#'Aggressively hot rich kids' is correct | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός ther·mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating.

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper.

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic.

It’s Toga.

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks.

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text.

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well.

Hmm, well this is something, at least.

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in.

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C.

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

Fuck.

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths.

There is a heat advisory today.

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good.

Wishful thinking on his part.

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all.

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move.

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner.

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down.

You were out of town.

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv.

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment.

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you.

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too.

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to.

You’re gone for the better part of a week.

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name?

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies?

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days.

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you?

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in.

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets.

You’ve got a nice smell.

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now.

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him.

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours.

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin.

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance.

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face.

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly.

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that.

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo.

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile.

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation.

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view.

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head.

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach.

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his.

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do.

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes.

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep?

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm.

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window.

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them.

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it.

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you.

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking.

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now.

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter.

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl.

There’s fuck all happening.

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting.

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.”

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth.

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind.

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him.

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close.

He’s never been this close to you.

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another.

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him.

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

When he wakes again, you’re gone.

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.”

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now.

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed.

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him.

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching.

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down.

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals.

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine.

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress.

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you.

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar.

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention.

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display.

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.”

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night.

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought.

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front.

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss?

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice.

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up.

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright.

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse.

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.”

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good.

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in.

Not without you.

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him.

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you.

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time.

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex.

That sounds better than saying what he really wants.

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it.

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him.

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him.

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down.

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face.

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find.

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw.

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard.

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin.

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you.

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.”

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm.

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness.

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you.

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings.

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress.

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions.

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close.

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air.

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt.

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist.

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big.

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?”

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him.

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds.

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.”

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back.

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully.

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more.

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions.

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out.

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.”

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes.

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet.

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution.

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets.

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind.

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

#dabi #toya todoroki #i can put that #like omg #bnha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #toya x reader #toya x y/n #toya x you #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: dabi #tw: heat play #answered asks #asks

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lostinwildflowers · 4 years ago

Text

Night Skies and City Lights

Koshi Sugawara x Reader

Summary: Sugawara comes from a rich family, he owns lavish cars and houses, and can buy whatever he wants. When he is invited to an event in New York City, he wants to bring a date. What do you do when your best friend asks you to go with him?

Word Count: 8.0K (Yeah I’m sorry)

Warnings: wealthy!Suga, swearing, friends to lovers, pining, angst, two dum dums don’t realize they both like each other(omg please kiss already i stg), fluff of course :)

A/N: Here is my part of @bakugohoex (Ria)’s 3K follower event!!! I can’t say it enough, but congrats love! I hope y’all enjoy my first time writing for Suga bb :) Please let me know what y’all think in the comments or in my inbox please, this took a lot from me to jump of out my comfort zone. Love y’all! - Birch<3

Dividers were created by the lovely and wonderful @anlian-aishang :) (I totally didn’t get these made just for this fic LOL)

Also, this and this were my inspiration for their outfits :) (total credit to the artist of the drawing and creator of the dress.) Okay I’ll shut up now, please enjoy :)

The last bell of the day rang out loudly, and all through the hallways, you could hear the happy cheers and chatter of students on their way home for the weekend. Students bustle quickly out of your assigned classroom, and a chuckle leaves your lips at the horde of them that clutter around your door.

You are drawn out of your thoughts as you shut your notebook, realizing that you had to put all of your books in your locker for the weekend. You begin shoving binders and folders into your backpack as fast as you can as the teacher finishes putting the chairs up for the janitor to clean overnight.

As you zip your bag shut and toss it over your shoulder, an extra binder in your arms you call out, “Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Smith!” The older woman calls back a goodbye as you slip out of the door, striding down the halls toward your locker.

Your bag hits the ground next to your locker with a loud thump as you set the binder in your hands on top of your bag, turning back to your locker to enter the combination in. Footsteps down the hall pull your eyes away from the small dial as you pull the lever open swiftly.

Warm, brown eyes lock onto yours in an instant and a smile slides across your lips as you lunge toward the taller framed boy.

“SUGA!!! I thought you went home without me, you jerk,” you whine out as you wrap your arms around him. Large and muscular arms wrap around your waist, picking you up off the ground to spin you in a small circle.

You can feel Sugawara’s chest rise and fall from his soft chuckles and as he pulls away, he shoots you his signature sugary grin.

“Awe, did you really think I would leave you behind, Y/n?” he teases as you return to placing your binders in your locker. You roll your eyes in fake annoyance as you chide back at him, “Well you took your time getting here and the hallways are totally empty, so yeah.”

Suga leans against the locker next to yours, crossing his arms as he watches you struggle to place one of your textbooks on the top shelf. He leans forward quickly, grabbing it from your hands to place it above your head with ease.

“You really think I would let my best friend walk home on a Friday afternoon, all alone, with no one to protect her? Geeze Y/n, your expectations of me are very low,” he pouts as he looks away, brown eyes gleaming playfully as you pick up your bag in one hand, closing the locker with the other.

You shove him, bag slipping from your hands as you slam him against a locker. Laughs bubble out from the two of you, and you are so distracted by trying to catch your breath from all the giggles to notice that Suga has slung your bag over his shoulder and has tossed his arm around you, guiding you out of the building.

Casual conversation is held between the two of you as he walks you home. Suga talks about his classes and the status of his college applications. You talk about how you were so excited for the weekend because you finally got a break from classes and you got to sleep in the following morning.

It seemed to be too soon when you landed on the steps of your front door. Suga rubs the back of his head with a soft grin, offering your bag out with his opposite hand.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and murmur, “Thanks Suga, I always appreciate it when you walk me home. I know you could always drive us, but the weather was so nice today and...”

A slight warmth hovers over your cheeks as your words trail off and you shrug as you grab your bag from him. You look down at your feet before mumbling out, “and I guess I like spending time with you outside of class and stuff.”

Suga lays a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him quickly. His head tilts softly, like how he does, and chuckles, “Well I enjoy it too, Y/n! This is what best friends do, so you can count on me!” With his last words, his thumb juts toward himself and he gives you another one of his classic smiles.

You can feel a slight drop in your mood at his words. This is what best friends do. The silver-haired boy in front of you had been your best friend for years, but now he’s in high school and he’s not the same little kid he used to be.

He was thick with muscle from playing volleyball, and he was devastatingly handsome. Suga’s concerned face suddenly has you focusing back in as the hand he rested on your shoulder moves to cup your face softly.

“Are you alright, Y/n? You looked kinda dizzy there for a second, do I need to walk you in-” “I’m okay,” you chirp out as your (colored) eyes widen. Suga flinches at your words before pulling away from you, tucking his hands into his pockets.

You immediately feel bad for slightly snapping at him, he was always just trying to help. “I promise I’m good, Suga,” you say more gently, “I was just lost in thought there for a second.”

He gives you a nod and then a look of thought travels across his face. Suga opens his mouth to say something, but your front door opens to your mom’s voice, and you turn away from him before he gets the chance to speak.

“Hi mum,” you call as you wave to her. Suga doesn’t say anything but just lifts a hand to wave at her as he starts to back up. “Hey, Y/n, I gotta go home, I’ll text you, yeah?” he says softly as he turns away.

You nod over your shoulder as Suga fully turns around, too quick for you to see the blush on his cheeks and the embarrassed look on his face. He curses under his breath as he walks away from your house and down the sidewalk.

You were his best friend, so why the hell was it becoming so hard to talk to you?

The following week was difficult for Suga after his failed attempt to ask you his lingering question. He had been invited to New York City for an event by his coach, Keishin Ukai.

All of his friends were going with their girlfriends and significant others, and he didn’t want to show up alone. Suga didn’t really bother to listen to what the event was about, but he knew it was supposed to be a black-tie affair.

There were two reasons why he was struggling to ask you to go with him. The first reason, although selfish and a daydream, was every time he would go to ask you, all he could picture was the way you would look in a floor-length dress like that. Would you want to wear purple or blue? Maybe even an emerald green?

Just the thought of you looking so ravishing on his arm had his tongue-tied and all rational thought leave his head. His second reason was a bit selfish too, and it was because it was you.

You were his best friend. You were more than his best friend. You were his person, the one who he loved and enjoyed more than anyone else. Yeah, he had the biggest and sweetest crush on you, and no way to tell you.

How couldn’t he love you? You were absolutely stunning, you had an amazing sense of humor with a perfect midnight laugh. You were so, so kind to others, and the soft touches on the shoulder and friendly hugs were more than enough to make his heart skip in his chest.

So, when he acted slightly weird around you after that day he walked you home, you began to worry that you had done or said something to push him away. You didn’t want there to be tension between the two of you, you guys were best friends!

You both were currently sitting in Suga’s personal library after school hours, books sprawled out in front of you as you studied for your upcoming tests. Suga sat in front of you, glasses perched on his nose as he read from a small journal, taking small notes every few seconds.

On the other hand, you were furiously doing math homework, sketching out curves of complex equations, and typing things aggressively into your calculator. Suga glances up at you in concern when you let out a huff after loud clacking into your calculator.

“Everything alright, Y/n? What did that poor calculator do to you?” he chuckles lightly, setting his journal down and lightly stretching, leaning his palm against his face as he gives you his full attention.

You look up from your calculator a little wildly, a flush covering your cheeks as you register Suga’s words and his brown eyes on you. You push the calculator away from you as you murmur, “I just… I really don’t like math.”

Suga nods knowingly and takes a closer look at what you were trying to do. “Yeah, I don’t want any of that,” he laughs out with a disgusted look on his face.

You pout and cross your arms, giving Suga the best puppy eyes that you could. “Pleaseeee, Suga? You are so good at math, you took this class a whole year early!”

Suga just rolls his eyes before scooting over to your side, one arm resting on the back of your chair as his eyes flicked over the problem. You tried to focus on the small corrections he was giving you, something about concavity and zeros on the graph.

It was difficult to think about math when your really, really cute best friend had his glasses on and was trying to teach you something.

Holy shit he looks so hot, you think to yourself as you watch Suga redraw the graph you were miserably failing at. No wonder he wants to be a teacher, he’s amazing at this. Wait! Why am I thinking like this? He’s my best friend! I don’t like him like that!

“You got all this?” Suga asks you, a gentle expression on his face as he finishes the sketch, holding it up to show you. You blink dumbly at him for a second before nodding, “Yeah, uh, thanks, Suga.”

He gives you a short nod back but doesn’t return to his seat. He reaches for the journal he had been reading but stops and turns back to you.

“Hey, Y/n, I actually have something to ask you,” a blush starts to creep up his neck and red coats the tips of his ears. You turn away from your math homework to get a better look at your best friend.

One of his hands goes to scratch at his neck while he stutters out, “I- I, uhm, was wondering if you would w-want to go to this, uhm event with me? It’s in New York, so I get it if you don’t feel comfortable and it’s-”

“Suga, I would love to!” you chirp out, a smile gracing your features as you place a hand on his shoulder. A deep sigh of relief leaves his lips as he grins back at you, “Thank goodness, I really didn’t want to go alone. Not when Daichi and Asahi are going to show up with pretty girls on their arms.”

You blink at his words and look toward the floor, “Are you asking me just because I’m your best friend? Or am I pretty enough to fit in with your friends?” A sinking feeling hits your stomach as you realize the differences between you two.

It was easy to forget Suga’s wealthy status when he was your best friend. You had grown up together, so he just seemed like family. Suga never truly liked to flaunt his money or possessions, so it never really bothered you. But here he was, asking you to fly across the globe to go to an event with other rich people.

Suga quickly waves his hands in front of him before awkwardly trying to reassure you, “No, no, Y/n!! You are my best friend, and well, you’re really pretty- I just thought you might want to go, and I don’t think you aren’t pretty, in fact, I think you're one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen!”

A silence falls over the two of you as you both look at each other in surprise at Suga’s small outburst. You burst out laughing at the embarrassment on Suga’s face, hands clutching toward your stomach out of habit.

“You should have seen your face, Suga! Oh my gosh, you really are too sweet for your own good sometimes,” you squeak out in between giggles. Suga visibly relaxes at your words, and then pouts in his chair, sticking his tongue out at you in annoyance.

A smirk appears on Suga’s lips as he turns back to you, an evil look plastered onto his face. Your eyes widen as you start to realize what that look meant.

“No, SUGAAAAA!! Do we have to go shopping?” you whine as he pulls you into a new store. He just laughs and reassures you that it was very important.

“You have to pick a dress to wear at the event, Y/n,” he states, hands looking through the rack of dresses in your size. You stop for a moment to admire him, his brown eyes looking over each dress, taking in every part before deciding if it was your style or not.

“Can I at least pick which color we wear?” you ask as you slide in next to him. Suga just laughs and nods as he pulls a dress off the rack to show you.

The rest of the afternoon is spent shopping for new suitcases, outfits, and of course, the dress you were going to wear at the event. Suga left you to get your dress fitted as he went to find a matching tux.

You surprisingly trusted him to get a suit that matched well enough, because it’s Suga here. He is quite the fashionista, and he had a picture of your dress to show to his tailor. You would be taking the clothes with you that day, as the plane would leave the following morning.

You both had agreed to meet at the airport in the morning, Suga had even gone as far as to have a car drop by your house to pick you up, and all of your luggage would be loaded by some of his private crew.

Suga waved at you as you slid out of the car he sent, and you lifted your arm to wave back. You thanked the driver and slid out, your carry-on slung over your shoulder as you made your way over to him.

The private jet was waiting and ready to go, so you both boarded the awaiting plane and got buckled in for take-off. You had asked Suga if you could sit next to him, as you were a little uneasy about flying, and being next to him would be comforting enough for you until you got up into the sky.

He, of course, was reading over the itinerary for the event, but the feeling of being up in the plane made you slightly sick to your stomach. Your head landed on his shoulder, and before you knew it, you were asleep on his shoulder.

Suga looks down at you with a soft admiration and love in his eyes, and he allows himself to enjoy the closeness with you. He gently rests the side of his head against the top of yours, and he slips an arm behind your back so you could be more comfortable. It was going to be a long flight to New York City.

It wasn’t long before your plane landed and you were sleepily getting ushered into a fancy black car. The hotel you were staying at was apparently one of the nicest around, so you couldn’t complain as your heavy eyes stared out the window.

Neither you nor Suga said anything when you woke up from your nap, and neither of you noticed the faint blush coating the other’s cheeks when you pulled away. Suga, ever the gentleman, had helped you down from the plane and carried your bag the whole way to where the car was waiting.

You could hear the radio faintly in the background, along with the soft and calm voice of Suga. He was on the phone with one of his friends, you couldn’t tell if it was Daichi or Asahi though. Suga told whoever was on the other side that you both had landed safely and were going to the hotel to relax after the long flight.

Soon enough you are facing a very large and fancy-looking hotel, bright lights shining down against the darkened night sky. You are caught staring for a moment before your car door opens to Suga staring down at you.

“We’re here, Y/n. Let's grab our bags from the trunk and get settled in,” he murmurs quietly, as if to not startle you. You give him a nod before beginning to slide out of the seat, knees wobbly as you stand up straight.

Large and comforting hands steady you on either side of your hips, and you look up to see warm honey-colored eyes staring back at you. “Ya okay there, Y/n? I don’t have to carry you now, do I?”

A chuckle leaves both of your lips as he pulls away, handing you your backpack and rolling your suitcase up next to you. The two of you head into the main lobby, waiting for a minute to get your room number before locating the elevator.

You once again slump against Suga as the numbers on the elevator click by slowly. Suga glances down at your tired form with affection in his eyes, and he whispers, “Hey, you can’t be falling asleep yet. You slept almost for the whole plane ride, and we’ve got some things to go over.”

You turn your head to glance up at him with confusion lacing your features. “Whatcha mean we got things to go over? Like for the event?” you question him, eyes flicking over his face tiredly.

Suga nods as the elevator opens to your floor, and he leads the way down the hallway to where your large room was waiting. You had asked him if you could share a room, as you had never been to NYC before and were hesitant to be alone.

As you get your things situated, Suga explains how with his friends at the event you can be yourself; goofy, charismatic, and so on. He also mentioned how his coach was going to be there after traveling, and that you would have to be pretty put together in front of him.

“This sounds like a lot, Suga,” you fret, hands fiddling with your suitcase as you pull out a pair of pajamas. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to remember all of this.”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a second before he looks you square in the eyes and says, “Well don’t worry about it too much. I’ll be right there beside you, Y/n. I drug you into this mess, I can at least be by your side for the whole night.”

You gave him a smile before nodding to the bathroom, “I’m going to get a shower now, is that alright?” Suga just gives you a quick thumbs up over his shoulder as he reaches for the remote to turn on the tv.

You wander into the very large bathroom, taking in the high ceiling and marble countertops. You set your clothes down next to the sink before turning on the water and getting ready for your shower. Tomorrow was the big day, after all.

The night was young as the bright lights from the city reflected off the windows of the black limo you were sitting in. Suga was sitting across from you, head resting against the window as he watched the streets fly by.

He looked handsome. He looked sinfully handsome. His legs were crossed, and maybe that was a good thing. You could stop staring at his thick and muscular thighs.

You couldn’t help looking at your best friend like this. The way his perfectly tailored vest fit snugly across his chest was distracting, and the way the sleeves to his black button-up were rolled to expose his strong forearms was unforgivable.

Suga was looking out of the window for one reason and one reason only. He was trying to stop staring at you because holy shit his best friend was riding in a limo with him to a huge event, and oh my goodness did you look divine.

Your flowy black dress filled a good portion of the limo, so Suga couldn’t really sit next to you anyways. In general, he was struggling to contain himself around you, so he opted for quietly watching from the window as you played on your phone.

The limo stopped after a few more minutes of driving, and suddenly you had arrived at a huge mansion just outside of Manhattan. Suga helped you out of the limo, offering his arm to you as you walked toward the growing party.

You clung on tight to Suga’s arm as he began talking to CEOs and other pompous aristocrats, your (colored) eyes scanning around you to see if you could recognize anyone. Suga mentions you a few times to the people he’s talking to, and you say a few words here or there, letting Suga carry the weight of the conversation.

Soon enough, the conversation ends and Suga leads you away from those people before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You’re doing great, Y/n. Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Your (colored) eyes look up to him quickly, a warmth flooding your cheeks as you scan over his features. He looked as calm and collected as ever, his brown eyes watching the crowd as he guided you toward a less busy corner.

“You look handsome tonight too, Suga,” you murmur shyly as he finally lets his gaze settle over you. He playfully punches your shoulder and chuckles out, “Hey, I was trying to be nice and make this about you, ya know.”

You got to shove him back playfully before you catch sight of shoulder-length brown hair, paired with a barely-there scruff.

“Asahi!” you call out, waving at him as he catches sight of you and Suga. A man slightly shorter than Asahi follows behind him.

Suga turns away from you to see Asahi and Daichi approaching and he opens his arms wide for a hug. “Asahi, Daichi! Good to see ya, fellows. How have you been?” Suga asks them, pulling you up next to him so you could say hello to his buddies.

Asahi gives a shy smile as Suga wraps him in a big bear hug and he stutters out, “I’ve uh, I’ve been good Suga- I can’t b-breathe when you sQUEeze me that tight.” Daichi just laughs and pulls Suga away to do the handshake chest bump thing that guys always do.

“Nice to see you Suga, Y/n, I haven’t seen you in forever! You look beautiful tonight,” Daichi says as he pulls Suga under his arm. Suga shoots you a sheepish grin as his best friends begin to pull him away.

“Y/n, is it alright if we steal him for a little while? To catch up?” Asahi asks as Daichi starts ushering Suga away from you. You just give Suga a little wave as you respond to Asahi, “Yeah, no problem! Just bring him back to me in one piece.”

Asahi laughs as he follows the captain and vice-captain into the mix of the party. You are left alone for a brief moment before someone calls your name. You look around, but you don’t see anyone you recognize.

Suddenly, two shorter boys appear in front of you, large toothy grins gleaming at you. “Noya! Hinata! How are you?!” you squeal out as you trap them both in a hug.

A bored voice from behind them mutters out, “They should be better, they’ve been slacking off at practices.” You pull away and lunge at Kageyama, wrapping the tall, lanky boy in a tight hug with a cry of, “Kags! I should have known you would be here!”

“Hey!!! Why don’t I get any love?” came the fourth voice, and you turn to be faced with Tanaka. You let a laugh leave your lips as you give the last boy a hug before pulling back to look at all four of them.

“I haven’t seen you all in so long, you all look so handsome!” you state happily, hands toying with the side of your dress as you gaze upon them. Tanaka, Hinata, and Noya all beam under your praise, while Kageyama just blushes faintly and covers it up with a cough.

Noya looks around you for a second, confusion obvious on his face as he ponders aloud, “Where’s Sugawara? He was the one who brought you right?”

You go to tell him that Asahi and Daichi stole him but you are cut off by Hinata chirping out, “Yeah, is he like your boyfriend or something now?”

“Oh quit it, you moron,” Kageyama snaps at him, “Sugawara would have told us if he managed to snag her, dumbass.”

You blink dumbly at them all for a second before they all look up at you, eyes wide like puppies who ate something they shouldn’t have. Tanaka breaks the silence by saying, “C’mon guys, do you really think Suga could catch someone as pretty as Y/n? I don’t think so!”

“Hey, I would watch your mouth there, Tanaka,” Daichi’s voice comes. Asahi and Sugawara are right behind him, and Suga slides in next to you with an apologetic smile. He leans down to whisper in your ear as Daichi starts arguing with Tanaka, “Sorry I took so long, the guys really missed me, and I-”

You quickly shush him and shrug with a smile, “No, no it’s alright. I was just catching up with these lunatics.” Suga gives you a grateful smile in return before looking back at his friends, laughing along with a joke Noya told Asahi.

Your (colored) eyes flick over Suga’s handsome face, taking in the soft pink on his cheeks from laughing, the beauty mark next to his eye, and the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at his friends.

You must have kept your eyes on Suga for a second too long, because Hinaya peeps out, “Hey, Y/n, is there something on Suga’s face that you’re looking at?”

You tear your eyes away from Suga as fast as you can to look anywhere but at any of the people around you. The group of boys all watch you as your face flushes and your mouth gapes open, but no words come out.

Suga starts to get concerned when you don’t say anything, and he murmurs to you, “Hey, what’s going on? Y/n are you okay? Your face is burning up.” You remain silent as you try to think of anything to say, so Suga nods to Daichi as he starts to pull you away from the crowd.

Suga guides you through a large set of heavy spruce doors before leading you out into a small garden. The cool night air helps to calm the rush of heat coating your face and neck, and Suga takes a deep breath in before sighing it out slowly.

“What was all that back there?” Suga asks quietly as you sit down on a long bench on the side of the garden. You avert your eyes away from him as you fiddle with the layers of tool from your black dress.

“Y/n?” Suga asks as he leans down to you, resting one arm on the bench next to you, caging you to the bench with just his body. He brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, bringing your eyes to meet his. You gulp at the warmth of his touch, even though you feel shivers down your spine.

Suga’s expression is anything but harsh though, there is only concern and care in his eyes as he gazes down at you. You open your mouth to answer him but you are left with silence hanging in the air. Suga tries to give you an encouraging smile, allowing his hand to drop from your face to grab one of your hands.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/n. I’m your best friend.” But I want to be more. The words were left hanging on his tongue, but you didn’t know any different because you were so caught up in your own head.

“I uh, yeah, thanks Suga. I guess I just got lost in thought and zoned out for a minute,” your murmur as you look down at his hand on yours. Best friend. That’s what Suga was to you, a best friend, a study partner, your everything.

“Suga, I-” “Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Tonight is about having fun, so we don’t have to get too much into this, okay?” Suga cuts you off gently, squeezing your hands reassuringly before reaching behind you to pluck a rose from the bush near your head.

He carefully peels the thorns off quickly before he turns back to you, sliding the brilliant red rose behind your ear with a soft caress to your cheek. He gives you a slight smirk before he shifts his weight and murmurs, “I meant it earlier. You really do look gorgeous tonight, Y/n.”

You blush under his watchful gaze, and you can see his eyes trail over your whole face, even going as far as to take a step back to look at you in your dress. He lets a cheeky whistle slide from his lips as he looks at you fondly, and this time you are at a loss for words because of the way he’s looking at you.

He’s never looked at you like this before.

It was quiet in the car, no music, no hushed whispers, just hanging silence. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but you could feel some tension between you and Suga.

You were feeling a lot of things after the way he looked at you, but he brushed the situation off fairly quickly, lending you a hand before whisking you back to the party where his friends were waiting.

Suga helped carry the train on your dress as you made your way up to your room, only a few words being passed between the two of you to keep the dress in the best shape possible.

Once you made it comfortably inside the room you turned to Suga, a faint blush coating your cheeks as he unbuttoned the silver-colored vest that was wrapped so neatly around his torso.

“Hey Suga,” you mumble, hands clenching at your sides as you inwardly groan. He turns to you quickly before murmuring back, “Yeah?”

You shuffle closer to him before turning your back to him and saying over your shoulder, “Could you unzip me? I don’t think I can reach it.”

Suga just nods, and he has to clear his throat and mind to keep his thoughts from straying. His mind was tired and he could make a fool of himself if he wasn’t careful.

One of Suga’s warm hands rests on your waist as a brace, and the other hand uses its nimble fingers to slowly slide the zipper down your back. Suga’s breath catches in his throat for a second, his hands lingering longer than they should have.

He can’t help the way he’s looking at you when you turn to face him. His eyes are blown out wide, full of some unknown emotion as he looks over you. Suddenly it clicks in your head.

He’s giving you the same look he gave you in the garden. It’s an intricate look, one of many layers, the first and most outward one being happiness. Then, maybe some adoration and giddiness. But the final depth to it, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

You turn to fully face him, opening your mouth to speak before he spits out, “You can have the bathroom first, I’ll uhm, I’ll get changed out here.”

You give him a nod before shuffling over to your suitcase and grabbing your pajamas before slipping into the bathroom. Once the door shuts behind you, a shaky sigh leaves your lips as you lean up against the door.

Fuck, what was that just then?

You get changed as quickly as you can, hanging the dress on its hanger before jumping in the shower. Once you take a quick shower, you wipe your makeup off and comb through your hair. You splash some cool water on your face to help you clear your thoughts, and you lock eyes with yourself in the mirror.

I’ve got to be honest with myself. Something is going on here, and I’m not really sure what it is. I can’t deny it, I like him. I like him a whole hell of a lot. I just can’t ruin this…

You shake your head to try to rid yourself of your lingering thoughts before you walk back out into the main living area of the hotel room. At first, you don’t notice where Suga is at, but then when you catch sight of him, a flush is filling your cheeks before you can help it.

Suga’s back was facing you, but it was very much a shirtless back, and while you had seen him shirtless after practices or even when you were swimming in his pool, this was different. This was domestic, there wasn’t anyone else between you two.

You squeak as you drop your phone, the small rectangle cracking against your foot in your stupor of Suga’s back muscles. He turns around quickly at your cry, and you avert your eyes to the floor to pick up your phone, trying to relax the rapid beating of your heart in your chest.

When you look up, Suga is pulling on a shirt, but you still manage to see the nice set of muscles set upon his toned torso. You wander over to your suitcase, putting away your toothbrush and other small items before glancing over at him.

Suga was already looking at you and he quips out, “Why’s your face all red? Did you use up all the hot water?” You just giggle to try to cover your butt, and he joins in as you nod, “Yeah, you know me too well, Suga.”

The rest of the evening slides by rather silently, with you scrolling through your phone before giving up and trying to sleep. Suga, however, is sitting at the desk next to his bed, reading one of the books he packed. He even had his reading glasses on so he could dim the light a little more for you, in hopes you would be able to fall asleep.

After 30 minutes of tossing and turning you shuffle up and whisper out, “Suga? Do you think you could lay with me? I can’t seem to fall asleep.” When Suga looks up from his book at you, your hair is slightly mussed from your constant motion, and your t-shirt is just barely hanging off your shoulder.

You looked as exhausted as he felt. He just gives a tired smile before nodding and placing his book down. He slides his glasses off before rubbing at his tired eyes, flicking the lamp off as he stands up.

Suga walks over to the side of your bed closest to his, so that if you wanted him to move to his own bed, it would be less of a hazard in the darkness. You pull the covers back for him, and soon enough Suga is settling down next to you, laying flat on his back.

You roll over onto your side to face him, and in the darkness, you can see his eyes twinkling from the lights of the city behind him. You whisper into the darkness, “Thanks for inviting me on this trip, Suga. It means a lot, you know. I’m not one who grew up with all the fancy things you have, so this was a true experience for me. Thank you.”

You can hear a tired chuckle from Suga as he whispers back to you, “No, Y/n. Thank you for coming with me. Don’t know what I would have done without you today.”

You just smile to yourself at his words, your heart fluttering a little more as you hear him softly groan as he fluffs his pillow before flopping down again. You blink once before closing your eyes and murmuring, “Goodnight, Suga.”

A quiet, “Goodnight, Y/n,” is the only response you hear before you are pulled under by sleep. Except you missed the silent thought floating around in Suga’s head.

I love you.

A soft beam of glowing sunlight is what wakes you up, the ray shining brightly into your face as it slid past the parted curtain. You blink your eyes a few times to allow them to adjust to the light, and you are confused for a second at how heavy the blanket feels around you.

Said heavy blanket groans softly in your ear as he too squints at the light filling the room. Suga’s arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you close to his broad chest. This had you waking up fast, because the fact that your best friend was most definitely spooning you right now was a little jarring.

A groggy but deep grumble of “G’morning” falls from Suga’s lips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Warm puffs of air from his nose land on your skin, and you shiver at the goosebumps that rise on your arms and legs.

Suga shuffles a little more, tightening his grip around you as he mumbles, “You cold, Y/n? I’m roasting right now.” You giggle at his words before turning around in his arms, a whine leaving his lips as you shuffle around.

“Good morning, Suga,” you whisper as he blinks sleepily at you, large brown eyes soft in his morning glow. “Good morning, Y/n,” he says back with a dopey grin, a slight flush covering his cheeks at your close proximity.

You push on his chest with a gentle shove and another giggle as you murmur, “You said that already, you dork.” Suga just chuckles along with you and says, “I guess I’m not used to waking up next to you. We’ve been best friends for how long now and we’ve never had to share a bed?”

You both laugh at his words, enjoying each other’s company for another quiet minute before Suga’s phone starts ringing. Suga rolls onto his back with a loud groan, his arms and legs making a large starfish across the bed, pushing you off in his haste.

You cough a few times as you glare up at him, and Suga just points to his phone and mouths, “Sorry, I need to take this.” He grabs a pair of clothes before disappearing into the bathroom without another word.

The soft noise of the shower turning on alerts you that it was safe to get changed, so you pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater before scrolling through your phone as you waited for Suga.

The day itself wasn’t meant to be super exciting, Suga had gotten an extra day in Manhattan for you to sightsee and go shopping. The flight to Japan was leaving that night though, and it was the last flight leaving for the night so you couldn’t miss it.

Suga allows you to drag him around the city, taking pictures at small cafes and huge signs here or there for your family back home. There was one building that had pretty brickwork and you asked Suga if he wanted to take a selfie with you.

He took the selfie on his phone, he had the better camera after all. You both smiled at the camera with large grins before Suga started counting down, “3… 2…. 1… ” and on what should have been cheese, he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your cheek instead.

You tried not to think about the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek as you ask him to send you the photo. Little do you know, he saved it as his lock screen while he was waiting for your phone to receive the picture.

After getting dinner at a small and locally owned restaurant, Suga begins pulling you toward the hotel. You both pack up your suitcases and bags, and before you knew it you were boarding the same jet that had taken you to the states.

The sky was pitch black as the plane ascended upwards, and you find yourself burying your face into your hands as you adjust to the feeling of being thousands of feet in the air. Suga was sitting next to you quietly, writing something in his journal about the event and talking to the CEOs.

The silence isn’t necessarily comfortable, there’s nothing except for the sound of the flight, and you can’t help but feel like you need to say something. You shuffle in your seat for a second, trying to get comfortable on the large cushion underneath you without bumping into Suga.

“Hey, Suga?” you ask softly, trying to not bug him if he was writing something important. He finishes writing whatever thought he had before turning to you, one hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he regards you.

“Yeah?” he prompts as he looks over your form, your hands clenching together as if you were unsure if what you were going to say was okay or not.

You turn to face him a little more, and you stare directly into his brown eyes as you say, “Thank you, again for taking me on this trip. I really had a lot of fun, and it was great to see Daichi and Asahi again. Noya and Tanaka too of course...”

Your words start to fade in Suga’s head as he gazes upon you. The lights from the city were shining brightly against the night sky behind you, lighting up the hair around you like a golden halo. The soft and warm-toned lights from inside the plane made your (colored) eyes sparkle, and suddenly, all Suga could think about was you.

He thought about all the times he tried to ask a girl out on a date, but they all rejected him because they thought he had a girlfriend. Suga was always so confused, he was hurt by the fact that no one wanted to date the rich kid, no one even tried to mooch off of him.

And it was because everyone knew he had you. You were always by his side, eating lunch next to him, walking to class with him, getting rides home in the winter because he didn’t want you walking home in the snow.

He had fallen so utterly and deeply in love with you over the years, and he was ready to toss it all out of the window with his next action.

Slowly but confidently, Suga brings his right hand up to cup your cheek, allowing his hand to glide behind your head. He leans in, eyes soft but determined. You didn’t understand what was going on at first, allowing your words to slowly drift off as Suga was the only thing you could think of.

His left hand finds a place on your waist, pulling you gently toward him as his head starts to tilt to the right. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Suga was giving you all the time if you so desired to pull away, but he was pleasantly surprised when you leaned in, lips parting ever so slightly as you shut your eyes.

His lips felt like fire and ice all at once, burning and freezing as the air left your lungs. Kissing Suga was like eating a meal after fasting for weeks on end. He felt so much like home it almost scared you.

Suga’s lips move against yours at a bruising pace, letting you set the tone of the passionate kiss. You hear a slight groan from Suga when you brush your tongue against his bottom lip. He takes charge quickly though, his tongue chasing after yours playfully.

You try to battle him for dominance, your hands sliding across his chest before rising to tug on his hair. Suga takes this chance to tug gently on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away slowly, chest heaving from the weight behind the kiss.

You lean forward quickly though, press a soft peck on his lips before he pulls you close, leaning your forehead against his while you both catch your breath. No words are shared for a second as you both regain somewhat normal breathing, and this time you notice the flush on Suga’s cheeks.

You can see the city lights reflecting on his face as he looks at you, eyes blown wide with surprise and happiness, and definitely something else.

It’s the look he gave you in the garden, and it’s the look he gave you when he helped you out of your dress. This time, words start to come to mind to describe the look he’s giving you.

It’s tender and sweet. It’s fond and warm. It’s so Suga. It’s so… intimate.

You go to say something, but Suga beats you to it as he reaches for your hand. Suga swallows thickly and then says, “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me, but hear me out okay?”

You open your mouth to interject, but you decide against it and give him a nod. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand ever so slightly, his own shaking slightly at his sudden nerves.

“Y/n, I know we have been best friends for a long time, and I really have enjoyed our friendship, and I mean it. But, I can’t deny it any longer,” he looks down at your hands before looking you square in the eyes.

“I am in love with you, and I have been for years now. I tried to play it off as sisterly love, because we were practically raised together. But I couldn’t deny the way my chest would flutter when yet another girl would turn me down for one reason and one reason only, you.”

You blink in surprise for a second, but Suga continues, “I couldn’t help but feel mad when jocks from the soccer team would try to ask you to the spring formal. I thought it was because I am your best friend, but I love you more than that.”

You give him a smile back, a warm feeling spreading over your body as you manage to choke out, “I love you to Suga, and not just in the best friend kind of way.”

Relief and joy flood Suga’s face, and you almost swore you saw tears gather at the edges of his eyes. He flushes softly before murmuring, “Can I kiss you again?”

You give him a gentle nod before he pulls you onto his lap, holding you close to his toned chest before leaning forward and kissing you like his life depended on it.

