn’t absolutely love. It’s not that you didn’t find it interesting, you just felt that it dragged on sometimes; half an hour felt like twice as long in that class.

 You left the room as quickly as you could, already imagining how good your Thursday latte would taste once you made it to the coffee shop. You were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice the boy walking in your direction until you bumped into a firm structure, far broader and taller than your own.

 You looked up and smiled as your eyes were met with the pretty sight of Mark’s curly black hair - messy as always, yet still so perfect. “Hi” you grimaced up at him through your lashes.

 “Hey, princess-” he chuckled, “-mind if I join you?” He didn’t give you time to reply as he took your hand in his and pulled you out of your lecture building. “I’m guessing you’re heading to Hyuck’s café?”

 “Yeah” you replied quietly as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, a rosy blush spreading its way up your neck and onto the apples of your cheeks, you tried not to smile too much. You hated the effect he had on you. He had the ability to turn you into a blushing mess at the drop of a hat, and he made it look so easy, it’s like he didn’t even have to try. You wiggled your way out of his grasp, remembering that you were in public. The last thing you wanted was for one of your dads associates to report something back to him, again.

 “How was your day?” he peered across to you, ignoring the way you had separated yourself from him.

 “It’s been alright, pretty standard. How did you know where to find me?” you replied in question, wiggling your eyebrows up at him, “stalker” you giggled, watching as he opened his mouth to respond, shutting it before he could say anything. He looked like a fish.

 “You mind if we take the bike?” he nodded his head towards the striking motorcycle just ahead of you, it wasn’t parked very carefully. He had obviously just pulled up and jumped off in a rush.

 “Oh, it’s okay I can just walk-”

 “Nonsense, baby. Hop on,” he picked up his helmet, placing it on your head and fastening the strap under your chin. “Perfect” he smiled once he was done, admiring how you looked in the soft light of the early evening for the first time. His smile was sad, though you didn’t really think anything of it.

 The two of you usually crossed paths when the sun had set, and the stars were visible for the night, it was nice to see Mark in the golden hour of the day for once. His skin was glowing as he bathed in the light, his black curly hair a stark contrast as his messy locks fell against his forehead and into his eyes. He looked breathtaking, although you supposed that shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you anymore; Mark always looked breathtaking, ethereal even. It was as if he was sculpted by the gods themselves, his beauty truly not of this world.

 You rode through the city, the warm air blowing your hair over your shoulders as your arms automatically wrapped themselves snugly around Marks toned core.

 You found yourself in a state of serenity when you were close to him like this. His warmth and his intoxicating aroma were the deadliest of all combinations. Truthfully, if Mark was an erupting volcano, you would most likely swim towards his lethal inferno. You didn’t understand why you felt this way; he had some unknown, invisible control over you and you were sure you were already addicted.

 “Oh, crap,” you heard under a hushed breath from in front of you. Mark was looking from side to side in a frantic motion, his sudden state of distress immediately alarming you.

 “Mark?” he muttered something that you didn’t quite catch, ignoring your questioning plea. The air around you turned static at the revving of an engine or two coming from right behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck raised into goosebumps and you called out his name once more.

 “It’s fine, baby- shit-” you heard a sharp intake of breath and you lifted your head slightly so that you could rest your forehead on Marks shoulder, letting your eyes screw tightly shut.

 The bike swerved violently to the right as you heard the first gun-shot ring out, it’s deafening sound leaving a painful ringing in your ears. “What the fuck was that? Was that a gun-shot? Holy crap, oh my God-” you stopped yourself and were now verging on terrified as you buried your face further into his warm body. “Mark? What’s going on?”

 “Just hold on real tight, okay?” he briefly glanced back to your quivering, hunched over figure, placing a reassuring hand on the lower part of your thigh, hoping to send you some form of comfort – it didn’t really work. “We’re gonna be fine”

 He seemed determined to get you both out of this mess unscathed, urging his bike to reach dangerous speeds as he steered you both through the bustling traffic of the city, weaving between cars and turning down backstreets, trying desperately to lose your unwanted companions. His entire body was tensed - you could feel it. The adrenaline that was rushing through his blood was causing his veins to pulsate and protrude and his arms were firm with concentration, his grip on the handles of his motorcycle never wavering.

 Another shot rang out. The bike juddered speedily along a small one-way street as you both felt the impact of a bullet nestling itself into the framework; luckily not hindering your getaway speed. “For fucks sake” he cursed as he noted the damage to his precious motorcycle.

 You were muttering a mantra under your breath as you prayed to the Gods that you didn’t believe in; you prayed to Ares and Dionysus and Hades. You chanted and begged to Marks Godlike entity, willing the gunfire to end and for you to be able to have him in piece. You just wanted to be with Mark. That was all. You wanted to enjoy his presence without constantly feeling the watchful gaze of someone lurking in the shadows. You’d been on edge about it ever since you’d received that text, maybe this was your punishment. Perhaps you’d have to endure this as your comeuppance, your retribution for disobeying your fathers’ wishes. What you didn’t realise, however, was that your father wasn’t your greatest threat.

 The wind only grew colder as you sped along the quiet streets, it seemed that Mark was leading you out of the city and away from the bustling streets. The cloud of polluted air covering the city faded until you could only smell fresh, salty air and the never-ending traffic blurred into the soft sound of waves crashing against the sand of the nearby beach. Mark had brought you to the sea.

 “They’re gone” he called over his shoulder as you slowed to a halt at the empty end of the beach. You didn’t dare move from your place behind him, holding him so tightly you feared you may be suffocating him, but he didn’t complain. He instead hung his head low and released his grip on the handlebars, opting to drop his head into his hands and let out the breath he’d been holding in for the past fifteen minutes. “C’mon”.

 You took the hand that Mark offered you once he’d stepped onto the rotting wood of the boardwalk next to you, letting him help your shaking form stand up. You looked up at him with fearful eyes, you didn’t know what to think. Who were they? Had your dad sent them after Mark? After you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to know, you were just glad to be standing back on your own two feet and by the safety of the ocean. You felt safe with Mark, regardless.

You let him guide you down the grassy dunes and onto the soft white sand, neither of you exchanging any words for quite some time. You were in shock, perhaps. You weren’t really sure where to begin. The two of you took your time drinking in the lengthy stretch of sand before you, hands loosely linked together in an attempt to reassure one another that you were both okay.

 It was Mark who spoke up first. He let out a shaky sigh after you’d been walking aimlessly along the beach for several painfully silent minutes. “I guess I should probably start talking, right?” he let out a nervous laugh and lifted his free hand to rub at the back of his neck, something you’d picked up on as a nervous habit of his.

 You looked up at him, the look in your eyes enough to tell him that he should explain himself.

 “The company I work for, the errands I run aren’t exactly legal” he started, not even able to look you in the eye as he spoke. “I’m so sorry you’re caught up in this, y/n,” his voice breaking as he spoke.

 “What do you mean? I’m not caught up in anything. We lost them, Mark. We’re alright.” You stopped walking, tugging on his hand until he turned around and stood in front of you. The almighty, Godlike figure you’d first met suddenly looked like a trembling mess, his tough gaze breaking under your scrutiny.

 “God, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” Mark whispered softly as he looked into your eyes, his pupils flitting around your face, he seemed uneasy. You weren’t entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, though. Mark loved you. He loved you, and you were too stupid to see it. “Why did it have to be you?”

 As you looked up at the raven-haired boy, you realised something. Or rather, you understood something. You understood what it felt like to have something that you never wanted to lose. In the few fleeting weeks you’d known Mark, you’d grown to care for him. His towering frame made you feel small and helpless but being in his presence somehow also made you feel powerful and free. When you were with him, it felt like nothing else mattered, he was everything; he was the air that you breathed, the drug that you were addicted to, the celestial being that you didn’t know you craved so badly until he’d first kissed you. You needed him, and perhaps you did love him, even after only a short time, you’d grown so attached.

 He plucked his phone from his pocket and looked at the text he’d seemingly just received, swiftly putting it back in his pocket before you could see, “Not now, God. Not yet.” He muttered frantically, he was manic, the look in his eyes unlike anything he’d ever expressed to you before.

 “This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t meant to happen. I’ve fucked this all up and I cannot express how sorry I truly am-,” he cut his rambling off when you reached up to cup his face in the smooth palms of your hands, stroking your thumbs lovingly over his cheeks. He was a wreck, a trembling cage of beauty in your hands, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss his fears away.

 “They gave me an assignment and I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted it,” he searched your eyes in panic, lifting his own large palms to cover your dainty hands, pulling your hands down to rest on his broad chest. “They’ll kill me if I don’t deliver, I always complete my missions, I-” he heaved out a deep breath and gave himself a moment to think. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

 “Baby, it’s okay. We can figure this out together, alright?” you were calm as you spoke, although your heart was racing ninety to the dozen. You were scared, yes. But Mark made you feel safe, you had nothing to fear when you were with him, that much you were sure of now.

 You grasped his hands tightly in yours as he held them against his own chest, the thundering beat of his heart hard to miss. “I love you.”

 “Let me love you, Mark,” you trained your eyes on his lips and leaned into him, melting into his embrace completely the second your lips met his. You kissed him so delicately, letting your feelings mold into every fibre of his being with each and every peck, each time your lips met becoming more and more heavenly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you couldn’t possibly be any closer to one another no matter how hard you tried; your chests were pressed flush against each other, your hands touching every inch of skin as your tongues met in a passionate dance.

 “Don’t shut me out any longer,” you gasped as you broke away for air momentarily, before reattaching your lips to his in a drawn-out kiss. “I can’t get enough of you, Mark,” you panted, digging your fingertips into his shoulders in utter, blown-out bliss.

 Marks hands travelled from yours to meet around your waist, your lower back, your hips, your neck. He was touching you everywhere, like it was the last time he would touch you, kiss you, like this. His lips sucked on yours and his kisses were feverish and open mouthed, his thigh propped between your legs as he tried to keep you both steady. He finally settled one of his hands to rest between your ear and your jaw, pulling away to admire your wind-swept state in the heat of the moment. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You know that?” you could see tears beginning to form in the corners of the gorgeous, doe eyes you’d fallen into so deeply, his gaze leering so heavily into your own.

 He pressed a final, barely-there kiss to your supple lips before dropping his head into the crook of your neck languidly. His hot breath stuttered against your neck, your hairs standing on end as you bathed in his being. His hold on you felt like molten lava against your skin, his very touch burning hot onto your sensitive skin, leaving red trails wherever his fingertips travelled.

 “I love you, please forgive me,” he sounded distraught.

 You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and another shiver once you felt the cold metal come between your bodies, although you didn’t have time to react before you felt it, before you heard it. The sound in itself would have been enough to make you faint, it was piercing and deadly and you were gone. The gun between you fell to the floor as Mark shook violently in horror at your now limp body, which had now fallen, crumbled lifelessly into his arms. Your heart. He’d shot you straight through your heart, he’d put a bullet through all your love for him.

 “I’m so sorry,” he was hysterical, yet unnervingly tranquil at the same time.  

 “They told me I had to kill you. Your fathers’ company is our biggest threat and I-,” he paused, shaking his head as the tears began to cascade silently down his cheeks. “I had to do it. I had to make him vulnerable, I had to put work first.”