And on that flight, city lights against the midnight sky became an ambient background as the two of you discovered what you had been missing out on for all these years.

146 notes · View notes

catxsnow · 4 years ago

Text

CO-CAPTAINS D.W.

Request: could i please request a damian wayne x reader imagine where she's a complete badass who keeps damian on his toes and they both do debate (because let's be honest damians favourite sport would be to show how much better he is at arguing) and maybe they have to work together to prepare for one debate and have an enemies to lovers situation and the debate comes and the batfamily comes to watch but instead of the usual sour damian he's got the 💖lovebug💖 and simping over his partner.

Warning: fluff, Older!damian, x fem!reader

A/N: I’m so sorry I literally know nothing about debate?? I was a basketball kid in high school so I did that instead. If you’re not satisfied let me know PLEASE!! I’m happy to write something else as well but I hope that you enjoy!!

Word count: 4k

Gotham's private school were one of the few good things to come out of the city. The public school were terrifying and you were lucky enough to get scholarships into the best school in the city. At least, it had to be the best if Damian Wayne was going there, right?

Son of Bruce Wayne, richest kid probably in the entire world. He also happened to be the cockiest asshole you had ever met in your life. You were well acquainted with him being on the same basketball team and everything. There weren't enough girls to make a team that year which meant you had to play with the boys - not that it was a problem for you.

A lot of people underestimated you skill since you were one of two girls on the boys senior team. It came in handy with a lot of games where you came out scoring the most amount of points each quarter. You skill had brought you to captain of the team. Or at least co-captain with none other than Damian.

The two of you were constantly trying to outdo each other and see who was the better captain and who was the better player. It was a constant battle between the two of you. Damian drove you crazy with his cocky attitude and his ever lasting need to prove that he was right. He was constantly trying to call the plays and you knew god damn well that it wasn't going to work.

Half the time, you were right.

Damian found you infuriating. A girl shouldn't be playing on the boys team - everyone knew that. Yet, here you were. You were proving to be better than half the guys on the team and Damian couldn't stand you for it. He hated when you were right and when you scored more points than he did.

Mostly, he hated that you always had to fight against him, rather than agree with him. You guys could never see eye to eye. And as much as you wanted to blame all the fights on him, most of them were started by you. You couldn't stand to see his stupid smirk when he came up with an idea to win the game.

Everyone on the team knew that you didn't like one another. Sometimes it fueled them up to win the game they were playing. Mostly, it got in the way to the extent that you had lost a game. The worst case was when Damian refused to pass to you and during the last few seconds of the final quarter, missed the shot and lost the game.

Yours and Damian's feud started long before you joined the boys team. Two years ago, there were enough girls to form a separate team. Some practices you would scrimmage against them - that was when your hatred started.

It was his first year playing and he was infuriated that you were beating him at every chance you got. Offense, defense, even court side you seemed to out wit him. He was tired of you and he didn't even know your name - just your number. His number.

"Wayne!" You shouted. Damian once again had his nose in his phone. You guessed that being the son of Bruce meant that he had diligent responsibilities to attend to as well - that didn't mean he got to be excused from practice though. Damian's eyes darted to you and a scowl spread on his lips. “Just because your co-captain doesn’t mean you can skip practice.”

You had to admit that it was one of your favourite past times to piss him off in anyway you could. Whether it was because it made you feel like the better captain or because he looked a little too hot when he was angry. Still, he threw his phone back in his bag and ran onto the court to join you and the others.

It was the end of practice and he looked like he was itching to leave. However, Coach had one last drill to run before hitting the change rooms. It pushed you just hard enough that sweat dripped down your face and soaked the back of your neck. Damian didn't even appear to even break a sweat.

With all the years that you had known him, he never seemed to be overworked. Coach would throw everything at him and he would always accomplish it with ease. You hated him for it. Whatever aestheticism he had was natural, you had to work you ass off for it. Nothing seemed to tire him out.

You nearly dropped to the floor the second the change room door closed. The cold tiles would have felt nice against your hot skin but you didn't know if you'd be able to get back up after you got down. So, you reluctantly threw on some sweats and a hoodie and headed out to catch your bus home.

Of course by the time that you got out there, all the other players were long gone and the only person left was Damian Wayne. Unlike you, he wasn't waiting for the bus, he was waiting for his butler. You wished you had that kind of luxury in your life - Gotham City busses weren't always the most reliable.

"(L/N)," Damian acknowledged you. The bus you were going to catch wasn't going to be there for another twenty minutes. As much as you didn't want to stay with Damian, you also felt a hell of a lot safer standing next to him rather than yourself. "Your free throws were off today."

"Thanks," You rolled your eyes. Of course he noticed your weakness of the day. He always seemed to be pointing out things you did wrong during practice and especially during games. You held up your hand to show him your taped fingers which seemed to be a good enough answer for as to why you were off. "Crushed my pinky last night."

"TT," he nodded. Part of you hated when he did that. That other part thought his little tick was adorable. The worst thing about hating Damian was that he also did the smallest gestures that made you swoon to him. You liked to blame it on his rich-boy-son-of-Bruce-Wayne facade, but you knew that wasn't it.

"You were leaning to your right instead of left today," this time you pointed out his flaw. Damian lifted up his pant leg to show of his ankle brace. How you hadn't noticed it in practice, you weren't sure.

"Two days ago," Damian briefly told you. "Don't worry, I could have crutches and I'd still be a better player than you." You scowled at him. The second that you thought that the two of you could get along, of course he had to go and ruin that with some plain-faced compliment.

"I'm pretty sure that someone who's never stepped onto a court could do better than you," you scoffed. The short time that you had left you little imagination to come up with insult. "My bus is going to be here soon, better go catch your babysitter."

"He's my butler," Damian corrected. You always referred to Alfred as Damian's babysitter - with his childish attitude god knows he needed one.

"Whatever," you were already walking away from him. As you continued to the bus stop, you spun around and flipped him off. Your middle fingers were raised high in the air and you could nearly feel his glare at you. "Have fun being privileged."

What you didn't know, was that Damian knew Alfred was there the whole time. He didn't want to leave you waiting in the dangerous streets of Gotham by yourself - not when he knew the horrors that were truly within them.

Damian knew you were one tough motherfucker.

He knew that on the court you were ruthless, unforgiving, and determined. Playing against a bunch of men that towered over you and sometimes having way more body mass against you meant you had to be tough. It was something that he always respected you for. Time and time again you surprised him with being able to take care of yourself.

Tonight was a home game and you were more than excited to be out on the court and kick some sorry ass. Just as always, the other team was shocked to see a girl playing and instantly started making fun of you. They were rough on you, refs were obviously not caring enough to call the fouls, and you were pissed.

By the third quarter, you were furious that so many calls were being missed. Your shooting started to get more forced and your defense more aggressive. It wasn't until the player you were guarding jabbed his elbow into your face did you finally have enough.

Blood dripped down your busted lip and your fists clenched up at your sides. If it wasn't for the bright red flowing out of you, you were sure that it would have been another foul that was shrugged off. With the sound of a the whistle being blown, both teams headed back to their benches.

"Fuck these refs!" You seethed. The back of your hand was smeared with blood from wiping it away. Your coach glared at you for the swear but since you were feeling ballsy, you only glared back at him.

You were already in a bad mood. Before the game had started, you and Damian had another one of your spats. This had been a big one too, you had never yelled at him so much in your life before. And to be honest, you couldn't even remember why it had started. He had said something to tick you off and it had just escalated from there.

The two of you were the first to arrive to the game - as it seemed to happen every time. While waiting for everyone else, you found yourself arguing once more. He always seemed to find the kind of things to just make you angry enough not to be able to forgive him. It drove you crazy.

When some of the other players filed in, the two of you stomped off in your own directions and never spoke again unless necessary. Damian was the one person that you could never get along with no matter how much you tried. And you wished you could get along with him too.

He was your co-captain, you should have easily been able to get along with him. Damian was someone that you truly could see yourself getting along with if he wasn't so damn stubborn.

"She's right," Damian suddenly defended you. He couldn't help but be in awe of you as you nonchalantly shrugged off the wound. You were fuming at the team, the refs, and now your couch. Damian had never seen you so riled up before and he had to admit that he loved this side of you.

"Doesn't matter," your coach cut the both of you off. "(Y/N), you're out for the rest of the game."

"No!" You argued. There was no way that you were going to be benched for some busted lip. Your coach wasn't going to let you argue it. So, for the rest of the game you grumbled on the bench and glared at any player from the other team that ran by you. This was unfair, yet no one seemed to disagree with the coach.

As the last seconds of the final quarter ticked away, victory was upon your team. The last buzzer went off and your team crowded around each other for the win. You on the other hand, already stalked off the the change room. Your bag was hastily thrown to the ground and you planted your hands on the edge of the sink.

To no surprise, your lip was swollen and bloody. A split ran vertically on the bottom and dried blood was caked around it. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping that it would cool you down - both from your heat and your anger. It didn't do either.

Your team was most likely already waiting for you for a post-game talk. That was the last thing you wanted to partake in. Unfortunately, you were already in enough trouble as it was and you couldn't miss this. You shoved a hoodie on and joined the rest of your teammates outside.

Twenty minutes later you had nearly droned out everything your coach was telling you and your team. Everyone decided to join up at the pizza place a couple streets down from the school before heading home. You on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be in your own bed away from everyone else.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you from walking away. Damian.

"What?" You snapped.

"Calm down, (L/N)," Damian rolled his eyes. He had the time to cool off from your fight several hours ago - you on the other hand most definitely had not. "Come get pizza with the rest of us. I know you're in a... bad mood, but it'll be good to spend time with everyone without coach there."

"No."

"I'll buy," Damian offered. You rolled your eyes at him. A slice of pizza really must have just dug into his budget a lot - being so rich and all. "Just... I'm sorry, for earlier. I shouldn't have said those things."

"Wow, is Damian apologizing?" You were genuinely shocked. He never apologized after any of your fights so he must have felt bad about this one. "I guess I'm going to have to come now."

The final game of the season always made you nervous. This year, was even worse. Senior year of high school meant that scouts would be watching for new players in university. Tonight, the gym was packed with them. You needed this scholarship if you wanted to get into the university of your dreams.

To make matters worse - Damian's family had shown up as well. Bruce Wayne and several of his brothers and sisters sat in the stands. It was the first time that you had seen them together outside of his ridiculously expensive galas. Bruce had shown up to support his son - his siblings wanted to see this girl that he had ranted on and on about.

There were many times after practice - or even just regular school days - where Damian would come home and complain about how much he hated you. He was constantly infuriated by your presence and he couldn't stand the thought about how impossible you were to try and have a proper conversation with.

Dick was the one who heard about it the most. He told Jason about it, who started showing up to the manor just to his little brother get so worked up about a girl. Steph became the most invested - she wanted to know everything there was about you and most importantly how, how she could get the two of you together.

Tim didn't believe that it would ever happen. When Damian hated someone, there was no changing his mind about it. You seemed to be at the top of his list at the moment and there was no way that Steph's wishes would ever come true. Damian hated you, simple as that.

You stood on the court side bouncing up and down on your toes. All the nervous energy was pent up inside of you and you had no idea how to get it out. This game meant everything to you - you needed to show off how good of a player you were and that you deserved to have a full-ride scholarship.

"You okay?" Damian stood beside you. He had grown a lot since you first met him. Before, you stood at the same height as him, now, he towered over you. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at you. You couldn't help but briefly gaze at his muscles that popped out of his jersey before meeting his eyes.

"Nervous," you answered.

"Why? We've beat this team before. Is it because it's the finals?" Damian raised an eyebrow. You were never one to show off your nerves - especially right before a game.

"No," you shook your head. "Scouts. I need a scholarship to get into university. I'm just worried I'm gonna fuck up tonight and lose my chance."

"You're going to do fine," Damian assured. You weren't used to this side of him. He never was one to boost your confidence, always the one to tear it down. "If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too."

"You? Nervous?" you cheekily grinned up at him. Damian rolled his eyes and nudged your side.

"My father is here," he jutted his chin in the general direction of his family. One of the older men seemed to notice and waved at you both. "And my nuisance brothers and sisters. They've never seen one of our games before."

You didn't have a chance to say anything else. A whistle echoed through the gym and the two of you were ushered onto the court. The second that you stood within the lines, your nerves seemed to wash away.

Damian stood in the center for the tip off. He did a short glance back at you and have a reassuring nod. For some bizarre reason, it filled you with joy. You felt a surge of confidence as well as determination. Whatever happened after tonight was out of your control. All you knew was that you had to bust your ass out there and everything would work out one way or another.

That game, you had worked like you never had before. You were making nearly every shot and putting up such a great defense. For the first time in your lives, you and Damian were working in sync. It seemed like he knew what you wanted to do before you even had the chance to think it. The two of you were incredible.

His family noticed how well you worked together. After everything that they heard about you - they assumed his hatred would show on the court as well. Most of the time, that was true. Tonight, you had never seen anything like this before. It was your best game of your life - skill wise.

At half time, your team huddled around to devise a strategy for the second half. You were ahead of the other team, but only by a few points. This was the final game of the season, you had to win. You stood beside Damian in the huddle.

Sweat dripped down his skin which seemed to accentuate his beautifully tanned skin. He left from your side and part of you felt disappointed at his departure. However, he returned only moments later with his water bottle, as well as yours. You thanked him as you grabbed it from his hand.

"You guys are on fire out there," One of your teammates stood behind you and Damian. He had a hand on each of your shoulders and a grin on his face. "It's crazy! I've never seen you work together like this before. Guess you guys are uh, warming up to each other, huh?"

Coach called him over before you could reply to him. He squeezed your shoulder before jogging off in the other direction. Damian didn't look too pleased by the short encounter either.

"Scouts have been watching you all night," Damian looked over to where one of them was sitting in the stands. He had made sure that he made all the right assists for you so that you would go noticed. It was working - you were doing incredible.

"Still half a game left to go," You muttered. As soon as you stepped off the court, you nerves had started to come back. "Thank you, for everything out there."

"(Y/N)? Thanking me?" He teased. He never had a playful attitude like this - but you had to admit that you really liked that side of him. The smile that caused his eyes to crinkle and his cheeks to squish. You couldn't help but gleam up at him the second that you saw it. "Come on, coach wants us."

The rest of the game went just about as good as the first half. You were drowning in sweat from all the work you were doing but if the scouts kept their eyes on you, then it was well worth it. You and Damian continued on just as you had before - playing as if you were one person, not two.

The final quarter came and went with your team pulling way into the lead. By the time the final buzzer went off, your team had already celebrated it's final win of the season. It was you and Damian that had been the reason for such a dramatic win - and the scouts knew it.

You had been pulled off to the side by one scout in particular before you could even make it to the change room. He happened to be from the university that you were so wanting to go to. Before he could even finish his offer for a full ride, you already had a massive grin on your face and nodded your head yes.

This had been exactly what you wanted in your life, you needed this win. The scout left you to go get changed and speak with your team. However, you had ran into Damian first. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure it was going to pop out of your chest with excitement.

Whether it was the adrenaline, the excitement, or the pure happiness you felt, you weren't sure - but that didn't stop you from running to Damian and up into his arms. Damian nearly tumbled at your sudden weight. You legs wrapped around his torso and your palms were on his cheeks. Before he could ask what the hell you were doing, you kissed him.

Damian was standing there in shock. He held your legs for support and you could feel them stiff against your bare skin. Then, he melted into your touch. Damian kissed you back with the same cheerful energy that you had. His grip on you became more natural and he felt as if he never wanted to let you go.

The clapping and cheering from your team had pulled you guys apart. Damian carefully set you back down on the ground and stepped away from you. Heat of embarrassment crawled up his skin. "I'm sorry," You squeaked out. "I just, I wanted to thank you. Scouts are interested me and it's all because of you."

You had never really thought about Damian in this way. Sure, he frustrated the hell out of you and sometimes you wanted to punch him in his perfect little face, but you never found yourself hating him. Yet, you never thought that you’d want to kiss him either.

The instinct feeling that you had? That spoke more than anything else. After all this excitement, you should have thought to tell your parents, your best friend first. Instead, it was Damian. Maybe it was because you ran into him first, but you couldn’t blame your thoughts on that as well.

"They're interested in you because of how great of a player you are, not because of me," Damian argued. His cheeks were tinged the slightest pink as he stared into your eyes. "And there's no need to apologize... I enjoyed that. I'm sorry for being terrible to you for all these years."

"I deserved a lot of it. I'm sorry as well," You told him. Damian placed his hand on your waist, closing the gap that was between you. He tilted down, placing his lips on yours once again. He never realized how much he had argued with you just to hide his own feelings until now. All these years of fighting had been pointless.

This time, it was a camera flash that broke you apart. A blonde girl with a huge grin on her face held up her phone. Damian scowled at her. "Steph!"

"Tim!" Steph ran back to Tim as well as the rest of Damian's family. She was holding the phone high up in the air, obviously excited to show her brother about what she had just seen.

"Sorry," Damian apologized once more. He glared over in the direction of Steph running away to meet the rest of her siblings. "My family can be a lot sometimes."

"Well if they're anything like you, that doesn't surprise me," you joked. You glanced between him, the team, and his family - all of which seemed to be looking towards you. "Wanna ditch the team and our families and get out of here?"

"Never thought you'd ask."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #older!damian #dc #dc imagine #dc one shot #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #fluff #damian wayne x fem!reader

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 3

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,983

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: implied anxiety attack, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <none>

...

The four boys were in Roman's room; Virgil sprawled across the bed lazily, Patton and Logan observing Roman's pet turtle, and Roman taking out the Cress plants and setting them on the window sill by his desk.

"soooooooo adorable!!" Patton yelped. he was naturally very enthusiastic, but seemed to be putting a little extra umph into it now.

Logan smiled over at him. "Quite. This is a Trachemys Scripta Elegans, also known as the red-eared pond slider. These are among the most common species of pet turtles. Although, despite their prevalence, they are indeed 'adorable.'" Upon finishing his analysis, Logan looked back to Patton, who had been watching intently as Logan explained. Patton felt a light blush rise to his cheeks, looking away from Logan.

"H-how do you know so much about turtles?" Patton said quietly.

"Well, when I was young, I really wanted a pet turtle. My mother, well, she supported it, but my dad... well, they came to a compromise, that if I did my research and took care of it on my own, that I could have a pet turtle."

"...And? Did you end up getting one?" Patton asked, his face showing plainly how emotionally invested in this story he'd become.

"Yes. His name was Star, I had him for a total of two years and three months." Logan said shortly.

"Why only two years? What happened?" Patton said. "I thought turtles lived for a long time?"

"They do, but Star was already 46. I got him from a rescue center; he had been left in an aquarium on the side of the road. I knew before committing to keeping him that he wouldn't last too much longer." Logan reminisced, but only for a moment. "Anyway, that was years ago." He said shortly, turning away from Patton.

Just at that moment, Roman turned around and cleared his throat. "If I could have everyone's undivided attention," he side-eyed Virgil aggressively, who just smirked and seemed to relax more into Roman's bed. "ugh, typical. will you please come and join the conversation, Hot Topic?" he pressed.

"Aww, you think I'm hot." Virgil teased back as he sat up. Roman's eyes went wide, his cheeks darkening. But before Virgil could notice, Patton diverted the conversation.

"What's the plan, Roman? Logan?" Patton looked between the two of them, and they looked at each other. They both went to speak at the same time, interrupting each other. While Roman chuckled at the situation, Logan took the opportunity to speak first.

"Well, I assume that you don't have any fertilizer Roman, so we'll-"

"Actually, I had my dad pick some up on his way home from work! He bought two very different brands- one mainstream and one... liberal. I'll go grab those, and some plant pots." Roman interjected, and then pranced off out of his room to collect said items, leaving the three others alone in the room.

Immediately, Virgil got up from the bed, and bent down to check under the bed, rummaging around.

"What are you doing, Virgil?" Logan asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose again.

"Yeah, isn't that including on Roman's privacy?" Patton said, sounding a bit concerned.

"I believe the word you mean to use is 'intruding,' Patton, and the correct wording would be 'intruding upon,'" Logan corrected.

"Oh, sorry, 'intruding upon.' Thanks, Lo!" Patton said, smiling brightly. Logan felt his cheeks heat up, and smiled softly back to him.

"Well, if you must know," Virgil grunted, getting up from his crouching position on the floor and moving to examine Roman's bedside table, "I'm looking for his stash."

Logan and Patton shared a confused look. "what do you mean 'his stash?'" Patton asked, somehow looking more confused.

Virgil was now making his way into Roman's closet. "Whatever that means for Roman, I guess. the stuff he hides from his parents. Drugs, porn, you know. something juicy." Virgil clarified. Patton winced at the p word.

"Virgil! Not only is that - intruding upon - his privacy, but that's downright disrespectful! you stop that right now!" As Patton finished speaking, Virgil emerged from the closet empty handed.

"Well, either way, I just checked all the classic spots. nothing to write home about. Guess I'll have to up my searching game for next week." He teased Patton, who whimpered. Virgil plopped back onto the bed, and Logan was about to ask why Virgil would need to write a letter to his parents when he'd be returning home far before a letter would arrive. But, his opening mouth was cut off, as Roman returned with two small flat pots, both already consisting of two different looking types of fertilizer.

"It's amazing, the differences between these," Roman said, presenting the pots to his teammates. Patton leaned in, and Roman made a good point. One pot had grayer dirt, and much fewer flecks of minerals and nutrients, and the other looked rich with life - Patton half expected a worm to emerge from it.

Logan walked over to the sill where Roman had put the plants, setting them down on the empty section of the desk. Roman brought over the pots, and Logan pulled the Garden Cress plants out of their temporary plastic pots, placing them gently in their respective pots. While he did this, Roman stepped behind him and put his arms around Logan's waist, and growled lightly into his ear. Virgil scowled in their general direction, and Patton's face fell.

Through his blush, Logan cleared his throat. "Roman, that is inappropriate behavior, and frankly I'm not comfortable with it. Our relationship is currently strictly professional." His voice was a little unsteady and cracked once, but he kept himself composed for the most part.

Roman considered continuing to tease him, but decided to take a nobler, grander route. "Fine," He began, releasing Logan from their intimate embrace, "I'll leave you be today, but on one condition. Logan Montgomery, will you go on a date with me?"

Everyone in the room was shocked into silence, even Roman. He was surprised at his own confidence, but he just rolled with it, as he usually did. Virgil's scowl just worsened, and he quietly said he had to use the restroom, leaving with hardly a sound. Patton just looked horrified, all the color having drained from his face. But no one was looking at him.

Logan turned around slowly, looking Roman in the eyes, half expecting him to have some silly grin on his face and say "haha, just kidding! Man, I really had you there!" or something of the like. But Roman just returned his gaze confidently, a small smile tracing his face.

"...You're serious?" Logan said after a long moment. Patton was praying that he wasn't.

"deadly," Said Roman, his smile widening slightly.

Logan thought for a long moment. "...w-well, I'm not sure that's appropriate, consid-"

"Come on, just one date. That's all." Roman pleaded.

"And what of your reputation? Won't people be jealous? What if someone does someth-"

"I promise, I'll keep my... fans... from messing with you, if that's your biggest worry. Please, please please?" Roman pressed.

"...A-and I'm not sure my parents would approve. They've never allowed me to be involved with anyone romantically before, so-"

"I'm sure they'll be more understanding this time around! Or, better yet, just don't tell them!" Roman countered. He had a glint of determination in his eyes, and Logan knew he wasn't going to back down. He spent a long moment trying to think of some conflicting factor, but he couldn't come up with a thing. He also considered simply telling him he wasn't interested, but that would be a lie. Despite his better nature, Roman did capture his attention.

And so, with a somewhat defeated tone, Logan sighed and pushed his glasses up again. "Fine. One date. But that is all. I wouldn't plan on-" Logan tried to be stern, but Roman was pumping his fists in the air excitedly.

"yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!!!! Woohoo!!!!!!! Be prepared for the most romantic and fantastical evening of your life, my Iron Giant Nerd!! How's Thursday sound?"

"That is... adequate," Logan responded, not knowing what else to say.

"Excellent! Just give me one moment." Roman pulled out his phone, and from what Logan could see, he was looking something up. "...Okay! Perfect. I'll pick you up at from your house at, say, 7?"

"okay. I'll text you the address beforehand." Logan said shortly. He then set the pots on the windowsill, assuring that they were receiving equal amounts of light. "Alright, I'm going to go wash my hands in the kitchen and get some water for our specimens. Roman, the kitchen is the first left down the hall, correct?" Roman nodded, and Logan left swiftly. Roman just punched the air a few more times, and then fell back on his bed with a plop.

Patton was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the ring on his right middle finger. Don't let it show.

He turned to address Roman, a smile gracing his face that few people would know was forced. "Congratulations on your first date, Roman! You guys make an adorable couple. I wish you a successful relationship!" He said.

Roman sat up and eyed him. "Really? I mean, from the way you and Logan were talking, I would've guessed you have a crush on-"

"Nope!" Patton said shortly, smiling more intensely. "I like Logan a lot as a friend, but I'm so glad he has you now! Well, hopefully. We'll see after your first date! What do you think, will he want to go on another one?" Patton waggled his eyebrows.

Roman delved back into his self-centered world once again, considering Patton's query. "Well, I certainly hope so. I'm quite... attracted to Logan, so hopefully we connect on an emotional and mental level as well. If I play my cards right, I think he'll fall for me." Roman idly speculated, smiling at Patton.

"I'm sure! I mean, you are such a charmer, from what I've seen. I-I mean no disrespect! I don't mean like that. I mean you have an inmate skill for attracting people! I think you have a shot." As Patton finished, Logan returned with clean hands and a spray bottle, walking over to the plants in the sill.

"Once again Patton, the word you mean to use is 'innate.' Don't worry, you'll get there." Logan assured, spritzing each plant exactly five times. "Roman, since you'll be the primary parent of these plants, i beg you, please don't falter in consistently watering them. five spritzes each, every day, preferably when you get home from school. If you don't have confidence in your commitment to this, as I don't, I suggest setting a reminder on your phone." Logan turned to Roman, watching expectantly for him to pull out his phone.

"Oh calm down, calculator watch. I have complete 'confidence in my commitment,' thank you very much," Roman said, earning a grimace from Logan, who then turned away and pulled out his own phone. Once Logan's attention was diverted, Roman did in fact pull out his phone and set a reminder for watering the cress.

Just as he was slipping his phone back into his pocket, Roman felt it buzz. "There's my address. Now, I'm going to call my parental units. I must be getting home, as I have work to do. For now, none of you should worry about the report itself, I'll be writing up a draft tonight and sharing it with each of you. Excuse me." And with that, Logan left the room once again to call his father, leaving Roman and Patton in silence.

Suddenly, Roman thought of something. "Hey, where's Virgil? Count Woe-laf may not be the best company, but it seems he's been absent for an excessive amount of time."

Patton didn't say anything as he listened to Roman, his thoughts quickly beginning to race. He's right. When did Virgil leave? Oh, when Roman first asked Logan. Oh, no... he wouldn't have been gone this long, unless-

Patton stood abruptly. "Wait here. I'll be right back." He said quickly, rushing out the door, leaving Roman to speculate.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #prinxiety #logicality #logan x patton #roman x virgil #high school au #slow burn

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jq37 · 5 years ago

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The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 11 In the Mountains of Sweetness

Requiem

The Rocks family is on the run but they’re also in mourning. As they sail up the Cola River, they stop to do repairs to the ship and pay their respects to Jet at a bright pink hill under a tree--her final resting place.

The remaining kids are in opposite worlds emotionally speaking--Liam is fully sobbing (which we find out later is largely him still being messed up over Preston) while Ruby is hollow and bitter. Amethar (after almost murdering a Jellybean farmer with poor timing who wanders onto the scene) eulogizes about how much Jet taught all of them (including that “to defeat monsters you must become one” which mmm don’t love where his head is at; also, Brennan says he seems to almost have this new sobriety which I think, mechanically, is him having taken a level of Battlemaster Fighter).

Cara, also a wreck as you’d expect, wonders if Jet died thinking she didn’t love her and wishes Jet would have just listened to her--something that Ruby takes as blaming Jet for her own death, causing her to stalk off. Cara is too in her grief to really react but Theo goes after her. As he does, Cumulous notices that, for a split second, Ruby’s shadow seemed to be out of sync with her actions. But only for a second.

When Theo catches up to her, Ruby gets really upset and says that she blames her parents, Lazuli, and herself for Jet’s death. Theo says that Jet wouldn’t have blamed her and that she died in battle, like she wanted. Even still, Ruby doesn’t know how she’s going to go on without her. Theo says that he takes comfort in Lazuli’s research and the thought that Jet might not be truly gone. She could be around and protecting them right now. “She was always protecting us,” Ruby says before mind-hopping into Yak and flying above the ship so she doesn’t have to deal with her emotions for the moment.

Once she’s gone, Theo breaks down for a second and then summons Sprinkle...to dismiss him. He tells Sprinkle he’s done a great job but he needs to go back where he came from and have Jet send a new familiar as a sign. Sprinkle tearfully leaves and, almost immediately (which is not how the spell traditionally works btw) a Black Licorice viper shows up which Theo names Princess and which bites him for no reason. Feels right.

Back at the grave-site, Cara starts to walk away but Amethar catches her and leads her back to the ship. They run into Theo and when she sees him with his new familiar, she goes off on him: Oh Jet is watching over us? Who was watching over her? And don’t think I don’t know about your crush on Lazuli. I have one daughter left. You think you can do a better job at protecting her? That kind of thing. She goes to board the ship but Amethar stays behind saying he’ll be with her in a minute, something that made *me* feel like I was about to get chewed out by Amethar’s wife.

Liam remembers that Cal--the traitor--saved Jack and Brie and decides to (as he is wont to do) ask about it in the clumsiest way possible. Jack says that they didn’t meet up with Cal on purpose or anything--they just happened to stumble across him and, now that he thinks about it, it was weirdly easy the way Cal got them through enemy lines and stuff. He seems pretty on the level so Liam does his Ranger thing to check for danger while they’re docked.

Back with Theo and Amethar, Theo says he’s fine so Amethar catches up with Cara and says that she can’t turn on Theo like that. They don’t have a lot of allies left. On a dirty 20 Persuasion check, we are spared the marital spat of a lifetime and instead she just presses herself against him and he brings her into a hug.

Sweet Life on Deck*

*I knew I’d get to use it eventually!

The next day, as they set sail, Cara apologizes to Theo for taking her grief out on him and he’s very gracious about it--also assuring her that he doesn’t hate her for winning Lazuli’s affections as she suggested nor does he have a crush on her--he just strongly believes in her ideals.

Cumulous finds Ruby to have a chat with her about his favorite topic (well second fave after magical items)--death. Ruby says that, with Jet dead, all she cares about is revenge and that she’s dead inside. Cumulous, who clearly doesn’t have Inspiring Speech on his character sheet (or, if he does, learned from Kristen), rambles about death for a bit before saying that though they’ll all die eventually, she doesn’t have to die yet and gives Ruby his necklace from Lazuli. She pockets it and walks away.

Liam, with his Ranger senses, knows they’re being followed but also knows that they have the jump on them so they shouldn’t have a problem staying ahead. Jack and Amethar have a heart to heart wherein Jack blames himself for spilling the beans about Ghee and Amethar says it’s not his fault. They reaffirm that they’re in it together for the long haul.

In the night, Liam has an intense dream involving familiar snarling, heat, smoke, chocolate, and cinnamon. Ruby wakes up in the middle of the night with Lazuli’s necklace glowing a little bit. The glow fades and then she notices, like Cumulous did, that her shadow is a little off--but it quickly corrects itself. All messed up, she goes onto the deck and finds that she can suddenly see perfectly in the dark. And, on a Nat 20 Perception check, she sees that the eye of the Lazuli necklace is a little creased, like it has smile lines. It glows brightly and casts her shadow on the wall--except it’s not the shadow she should have. It looks like her except the hair--the hair is in a long braid. Ruby presses her forehead against the forehead of the shadow and finds that it’s warm. And, as she does so, she fully breaks down for the first time since Jet’s death and the shadow does so alongside her. (Mechanically speaking, Ruby took a level of Shadow Sorcerer).

In the morning they dock, having gotten as far up the river as the ship can take them. It’s a long trip to the mountains and Muffinfield--Cal’s territory--is in their path. They have the option to go through the town fully, take the more off the beaten path route, or a little of both but either way it’s gonna take at least a full week (and up to three if they fully avoid the town). They decide to take the hybrid route which takes them into Muffinfield to begin with. It’s a rich province and very Bulbian. Tons of Imperial guards, tons of churches, and, in fact, they see a church putting on one of those puppet show/morality plays. Amethar makes the, mmm, unwise decision to check it out and sees that it’s a play about the Rocks family, depicting him as a horny lout, Cara as an airheaded bimbo, and the twins as feral bastards. Ruby sets the puppets on fire and Amethar hustles her away before she can do something more rash.

After that, they get to the woods--staying for a night with a lady so old and out of touch that she doesn’t even know that Amethar’s dad isn’t king anymore. Theo thanks Liam for saving Jet’s body and they bond over how much rage they have over, like, everything that's happened.

The Gang Gets Scooped

When they get back on the road (with some not so hot stealth checks), they see a little gingerbread guy in a Peter Pan cap who’s trying to pull his friend out from under a rock. Theo, knight to his core, rushes to help but Liam, who’s on the warpath, decides to shoot him. An insane course of action but he’s not wrong because a net captures both Theo and the gingerbread man and this turns out to be an ambush. The “friend” was a doll and the Gingerbread man (Swifty is his name) pulls a lollipop shiv on Theo because of course. When Theo says he’s not pro-Bulb, Swifty calls for Gooey--the chief marauder who is this buff warrior woman with half her face melted (like melted chocolate) like she was badly burned. She and this chocolate viking dude (Jon Bon) discuss whether they should take the group to the queen, which they decide to do, shackling everyone (though Liam and Ruby successfully conceal their thieves' tools in their hands for a later escape). At the mention of the queen, the assembled marauders start chanting “Long live the queen”--harkening back to the mountain gratifi from two episodes ago. They take them to their secret hideout in the mountains while Swifty runs ahead to let them know they’re coming.

All their captors are Candian but they’re all deformed in some way and/or have old Sucrosi tattoos and Sweetening Path stuff, ears of Ceresians/Vegetanians on necklaces (EARS BRENNAN?), and defiled Bulbian relics. They’re from all over but they seem like they’ve been living this life for years.

The hideout is kinda built into the cliff side and it has this big rock outside like the standing stones the SPF has (menhir is the technical term). It’s also covered in a layer of snow and very cold. Magical light is glowing as they pass through the entrance. Cumulous can feel very powerful magic at work. There’s a ton of ceremony and fanfare and chanting in advance of the queen’s arrival--these people seem to really love their queen, and so do we because out comes Queen Saccharina Frostwhip aka, Emily’s new character (aka Rina because I’m not typing that every time)!

She is this extremely cool (in both senses of the word) ice-cream sorcerer with a magic staff (Winterscoop) and two swords and is majorly serving sweet but frosty-cool energy. Liam and Ruby spring everyone from their chains and Rina aggressively sweetly says that she would have freed them soon enough. She calls herself the legal ruler of Candia and when Cara questions that she says that she has another last name: Ghee. Amethar, is like, “Oh shit,” but she says that she’s not here to force a relationship on him, she just thinks they can all be useful to each other, especially since she’s the legal heir as the child of his legal marriage and someone not in open rebellion with the Concord. Theo is like, “That all checks out.” He asks Amethar if this is actually his kid and he sees in Rina Ghee’s eyes and his own swagger. Yeah, that’s his kid. In turn, she recognizes Cumulous as a monk of the Order of the Spinning Star. She, like half the party it feels--is a huge Lazuli stan, can feel her magic on him, and believes in her mission. She says she’s seen Lazuli in her dreams when she was little and Cumulous in her sees someone who can, in a lot of ways, take up Lazuli’s mantle and start rebuilding Candian magic rather than just doing triage like the monks have been. He bows to her. Ruby is not having any of this though and says that Rina isn’t her sister or her queen.

Theo asks Princess if they should trust her--she’s saying all the right things but he’s wary--and gets a bite which tells him nothing.

Ice Feast

Rina, upon being told special guests were coming, had a feast prepared which is described as Robin Hood-y. Amethar is like, “This is cool but the Bulbian church is literally trying to kill us so maybe we focus on that?” Rina says that that works for her. All Amethar has to do is recognize her as his daughter and heir and everything will be square--if the church wants to go after them at that point, they’ll have to break their own rules. Ruby, who’s still being obstinate says that it won’t work because she’s clearly a heretic with an allegiance to the Sweetening Path but Rina says and Jack confirms that as long as you kiss the ring in public, no one really cares what you do on your home turf.

Ruby accuses her of not knowing what she’s talking about because she’s been hidden away her whole life and Rina shoots back (still smiling) that she’s actually been traveling the world, building her followers from scratch which she had to do because she came from nothing. Amethar (who’s in the, I would have to imagine, pretty novel position of watching his daughters fight) breaks it up. Cara--who fully hates that not only is this happening, it’s also their best shot--takes Ruby with her to have their meal somewhere else and Ruby, who has found someone to hate more than her mom, willingly goes.

Rina has a sidebar with Amethar where she apologizes for popping up randomly and upsetting his entire family. She always wanted to meet them and she’s sorry that these are the circumstances. Amethar says that it’s not her fault--they’ve just been through a hell of a lot lately and they’re kind of emotionally spent but she’s actually a huge asset to them politically right now and he’s sure that once things are calm, things will be different on the relationship front.

Ruby can’t believe Cara is taking all of this lying down and Cara (who is full John Mulaney, “This might as well happen,”) says she can’t remember the last time she had a handle on her life which is news to Ruby who thought she *was* the handle. Cara hits her with the unfortunate truth that no one--least of all kings and queens--knows what they’re doing or can really control it. All she can control is what she’s doing next which is having a bath. Ruby decides to, instead, cast Invisibility and look around for anything suspicious.

After seeing a bunch of stolen loot, weapons, and Candian artifacts it seems like Rina’s trying to preserve, she eventually finds Rina in her quarters. On a 25 Perception to Ruby’s 24 Stealth, Rina clocks her and whispers, “I’m not here to take your family, little sister. I look forward to the day that we are friends.” Ruby, channeling Adaine in a big way, flips invisible double middle fingers.

Cumulous is in another room, just fanboy happy-crying over all of Rina’s magic stuff in some of the funniest scenes Zac has ever done which is saying a lot. I cannot overstate how funny Zac crying over an imaginary ring pop is.

Theo also finds Rina and asks about her visions of Lazuli. She says it happened when she was very young and her powers were just manifesting. She was in a place where magic wasn’t supported and the connection was all but beaten out of her. But she can also sense Lazuli’s presence in Theo. Ruby, still invisible, pipes up that she sees Lazuli too so she’s not special and Rina shoots back that she can also see Ruby while invisible, which is pretty special. This dissolves into a little sibling spat which Rina says she enjoys because she’s never had a sister to fight with before. The comment sets off Ruby again who says she already had a sister and she’s dead and she can’t replace her. She runs off.

Theo and Rina speak a little more and she reveals that she doesn’t really care about the throne. She just cares about bringing back magic and destroying the church (which means she’ll fit right in with the rest of the fam--not really wanting the throne and plotting against the church. The family business).

After the feast, Gooey brings out the war maps (moving the Jawbreaker flag away from Castle Manylicks and deeper into the mountain and putting an ice cream cone flag deep into the mountains) and a bunch of magic tomes which Rina starts reading. Ruby notices that a lot of the tomes are written in Lazuli’s hand, she had a way to tap into the SPF’s runes, and that she wrote some kind of warning about the SPF--Lazuli did not trust or revere the SPF. Liam sees a book with the same ice cream symbol as the flag on the map and it’s a book of lost beast lore--including an ancient spirit described on pages scented like cinnamon and seemingly bound in some way (and also amongst a lot of SPF talk): Dracoria Azucar (or, Sugar Dragon).

Anyway, Rina says that the SPF has done a lot to suppress Lazuli’s research (she’s not sure if she thinks it’s too dangerous or if she’s hoarding it or what) including taking all of her coolest relics and findings and hiding them in a frozen temple--the Ice Cream Temple. She wants to loot that temple. (Note: She also mentions that Kerradin visited her orphanage when she was little which...Bad). She’s sent raid parties who haven’t come back but they weren’t super powerful--she has a lot of angry, rescued orphans in her service. The gang more or less agrees to her plan--even Ruby reluctantly, but Ruby hears the SPF on the wind, “Things that are wrong may yet be made right. There is more than one true magician in Candia, Princess and I await your coming and will be delighted for your wish to come true.”

A Change of Plans

In the morning, they decide Cara will stay with Jack and the marauders while they (and some of Jack’s men) go on their mission. When Jack offhandedly says that Ghee was lovely, Rina says they had very different experiences with her. Ominous!

Theo asks what’s going on with the Jawbreaker situation and she says that they’re in kind of a pissing contest--he won’t recognize her claim to the throne. Gooey pulls Rina aside and informs her (for the first time it seems) that Jawbreaker has left the Castle because people in the area were being tortured by Ceresian soldiers (wasn’t specified but I’m guessing Imperials) to draw him out and now he’s pinned down in the mountains. Rina (along w/ Gooey and Swifty) consider that if they help Jawbreaker, he’ll be more likely to acknowledge her claim to the throne. But, if they don’t and they let him die, Liam will be heir and he’s already on Team Rina. In the end, she decides to tell the group and they are keen on rescuing Jawbreaker--even though Liam is concerned because he knows his dad will never give up the throne.

Everyone seems pretty gung ho about this except for Ruby who is like, “Hello we’re super outnumbered.” Cara has a solution to that however. She’s been up all night reading Lazuli’s books and she thinks she can bamf them past enemy lines if they can get to the nearby Spinning Star monastery. She can get them back too but because there’s not a teleportation circle where they’re going, she has to basically do the magical equivalent of holding her breath or remembering a really long series of numbers while they get in and get out. They won’t have much time.

They go to the monastery (where Rina’s anti-monarchical sentiments wins her another new fan in another monk named Snicker-Snack because sure) and Cumulous kills a chicken for that sweet temp HP. Cara says, “Lazuli, please help me get this right,” before performing her magic and sending them all to a dark, locked, musty building. They can hear Ceresian soldiers shouting outside--and that’s where we end our episode!

Note: You can find the art for the new characters this episode on the D20 tumblr here! Once again, Samir is coming for some of y’all specifically with some of these designs.

Things I’m Concerned About

I’m gonna separate my thoughts on Rina across these two sections because my thoughts are hard in separate directions. I *love* Rina but I have to be honest with myself and say that if she was an NPC, I fully wouldn’t trust her. She comes in at the exact right time saying all the right things and coming with a major plot solution. She says she doesn’t care about the throne and she only wants to destroy the church (something that would make sense considering the backstory hints the dropped) and we haven’t had PvP before but like...if there was a season to do it...listen, I want her to just be this cool orphan who sincerely wants justice and a relationship with her dad and sister if that’s on the table but I’m just keeping my eye on her. (Also, when Gooey pulled her aside to have that troop movement convo I feared it was going to go in a much more suspicious direction.)

There’s a part that I kinda glossed over where Brennan says Manta Ray Jack looked at Rina “bashfully” and Rina took it as, “He’s gonna ask me out,” and rebuffed his advances. I feel like that’s not what that was about. That doesn’t mean it’s anything actively bad--maybe him remembering her mom?--but idk, I don’t like feeling like I’m missing something.

Oh, and speaking of her mom? Rina saying he had a different experience of her mom than she did combined with Rina saying her connection to Lazuli was “all but beaten out of her” plus the out of game knowledge that something related to child neglect happens in a few eps that’s so bad that Brennan hurt himself...It paints a Bad picture.

Once again, I am Concerned about everything going on with the SPF. What did she mean there’s more than one magician? Was she referring to Ruby? Does she want Ruby to PvP Rina? She better not.

Little concerned about Annabelle’s side mission to find Ghee. I was before but now I am even more.

Five A Few More Things

I want to believe that Jet is both partially inhabiting Princess and doing the Shadow Sorc thing with Ruby. The Pontifex works hard but Jet Rocks works harder.

OK, let’s talk about what I call The Inherent Tragedy of Saccharina Frostwhip (*such* a good name, btw). If Ruby and Jet had met Rina *together* (either during peace times or having rolled a high enough Insight check to clock her as an ally during the present events) they would have loved her completely immediately. She’s got Cool Big Sister written all over her: cool design, martial prowess and magic, anti-monarchy and anti-Bulbian Church BUT willing to take the throne in their stead. They would have LOVED her. BUT, Rina wasn’t an NPC. She was Emily’s backup character. Which means that, because of the way our world bisects the world of Candia, there is never a world where Jet is alive while Rina comes into play. That’s tragic, man. That’s the worst. And when I say that’s the worst, I mean the best. This makes for such delicious story. You guys know I’m a full sucker for sister stuff. Which we were already getting but this is *complicated* sister stuff which we all know is better. Like, if this is where we’re starting emotionally, do you know good it’s gonna hit if Ruby eventually comes around on her? Siobhan and Emily are catering to me specifically this season.

Also, that reveal? Within like five minutes, my theory that “the Queen” in question was Amethar’s first kid was confirmed, my circa episode 3 prediction that a twin would die and come back as Amethar’s first kid was confirmed, AND my prediction from last episode that the SPF was telling a technical truth about Ruby finding her sister was confirmed. (Literal) sweet vindication! Can I do lotto numbers? No. But plot points for a Candy/GoT mashup? I’m your gal.

Lol at someone mentioning Ghee as Amethar’s wife with Cara standing right there and Amethar fully WWE bodyslaming that dude with tag-teams for the entire family.

People are saying it seems like Rina is a Storm Sorcerer which would be cool seeing as Amethar is a Storm Herald Barbarian. Family parallels even without really knowing each other.

Cara--who better survive this or I will Riot--needs like a 6 month spa trip after this is over. What she is dealing with right now is untenable and she is handling it much better than I would be honestly. (But also her, “lol, my life is in shambles,” to Liam’s inappropriate question that didn’t even really register to her at that point was another comedy highlight of the ep. Icon, even in mourning.)

Lazuli might as well be a PC for how important she is to this campaign.

Ooooh, Sugar Dragon for Liam? Brennan has outdone himself. (Unless Liam is gonna have to fight the Sugar Dragon which I am also super down for. As I was just discussing, there are never enough dragons in D&D for a game that’s half named after them).

Shout out to this post for making me short circuit for a full second. Ow.

It’s a little funny that Brennan laid the groundwork for Emily’s background character in the middle of the episode he knew was gonna end with him trying to kill them. Like, OK, your future is secure, now time to destroy your present!

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report #is Jon Bon CoC hodor?#idk enough about GoT to confirm or reject that but that my my immediate thought for some reason

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diamcndgirl · 4 years ago

Photo

under the ‘read more’ you will find a full interview about the one and only penelope hainline.

BASIC QUESTIONS

first name? penelope.

surname? hainline.

middle names? bernadette (after the broadway legend bernadette peters).

nicknames? penny (most common) and miss piggy.

date of birth? may twenty-eight, 1998.

age? twenty-three.

PHYSICAL / APPEARANCE

height? 5′2.

weight? 120lbs.

build? athletic/small.

hair colour? blonde, but known to wear different wigs.

eye colour? bright blue.

glasses or contact lenses? glasses for fashion and fashion only.

distinguishing facial features? her big eyes and tooted up nose.

which bodily feature is most prominent? chest. while she lost most of her weight her chest is still relatively large for her size.

make up? penny loves make up, spends almost as much time doing her make up as she does picking out her outfit.

type of clothes? all types of clothes! she loves clothes but is known mostly for her high fashion looks. she creates her own outfits from time to time. but she loves high fashion and designer clothes.

how do they wear their clothes? penelope has an outfit for literally every occasion. basketball game? she’s got a jersey with her name bedazzled across the back in pink. painting? she’s got a total get up and special painting beret. her clothes are an extension of herself. she loves having fun with her clothes.

race / ethnicity? white.

are they in good health? over all, yes. she’s slimmed down and is in a lot better shape. she does karate/kick boxing to keep in shape but honestly she still eats like a pig.

PERSONALITY

what words or phrases do they overuse? “excusze moi”, “moi”, “thank yoooou.”, “oh dear..”, “totally”, “shut up!!”.

are they more optimistic or pessimistic? hmm, is there a middle ground? honestly, overly optimistic about her own talents and overly pessimistic of other’s. she is absolutely positive she’s perfect at everything she does.. but as for other people? it’s all their fault anything goes wrong.

are they introverted or extroverted? extroverted, extroverted, extroverted!

do they ever put on airs? literally all the time. like i said penelope thinks she’s perfect at everything straight out the gate... doesn’t matter if she’s done it before or not. which means she always puts on a front like she is great at everything.

what bad habits do they have? not many, her mother was good for breaking bad habits young. but, the ones that stuck are: emotional shopping, emotional eatting, sleeping in, and interrupting people.

what makes them laugh out loud? a lot. penny laughs at everything and anything.

how do they display affection? physical touch and gift giving... she’s always been one for big displays of affection. so she’s one for holding hands, kissing in public, and showing out with big gifts.

how do they want to be seen by others? perfect. she wants to be seen as perfect. anything less is just a no.

how do they see themselves? not so perfect. while she acts like it on the inside she is constantly nit picking herself, the way she dresses, and every little thing about herself.

strongest character trait? tenacious. she’s got a strong grip on herself and her life.

weakest character trait? overly confident. while she’s got a go and get it personality she also has a tendency to over over board and think bigger than her ability.

how competitive are they? extremely.

do they make snap judgments or take time to consider? snap judgments all the time with everything. then it takes a good while to convince her she’s not correct about it.

how do they react to praise? highly. she loves praise. anything to hear that she’s as wonderful as she thinks. “oh please. you’re so silly.. tell me more.”

how do they react to criticism? not good.. she hates being told she could be better at something.

what is their greatest fear? failing. be it in her career choice or relationships. to fail means her mother was right and so were all the kids when she was younger.

what is their philosophy of life? go big or go home.

what will they stand up for? their friends. what they believe in. people with smaller voices than her own.

are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? indoors.

what is their sinful little habit? kissing strangers when she’s tipsy.

what sense do they most rely on? her sixth sense-- or at least that’s what she says. penelope picks up ‘vibes’.

what quality do they most value in a friend? loyalty.. and a good fashion sense.

what do they consider an overrated virtue? forgiveness. you don’t always have to forgive someone.

if they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

what is their obsession? fashion, rupaul’s drag race, kylie minogue, and fancy chocolate.

FRIENDS AND FAMILY

is their family big or small? who does it consist of? small. there are only three members: her mother bonnie a retired model, her father jim a business lawyer, and herself.

what is their perception of family? she loves her parents. they gave her everything she could ever want.. but they did let her down in a lot of ways. so it’s a tad screwed.

do they have siblings? none that she knows of. her father wasn’t a very faithful man and neither was her mother.

describe their best friend. penelope had a best friend growing up. kaiden russel. sadly, after going into high school the pair didn’t stay connected and she moved onto a more popular crowd and hasn’t truly had a ‘best friend’ since then.

ideal best friend? hm, someone who can keep up with her all the while keeping her in line. someone who listens and doesn’t mind her rambling. also they’ve got to have a great fashion sense and killer personality.

describe their other friends. penelope has loads of friends. while she may be a bit of a mean girl she doesn’t have trouble making friends. especially since moving to elias. she’s been able to calm down on the venom and let friendships grow.. she still worries about people not

do they have any pets? back home she has a biscon friese named pinky. she’s trying to convince her land lord to allow the dog to stay.

who are their natural allies? wally, georgette, daphne, and buzz.

who are their surprising allies? rita. they’re very much opposites attract and have a surprisingly great friendship. while they’re an odd pair penny has her back just like rita has pen’s.

PAST AND FUTURE

what was your character like as a baby? as a child? loud, chubby, and a little too in your face.

did they grow up rich or poor? rich. her parents wouldn’t have it any other way.

did they grow up nurtured or neglected? right in the middle. one parent nurtured with gifts and the other neglected with words.

what is their greatest achievement? prom queen, except it was a fluke. next would be getting into walt academy.

what was their first kiss like? hm, not great. it was with the smelly boy on the back of the bus because the cool kids dared her.. she was promised to sit at their lunch table then got tricked.

what is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? she told her mom she hated her.. like multiple times.

what are their ambitions? become a fashion mogul and build a huge empire.

what advice would they give their younger self? don’t listen to axel.. ever.

what smells remind them of their childhood? chocolate and tears.

what was their childhood ambition? be the next britney spears.

did they have an imaginary childhood friend? she didn’t have many friends besides kaidan. so she created friends from her stuffed animals.

when was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? besides being stood up.. probably being told her latest design wasn’t good by her teacher.

LOVE

do they believe in love at first sight? yes, she’s a hopeless romantic.

are they in a relationship? clearly not.

how do they behave in a relationship? she’s a fun partner. but she’s very about herself. while she’ll cover them with attention and love.. she’ll always be her first priority.

when did you character last have sex? it’s been a hot minute. penny isn’t big on hook ups. she wants to be in love.. or in ‘really like’ before she puts that out there.

what sort of sex do they have? again she wants to make love not have sex. she’s more about pleasing and being pleased. and she just really loves kissing and cuddling.

has your character ever been in love? nope, she doesn’t even know what it feels like.

have they ever had their heart broken? her feelings hurt but her heart wasn’t broken by axel. just hurt really bad.

CONFLICT

how do they respond to a threat? with a bigger threat back. penelope is very confrontational.

are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? tongue, girl has a mouth and can say very hateful and mean things.

if your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? her diary. she’s kept one since she was a child. it’s important to her.

what are their phobias? spiders and bugs in general.

what is their choice of weapon? her purse and the taser she keeps in it.

what living person do they most despise? axel and his band.

have they ever been bullied or teased? yeah, her whole childhood.

where do they go when they’re angry? to cry in a pillow then to the gym to punch away her aggression.

WORK, EDUCATION AND HOBBIES

what is their current job? jobless socialite student.

what are their hobbies? fashion design/sewing, karaoke, and karate.

educational background? she’s currently in college for fashion design.

intelligence level? she’s about a 8/10 on the intelligence scale. she has always done well in school but def isn’t a valedictorian.

do they have a natural talent for something? sewing. she can make an outfit in under an outfit and it will be perfect.

do they play a sport? are they any good? kick boxing, doll. she’s great. and karate. she’s a black belt you know!

FAVORITES

what is their favorite animal? her pup. but she likes flamingos strangely enough.

which animal do they dislike the most? spiders.. and bats.

what place would they most like to visit? paris. again and again and again. she hopes to live their one day. but as far as new place to visit would be london.

what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? can she say her own reflection?

what is their favorite song? love at first sight by kylie minogue or the call by the backstreet boys.

music, art, reading preferred? ooo, this is hard for her because fashion is art to her but she loves singing. we’ll say art to be safe.

what is their favorite color? pink, all day everyday.

POSSESSIONS

what is in their fridge? lots of leftovers and food prep. penny doesn’t cook very well.

what is on their bedside table? a picture of her puppy, her phone, a ring dish with her everyday jewelry, and a cute lamp.

what is in their purse or wallet? junk on top of junk and things she needs to clean out.

what is their most treasured possession? her diary and her grandmother wedding band.

SPIRITUALITY

who or what is your character’s guardian angel? she’d believe it’s her father’s mother but then again with her fate she doesn’t think she has one.

do they believe in the afterlife? yes. but she’s not sure it’s like the ‘good book’ says.

what are their religious views? believes in a god but is not practicing any strict religion.

what do they think heaven is? heaven would be a happy life where she’s treated like a princess on a throne.

what do they think hell is? reliving prom night over and over again.

are they superstitious? a bit. she wont place her purse on the ground, doesn’t step on cracks, and little things like that.

what would they like to be reincarnated as? hm, a butterfly.

how would they like to die? in their sleep.

what is your character’s spirit animal? a peacock.

what is their zodiac sign? gemini sun, gemini moon, cancer ascending.

VALUES

what do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? murder.. or having their heart broken.

what is their view of ‘freedom’? she’s not sure... it seems like there isn’t such a thing these days.

when did they last lie? she told her teacher her outfit was cute.. it wasn’t. it was tacky and she hated it.

what’s their view of lying? penny doesn’t lie often.. maybe fib and tell little white lies.. but never about anything major.

when did they last make a promise? hm, she doesn’t really make promises because it’s hard for her to keep them.

did they keep or break their last promise? again.. she probably broke it.

DAILY LIFE

what are their eating habits? awful. she works out to keep off the pounds.. but penny has never ate healthy and probably never will.

describe their home. chic chaos? clothes and accessories everywhere, pictures of herself and pup everywhere, her sewing station a hot mess.. lots of color and fun.

are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? clutter hoarder.

what do they do first thing on a weekday morning? drink water and write in her dream journal.

what do they do on a sunday afternoon? her weekly skin care routine.

what do they do on a friday night? a night on the town. she’s probably dragging a friend to karaoke or on a ‘friend date’.

what is the soft drink of choice? she’s a mountain dew girl.

what is their alcoholic drink of choice? sangria or margaritas. she’s simple.

MISCELLANEOUS

what or who would your character dress up as for halloween? probably wanda from wanda vision.. she has no idea. or she’ll try to get a date and force them to be her vision. or maybe princess peach.

are they comfortable with technology? very much so. social media queen.

if they could call one person for help, who would it be? probably howl.. she just learned about magic.. that has to fix everything.

what is their greatest extravagance? her princess tiara, her father bought when she turned sixteen. it’s diamond encrusted and also has pink diamonds.

what is their perception of redemption? obviously she think shes got the greatest redemption story of all time.

what would they do if they won the lottery? give it to charity for publicity... whoops.

what is their favourite fairytale? the twelve dancing princesses.

what fairytale do they hate? princess and the pea.

do they believe in happy endings? yes, and she hopes she gets one.

what is their idea of perfect happiness? honestly, a good marriage and sucessful career.

what would they ask a fortune teller? who she’s going to marry and if he’s loaded.

if your character could travel through time, where would they go? to meet anne boleyn and tell her what’s going to happen.

what sport do they excel at? karate.

what sport do they suck at? anything with a ball.

if they could have a superpower, what would they choose? super strength or flying.

#watask #「 ❀ 」 » TASKS. ⋮ ━━ ˗ˏˋ 𝖤𝖷𝖢𝖴𝖲𝖤𝖹-𝖬𝖮𝖨! ˎˊ˗

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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April 1, 2021: The Gold Rush (1925)

If I’m going to start anywhere, it’s right at the beginning.

There’s absolutely no way I can start this month off without jumping headlong into the slapstick-filled era of the 1920s-1930s, and that begins (and arguably ends) with the man, the myth, the legend: Charlie Chaplin. And Chaplin’s got an interesting and tragic backstory, that it’s worth looking into. And he won’t be the first film star I get into, but we’ll get there.

Born in London in 1889, Chaplin was essentially raised in the world of the theatre, as both of his parents were entertainers. Raised in immense hardship and poverty, Chaplin’s early life wasn’t easy. His father left the family, and his mother struggled to provide. Eventually, she ended up becoming committed to an asylum, which led Charlie and his brother to live with their alcoholic father, which didn’t last long. Yikes.

Eventually, both parents were out of the picture by the time that Charlie was 14, with his father head, and his mother generally unwell, physically and mentally. Additionally, his brother enrolled in the military, leaving him completely alone. He left school and went to work, eventually becoming embroiled in the theatre and stage, and in 1908, the 19-year old Charlie joined a major theatre troupe, alongside another young actor named Stan Laurel. And in 1912, the group toured in the United States, where he was found by the head of the now defunct Keystone Studios, who were looking for a new star.

The first movie, Making a Living, didn’t go great for Chaplin or critics. But they didn’t give up, and put Chaplin in a second film: Mabel’s Strange Predicament. Here, Chaplin decided on a new costume. He wanted baggy pants, a tight coat, small hat, large shoes, and a little moustache. And with that outfit came the birth Chaplin’s most iconic character: The Tramp.

And BAM: history’s made. Because this film is RIDICULOUSLY successful, and very popular. A hell of a lot of films come from this, and by 1915, Chaplin was the biggest star in Hollywood history at the time. By 30 years old, he had founded his own studio, was funding his own pictures, and was the most well-known man in the United States outside of the President. And this was before he made his first feature film, The Kid.

1921 was the year that film came out, and I was originally going for that one as my first review...but I decided against it, in favor of another of his most famous films, The Gold Rush, which came out in 1925. By this point, Chaplin had also become a director, alongside actor and producer. He also...had done some not amazing things by this point. Yeah, Chaplin wasn’t the best dude, but that’s another story. I’m here to talk about this film, not about his real shitty track record with women and abandoning his children. Chaplin is a dark man with a dark history, I’ll just say that much.

But enough of that (for now)! Let’s get into the man and his works! After all, Chaplain also pioneered visual comedy in film, so this is going to be an interesting film! Let’s get into The Gold Rush! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

First things first, I’d like to make something clear: I’m watching the 1925 version, reconstructed using some footage from the 1942 re-release, which added narration to it. Because I’m interested in seeing the original, as meant to be seen by Chaplin back in the day, I’m not looking at the re-release at all. But if you’re interested (and have the subscription), BOTH are available on HBO Max!

We begin at the top of Chilkoot Pass in Alaska, a difficult terrain and a challenge to anyone looking to make it rich in the Klondike. Men are hiking up the mountain in hardship, to try get their riches. This takes place at some point between 1898 and 1899, by the way. One of these men is a Lone Prospector, AKA The Tramp (Charlie Chaplin), who walks along the narrow path while being pursued by a bear, but eventually escapes said bear, finding himself on the snowy mountainside.

Also here is fellow prospector Big Jim McKay (Mack Swain), who’s just struck it rich. But then, as both men are on the mountainside, a snowstorm hits. The Lone Prospector finds his way to a small cabin, in which the wanted criminal Black Larsen resides.

The Lone Prospector makes his way inside, where he finds and eats a partially eaten rack of meat. However, Larsen tells him to get out, opening the door, causing the wind to get in. In a humorous sequence, the wind is so strong that it prevents the Prospector from leaving, an blows Jim McKay literally though the building. But soon, all three are in the cabin.

Larsen now tries to get both of them out with the threat of violence. He fires a warning shot with a shotgun, leading to struggle between Jim and Larsen for the gun, with Jim gaining the upper hand and allowing the Prospector and Larsen to stay. The storm persists for three days, and the men grow hungrier and hungrier in the process. All the while, the shack becomes ever closer to just toppling over from the storm winds.

The Prospector ends up eating a candle with sat, he’s so desperate, and the men use a pack of cards to decide who’s going out into the storm to look for food. Larsen loses, and he heads out with his dog (who CLEARLY isn’t into this whole thing, by the way). But Larsen’s still running from the police, who are hunkered down in the storm. They find him, and another struggle ensues, leading to Larsen killing them both in the snow, and stealing their supplies. Meanwhile, in the cabin, then men are so hungry that they prepare one of the Prospector’s shoes. Delicious.

As these two dine on this Thanksgiving meal (which is shown in very funny detail, including eating the laces as spaghetti), Larsen actually stumbles upon Jim’s gold, and he hunkers down there through the storm. This leaves the men to starve in the cabin, and also leads to...a very ironic sequence, now that I think about it.

See, this film was mostly made in Truckee, California. And the most iconic thing about Truckee is that it’s the resting place of a group of travelers on the Oregon Trail. See, in 1846, a group of settlers took the wrong pathway on some bad advice, and wound up stranded in the snow as a result of one of the worst blizzards in California history. This party of travelers, known as the Donner Party (YUP), starved for WEEKS, trapped in essentially a snow pit. 87 settlers went in, and 48 came out. Most died of the cold or starvation. And some survived by, well...eating the dead. Yup. Cannibalism. Which is why this is so ironic.

For a hot second, Jim sees the Prospector as a delicious chicken, and ties to eat him, firing at him with a shot gun and driving him outside. Realizing his delirium, he quickly apologizes, and the two make tentative amends. However, in self-defense, the Prospector takes to sleeping with the shotgun. The next morning, the two struggle for the gun, and Big Jim nearly kills the Prospector, but is interrupted by the return of the bear!

The Prospector shoots the bear, and the two finally have food to eat. Soon after, the storm subsides, and the two head their separate ways, with Jim going back to claim his gold fortune, and the Prospector left in the snowy wilderness. By the way, EVERY SINGLE TIME I type “the Prospector”, I start typing “the Tramp” first, then correct myself. Despite this being the first Chaplin movie I’ve ever seen, it’s such an iconic character that I can’t help but think of him as the Tramp. I’ll probably slip up at some point later without catching it.

Big Jim returns to his camp, where Larsen ambushes him, knocking him out and stealing some of his gold. However, he’s pretty quickly killed by an avalanche, while Jim has completely lost his memory from the low of a shovel. The Prospector, meanwhile, makes his way to a nearby boomtown, built with the profits from the rush in the Gold Rush.

In this boomtown, we meet Georgia (Georgia Hale), a popular dancer that works in a local dance hall. One of Georgia’s fellow dancers has gone off with a wealthy benefactor, leaving her behind. At the hall, she’s being pursued by Jack Cameron (Malcolm Waite), an aggressive lout who’s pestering her for a dance. And just then, who should walk in?

Georgia pretty clearly wants out of the dance hall life, and is also looking for somebody to take her away from this place. However, that somebody is CLEARLY not the Prospector, whom she completely ignores. But when Jack comes back around to force her into a dance, she decides to dance with the most undesirable person in the place instead: the Prospector.

So, while this act is borne of pure spite for Jack, it’s still a dance. It’s interrupted by a nearby dog, but Georgia enjoys the dance quite a bit, to her surprise. Jack is still after her, and the Prospector actually comes to defend her, standing in his way when he tries to pursue her. This, predictably, leads to a fight between the two, during which Jack accidentally gets knocked out by a clock, which the Prospector takes as his own actions, strolling off in pride.

The next morning, the Prospector essentially tricks a man into bringing him inside his cabin to get a free breakfast. This is Hank Curtis (Henry Bergman), who welcomes him into his home for food, and to take care of the cabin in his stead. Curtis owns a mine with his partner, and they head there, leaving the Prospector in his home. All the while, Big Jim is wandering through the wilderness, trying to remember where his gold is.

Georgia is out and about as well, having some fun with friends away from the dance hall. They run around in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. And as this is right outside of the cabin, of course the Prospector gets hit by one of them. Feeling penitent, Georgia goes into his cabin, after he invites the girls in for a warm fire. She finds a picture of her from the dance hall underneath the Prospector’s pillow, which the other girls mock. But Georgia is at least a little sympathetic.

This pleasant moment is interrupted by one of the girls’ cigarettes lighting the Prospector’s shoes on fire, causing all of them to rush out of the cabin. However, before they leave, the Prospector asks if Georgia would like to come to dinner, which she assumes refers to all of the girls. Still, she accepts, which overjoys the lovelorn Prospector.

But the Prospector, of course, doesn’t exactly have a lot of money; that’s why he’s out here in the first place. So, he goes around town and does some work for money, such as snow-shoveling. He also blocks the jail door with a giant pile of snow in the process, which doesn’t make them very happy. BUT STILL, he gets anough money, and by the time New Years’ comes around, he’s got enough money for a nice meal and a well-made dinner for him and Georgia, with whom he’s head-over-heels in love.

Shame that Georgia doesn’t share that feeling, and has COMPLETELY forgotten about the entire occasion. And so, the Prospector waits for her to arrive, while she’s at a party at the dance hall. He imagines that the dance hall girls, Georgia included, have arrived and are having dinner with him. In the process of this imaginary dinner, he puts two forks in rolls of bread...and creates one of the most iconic scenes of the Silent Era of film.

But alas, this is all in a dream. The Prospector wakes up, and midnight’s passed. At the dance hall, the revelers celebrate, with Georgia standing on the bar and firing guns into the air in the process. The Prospector is saddened, now wondering where Georgia’s been, and realizing that he’s been stood up. Auld Lang Syne plays in the score, and the partiers sing it together at the dance hall.

And it’s FINALLY AT THIS POINT that Georgia remembers that she and the girls were supposed to meet the Prospector. They head there, with Jack in tow. But the Tramp (told you I’d slip eventually) has headed to the party at the dance hall, looking for the girls that stood him up, and he sadly gazes through the window.

Meanwhile, at the Prospector’s cabin, Georgia discovers the loving meal and decorations put out, and realizes that the Prospector actually took this far more seriously than she’d thought. She realizes his feelings, and what she’s done, and feels sorrow about it. Jack tries to get her to forget it and kiss him, but she angrily rebukes him for it, slapping him in the face. They leave the cabin, with Georgia reflecting on the scene.

The next day, Big Jim McKay is trying to recall the location of his gold reserve. He goes to town, and resolves that he must find the cabin in the wilderness, and he should be able to find his way back from there. The Prospector walks right past him, still mourning his spurned love from the previous night. But said spurned love is writing him a letter, noting that she is sorry for what she did last night, and asks someone to give it...to Jack. Oh. What the fuck, Georgia? But Jack, being the dick that he is, sees the Prospector in the dance hall, and gives him the note instead, which leads him to try and find Georgia.

In the process, though, he runs into Big Jim, who needs the Prospector to lead him back to the cabin. He promises to make him a millionaire if he does, and the Prospector agrees, going up to Georgia on the balcony and kissing her, promising to make good and come back rich! The two head back to the cabin, where they stay for the night.

But that night, a vicious blizzard once again rears its ugly head as the two sleep, and literally blows the cabin to...well, to a rather precarious spot.

So, in blissful ignorance, the Prospector gets up first, and walks around the cabin, causing it to rock back and forth as the weight shifts. Big Jim also wakes up, and together, the two realize that the house is balanced on the cliff’s edge, and shifts position as the weight shifts within. That leads to a humorous sequence with a tilting set, and the Prospector looks outside a door on the side of the cliff, dangling off of it for a moment before coming back in.

Now realizing the situation, the two manage to secure a guy rope that ties the house to rocks on the cliff. However, the cabin is now tilted, making their escape even more difficult.

However, Big Jim manages to get out with some teamwork, overlaid by The Flight of the Bumblebee in the score, and he also helps the Prospector escape, just before the whole house falls off the cliff.

But lucky day! The cabin blew RIGHT to the spot where Big Jim found the gold, and the two are now multi-millionaires! The film cuts to one year later, with the two very wealthy men, and the Prospector’s been able to afford everything he’s ever wanted...except for Georgia, whom he never found. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t looking to be with him. Geez.

The Prospector gets in his old Tramp getup for a photograph taken by the Press, while on the ship heading back to the lower 48. But then...who should also be on that ship but Georgia. The two unite once again, but Georgia’s overheard that there was a stowaway on board the ship, and assumes that it’s the Prospector. She tries to defend him, but quickly learns that he’s become a multi-millionaire. With that, the two are reunited, and the photographer brings both of them up for a picture. He poses them in a way that brings them quite close...and the two kiss.

The end! That’s The Gold Rush, and I thought it was a surprisingly heartfelt film! Really, it was funny in some spots, but was a bit more sweet to me than funny. And I really liked it, in truth. I get why it’s considered one of his best! I’ll elaborate on my thoughts more thoroughly in the review, though. See you there!

#the gold rush #the gold rush 1925 #charlie chaplin #the tramp #the lone prospector #mack swain #tom murray #malcolm waite #georgia hale #henry bergman #comedy april #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365days365movies #365 movies a year

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deathbyseventeen · 5 years ago

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The Switch || Christmas 2019 AU

TITLE: The Switch || Bodyswitch AU || Christmas 2019

MC: Joshua Hong, F-Reader

GENRE: Angst, Pinning, Romance

WORDS: 11.5k

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Author’s Notes: My biggest post of the year? Nope that goes to the Steampunk!Hoshi x Technological!Reader fic I believe. Anyways, this post is 2 years in the making so I hope it gets some love!