 “I didn’t have a choice, I’m so fucking sorry, y/n,” he lowered himself to the ground and sobbed as his arms thrashed into your unmoving body, his fists clenching at your blood-soaked clothes. The colour drained from your skin and in turn, Marks face paled in trepidation, his heart felt heavy, yet so incredibly empty. He loves you, but he’d shot you. You were dead.

[virgil-on-crofters]

Homework Cuddles

Hey! Like I said I am gonna start getting back to normal writing. This is actually a story that I began quite a few months ago before just coming back to it now. I’m really glad I did, because I really enjoyed completing it! It was just what I needed to ease back into writing.

Genre: Fluff (College!Au)

Pairings: Romantic Logince

Warnings: Small mention of alcohol, Small mention of insomnia 

Summary: Logan is occupied doing homework for his college classes, but that doesn’t mean he is too busy to provide some late night cuddles to his boyfriend, Roman. 

Word Count: 756

<><><>

The downtown, fourth-story apartment was dark apart from the floor lamp beside the couch, illuminating the studying college student along with his textbooks and laptop. Three empty mugs and one full one sat on the coffee table that was in front of the couch. The room was silent other than the sounds of cars driving past and the occasional honk that came through the open window and the gentle pitter-patter of rain hitting the fire escape outside. The room was beginning to fill with the scent of fresh rain that was wafting into the small apartment.  

Logan was the man sat criss-cross on the couch, laptop sitting on his lap as he typed away. He had an essay due the next morning and he was determined to finish it that night. It was nearly midnight and his boyfriend, Roman, had gone to bed about an hour previously after a few glasses of wine they’d shared (Merlot for Roman and Pinot for Logan), or at least that’s what Logan thought. He turned his head up and pushed up his glasses as Roman emerged from their bedroom, rubbing at his bright, crimson colored eyes. He was wearing one of Logan’s blue t-shirts over a pair of his own grey sweatpants, a fluffy white blanket draped around his shoulders. His hair was shuffled messily in front of his tired eyes, and honestly, he looked adorable.

Logan pushed down his laptop screen a bit as he stopped typing, “Baby? What are you still doing up?”

Roman hummed a bit as he sat beside Logan on the couch, pulling the blanket around himself more as he curled up, “Couldn’t sleep..” he muttered.

Logan frowned a bit, scooting closer and putting an arm around Roman. Roman let his head rest on Logan’s shoulder, melting into the warmth from the touch. Logan hummed as a small smile grazed his lips, “Do you want me to come tuck you in? Maybe lay down with you until you fall asleep?”

Roman shook his head, “No, I just wanna be here with you..” 

Logan smiled a bit more at the words, “Do you wanna lay here and try to sleep while I keep working?” 

Roman nodded, laying down and curling up in Logan’s lap as Logan moved his laptop to rest on the arm of the couch. Logan made a small happy sound as he kissed the side of Roman’s head before resuming his typing. Roman glanced up to the screen, “What are you working on?”

“An essay for intro to chemical engineering,” Logan said quietly, still typing.

“What’s the essay about?”

“It’s on the use of synthetic elements in progressive technological practices in the engineering field today-” he stopped, catching himself before he would start to tangent and smiling softly, “Try and get some rest for me, Dear.” 

Roman nodded, sighing a bit as he closed his eyes and relaxed a bit more, enjoying the warmth he was getting from the other. Logan kept typing away, leaning down every once in a while to kiss Roman’s head before returning to his work. Roman very slowly fell half-asleep, listening to the clicks the keyboard made as Logan typed as well as Logan’s breathing. Logan was almost finished with his essay as he glanced down to Roman, watching the other for a few moments with a smile. He titled his laptop screen shut as he moved to pull the blanket Roman had brought out over Roman before resuming his typing. 

Roman whined as Logan went back to typing, reaching up and tugging at the sleeve of Roman’s hoodie and nuzzling his knee. Logan giggled, “Can I help you baby?”

Roman whined again, “Come cuddle meee...”

Logan smiled and blushed at the cuteness before hesitantly saving and closing his laptop. After plugging everything in and stacking his school materials on the coffee table neatly, he wiggled around so he was laying down and his head was resting on a pillow, Roman laying in-between his legs and his head on Logan’s chest. He pulled the blanket around the both of them before making sure Roman was tucked in nice and snug before turning off the floor lamp with a simple ‘click’. Roman nuzzled and pecked his boyfriend’s chest sleepily, “I love you...” he muttered softly, eyes fluttering shut.

Logan smiled before pulling off his glasses and closing his eyes, “I love you too,” his hand tangled into his sleepy lover’s hair, playing with it softly as he felt himself begin to drift off to dreamland, “Sleep well my darling...” 

[ladyspellwood]

Spellwood Week Day 1

Zelda looked up from grading exam papers at the small knock on her open office door. “Faustus?” Her brow furrowed at the picnic basket in his hand.

“Do you have any lunch plans today, Professor Spellman?” She frowned slightly at his formality, it's not as if anyone would hear if he called her Zelda. The students were already on their summer holiday and only a few professors remained to finish grading. She set down her pen and sat back in her chair.

“No, your excellency, I do not.” He chuckled and stepped into her office.

“Sorry, force of habit. Zelda, would you be interested in joining me for lunch?” Her eyes crinkled in amusement but she didn’t let her smile reach her lips.

“I suppose I can take a break from reading essays that were clearly written an hour before they were due.” Her eyes flicked back to him as she put the papers back into an orderly stack. “Though, Faustus, I must ask, a picnic? I hadn’t pegged you as the type.”

“I can’t take credit for the idea, Hilda handed it to me as I was walking out your front door this morning,” he chuckled lightly.

“Well, I suppose that explains this.” She reached under her desk and pulled out a blanket. “She wouldn’t let me leave the house without it.” Her voice betraying her mirth at the situation.

“It appears your sister is trying to force us on a date.”

“It certainly seems like it.”

“It would be rude to let all of her hard work go to waste,” he added, almost suggestively.

“Yes. It would be a shame.” She concealed a smile as she continued to play along with his act.

“Shall we?” she draped the blanket over her arm and walked out of her office beside him.

The Academy usually teemed with students moving through the halls and talking to one another, seeing it void of life at the end of the year always felt off and the echo of her heels was disquieting. Despite the space in the hallways, his hand brushed against hers. She looked up at him, surprised.

“What? No one is here to see,” he stated with an amused smirk. After a moment’s hesitation, she laced their fingers together and began inching closer to him as they walked through the school to a door that led outside.

The warm sun on her face felt good after the dark interior of the school, as always it brought the promise of freedom. They entered the woods behind the school and she let go of his hand to put her arm in the crook of his.

“I’m surprised at Hilda; I thought your family universally hated me.”

“Hilda doesn’t hate you. She wouldn’t be setting us up together if she did. She likes when I am happy, and you make me happy.” She stated it simply but she didn’t meet his eyes.

“Do I now?” He teased.

“She thinks so.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know.” The corners of her dark lips twitched upward at his expense, but he found himself trying not to smile as well. She looked around as he helped her over a fallen tree on the path and didn’t recognize the woods around them. “Where are you taking me?”

“We are almost there.” The path turned a corner and the trees broke away to a grassy field. They walked up a hill to a shady area under a massive maple tree.

“You realize how impossible it is going to be for me to walk down this in these shoes right?” She said as they climbed, he looked back at her.

“I guess I will just have to carry you down, my dear.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” But the smirk he flashed her way said he most certainly would. The idea grew on her though as she thought about it. As her mind continued to relish the idea of the high priest carrying her down the hill, her ears started heating up while she imagined what usually came after him lifting her into his arms. She moved her hair to hopefully cover the flush creeping up her neck and focused on spreading the blanket out on the grass. He set the basket down in front of him and opened it while she settled in next to him.

“She realizes we are technically working, right?” He asked holding up a bottle of wine. Zelda snorted.

“Evidently we were supposed to eat after we finished our grading.” He set it aside and pulled out a few containers and started fixing two plates.

“There is one thing—” She glanced up from the basket with a questioning look. “Considering I left for the Academy from your house I would have thought she already knew we were…” His pause lingered.

“Dating?” She teased. “I’m sure she’s guessed at it, though she might think your staying the night has more to do with me taking advantage of Sabrina’s absence than us officially being together.”

“I will have to tell Prudence to take your niece out more often if that’s why I haven’t been kicked out before the sun rises.” She smiled, admittedly Prudence inviting Sabrina to spend a few weeks in Europe did have perfect timing.

“You are always welcome to stay until the morning but I am not responsible for whatever my niece does.”

“Death glares over my morning coffee?”

“If you’re lucky. You should have seen what she did when I arrived at the breakfast table and still smelled like your cologne.”

“Perhaps breakfast should be taken at my place then?”

She gave him a coy smile. “I suppose that could be arranged.” He passed her a plate and she pulled out two forks and handed one to him. His touch lingered a half-second too long and she met his intense gaze as he leaned back against the tree. Lunch remained a quiet affair, both of them complimented Hilda’s excellent cooking but otherwise enjoyed the companionable silence while the warm summer breeze rustled the branches above them.

She set her finished plate aside and slipped her shoes off, closing her eyes. The warm sunshine and the feel of grass on her toes took her back to her summers at the Academy. She didn’t get to enjoy the warm weather often with everything going on at the mortuary and with Sabrina. Setting his own plate to the side, he admired her sitting in the dappled light with a content smile on her face. Her eyes opened and caught him staring.

“What?”

“Nothing.” But she knew that half-smile, it was something.

She moved closer to him demurely until she was right up against him. “Tell me.” Her voice sounded silky soft in his ear.

He brushed her hair back and tilted her head up. “You are so beautiful, Zelda.” She smiled brightly for him and he pressed a tender kiss against her lips. When he pulled back, he gave her a genuine smile, a rare look for him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she rested her head on his shoulder, both taking in the view of the field and the surrounding woods.

She nestled in closer to him. “I don’t want to go back to my desk,” she sighed. “We should have brought our grading out here.” The thought of going back to sitting in her windowless office dampened her good mood. He couldn’t agree more.

He held up the hand that had previously rested on her thigh and the stack of papers and her pen from her desk appeared. Though her smile disappeared when he took his arm from around her and started on his own stack. Refocusing on her work she leaned against him for a few essays but eventually laid down on the blanket and used his lap as a pillow. Careful not to disturb her he pulled his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. As he read through students’ papers, he lightly ran his fingers through her long tresses. Occasionally she would write over a student’s paper and on a few, it looked like there were more red markings than actual writing.

Finally, she set down her last paper. “Done.” The stack and her pen disappeared back to her office. He glanced down at the small stack he had left.

“I don’t suppose you would like to grade demonology exams?” She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her stomach. “I will take that as a no.” She hummed and her lips twitched into a small smile. She fell asleep to the sound of his pen scratching on paper.

He woke her a short while later by running a knuckle along her cheek. “Zelda, I finished.” She sleepily blinked up at him and smiled.

“We officially made it through another year.”

He held up the bottle of wine. “Care to celebrate?”

“You read my mind.” She got up to get the glasses and he groaned in protest at the loss of contact. “Relax I am coming right back.” He took the glasses from her and filled them. Before she sat back down he spread his legs slightly and instead of sitting beside him she sat between his legs. She relaxed against him and sipped on the sweet wine.

“What a beautiful day,” she remarked as two deer poked their way along at the corner of the clearing.