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DECEMBER 24TH

In what could only be described as a small ballroom, though in reality it was just a more-than-large bedroom, a twenty-one-year-old, amber haired boy, stared attentively at the oval-shaped standing mirror that held his smirking reflection.

Without taking his eyes off it, his right hand reached over to the glossy mahogany counter next to him. His fingers trailed carefully over the items on it. A silver ring in need of polishing, a simple gold chain necklace, a single silver-plated cross piercing.

He could tell what they were without having to look at them, with just the tips of his fingers.

It wasn’t long before he came across the gold-encrusted Rolex he was looking for. Without taking his eyes off his reflection, he managed to put it on. It was then that he stopped staring at himself, if only the reflection of his face, and admired the reflection of the gold watch on his wrist.

“Looking good,” he whispered to himself.

A knock came from the door, “Joshua?”

“Come in,” he answered.

It was his friends, though he really only saw them as acquaintances. Y/N L/N, only two years younger than him, dressed in an expensive gala outfit, came through the door. Your simple black flats made a padding sound against the polished, hardwood, dark mahogany floor. Yoon Jeonghan, in his own expensive dark gray blazer, cotton slacks, and black oxfords, walked in behind you.

“Joshua, oh,” you stopped for a second taking him in, “you’re already ready?”

“Of course,” he answered as he pulled on and popped his blazer.

“Great.” You replied happily, bouncing on your flats. “My parents sent our driver to take us to the Christmas charity gala. It starts in two hours but we’re suppos—”

“Let me stop you there,” Joshua interrupted you, “I didn’t even know there was some gala our parents wanted us to go to.”

“But—”

“I’m actually going to Nayoung’s yacht party. Started when the sun went down. I’m late.”

Joshua turned away from his reflection, for the first time since he had begun dressing, to look at you and Jeonghan. “I was wondering why you guys were here.”

Truth be told he had known both of you since you were babies, but still, he managed to forget about you both all the time.

Jeonghan let out a huff, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “We’ve had to attend this gala since we were thirteen. And you’re ditching it to go to Nayoung’s tantrum party? You get she’s only throwing that to get on her parents' nerves.”

“Yeah,” Joshua smirked, “but there’ll be tons of hot girls there.”

He grabbed a bottle of cologne and spritzed it on himself. “Why aren’t you guys ditching? Oh…,” he trailed off suddenly looking at the both of you pityingly, “were you guys not invited?”

While you looked at Joshua with hurt written all over your face, Jeonghan looked at him challengingly, an eyebrow raising.

He laughed as if Jeonghan were only joking around, “Like I said, I’m late. So, lock the front door when you let yourselves out, yeah?” He brushed past you both, not bothering to close the door and a few seconds later the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed throughout his house.

You turned to Jeonghan. But, before you could speak, he lifted a finger to ask you to wait. A second later, the sound of an engine could be heard roaring to life and racing down the streets. _______________________________________________________________________

You and Jeonghan sat on velvet, red cushion chairs, in front of a circular table that had twelve dinner plates and an assortment of glasses and cutlery lining it, along with a poinsettia bouquet as a centerpiece. There were place cards on each plate. You stared sadly at the one on your left.

The place card had Joshua’s name on it.

“Y/N,” Jeonghan whined. He nuzzled his face onto your right shoulder and he wrapped his arms around your waist. “He’s not worth it. He’s only gotten worse since we were kids.”

“I still like him though,” you answered sadly, reaching to grab the place card and hide it into the bouquet of Christmas flowers.

“No one should like bratty rich kids, especially you, Miss Donates-Money-Every-Week.” He pushed himself off of you and righted himself in his own chair. “He’s not worth it.” He mumbled playing with a ring on his left hand’s index finger.

You drooped like a flower without water. “I know.”

“Hey, guys!” A cheery voice came up behind you guys, making you jump.

“Xiyeon, Roa, hi,” you greeted with a smile.

“You’re early, that’s great!” Xiyeon bounced.

“I’m sorry for her,” Roa smiled, “she’s a bit excited since this is her training year before she joins me on the committee.” She gestured at their matching outfits: red, high-waisted, wide-leg dress pants and simple white button shirts. The only difference in their outfits being their hairstyles. Roa had straight black hair with bangs. Xiyeon had wavy long black hair.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t part of the committee this year. You’re always a member of the committee.” You could feel the unspoken question lingering in the air.

“Yes, well, I decided that I wanted to sit with my friend in the back this year and participate in the festivities.”

“Wonderful,” She smiled. “We should get going, double-check everything is ready before the gala starts. Xiyeon.”

“Wait,” She said as Roa began to walk away, “This seat doesn’t have a place card.”

“No one must have been assigned to that seat.” Jeonghan laughed, running a hand through his dyed, white hair.

“No, there was. I remember. I memorized the seating chart. It was….” Xiyeon said, concentrating on the plate, willing the name to return.

“Joshua’s ditching again, correct?” Roa, provided before Xiyeon could remember, lips in a thin smile. She looked at you expectantly for an answer.

“No,” You replied.

“Place card in the bouquet?”

“...Yes,” You nodded finally, giving in.

Roa extended an arm towards you, “The only reason I continue to order a place card for him is to keep appearances.”

You nodded wordlessly and took the place card you had hidden in the bouquet to hand to her.

She looked at it for a second before ripping it in half. “You look beautiful in that knee-length dress, Y/N. Silk for the bodice and tulle for the bottom, right?” She hummed suddenly, “Are those diamonds on the waistband? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear something so expensive before.”

She nodded at you both, “Come along, Xiyeon.”

When they were gone you looked at Jeonghan with a forlorn on your face.

“Oh look, they decorated the Christmas tree so nicely this year,” he nodded to the front of the ballroom, where at the top of a grand staircase with red velvet carpet sat a large Christmas tree.

It was surrounded by tables where the objects that were going to be put for auction at the end of the dinner had been placed. On one of them, a shiny, silver men’s watch caught your eye.

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Joshua got to Nayoung’s yacht party when it was already in full swing. Christmas lights decorated its side and strobe lights cast lines of colorful light into the sky. Music could be heard pounding against the metal of the boat and reverberating into the ocean. Its surface rippled as the people inside the yacht raved.

On the dock, the captain’s first mate waited for the last guest. He stood beside the white, metal boarding steps that led onboard, stone-faced and alone. He knew perfectly well who they were forcing him to wait for.

After haphazardly parking his car, Joshua smirkingly strode up to the boarding steps, ignoring the first mate.

“Name?” The first mate asked as he stepped in front of Joshua and blocked his path. He looked down at the clipboard in his hands, studying it like Joshua wasn’t actually late.

“Joshua Hong,” Joshua answered brusquely. He paused for a second, glaring at the first mate, dusting off his form-fitting, black blazer passive-aggressively even though he wasn’t watching. Then, without waiting for the first mate to allow him onto the yacht, he stepped onto the boarding steps and made his way up.

Clenching his teeth, the first mate followed behind him and motioned at the crew at the top to alert the Captain that they would soon be ready to leave dock.

Joshua smirked when he stepped on deck. Nayoung leaned against a white wall in a tight, small black dress. Her long black hair splayed over her shoulders.

“Fashionably late?” She asked teasingly, twirling a piece of her hair.

“Reasonably late,” He corrected with a sly smile, throwing her a wink.

“You’re the last one. Now we can leave the dock.”

“Let's get the party started,” Joshua cheered. Without a second to waste, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the heart of the party.

He skipped the dance floor and threw some winks and lip bites at a group of girls that were grinding against their partners until he reached the bar.

“Two whiskeys,” He ordered, yelling over the music, “and make it quick.”

Nayoung seated herself on the stool to his left and tapped her fingers against the marble tabletop. When the two glasses of whiskey were placed in front of them, Joshua turned to the bartender and snapped at him.

“Bring the bottle. Did you think this would be enough?”

The bartender went scurrying off. In the few seconds it took for them to come back with the bottle, Joshua and Nayoung had already finished their drinks.

Joshua, liking the burn going down his throat, turned to Nayoung, and smirking said, “Let’s get shit faced.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The master clock on board the ship ticked 11:50pm when Joshua Hong decided that he was done partying for the day. It was the earliest he had ever decided to leave a party. But, with the concoction that was brewing in the pit of his stomach-- a combination of whiskey and tequila, he felt like he needed to go to sleep as soon as possible.

It was something he had never felt before even when he drank more than he thought he did that night.

He felt weird.

He felt odd.

So, he found himself feeling his way down into the cabins, his face against the cool, white, metal walls. The sound of the engines running traveled up the walls and through his body. He took small steps, his feet feeling out the grooves of the carpet as to not fall.

Then, when he reached the stairs that led below deck, he sat down and took his descent one step at a time. After all, everything was blurry and he felt like something was pulling his body forward rather than he moving it forward.

_______________________________________________________________________

Seungcheol Choi was freezing his ass off, to say the least. While the sea mist sprayed his face, the sea breeze slapped it. Even in his large black coat, thick work pants, and heavy work boots, he could still feel the cold air seeping through and clinging to his body.

He felt like he could say that in his twenty-two years of life he had never felt anything as cold as the sea at night, during winter.

“I fu-fucking hate this,” Jihoon Lee stuttered, the cold of the sea, hitting his face. His teeth chattered, and with crossed arms he folded into himself, trying to keep warm. The clothes he wore, almost an exact copy of Seungcheol’s, failed to keep him warm as well. The black beanie on his head was a small solace.

He was twenty-one and in as much danger of getting arrested as Seungcheol was.

“W-We should have stolen a better boat,” he said, shivering. “Or m-maybe none at all,” he grumbled.

Seungcheol cupped his hands together and blew the warmest air he could into them. “We have no choice. We do this and we have the money we need to give our family a real Christmas dinner.”

He looked at Jihoon, “A Christmas dinner, Ji. Just one. One. For our brothers.”

Jihoon nodded, running his hands down his red face. There was nothing more for Jihoon to say. He understood what Seungcheol was trying to do and although he thought there were thousands of ways that it could wrong...

“Now,” Seungcheol told him.

Jihoon nodded. He pulled the string that started their small boat’s engine and steered it towards the yacht they had been eyeing all night long. He stopped under a row of portholes on the side of that looked deserted. The side that was hidden from those on land but not those farther out in the sea.

“We can use these as steps to get into the boat,” Seungcheol nodded at Jihoon’s observation.

“You stay here. I’ll go alone.”

Jihoon balked. “What?”

“I’m going alone.”

“That’s too dangerous. I’ll go with you.”

Seungcheol smiled, “You’re staying here.” Then, ignoring Jihoon’s cries of protest, he pushed himself onto the first porthole.

Groaning, Jihoon maneuvered himself underneath Seungcheol and began pushing him upwards, helping him reach the next porthole.

Then, Seungcheol stumbled over the railing and into the boat. When he gathered his bearings, he looked over the railing, gave Jihoon a thumbs up and mouthed for him to stay.

After a moment, he gave his back to Jihoon and let out a sigh of relief.

If anything went wrong and he went down, at least he would go down alone.

Taking steps forwards was troubling for him. The sea rocked the yacht and it made him feel as if at any moment he would be thrown over the railing and into the ocean.

He supported himself against the wall and took big steps forward, hoping that it would mean things would go by faster. To his relief, he didn’t have to walk far before he found a door labeled “Hallway to Cabin Stairway.”

He grinned like a madman as he pulled the door open and fell forward. The hallway looked impossibly long. Like before, he took a deep breath and then giant steps forward, quickly now, wanting to reach the stairwell.

When he reached it and began his descent, he practically skipped over most of the steps. If anyone had been there to watch him they would say he fell down the stairs. But Seungcheol, he flew down the stairs because of his strong will to get the job down.

He rested at the bottom for a couple seconds, hand against the wall, watching as the hallways rocked from side to side.

Until they didn’t.

A shuddering breath left him as he pushed himself off the wall and walked down the rest of the hall and through the door and into the cabins hall. He tried the first door on his left-- locked. Then the one on the right-- locked.

He let out a frustrated huff but kept walking forward.

The next door, the one on his right was already slightly ajar.

He grinned.

He pushed the door open and almost danced in giddiness. An arrange of coats and purses were lying across the large cabin. It was a room larger than any he had ever seen, bigger than any room he had ever been in. It almost made him angry. But, the possibility of the loot in front of him drove the anger away, if only for a moment.

He dove forward, grabbed the first bag he saw and dug through it. One hundred and fifty dollars.

“Rich people,” he laughed.

It took him five minutes in all his giddy happiness to dig through all the coats and bags. It was 11:58 when he finished; and, with his own bag clutched in his hands, he scurried out of the room and headed to the one directly across from it.

The door was closed but unlocked. It was pitch black when he opened the door. His fingers felt around the wall for a switch. Then froze when the lights came on.

Another man his age, he guessed, whined at the sudden influx of light. He sat up and glared at Seungcheol, taking him for a crew member. “Turn off the fucking lights.”

Seungcheol nodded and did as told. He took some steps backward, backed into the hallway, and closed the door before another word could be said. He had just opened the next door when the man from before came tumbling out, pointing a finger at him.

“Fucking thief!” Crap.

The guy looked horrible as if he were about to hurl. Yet despite his obvious illness, the guy stumbled forward and shoved Seungcheol into the door frame.

Groaning because the back of his head hit the frame, Seungcheol dropped to his knees and crawled down the hallway. He narrowly avoided the swift quick that the guy aimed at him.

Then the rocking came back.

Seungcheol stood up and stumbled forward, throwing a punch. It hit the guy’s nose and sent him stumbling backward. The man fell to the floor.

It took almost no time for him to stand up and throw a punch himself. He missed but it grazed Seungcheol’s mouth.

Seungcheol laughed. He could feel a trickle of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.

Like bulls, they charged at each other. Each of them aiming at the faces of the other.

Stalemate.

In an act of desperation, Seungcheol lunged at the man and kicked him in the gut. The man stumbled backward and hit the back of his head against a door frame again.

Then, as Seungcheol neared the man and readied to kick him once more, a rumbling sound filled the halls and the boat rocked harder than it ever had before.

They didn’t notice.

Water started to seep through the doors of the upper hallway. It slithered down the velvety, red carpet and down the stairwell. A puddle began forming on the carpet of the hallway until even that became a stream. Even Seungcheol’s bag of loot started to drift from where he had dropped it when the man first hit him. It wasn't until they both pushed each other and fell face-first onto the floor that they realized water was beginning to accumulate.

To their dismay, it was too late. Not a minute after they both dizzily stood up did a canon of water shoot down from the stairwell.

A second later, they were out cold and drowning.

That was 12:00:00, December 25th.

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 25TH

You paced back and forth in the dimly lit hallway of the emergency waiting room of a hospital.

It was four in the morning and the lights were yet to be turned on. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t anybody in the hospital. Even besides the patients, doctors, and nurses, there was a group of raggedy dressed young men sitting on some of the area’s chairs.

Nayoung Lim was sitting a couple of seats away from where Jeonghan had taken a seat, a towel wrapped around her soaked body.

The gala had been nearing its end when you had gotten a call on your cell. 12:30 am and Joshua’s parents were frantically screaming for you to go to the hospital over the phone.

Joshua had been in a sinking yacht. He had been rescued, unconscious, and with water in his lungs, from the hallway of the sleeping quarters the boat.

What had he been doing there? His blood was heavily intoxicated! He was supposed to be at the gala with you and Jeonghan!

The tears came almost instantly and instead of words, hiccuped gasps escaped you. From that, they gathered almost instantly that you weren’t responsible for whatever their son was going through.

Jeonghan had stolen the phone from your hands and brought it up to his own ears. He asked what was wrong after noticing it was Joshua’s mother on the phone.

It was Jeonghan that dragged you to your family’s limo.

It was Jeonghan that told the driver where to go.

It was Jeonghan that kept you from screaming your lungs off at Nayoung.

“Look we want to apologize,” a tall boy with round glasses stood up from his seat, “your friend probably got stuck there because of our brother—”

“Your thief of a fucking brother. He was stealing my friend’s property! Joshua is here because of him.”

“Oh, shut up! It's your fault Joshua was even there in the first place!” You yelled, turning around to lunge at her.

Jeonghan sprang to his feet and blocked your path, holding you back by pinning your arms to your sides.

“My fault?” She scoffed, “Joshua’s a big boy, he can make his own choices; and want a big boy he is.” She smirked flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Rage seethed through you. Everything was tinted red in your vision but, Jeonghan didn’t let you act on it.

Nayoung smirked at your restrained state. Then, remembering where she was and who was there. She turned to the group of six boys and glowered at them, “Consider yourself fucking sued.”

Before you could yell at her again, Jeonghan spoke, “For what?” He scoffed, “For coming to see their brother at the hospital? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Their brother--”

“Their brother did nothing. You’re the sole person responsible for everyone on that boat,” he glared at her.

“Look at them, they’re poor! He was stealing.”

“Do you have any proof of that?” You glanced at the group of boys against the opposite wall, noting for the first time what Nayoung was referring to. Their clothes were falling apart at the seams.

Nayoung looked at him indignantly. But before she could speak, a doctor came out from the emergency room in scrubs. She looked at the room curiously then looked down at the clipboard in her hands.

“For Joshua Hong?”

“That’s me!” Nayoung practically screamed.

“That’s not true!” You growled. “We’re--” you motioned between Jeonghan and you, “the one’s here for him.”

“Alright.” The doctor interjected. “Either of you family?”

“No.” You frowned, “They aren’t here. But, his mother sent us in her place.”

“Paperwork?”

“Filed.” You said, handing her a copy of the paperwork you had to fill out when you had gotten there. You could feel Nayoung glaring behind you.

“Alright,” she said, reading over the names on the forms, “follow me.”

You smirked at Nayoung as you walked past her. Jeonghan pulled you along, forcing you to keep walking before you could do anything; and, before the doors slid closed behind you, you took a glance at the group of boys. All except one were staring at the ceiling to avoid looking in Nayoung’s direction.

They had been left in the lion's den and they knew it.

But, the short one with a chopped up black sweater was staring in your direction. His eyes were rimmed with red. You looked at each other for a few seconds before he looked away.

Then the door closed.

The doctor and Jeonghan were waiting for an elevator to come down when you caught up to them not so far away. It took you to the 20th floor where Joshua had been given his own private room.

You ran when she gave you the room number, leaving Jeonghan behind with her.

The hallway was slippery but it did nothing to stop you as you ran. The dim lighting was barely enough to look at the plaques on the walls and read their numbers. When you finally found it, you rushed inside and forgot to even close the door before breaking into tears again.

_______________________________________________________________________

When Seungcheol woke up there were bright lights in his face and an incessant beeping in his ears. His face felt swollen and awkward but his back felt like he had been sleeping on clouds. He really didn’t want to open his eyes.

When he yawned and tried to stretch, he realized there was something holding him down. His eyes flew open. He turned his head to look down at his left hand without sitting up.

There was a girl holding his hand. A girl he had never seen before, but couldn’t help noticing was really pretty. Who was he to reject a pretty gir--

‘Wait,’ he thought to himself. He glanced down at his hand again and froze. Since when did he have such long fingers… His hand did not look like this hand he realized then screamed.

The girl beside him woke up and instantly attempted to calm him. She rubbed circles onto his hand with the pad of her thumb. With her other hand, she reached over to press the blue button that called a nurse.

“Joshua! Joshua, calm down! Please calm down. Everything's going to be okay! Joshua! Joshua!” She cried.

“Who’s Joshua?!” He screamed. “I’m not Joshua! I’m not Joshua!” As he repeated, screaming and thrashing in his bed as a nurse injected sedatives into his IV bag.

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 26TH

Joshua woke up groaning, twisting and turning on a bed that looked like it belonged in the trash. The springs were broken and the stuffing was spilling out from the sides. It had been slept on one too many times. Signs of its previous owners were permanently imprinted onto it.

Like a prince with a pea under his mattress, he complained until someone came into the suffocatingly dry, concrete room.

“Coups,” he heard, “What’s wrong?”

“What the hell is a Coups and what is it doing in my room,” he groaned.

“What?” He heard and this time opened his eyes. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Coups?” They asked.

“What?” He asked this time. Suddenly, his surroundings started to come into focus and he couldn’t help but sit up in a flash. He was surrounded by four concrete walls devoid of any color. Bits of concrete were beginning to chip and when he looked at the ceiling, it looked like it was about to crumble.

“Where the hell am I?” He asked slowly. Disbelief was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

He turned to look at the person who had been talking to him and balked. He didn’t know the person standing in front of him.

The boy had a long face, black hair, and round glasses. He wore clothes that didn’t fit him and were falling off of his shoulders, and he had a book in his hands.

“Who the hell are you?”

The boy didn’t have time to answer, not that he really could. He was too confused at his brother’s frantic state.

Joshua looked around again and stopped when he spotted a mirror. A boy he didn’t know was staring back at him. Long face, thick lips, big nose, black hair….

He lifted a hand to wave at the boy and when he mimicked him simultaneously, he screamed and scrambled off the bed. He ran his hands over his face and cried.

Freaked out, the boy rushed out the door and locked it. Despite being in a different room and getting farther from the first, he could still be heard screaming for someone else. “Woozi! Woozi! Something’s wrong with Coups!” The boy screamed.

Joshua took large gulps of air, trying to get his breathing under control. “This has to be a nightmare.” He whispered to himself. “I’ll just… I’ll just pinch myself. Yeah.” He did as he said, and yelped when his fingernails dug into his skin.

He started to hyperventilate.

The door opened and in walked in the boy from before, followed by a shorter, stern-looking boy.

“Who the fuck is responsible for this?!” Joshua barked at them.

The short one raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “Did what?”

“This isn’t funny, you know. I’ll freaking sue you. I’ll take the little you’ve got.”

“Sue me?” He asked. “Seungcheol what is going on?”

“Who the hell is Seungcheol?!” He screamed again, stumbling as he stood up.

The boy nodded a single time as if he had figured everything out. He turned to the boy with the round glasses, “I think has a concussion, a bit of amnesia. He should be fine after a bit of rest. It’s what the doctor said he needed, anyways.”

“Are you talking about me?” He asked frantically. “Are you talking about me?”

“Coups,” the boy began as he directed his attention at him again, “you don’t remember anything right now. That’s fine. You’ll be fine after you rest. You aren’t allowed to go to work, by the way, I already talked to your boss. It’s fine for today.”

“Work?” Joshua said, repulsed.

“Come on,” Woozi said to the other boy, “Help me get him to bed.”

Joshua looked at the bed, “There’s no way in hell I’m getting into that tick-infested death trap.” He had noticed the springs that were popping out from the fabric.

“Seungcheol, I’ve told you one too many times the bed doesn’t have any ticks!” The glasses boy whined.

“It’s obvious you’re blind if you think that thing. It’s completely tick-infested.”

The boy reeled backward, offended. Woozi shook his head exasperated.

“Go to bed,” Woozi said to him slowly. Then, he turned to the other boy, “Common, Wonwoo.”

They hurried out the door without looking back. Joshua heard ‘click’ of the lock before he could even try to go after them. He felt like a prisoner, stuck in a small room with no windows and a bed that he refused to sleep in.

He kicked at the floor with the little energy he had and slumped to the ground.

He was defeated.

He didn’t understand what was going on, where he was, or how he had even gotten there.

_______________________________________________________________________

Seungcheol woke up with sedatives still coursing through his veins. His eyes and body felt heavy, but it didn’t stop him from sitting up and opening his eyes.

He had no recollection of what had happened the day before at the hospital, but in a second it all came rushing back to him as the blanket that had been wrapped around his shoulders fell off and the coldness of the room hit him. That and his grandiose surroundings.

He was sure he had never seen a TV as big as the one set up across from him, taking up the entire height of a wall, which he imagined was how tall castle walls were, and half of its length. In the screen’s reflection, he saw a skinny boy in a large bed, in what he imagined was silk… everything. He would have thought it was some black and white show on tv were it not for that fact that the boy was staring directly at him, quietly, in colors that really made him think of the negatives he saw when he went into the old photo print shop.

He couldn’t think of anything to say. So, he screamed.

In an instant, men and women in maid outfits rushed inside and lined up in a neat row in front of the television. They bowed their heads silently and stared at their shoes. When the silence dragged on, Seungcheol realized they were waiting for orders.

He swallowed.

Footsteps echoed into the room as they rushed closer.

He glanced at the door just as two more people rushed inside. It was the pretty girl from before, he realized, the one that had been holding his hand at the hospital.

“What happened?” He asked. He wanted to know. He needed to know. But, he didn’t want to be knocked out again the way he had been at the hospital.

The hospital…

“What day is it?!” He shuddered, that wasn’t his voice.

That was not his voice.

“Joshua. Joshua, please calm down.”

You approached Joshua slowly. There was an odd look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

But since the hospital had just released him, you were trying very hard to make sure he didn’t exert himself or stress himself. Not only you had thought of that, but his parents too. Who better to check up on him than a childhood “friend.”

“Do you remember anything?”

He shook his head. He didn’t dare mention that he wasn’t Joshua.

After hurrying to sit by his side, you looked at his hands hesitatingly. Your hands twitched wanting to reach out and hold them, but instead, you folded them in your lap and stared at him sadly.

“You were in an accident. You’ve been out for a few days and you sort of freaked out in the hospital.”

“Accident?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, then mumbled, “at Nayoung’s stupid yacht party.”

“Oh.” It was a single word, but behind it, he was screaming into oblivion. He wasn’t this so-called ‘Joshua’ and he would have never been on a yacht.

“Do you have a mirror?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed. It was like he had amnesia. But you didn’t want Joshua to have another freak-out and you knew his room’s layout by memory, so you motioned to your right without taking your eyes off of him.

Seungcheol shifted to look where you were pointing and froze when he saw his reflection. His eyes couldn’t help but twitch. Then he shuddered at the thought he had to pretend to be the skinny boy he saw in the mirror.

“Is there anything you need?” You asked him.

“Y/N.”

Oh, he thought, so that’s your name. Then, he looked at the person next to you who had spoken. Another skinny boy, Seungcheol thought to himself, long face, thin nose, white hair, and hard eyes that seemed to be directed at him. “Let him get what he wants himself. You’re not responsible for him.”

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, “if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.”

“We should both go,” he grumbled, “Joshua can take care of himself.”

Seungcheol felt a shudder run down his spine. He could feel the venom in Jeonghan’s voice, the resentment he felt for Josuha. It was coming off of him in waves as he got closer to you protectively.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol nodded, “You should go. I’ll be fine. Besides, I need to go somewhere.”

“You heard him,” Jeonghan smirked.

“What, no! You can’t!”

“Why not?” Seungcheol smiled tensely.

“The doctor said you need to rest. Besides--” you bit your lips, “You’ve been out cold for an entire day. You need to rest to gain your strength back before going anywhere.”

“I need to be somewhere though,” he grumbled.

“Doesn’t matter, you need rest and rest is what you’re going to do.” You stood up and crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.

Seungcheol couldn’t help but look you over. From head to toe, his eyes traveled down you, furrowing at the clothes you were wearing. They looked...normal, he thought to himself. They were clothes he would have thought only people like him would wear. Not clothes rich people would wear. A tee-shirt, a thin sweater, jeans, and worn-out sneakers.

“What?” You asked, a blush creeping up your neck. It was the most attention you had ever gotten from Joshua, but he didn’t know that.

“Why are you wearing that?”

“Wearing what?” You asked, looking down at the clothes you were wearing.

“Wearing that!” He pointed at you.

“Back off, Joshua.” Jeonghan stepped up from behind you, “If Y/N wants to wear a tee shirt and jeans that’s up to her. Some of us have better ways to spend our money than buying a million-dollar pajama set.” He glared at him.

Seungcheol looked at the clothes he was wearing with wide eyes. “Wait that’s not--”

“Lock the door,” Jeonghan told the service, “those are his mother's orders. Only come to bring him lunch and dinner.”

“Common,” Jeonghan waved at the workers to leave the room after them, pulling you out without a word.

In a few seconds, far to few for Seungcheol to remember to stand up and go after them, the door was closed and locked.

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 27TH

There was a sway in your step as you walked up Joshua’s driveway with large, empty, reusable bags in your arms. Jeonghan lagged behind you, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He wasn’t much of an early bird and it was 5 am-- too early in Jeonghan’s opinion.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? They probably don’t even remember us or want us there,” he whined as he hid his face behind his hands.

“I think we should. Their brother was only trying to find a way to give them a Christmas dinner.” Truth be told, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the short boy who had been staring at you in the hospital.

“Yeah, but, taking food from Joshua’s house? Don’t get me wrong, if this is your way of getting revenge, I’m all for it.”

You laughed at Jeonghan’s words. “I just thought we could ask him if he wanted to donate some food to give.”

“I don’t think Joshua’s the type of guy to help the guy that punched him. Or even those in need.”

“You never know,” You smiled at him.

“Oh no,” Jeonghan shook his head, “we already know.”

You were nearing the steps that lead to the front door, laughing at Jeonghan’s attempt to pull you back down the driveway and away from Joshua’s house, when your steps faltered.

Jeonghan bumped into you, “Why’d you stop walking? Oh.”

You swallowed the rage you felt at the sight of Nayoung standing outside of Joshua’s front door. A maid blocked her path inside and insisted that she wasn’t allowed inside. “I am Lim Nayoung! What do you mean I’m not allowed inside! I’m Joshua’s closest friend!” She huffed and stomped her foot.

You rushed to the door when you saw her lift her foot and tilt it so she could stomp the maid’s foot.

“Didn’t you hear her? You’re not allowed inside, go away.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” you growled.

“And Joshua’s mother.” Jeonghan piped up, walking up behind you and waving the maid away. He took her place blocking the door, arms crossed. “Go away before I call the police.”

Nayoung looked at him indignantly, her hand rising to slap him. You, at the sight of this, raised your own hand to retaliate before she could hit Jeonghan.

“What is going on here?”

You all froze. Joshua walked up behind Jeonghan, opening the other door to look at you all confusedly.

“Joshua!” Nayoung chirped, batting her eyelashes and twirling a piece of hair in her fingers. “I thought we could throw a party today but they won't let me in.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach watching the way she was acting around him and her proposal. There was no way Joshua would pass an opportunity to have a party.

“I don’t know you,” he responded, looking at her for a moment then taking a peek in your direction.

“Joshua--” she began, her voice becoming sickly sweet before Joshua cut her off.

“Look I think you should go, I’m busy here,” he said before turning around and closing the door.

You smiled at Nayoung, biting back a giggle that was threatening to escape when her face grew red. You waved at her, taunting her, to say goodbye as you pushed Jeonghan inside and slammed the door behind you.

“Yes!” You cheered, accidentally dropping your bags.

“Don’t you think Joshua’s acting a bit weird?” Jeonghan asked as you kneeled to pick up your bags.

“Weird? I just think he’s finally coming to his senses.” You grinned and nodded for him to follow you into the kitchen.

Joshua was inside, grabbing different foods from his cabinets and fridge. He placed them in bags gently, stopping every now and then to debate about what he was choosing.

You smiled faded when you saw him, “What are you doing?”

He cleared his throat, “Nothing. Just throwing out some food.”

“Throwing out?” You asked, eyeing the fabric bags he had on the kitchen island.

“Well more like taking them somewhere.” He answered, not looking up. “You didn’t have to come. In fact,” he smiled, “you should probably go now.”

“A-Actually,” you hesitated, “I was wondering if you wanted to donate some food? I was, umm, planning to go give it to that other boy who was rescued with you, and his family.”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan hissed.

Joshua’s movements between the bags and the cabinets faltered. He stopped suddenly and looked at you with a frown on his lips.

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do,” you whispered. “T-They missed their own Christmas Eve dinner because of the accident…” you trailed off.

Anger seemed to radiate off of Joshua.

An embarrassed blush crept up your neck.

Joshua eyed the blush creeping up your face at his staring. He placed the cans in his hands on the counter and approached you.

“Sweetheart,” He said, giving you a flirty smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Joshua,” Jeonghan warned him. You swallowed, face growing even redder.

“I’m sure they’re fine without the food. Why don’t you wait for me here, instead? I just have to go run an errand then I’ll be back.”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan warned but glared at Joshua.

You looked at Joshua standing not so far from you, biting his lips like he was trying to seduce you. But, you felt nothing and it surprised you. Even when Joshua smiled smugly, you could feel the wings of some butterflies in your stomach. When he flirted with other girls in front of you and Jeonghan, you always wished it was you. When you imagined it, you could feel your face growing hot.

But, right now? Nothing.

You sighed, looking down at your feet, “No. I want to take this to them.”

The smile fell from Joshua’s face. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. You can come if you want.” You offered, snatching the food he had been putting in the bags.

_______________________________________________________________________

In less than an hour, you found yourself sitting in front of a group of seven boys, all of them seemingly around your age, on a couch that was being held up by loose blocks of wood. They all stared at you stone-faced, except for one. Seungcheol, the boy who had been rescued along with Joshua, stared at both you and Jeonghan alternatively.

His face wasted no expense in showing you that he was mad.

Besides you, Jeonghan had his arms crossed and stared at the other boys a stone-faced as well. There was a tense silence and a smell in the air like rotting wood.

“What do you want?” The short one asked bluntly.

“Woozi!” One of the others hissed.

“No no no,” You shook your hands, “it’s okay. We, um, we brought you some food so you could have a Christmas dinner.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m sorry. Can I have a word with you?” Seungcheol growled, looking at you.

“And I to you, Woozi,” Josuha grumbled starting at the boy. You looked between them confused. You didn’t know they knew each other.

“Alright,” You nodded.

He pushed himself off the couch and sauntered into an empty room in a way that looked all too familiar to you.

“Can I help you?” You asked.

He glared at you, “Have you not realized that the Joshua sitting next to you isn’t me. Him. Me. I’m Joshua!” He stumbled, pointing to himself in the end.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, backing into the door.

“Y/N, I’m Joshua. I don’t know what’s going on or how this happened but that Joshua out there isn’t Joshua. I’m Joshua.”

“I think you might still have a concussion from the accident. Woozi!” You screamed into the hall.

Woozi came rushing into the room, glaring at both Joshua and Seungcheol while he looked between the both of them.

“I’m not him!” They both screamed, “I’m me!” They pointed at each other.

“I’ve known you since we were kids, Y/N. You’re two years younger than me and you’re a goody-two-shoes along with Jeonghan.” Seungcheol said.

“Woozi you gotta believe me, I’m Seungcheol.” Joshua pleaded, “You’re my brother, my brother.” He pleaded. “We’ve acted like parents to the rest of our brothers all of our lives. Please.”

You and Woozi alternated between Joshua and Seungcheol, studying that way that they each looked at the both of you. A glint in Seungcheol’s eyes broke you.

“Oh, I knew the flirting was too good to be true.”

“The flirting was real, Y/N,” the fake Joshua said, smirking at you, “You’re really pretty, sweetheart.” He placed a hand against your cheek only to have it slapped away by the real Joshua.

“Don’t fucking touch her. Who the hell do you think you are?” He growled.

“Oh, come on,” you cried.

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 28TH

You walked down the streets of the city with your head bowed and your sneakers squeaking against the concrete. Woozi, Seungcheol, and Joshua walked beside you all heading in the same direction.

It had taken the entire day before to come up with a plan that would help make Joshua and Seungcheol the people they were again. It hadn’t taken long to convince Jeonghan that Joshua wasn’t who you thought him to be. According to him, he had been acting “way too nice to be Joshua, I thought something was off.”

Then, to come up with a plan that didn’t make you all feel like complete idiots was a struggle all on its own.

“How much longer until we get there?” Seungch-- Joshua, the real Joshua, grumbled. “I’d like to get out of this body as soon as possible. I’ve been getting calls about having to go to work.” He shuddered.

“Work?!” The real Seungcheol gasped. “You should be at work! Not here!”

You sighed as they both started to argue with each other. You heard Woozi sigh behind you and you slowed down to walk beside him.

“I’m sorry about him.” He pointed at the real Seungcheol.

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him.” You pointed at the real Joshua. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you staring at me at the hospital?”

Woozi chuckled awkwardly, rubbing a hand against the nape of his neck, “It was nothing, really.”

“Please, tell me” you smiled.

“I was just...curious. You were wearing really fancy clothes but you weren’t acting like some rich kid like the other girl.” He laughed, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh,” you blushed.

“What are you two talking about?” The real Joshua grumbled, pausing to glare at you and Woozi.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Keep walking.”

“We’re already here,” he hissed through his teeth.

You looked up at the shop next to you and nodded, “Then, let’s go inside.”

It hadn’t been a second since you walked inside when a woman appeared from behind a curtain and stared at the four of you.

“Hello. This is a fortune teller’s shop, right? The one that also specializes in--”

“Witchcraft,” she said. “You two, the ones not in their own bodies, follow me,” she said, then disappeared behind the curtain.

Seungcheol and Joshua looked at the both of you wide-eyed, a hint of fear in their eyes.

“Go,” Woozi grumbled, then slumped down onto a waiting chair.

_______________________________________________________________________

“We need your help,” Seungcheol cried.

“We need to go back into our own bodies. I can’t stand being in this body anymore,” Joshua cried.

The woman stared at them with an unwavering gaze, unamused at their sentences trade-offs. Her gaze was so strong, they started to squirm under the look of her eyes.

She stood up from her seat and walked around the table, grabbing a crystal ball from a shelf. “You two got yourself into this. It’s very easy to see why you both ended up here.”

“Tell us how to go back,” Joshua whined. “I’ll pay you what you want.”

The woman sat down, dumping the crystal ball onto the table, and looked at Joshua judgingly.

“I cannot tell you how to fix your predicament,” she said, raising a hand before they could complain. “BUT, I can give you some direction by looking into your future.”

“Alright, thank you,” Seungcheol said.

The woman pursed her lips and stared into the ball, “I see white tee-shirts for the both of you. Tomorrow. They have a word stamped across its back. The letter ‘V’ and the girl you came here with.”

She stopped there and looked at them both, “Your answer lies with her. But, after tomorrow, you’ll be stuck like this forever.”

“What?!” Joshua screamed.

“Leave.” The woman deadpanned.

_______________________________________________________________________

“She said our answers lie with you. Tomorrow,” Joshua huffed as he stomped past you. “What do you have going on tomorrow?”

“I-I’m volunteering tomorrow,” You stuttered as Joshua whipped his head around and his intense gaze met yours. Even with Seungcheol’s eyes, you could feel his actual eyes, “A-at the food pantry.”

“Alright,” He said, nodding to himself before shooting you a grin, “I can do that. I can definitely do that.”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said, smiling at you before turning around to head home.

“Joshua…”

“Yeah?”

“The other way.” You smiled nervously, pointing in the direction of Seungcheol’s home.

“Riiiight,” He chuckled, turning around and heading in the opposite direction.

“What has been going on at your house?” You said to Woozi, Seungcheol staring at Joshua’s (his) receding back.

“Our youngest brother has been bullying him this entire time,” Woozi shrugged nonchalantly.

You gave him an odd look. A younger brother bullying his older brother constantly didn’t seem like something another older brother would be okay with.

“In a brotherly way!” He corrected when he saw the look you were giving him. “I think the prospect of having someone bug him like a little brother has been getting to him. He’s been doing lots of chores because of it.”

You blinked unbelievingly. Someone had actually managed to make Joshua do chores? Without blackmailing him? Someone who had literally no relation to him?

“Oh, Chan,” Seungcheol sighed, a fond smile on his face.

“Alright, well, I’ll meet you guys tomorrow to take you to the volunteer site,” you said, nodding at Woozi. “Common, Seungcheol.”

“Later, Ji,” He smiled and grabbed your hand. He pulled you in the direction of home, walking at the speed of light, and when you managed to turn around to wave at Woozi, he was already gone.

“Why in such a rush?” You laughed softly, trying to pull him into a walk.

“Well I thought we could go back to Joshua’s mansion and you could spend the rest of the day with me.”

“Spend the rest of the day with you?” You asked.

Seungcheol smiled nervously as he stopped and looked at you in the eye. You were smiling so nicely, so prettily at him that he felt he was acting like a lunatic.

You had been so nice to him before…

“I just… I’m afraid that someone will realize that I’m not Joshua the trust fund man.”

“Don’t be,” you sighed, “most people don’t even pay attention to him anymore.”

“Still,” Seungcheol shook his head and grabbed your hand, “I’d feel better if you… came home with me and helped me fit in?”

You pursed your lips as you tried not to giggle at Seungcheol’s red cheeks. He looked so bashful it was adorable.

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 29TH

Seungcheol held your hand as you walked down the street in the direction of his house. He swung them as you walked and winked at you every time your gaze landed on him.

“Stop,” you giggled. The day before, Seungcheol had ended up asking for your number after claiming that he wasn’t going to be able to pull off pretending to be Joshua after you were gone; and yet, after texting you once about what he would ask for lunch from the waitstaff, you ended up texting each other for hours after until you both knocked out.

Jeonghan looked at your intertwined hands quizzically, shooting you a look about it. You shook your head at him.

“We’re here!” Seungcheol cheered as you stopped in front of his house’s door.

You knocked on the metal door once before it was pulled open and Joshua stood in front of you. He smiled for a few seconds until something seemed to hit him. He stared at your intertwined hands.

“Why are you two holding hands?” His eyes narrowed.

“We’re just are,” you answered. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “just let me go get Woozi.”

“Cheol!” You heard someone yell inside, “Help me do the dishes!”

“I can’t,” you heard Joshua yell back as he walked disappeared inside, “I have to go somewhere right now! Woozi!”

You and Jeonghan held back your giggles outside. Joshua seemed nicer now that he had been forced to live without his money. You hadn’t been around him much to see this in action but Seungcheol had gotten a text from Woozi with a video of Joshua on it. He was still grumpy of course, but that seemed more like it was because he was still in Seungcheol’s body.

“Hey, guys.” Woozi greeted you three as he walked out of the house. Joshua closed the door behind him as he exited.

“Lead the way,” Joshua mumbled, again looking at your hands. You didn’t notice though, you were too busy laughing at Seungcheol’s attempt to flirt with you.

_______________________________________________________________________

Joshua stared at himself as Seungcheol. He couldn’t help but feel different and it wasn’t because he wasn’t in his own body. He could see himself as himself even as he was Seungcheol; and, he could see Seungcheol even as he looked like himself (Joshua).

He thought maybe it was the white tee-shirt he was wearing with the word ‘Volunteer’ inscribed on the back. But that didn’t feel completely right.

Maybe it was the fake siblings he had amassed because of this.

‘No,’ he shook his head to himself. It couldn’t have been Seungcheol’s brothers. Seungcheol’s brothers were great, not really caring that he was older than the rest of them and still forcing him to do things that older brothers would get annoyed about.

Joshua glanced down at “his” phone and turned it on. He swallowed remembering what the last thing he had been looking at was.

<< Y/N PERSONAL INSTAGRAM || NO UNKNOWNS! >>

The follow button taunted him. He knew he could request to follow you via Seungcheol but then that would mean HE wanted to follow you. He wanted to know what you were doing.

‘No!’ Joshua stopped himself. The reason he had been staring at your private Instagram account was that he wanted a glimpse into his old life. His rich life.

It definitely wasn’t because he wanted to see what you were up to.

He rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about that at the moment. So he shut off his phone and took a look around the place you had brought them to. The room like a factory floor, complete with large boxes stacked up as if trying they were trying to reach the sky.

A lot of people were there, ripping boxes and putting cans and other smaller boxes into reusable fabric bags.

It was six in the morning.

He couldn’t believe so many people would be willing to wake up so early that they would be able to work at six in the morning, just to pack bags of food for other people.

You were one of those people.

“How often do you do this?” Joshua asked, swallowing back the sudden burst of fear he felt running down his chest.

“Oh just every now and then.” You answered, blushing.

“She does this every weekend,” Jeonghan answered after you. “Sometimes she switches it up though. Instead of this food pantry, she does toy drives all through September until Christmas.”

Joshua’s mouth fell into a small gape of awe.

“No big deal,” you said, laughing the attention off. “I’ll go get you guys some tags.”

When you left, Jeonghan turned to Joshua, and even though Seungcheol and Woozi were there, he told him exactly what he was thinking. “I know you’re seeing Y/N in a new light but don’t look so shellshocked. She’s done this forever. If anything you should be embarrassed to not have known this about her considering we all grew up together.”

He stopped when he saw you on your way back. In an instant, a second thought popped into his head. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to say but in the end, he felt like this would protect you more than hurt you.

“One more thing,” he said, turning to Joshua quickly, “don’t act or flirt with Y/N. You’ll only end up getting her hopes up and hurting her. When you get back into your body, you’ll probably end up going back to your asshole ways.”

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked, handing each of them a name tag.

“Nothing,” Jeonghan smiled at you.

“Alright well—” you handed out assignments, pointing Seungcheol and Woozi in the direction of the distribution lines and warning them that the people there liked to talk.

“Jeonghan they want you in inventory and you,” you said looking at Joshua (really ever since you found out about their predicament you couldn’t stop seeing Joshua in front of you even though it was Seungcheol’s body that was in front of you) “they said you should be in my section, we’re unboxing and packing.”

“Alright,” he said. Jeonghan, already walking past you motioned that he would be watching him.

Joshua smiled awkwardly. What the hell had he meant when he said not to get your hopes up.

_______________________________________________________________________

Joshua was in the bathroom three hours later, taking a ten minute break and wondering how the hell you managed to do this so often. He had cuts all over his fingers and he wasn’t even sure how not to get them anymore.

He left the bathroom after twenty minutes, holding pieces of a paper towel between his fingers.

“Hey,” you greeted him as you stomped on an empty cardboard box, “what’s with the paper towels pieces?” You asked frowning and your eyebrows furrowing.

“Oh, nothing,” He chuckled nervously.

“Is that…” you trailed off, “is that blood?”

“Yeah...” Joshua answered sheepishly.

“Joshua! You should have said something!” You scolded him, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“No-no, it’s nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Joshua called after you as you walked away.

When you came back with a first aid kit, you pushed the towel pieces he was holding into a trash bag and got to work on his hand.

“You really should have just said something,” you mumbled, “we could have given you gloves to use.”

Joshua remained quiet as you cleaned and bandaged his hand. In the silence he had never felt before, he grew uncomfortable.

“This is really weird,” he mumbled. He thought you wouldn’t have been able to hear him, but you did.

“What is?”

“Wearing these clothes,” he answered. “Having to live and act like a poor person when I’m really not.”

“Act like a poor person?” You asked tightening the bandage. He winced. “What do you mean acting like a poor person.”

“I just—”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mumbled. In a hurry, you packed the supplies and left.

Joshua stared at your retreating form. Dread was filling the pit of his stomach. Though he knew it wasn’t because he was thinking about his predicament.

Seeing you walk away hurt because of something he said was somehow getting to him. Maybe that’s why he always walked away first, leaving you and Jeonghan behind.

So he didn’t have to see your faces.

“These are very different clothes,” he mumbled when you came back. He toyed with the jean jacket he had thrown over the shirt and gray flannel he was wearing. “They feel different from what I always wear.”

“They should,” you said, already starting to open a box of food, “they aren’t made of silk.”

“I don’t like it. It’s just not me.”

“That’s because you’re pretending to be someone else,” you grunted as you struggled to open a box, the tape being too strong for you.

Joshua, after watching you struggle, stole the box from you and dug out a switch-knife from his pockets and opened it with ease.

“Thanks.”

“Y/N,” Joshua suddenly whined, “I haven't partied in days.”

“Oh boo-hoo,” you cried, “you’re missing out on so much. Tch. I’m sure you’ll be back to partying with Nayoung and all her… friends, soon. ”

“But, I’m not,” Joshua whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “I missed it at first, but being forced to work with Chan and Vernon--” he paused, noticing the confusion on your face, “Seungcheol’s youngest brothers.”

You hummed and went back to work.

“I don’t know,” he continued, “working with them-- it made me forget about the parties and when I did remember, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing not to be at one.”

Joshua glanced at your hands. They were moving so fast but he managed to catch that you were starting to get cuts on them, a sign of your distraction. You had been doing this too long to know how to break boxes without getting cut.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you away from the tables where you had been working. He led you into one of the hallways that were deserted while everyone was working.

“I started remembering the person I was before I…” he trailed off.

He gazed at your hand, the one he was still holding onto, then at you.

It hit him then, what Jeonghan had meant.

“I used to like you before, you know. Before.”

You were silent, staring at the hand he had yet to let go.

“I want to be Josuha again,” he cried, “But, I don’t want to go back again.”

“That’s always been your choice,” you told him, a rock stuck in your throat.

“Y/N,” he cried again, placing a hand under your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

There he was again. Joshua. Not Seungcheol but Joshua. Seungcheol’s body seemed to melt away, leaving you to look at the boy you used to know. The one that had been friends with you when you were kids. The one that used to chase you with a plastic sword, screaming that he needed to save the princess.

His brown eyes didn’t look like the ones belonging to the cocky Joshua that had walked out of his room a few days ago. Even his face, without the look he had given you and Jeonghan long before, looked kinder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He was like a magnet you realized. No matter how much you felt angry at him, hurt because of everything that he had done to you and Jeonghan. He was Joshua and something about him always believed that he was somewhere still inside the cockier Joshua.

He was poison.

It was the reason you had never really gone after him. You didn’t want to attach yourself to him and try to change him when that wasn’t your call to make. You couldn’t change a person.

You were so thankful that Jeonghan reminded you constantly that Joshua-- adult, Joshua, wasn’t worth your time.

He kept you from doing something stupid.

But, right now, you saw Joshua. An adult version of the kinder Joshua you knew when you were growing up and he felt more than magnetic.

You both started leaning in, like two planets revolving around each other moments away from crashing into each other, too engrossed in his feelings.

Even if he really didn’t say anything, the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. You were milliseconds away from his lips.

“We can’t,” you said suddenly, pulling away. Seungcheol’s image was back. “This is wrong. You’re not Joshua, you’re Seungcheol.”

“But I am Joshua.”

“No, you’re not,” you said, starting to walk away, “You’re Seungcheol.” You left Joshua in the hallway, “You’ve been Seungcheol for a couple of days and it’s already gotten to you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Joshua and Seungcheol sat on chairs inside of Joshua’s room, staring at the walls. Woozi, Jeonghan and you laid on Joshua’s bed contemplating what could be done.

“Maybe tomorrow we could--”

“No,” Joshua cut you off, “she said it had to be today. Today was our last day to go back.”

“One day is not fair,” you huffed, “it’s not enough.” You looked at the clock, 11:50 pm.

“I guess we didn’t find what we’re supposed to,” Seungcheol said, sinking into his chair. Joshua groaned and kicked the floor.

The room was in silence for a while before someone else spoke up.

“If I’m going to be stuck as Seungcheol for the rest of my life then I guess I won’t be seeing you guys as often anymore,” Joshua said, suddenly looking at Jeonghan and you. He sighed, “I have to apologize for the way I’ve been acting.”

“Damn right,” Jeonghan grunted, staring pointedly at him.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way; and, thank you, Y/N, for not giving up on me or letting Jeonghan give up for that matter.”

“It’s alright,” you answered, giving him a sad smile.

Seungcheol spoke up next, “If we’re apologizing then I should apologize to you, Ji. I should have done what you said and gone to the food pantry instead of stealing. We wouldn’t be in this mess right now if I hadn’t--” Jihoon nodded at his words but looked down at his hands.

“It’s alright. I understand why you were doing it.”

The clock’s ticking grew louder than the silence you were all creating. You couldn’t help but stare at the clock, watching the seconds tick by. Suddenly, you heard the sound of two bodies hitting the floor with a loud thud. The three of you on the bed shot up to look around only to see Joshua and Seungcheol on the floor, unconscious.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Woozi said frantically, running a hand through his hair before running to them.

“Put them on the bed,” You gulped. “Put them on the bed and hope that they’re switching back.”

_______________________________________________________________________

DECEMBER 30TH

12:00am

“Joshua,” he heard your familiar voice call out to him, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. He was afraid that when he did, he would find he was still Seungcheol.

“Joshua.” He heard from you again.

“Joshua, please open your eyes,” you pleaded, looking at Joshua’s body. Besides you, Jihoon was asking Seungcheol to do the same. What could either of you do besides hope that you were both talking to the person you hoped.

But, it seemed both of them were too nervous to open their eyes; and, the longer they took to open their eyes, when you knew they were already coming to, made the dread inside of all of you grow.

“Joshua, please,” you tried again, swallowing as you sat down next to him, making the bed dip. You placed a hand against his cheek and stroked him softly with a thumb.

Joshua bit his lips. He had to do it. He knew there was no avoiding it. But a spark of coldness ran down his arms and taunted him.

“On the count of three,” he said, “one.”

“Two,” Seungcheol followed.

“Three,” they both said and opened their eyes.

A shudder ran down Joshua’s spine, not one of fear nor one of dread but one of hope and pleasure. You were leaning over him, staring into his brown eyes. Worriedly, he could tell, as your eyebrows were creased.

He swallowed, “Am I...me?”

“Joshua?” You asked, chewing your lips. The hand on his cheek stilled.

“Yeah…” He trailed off, a grin starting to grow on his face. You nodded ecstatically, grinning along with him.

“I’m back! I’m back! I’m back!” He cheered as he sat up. “I’m me again!” He yelled and enveloped you in a hug.

“Oh, right,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes curling upwards in a way you hadn’t seen since you were teenagers, “I’m back.”

“What?” You asked, chuckling a bit. His words made no sense to you. It was like he was speaking out loud when he only meant to do it privately in his thoughts.

“I’m back,” he whispered.

“You’re back,” you repeated. You stared at him quietly for a moment, worried that he would go back to his old ways.

Joshua stared into your eyes, understanding completely what was going through your brain.

“I’m back,” he repeated again, hands making their way up to your cheeks where he cupped them.

“Happy birthday, Joshua.” A single breathless laugh and teary eyes from you.

He leaned in and kissed you like he had kissed no other. _______________________________________________________________________

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tayegi · 7 years ago

Text

Revenge is a Dish Best Served... Hot? (m)

When your roommate keeps you up late at night with her noisy rendezvous with male overnight guests, you and Seokjin team up to plot your revenge... How? With a taste of her own medicine, of course.

Dedicated to my roommate :”) ily, but please let me sleep....

Warning: Seokjin smut

Word Count: 17,051

*********************************************************************************

Your heart stops in your chest when you walk in through the door of your apartment after a long day at lab—to find your roommate snuggling with a strange man you’ve never seen before on the couch. They look up at the sight of you and casually hold up their hands in greeting, but your roommate doesn’t even bother to move from where she’s practically lying in the stranger’s lap.

“You’re back from lab late,” Lei calls out to you.

You cautiously set your bag on the counter and think through your words before responding, “Yes… and I have to wake up tomorrow at six in the morning to set up an experiment.”

“Aw, you poor thing,” she offhandedly comments before turning back to her new male companion.

You remain standing in the foyer for a few moments, staring at the way she snuggles back into his embrace without a second thought. But neither of them notice your heated glare, and you have no choice but to moodily march into your bedroom… the one located directly next to the living room in which they currently occupy… with the very couch they sit on pressed against the wall of your room, your bed mere concrete inches from their canoodling… Luckily they aren’t having sex this time.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Normally, you are completely cool with your roommate having visitors over. Boyfriends, dates, one-night stands, whatever. You’ve had your fair share of hookups in the past, and it’s not your right to judge… when these hookups take place in the privacy of one’s own bedroom, that is. But your roommate has this strange preference for canoodling in your shared spaces…

And with only a thin wall to separate you from them, you can hear them as clearly as if they were standing right before you. You groan as you hastily change for bed and dive for your earplugs. But of course, it’s useless. You can still hear the high-pitched squeal of your roommate’s giggles through the spongey material. And with each passing second, the anger in the pit of your stomach heats until it reaches its boiling point.

Jin!!! You angrily text your best friend, in lieu of stomping out in the living room and giving the inconsiderate couple a piece of your mind like you’d really like to, She’s doing it again!!!!

Like always, it only takes him a minute to respond, Lei?

Yah. Who else? Ugh, im going fucking crazy!!!

What guy is it this time? The one who grunts like a pig during sex or the one who asked to borrow a pair of your socks?

Neither! It’s a new guy :(

Just tell them to shut the fuck up.

Akljslkfjsdkflsk

Srsly, ___. Just do it.

>.< ur no help! Forget it.

Want me to come over and do it for u?

N.O. trust me, Jin, that’s the last thing id ever want.

Y? bc u cant stand to see me saving ur ass again?

No, bc ud only make things worse w/ that scary face of yours.

Not my fault ur blind and cant appreciate beauty.

U look like a mean alpaca

Wut??? Y u lyin? Bitch, im beautiful and u know it!

Whatever. ur no help. Now ill just suffer through the rest of the night listening to their gross scream laughing.

Wanna sleep over instead?

Nah, u live super far away. Just forget it. Maybe I can try to shove two pairs of earplugs in D:

U need 2 just grow a pair and deal with this problem instead of avoiding it.

Asjdflklsdfk maybe one day…

Aite, coward. But don’t turn to me crying.

… why are we even friends again?

Bc no one else likes you.

Jin, r u saying u like me…?;)

No. I tolerate u. plz don’t go putting words in my mouth.

Ya ya whatever. love u too, baby <3

Istg if u call me that one more time…

Goodnight, baby 😘 😘 😘

…goodnight

You smile fondly at that last message. Why is Kim Seokjin such a tsundere? Pretending that he doesn’t care for you, when you know that he probably sees you as a little sister to him. But he’s not Jin if he’s not cold and aloof. Shaking your head in amusement, you place your phone down and lie down on the bed with a smile on your face.

You’re not sure what higher power allowed you to befriend someone like Kim Seokjin years ago in college, but you thank that unknown deity on a regular basis. You don’t know how you’d survive the stress of grad school without Jin’s snarky, dramatic, mostly unwarranted comments every day. Just thinking of your best friend is relaxing enough to put you to sleep and within minutes, you feel your exhausted mind drifting off… Until—

“HEHEHEHEHE, you’re so funny!”

Lei’s high-pitched giggling instantly slams you back into full consciousness. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling in defeat, before flopping over to muffle a scream in your pillow. Fuck your life…

*********************************************************************************

“What are you still doing?” Jin groans as he watches you type furiously at your kitchen table.

“Sorry, I just need a few more minutes,” you say as you hastily type another line of code.

“I thought you wanted to grab food!” he exclaims, “Why are you like this?”

“Shh,” you shush him, “Go stare at your reflection in the back of my laptop and shut up.”

Jin sighs dramatically, “I think it’s very irresponsible for a full grown adult woman like yourself to demand that someone drives her to lunch, only to stand them up.”

“Relax, I’m not standing you up,” you mumble as you hastily delete your line of code and reconsider it, “I just need another second to rerun these analyses… And no one told you to pick me up! I could’ve just taken the subway.”

“And get mugged again?” he snorts, “Like I’m going to let that happen. I can’t deal with that again.”

You shoot him a wry glare, “Not everyone can drive around in their fancy little cars, Mr. Rich Kid.”

“Psht. You’re the one who chose to be a broke ass grad student. Who would willingly want to be a student for another four years?!”

“Six years,” you quietly correct him.

“Six years?! Okay, that settles it. You’re officially insane.”

“At least I enjoy it! You’re the one who sold your soul to the corporate overlords and have to suffer through that boring financial… wait what do you do again?”

“How do you know nothing about me?! Investment—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you come take a look at my analyses?”

“Oh my god… I knew there was a reason you wanted me over,” Jin says with a good-natured sigh as he scoots over to peer at your laptop screen, “Your silly overeducated mind can’t handle a bit of math.”

You scowl at him as you show him the output of your analyses, “Just tell me if this is right or not…”

“What’s the magic word?” he chimes in a singsong voice.

“Sweet cheeks?” you offer.

He immediately scowls, “Forget it. Do your own damn analyses.”

“I didn’t mean that!” You exclaim, clinging onto his sleeve before he can walk away, “I’m sorry, dearest Jin! You are as rich in intelligence as you are in beauty! Please bless me with that sexy brain of yours!”

His lips twitch at your exaggerated words, but to your relief, he concedes, “Fine,” he sighs dramatically, “But only because you asked so nicely.”

You feel the urge to retort back, but you stifle it down in order to show him your output screen, “Please look this over and let me know where I fucked up…”

“What a noble man I am, helping you with the most basic math,” he’s as dramatic as always as he pulls your laptop towards him.

“Yes, my savior!” you pretend to swoon.

Jin actually cracks a smile at that, and opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment, two bodies come crashing in through the front door. Your gut twists in annoyance when you identify the intertwined bodies as Lei and her new man aggressively making out in the doorway.

At least they have the decency to briefly separate when they realize that there is company in the apartment, “Oh, hey guys,” Lei greets the two of you.

Both of you hesitantly wave back. Normally, she would spend longer chatting with the two of you (or flirting with Jin, more like), but this time, she is too engrossed with her new friend. As soon as she finishes greeting you, she reattaches her lips to her male companion’s, and they messily stumble onto the couch to make out more.

You stare at them with a disgusted look on your face, before you quickly catch yourself and politely clear your throat, “So, Jin, what do you think about my analyses?” He doesn’t respond, so you poke him after a second, “Jin?”

“Sorry, what?” he says, forcibly tearing himself from the stomach-turning spectacle, “I can’t concentrate when I’m literally on the verge of vomiting.”

You quickly shush him, horrified that your new guests on the couch might hear his offensive words, “Don’t be like this! It’s a beautiful and natural part of life!”

He ignores you, “Is this the shit you have to deal with on a daily basis?” Jin asks you in horror.

You wince, “Pretty much…”

“Damn… Ok, I’m gonna go beat them both up for you. This is unacceptable.”

“No!” you hurriedly grab his hand before he can follow through on his threat, “Come on, let’s just leave. Aren’t you hungry?”

“___, you seriously can’t keep running away from confrontation!”

“I know, but—ugh!” Frustrated, you shut your laptop and tighten your grip on his hand to forcibly drag him out of the apartment, “Lei, I’m leaving!” You call out before you step outside, but of course, she doesn’t even notice.

As soon as you shut the front door behind you, you whirl around in the hallway to face Jin, “I know that this is gross and really inconsiderate, but what can I do?”

“Just tell her to fucking stop,” he says, his solution as simple and blunt as always.

“I wish I could! But you know that her mother’s the landowner of this apartment complex. I’m paying barely half the rent of what a nice two-bedroom apartment like this downtown should go for! I can’t afford to piss her off!”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jin growls, “You can’t just let her get away with everything she wants because she can hold this over your head. Move out. Hell, if you need somewhere to stay, you can crash with me.”

“Ugh, it’s really not that simple. That’s not a permanent solution.”

“Neither is just letting her get away with this without any consequences for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, I know… I just need to think of a better approach…”

“Fine. If you won’t talk to her, then get back at her.”

That makes you pause, “Wait… what?”

“Two can play that game,” he explains, “How is it fair that she can be so inconsiderate and rude fooling around with guys in your shared living space? So you should do it too. And she’d be a complete hypocrite if she found fault in it.”

“I…” you blink as you try to think it through, “Wait… that’s not such a bad idea, actually…”

“Of course it isn’t,” he says at once, “I’m a genius, after all.”

“No, you’re really stupid,” you absentmindedly inform him as you mull over his suggestion, “Wait… no, I think this actually could work, Jin! Wow, I just need to find a man to fool around with in front of her! This is exciting!” You exclaim, beaming at this point.

“Yes, exactly. Give her a taste of her own medicine. She probably lacks the basic empathy to understand how gross this is. So you need to let her know how it feels.”

“Ok,” you grin, “I think I will, thanks Jin! I’ll call Jung Hoseok tonight and ask if he wants to come over.”

“Wait—Jung Hoseok?” Jin asks with a wrinkle of his nose, “Are you really going to go down that route again?”

“Sure, why not? I mean, he’s the ultimate fuckboi, and I would never date him, but that’s not what I want from him tonight, now is it? And I think Hobi would always be down for a hookup with no strings attached.”

Still, Jin clicks his tongue in disapproval, “That seems excessive and rather dangerous for this ploy, ___.”

“Dangerous?” You repeat in surprise, “How so?”

But he only ignores you, “Why do you actually have to hook up with someone for real? Why can’t you just fake it?”

Your brow furrows in confusion, “Fake it? How would I fake it on my own? Do you want me to pretend to masturbate or something, you pervert?!”

He cringes at the very thought, “No way, you nasty. I was just saying that I’ll help you act it out in front of her.”

“You? Really? Why would you do something like that?” you ask, shocked by the very thought.

He shrugs, “Why not? It’ll be fun. You know I’d love nothing more than to get back at that gross, overly touchy roommate of yours.”

You pull a face of sympathy when you remember all the unwarranted flirting and excessive skinship Lei had subjected Jin to over the years you’ve lived with her. “But she knows we’re friends. She’ll never believe that we’re hooking up.”

“Why not? I’m hot. Of course you’d want to fuck me.”

You glare at him, but don’t have the energy to discipline him for once, “But why would you want to fuck me? That’s the unbelievable part!”

“Why not?” he says in a flippant tone, “I’m hot and horny, you’ve got tits, we’ve been friends for years, and things just fell together. Boom, done. Now let’s go get omelets.”

“Seokjin, they’ve long stopped serving breakfast.”

“Damn it, woman!” he exclaims, “I told you to hurry up!”

You can’t help but grin at that, “Guess we’re just going to have to eat fried chicken again!”

He shoots you a glare, “Again?”

You beam back, “Yup!”

*********************************************************************************

“Ok, she’s supposed to come back from the grocery store any minute now,” you hiss at Jin that next weekend, when you finally find the time to put your plan into action.

“Alright, what should I do?” he asks as he flops down on the couch next to you.

“Hmm… I’m not sure,” you say as you awkwardly swing your legs over his.

He easily lifts your legs and drags them over his lap, “Should I take off my shirt?” he asks, fingers already fidgeting with the top button.

“No!” You exclaim, sitting up to grab his hands, “What’s wrong with you?!”

“Oh please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “You know you want to see it.”

“No, I don’t,” you snap back, and for good measure, you pull up the front of his shirt to cover him up to the neck, “Keep that nasty shit to yourself.”

“How is she ever going to believe that we’re fucking?” he sighs.

You pull your legs off of his lap, “I knew I should’ve just called Hoseok,” you groan.

“No, we can make this work,” he says, suddenly leaning down to lay on top of you, hands pressed into the cushions on either side of your face to keep from crushing you, “Isn’t this better?”

But you flush at his close proximity. Whenever you think that you’ve finally gotten used to his impossibly handsome face, he proves you wrong. And lying on top of you like this, with his face inches away from yours… You can see every detail of his face from the sharp angles of his jaw, to the intensity of his dark gaze, and the fullness of his pink lips. Flustered, you squeeze your eyes shut, and blindly fumble out of his grip.

“No, it’s not!” You exclaim as you shove him off of you.

He looks at you, surprised by your dramatic reaction, “What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing! I just… I want to be on top instead!” You practically shout as you push him on his back.

Confused, Jin nevertheless complies, “Alright, fine. Whatever floats your boat, you crazy woman.”

You sigh deeply. He’s a lot less threatening now that he’s on his back with his lips far away from yours, and you find yourself finally able to relax. Until you realize that you need to climb onto his body. “I just don’t want Lei to get the wrong impression,” you mutter as you awkwardly shuffle around on the couch, looking for the best position, “Can’t let her think that you’re the one in charge here.”

Jin snorts, but nevertheless crosses his arms behind his head and watches you make your approach under half-lidded eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe. Now climb on up.”

Your face nearly explodes with heat from his casual use of the pet name. “You’re so annoying,” you grumble under your breath as you swing a leg over his waist. But it feels ten times more awkward to straddle him, and you quickly scramble up to hover above his stomach instead, avoiding his crotch like the plague. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then—

“Is this normally how you hook up with guys, ___?” Jin asks as he cranes up his head to try to look at you.

You scowl down at him, “Are you questioning my methods?”

“Yup. Stop being so damn awkward and sit down on me already.”

You flush at his word choice, “J-Jin, I—”

But he grows impatient with your hesitance and takes it upon himself to grab you by the hips and yank you down on him so that you straddle him around the hips, making you sit directly on his—

“Jin!” You yell out in indignation, your face as hot as a furnace at this point as you grab at his vast shoulders for balance.

That smug bastard is as unfazed as always, “What?” he says with a cock of an eyebrow.

You tighten your grip on his shoulders, “Nothing,” you spit out, “You’re just really… skinny,” you say, dragging your nails down his torso as a punishment.

He snorts in response and grabs your hands to flatten against his chest, “Does it feel like I’m just skinny?” he says as he forces you to feel the hardness of his pecs.

“Yes,” you growl, “You bony ass bitch.”

His face scrunches into a scowl and he opens his mouth to offer you an undoubtedly biting retort, but at the moment, the front door swings open.

“Hey, ___, I’m back. How are—AH! What is that?” Lei squeals when she realizes that you’re lying on top of a man, “Wait, is that Kim Seokjin?!”

Your best friend awkwardly pops his head out, “Hi.”

“Oh my fucking god… Are you guys hooking up?!”

“…Uh…Yes?”

Jin winces at your robotic answer and tries to make up for it by smoothing a hand up your thigh, making you jump in surprise, “It’s been like a year now,” he informs her, “Where have you been?”

Lei just shakes her head as she puts down her grocery bags on the ground, “I should’ve known. You guys were always too close to just be friends.”

But that comment makes you frown, “What do you mean by that?”

Jin slaps a hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up before you can question her further, “Just shut up while we’re still ahead,” he growls into your ear, “And fool around with me.”

“What are you talking about?!” you hiss back, alarmed.

Instead of responding, he splays a large hand across your lower back and shoves you flush against him. It takes everything in your power to keep from squealing out in surprise, but when Jin unexpectedly bites down on your earlobe, you can’t help the squeak from bursting out.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he whispers in your ear, “Can’t you moan like a normal person?”

“I-I’m sorry? I just wasn’t expecting—eep!” you squeal again when he presses a kiss to the sensitive skin under your chin.

He pulls back with a sigh, “Why are you acting like this? You’re the one who wanted to cause a scene, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, but I—” You stop there, embarrassed. How can you explain that you were expecting to just roll around, faking it? How naïve could you be?

Jin sighs again, “Fine, you can suck on my neck instead,” he says, craning his head upward to allow you access.

You pause at that, gazing down at the sight before you with wide eyes. Here is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, laid out before you like a seven-course meal, just waiting for you to have a taste. Your mouth waters, and if not for your crippling embarrassment, you might have dived right in to eat him whole. But this is your best friend… your platonic best friend who has never seen you as a woman. He’s just doing this as a favor to you, and you won’t allow yourself take advantage of the situation and enjoy this too much…

Easier said than done.

The moment you lean your face down, his masculine scent overwhelms you, making you lightheaded at once. You silently say a prayer in your mind, then lean down to press your lips against his neck. It’s a dry kiss—just a peck of your lips to his skin, but it still makes shivers slide down your back. How many times have you imagined touching him like this? Back in the budding years of your friendship during college, this was all you could think about. It would drive you insane, fighting back your urges to touch him, and staying awake at night stewing over your jealousies of his new fling of the week. It can’t be healthy opening this door again, when you’ve been doing so well keeping non-platonic thoughts of your friend out of your mind for so long… But how can you resist?

When Jin makes no sound of protest, you grow bolder, greedily parting your lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you flick your tongue over his pulse point. There’s a beat of silence, where you realize what you’ve done and crippling embarrassment fills you. You’re just about to sit up and beg for forgiveness, when Jin does something very unexpected. He weaves a hand through your hair and pushes your head closer.

“Jin,” you whisper against his neck, shocked by the action.

He simply hums in response, “Keep going.”