“It most certainly is.” He wrapped an arm around her middle and placed a distracting kiss on her neck. Careful not to spill her wine she turned and he kissed her slowly. Her eyes closed and she made no effort to hasten the kiss, its lazy pace allowing her to enjoy the taste of his lips. When he pulled back so they could get some air his forehead rested against hers.

"Remind me to thank Hilda." Zelda smiled and thought the same thing as she pulled him towards her to continue the kiss.

[friendlytikek]

Good Together (1/1)

On AO3.

Summary: In the seven months Charles has been dating Erik, he can’t recall a time when Lorna has been sick enough for Erik to use sad face emojis and to refuse to allow the babysitter to look after her. Like a good boyfriend, he decides to go over and help out.

Today, 3:03 PM

From: Erik

Lorna’s sick ☹ Could we rearrange tonight? Promise I’ll make it up to you x

I don’t want to leave her with the sitter like this.

The moment the text comes through, Charles feels his heart twist in his chest. In the seven months he’s been dating Erik, he can’t recall a time when Lorna has been sick enough for Erik to use sad face emojis and to refuse to allow the babysitter to look after her. The sharp twist is swiftly followed by a spike of worry and he taps out his reply almost immediately.

Today, 3:05 PM

From: Charles

Of course. Is everything okay? I hope she isn’t too unwell. Do you need anything? x

It feels as if waiting for a reply to come through is a lifetime and Charles drums his fingers on his office desk. If Erik needs him, he’s not got any more classes. It’ll be easy to just get in the car and drive to Erik’s small house. Three dots appear, indicating Erik is typing. Then they stop and it’s another minute before they resume. Charles is around ninety percent certain Erik is trying to determine how much to tell him without making him worry.

Today, 3:12 PM

From: Erik

It’s not that she’s really unwell, but she won’t stop crying. I haven’t had this little sleep since she was a newborn. But I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll see you another night.

A fond smile creeps onto Charles’ face before he can stop it and a moment later, he’s packing his laptop up into its bag and tucking some essays he needs to grade in along with it. His mind is all but made up, but still, he shoots a message back to Erik, just to make sure he isn’t going to accidentally intrude.

Today, 3:14 PM

From: Charles

I might be able to help.

This time around, Erik’s response is almost immediate.

Today, 3:15 PM

From: Erik

Really?

For Erik to already be on the verge of agreeing to accepting help, Charles knows he must be having a pretty tough time. He wonders just how long Lorna has been crying for and finds his heart twisting again. Erik may be one of the most stubborn men he’s ever met, not that Charles can blame him. He’s felt Erik’s mind and knows how much he stresses about proving himself a capable father, with no mother at all in the picture.

Today, 3:17 PM

From: Charles

Yes, if you don’t mind me using my powers.

Today, 3:19 PM

From: Erik

At this point, I’ll take anything.

Only if you’re sure you want to come.

So, Lorna must have been crying for a while. The poor baby. She’s just over a year old and Charles has little to no experience with babies, but she’s had him wrapped around her little finger from the moment they first met, when Erik accidentally crashed her pushchair into the back of his leg in a café and sent hot coffee spilling down his front. God, it had hurt, but it had made Lorna giggle and Erik was so handsome that somehow Charles had found himself apologising, though they’d both accepted that in retrospect, Charles had no responsibility at all for the incident.

It was a hell of a meet-cute and Charles wouldn’t trade the last seven months for the world.

Charles picks up his bag and leaves his office, locking the door behind him. When he reaches his car, he deposits his bag onto the passenger seat before pulling his phone out again so he can tap out a reply.

Today, 3:26 PM

From: Charles

Already in my car. Do you need anything else? Anything from the pharmacy?

Whether Erik wants anything or not, Charles decides he’ll stop at the shops on the way. He starts the engine and pulls out of the car park, hearing his phone ping in his pocket as he does so. When he’s parked close to the shops nearest to Erik’s house, he opens his phone to read Erik’s reply.

Today, 3:29 PM

From: Erik

Just yourself is plenty. Thank you Charles.

It’s so Erik, Charles finds himself smiling at his phone again. He tells Erik he’ll be there in fifteen and climbs out of the car. Erik might not want anything, but a new toy might be just enough to distract Lorna and help her to get to sleep. There’s a wide selection of soft toys in the shop yet it’s the stuffed shark which catches Charles’ eye. He makes the purchase and hurries back to his car, tossing the shark onto the passenger seat next to his bag. It stares back at him, eyes wide, like it wants him to feel bad about buying Lorna another toy.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he tells the shark as he starts the engine back up again. “She’s ill. Erik won’t mind.”

The shark stares at him for the entire ten-minute drive to Erik’s house and Charles can’t bring himself to knock it onto the floor of his car. When he pulls up outside of the small house – just two bedrooms, one for Erik, one for Lorna – he picks it up and tucks it under his arm, then grabs his bag and heads for the door. Keys held in his free hand, he locks the car and pauses on the doorstep of the house. He can’t hear any crying from outside, but he distantly registers two minds. One is grumpy and not nearly as coherent as the other, which projects exhaustion so strongly Charles is almost knocked for six. That’s Erik, he knows. He’s thinking a steady stream of, Please go to sleep please go to sleep please don’t cry. It’s those three phrases on repeat, so Lorna must’ve calmed down at least somewhat since Erik first messaged.

Charles decides to go for it and pushes down on the front door handle. It’s a testament to how tired Erik is that he doesn’t even startle at the sound of the door opening. It’s just me, Charles tells him anyway, kicking off his shoes and nudging them into line with Erik’s. His bag goes down next to the console table.

Didn’t hear you come in. We’re upstairs. Lorna’s room.

So as not to disturb Lorna, Charles tiptoes up the stairs and along the hallway to Lorna’s bedroom. She isn’t asleep yet; the door is only half-open, but Charles can already hear her whimpering. He pushes the door a little further open and immediately, his heart tightens in his chest. Erik had been fairly composed over text, but just at a glance, he looks a mess. His hair is sticking up at every possible angle, there are bags under his eyes, and he looks the most bedraggled Charles has ever seen him, his clothes completely mismatched and a pair of odd socks on his feet. One of them is half hanging off his foot.

Little Lorna continues to whimper even as Charles approaches, looking as if she’s somehow been glued to Erik’s chest. After putting the shark down in her crib, Charles leans up and presses a kiss to Erik’s temple. “Hey. You look exhausted,” he whispers, before reaching for one of Lorna’s green curls. She whimpers again and turns away, burying her face in Erik’s chest.

“I am,” Erik sighs, one hand rubbing up and down Lorna’s back. “It’s just Charles,” he murmurs to her, tilting his head downwards to make sure she hears the words. He glances up at Charles again, eyes full of exhaustion and apologies. “She’s really clingy right now. I’m sorry.”

Charles brings his hand down to cover Erik’s and Lorna sniffles into her dad’s chest. “That’s okay. You hold her then and I’ll work my magic,” he says, lifting his free hand to Lorna’s temple. She tries to shift away again but doesn’t resist for very long. He gently hushes her and closes his eyes, reaching into her mind. It’s more a case of soothing her rather than forcing her to fall asleep and when he opens his eyes again, the whimpering has eased away, and Lorna’s eyelids are drooping sleepily.

Already, Erik’s shoulders are slumping with relief, but neither of them dares to move yet. After a few agonising minutes, Lorna seems to be deeply asleep and slowly, carefully, Erik shifts to the crib and places her down. He eyes the shark and gives Charles a knowing look as he tucks it in next to her, then bends down and presses a kiss to Lorna’s forehead. When he straightens up again, Charles realises his hands are shaking, probably from having carried Lorna around for so long.

Wordlessly, Charles takes one of his hands and tugs him out of the room. When they’re on the landing, he wraps his arms around Erik and pushes himself up on tiptoe so he can finally kiss Erik properly. The door clicks shut behind them and it’s only after a few long moments Charles pulls away. “You’re such a good dad, you know,” he murmurs, picking up worry and doubt at the very edges of Erik’s mind. “You can’t help that she’s sick.”

Erik laughs weakly. “I feel like a pretty shit dad,” he admits, so brutally open it catches Charles by surprise. Usually Erik’s emotions are locked tightly under layers of impenetrable metal, meant for nobody to access except himself. “She cried for so long last night. She’s been crying for hours today. There were maybe two, three hours of sleep in the middle of that.”

“She’s a baby,” Charles says, reaching up to cup Erik’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “She wanted her dad. She doesn’t understand this whole ‘needing sleep’ thing properly yet. You did a really wonderful job.”

“But she wouldn’t have gone down at all if you weren’t here,” Erik says, rubbing at his eyes and sighing, before leaning into Charles’ touch and closing his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired.”

Charles smiles at him and drops his hand so he can tug Erik towards his bedroom. “Now it’s your turn to sleep,” he says, squeezing his hand and pushing open the door. The curtains are already shut, so he guides him to the bed, switches on the lamp, and pushes him gently to sit down, then to lie down. “If Lorna wakes up, I’ll get her. It’s okay to ask for help, Erik. I’m your boyfriend. I want to help,” he assures him.

“Boyfriend makes us sound like we’re teenagers,” Erik says, snorting as he flops back onto his bed and begins working to pull the covers up around himself. “I know you don’t mind helping, but I just… it’s my job, you know?” He rubs at his eyes again and sighs. “Pushed away any help to begin with and I feel like now I have to prove I’m able to actually handle this on my own.”

“Even two parents struggle with babies,” Charles can’t help but point out, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I really do want to help. I love you and I love Lorna. If you need help, there’s no shame in asking for it.”

Erik gives him a small smile and pats the empty space next to himself. “Stay with me?” he asks simply.

Not needing asking twice, Charles climbs across to the opposite side of the bed and lies down. “I mean it,” he says.

“I know you do,” Erik murmurs, rolling onto his side so he and Charles can look each other in the eyes. “And I’m really grateful you came over. Most people would’ve run a mile in the other direction.”

“Not me,” Charles says, beaming back at him. “I think I’m in this for the long-haul. I’m far too attached to you both.”

With a chuckle, Erik rolls back and shakes his head. “We’re pretty attached to you, too.” His eyes close and his entire body relaxes, the tension seeping out of him completely.

He goes so quiet, Charles is certain he’s immediately fallen asleep. He’s about to pull his phone out of his pocket to read some random threads on Reddit and scroll through Twitter when Erik speaks again.

“You should move in with us.”

His voice is sleepy and quiet but there’s nothing else he could’ve possibly said. Charles’ eyes go wide and his mouth drops open as he fumbles for a response. “Maybe when you’ve had some more sleep and a chance to think on it properly…” he starts.

Erik shakes his head and his eyes pop open again. “Charles, I love you. You love Lorna, you spoil her rotten. She loves you. We get along great even if our debates about politics can get heated,” he says, his voice gradually growing in confidence. He rolls onto his side again. “What have we got to lose? We’re good together.”

They are. They really are. Charles has never been happier – Raven comments on it all the time. Hell, even his fellow staff members have picked up on it. Being with Erik fills him with a warmth nothing else has even come close to and, he supposes, his apartment does feel horribly lonely, most days. Most days he just wants to be with Erik.

He swallows and then nods. “Yeah. We are,” he whispers, looking right back at Erik. He manages another nod. “Okay then. Let’s do it.”