Your heart is fluttering like a little bird in its cage as you silently obey. As though intoxicated, you can’t help but plant a series of open-mouthed kisses across the expanse of his neck, admiring the way his muscles flex as he twists his head to allow you room. But when you graze your teeth across a prominent vein, he suddenly groans.

“Do that again.”

The low, rumbly quality of his voice makes shivers wrack your body as you jump to do as he says. You gently sink your teeth into a patch of skin under his ear and soothe over the bite marks with your tongue until he groans again. You know that the sounds are probably for show—to feign pleasure to your snooping roommate, but you can’t help the way they send heat straight to your core.

Another few seconds of this, and Jin begins to shift from underneath you, presumably from discomfort. Instantly feeling guilty for sitting on him so heavily, you spring up to relieve him of your weight. But you’re a bit fuzzy with arousal and miscalculate your movements, unintentionally sliding down on him further… until your thigh rams into a strange hardness in the left leg of his jeans… wait could that be—?

“Ugh, how long are you two going to continue doing that?!” Lei’s shrill voice breaks you from your reverie.

You spring away from Jin as though burned, “Wh-what?” your voice is trembling, but you can’t help it.

Lei glowers at you from across the room, “I am trying to make dinner here.”

As though completely unperturbed by what had just occurred on the couch, Jin smoothly answers for you, “What’s wrong, Lei?” he asks with a perfectly arched brow, “Does this bother you?”

She glares back, “Not at all,” she spits through gritted teeth. “You know what? I’ll just eat out.” And with that, she snatches her purse off the counter and marches out the door.

You flinch as the door slams after her. Then you turn to stare at Jin with wide eyes, “Oh my god… I can’t believe that actually worked.”

He chuckles, “I told you it would, didn’t I?”

You laugh along with him, even as you peel yourself off his body and slide to the floor, “Thanks, Jin. She actually believed it! Now she’ll think before hooking up with a guy in our common space again!”

“Great. Just let me know if you need my help again,” he says as he rises to his feet.

“Wait, are you going somewhere?” you ask in confusion as you watch him pick up his phone from the coffee table and slip it into his pocket.

“Yeah, I have work in the morning. I should go home and prepare.”

“But I thought we were going to get dinner after this?”

“Next time,” he says as he makes his way to the door.

You’re a bit stung by his cold rejection. He doesn’t even have the decency to look at you as he blows off your dinner plans. Normally, you’d scold him for this kind of behavior, but this time, you’re a bit relieved that he’s leaving after such an awkward encounter.

“Ok. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah. See you later,” and without a second glance, he walks straight out of your apartment.

As soon as the door closes behind him, you collapse into an undignified pile on the ground, groaning weakly and clutching at your still pounding heart. What the hell had happened back there?!

*********************************************************************************

Unfortunately, it becomes apparent over the next week that your ploy with Jin did not work at all. Lei brings home a new guy less than three days after your romp on the couch, and to your utmost dismay, they go at it all night long. You’re basically a walking zombie the next day at school, horrifying your lab mates by the way you hog the French press throughout the entire day.

By the time you finally leave lab that evening, you’d like nothing more than to just faceplant in bed hibernate for about a decade. You trudge into your apartment complex, let yourself in through the front door, and nearly jump out of your skin in surprise at the sight of Kim Seokjin chilling on the couch.

“AHH! You scared me!” You exclaim, clutching your heart in fear, “How did you get in here?!”

“Your doorman recognized me and let me in the building,” Jin informs you, completely unfazed by your dramatic reaction.

“Oh… that makes sense… Wait, no! How did you get into my apartment?!”

“I have a spare key.”

“Oh…” You say, blinking at the realization. Then—“Wait, what?! How do you have a spare key?!”

“Your mom gave me one.”

“She did what?!”

“Shh. Keep your voice down. You’re so noisy,” he says with a wince. “I wouldn’t have had to barge in here if you would just pick up your phone… Why are you so late?”

“Late for what? …Oh shit. We were supposed to have dinner tonight, weren’t we?!” Wide-eyed, you dive for your phone, and sure enough, there are three missed calls, all from Jin. “I’m sorry, I don’t have service on the subway.”

He scoffs, “I could’ve just picked you up from lab.”

You hastily shake your head at the very thought of it, “Seriously, it’s not a big deal…”

“Fine… what do you want to eat?”

You hesitate, “Jin… it’s always nice to eat out with you… but maybe it’d be nicer to get take out?”

He squints at you in suspicion, “What’s up with you?”

Damn! How did he see through you so quickly? You widen your eyes, trying to play innocent, “Nothing! I just… wouldn’t this be more convenient?”

Still, he scrutinizes you from head to toe with those sharp eyes of his, “Why are you saying this? And why do you look so terrible? Do you have manuscript deadlines again?”

“No, that’s not it,” you quickly say, not wanting to worry him.

“Midterms? Bad meeting with your advisor?”

“No, no. None of those. Seriously, don’t worry. I just didn’t sleep well last night and I’m kinda tired.”

He leans forward so far that his nose nearly brushes you, making you instinctively jump back in surprise, “It’s Lei again, isn’t it?”

You freeze at that, like a deer caught in the headlights, “N-no?”

But he sees through you like you’re transparent, “Ugh, so our scheme didn’t work?”

You awkwardly drop your eyes to your feet as vivid memories of what had transpired between the two of you in this very room come flashing back, “No, I don’t think so… But hey at least we tried, right?”

You don’t have to look up to know that he’s boiling with anger, “Hell no!” he curses, “Are you seriously going to let that asshole get away with it? No, we’re just going to have to think bigger!” He dramatically declares.

“Jin…”

“Trust me, ___we’ll make her regret messing around with you like this.”

“Ok…” you warily agree, “If you say so…” but you can’t shake the excitement that bubbles in your chest at the thought of what he has in store for you.

*********************************************************************************

The next day, you find yourself propped up on the kitchen counter with Jin standing between your legs.

“When is Lei coming home?” he asks as he casually rubs his large hands over your thighs.

But you’re too distracted by the feeling of his warm palms on your bare skin that you can’t think, let alone respond. Why did you choose to wear shorts today, of all days…?

“___?” he says your name in confusion when you take too long to respond.

You jerk your head up in surprise, “Y-yes?”

He frowns at your strange behavior, “Your roommate… Lei. When is she coming back?”

“I… um…” you blink hazily at him, too mesmerized by the beauty of his perfectly symmetrical features up close to process his words, “What?”

He raises an eyebrow, and tries to ask the question for the third time, when there’s the sound of a key in the lock. “Hurry and kiss me.”

“W-what?!”

But at that moment, he reaches forward to cup your face in both hands and presses his lips against yours. The door slides open, and Lei curses at what she finds in the kitchen, but you barely notice. You’re too fully engrossed in the heady sensation of Jin’s silken lips sliding against your own.

“Hi guys, I’m home!” Lei practically yells to catch your attention.

Jin pecks your lips one more time before he pulls away to flash her a displeased look over his shoulder, “Hey.” And with that, he leans in to kiss you again.

Normally, you’d be embarrassed by this public display of affection, especially with your best friend of the last half-decade. But you can’t process anything other than the fact that the most beautiful man on planet earth is kissing you… finally. Never in a million years would you have ever predicted such a thing.

“What are you doing?” Jin whispers to you between long, languid kisses, “Kiss me back.”

That makes you realize that you’ve been completely still this whole time, unable to move one inch from fear as you passively accept his kisses. Tentatively, you begin to move your lips against his, but as soon as you reciprocate, Jin suddenly freezes. For a moment, you’re terrified that you’ve offended him somehow. Are you a terrible kisser? Do you disgust him?

But less than half a second passes before he emits a sound from the back of his throat that sounds suspiciously like a moan, then deepens the kiss. Surprised by the action, your hand instinctively flattens against his chest, but you’re unsure if this is to push him back or urge him closer. Jin interprets it as the latter and steps forward until he’s flush against you, forcing you to feel the hard lines of his body.

You must be possessed. There’s no other way to explain it. Why else would you take it upon yourself to explore the firmness of his torso with interest? It is completely unlike you to boldly slip your hands under his thin t-shirt and grope at the tight muscles of his stomach like a fucking pervert.

To make matters worse, Jin doesn’t provide an ounce of resistance as he eagerly arches into your touch and slides his hand from your face to grab at your hips instead. Then, he suddenly grabs at your thighs, forcing them to lock around his waist. And that’s when you feel it again. The strange hardness in his jeans that you felt a week ago during that incident on the couch. And there is no fucking way of mistaking it this time: Kim Seokjin is aroused. He has a fucking boner that you caused. What the fuck is happening?!

At that realization, heady arousal slams into you with the force of a sledgehammer. All you can think about is grinding against his erection. You want to touch him, kiss him, feel him all over. But most of all, you just want to make him feel good. It’s more than a desire at this point, but a raw need. At this point, you are so drunk off the sensations of his hard body pressed against yours and his sinful tongue sliding down your throat that you almost do something very stupid. Your hands dart to his belt, tingling with the need to touch him—

But the hard slam of a door makes you break away from him with a little yelp.

“You guys are fucking disgusting,” Lei mutters under her breath as she escapes to her bedroom.

There’s a brief moment of disoriented tension between you and Jin where all that can be heard in the kitchen is your heavy pants. But then he steps away from you, leaving you cold from the lack of contact.

“Jin…” you whisper in a small voice, “Wh-what was that?”

Despite his harsh breathing, your best friend seems relatively unaffected by what had just transpired between the two of you. He nonchalantly shrugs, “What do you mean?”

You stare at him for a moment, but the sight of his flustered appearance, with his full lips swollen by your kisses and his cheeks tinged a rosy shade of pink, only makes the voracious desire in the pit of your stomach flare with need. You tear your eyes away, “I… I don’t know. I think… I think we may have taken that too far.”

“Whatever. It worked, right?” his tone is unexpectedly cold as he responds.

You glance up in surprise before lowering your gaze again, “Yeah… but what just happened… um… should we talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he snaps, “We took it too far, right? We’re just friends, right?”

“Right…” you hesitantly reply, wondering what you’ve said to piss him off so much, “Just friends… nothing else… It’s not like we’re attracted to each other or anything crazy like that…” you say, praying that he’ll object to that obvious lie. The burning erection in his pants is undeniable proof otherwise.

He snorts, making you look up in hopeful surprise, “Don’t you even try lying to my face.”

“…Jin?”

“There’s no way you’re not attracted to me, so don’t even try with that bullshit.”

That was not what you were expecting at all. Angered by his arrogance, you flash him the deadliest glare that you can muster, “You’re so full of yourself, Kim Seokjin. Do you really think that every girl in this universe wants to hop on that dick?”

“Of course not,” he smoothly says, “but you clearly do.”

“How is your head so fucking big?” you snap, horrified by how spot-on he is with that assessment. “And look who’s talking: you were hard as a rock, asshole.”

Jin’s eyes pop open, as though shocked that you’ve noticed. “Yeah, so what?” he spits back, even as he awkwardly hovers both hands over his crotch area, “I’m human, of course I’m gonna pop a boner if someone’s fondling me in such a perverse way! Don’t think you’re special.”

Your face heats at the insult, “Really? So you weren’t attracted to me at all? You would’ve just popped a boner for anyone?”

“Yeah, exactly,” he says with a glare, “It’s just like masturbating, isn’t it? Being touched feels good.”

“Great,” you growl, “Well you can go take care of that yourself, dickface.”

“Or you could do it for me.”

That makes you stop in your tracks, “Wh-what?”

He rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, “Don’t get any ideas in that simple little mind of yours. It’ll just feel a bit better than my own hand.”

Anger flares in your chest from his condescending tone, and before you know what you’re doing, you’ve reached over to grab him roughly through the pants. “Does this feel just a bit better than your own hand?” you mock him as you massage his erection with both hands.

Jin licks his swollen bottom lip before shooting you a glare relatively devoid of any real anger, “Barely.”

Your eyes flash, and then you’re reaching into his pants to grab his bare cock. This time, Jin can’t help his instinctive reaction to your touch, doubling over as though he’d been punched, “___!”

You ignore him to squeeze what you can of his length in the restrictive confines of his pants. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

His eyes dart to yours, “Don’t you fucking dare do that or I swear to god, ___.”

You resist a shiver at the sound of his uncharacteristically deep voice that’s dropped an entire octave with arousal. Drunk on his reactions, you would happily obey, but a new thought pops in your mind about how the two of you aren’t alone. You pause and try to remove your hand from inside his pants, but Jin quickly grabs your wrist, fearful that you might leave him hanging, “Lei could come out and see us,” you remind him in a hushed voice.

He relaxes slightly at that, “Then we’ll go into your room,” And without waiting for a response, he drags you in that direction.

He practically bursts into your bedroom and kicks the door shut behind him. You blush at the sight of your messy, unmade bed, but Jin gives zero fucks as he eagerly sprawls across your sheets and yanks at his belt. As you watch him, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. This is your best friend of half a decade. If you cross this line, you might as well be flushing years of friendship down the toilet. What are you doing right now?

But at that moment, Jin finally gets his belt undone and yanks down his pants and boxers without a second thought, his hard dick instantly bouncing up to slap against his stomach. As soon as your eyes land on his throbbing length, you’re done for. All thoughts about the ethics of this situation drop from your mind as you crawl onto the bed after him, eyes fixated on his bare cock and practically salivating at the sight.

Jin watches you from under hooded lids, seemingly nonchalant as he lays back against your headboards, hands propped behind his head, but when you grab him in your warm hand again, his entire body spasms.

You can’t get over the feeling of him in your hand, so hard and big, yet velvety-soft to the touch. And the way he keeps twitching, as though trying to jump closer to the heat of your hand, is intoxicating.

You gently squeeze him from base to tip, marveling when copious amounts of precum slide down his cock from your action. It slickens your movements, allowing you to give him longer, harder strokes with each passing second.

After a minute or so, Jin suddenly crashes his head back against the wall with a loud groan of frustration. Startled, you look up at him, and nearly jump out of your skin in surprise to find him already staring down at you, his gaze so heated that you feel almost painfully hot in your own skin.

“Jin…” you whisper his name, cringing at the dry, broken quality of your voice. You lick your lips for moisture, ignoring the way his eyes lock on the gesture, and try again, “Jin, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, but the word comes out as a strangled groan, “Fuck.”

No matter what bullshit he tries to tell you, you know that he likes this. He likes this a lot, if the way he shivers and pants, his hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets underneath him is any indication. His teeth are gritted so hard that you can see a muscle jumping in his cheek, revealing just how difficult it must be for him to hold back his sounds.

You pout slightly at the realization. You’d like nothing more than to hear him moan for you. But you have a role to play here—you’re supposed to be completely indifferent, and begging for him to moan your name would ruin that purpose, no matter how much you want it. Somehow, you still value your ego more. Just like he does.

So you pump him harder, lowering your eyes to your work to avoid the heat of his gaze, and biting down hard on your bottom lip to resist the urge to taste him… The hot precum leaking from his tip is so tempting, but you force yourself to stay strong. You can’t let him win, like he always does. Not this time. It’s been your mission in life to prove to him that you’re not just another one of his fawning fangirls hanging onto his every word. You refuse to be that person… maybe because you want to be more than just that to him…

If you let your emotions take control right now, then you’ll be doomed. You’ll let him know how much you care… How much you’ve always cared about him. And then he’ll just laugh you off, like probably does with all the other love-struck admirers. You stand no chance. This will be as much as you’ll ever get from him.

And with that in mind, you suddenly slow down your pace, realizing that this is the only chance you’ll get to ever touch him. You close your eyes as you try to remember every detail—the weight of his cock in your hand, the very texture and warmth; his ragged breathing and the way he looks, whole body drenched in sweat. It’s then that you realize with a sinking heart that no man will ever compare. That this is it.

“Fuck, ___,” Jin groans, tearing you away from your thoughts, “Are you trying to kill me?”

You ignore him to wring your fist up his length, paying special attention to the sensitive head of his cock.

Jin curses again, “Fucking hell, ____! Why are you doing this to me?” He shifts in obvious discomfort on the bed, hips lifting towards your stingy touch.

“What do you mean?” you say as you examine his heavy, pulsating erection. It’s so hot and red, you can only imagine that he’s practically at his bursting point. You almost feel sorry for him. But if he hates this so much, he can just get himself off. His hands are just about as good as yours, apparently.

Jin throws his head back and groans deeply when you slide a thumb across his slit, “You’re fucking doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” you snort, “Aren’t you just getting a little desperate?”

“Yeah, because I want to fucking cum and you’re making it impossible,” he spits back, “Why are you so lazy? Why can’t you put in some fucking effort?”

“I’m just not interested,” You smoothly lie through your teeth, “This is so boring to me.”

“If we’re just friends and you’re not attracted to me whatsoever, then why the fuck are you even doing this?” Jin growls.

He’s got you there. “And if you’re not attracted to me either, then why do you want this so badly?” you shoot back, instead of addressing his question.

“Because your hands are soft and I want to fucking cum on them!” he practically snarls, “Don’t you dare think this has anything to do with you.”

Your nostrils flare in anger, and you’re almost tempted to just drop his cock and stomp out of the room. But that would mean that you’ve let him get under your skin. And you’re determined to not let him affect you one bit.

“Fine,” you snap. And with that, you begin jerking him off as fast as you can.

Jin’s entire form crumples at once, as he practically folds his larger frame over you. He’s a bit slow with his reactions this time and doesn’t have the self-control to hold himself back before a strangled moan tears through the room.

You ignore him and the wetness in your underwear as you impatiently stroke him towards his orgasm. His precum is still flowing, but it’s not quite enough, and you quickly duck your head to spit on him to further lubricate your movements.

Clearly not expecting that, Jin shouts out your name, astonished by the vulgar action, “___!”

“Shut up,” you growl in response, redoubling your efforts. He’s so close right now. You can feel it viscerally as if it was your own pleasure. The way his arms shake with the effort to keep him upright, the way his breathing goes haywire, and the way every muscle in his body tenses like a coil… He’s either on the edge or right there. And true to your expectations, it only takes another minute of your harsh pumping before he’s suddenly latching out to grab you with both hands.

“Fuck!” he shouts, entire body trembling as he bursts all over your hands. Any semblance of self-control disappears at that instant, where he helplessly jerks his hips up into your hand, desperate for more friction.

You patiently stroke him through his orgasm, using his excessive cum as lubrication. He meets you stroke for stroke, and the fluid motions of his hips makes your mouth go dry. You’ve never seen anything so fucking hot as Kim Seokjin when consumed mindless by his powerful orgasm.

But all good things must come to an end, and a few seconds later, he pushes away your hands with a shiver of overstimulation. You reluctantly withdraw and stare down at your cum-coated hands. For a second, you’re nearly overcome with the need to taste him by sucking his cum off of your fingers one by one. Somehow, you resist and reach over to pluck a few tissues from the nightstand, “Ew.”

Jin is still breathing too hard to respond. He shakily brushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead and tucks his spent length back in his pants, “Sh-shut up.”

You ignore him to reach for the hand sanitizer instead, intentionally rubbing it on in front of him to prove a point.

A heavy silence suffuses the room, and you have no idea how to address it as you carry on with your act. You realize that the logical course of action is to kick him out of your apartment… But you don’t really want to do that.

“Come on,” Jin says, breaking through the tension, “Lie on your back. I’ll eat you out or something.”

But the way he says it makes it sound like a chore, and your face heats at the implication, “Forget it, asshole. Don’t even front. I know what a selfish bastard you are.”

His brow furrows with indignation, “What the fuck? I’ll prove to you just how wrong you are. Get on your back, kid.”

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say to him as it just encouraged his competitive drive. You try a different approach, “No way. Why do you think I would ever want that?”

“Are you still playing this game? Calm down and let me rub one out for you.”

His crassness makes you shrivel up in embarrassment. There’s nothing you’d want more, but you know that the moment you drop your pants, he’ll realize how turned on you are… You’ve already soaked through your panties at this point, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you left a stain against the bed sheets. And he can’t know how aroused you are from just pleasuring him. You would never survive the embarrassment.

“Stop it,” you say, “Just leave me alone.”

You’re not sure if you’re more relieved or disappointed when he concedes. “Fine,” he bites out, “I didn’t want to go through that effort anyways, so you spared me.”

That stings more than it should. “Whatever. Just go home, asshole.”

Jin doesn’t even look at you as he angrily buttons his pants and yanks his clothes back into place. Then, without sparing you a single word, he marches straight out of your bedroom. You count down from ten in your head, and the moment you hear the front door slam shut, you collapse onto your bed with a deep groan. It feels like all the energy has left your body, making you feel exhausted enough to sleep for a decade.

What you had just done to Jin… That was single-handedly the sexiest experience of your life. And yet… why do you feel so empty?

*********************************************************************************

You don’t speak to Jin for the next week. For most friends, this is a pretty normal occurrence. But you and Jin are so close that it’s odd to not speak to him for even a day, much less an entire week. The first few days are tough. You almost forget that you’re fighting multiple times throughout the week, and pick up your phone to complain to him about the harsh feedback your advisor’s sent you, or the annoying thing Lei’s done this time, before you collect yourself.

But when the 10-day mark rolls by, you feel your defenses crumbling. You find yourself pausing in the hallway outside of your apartment, staring down at your dry phone with a frown. Normally Fridays are your bi-weekly dinner dates with Jin. It’s been a tradition between the two of you since you were in your second year of university. Surely, he wouldn’t be petty enough to forget this… right?

You’re about to pull up Jin’s contact in your phone to call him when a family of four nearly plow you over in their hurry to the elevator.

“Sorry, Miss!” the frazzled mother yells out before she shoos her children into the elevator.

It’s too hazardous to stand out here in the busy hallway, so you quickly unlock the front door of your apartment unit and let yourself in before hitting the green “call” button. You’re just about to toss your keys on the counter when a loud vibration makes you jump in surprise. Oh, you thought you were home alone. Lei was supposed to be out until late tonight. You look up to greet her, but the smile slides right off your face when you find someone much bigger than Lei sitting in the living room. The keys slip between your fingers to fall to the ground with a loud clatter.

“Oh, shit.”

But Jin beats you to it, rushing across the room to pick up your fallen keys for you, “Here,” he says as he hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you resist the urge to shiver as his fingers brush yours. Then you drop your gaze to your feet, too overwhelmed by his sudden appearance to look him in the eye, “Jin, what are you doing here?”

“Tch, don’t tell me you forgot about our dinner night?”

You peek up at him in embarrassment, “Really…? You’re not still mad at me?”

He rolls his eyes at that, “How can I be mad at you for something so stupid? Come on. Put down your backpack and let’s go.”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, you lurch forward to throw your arms around his neck in a painfully tight embrace, “I’m sorry, Jin!”

He chuckles as he hugs you back, “Don’t be, ___... Seriously. Don’t be.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you don’t care. All you know is that you have your best friend back, “Let’s never do anything so stupid again.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he finally lets you go, “If you say so.”

*********************************************************************************

Jin insists on walking you back to your apartment after dinner (even though his car is parked just on the curb), and you decide that it’s only proper to invite him in for a drink. But as Jin watches you fumble around in the kitchen with a beer in his hand, he suddenly shoots you with an unexpected question:

“Hey, ___, have you ever thought about me as more than a friend?”

You nearly drop the glass you had been cleaning in shock, “Wh-what?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time. Surely you must have thought about it one time or the other?” he calls out as casually as if he was discussing the weather.

You slowly put down the glass as you deliberate your next words carefully. But how can you evade the question without straight-up lying to his face? “I… I’m not sure why you’re asking me that,” you slowly say.

Jin sighs deeply and plops down his beer on the coffee table, “Stop cleaning and come sit with me for a second.”

There’s no way you can reject that simple request without appearing suspicious, so you reluctantly wipe your hands and join him, “What’s up, Jin?” you ask as you cautiously take a seat next to him on the couch and fold your legs underneath yourself.

He pauses for a moment, fiddling with the hem of his oversized cream sweater, before speaking, “I know that I’m not your type. That’s what you’ve been telling me since we first met. But surely over the past five years that we’ve been friends, it must have crossed your mind at one point or the other, right?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of his intentions behind this line of questioning, but terrified, nevertheless, “I’m not sure what you mean, Jin.”

He sighs in frustration before trying again, “Come on, ___. You can be honest here… Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

Your mouth instantly goes dry at his question, and for a moment it feels like you can’t breathe. “Wh-what are you--? Why… I-I never!” you choke on your words, then hurriedly backtrack to try to fix your mistake, “I mean, I’m not blind. I can admit that you’re objectively hot, but that doesn’t mean that I want to—” You break off, embarrassed beyond belief, “God, Jin! Where the hell is this coming from?!”

But the tall dark-haired man purses his lips together tightly and steamrolls on, “Really, ___? So you’re trying to tell me that in our five years of friendship, not once did you ever think about me sexually?”

You take a moment to inhale deeply and brace yourself, “Never,” you lie through your teeth.

His eyes narrow, “Really?”

“Really.”

He cocks his head to the side as he considers you, brow furrowed as though deep in thought. Then, he unexpectedly lets out a bark of laughter, “Bullshit.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Bullshit,” he growls, “I know it’s not all in my head. I know that you want me, ___.”

Your face heats with indignation, “What the fuck’s gotten into you these days?!” you seethe, “I know how you act with the other girls, but can you keep your oversized ego in check with me at least?!”

“Fine, if you’re not the least bit attracted to me, then come here,” he says, grabbing you by the hands to drag you closer to him on the couch so that your thighs touch, “Do you really feel nothing when I’m this close to you?”

“No!” You exclaim at once, though you can’t help the way your body floods with warmth at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“Really? Look at me, ___. You seriously don’t want to kiss me right now?”

“No, not at all!” you shriek as you try to rip your hands out of his grip, but he’s a lot stronger than you expected.

“So what you’re trying to say is that you feel nothing for me,” he presses on, a strange desperation flashing in his eyes before he quickly masks it, “There is absolutely no attraction between us, and you’ll only ever see me as a friend?”

“Yes,” you lie, since it’s all you’re good at, “I don’t like you, Seokjin, and I never will.”

At that, he drops your wrists as though burned, “Alright,” he mutters in a bitter tone, “I understand.”

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth to try to calm your pounding heart. It doesn’t work. “Good,” you whisper in a hoarse tone. Then you rise to your knees and smash your lips to his.

Jin is completely still for the longest, most devastating second of your life. You’re about to furiously apologize then throw yourself out the window in disgrace when he suddenly grabs you by the back of the neck and forcibly deepens the kiss. And then his tongue is in your mouth, boldly pressing past your teeth and curling with yours as his fingers tighten around your neck, holding you captive.

His kisses are nothing like the modest, chaste ones he gave you in the kitchen a week and a half ago. This time he’s on the edge of violent, devouring you whole and holding onto you so hard that you have zero chance of escape. It’s as though he’s afraid that you might try to leave again. But you wouldn’t even if you could. Because this has been five whole years in the making. You’ve wanted him since the first time you laid eyes on him. And now that you’ve finally got him…

You feel like you’re drowning under the heat of his touch. It’s like the blood rushing through your veins has turned to molten lava, burning you from the inside out. You’re completely powerless as you get swept up by your desires, like a leaf in the wind. All you can do is relish the sensations, clinging onto Jin with both hands as you silently beg him for more.

And he does not disappoint. Without missing a beat or breaking the heated kiss, Jin shoves both hands up your shirt, hot fingers trailing along your stomach and ribcage for a second before he boldly grabs your breasts. You gasp into his mouth in surprise, and the sound turns into a guttural moan when Jin slides his mouth from yours to suck deep bruises into the tender skin under your jaw. The multitude of sensations leaves you breathless. But before you can rip off your shirt to allow him better access, Jin suddenly jumps up and hauls you off your feet with formidable strength you weren’t aware he possessed.

His lips are on yours again before you can comment on this new development, distracting you with hot kisses until your back hits something springy. You break from the kiss with a yelp of surprise to find yourself in your bedroom, pressed flat against your messy sheets as Jin continues to mouth at the crook of your neck. Somehow, he had carried you to your room when you were unaware. And now that he’s not limited by the awkward positioning of your bodies on the couch, he’s able to lower himself on top of you, trapping you under his broad frame with no restrictions.

“Jin!” You yell out in shock when a shift of his hips has you feeling the painfully hard erection in his jeans for the first time.

He ignores you to yank on one of your legs, forcing it to wrap around his waist and allowing himself surface area to grind against as he loses himself to his lust. And then it hits you like a slap to the face that this is actually happening. That this isn’t going to be some casual make out session or another quick handjob. That after all of these years of fantasizing and waiting, you’re finally going to have sex with Kim Seokjin. This is actually happening.

“Seokjin,” you murmur his name when he begins nipping down to your cleavage, making him freeze in his tracks.

“…Yes?” He asks as he stares up at you with fearful wide eyes. You instantly recognize the trepidation in them, confusing you for a moment before awareness dawns upon you. He’s scared… because he thinks that you might ask him to stop. And you know that he would. He would do it in a heartbeat if that’s what you wanted. But he’s so aroused that it wouldn’t be anything short of excruciating.

So you giggle softly to dispel his fears and affectionately lean up to nip his earlobe, “Take off your clothes, Jin,” you whisper in his ear.

Your sultry request incites something within him, because less than a second passes before he’s shooting up onto his haunches and ripping off his clothes at lightning speed. You gasp out loud at the sight of his bare chest, hungry fingers darting to touch the hard muscle, but before you can make contact, Jin pushes your hands away to undress you as well. In a blink of an eye, your shirt hits the ground along with your bra. Jin pauses for a moment there, distracted by the mouthwatering sight of your breasts, but quickly refocuses when you wiggle out of your jeans and carelessly kick them off to the ground, leaving you decked in only a pair of thin cotton underwear. And together, the two of you peel them off your legs, leaving you entirely naked before him.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes shamelessly devouring you from head to toe as he runs his tongue over his lips over and over, practically salivating at the sight of your bare body spread out across the sheets.

Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself with your hands, “Jin…”

He possessively rips your hands from your body and pins them above your head, “Don’t you dare cover yourself from me,” he growls before covering your lips with his swollen red ones again.

His grip is as strong as steel around your wrists and you couldn’t break free even if you wanted to. You never knew that your handsome, princely best friend possessed such strength, and it’s sexy to say the least. He had always seemed almost delicate, like he would be flimsy in bed, but you could’ve have been more wrong. It feels like a wall of concrete is closing in on you, surprisingly well-defined muscles rippling with every movement, and you feel light-headed from the intensity of your arousal.

“Fuck me, Jin,” you beg as you careen your hips up for friction.

He curses softly at this, but somehow resists, instead slipping his hand down to cup your mound, “How are you so fucking wet?” he asks in shock as he easily slides a finger inside of you.

You clench down on him at once, moaning at the sensations when he begins curling his finger inside of you. But it’s not enough. Not when you know how big and thick his cock is, and how much more nicely it’d fill you up than his slender fingers. “Seokjin,” you whine, “Please just fuck me.”

He bites down on his plump bottom lip at that, but somehow manages to refuse you with a shake of his head, “No. I gotta stretch you out first, baby. So I don’t hurt you.”

“I can take it, Jin!” you exclaim, practically thrashing underneath him when he slips another finger inside of you, rocking them both up against your g-spot in a way that makes you see stars in your vision.

Jin groans softly as you clench around him as hard as you can, clearly imagining his dick in the place of his fingers… which he could easily have, if he wasn’t so damn stubborn. “N-not yet,” he says, but the tremble of his voice gives him away.

“Please!” you mindlessly beg, “I want your dick so bad, I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now! Please, Jin!”

He falters at that, and when you lean up to bite down at the thick muscle of his neck, Jin’s resolve crumbles entirely. “Fuck, okay,” he breathlessly agrees, and with one last harsh twist of his thumb against your clit, he rises onto his knees to yank at his belt. “Get a condom.”

You’re so distracted by the residues of pleasure that continue to buzz in your system that you can’t process his words for a moment. But when you finally do, you hastily shake your head, horrified by the very thought, “I’m on birth control… And we know each other. You’re clean, right?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Then please cum inside of me, Seokjin,” you purr, wrapping both legs around his waist and rubbing your drenched slit against the front of his crotch.

His eyes darken at that, and in a blink of an eye, he has his jeans and underwear shoved to mid-thigh and his burning hot erection gripped in his hand. You can’t help the gasp that tears from your throat at the sight. He’s bigger than you remember. Not only is he long, but unbelievably wide in girth. You like dick as much as anyone else, but this is almost excessive. For a split second, trepidation breaks through the cloud of arousal. There’s no way he will fit… not without a great deal of pain, at least.

Jin senses your hesitation, and he lowers his head to give you a soft, reassuring kiss, “I told you to give me time to stretch you out,” he says as he gently slides the flat of his cock against your pussy lips.

That snaps you out of it, and you quickly shake your head, absolutely resolute as you spread your thighs for him, “I don’t care. Do it next time. Right now, I just need you to fuck me before I go insane!”

Jin pauses at that, “Next time…?”

You ignore him to lift your hips up, grinding your sopping wet pussy against his dick, “Please just put it in, Jin!”

He chokes back a groan at that and licks his lips, “Fuck, alright.” And his former line of questioning lost through this distraction, he shakily presses the head of his cock against your entrance, biting down hard on his bottom lip when it pops past the barrier, allowing him to sink in a good inch or two before he forces himself to stop. “A-are you okay?” he asks, voice quivering as hard as the arms trying to brace themselves on either side of your head.

It’s a bit uncomfortable having your entrance stretched this wide to accommodate his girth, but it’s not intolerable. So you nod your head and spread your legs wider, allowing him a full two more inches into your delicious heat before you press a hand against his stomach to stop him. “Ow, give me a moment,” you say with a wince.

He jerks his head in a curt nod, trying to be respectful of your needs, even as his hands grip around the sheets tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. In the minute he allows you, he restlessly noses around your neck, darting his tongue out to taste random spots, as though seeking any distraction to keep from shoving the rest of his cock inside of you like he desperately desires.

Taking pity on him, you raise your hips to meet his until you’ve got nearly half of his enormous cock inside of you. Already, it’s a bit more of a stretch than you can handle, and your body automatically attempts to push this foreign item out of you by tightening and squeezing around him. It’s completely instinctive, like a knee-jerk reflex, and you realize too late that it’s the absolute worst thing you could do to a man with his self-control shred to tatters.

The moment he feels your walls clamping around him as tight as a vice, Jin throws his head back with a gasp, then slams the rest of his length inside of you with a single jerk of his hips.

You’re suddenly overwhelmed, filled to the hilt, and you’re sure he’s hit your cervix by the sharp pain that stabs your lower stomach upon impact, but you wouldn’t dare stop him. Even the pain is poignant, the sharpness chased by the sweetest aftertaste of pleasure that has you hungry for more.

“A-are you okay?” he breathlessly asks, even as he begins to surge forward in your heat, hips immediately picking up a rapid pace.

“Yes!” You yell out, “Please don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he curses as he digs his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so good.”

You wrap your legs tighter around his narrow waist in response, silently urging him on as he literally fucks the thoughts out of your mind. As a result, neither of you notice the bang of the front door swinging open until a voice calls out—

“___, I’m home!”

You stiffen at the sound of Lei’s voice and dig your nails into Jin’s back to keep him from moving, “Shit,” you whisper, eyes wide with fear at getting caught, “We need to be quiet!”

Jin’s hot pants fill the air as he struggles to hold himself still inside of your hot pussy when all he wants to do is fuck you into oblivion. He manages exactly ten seconds before his eyes flash dangerously, “Fuck that shit,” and with that, he pulls back on his heels and slams into you so hard that your entire body knocks back into the headboard, and a scream of his name come tearing from the back of your throat before you can help it.

“Seokjin!”

There’s the sound of something clanging noisily as it hits the ground in the other room, followed by Lei’s cursing, “What the fuck…?”

Jin laughs under his breath as he continues to drill into you, delighting in the shrieks and bubbles of noise you helplessly emit. “Fuck, ____,” he moans dramatically, so that his voice can be heard through the thin walls, “You feel so good.”

You bite down on your bottom lip to hold back your laughter as you catch onto his wicked plan, “Oh Jin, please fuck me harder!” you wantonly moan at the top of your lungs, “Harder, baby, harder!”