Erik’s mouth transforms into the biggest grin Charles has ever seen on another person. The lamp switches off with a flick of his hand and Charles hears him turning over again, then he shuffles closer to Charles. Warm arms wrap around him and Charles can’t help but curl into Erik’s touch, closing his eyes and breathing in his scent.

“You don’t worry about what people might think?” he whispers into the dark. “That I’m trying to replace Susanna?”

“No,” Erik says firmly, pressing a kiss to Charles’ neck. “You know I don’t care what anyone else thinks. She walked out. It’s been a year, Charles. And so what if you were replacing her? You’ve been more of a parent to Lorna than she ever was.” He pauses, then starts to add, sounding worried, “Not that I want you to move in to be a co-parent. That’s not why I’m asking you to move in.”

“I know you’re not,” Charles quickly says, rubbing Erik’s arm. “I understand. I want to move in. I really do.”

There’s the distinct sound of Erik taking in a deep breath. “Then let’s do it. Let’s just do it,” he says.

“As soon as possible,” Charles agrees. Erik’s grip around his waist tightens, just a little. The joy in the room is almost overwhelming, but Charles likes it. More than that, he loves how happy they make on another. There’s no way he’d change a thing.

.x.x.x.

Two weeks later, and one week after Charles moves in, they have a good routine going.

It might, he thinks, as he watches Erik pull faces at Lorna, trying to convince her peas and carrots are good enough to eat, be time to start looking for a ring.

Also on AO3.

[girls-scenarios]

Love and Relaxation

Idol: Heejin (Loona)

Prompt: Hi~ Could it be LOONA's Heejin scenario: she comforts the s/o about studies and suggests a cute little trip to nearest city to relax? (Can it be mainly focused on the trip?) Thank you so much!❤

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I need this type of vacation right now and I’m sure a lot of you can relate. I hope this gives you all strength during this midterms season!

♡ Tip Jar♡

You were tired. Heejin could see it written all over your face, even if you tried your best to be energetic whenever she saw you. The sleepiness came through your voice over the phone, and you yawned more than usual, staring off into space before snapping out of it. You talked to her a little bit about your studies, and she knew how hard you were working to get your degree, but you rarely told her about how tired you were feeling, especially since you knew she was working hard too. But now, she had been given a break, and you were still working as hard as ever. Midterms were coming up, and Heejin felt bad that she could do nothing to help you.

You had just called her to chat, laughing about leaving your lunch at home because you were so tired as you left, and she bit her lip. “Would you like me to bring you some food and coffee?” She asked, holding the phone close to her ear and standing to her feet. Your campus wasn’t too far from her....

“You don’t have to do that, babe,” you said, and she smiled, even though you couldn’t see her.

“I want to, though. It’s not like I’m doing anything else right now.” You let out a little laugh on the other end.

“Alright, then. Seeing you and eating something you made does sound good right now.”

“How much time do you have before your next class starts?”

“Like an hour and a half now.”

“Okay, that’s enough time. I’ll throw something together and be there soon.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m in the library in one of the study rooms, call me when you get here.”

“See you soon, love you.”

“I love you too.” The line went dead, and she rolled her shoulders. It was time to get to work.

A little while later and she had a cutely packed lunch and coffee in hand, walking towards the library. Hyunjin had teased her as she left that she was being wife material, and the idea made her blush to her ears, but she couldn’t say that it didn’t make her happy.

You were tucked in the back of the library, head buried in your books when she found you. You looked a little bit like a mess, but a cute mess, and she walked over to gently put a hand on your shoulder, making you take out your earbuds and look up at her.

“Food’s here.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m starving.” You shoved your books to the other end of the table and moved your bag so that she could sit down beside you, yawning slightly. She placed the food and coffee in front of you as she sat down.

“Good thing I came then. I wouldn’t want my baby to starve to death.” You let out a little laugh as you began to dig in, and Heejin took a look at the books strewn across the table. Textbooks mixed with research books and your notes lay with scattered notes stuck inside, and way too many of them said “study!!” Wincing, she looked back at you. “How many more tests do you have this week?”

“Four, and an essay. My other test and essay were last night, so at least my professors thought to mix it up a little bit.” She nodded, reaching over to rub your arm.

“You’re incredible, (Y/N). I think my brain would explode reading all of these.”

“I feel like my brain is about to explode,” you said with a laugh, but even the laugh sounded stressed as you leaned into her touch. “Honestly, I’m stressing out a lot, and I can’t wait for spring break. I feel like I might collapse at any minute.” She frowned and took you into her arms, checking your forehead to make sure you weren’t getting sick.

“Don’t say that.... Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head slightly.

“No, just this is enough. It’s really nice to be able to talk to you.”

As she left the library, she couldn’t help but feel a little down. You were so stressed and tired, and she hated seeing you like that. If only she could do something to help....

“Just make their spring break awesome,” Hyunjin suggested when Heejin confided in her. “If their tired, book, like, a spa day or something. Take them to some hot springs and feed them lots of yummy food.”

“A trip! Wait, that’s a good idea, Hyunjin.”

“I’m full of them, obviously.” Heejin rolled her eyes at her best friend and pulled out her phone to Google vacation towns near her. Immediately, tons of spots popped up, and she could feel herself grinning.

“Thanks, Hyunjin. I’m going to take (Y/N) on the most relaxing trip of their lives.”

-

When Saturday finally rolled around, Heejin was so excited that she hardly slept. Even wrapped up in your arms, since you’d come over after your last test to spend the night, she found herself wide awake, thinking about the trip. So it was no surprise that she was up and packing everything into the car when you woke up.

“Since when are you an early riser?” You asked from her bedroom door, grinning sleepily and rubbing your eyes. She just laughed from where she was making you breakfast at the stove and turned around to wink at you.

“See? I told you this was going to be special.” You padded over to her from the bedroom and wrapped your arms around her waist, and she leaned back into you. “Did you catch up on some lost sleep?”

“A little bit. One night isn’t going to make up for a month’s worth of lost sleep though.”

“That’s what this trip is for, then,” she said, turning around slightly to give you a quick kiss as she pulled the eggs from the stove. “I already got all your things in the car. All you have to worry about is eating breakfast and getting ready to go.”

“Wow, what an amazing girlfriend you are,” you said, joking around, but there was sincerity in your voice that made her beam, proud of herself.

“I try. Now let’s hurry and eat breakfast so we can get this relaxation trip on the road!”

The town wasn’t very far away, just a bit further away from the hustle and bustle from the city, but after about thirty minutes of singing along with her to her “iconic girl groups” playlist, you were passed out, head pressed against the window.

“Wow, you were so tired,” she said quietly, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your eyes before turning down the music. With a smile, she turned her eyes back to the road, nodding her head along to the muted beat of her playlist.

There was only an hour or two more to go. She could stay awake on her own, as long as it meant you catching up on much-needed sleep.

About an hour and a half later, she unbuckled her seat belt and reached over to gently shake your shoulder. “(Y/N), baby, wake up, we’re here.” You jumped a little and blinked sleepily, looking around.

“Woah, did I sleep the whole time?”

“Yes, but it’s okay, you needed it.” She grinned and playfully ruffled your hair before climbing out of the car and breathing in the fresh air. Out here, away from the city, the air was much cleaner.

“This place is beautiful,” you said as you climbed out, looking around in awe and running your fingers through your now-messy hair. “How did you find this place?”

“Lots of Googling. I wanted to find a place near a hiking trail and good picnic spots, but they even have hot springs here so it’s a perfect hit.” 

The hotel itself was gorgeous, made of beautiful stones and wood that perfectly accented the woods and lakes around it. It looked old and rustic, and as soon as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted warmly by a jukebox quietly playing old hits and a rustic, yet new and updated, interior. A fireplace blazed in the corner, and although it was getting warmer outside, it still felt nice. After a talking to the girl at the front desk for a couple of moments, the two of you had a key and were headed up to the third floor.

“I got a suite,” she said as the two of you walked down the hall, “wait until you see it.”

The room was gorgeous, rustic yet sleek, and the two of you stepped in with wide eyes. A small kitchen greeted the two of you with darkened wood cabinets and speckled granite counter tops that led to bar seating opposite the sink. Plush carpet lined the floor after the kitchen, and the two of you kicked your shoes off as you walked deeper inside, taking in the tan and brown couch and chairs across from a fireplace and a large tv.

“There’s even a balcony,” you said, dropping your bag to walk over and open the balcony door. It look out over the woods, and the two of you could just hear the sound of the hot springs bubbling somewhere down below. Two chairs sat on the balcony, along with a small table, and you turned to smile at her. “We have to eat out here at least once.” Beaming with happiness, she nodded.

“That sounds wonderful.”

The bedroom was just as beautiful as the rest of the suite, with white and tan sheets and blankets covering the giant bed and a rustic wooden bed frame. A huge closet was at one side and a tv was mounted across from the bed, with a large window letting in natural light beside it. You fell into the bed as Heejin moved over to open the door to the bathroom and let out a gasp. The bathroom was huge too, with a Jacuzzi tub, large shower, and a long counter top with two sinks and plenty of towels.

“I feel like a rich girl,” she joked, taking down one of the beautiful robes to look it over.

“No kidding. How did you manage to book this place?”

“Lots of Googling,” she said again, coming out of the bathroom with the robe tied on over her clothes and posing against the doorjamb. “What do you think?” You burst into laughter when you rolled over to look at her, sitting up.

“You look cute,” you said, standing to join her in the bathroom. “Wow, we could just stay in here and never leave.”

“Yeah, but don’t you want to go down and experience the hot springs?” The two of you looked at each other for a moment, before both of you grinned and you reached up to grab your robe.

“Race you to get changed!” Both of you rushed out of the bathroom to find your bags, rummaging through them in an attempt to get your swim suits before the other person. Heejin beat you to the bathroom and locked herself inside, making you groan. “Hey, no fair!”

“Get changed out there, then!” When she opened the door again, her hair was tied up and she was once again wrapped in her robe, wiggling her eyebrows. “You ready, slowpoke?”

“Of course I’m ready, cheater,” you replied a laugh, tying on your robe. “Let’s go.”

The hot springs weren’t the largest she’d ever seen, but they were pretty big, and the steam coming off them made her raise her eyebrows. “Ooh, so pretty.”

“You really found a gem out here,” you said, looking around at the foliage as you hung up your robe.

“I’m glad you like it. I tried my best.” She stepped in first, wincing and splashing you when you laughed. “You can’t tease me out here, or I’ll take you home!”

“Oh, will you?” You climbed in with her, a smug look on your face, and she noticed how energized you looked already. Of course she wouldn’t take you home.

“You’re lucky this place doesn’t do refunds, you brat.”

After soaking in the hot springs for a while, until her fingers began prune-y and you looked like you might fall asleep in the pool, the two of you headed back up to the room.

“Room service time,” she said, skipping over to the phone with the menu beside it. “I heard they make amazing pastas here, is that okay with you?”

“Sounds great to me,” you replied as you headed to the bedroom, sending her a thumbs-up. “Dibs on the shower!” She rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she picked up the phone and dialed the number on the menu. Everything was going great so far.

The night ended with the two of you eating pasta in bed in your pj’s, watching some of your favorite cartoons until you yawned and leaned your head on her shoulder, drifting off. For a little while, she let the cartoons run, enjoying being so close to you, before eventually she turned off the tv and put away the pasta bowls. When she climbed back into bed, she pressed a little kiss to your forehead, promising that tomorrow would be even better.

-

The rest of the trip went so smoothly that Heejin found herself never wanting to go back. The hot springs were wonderful, but so were the hiking trails. The lake nearby was beautiful to sit beside and look at, and the two of you had a picnic there, eating slowly and admiring the view as you just talked and relaxed. The trails weren’t so hard that they were exhausting, and it was nice just to walk around, pointing out the different types of wildlife and trying to find giant pine cones to take home. At one point, you even found a flower, early in bloom, and jokingly got down on one knee to give it to her. She wore it behind her ear for the rest of the day, gently touching it and smiling whenever your back was turned.

She watched as the dark circles disappeared from your eyes, watched as you laughed freely and as your shoulders became less tense. Even at the cute drive-in movie theater, she found herself watching you a little more than the screen, although that was kind of normal for her. She just loved you that much. When the two of you ate dinner on the balcony, watching as the sun set, she couldn’t help leaning over to kiss you. You tasted like the Pho that the two of you had picked up on the way back to the hotel, and she took in the dusting of a blush on your cheeks, hardly visible in the dim evening light.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The last day was the spa day, and she woke up not wanting to leave. Even if she wanted to go to the spa, she knew the two of you would have to leave early the next morning, and that thought made her not want to get up and go. You were already awake, a first for the trip, reading the book you’d brought along because “you needed to read more for fun instead of school”, and she whined as she rolled over, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I don’t want to get up.”

“Then don’t,” you said, smiling down at her and running your fingers through her messy hair. She yawned and closed her eyes, nuzzling into your stomach.

“Let’s just stay here forever.” You let out a chuckle.

“I wish we could, but I don’t think either of us could afford that.”

“Yeah. I still wish time would stop.”

“Me too.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirping outside the window, before you cleared your throat, making her open her eyes to look up at you. “Hey, thanks for this trip. I really needed it. I was so stressed and tired, but now I feel rejuvenated. Like I can do anything when we get back. I don’t want to leave either, it’s been that great.” She smiled and reached up to lovingly pat your cheek.

“You’re welcome. I did all of this for you.”

“But did you enjoy yourself too?”

“Of course!” She sat up, climbing into your lap as you placed your book on the bedside table. “This has been the best trip of my life, I’m telling you. We should make this a tradition.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows and wrapped your arms around her, and she nodded.

“Really. Why don’t we do a little mini vacation for spring and fall breaks from now on?” A grin spread over your face.

“That actually sounds incredible. I’d love to do that, but you have to let me plan some too.”

“Sounds like a deal. Seal it with a kiss?” You laughed, and warmth filled her body as you leaned in to kiss her, pulling her closer. In a few hours, the two of you had to be up and ready for a spa day. But for right now, the two of you had nothing to do and nowhere to go, alone together to do whatever your hearts desired, and it was everything that she’d wanted it to be: perfect.

[shinwnn]

just friends au jimin

summary: basically you and jimin are the cutest best friends ever and youd be a perfect couple and he sees that and you kinda see that but you don’t wanna be in a relationship rn (why?? i dunno what r u thinking)

you’ve been studying all night for your finals tmrw and at 3 am you finally decide to go to bed 

you check your phone before going to sleep and see a message jimin sent you 4 hours earlier 

“power through!! this test is going to be a piece of cake for you”

with whatever energy you had left, you tried to type out a message

 but your eyes were already half way closed at this point so it came out like

“thsnkd jimn ilovek u good mnigjt“

and as soon as the text goes out you cringe a little bc jimin has been your best friend for years and yes, you love him, but a few weeks ago when he asked if you guys could be more than friends you rejected him

so this sleepy “ilovek u” felt like you were taunting him 

when you get a text back though, you let out a breath you didnt know you were holding bc jimin doesn’t seem to notice at all

“don’t stay up so late next time okay? you need to take care of yourself. good luck on the test! :~) ily2” 

you smiled to yourself and cuddled up against a stuffed polar bear he won you at the carnival a few months ago before you fell asleep with the warmest feeling in the world

(one that you’ve noticed that only your best friend can bring you for some reason)

what you don’t know is how hard it was for jimin to type out that last text

he was in the practice room working on his piece for his big national dance competition and was beating himself up over not being able to do a small part as good as he wanted to

but all the anger, stress & frustration he was building up faded away when he saw you had texted him

and when he saw your poor attempt at an “i love you” his heart fluttered but immediately dropped

last week, while you guys were at your favorite cafe doing homework (which you guys always did at least twice a week), jimin looked up from his essay to see you staring so intently at a math problem and he couldn’t help but just smile and be overwhelmed with love

he is just SO fond of u and he shows you that everyday with how much he cares about you but it hurts him that he hasn’t been able to tell you that he loves u as so much more

and he had known that he liked you as more than a friend right when you started hanging out

but something about that moment with you sitting across from him, ur messy hair, tired eyes and all, he just wants to tell u that it doesn’t matter how many dancing competitions he doesn’t place at, or how many sleepless nights he spends practicing bc you make everything good. you’re comfortable for him and you’re home to him and he loves you

and while this is all going through his head he’s just looking at you

when u look up from your work and meet his gaze you raise your eyebrows at him and look at him expectantly bc he seems like he REALLY wants to say something right now

you: what?

jimin: what?

you: you look like you have something really important to say

jimin: i just can’t stop thinking about the fact that alaska has more caribou than people. it’s just so ......fascinating

and you roll your eyes but you can’t help but laugh bc jimin’s face is lit up and seeing you laugh just makes him smile even more and you can’t help but wonder if this is the world’s brightest smile

but still, you know your best friend well and you know that jimin’s joking to cover up what’s really on his mind, so you keep pushing him to tell you

and he doesn’t want to, mostly because he’s really afraid of what happens next

you turn your attention back to your work, knowing that he’ll break eventually

but what you don’t expect is how quickly he does

bc hearing your laugh and watching you wrinkle your nose in the cutest way he’s ever seen gave him a sudden boost of confidence 

so he leans forward across the table and quietly says

“hey... i like you.. a lot”

you look up again, wide eyed, and see how hopeful he looks and you just... freeze

bc ofc you’ve thought about this. 

ofc everytime jimin walked you home or stayed up late to listen to you rant or brought you lunch when he knew you weren’t eating enough you’ve thought about what an amazing boyfriend he’d be

and everytime you guys can tell what the other is thinking through just a look, or laugh for hours at a joke no one though was funny, you’ve thought about the fact that maybe you’ll never find anyone as perfect for you as jimin

but you’ve also thought about that fact that you didn’t feel like either of you were in a good place for a relationship

you were both busy with school, jimin was always overwhelmed with dance practices and competition training,  and you’ve been trying to balance your current job with interview after interview for a better one

mostly, you knew how important dancing was to jimin as a part of his future and you wanted him to focus on that.

 you came to terms with the fact that you’d only be a distraction, and that no matter how much it might hurt whenever you pulled out of a hug before it got too long, or broke eye contact when you saw how much love there was in his eyes, you knew that in the long run, this was what would be best for him

right?

in that moment, with him looking at you so warmly you wanted so much to intertwine your fingers with his and tell him that yes!! you liked him too!! so much!! 

but instead you said

“yeah jimin, i know. i like you too, that’s why we’re friends.”

you tried to keep a light, casual tone in your voice and smiled weakly at him before throwing yourself back into your work

jimin’s smile faded and he paused a little from shock of what happened before shaking his head and tugging on  your sweater so you’d look back up at him

“no, no, not like that. i mean- yes like that. i do like you as a friend. but also more than that. you know? like i like you a lot more than that. as like, a girlf-”

he was nervously rambling and he still hadn’t let go of your sweater

you cut him off “right, friends. you’re a really good friend jimin. my best friend. you know i really appreciate that right?”

and in the way that you guys have always been able to read each other, jimin knew that this was your way of saying no

he slowly let go of your sweater and leaned back into his chair

you refused to look up from your assignment, but if you did you would’ve seen a heartbroken boy going over and over in his head about what he possible could’ve done wrong

by the time you guys left the cafe to get dinner together, you were both talking like normal again, there was an unspoken agreement to pretend like nothing had happened

but it was impossible

and that’s why when jimin reads your text, he rereads it 20 times and types out “i love you too” before deleting it and retyping it 20 times 

and he finally settles on a simple ily2, but still his finger hovers over the send button before he finally presses it

back to the morning of your test, you wake up at 7 and check your phone, smiling to see a text from jimin.

“morning! i’ll be over at in 15 with breakfast.”

you sigh and close your eyes, thinking what you did to deserve this boy as your friend

after rolling out of bed and starting to get ready, your doorbell rings and you open the door to see jimin (somehow looking amazing this early in the morning) holding two bags of food and smiling in a way that even his eyes are smiling with him

he comes in and starts to set up the food in your kitchen and he knows where everything is because he’s over practically all the time

and you’re just watching him thinking “god I’m an idiot why wouldn’t I want to date him? he’s literally perfect??”

sleepily, you walk over and ruffle his hair and look at him lovingly (but like friend lovingly (you swear)) 

and he stops arranging the plates to look back at you and was about to tell you off for messing his hair up but you’ve never looked at him like that before 

like he’s seen you look at him thankfully or with pure joy or fondly

but this is different

and when he told jin abt you and how you had rejected him, jin told him to use a pick up line when the time is right

but he doesn’t throw out a cheesy line in fear of ruining the moment so instead he says “why are you looking at me like that?”

“don’t get any ideas jimin, i’m just thankful for the food.” (nice save)

“of course! what are friends for?” he says winking at you

because right, you’re friends.

 just friends.

[astrofireworks]

while everyone is having really cute encounters i met my boyfriend by him walking into the glass door of the cafe i work at and i spent a good 10 minutes snort laughing at it while he begged me to please stop laughing at his misfortune and karma being the bitch it is had me burn my hand on his coffee and yet we somehow ended up together

i kept giggling throughout work today thinking about this okay asdhsdk this is so pure and cute but also i hope your hand is okay now!!! 

He’s so so so tired it’s wild 

It’s 6am and he just pulled two consecutive all nighters trying to finish up this damn essay 

He hates this class so much he really does it’s his worst class 

Good lord he needs coffee 

Eunwoo stumbles into his kitchen and pulls out the instant coffee packet bag 

And finds nothing 

Dammit MJ he finished Eunwoo’s instant coffee two days ago and promised to replace it 

Eunwoo pinching the bridge of his nose and trying not to cry 

Decides to put on sneakers and a hoodie and walks to the nearest cafe 

It’s nearly 6.30am by the time he meanders down to the nearest 24 hour cafe, sleepily rubbing his eyes and pulling his sleeves over his palms 

Bin’s cleaning up the counter thank god it’s the end of the last night shift of the week 

It’s only half an hour more before Jinjin comes in for the morning shift and Rocky and Bin can go home 

He’s so exhausted 

I mean it’s partially his fault for not napping before his shift but it was because Rocky wanted to go queue for Wanna One posters and he couldn’t just abandon his Rock

I mean he could but 

You know

His Rock currently being sprawled out on a chair near the kitchen and snoring away 

There never is anyone at the asscrack of dawn anyway so Bin just usually uses the time to work on essays 

And so he’s in the middle of sitting down to write the next part of his essay when 

A large shapeless pink blob bangs into the glass door of the cafe 

Bin looks up

Rocko falls off his chair 

Large Shapeless Pink Blob wobbles slightly away from the window, cursing in pain

He really thought it was a push door 

:( 

Poor baby

And Bin can’t help it he starts laughing 

It happens several times every day, someone accidentally banging into what’s meant to be a pull door 

But at 6.30am? In the largest, softest, most pastel pink hoodie Bin has ever seen? 