Jin flashes you a brilliant grin before reaching up to bang his fist against the headboard, the loud thuds echoing throughout the room, “Like this, baby?” he half-yells, even though he has fallen motionless inside of you.

“Fuck yes!” You scream so loudly that even Jin jumps in surprise.

That is the last straw, and a second later, you hear the front door opening, “You guys are fucking disgusting!” Lei shrieks in the shrillest voice imaginable before slamming the door shut.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Jin blinks at you, “Do you think we finally got your revenge?”

“I sure hope so… What more can we do?”

A stunning smile stretches across Jin’s handsome face as he peers down at you, “Want to take this to her bed instead?”

You stare at him with huge eyes for split second, shocked beyond belief. He stares back with a raised eyebrow. Then, the tension breaks and the two of you burst into hysterical laughter.

“This is crazy!” you yelp as tears fill your eyes from how hard you’re laughing. This whole thing is just so ridiculous! Not in a million years did you ever imagine yourself to end up in such a wild situation! You clutch your aching tummy as you continue to be overcome by peals of laughter, and as a result, you don’t notice that Jin has fallen deathly silent until he suddenly grabs you by the hips with a snarl.

The laughter dies in your chest as you take in the sudden intensity of his cold stare, “Jin…?”

He tightens his grip around your hips when you shift around to try to look at him better, “Stop. Fucking. Moving.”

You instantly obey, freezing to ice as the implications of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. Your hearty laughter, with him buried deep inside of you, has probably shaken him up in the most agonizing way possible… Flustered, you nervously chuckle, unintentionally constricting and vibrating around his cock again.

Jin falls on top of you with a tortured groan, hands sinking into the pillow on either side of your head as he helplessly drives his hips forward into your warmth, “I thought I told you to stop moving,” he hisses as he pulls out just to ram himself inside of you, up to the hilt. And just like that, the tension breaks as the desire to cum rushes back, ten-fold.

“Oh my god, Jin,” you groan as he begins to mercilessly pound you into the mattress, “How are you so fucking big?”

He chuckles breathlessly, “I hope you’re not in too much pain in the morning.”

“I’ve already lost feeling in my legs,” you say, even as you wrap them tighter around his lithe waist, “What is this damn elephant trunk of yours?

That makes him laugh again, sweaty face flushing with a tint of pink, “I’m sorry baby girl.”

“Don’t be,” you groan, “Because it’s fucking awesome.”

“I promise I’ll be gentler next time,” he guarantees you through heavy pants, “But right now… I need to cum… fuck, I’m so close, ___.”

“Me too,” you groan, blindly lifting your hips for more. And as a result, you’re too dazed by your need for an orgasm to process the meaning behind his words. This whole situation should be unbearably uncomfortable and weird—you’re fucking your best friend of half a decade, after all. But for some reason, it feels right. Like you were meant to have him buried in your pussy. You’ve never known what empty felt like until now that you’ve finally experienced the ecstasy of complete fullness.

Warmth is bursting at the seams of your legs, coloring your vision a rosy tint, but still, it’s not quite enough. So you slip a hand between your sweaty bodies, seeking that extra boost that will send you off the edge. But before you can rub yourself to completion, a hand knocks yours to the side.

“Let me,” Jin offers, brow wrinkled in concern as he resumes drawing circles around your clit for you. It takes you a second to recognize the emotion on his face as jealousy—over your own touch on your body. It’s so childish and yet endearing that you can’t help but laugh at his illogical reaction. However, your amusement quickly dies in your chest when Jin vindictively digs his thumb into your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, sending you catapulting towards your orgasm so fast, you experience whiplash.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you trash from underneath him, practically bucking him off, “I’m going to cum!”

Jin moans from deep in his chest in response to your warning and leans down to suck a hickey into your neck, “Do it,” he breathlessly commands you, “Cum for me now.”

Like a puppet on a string, your body automatically obeys, and with just one last hard slam of his cock into your fluttering walls, you squeeze your eyes shut and cum all over him. The white-hot pleasure overwhelms you, filling every cell of your body with blinding light such that your mind blanks entirely. Consequently, you’re too caught up in your own pleasure to notice when Jin stiffens above you, his own release triggered by the sudden vice-like clamping of your walls over his dick. He cums noisily, grunting your name and spitting various curses as he snaps his hips back and forth, riding out his orgasm in bliss.

When he’s emptied every last bit of his hot semen inside of you, Jin finally pulls out with a deep sigh of contentment. There’s a few minutes of blessed silence where the two of you simply lie there, nuzzling into each other with soft kisses, and listening to your racing hearts slow. You feel sluggish with exhaustion in the aftermath of your orgasmic bliss. And it feels so nice to have Jin gently mouthing at your neck as he holds you close to his body, both arms looped possessively around your waist like he never wants to let you go. Your eyes feel so heavy that you can’t help but close them, as you reason with yourself that it couldn’t hurt to doze off for just a few minutes…

But of course Jin has to go and ruin the peaceful atmosphere with his big, fat mouth.

“See? I knew you were attracted to me,” he chuckles, voice muffled by your skin.

And just like that, the mood breaks and your jaw drops with indignation, “What the hell?” you angrily shove him off of you.

Bewildered by your sudden shift in mood, Jin nevertheless rolls over onto his back, “Huh? ___, what’s wrong?”

“How are you so fucking arrogant, Kim Seokjin?” you growl as you hunt for your clothes.

“What? No, I’m not!” He protests in confusion, “How is it arrogance when I’m just stating facts? You’re clearly attracted to me! Why else would you have jumped me like some kind of feral animal?!”

Your face grows hot at the unflattering reminder, “Oh my god, shut up, Jin. I must have had a minor stroke or something. I don’t know what else could have possessed me to act in that a way. I’m such a basic bitch!”

“Why are you acting this way? It was good, wasn’t it?” he asks with a touch of defensiveness.

It was more than good. It was amazing. Mind-blowing, really. But there’s no way in hell you’ll boost his ego by letting him know that. “You have a big dick, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean shit.”

He colors at your insult, “And you think you’re all that? All you did was lie down and take it, ___. I might as well have been fucking a ragdoll or something.”

“Oh yeah? Well look at you, asshole. I gave you a handjob and let you fuck my pussy. And what did I get in return? Just a bruised cervix.”

Jin splutters at the complete unfairness of your words, “B-but—what are you even—I tried to reciprocate, but you wouldn’t let me!”

You choose to ignore that, “All I hear are excuses! I seriously can’t believe you, Jin. Were you honestly expecting me to fall to my knees and thank you for blessing me with your dick?”

“Why not?” he hotly shoots back, “You were literally begging me to fuck you earlier. I think you could show a bit more appreciation.”

You heat up further as you remember the shit you said in bed, but you resolutely refuse to allow any embarrassment or weakness to show in front of him, “I don’t know who you think I am, Kim Seokjin. But I’m not one of your fangirls who pray that you’ll look in their direction, and allow you to use them like disposable sex dolls. That won’t work with me. I’m more than that. Jin, you know I am,” you say, hoping that he will agree with your statement.

To your disappointment, he snorts in derision, “Yeah right. You may pretend to be all high and mighty, but I know you’re just as thirsty for this dick as the rest of them. Just admit it, babe.”

Your ego is torn to shreds, yet you make you last attempt, desperate to not let this opportunity slip past you, “I won’t be another one of your playthings, Jin. I deserve better.” There’s a brief moment of silence following your confession. You’ve wanted to say this since you first caught feelings for him all the way back during college, and the fact that you’ve finally gotten this off your chest is both liberating and completely terrifying. You know that your chances are slim at best, but you can’t help but hope against hope.

“Tch, whatever,” is Jin’s gruff response when he finally catches his breath, “Fuck you too.” And with that, he collects his clothes and stomps out of your bedroom.

You sit there for a long time after he leaves, helplessly staring after him. Not even in your wildest dreams or most frightening nightmares could you have ever predicted him reacting in this way. With all of your years of friendship, you actually believed him to care about you. So his blunt, heartless rejection is agonizing to say the least. You had expected an awkward rejection—maybe a half-assed hug and a promise that you’d find someone else at worst. But you have never witnessed such coldness from this man who you had considered to be your best friend.

Suddenly wracked with shivers, you slowly slide under the covers and pull them over your head. The remnants of his cum is still seeping out of you, sliding down your leg to stain your sheets, but you’re too numb to care. You can only lie there and stare up at the ceiling as you fight the urge to cry.

*********************************************************************************

You can’t bring yourself to crawl out of bed the next morning until nearly noon. You know that you look like a hot mess with your hair matted and eyes swollen from crying. All you want to do is grab a glass of water from the kitchen to keep from dehydration, then spend the rest of the day cooped up in your bed.

Unfortunately, as you pour yourself water in the kitchen, Lei hears the commotion from her bedroom, and hurriedly rushes out to intercept you.

“___!” She yells your name, making you cringe.

God, you really need to get your own apartment… You take another long swallow of your water before you slowly put the glass down, “…Yes?”

She places both hands on her hips, clearly upset with you for some reason you can’t fathom, “How dare you pull a stunt like that last night!”

You wince at the volume of her voice, “What do you mean?” you ask, glancing longingly past her to the open door of your bedroom.

“Don’t you even try to play dumb, ___! That stunt you pulled with Seokjin! How could you do that to me?!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Irritation fills you for the first time at her hypocrisy, “Maybe we were a little loud, but so what? You bring home men all the time!”

“That’s not what I’m pissed about!” She says with a childish stomp of her foot, “Are you kidding me right now, ___?!”

“Lei, I really have no idea what you’re trying to say!” you exclaim, frustrated by this situation. Why is she acting up like this when you’re already feeling so miserable?

“You can’t possibly be this dense!” she practically shrieks at you, making you heat with anger, “I don’t care if you hook up with random guys! I care if it’s Kim Seokjin!”

“Why?” You yell back, “What’s so different about that asshole?!”

“What’s so different?” Lei repeats, dumbfounded, “Are you fucking—he’s different because I liked him!”

It takes a few seconds for you to process her unexpected confession. You open your mouth, as though to reply, but your words fail you. Instead you’re left gaping at her like a fish out of water as you try to wrap your mind around this. “Wh-what?” you finally croak out, “Lei, what are you even saying?”

“Don’t even try to play dumb,” she huffs, “I know how close you are to Seokjin. I bet he told you fucking everything! That lying bastard… Can you believe he rejected me by saying that he didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but then he goes and screws around with you just a year later?!”

You’re still reeling. “Hold on,” you say as you dig your fingers into your suddenly aching temples, “I need a moment to process this…”

But Lei ignores you to continue ranting, “Seokjin is an asshole, and we all know this. I’m not surprised. And I don’t care if you’re dating now. That’s fine. I don’t even care that you guys show your sickening PDA in front of me… But to fuck the guy who you knew I liked so noisily when you knew I was home?! Now that’s actually messed up, ___.”

You wince at the accusation, “It’s not like that, Lei. I seriously didn’t know!”

Your roommate sniffs loudly, “Yeah right, bitch. I hope that you’re pleased with yourself,” and with that, she turns dramatically on her heel to march out of the apartment.

“Wait, where are you going?!” You anxiously call after her.

“To fuck Jung Hoseok!” She informs you with a perfect flick of her long curls over a shoulder.

You flinch in shock, “Wait, you’ve fucked him too?”

“I guess he got tired of waiting for you,” she snickers before she slams the door shut.

You stare at the front door for a few seconds, contemplating your next course of action. What you really want to do is chase after your roommate and clarify this huge misunderstanding with her, but it’s clear that she won’t be receptive to anything you’re saying right now. So you decide to put that problem on the backburner. But for the meantime…

Your expression darkens as you pull out your phone to scroll to Jin’s contact. Done with being sad, your tears have all dried up and now you’re just pissed. Time to get some answers from this shady fuckboi.

*********************************************************************************

“Oh,” Jin’s eyes widen at the sight of you on his front door step less than half an hour later, “___... when you said that we needed to talk over the phone earlier, I didn’t realize that you meant in person… and right now.”

“Why? Is not a bad time?”

He shakes his head and moves out of the way, “No, please come in.”

You remove your shoes at the entrance before slowly walking across the vast apartment and taking a careful seat on his expensive leather couch. He lives by himself in a luxury apartment tower in the heart of the city. This is what happens when you don’t make the poor decision of entering a six-year doctoral program and living in near-poverty conditions until you’re thirty. Must be nice…

“How did you even get in here?” Jin asks as he pops open two beers from the fridge and hands you one.

You gratefully accept the icy beverage, “The security guard let me in.”

“What? Why?!”

You shrug as you take a sip, “I dunno. He seems to think that I live with you.”

“Oh… That’s weird.”

“Yeah…”

Things between the two of you are still awkward from the events of last night. All you can think about when you look at him is how good he looked in your bed, drenched in sweat and swollen red lips parted in pleasure. But the heat rising in your blood quickly chills over when you remember the way he had rejected you and crushed your ego mere moments afterwards.

“I had a really interesting discussion with Lei earlier today,” you say as you take another cautious sip of your beer.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise in surprise, “About what?”

“About something that transpired between the two of you last year…”

“Oh…?” He folds his hands awkwardly in his lap, and it might just be your imagination, but does he suddenly look nervous?

You twist in your seat to face him, “Jin… why didn’t you tell me that Lei asked you out?”

His face blanches at the accusation and it seems like he wants to deny it at first, but thinks better of it, “I… I just… I mean, I didn’t see the importance of bringing up something like that…”

“How is it not important?” You snap back, temper rising, “Lei is my roommate. And you’re supposed to be my best friend! How could you have kept such a thing from me?”

He shrugs and drops his gaze to his lap, clearly abashed, “I dunno… It just wasn’t a big deal…”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” You practically yell at him, horrified by his heartlessness, “And to fool around with me in front of her when you knew she liked you?! How could you have done such a thing?!”

His ears are flushed pink at this point, “You’re right. I’m an asshole. I deserve this…”

But his apology still doesn’t explain shit. “You’re not normally like this!” You exclaim in frustration, “Why are you acting all shady and weird?! This isn’t like you!”

He shrugs again, unable to make eye contact at this point even if he wanted to. His broad form is shriveled up with shame, making him look like a little boy caught stealing. “I don’t know…”

That answer isn’t good enough, “Cut the bullshit, Kim Seokjin!” you growl at him, “And just tell me, once and for all: Why didn’t you tell me about Lei?!”

He chews his plush bottom lip for a few seconds as he mulls over his answer, “Because I didn’t want to,” he finally admits.

You’re practically tearing out your hair at this point, “And why’s that?!”

“I just didn’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because I was afraid that you would never date me if you knew!”

The confession hits you like a slap of icy water in the face. It’s so unexpected, so completely disorienting that you can’t even wrap your mind around it. For a moment, you fear that you’ve misunderstood, “…What did you say?”

Jin’s entire face is as red as a tomato with embarrassment, but with enormous courage, he forces himself to venture on, “You’re a loyal person, ___,” he says in a small voice, “I’ve known you for five years now, and I know that you value your friendships above all else… Chicks over dicks, right?” he says with a humorless chuckle, “I knew that if you ever found out about Lei having feelings for me, that I’d be off-limits. And then I’d never have a chance with you!”

Oh god… What is he even saying right now? Could the great Kim Seokjin, the ultimate playboy with girls throwing themselves at his feet, begging for a chance, actually have feelings for you…? This can’t be real. “Jin…” you whisper his name, “Do you… do you like me?”

He winces at your question and buries his burning hot face in his hands, unable to respond except for a stiff nod of his head, “More than that…” he finally manages to choke out.

Your world spins dizzily around you, and you’re grateful that you’re sitting, otherwise you might have fallen over with the way your knees suddenly weaken to mush. “B-but… but why haven’t you ever said anything to me?” You croak, trying to process this bewildering situation, but it still feels like you’re in a dream.

“And get my heart broken?” he snorts, derisive, “No thank you.”

“How are you so positive that I’d reject you?” You ask, looking up at him in confusion.

“Are you serious, ___?” he says in astonishment, “You’re the one who tells me every day how you’re not attracted to me. And that you only see me as a friend.”

You flush at the accuracy of his words, “Yes, but that’s because you’re a fuckboy! All you do is hookup, and you don’t care for relationships.”

“Maybe that’s because I’ve been waiting for the right one.”

That statement takes your breath away, “But… b-but,” you stammer, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why does it matter?” he bitterly counters, “You never reciprocated my feelings, and I’m not good enough for you, so why bother?”

“What?!” you explode at that. You’ve never heard anything so untrue. “What the hell are you talking about?! No one said that!”

“You have!”

Your face scrunches into a deep scowl, “What the fuck? No way! I would never say something like that!”

“Are you kidding me?! ___, you literally just said this to my face last night!”

“I did not! Do you have listening comprehension problems or something? Because there’s no way I would ever—”

“ ‘I deserve better’,” He spits out, quoting you word-for-word, “I get it… And I agree, okay? You do deserve someone better than me. But saying that to me like ten minutes after my dream of getting to touch you finally came true… That was too cruel, ___. Even you have to admit that.”

You’re so taken aback by his rant that you can’t even speak for the next few seconds. All this time… through the past five years of friendship and secret longing… this was all due to a simple misunderstanding? For a frightening moment, you fear that you might cry.

“Jin,” you whisper in a strained tone when you finally find your voice again. He peeks up at you in curiosity. You take a deep breath to stay calm, then firmly place both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look you straight in the eyes. You won’t tolerate any misunderstandings this time. “Jin,” you say his name again, your voice clear and firm this time.

“Yes?” He says, looking up with a glint of hope shining in his eyes.

You squeeze his shoulders, and without breaking eye contact you say in the most serious tone you can muster, “You are the dumbest motherfucker I have ever met.”

His face crumples at once, “What?!”

You ignore his offended expression and tighten your grip in his broad shoulders, “You have no language comprehension skills whatsoever, and I fear that you might be illiterate,” you inform him with a straight face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Jin exclaims, bewildered by your unexpected attack, but offended nonetheless, “I’m smarter than you, at least!”

You shake your head while kindly reaching a hand up to stroke his handsome face, “God must have invested all his time in your face, and forgotten about your brain, you dumb son of a bitch.”

He sits up with indignation, “Look at who can’t even write a simple line of code! I do all your homework for you, you idiot! How dare you call me stupid when you couldn’t survive grad school without my help?! If I’m illiterate, then you’re—”

You cut him off with a rough kiss that momentarily takes his breath away.

Instantly, the anger slides off his face, replaced with something much softer. Jin slowly runs his tongue over his lips and looks up at you with dreamy, half-lidded eyes, “It’s not fair for you to kiss me like that when you want me to shut up… Especially when you know how I feel about you.”

You playfully flick his nose in response, “It’s not my fault that you’re too dumb to realize that I’ve been in love with you since our second year of uni.”

His subsequent reaction is so hilarious that you wished you thought to capture it on film. With his doe eyes bulging, jaw dropping, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, Jin looks like a clown or some kind of slapstick comedian and you can’t help but giggle at his reaction, “You’re so silly.”

That snaps him out of it, “Why am I the one who gets all the blame?!” He exclaims in indignation, “You’re just as dumb as me, if not more! Why would you insist that you weren’t attracted to me?! What did you expect?! For me to try to make a move, thinking that you would never reciprocate? If I’m dumb, then you literally have an IQ of fifty!”

“How am I dumber than you?” you gasp, “You can’t understand spoken language!”

“Yeah? Well you can’t talk!” he shoots back, “ ‘I deserve better.’ How did you expect someone to interpret such a vague statement?! How can you criticize someone for misunderstanding when you can’t even speak properly?!”

His neck is turning red with anger, the veins bulging and his eyes as wide as a frog’s. You open your mouth to berate him, but instead burst into laughter, “Oh my god,” you choke out between semi-hysterical sobs, “How am I in love with such a crazy madman?!”

He pauses at that, “Wait… you’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. If you didn’t have the language comprehension skills of a seven-year-old, you’d realize that when I said ‘I deserve better,’ I meant that I wanted to mean more to you than just a hookup…”

He falls silent at that, mouth forming a perfect “O” of realization. “…That does make a lot more sense…”

“Yup…” And with that, you pull out your phone to rapidly type out a text message.

Jin looks at you with a pout, “Wow, you confessed your feelings not even a minute ago and you’re already on your phone! Is this what our future relationship will look like?!”

You glance up from your phone to shoot him a wry grin, “Calm down, you needy child. I’m just texting my friend who recently got licensed as a neuropsychologist. We’re getting tested for our first date,” you say as you affectionately ruffle his black bangs.

Jin’s eyebrows shoot up with surprise, “Why? You know we’re both clean—we literally had sex yesterday!”

“We’re not getting tested for that,” you chuckle, “I’m setting up an intelligence assessment… So I can prove that my IQ is higher than yours, once and for all!”

His jaw drops at that unexpected turn of things, “You’re insane!”

“Am I?” you shoot back, “Or are you just chicken?”

He shakes his head with reluctant amusement, “Fine. Let’s do this. But how are you going to explain to our future children that you brought their father to take a fucking IQ test to prove a point for their first date…? Whatever,” he says with a scoff, “Please hand me that dictionary on the coffee table.”

“…Future children?” you numbly repeat, even as you follow his instructions. Then you quickly snap yourself out of it, “Wait, what are you doing with that dictionary?”

“Studying up,” is his curt reply, “I have to beat you at the test to prove to you how dumb you really are.”

Gasping with indignation, you quickly drape yourself over his shoulders to ogle at the small print of the book in his hands, “You’re on, asshole!” And with that, you reach over him to rapidly flip through the dictionary, trying to disorient him while soaking in as much information as possible.

This whole situation is ridiculous. It’s unbelievably childish and you should be ashamed of this type of behavior at your age… Yet, when Jin briefly turns his head to press a kiss against your cheek before evilly blocking your view of the dictionary, you can’t help but smile. Because as immature and absurd as this situation may be, for some crazy reason it feels right.

“You’re also going to write Lei a heartfelt apology letter for your behavior,” you say with a little nip at his ear.

He stiffens at the reminder, his neck flushing with embarrassment, “Yes, of course. I’ll go and do it right now.”

But you stop him with a hand on his thigh, “It can wait until the morning,” you inform him, “But for now…” you rub your palm over the bulge forming down his left pant leg. “I promise I’ll be patient this time.”

Jin’s eyes are heavily dilated when he twists around on the couch to look at you, “You better,” he says in a quiet, rumbling voice, “Because this time, I intend on enjoying you.”

Your pulse quickens and liquid heat fills the pit of your stomach. Because for some reason, his words sound like a warning… “Yes, please,” you say in a hushed whisper, eyes as round as saucers.

“And this time, you wouldn’t dare accuse me of not reciprocating,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning across your face, “I’m going to eat you out until you fucking beg me to stop.”

“Oh God,” you croak, arousal dampening your underwear at the very thought.

“No,” he smirks, “Just call me ‘Jin’.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as you slowly process his lame joke. Then—“Oh my god, Jin!” You groan as you shove his face away from yours, “Way to ruin the mood, dumbass!”

“Wait, what? No! Come on, ___, you know that was hot!” he says, lowkey panicking as he tries to reach for him again.

You simply sigh as you situate yourself on the couch with your legs spread, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just start eating me out so I don’t have to listen to your dumb dad jokes any longer.”

“Yah! How dare you?! I’ll have you know that hundreds—no, thousands of girls would have killed to—”

“Shut up and get to work,” you bark with a rough tug of his hair.

Chastened, he instantly drops to his knees, “…Yes ma’am!”

*********************************************************************************

Author’s Note: Please don’t ask me about any sequels or updates! This is solely a one-shot and will not be continued :) But I’d love any feedback!

#jin smut #seokjin smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #jin scenarios #jin scenario #i started writing this during my finals week #and i STILL remember how irritated i was!!!!#guys plz be respectful towards ur roommates!#also i apologize in advance for the crack nonsense in this fic #i cant even explain it myself lmao

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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And So This is Christmas, I Hope You Had Fun (Ravjila) - Sammy Indigo

A/N: Part 2 of the Ravjila Christmas fic from a week or so ago. I do hope everyone is having a safe December, and if you’re in an area with some severe weather, be careful.

And thank you for all the kind words you have been giving me this month. I read them all. All the love xxx

Latrice hadn’t bothered to chastise the three of them on Christmas morning, when she knocked on Manila and Raven’s bedroom door at eight am and opened it to both girls, plus Raja, all cuddled together in Raven’s single bed. Usually when she caught all three of them in the same room after an impromptu sleepover, she gave them a brief lecture about getting to bed early and the safety of knowing where each of them were through the night. However, this Christmas morning, the woman had wished them “Merry Christmas, Babies”, and told them to be downstairs in ten minutes for breakfast.

By the time Manila had managed to drag the other two out of bed, Willam and Danny were already throwing balled up pieces of wrapping paper at each other from across the long dining room table. A particularly aggressive throw from Danny, and a strategic duck from Willam resulted in the wadded up paper hitting Tatiana in the back of the head. She whipped around with a pout and a frown on her face.

“Hey!” She shouted. “Stop it.”

“Sorry!” Danny laughed. “Sorry, Tati.”

Tatiana glared at him. “That’s twice you’ve hit me, now.”

“Then move outta the way.” Willam teased.

Raven smacked him over the head as she walked past to Tatiana. She made an effort to soften the blow slightly. It was Christmas, after all.

“Happy Christmas, kid.” Raven said, hugging Tatiana. “You get anything good?”

“Happy Christmas, Ravie.” Tatiana beamed, holding up a little make up set that Raven suspected was from Claire’s. “Look.” Tatiana said. She leaned into Raven’s side. “It’s got highlighter, and mascara, and even glitters!” She grinned broadly. “I asked for make up, and I got it! This is awesome. Thank you!”

Raven tugged her ponytail, fondly. “Don’t thank me, I didn’t get it for you. Thank the random stranger who feels guilty enough about their life choices to make themselves feel better by spending money on foster kids.”

“Raven.” Latrice warned. “It’s Christmas.”

“Sorry.” Raven kissed Tatiana’s cheek. “That’s so cool. I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, Rave!” Manila called from the other side of the room.

Raven kissed Tatiana’s head and patted her shoulder, leaving her to fawn over her present. She wormed her way through the excitable kids, picking up a paper ball from the table and throwing it back to Danny. He caught it and gave her a thumbs up.

“I’d like to keep my nose intact, this year.” He said, brushing long hair out of his eyes.

“We’ll see.” Raven said with a smirk. He flipped her the bird and she laughed.

As Raven approached them, Raja handed her a cookie, and Manila held up a mug in question.

“Coffee?” She asked. “Or Latrice is doing hot chocolate?”

“Chocolate.” Raven said, taking a bite of the cookie and settling into Raja’s side. “Since it’s Christmas.”

Latrice passed her a mug from behind. “Since it’s Christmas, darling.” She said. “Mini marshmallows but no cream for Raven.” She handed a second mug to Raja. “And cream and sprinkles for my Raja.”

“How do you remember that?” Raven asked. “There’s like fifteen of us.”

“I always remember all of my babies. Don’t matter how old they are.” Latrice said. She nodded to the kids running around the rest of the room. “Don’t think you aren’t special just because you’re one of many. You,” She squeezed Raven’s shoulder. “And you two,” She put a hand on Raja’s arm and Manila’s shoulder, “are special. Are loved. Don’t matter if you leave, don’t matter if you come back, don’t matter if you grow up and forget all about me.” Latrice looked at each of them in turn. “You’re loved by me. Always.”

Manila stepped around Raven to hug Latrice. “I could never forget you. You’re unforgettable.”

“Well, thank you, baby.”

Raja beamed. “And we love you.”

“Thank you.” Raven said. She sipped her hot chocolate. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Latrice asked, baffled as she kept an arm around Manila. “You’ve only been up for twenty minutes. What could you have possibly done? Danny isn’t bleeding yet, is he?”

“No, not today.” Raven said. “I’m just sorry, in general.” She felt Raja take her hand. “I know I’m not the, um, easiest, kid to have around. I just, want to say sorry. I’m sorry I cause so many problems.”

“You don’t cause problems, Raven.”

“I do. And I know that I do.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m here, right? Troublemaker.” She laughed at herself. “Sorry.”

Latrice shook her head. “You’re here, all of you, because of circumstances beyond your control.” She gave them a small sad smile. “If you take nothing else away from me when you leave, take this, each and every one of you is not at fault for the atrocities you have been forced to live through.”

Raven opened her mouth to argue but Latrice held up her hand.

“Nope, she said. I don’t want to hear it. You’re good kids, and if you make the correct choices you’re going to be good adults.”

Willam screamed, and they all looked over to see Danny holding some dripping slime over his face as he pinned him to the ground.

Latrice rolled her eyes. “Even those two.”

Raja giggled. “Danny’s gonna get another bloody nose this year, if he’s not careful.”

Willam kicked out, narrowly missing Danny’s face, laughing like a seal the whole time.

“Oh, Lord.” Latrice shook her head. “Listen, enjoy your day, babies, have fun, make memories.” She gave Manila a squeeze. “I gotta go break this up. Hey! Danny, you leave him. And Willam, stop acting like an ass!”

………………….

Christmas dinner in a group home wasn’t the formal affair Raven had experienced as a young child when they had spent much of the day in Church, then even more of the day visiting relatives whose names she didn’t know. In the group home, she, Raja, and Manila remained in their pyjamas all day, retreating to their room with plates piled high with buffet food, and each with a similar gift bag claiming to be ‘From Santa Claus’.

The gifts were trash, mostly, and Raven felt guilty for even thinking that when she knew somewhere a person had seen Raven’s request for ‘curling tongs’, and unable to purchase them for the provided budget of fifteen dollars, had gone with the next best thing; a set containing a hairbrush, some scrunchies, and some wired foam rollers. It wasn’t the worst gift, Raven supposed.

“Could have been worse.” Raja voiced, long legs stretched over Raven’s lap on the bed, and head resting on Manila’s shoulder. “I mean, I know I asked for jewellery making stuff, and I really meant like pliers, and hoops, and chains, but I don’t mind this.” She held up an almost completed woven bracelet and dangled it by Raven’s face. “A shit ton of embroidery floss and some beads? I can work with that.”

“Yeah.” Manila said. “I think we did good. I got a cool notebook and pens this year. Even came with some coloured pencils.”

“Better than a lunch box.” Raven smirked. “Although I don’t know why you insist on asking for school supplies every year.”

“Everything else is too vague.” She shrugged. “Plus, I like knowing I’ll have stuff for school for a while.”

“Mm.” Raja hummed. “Only thing worse than being the foster kid is being the foster kid who has to borrow pencils from the school.”

“Hey, ‘Nila?” Raven asked. “When I’m rich I’ll buy you all the school supplies you want. Erasers coming out of your fucking ass.”

Manila kicked her. “Shut up. Just ‘cause I like to be prepared.”

“Don’t tease her.” Raja said.

“Sorry. Love you.”

Manila blushed. “Love you, too. I told you Christmas was happy.”

“Yeah, you did.” Raven crawled over the bed until she was snuggled in between Raja and Manila.

Manila cuddled around her, wrapping an arm around her tummy and settling against her chest.

Raven stroked her hair. “Do you…?” She trailed off, closing her eyes. She felt Raja’s arm press into her side. “Do…” Raven exhaled. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No, what?” Raja murmured. “Tell us.”

She took a long breath in, allowing the familiar scent of Manila’s hair settle her. “I was just thinking.” Raven said. “I’m just being stupid. Christmas, you know?”

“Getting sentimental?”

“Not exactly.” Raven said. On feeling Raja’s fingers on her wrist, she opened her eyes.

Raja looked up at her and smiled. “For you.” She tied the finished bracelet around her wrist. “Too tight?”

“S’fine.”

Manila snuggled further into Raven’s chest. “I picked the colours.”

“I love it.” She drew her hand up to her face to inspect the intricate knots. “Thank you. Does that mean I get to pick ‘Nila’s colours?”

“Sure.” Raja said, and then smirked at Raven.

“Yellow.” they both said simultaneously, and burst into peals of laughter.

Rolling her eyes, Manila spoke. “Okay, okay. We get it, I like the colour yellow.”

Raven kissed her, still huffing out puffs of laughter. “Sorry.” She kissed her again, this time a little more reverently. “I’m sorry, ‘Nils.”

Manila waved her off. “Nah, you guys are right, I do like yellow. Reminds me of the sun.”

“You’re so cute.”

She blushed and ducked her face into Raven’s chest. “Snuggle me.” She said, muffled in Raven’s shirt.

The three of them, tired, full of food, warm, and happy, cuddled together in the tiny single bed. Raja’s long limbs encompassed the other two, and Raven pressed her lips to the back on Manila’s ear. The bass from the music downstairs was soothing rather than irritating, and even when Raven heard Willam’s obnoxious laughter in the hall, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad.

“Life,” Raja said, “it’s not too shitty, is it?”

“Not here.” Manila answered quickly. “With you.”

“Do,” Raven began, again, “um, do you guys…?”

“Ask us.” Raja said. She rubbed circles into the warm skin under Raven’s pyjama top.

“Do you guys ever think about before?”

Neither of them even had to ask what ‘before’ was. For foster kids, or for the three of them, at least, the ‘before’ was all the same. Before someone took them away, Raven used to say. But Raja had always said before someone saved her. Raven preferred that. It was truer.

Manila squeezed Raven’s hand, fingers rubbing the woven bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t think about it as much.” She said. “I used to think about them all the time.” Of the three of them, Manila had been the oldest when she had been removed from her family. She was also the only one of them who still had both of her parents out there, alive, in the world, and knew where they were. “I thought about them, today, though.” She said, quietly. “I can’t imagine Christmas in prison is very nice.”

“They don’t deserve a nice Christmas.” Raja said.

Manila didn’t reply. Raven kissed her neck.

Raja took a long breath, calming her tone. “I take it you’ve been thinking about your family, Rave?”

“A bit.” She said. “Not much. Just…” Raven sighed. “Just wondering, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Raven hadn’t seen her dad since she was removed from his care, her mother had never, as far as Raven was aware, been in the picture. But she had brothers and sisters, she knew she did, could remember faces and names, and yet had no way of knowing exactly how they were, where they were. She was seven the last time she had seen any of them. There could be more kids, now, for all she knew. Maybe they were being dragged around by her father to visit relatives that they didn’t know the names of. Raven shivered.

Raja cuddled her closer.

“Do you think about your mom?” Raven asked her.

“No.” Raja said, and the brutal honesty in her tone made Raven want to cry for her. “Sometimes I dream about her. But no. I don’t think about her. At least not on purpose.”

“Good.” Manila muttered. “I hate it when you have nightmares.”

“I’m not letting her ruin my future. Now when she ruined my past.” Raja paused, and then chuckled. “I sound like my therapist.”

“And mine.” Raven said.

“And mine.” Manila added.

The three of them began to laugh. Raven giggled into the back of Manila’s shirt, wiping the tears she hadn’t noticed on her cheeks into the fabric.

“I’m so fucking glad I have you both.” She said.

“Who else would have you?” Raja said and Manila kicked her. “I’m kidding.” She put a hand on Raven’s chin to pull her face to hers, kissing her gently. “Don’t you ever fucking dare leave us. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise.” Manila said. “Please promise, Raven.”

“I promise.” She took a shuddering breath, and then coughed to cover it. “We got each other, ‘till the end, right?”

“Right.”

“Forever.” Manila said. “However long forever is.”

Raven grinned. “Here’s to another hundred Christmases with each other.”

Raja nodded. “Happy Christmases.”

Manila beamed. “Happy Christmas.”

“I love you.”

#sammy indigo #25 holiday fics #ravjila #fluff #au #raja gemini #raven #manila luzon #latrice royale #rpdr fanfiction #submission #poly

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honeyrose-tea · 6 years ago

Note

all the risky and really asks. -🌙

ok you asked for it, but be prepared, I'm hella boring lol

1. “@” people you want to be friends with

I know this is lame but I don't really have anyone? maybe on my old blog, but on this one I mostly just have old mutuals who I already consider myself friends with.