Bin thinks this is funnier than everything put together 

Especially now that the Large Shapeless Pink Blob is wobbling around near the door trying to push it open

Bin trying to subdue his snorts when Pink Blob finally tumbles into the cafe 

Rocky rubbing his eyes sleepily and greeting Pink Blob while Bin tries stopping his giggles by avoiding looking at Pink Blob

Not working

When Rocky relays his order Bin accepts it with a nod, a snort and a stray giggle 

Dammit Bin get yourself under control please !!!!!

Bin slowly making a latte, double extra shot 

What Bin Assumes is the Large Shapeless Pink Blob: “Ah, I guess this doesn’t very often, does it?“ 

Bin, trying to avoid all eye contact because we all know he’ll burst out laughing: "Nah it happens pretty often, about twice a day." 

Pink Blob, slightly hurt: "Ah then, what makes mine so funny?" 

Bin, distractedly wondering if all angels have scratchy voices in the middle of the night too: "You’re in a very fluffy pink hoodie?" 

Oops 

An accidental snort 

And that’s it the gates are open Bin starts giggling again 

Eunwoo sighing because wow on one hand it really isn’t funny!!!!! He was just unfortunate !!!!!!!! And very sleep deprived!!!! 

But also on the other hand this boy is really cute and he’s especially cute laughing 

Eunwoo might actually melt if he keeps giggling like this 

Because his eyes scrunch up and his nose does a wiggle every time he snorts 

Eunwoo blushing because wow he usually doesn’t notice this much about someone !!!!!!

Must be the lack of caffeine 

"Ahhh it’s really not that funny please stop laughing!!" 

But he’s smiling as he says it and Bin can hear the smile in his delicate ring of a voice and 

He can’t help it 

More giggling 

Rocky staring like Bin that’s no way to treat a customer!!!!! 

Until he looks up and Pink Blob is smiling to himself, mildly embarrassed too

Not so much smiling to himself as 

Smiling

At Bin

Rocky squints 

Wow this man looks Very Attractive 

Very Bin’s type, if he says so himself, 

Rocky reaching over to whack Bin because there’s no way he’s letting Bin let this one escape !!!!!

A good Rock, this one is, 

Bin sobering up after being whacked on the ass with a tea towel

Finally looking up at whoever this latte is for 

Jaw dropping slightly open 

Because wow 

The shapeless pink blob? 

Looks like an angel

Well, an angel shrouded in a large pink hoodie 

Looking very Boyfriend and huggable indeed 

Bin flushing red because wow he just spent the last five minutes snorting and giggling ungracefully 

In front of the most beautiful smiling angel he’s ever seen 

Rip Bin 

Ohhhhh rippy rip 

Eunwoo wondering if there’s something on his face 

Does he really look that bad??? 

Because coffee boy was giggling really cutely just a minute before but the moment he looked up

His face just collapsed

Eunwoo touching his chin nervously because did he forget to shave?? 

Bin blushing and looking down and wow thanks way to mess up this one Moon Bin !!!!!! 

And looking down and realising

He’s over-filling the Angel Blob’s coffee cup with milk

Steaming hot milk

O shit 

Bin yelping as milk sloshes over the side of the cup 

Bin crying a bit because the heart he was making is more or less a blob now

Eunwoo being worried !!!!!! 

And reaching over the counter to check on Bin’s hand !!!! 

Bin being alarmed because his hand just got slightly burnt by spilled milk but 

There’s something cool touching his hand?? 

And someone asking if he’s okay????? 

He looks up at the Angel 

Who’s just blinking and 

His hands are on Bin’s?????? 

His sweater paws?????? Are touching Bin’s hands ?????????? 

Wow his eyes are sparkling 

Wow 

And he nearly forgets the milk again but Rocky bats his hands out of the way and saves the latte 

Bless Rocky, a small voice in Bin’s head intones

The same way it intones at least five times a day 

The angel’s still laughing slightly at him as Rocky finishes up his latte 

Bin scratching his ear because wow that’s embarrassing 

Giggling at the angel before getting bitten in the ass by karma 

But smiling back all the same because wow when someone smiles at you like that with beautiful eye smile and sparkling eyes and scrunched up nose 

How do you not smile back?

good lord i’m so weak 

Both gently forgetting that they’re both still

You know

Holding hands 

Until Rocky gently sets down a latte cup on the counter and not-so-gently butts Bin out of the way 

To make his own damn cup of coffee because dammit he needs something to hold too 

:c 

Bin still blushing!!!!!!! And mumbling something about letting Eunwoo sit down 

Eunwoo sitting down and finally (finally!!!!!) sipping his damn latte 

Because wowee he’s so caffeine deprived it’s honestly ????? How is he even still functional 

Eunwoo glancing up at the counter at Bin every few seconds

Bin grinning and glancing down and 

!!! Lovesick teenager that’s what I call this 

Rocky slapping Bin with the tea towel for the second time in 10 minutes and motioning to the muffin display case 

Small voice in Bin’s head thanking & blessing Rocko 

Bin grabbing a warm muffin and depositing it on Eunwoo’s table 

To see Eunwoo’s bright beam of thanks 

Bin thinks he might weep 

Eunwoo gently touching Bin’s hand, slightly red from the burn 

Both of them expecting Eunwoo to say something like "oh are u ok" 

Eunwoo surprising himself when the first thing he says is "lmao karma bitch" 

Bin: !!!!!!!

Bin, tugging at Eunwoo’s sweater paws: "well yeah if I weren’t so distracted by you being all cute and beautiful" 

Wow Bin where did that come from 

Rocky sipping his latte and snorting 

Eunwoo coming home at 7.30 with an empty cup of coffee and a number scribbled on his palm 

Eunwoo cheerily thanking MJ for finishing his instant coffee 

MJ: ????????

same mj???????

[winkinglester]

Run, Baby, Run

*sequel to Tech Yes, Juliet*

summary: dan and phil’s relationship is a secret until it isn’t, which is bad because they’re in feuding majors at their university

word count: 4.2k

genre: fluff 

warnings: slight angstë?? also swearing

a/n: IT’S FINALLY HERE! i have gotten so many requests to do a sequel to tech yes and i finally gave in and this took 48 years but w/e. ps don’t ask what sport the feud games are bc i don't know

Their library make-out sessions were becoming a normal thing. Phil would have Dan pushed up against the historical fiction shelf, kissing him like there was no tomorrow, smiling at the little groans and pants Dan makes when he’s turned on. They were never worried about getting caught since who the fuck reads historical fiction anyways?

“Hey,” Dan had said. It was the first time Phil brought Dan back there to their current make-out spot, and Dan got upset when he learned as to why. “I read historical fiction.”

“You must be the only one,” Phil had said, leaning in closer to Dan. Dan laughed into their kiss.

The memory had Phil smiling into their current kiss. Quiet voices nearby, however, interrupted them.

“Shh,” Dan whispered suddenly, pulling away from Phil. “Someone’s coming.” Phil leaned back from Dan and smoothed out his shirt, trying to erase any evidence that anything had just happened. Ehem.

Two girls passed by the front of the isle just as Dan had dropped to the ground, pretending to be searching for a book in the bottom shelf. They didn’t give the boys more than half of a glance.

As soon as they had passed, Phil gave a silent breath of relief. “God, why do we have to keep it a secret, Dan? It’s so tiring.”

Dan looked up at Phil through tired eyes. “You know why. We would never hear the end of it if we came out. ‘Wait, you two are dating? I thought you were in feuding majors!’ And then there’s my parents…” He said this sounding slightly exasperated, causing Phil to back off.

“I know, I know, I just…I don’t want to keep us a secret forever, I guess,” Phil said, reaching down to help Dan up.

Dan sighed, climbing back on to his feet. He left his hands in Phil’s. “I understand, Phil, and I swear someday we can shout it from the rooftops. I won’t depend on my parents anymore, so it won’t matter what they think. I’m gonna kiss you in front of a million bajillion people. I swear.”

Phil smiled. “Million bajillion isn’t an actual number, you know.”

“I’m a tech major, Mr. English.”

“I won’t forget that any time soon.”

--

Ever since the day Phil figured out who his secret admirer was, they had salvaged every moment they had together, from cheeky hand squeezes in the empty halls to suggestive glances in busy classrooms.

Dan and Phil only struggled somewhat to keep their relationship private. The only person they had told was Dan’s roommate Charlie, who couldn’t care less. They hadn’t told PJ yet since he wasn’t in the dorm much in general. He was usually out with a girlfriend, or something.

Phil was pretty sure that nobody else knew, or was suspicious, because nobody had ever asked him about Dan. Really, though, why would they? Dan was a tech major, and Phil was an English major. The only thing about them that overlapped was that they had the same taste in music. They were polar opposites, and yet that’s what made them such a good couple.

--

Scattered, passionate screams filled the air. A few hundred people had turned up for the feud game, which was small considering it was the biggest game of the year. Techies would play the English majors, which was usually a pretty fair fight. (There was always some bias since the referee majored in English, but that was beside the point.)

Dan smiled and looked across the field. In the other stands, alone, Phil sat. Dan knew it was Phil since everyone else seemed to care about sports, and yet one person sat alone, facing the wrong way. Plus, nobody else was that pale.

“What’re you staring at, dude?” PJ asked, slinging an arm around Dan’s shoulder. Dan’s eyes widened and he laughed nervously.

“Nothing, man, just watching the game,” Dan muttered. “Anyways, how are things with you and that girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” PJ said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re never sleeping in the dorm, I just assumed…” Dan said sheepishly.

“I don’t have a - wait. You must mean Chris,” PJ said. “Yeah, I usually spend the night at his, just since it’s usually late by the time we’re done.” PJ winked. “I gotta run, so see you later!”

“A- alright. See you,” Dan said. Who would’ve thought?

Dan stepped off the bleachers, heading towards the other side.

“Oi, Dan, where you headed?” Charlie shouted, trying to be heard above the roaring crowd.

“Concessions stand,” Dan lied.

“Right, get me a Coke!” He yelled, throwing some cash in Dan’s direction. Dan rolled his eyes and made his way towards Phil, and apparently the concessions, too.

--

Dan stood in line for the concessions, messing around on his phone mindlessly. His eyes widened as he felt a hand on his lower back.

“Guess who,” a familiar voice said.

Dan grinned. “Hey, uh, pal. How are you?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Doing good, bro.” Phil lowered his voice and leaned towards Dan. “After you get your drink, feel free to stop by the edge of the bleachers. I have something to show you.” Dan almost shivered.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, will do,” Dan stammered. Phil smirked and walked away.

Dan practically threw his money at the cashier.

After he got Charlie’s soda, Dan rushed to the bleachers. He was looking around in a totally-not-suspicious way when a quiet “Psst!” caught his attention. He turned around to see Phil peeking out from underneath the seats.

Dan laughed and walked over to his boyfriend. “Come on, Phil, tell me you’re more creative than making out under the bleachers.”

“Hush, you.”

--

Shrill alarm beeps were probably Dan’s least favorite sound. Charlie reached over and silenced the clock, but Dan could still hear them somewhere far away.

“Dan, you ready for the game tonight?” Charlie asked, climbing out of his bed.

Dan groaned sleepily, since it was barely past six am. “Maybe, but I don’t want to think about it right now!”

“Sheesh, sorry mate. Didn’t know you woke up with a stick up your ass,” Charlie responded, laughing and pulling his shoes on. “I’m off to the bathroom.” He walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Dan groaned again. He only got a few hours of sleep, thanks to the essay he spent, like, nine hours working on. Maybe it would’ve taken less time had he not left all of his revisions to the last minute, but whatever. He would try again next time.

Rolling out of bed, Dan grabbed for his phone and knocked over a glass instead, sending water across the room and all over-

“FUCK, MY LAPTOP!” Dan yelled, swiping his already shitty computer from its watery grave. He wrapped a towel around it, chanting “dab not rub, dab not rub, dab not rub” under his breath.

“Please, please, don’t be dead, I need you, I need the essay I wrote, please,” Dan whispered, pulling the towel away and pressing the power button.

The screen flashed a brief, cheerful Welcome! and proceeded to the login. Dan sighed in relief. He typed his password and pulled up Word, only to see no recent documents.

“What the hell?” Dan muttered, his typing getting frantic. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” Charlie said, reappearing from the bathroom, a toothbrush in hand.

“My essay, from last night, I spilled water, it’s gone, my essay that took like nine hours is gone, and if I don’t find it in five seconds I’m going to scream, where is it?” Dan exclaimed, eyes wide and fearful.

“Dan, Dan, relax. Don’t run so many tabs at once, you’ll crash it,” Charlie said gently, pulling the laptop away from Dan.

Dan ran his hands through his fringe, cursing under his breath. Charlie squinted and typed something on Dan’s computer, muttering to himself. After a minute, Charlie gave one final tap on the keyboard and shook his head. “I’m sorry Dan, but it’s gone.”

“Fuck, man,” Dan groaned, running his hands through his hair again. “It’s due in a few hours, there’s no way I can finish.”

“I’m sorry mate, that sucks. I gotta run, so I’ll see you later,” Charlie said, giving one last pitying glance and heading out.

Dan gathered his things and headed out a minute later, dreading the day in front of him.

--

“Mr. Howell, not your best work,” Dan’s music professor said, handing him a graded assignment with a big red F on it. Dan sighed. He knew he had done bad, but he really didn’t think he had done this bad.

With his lost essay (that he tried to redo, but only got halfway through before it was taken for a measly half grade), his somewhat-damaged laptop, and stepping in dog shit on his way here, the F on the essay was a fantastic cherry on top of Dan’s day. All he wanted was to go back to his dorm and sleep it all away, but of course he couldn’t. Great.

The class dismissed, shaking Dan from his thoughts. He grabbed his bag and stormed out the door, not caring if he bumped people on his way out. Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck today.

“Dan, wait up,” someone behind him said, panting and putting their pale hand on his shoulder. “Hey, not trying to ditch me are you?”

“Phil, not right now, I’m kind of pissed off and I just want to finish the day,” Dan muttered, shrugging Phil’s hand off his shoulder. “And stop putting your hand on my shoulder, someone’ll get suspicious.”

Phil withdrew his hand, looking stung. “Sorry, I just want to be able to touch you, even innocently. I wish we could tell people.”

“I know, I know,” Dan muttered, feeling almost embarrassed. God, why couldn’t Phil just take a hint and leave him alone for just one minute? “I’m just having a shit day and I’m really not in the mood so please just leave me be. And besides, you know why we can’t tell people.”

“Sorry, it’s just…hard. I hate having to think about every damn thing I say, Dan!” Phil said, his voice starting to raise with frustration. He tugged his boyfriend around a corner for privacy. “I can’t just hide forever. It’s been five months,” Phil finished, seeming exasperated.

Dan pulled out of Phil’s grip once again, a small voice telling him to calm down. He ignored it. “I’m just…” He took a breath. “I know. Fuck. I know. Give me time.”

With that, Dan turned and walked to his next class, leaving Phil behind him.

--

Dan rolled over again. And again. And again.

He couldn’t sleep. Tomorrow was going to be hell.

He reached over to the small cardboard box they were using as a nightstand to grab his phone. 4:27 in the morning. Great.

Dan sighed and suppressed a groan. He had so many things on his mind, why did he expect to get any sleep? Finals, his laptop, his slowly declining grades, and now Phil. He had been lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning. Dan half-slept for a blissful eight minutes, but was woken up by someone slamming their door down the hall. Damn you, drunken teenagers.

Phil would probably know how to deal with this, Dan thought. Phil would get me some tea and run his hands through my hair right now. He might still be up; I could text h-

Shit.

Dan grabbed his phone and quickly pulled up the last text he sent to Phil, from the day previous. He had forgotten to text him goodnight, something they always did.

Then again, Phil didn’t text him either.

Dan didn’t hold back his groan this time. Why did this have to happen now? All he wanted to do was sleep, make up with Phil, pass his finals, safely tell his parents he wasn’t straight…

Maybe in the morning.

--

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me?”

Dan opened one eye. Why did people want to talk this early in the morning? He barely slept last night, so today was probably going to suck ass.

“Hm?” Dan groaned, slowly picking his head off his pillow.

“I- whatever.” Charlie turned and stormed out of the room.

“What the hell…?” Dan mumbled. Probably just moody and hungover, he thought. He hoped.

Dan got ready quickly, seeing as he was about to be late. Just as he was slinging his bag over his shoulder, he grabbed his phone off the duvet.

 PHIL: we need to talk asap, call me

PHIL: dan please this is important

PHIL: meet me in the library at 9, u know where

 --

Dan sighed. He really didn’t want to talk it out with Phil, not just yet. Maybe he could ask for a little more time. Yeah, that should do it, he thought. I can ask to have time to myself, and not to worry about this right n-

“Dan, shit,” Phil said, appearing out of nowhere to stand next to Dan between the historical fiction shelves. “I’m sorry, I have no idea how this happened.”

“Phil, I don’t want to talk about this right now. What happened yester- “

“Dan, this isn’t about yesterday. We got outed. Everyone knows.”

Dan felt his heartbeat thudding in his stomach, like he was about to be sick. “What the hell? How?”

The other boy shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe someone saw us at the feud game? Under the bleachers is an awfully cliché move.”

Dan closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. Maybe, if he pretended it was a rumor, nobody would care. He could ignore it.

“But hey,” Phil said, his voice soft. “At least we don’t have to hide it anymore.”

“Phil, what the fuck? I’ve been dreading this for months now, and all you say is ‘at least it’s over with!’ Really? This is not a fucking good thing!” Dan said, his voice beginning to rise.

“Come on, you said you wanted to be out and over with, I thought you wanted this,” Phil said, his eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

Dan leaned away. “No, Phil, that’s what you wanted. I don’t care what you think, this is never going to escape us. Not only will people freak out about the stupid feud shit, but someone’s gonna tell my parents eventually. My mom’s at the head of the board, my dad’s the biggest homophobe I’ve ever met…” Dan brought his voice down. “They’re gonna kick me out and I’ll never see you again. I’ll be lucky if I can still attend school here.”

“We can work it out, I swear,” Phil pleaded. “We can talk to your parents. It doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“It already is! Whether or not we want it, this is already bad!” Dan shouted.

“Wait, are you…ashamed of us?” Phil said taking a step back. He squinted at Dan.

“Maybe!” Dan said. “Maybe I don’t want to end up being the gay kid! Maybe I don’t want my life preceded before me! Maybe, just maybe, I knew that if I got outed, all of my attempts to establish a figure would disappear because ‘who cares about him? Sure, he’s done some cool stuff, but isn’t he the gay kid?’ I can’t be minimized to a sexuality, Phil. I fucking can’t.” Dan took a breath.

“Fuck you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe there’s nothing wrong with being gay? That turns out you can actually do shit without people minimizing you?” Phil spat. “Huh? Can you manage to get that into your head? Because there is nothing you can change about yourself. Not my fault you like it up the ass.”

Dan had never seen Phil so angry before, but all reason was out the window.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m out.” Dan walked away from the shelf, before turning back around. “Literally,” he added with a bitter laugh. “See you around, maybe.”

Dan ignored Phil’s shouts behind him. His mind was made up.

--

Dan never understood how disgustingly perfect actions done on an adrenaline high were until now. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he just continued to throw random clothes into a duffle bag. He just needed a walk to clear his head. A long walk, far away from here. With almost all of his things.

Packing a sorry excuse of an overnight bag, scribbling a small note, and sprinting off college campus went by more quickly than Dan expected. Everything caught up with him, however, while he stood waiting for whatever public bus route he was standing in the way of. He just needed to clear his head. Just clearing his head.

Dan was just clearing his head when he stepped on the bus and sat down in the middle. He was only taking a break when he got off at the ninth stop, right across from his favorite childhood playground. Time went by too fast again while Dan stepped off, headed into the small forest, and walked to the only place he knew.  All he needed was to sit here, in the secret hiding spot he hadn’t touched in ten years, and think. Then, everything would be fine.

Fuck going to class, Phil, and everybody else in the world.  

--

Dan sat in the bushes behind the shutdown community park. If nobody looked too closely, Dan remained hidden from the world. He would stay here, just for a moment.  Just for long enough to catch his breath, take a break, and wrap his head around things. There was a small ditch filled with woodchips that Dan and his brother had originally used to try to save a hurt bird. The bird ended up dying.

Dan kind of felt like the bird.

After some time passed, Dan remembered that eventually, he would have to show up somewhere. Home and his dorm room weren’t options, so where?

“Shit,” Dan said to himself, putting his hands over his face as if he could shield himself from more stupid decisions. Shit shit shit.

And then, as if by miracle, Dan realized he had another option.

--

“Dan?”

The blonde haired girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, which was fair, since Dan showed up at her doorstep with little more than ‘hello’. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have to be at uni-“

“Lou, I love you, but I need you to not ask questions right now.” Dan pushed past his longtime friend, stepping into her apartment.

“Dan! You can’t just show up, unannounced, I have to…” Louise trailed off.

Dan ignored her. He knew he was being sort of an asshole, but a part of it felt justified. The worse your day was, apparently, the worse human being you could be.

“Look, I need to crash somewhere, and you’re the only person I know who won’t ask questions, just…please. Please. Not for long. I’ll be gone in two days, tops,” Dan said, dropping his duffel bag.

Louise sighed. “No questions at all?”

Dan smiled. “Not right now, but I’ll explain later.”

“Oh, fine. But if I get panicky calls from Phil, which I know will happen, what do I tell him?”

“Tell him…I’m clearing my head. Thank you, Louise.” Dan hugged his friend, who hugged him back cautiously.

--

Dan turned on the shower in Louise’s apartment. He stepped in, letting the water scald his skin. The water pressure was so much better here than at the shitty dorm bathrooms. Other than the heat, he couldn’t feel anything, not really. He wasn’t sad, or mad. He was just tired. He scrubbed his skin until it was red and raw, and then he scrubbed some more. He almost laughed despite himself when he borrowed Louise’s shampoo, since it was a “girly” scent. As if his masculinity was particularly strong these days.

After he finished showering, he looked in the mirror, wearing nothing but a towel. He barely recognized himself.

--

Dan sat in Louise’s lounge, relaxed on the couch next to her. Some random cooking show was playing at low volume, and Dan ignored another call from his phone, probably from Phil. He didn’t even check.

“Dan, you’ve been here for a day now, and you’re always welcome, but…what happened?” Louise said, turning towards Dan.

Dan drew in his lip and bit it. “Phil and I had a fight. We got outed and we had very different reactions.”

“Oh, honey, that’s something you can come back from,” Louise said, smiling. “The two of you are such a good couple, this isn’t the end.”

“Isn’t it though?” Dan asked, running his hands through his fringe. “I mean, Jesus, he asked if I was embarrassed of us.”

“Are you?” Louise cocked her head.

“Yes. No. Maybe?” Dan groaned. “I’m not embarrassed that I’m dating Phil, I’m embarrassed that I’m dating a boy and that people know. My parents are gonna disown me.”

Louise opened her arms and Dan leaned into them. He buried his head into her shoulder. “I’m fucked, Lou.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll be here for you, no matter what. The only person who can support you more than me, though, is Phil. You should call him,” Louise responded, rubbing her hands on Dan’s back.

“He’s gonna hate me, I bet,” Dan said, pulling away reluctantly. Louise gave him a look. “Or not. I’ll call him.”

Dan hit Call and felt his heart start racing. He stood up and headed across the flat for privacy. Pick up, pick up, he thought nervously. It kept ringing, until it stopped. The call went to voicemail.

“Fuck,” Dan sighed. He walked back into the living room to face Louise. “Can’t make amends if he doesn’t-“

Dan was cut off by the phone ringing. Call from: Phil<3

Louise gave him two thumbs up. Dan took a deep breath and pressed Accept Call.

“Phil, I-“

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just disappear whenever you’d like! I was worried sick about you, and I couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios where you’d died or something, and nobody knew where you were, and Charlie was about to call the cops, and you didn’t even text anybody, and your note was pure shit, I mean ‘I’ll be back’ answers none of my questions whatsoever! Fuck, Dan!” Phil exclaimed, and went quiet. Dan took it as his cue.

“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve picked up when you called, I just…wanted to ignore the world, or something, for just a day. When you told me that everyone knew about us it was like my brain shut down. I couldn’t think, I just needed to get out. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was scaring myself, to be honest. It was like, all of a sudden I was on a bus, with practically nothing, and I didn’t even recognize myself. I’m so sorry, Phil. I really hope you’re not gonna break up with me.” Dan braced himself for the worst.

“Dan, of course I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just hurt that the idea of people knowing about us is enough to make you run away.”

“I’m not embarrassed about you, really. I’m just not used to this.” Dan could practically see Phil nervously jamming his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna try it, though. If you’ll be patient with me, I’m gonna try my best to roll with this.”

“You know I’m by your side,” Phil said quietly. Dan smiled even though Phil couldn’t see it through the phone.

“I’m gonna head back soon, meet me at my dorm in an hour?”

Phil laughed. “See you soon, nerd.”

--

Dan felt nervous as soon as he stepped back onto campus. Yes, he was ready, but fuck, he was still scared. He walked quickly, so maybe he could avoid the attention of the other students milling around. None of them gave him the time of day.

Dan struggled to unlock his door for a second too long, thanks to the shakiness of his hands. Once the door swung open, Dan was immediately greeted by someone hugging him tightly.

“Welcome home,” Phil whispered. Dan laughed and hugged him back.

“Shit, I missed you so much, Phil,” Dan said, squeezing Phil against him.

Phil nodded, and the two boys stood there for a minute, hugging quietly.

“If you’re just going to stand there, can you not block the door? A dude’s gotta pee,” Charlie said, appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

Dan jumped and Phil giggled. It was good to be back.

--

Dan and Phil walked together to their shared class, Music Theory. Halfway there, Phil slipped his hand into Dan’s. Dan fought the urge to pull away.

It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re out, Dan thought. This is normal.

In the corridor behind them, someone wolf whistled while someone else called out, “Techie traitor!” Dan felt his face heat up.

“If you want to stop holding hands, I’ll be alright,” Phil whispered to Dan.

Dan thought about replying, but decided to do something he’d normally never do.

New Dan, new Dan. He stopped in the middle of the hallway to kiss Phil. The whistles grew louder. Phil flipped them off, smiling into the kiss.

[ve-doro]

“Of all ridiculous things the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy — to be a man who is brisk about his food and his work,” Kierkegaard admonished in 1843 as he contemplated our greatest source of unhappiness. It’s a sobering sentiment against the backdrop of modern life, where the cult of busyness and productivity plays out as the chief drama of our existence — a drama we persistently lament as singular to our time. We reflexively blame on the Internet our corrosive compulsion for doing at the cost of being, forgetting that every technology is a symptom and not, or at least not at first, a cause of our desires and pathologies. Our intentions are the basic infrastructure of our lives, out of which all of our inventions and actions arise. Any real relief from our self-inflicted maladies, therefore, must come not from combatting the symptoms but from inquiring into and rewiring the causes that have tilted the human spirit toward those pathologies — causes as evident to Kierkegaard long ago as to any contemporary person who crumbles into bed at night having completed the day’s lengthy to-do list yet feeling like a thoroughly incomplete human being.

How to heal that aching spirit is what Hermann Hesse (July 2, 1877–August 9, 1962) addresses in a spectacular 1905 essay titled “On Little Joys,” found in My Belief: Essays on Life and Art (public library) — the out-of-print treasure that gave us the beloved writer and Nobel laureate on the three types of readers and why the book will never lose its magic.

More than a century before our present whirlpool of streaming urgencies, Hesse writes:

“Great masses of people these days live out their lives in a dull and loveless stupor. Sensitive persons find our inartistic manner of existence oppressive and painful, and they withdraw from sight… I believe what we lack is joy. The ardor that a heightened awareness imparts to life, the conception of life as a happy thing, as a festival… But the high value put upon every minute of time, the idea of hurry-hurry as the most important objective of living, is unquestionably the most dangerous enemy of joy”

Decades before the German philosopher Josef Pieper made his prescient case for liberating leisure and human dignity from the clutch of workaholism, Hesse laments how modern life’s “aggressive haste” — and what a perfect phrase that is — has “done away with what meager leisure we had.” He writes:

“Our ways of enjoying ourselves are hardly less irritating and nerve-racking than the pressure of our work. “As much as possible, as fast as possible” is the motto. And so there is more and more entertainment and less and less joy… This morbid pursuit of enjoyment [is] spurred on by constant dissatisfaction and yet perpetually satiated.”

Noting that he doesn’t have a silver bullet for the problem, Hesse offers:

“I would simply like to reclaim an old and, alas, quite unfashionable private formula: Moderate enjoyment is double enjoyment. And: Do not overlook the little joys!”

A century before psychoanalyst Adam Phillips made his compelling case for the art of missing out and the paradoxical value of our unlived lives, Hesse considers what moderation looks like in the face of seemingly unlimited possibilities for what to do with one’s time, and although the options available have changed in the hundred-some years since, the principle still holds with a firm grip:

“In certain circles [moderation] requires courage to miss a première. In wider circles it takes courage not to have read a new publication several weeks after its appearance. In the widest circles of all, one is an object of ridicule if one has not read the daily paper. But I know people who feel no regret at exercising this courage.

Let not the man* who subscribes to a weekly theater series feel that he is losing something if he makes use of it only every other week. I guarantee: he will gain.

Let anyone who is accustomed to looking at a great many pictures in an exhibition try just once, if he is still capable of it, spending an hour or more in front of a single masterpiece and content himself with that for the day. He will be the gainer by it.

Let the omnivorous reader try the same sort of thing. Sometimes he will be annoyed at not being able to join in conversation about some publication; occasionally he will cause smiles. But soon he will know better and do the smiling himself. And let any man who cannot bring himself to use any other kind of restraint try to make a habit of going to bed at ten o’clock at least once a week. He will be amazed at how richly this small sacrifice of time and pleasure will be rewarded.”

Learning this difference between binging on stimulation and savoring enjoyment in small doses, Hesse argues, is what sets part those who live with a sense of fulfillment from those who romp through life perpetually dissatisfied. He writes:

“The ability to cherish the “little joy” is intimately connected with the habit of moderation. For this ability, originally natural to every man, presupposes certain things which in modern daily life have largely become obscured or lost, mainly a measure of cheerfulness, of love, and of poesy. These little joys … are so inconspicuous and scattered so liberally throughout our daily lives that the dull minds of countless workers hardly notice them. They are not outstanding, they are not advertised, they cost no money!”

He points to the most readily available, most habitually overlooked of those joys — our everyday contact with nature. A century before throngs of screen zombies began swarming the sidewalks of modern cities, Hesse writes:

“Our eyes, above all those misused, overstrained eyes of modern man, can be, if only we are willing, an inexhaustible source of pleasure. When I walk to work in the morning I see many workers who have just crawled sleepily out of bed, hurrying in both directions, shivering along the streets. Most of them walk fast and keep their eyes on the pavement, or at most on the clothes and faces of the passers-by. Heads up, dear friends!”

Hesse offers his prescription for breaking this trance of busyness and inattention:

“Just try it once — a tree, or at least a considerable section of sky, is to be seen anywhere. It does not even have to be blue sky; in some way or another the light of the sun always makes itself felt. Accustom yourself every morning to look for a moment at the sky and suddenly you will be aware of the air around you, the scent of morning freshness that is bestowed on you between sleep and labor. You will find every day that the gable of every house has its own particular look, its own special lighting. Pay it some heed if you will have for the rest of the day a remnant of satisfaction and a touch of coexistence with nature. Gradually and without effort the eye trains itself to transmit many small delights, to contemplate nature and the city streets, to appreciate the inexhaustible fun of daily life. From there on to the fully trained artistic eye is the smaller half of the journey; the principal thing is the beginning, the opening of the eyes.”

In a sentiment which Annie Dillard would come to echo many decades later in her beautiful meditation on reclaiming our capacity for joy and wonder, Hesse adds:

“A stretch of sky, a garden wall overhung by green branches, a strong horse, a handsome dog, a group of children, a beautiful face — why should we be willing to be robbed of all this? Whoever has acquired the knack can in the space of a block see precious things without losing a minute’s time… All things have their vivid aspects, even the uninteresting or ugly; one must only want to see.”

And with seeing come cheerfulness and love and poesy. The man who for the first time picks a small flower so that he can have it near him while he works has taken a step toward joy in life.

Noting that these small joys take the form of different things for each of us, Hesse adds:

“[There are] many other small joys, perhaps the especially delightful one of smelling a flower or a piece of fruit, of listening to one’s own or others’ voices, of hearkening to the prattle of children. And a tune being hummed or whistled in the distance, and a thousand other tiny things from which one can weave a bright necklace of little pleasures for one’s life.”

He ends with an offering of counsel as valid and vitalizing today as it was a century ago, perhaps even more:

“My advice to the person suffering from lack of time and from apathy is this: Seek out each day as many as possible of the small joys, and thriftily save up the larger, more demanding pleasures for holidays and appropriate hours. It is the small joys first of all that are granted us for recreation, for daily relief and disburdenment, not the great ones.”

(...)