2. screenshot the tabs you have open

I won't do that to my camera roll bc there are at least 30 BUT I'll give you the highlights:

a hilarious music video by a boy from school, filmed in our dorm (and no, there's no context, he just made this for fun): https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qaqk3PmQv20

youtube

this ring I want (which I can't afford lmao): https://www.dior.com/en_us/products/couture-JROC95024_0000-rose-dior-pre-catelan-ring-small-model-in-18k-pink-gold-and-amethyst

this wikipedia article: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Controversies_about_the_word_%22niggardly%22

multiple articles about sharks (I'm obsessed with sharks)

a lot of me searching for memes or vines which I just forgot to close lol

recipes for berry crisp (Dan's fav dessert), watermelon sorbet (one of dad's fav desserts), and creme brulee (something I wanna make)

reddit nosleeep

me trying (and failing) to find a free pdf of the DSM (manual for diagnosing mental disorders)

me trying to identify a bird from my backyard

the coca cola freestyle machine locator (I'm addicted to creme soda with peach flavoring)

this article: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.theodysseyonline.com/10-chris-evans-movies-ranked-by-hotness.ampe

and finally, a tab of me searching for where to buy the unedited version of Anne Frank's diary (she was bi!!!)

3. the last text you sent to someone?

"lol" to my mom... srry I'm not more fun

4. do you have a nsfw blog?

I do not

5. i dare you to _____

can you give me a truth instead? lmao

6. screenshot the first page of your search history

I use an incognito browser...

7. tell an embarrassing memory or story

one time I walked into the mens room behind my dad bc I was so zoned out I forgot I couldn't follow him everywhere

8. how often do you take showers?

depends. if I've worked outside or something then I definitely take one right after. but on a daily basis? probably once a day or every other day, if I'm home. if I'm at school I try to take one at home on Sunday, one at school midweek (possibly two), and then one as soon as I get back on Friday. I hate showering at school bc we have community bathrooms and you have to wear flip flops. it's gross

9. what was your first blog URL?

I honestly don't remember my first one but I know at one point toward the beginning I was called "frozenfloralpolaroids"

10. if you draw or write, show some of your really old work

I don't draw and I don't write recreationally, the only things I can think of are some pieces I wrote for school projects, which I probably don't have on hand. once again sorry I'm lame lol

1. if you had to hug anyone who would you hug

uhhhhh probably my sweet internet friend who we'll call M. he needs a hug and I feel like he would give good ones:)

2. whats your favorite flavor of ice cream?

depends on the mood! if I'm feeling fruity I'll go for like a cherry cordial or a strawberry milkshake or maybe even a fruit sorbet! but if it's like a rich desserty mood I like anything with peanut butter or caramel or chocolate (or all three!). tldr; if you give me ice cream I will eat it

3. whats your favorite color?

idk? being LGBTQ+ I feel like I have some license to just say "the rainbow" but. for the sake of answering, I guess purple. I like purple a lot.

4. if you have pets, what are their names?

my dog that passed a year or so ago was named Haley, after Haley's comet. we called her a beagle/hound mix but she was really just a mutt. I loved her a lot:(

my other dog (still living) is my best friend. her name is Izzy and she's a golden retriever, though I'm convinced she's actually an angel

I have 18 chickens! here are the five who are still remaining from our first flock:

Annalise/Anna, a buff orpington (golden colored) who's big and floofy. she's Loud and likes to let us know she's laid an egg by singing an "egg song", which basically means clucking loud enough that we can hear her inside our house

Rosie/Rosalinda/Rosa, a rhode island red (a dark auburn color) who is debatably the alpha. she's a people-lover, and the best one to let kids hold as she's very calm. she'll fall asleep in my arms. but don't let that trick you, she's still bossy with the other chickens and aggressive when it comes to food (but aren't we all?)

Marsha, a black chicken (can't think of the breed rn) who is hearty and medium-sized. she's calm and demure and she has pretty brown eyes:)

Elsie and Stella, easter egg chickens (smaller breed that lays pastel green eggs) who are named after my maternal grandmother and great-grandmother. their names fit the way their namesakes were- Elsie is a lighter brown color and quite shy and sweet, Stella is skinny and darker and mean. not mean, really, but she has taken to bullying our new chickens which we've been trying to get her to stop doing

now for the new babies! (who are almost adults now!)

Rory and Lorelai, barred rocks (black and white striped) who are named after the Gilmore Girls characters

Violet and Iris, lavender orpingtons (gray with a hint of purple) who are both very sweet and named after their color, of course

Molly and Edith, two more easter egg chickens who are named after two more of my ancestors!

Clarice and Clover, buff orpingtons (like Anna) who are both super shy and precious (unlike Anna)

Ora and Georgetta. Ora is a golden-laced wyandotte while Georgetta is silver-laced (basically, they're dark-colored except for the ends of their feathers, which have a colored detailing. also come in blue and red varieties). they're named after two of the old ladies at our former church

Josephine/Josie and Penelope/Penny, new hampshire reds (a little lighter than Rosie but same idea) who are both so cute. they have a bit of black in their tail feathers and are just so so pretty:)))

finally, our special girl Buttercup! Buttercup was an extra because we ordered our babies as hatchlings from an online store, and they said we could have an extra for free! Buttercup is pure white and she is such a chracter. she likes roosting up really high and has fun doing things she knows she's Not Supposed To Do. she's funny and I love her

5. do you like a warm bed or a cold bed?

cold! I lovvvve sleeping in the cold. I like having the room super cold and then cuddling up under my blankets bc........... I'm baby

6. whats a really good memory you have?

strangely, the first thing that popped into my head was sitting on a rooftop with T on a really nice night. I'm not sure why, as I don't think about him that often, but I guess that goes to show that you can still love the memories even if you don't love the person anymore

7. favorite song you cant stop listening to?

Sweet Life by Frank Ocean, and the entire EP "This Thing Called Living" by Eloise

8. do you drink water with or without ice in it?

with ice, unless it's a bottle from the fridge. I love cold water though, and will very rarely drink room temp

9. do you like to use correct grammar when you type or just type all lowercase?

both? I don't capitalize the beginnings of sentences, but I do capitalize proper nouns and use correct punctuation and all that. I just feel like it looks too stuffy when there's all those capital letters

10. whats something thats made you laugh recently?

I was at a restaurant tonight where the servers sing throughout the night (they're all trying to make it on Broadway) and one guy sang a love song directly to this girl and threw confetti on her, which was funny. other than that probably just like. memes

#pen pal

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years ago

Text

Playing Man Down

It’s the dumbest idea in the history of all ideas.

There is no idea that has been more dumb than this one. And yet...Emma’s stubborn and determined and really goddamn good at playing lacrosse. So she’s going to prove it. To everyone. To her friends and her ex-boyfriend and the unfairly attractive guy she just so happens to be sharing a room with.

Or: a lacrosse themed She’s the Man AU

Rating: Like a low M. Swearing. Kissing. Lacrosse slashing. Word Count: Probably way too many, that’s why it’s two chapters. AN: Several months ago I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week and in an attempt to reclaim some of my positivity I asked the internet for CS prompts. One of them was a She’s the Man AU, which let’s be honest, is a classic of our time, but I’d just written an Out of the Frying Pan soccer story, so they play lacrosse instead. Because, let’s also be honest, Killian Jones is a for realz lax bro name. Also I love lacrosse a lot. I’m bringing this back because it never got posted on its own and because I’ve been covering a lot of lacrosse recently and for no other reason than I really enjoyed writing this.

Also on Ao3 where there are two chapters because words and an entire never-ending list of prompts that I am always open to add onto.

It’s hot.

She remembers that.

She doesn’t remember much else. It all seems to happen in a blur – anger clouding her vision and her muscles and Emma’s vaguely aware of making some kind of strangled sound, but she can barely hear it over the rushing in her ears and then she’s moving and her hands are moving and it’s not exactly good form, a fact Neal is quick to point out, but she’s fueled solely on frustration and fury and, possibly, global warming.

Because it is so goddamn fucking hot.

She punches him and smacks at his shoulder and then tries to check him, without a stick in her hand and she wishes she had a stick in her hand because she’d slash him in the knees. That’s not even the right term.

Neal would point that out as well.

Because, she’s suddenly realized, Neal Cassidy is a goddamn fucking asshole.

“This is something we’ve known for years,” Ruby mutters after Emma’s just recounted the story again and her words are starting to slur together the more she repeats herself. Or the more alcohol she drinks.

She’s had a considerable amount of alcohol to drink.

“Hey,” Elsa chastises softly, but it doesn’t really sound all that threatening when the three letters all sound like one, enormous sound and Emma’s head is starting to pound. Mary Margaret is an incredibly heavy weight against her side, resting on Emma’s shoulder with an arm draped over her legs and a faint hint of tequila smell just wafting through the air. “Don’t do that,” Elsa continues. “Now is not the time for I told you so’s.”

She blinks once when she realizes she’s just mumbled a word that isn’t actually a word and if Emma still weren’t so incredibly pissed off she’d probably laugh. She can’t laugh with Mary Margaret more or less lying on top of her.

Elsa mouths so’s again, like she’s testing it on her tongue and Ruby makes some kind of God-awful noise that might be a laugh, but just sounds like a cackle. It hurts Emma’s head. And her entire body.

She’s fairly certain she dislocated her middle finger earlier.

“Here,” Graham says, appearing out of nowhere with an actual tray in one hand and an understanding smile on his face. “You need to hydrate. Desperately.”

He sinks onto the edge of the coffee table Emma’s feet are propped up on, resting the tray on his knee and nodding towards the glasses of water, an unspoken command to take them and hydrate that Emma knows she should listen to, but absolutely does not because even the idea of consuming any sort of liquid that isn’t tequila seems like the worst idea in the history of the world.

Or maybe that was beating up her boyfriend earlier that afternoon.

Ex-boyfriend. Decidedly ex. Happily ex. Absolutely.

“I need another drink, Humbert,” Emma announces, leaning forward and that’s an even worse idea. The whole room spins with her and Mary Margaret makes some contradictory noise in the back of her throat.

Graham levels her with a knowing stare – some kind of look that seems to scream you are an adult, act like one, but Emma just huffs and sticks her tongue out and Ruby cackles again.

It’s all Neal’s fault, really. And she could do it. She absolutely could do it. She could…

“Emma,” Graham says, snapping her out of her thoughts before she can stand up and try to find Neal so she can punch him in the face again. “Stop thinking about it. It’s not going to change anything. And it’s not even a good gig.”

She growls, slinking lower into the couch until one of her legs falls off its perch on the coffee table. “It’s absolutely a good gig,” Emma argues and they’re all starting to repeat themselves again. “And I could totally do it.” “I’m not questioning that.” “No?” “No.” “Seems like it.” “I’m not.”

“Yuh huh.”

Graham scowls, grabbing a glass off the tray and pushing it into Emma’s hand until she doesn’t have any choice but to actually accept it. She’d dump water on Mary Margaret’s head otherwise.

“Ok,” Ruby announces, waving her hands through the air and barely managing to keep her balance on the seat she’d claimed as hers as soon as Emma told the story the first time. “Go over it one more time.” Emma’s not sure who makes the loudest noise – it might be her – but Ruby just glares and it’s not even midnight yet and she’s lost track of the number of drinks she’s had and she kind of feels bad for Graham because he absolutely did not agree to be everyone’s keeper that night.

“Fine,” Emma sighs. “The story, as I have told sixteen-thousand times already is that the bonds business I was working at went under unexpectedly without much notice and, now, if I want to keep this very lovely apartment we all seem intent on destroying tonight, then I need a job for the summer.” “And you decided to ask Neal about a job?” Ruby asks. Emma rolls her eyes. They’ve been over this, at least, twelve-thousand times. “Why?” “They’re dating,” Elsa says reasonably and Emma’s definitely the one who makes noise that time. “Were,” she corrects. “Were dating. That’s not a thing anymore. That is the opposite of a thing. What’s the opposite of a thing?” “I think those exact words.” Emma’s eyes are going to get stuck rolled into the back of her head. She tries not to think about that – her tequila-filled stomach can’t quite cope with that. “Anyway,” she continues, tracing absentminded patterns on Mary Margaret’s back. “He’s got that summer thing with Regina Mills’ clinic or whatever and there are rich kids to teach lacrosse to and I figured he’d be all in on us getting to spend the summer together and playing and…” And it didn’t work.

Or, well, more to the point, Neal was positive it wouldn’t work.

Emma wasn’t sure it was a particularly distinct difference, but it seemed to be the crux of the problem. She’d heard of the Mills clinic for years – teammates who’d signed up to coach during the summer and it’d be hot, but the pay was good and the kids were, probably, talented if not a little pretentious because they were spending their summer at a lacrosse clinic, but she wouldn’t have to worry about room and board and, well, she was a former All-American. She’d set records at UMass for God’s sake.

Neal didn’t seem all that impressed by it.

“It just wouldn’t work, Em,” he said, like she was supposed to accept that answer. She didn’t. She kept pushing and asking and finally he just sighed dramatically and rolled his whole head and told her what he was really thinking. “It won’t work because you’re a girl and girl’s lacrosse is...well, it’s not real lacrosse is it? There’s not even any checking. You get fouled for checking. What are you going to teach these kids, Em?”

Her memories got kind of hazy after that, just flashes of red that might have been a visible representation of the questionable heat wave they’d had in the last few days, but also might have just been her anger and Emma didn’t listen to anymore explanations before she started throwing fists and absolutely against-the-rules checks.

“So, the short version, since I’m not repeating myself anymore,” Emma says. “Is that he thinks I couldn’t work at this clinic because I am a girl and girls can’t play lacrosse and don’t know how to check, which is just...insane, right Humbert?” Graham blinks once, as if he’s surprised to be involved in the conversation, and they’re going to have to buy him a ridiculous amount of replacement tequila for dealing with all of them for most of the night.

“Of course, Em,” he promises with a smile and Emma’s suddenly thrown several years into the past with memories of meeting Graham Humbert at forced athletic icebreakers freshman year. He’d set records at UMass too – assists in a single-season their junior year and the guy’s team was awful, but it was early Division I years and Humbert never complained.

He never did anything wrong.

They asked him to coach at the clinic weeks ago.

“Plus,” Ruby adds, still wobbling slightly until Graham pushes a glass of water in her hands as well. “What Cassidy failed to realize was that you’ve got all that pent-up aggression stored from years of not being allowed to check anyone and go along with all those weird restart rules.” “You’ve been holding in your feelings about women’s lacrosse for awhile haven’t you?” Elsa asks knowingly, one eyebrow lifted and Ruby shrugs in response.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why are the rules different? They aren’t in soccer.” Mary Margaret makes another noise – another age-old argument and none of them should really be friends. It doesn’t make any sense at all.

Emma was never sure how she stumbled into lacrosse, but for a kid who spent most of her childhood shipped around the country, a sport that allowed her to, literally, carry a stick and hit people had its appeal. Until she got to high school and learned the rules for her brand of lacrosse and it took an entire season of penalty minutes and unreleasable fouls to change her approach.

It worked out – UMass came calling the spring of her junior year and she didn’t have many other offers, certainly nothing else Division I, and it was impossible to turn down a free ride. There was a lacrosse joke in there somewhere.

And the irony that she was about to play for a team called the Minutemen when she’d spent most of her career arguing against girls rules was not lost on Emma.

It was the first thing Ruby had talked about when they, quite literally, ran into each other at another required athletic event. “This is the worst isn’t it,” Ruby grumbled and Emma nodded and, well, that was that.

They kept talking and kept bashing the ancient, vaguely patriarchal tendencies of the NCAA and Emma met Mary Margaret three weeks later. She’d grown up with Ruby in some tiny town in Maine and she was the living, breathing embodiment of all things sweet, a physical therapy major who wanted to work with athletes eventually – or so Ruby told Emma. And, for awhile, Emma believed her until she went to one of Ruby’s soccer games with Mary Margaret who seemed to lose any semblance of sweet as soon as a tackle wasn’t called and, well, that was that.

Again.

Elsa joined the fray second semester, a slightly frantic request from the student newspaper to interview Emma before the start of the season and she started by explaining that she knew nothing about lacrosse and Emma smiled and answered questions anyway and Ruby and Mary Margaret took her out for drinks when the story ran.

The four of them were some kind of collective unit from there on out – anyone needing to get in touch with all of them only having to text one of them and the message would, eventually, get passed along and they were all in the stands when Emma scored twice in the A-10 championship their senior year.

Graham drove them to the regional finals on Long Island and they were some kind of weird, five-person pretzel of limbs and tears when the Minutemen lost.

And not much had changed since graduation – even if athletic careers were some kind of distant memory now. Until Emma’s very steady, very well-paying job all but disappeared in front of her and she thought, for a moment, of past glory and championship goals and, for the first time in a very long time, she wanted to check something.

She could absolutely work at this clinic. Even with different rules.

“It’s not really going to be fun,” Graham says and Emma dimly wonders if they’re all following a conversational schedule she wasn’t aware of, because she’s fairly positive they’ve done this already as well. “It’s going to be like school all over again and working those summer camps with screaming kids.” “Except these screaming kids have really rich parents,” Elsa adds. Graham glares at her. “I’m just saying. This is a little different than kids coming for a couple of hours a day in Amherst.”

“Exactly,” Emma shouts, like that’s just proved her point. “And I don’t even really care about the kids. It’s not...well that sounds shitty, but this is not about that.” Graham lifts his eyebrows. “What is it about then?” “Screwing over Neal Cassidy.” “Fucking finally,” Ruby mumbles, but Emma’s eyes don’t leave Graham’s and his lips twist in thought. Or like he’s trying to mind-meld with her and force her to give up on whatever path of revenge she’s already halfway down.

They stay that way for what feels like several eternities until Mary Margaret makes some kind of inhuman noise, leaping away from Emma like she’s just contracted a deadly plague. “Jeez, M’s,” Emma mumbles, taking a gulp of water before she remembers that it’s water and not tequila. “What’s your deal right now?” “I’ve just had an absolutely incredible idea,” Mary Margaret shouts and the whole room collectively winces at the volume of her voice. “Plus, if I’m there to do the training stuff, then...oh, shit this could work.” Emma nearly falls over, which is impressive since she’s sitting down, but she’s never heard Mary Margaret talk like that. It’s probably the tequila. “I mean it’s insane, but...this could work. I think. ”

“You think?”

Mary Margaret nods enthusiastically. “Ok, Humbert, what time do you have to be there next week…” It is absolutely the most insane idea in the history of ideas. It’s as if Galileo and Thomas Edison and, like, someone else who invented something all got together and, collectively, decided to try and come up with the most insane idea in the history of ideas just to spite all those people who didn’t believe in them before, but Mary Margaret keeps talking and Ruby keeps pouring drinks and by the end of the night it almost makes sense.

Which is how Emma finds herself on the campus of goddamn Towson University four days later with a bag in one hand and a stick in the other, trying to keep her breathing level when she tells a slightly overwhelmed looking woman at a fold-up desk “Hi, my name is Graham Humbert, I’m one of the coaches for the clinic.”

The woman behind the desk – there’s a name on a sticker that Emma can only half read, but might be Aurora – nods distractedly, flipping through a small stack of paperwork and handing Emma a folder with a string of instructions she’s only half listening to.

“You’re with Jones and Scarlet,” she says, like those words have actual meaning. “So, uh, there’s an elevator or stairs and it’s the sixth floor and room...whatever it says on your folder. There’s keys in there, but you’ll have to go get an actual ID if you want to ever eat while you’re here. Lunch starts serving in a couple of hours and then there’s meet and greets with all the kids later on tonight.” Aurora lifts her head when Emma doesn’t immediately respond and she feels her eyes go wide when the woman actually meets her gaze.

They cut her hair – or, rather, Mary Margaret cut her hair – and it was definitely a look, but both Ruby and Elsa promised it fell somewhere in the realm of hipster, but masculine when she actually put a wig on and left that morning and it was some kind of miracle Emma could even breathe because she’d wrapped her boobs up so tight she wasn’t entirely convinced her ribs weren’t going to sustain permanent damage.

She doesn’t really look...like a guy, but she doesn’t really look like her either and, as a very drunk Mary Margaret was quick to point out, no one at this clinic was going to know what Graham Humbert actually looked like.

Except Regina Mills. Who’d hired Graham. But he promised she had no plans of being there and as long as Neal didn’t recognize her then none of it mattered.

At least that’s what Emma kept telling herself while she spent nearly eight hours in her ancient VW bug that morning.

“We all good?” she asks, doing her best to sound like a guy. It doesn’t work. At all. Her voice just sounds scratchy and fake and Aurora tilts her head in confusion. “I, uh...just want to make sure my equipment’s all set before we do anything later tonight.” Aurora quirks an eyebrow. “There are just icebreakers tonight.”

“Right, right, right, I absolutely knew that. Because you just told me that. And I read the schedule already. Several times. When I got hired to be here.” Aurora nods again and Emma’s fairly certain her ribs have started to crack. “Alright, well, I’m going to….”

She doesn’t finish, just hitches her bag further up her shoulder and practically sprints up the first flight of stairs she can find, not willing to wait for an elevator. There’s a stitch in her side by the time she reaches the fourth landing and this was a mistake.

In some kind of grand, sweeping way.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathes and she’s not out of shape. She runs down criminals. She can do the same thing with a stick in her hand and a ball in her stick and she’s suddenly so full of determination and fury that she’s almost surprised she doesn’t just levitate to her room with Jones and Scarlet, whoever they are.

It'll be fine.

Except that one thing.

It’s the one part of the plan even Mary Margaret hadn’t quite figured out.

“What happens when you have to shower?” Graham asked, tugging on the bottom of Mary Margaret’s shirt until she collapsed into a heap on their living room floor. “These are guys, Em. You can’t just...take half an hour in the shower every morning.” “Ok, first of all, that’s rude and stereotyping,” Emma argued. “And I know how to take quick showers. I probably set records at Amherst with that. All that foster home experience, you get in and get out before someone flushes the toilet or the house runs out of hot water. This is fine.” “And what about the rest of it? You’re going to have to, you know, make it look like you’re a guy.” “I’m not expecting an audience while I shower.” “I’m just saying.” “Are you not in on this? You said you were in on this. This is all so I can show up Neal and then, you know, ruin his lacrosse life or something.” “You’re a picture of maturity,” Graham sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face and he couldn’t argue with the combined, very drunk force of four UMass grads with a plan. “And, yeah, I’m all in on this. Of course.”

It was going to be fine.

So she has roommates. Emma’s always had roommates. Granted, they’ve always been girls and she’s never actually had to tape her boobs down just to try and stay under some kind of metaphorical radar, but this isn’t about that.

This is about fucking over Neal and it is...easily the most insane idea she’s ever had.

She’s frozen in front room 619, resting most of her weight on her stick and trying to psych herself up again when the door swings open and oh, well, fuck. God fucking fuck.

She’s going to kill Humbert. He should have told her.

He should have warned her...or something. Anything. He should have cut whatever wires in her bug made her bug capable of driving her from Boston to Baltimore because then Emma wouldn’t be standing stock still in the middle of a hallway at goddamn Towson University, breathing through her mouth while trying to will her heart rate to slow down.

The guy widens his eyes – all blue and vaguely amused and he’s got a Maryland t-shirt on. His hair’s nearly as long as Emma’s is, even after it’s been cut, and there’s a piece falling across his forehead that is just absolutely stupid because it’s obvious he’s not trying at all, just casual confidence and certainty and his ribs probably aren’t cracking.

Because he’s a guy.

He is a guy.

“Can I help you?” he asks, resting against the side of the open door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that only serves to scrunch up the Maryland state logo emblazoned on his shirt.

Emma nods slowly, trying to force her brain to catch up to the moment at hand and the guy’s eyes flit towards the stick in her hand. “Are you the third, then?” he continues and Emma’s fairly convinced he’s just started speaking in tongues.

“I have no idea what that means,” she says and the guy just smiles even wider. His eyebrows are stupid. Emma takes a deep breath, hitting herself in the hip with her own bag when she pushes her right hand in front of her. “Humbert,” she says and it almost sounds like the truth. “Graham Humbert. UMass ‘10.” The guy doesn't blink, just keeps staring at her outstretched hand and maybe she shouldn’t have done that because she definitely doesn’t look like she’s got guy’s hands. It takes, exactly, two seconds to realize that is not the issue.

He rocks back on his heels, twisting his lower lip between his teeth – which is decidedly distracting for absolutely all the wrong reasons – and tilts his head when he holds his left arm out towards her.

Oh.

And it all clicks very suddenly.

Emma is absolutely going to kill Graham.

She can’t quite believe she didn’t recognize him – but it’s been years since that national championship run and, really, the Maryland t-shirt threw her off. “You didn’t go to Maryland,” Emma accuses and Killian Jones’ eyebrows fly up his forehead. She thinks he maybe, almost, smiles at her too, but his left arm is still hanging in the space between them and, well, there isn’t a hand to shake there.

It wasn’t national news – no one cares about lacrosse that much – but she’d heard the story and Graham thought it was tragic and Emma thought it was absolutely fucking unfair because Killian Jones had been good, great, fantastic, some kind of faceoff specialist that they’d probably put in a hall of fame if lacrosse was a sport people actually cared about.

He won something like ninety percent at the ‘x’ when he was a senior and no one had really even heard of Monmouth before, but suddenly they were getting votes in national polls and winning games and Killian Jones kept getting the ball to his attackers and they kept scoring goals and, suddenly, they were beating Hopkins in the national championship game.

He won nearly every postseason award possible and he couldn’t actually go to the Tewaaraton ceremony because he’d been too busy playing in a national final and it was some kind of impossible run that even Sports Illustrated acknowledged once. And then it was tragic and fucking unfair and it wasn’t like he could do much more than coach after he graduated, but he was going to, or so the rumors suggested, until there’d been an accident and it was impossible to win a faceoff with one hand.

“That’s true,” Killian says, eyeing her cautiously and they were both still frozen in the doorway. “But I’ve been doing ops at Maryland for a season and a half now, so, you know, they give you free stuff.” “Is that not an NCAA violation?” “I’m not an actual student-athlete anymore.” Emma hums – a mistake because she sounds so much like her, she’s positive Killian can see through her clothes or something. Thinking that is also a mistake. There’s more talking from inside the room and another set of footsteps and Emma’s eyes dart for an escape route. There isn’t one.

“Is this the third, then?” another guy asks, pushing Killian out of the way and leaning towards Emma with an expectant look on his face.

Killian nods, eyes still tracing over Emma and she tries to stand up taller. She hits herself with her bag again. “Yeah,” Killian answers. “Humbert comma Graham. UMass class of 2010, apparently.” “UMass has lacrosse?”

“We’ve had lacrosse for nearly a decade,” Emma snaps. Killian grins. “It was just...shitty when they...I mean, I...when I started playing. But the women’s side won the A-10 just a couple seasons after we moved up.” “Impressive,” other guy mumbles in a way that makes it sound the exact opposite. Emma glares at him and she can’t start beating up her roommates before they even get to icebreakers.

Killian smiles wider. “Alright, alright,” he says, licking his lips and elbowing other guy in the ribs. That almost puts them all on even footing. “Humbert, class of 2010, this is Scarlet, comma Will, class of absolute asshole and a former goalie at Monmouth.” “And you were making fun of my program,” Emma seethes, well aware that she doesn’t have a leg or a stick to stand on. They won a national championship. “What kind of competition you dealing with in the MAAC?” Scarlet almost looks impressed. “Probably not quite as good as whatever Division II you started out as.” “God,” Killian sighs, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling and pushing Will back into the room. “Shut up, Scarlet. Although I really don’t think you can start trash talking this early, Humbert,” he adds. “There’s rules about trashing-talking form.” “Are there?” Emma asks and Killian grins, lower lip stuck out slightly when he nods. “Absolutely. Although I’m not entirely sure what form goes along with further introductions since you seem to know where I went to school already and, based on your staring issue, I’d say the rest of my very public history, so, uh...if you’re good, then we’re going to get some food.” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, just nods toward Scarlet who makes sure to glare at Emma when he walks by, leading with his shoulder and fucking hell this is a disaster. “See you on the field later, Humbert,” Killian calls over his shoulder when there a few feet away and Emma throws her bag into the room as soon as she hears his footsteps retreat.

She doesn’t leave the room until her stomach actually starts making noises that don’t quite sound human anymore, but downing dining hall food like she’s being timed doesn’t do much to help the state of her ribs and by the time she gets to icebreakers, she’s treading some very thin metaphorical ice.

“This is a goddamn disaster,” Emma hisses, leaning against the railing behind the end zone of the football stadium they were staging some sort of get to know you event on. Mary Margaret shoots her a look, one she should probably have patented by now and Emma tries not to sigh too loudly. “It is,” she continues. “I should just...I don’t know, just go or something before this dissolves into a criminal offense.” “You can’t get charged with anything when you have Graham’s permission,” Mary Margaret argues. “At least, I don’t think so. And, you know, you guys are splitting all these work checks, so it’s totally legit. Absolutely. For sure.” “You really shouldn’t have kept talking M’s.” Mary Margaret just levels her with that look again and Emma’s not really paying attention to any of the kids or the clinic or whatever it is Neal is doing with a group of guys who he seems to already be well acquainted with. “And,” Mary Margaret continues. “There is a plan. It’s a good plan. It’s not like Neal ever met Graham. He has no idea who you are. You really don’t even look like you right now.” “You’re only saying that because you're the one who cut my hair,” Emma reasons, but Mary Margaret just waves a dismissive hand in her face.

“I’m not. I’m saying that because you can do this and because…”

She trails off, eyes darting up when someone walks towards them and Emma tries not to shake her. Instead, she follows Mary Margaret’s gaze and barely has a moment to turn her groan into any other noise before she’s standing face to face with another guy and another outstretched hand.

“Hey,” he says brightly, an easy smile on his face and a t-shirt with a comically large orange on the front. He doesn’t seem to even notice Emma. “You uh….they’re starting some game about first names and I figured, well, since you’ve got two, you might get bonus points or something…”

Emma snorts, biting back hysterics and Mary Margaret stares imploringly at her. An absolute disaster. “Hi,” Emma says, taking the outstretched hand and she’s given up on trying to do any voice that isn’t hers. “I’m Graham Humbert. UMass. M’s and I went to school together.” “David,” he answers. “Nolan. ‘Cuse longstick.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t have been able to guess that at all.” “Em…” Mary Margaret shouts, eyes going wide when she realizes what she’d almost done. David looks momentarily confused, but then his gaze flits back to Mary Margaret and it’s like he’s rediscovered his center of gravity and Emma wonders what kind of science she’d need to just melt into a puddle on the Towson football field.

“Ah, well,” David says, stuffing his hands back in his pockets when he pulls away from Emma. “They told us to support our teams when we got here, which doesn’t really go along with the community feeling they’re telling us we’re building tonight, but whatever. Pays good, right?” Emma hums noncommittally in the back of her throat, rolling her shoulders in her UMass gear. “Longstick, huh? Middie or defenseman?” “Defensive middie.” “Best of both worlds.” “Something like that.”

Mary Margaret looks torn between several different emotions, but Emma finds herself almost liking David Nolan, defensive middie, and she’s got half an idea of what’s going on here. The other half of her mind, however, seems preoccupied with the voices calling from midfield and cheers from the crowd of kids with rich parents who can afford to spend their whole summer at a lacrosse clinic.

And it’s like the world slows down for a moment because Emma knows who’s running towards her before he even skids to a stop in front of them and she can just barely make out David’s mumbled is everything ok when Neal lands in front of her and Mary Margaret.

He blinks once and Emma can’t breathe – her lungs are on fire and her ribs are just disintegrating, she’s positive. “Oh,” Neal says, perking up when he notices Mary Margaret. “Hey Blanchard. Long time no see.” Mary Margaret visibly bristles, narrowing her eyes and Neal is just as ignorant as always and Emma is glad Ruby isn’t there because she absolutely could not deal with another told you so moment. “Neal,” Mary Margaret says softly. “It, uh….well, you’re here, aren’t you? Have you met David Nolan? ‘Cuse. And, uh…” She glances towards Emma, a million questions on her face and Emma shrugs in response. “This is, uh...Graham Humbert. Played at UMass when we were there.”

Neal’s eyebrows shift, but he doesn’t seem to realize anything and Emma wonders how long she can go without oxygen finding its way to her brain. Probably not much longer. She takes a deep breath, shoulders heaving and poor David Nolan looks decidedly out of place. “Nice to finally meet you,” she says, thrusting her hand out into the open space in front of her. “I’ve heard some stuff.” “Good stuff I hope,” Neal grins and Emma makes a contradictory noise in the back of her throat. Mary Margaret tries not to laugh.

“Stuff,” Emma repeats.

Neal’s lips quirk down and Emma tugs her hand back to her side, glancing up when she can hear Killian Jones yelling about teams and rules and playing to ten, but win by two and oh fuck. They’re going to play.

Game on or whatever.

“Right, right,” Neal mumbles. “Well, uh, some of the kids are going to play a little bit and I think that Jones guy is going to make sure we don’t all kill each other, so, uh...I was just coming to see if you guys wanted to suit up.” David wavers for half a moment, glancing at Mary Margaret like he was hoping for a few moments – or possibly an entire lifetime – alone, but Emma’s already nodding. “Yeah,” she says, staring at Neal. “You going to play?”

“That’s why I came over here.” “Good.” Neal looks at her for half a beat and that one corner of Emma’s mind that is still certain this is a goddamn disaster is positive he knows , but then he blinks and the look is gone and she’s far too competitive to care one way or another.

They’re already handing out sticks by the time Emma, David and Neal rejoin the crowd and Killian looks momentarily amused when his eyes land on her. “Ah, Humbert comma Graham,” he says. “I thought you’d disappeared.” Emma’s going to check him. In the head. “I’ve been around,” she answers evasively and the smile on Killian’s face evolves into a smirk that is both the single most obnoxious and attractive thing she’s ever seen. “You going to give me a stick or you just going to stare all night?”

It’s petty and a little immature, but it gets the smirk off his face and Killian nods before pushing a worse-for-wear stick against Emma’s chest. “Try not stun anyone with your Division I talent, Humbert,” he growls and Emma grimaces in response.

“Watch me,” she mutters.

Someone gives Killian a whistle and there are more rules Emma absolutely doesn’t listen to because she’s got a stick in her hand and a ball in her stick and she’s not sure if she’s trying to show off for everyone else or a bit for herself, but she spins away from a defender and lets out some kind of whoop when the ball lands in the back corner of the net.

It took thirty-seven and a half seconds.

“Holy shit,” Will grumbles, leaning behind him to fish the ball out of the net. “That was a rocket, Humbert.” Emma shrugs and Neal is standing slackjawed a few feet out of the crease. “You said you went to UMass,” he says and it sounds like the accusation it absolutely is. Emma nods. “Did you...you know my girlfriend then?”

She can hear herself breathing, which is the only proof that she still is, but it’s loud and just a bit haggard and Emma’s whole body stiffens at the present tense of that particular question. Neal waits for an answer and Will coughs awkwardly there isn’t one.

Emma’s dimly aware of David a few feet away from here and Killian blows that stupid whistle again, shouting about faceoffs and staying on track and Emma licks her lips before lining up again, a ringing in her ears she’s not sure will ever disappear.

It doesn’t. And the game sort of...falls apart after that.

She doesn’t score again, probably accounts for what feels like four-hundred turnovers and picking up a groundball is, suddenly, the most difficult thing in the world. She gets whistled for a slash, whipping her stick across the back of Neal’s calves and it’s the product of frustration and disappointment and athletic-based anger. It leaves Neal yelling about fucking intent to harm and Mary Margaret actually gasps when she sees the bruise already forming and Killian drags Emma off the field, fingers wrapped around her wrist and words mumbled under his breath.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Emma yells, yanking her arm back to her side when they’re on the sidewalk outside the stadium. She elbows herself in the process.

He doesn’t stop moving, pacing a small semi circle until he’s turned back towards her and Emma can practically feel the heat radiating off him. She’s an absolutely disgusting mess – sweat pooling at the base of her spine and dripping down her temple and underneath whatever contraption is still crushing her ribs and maybe she can just stay in Mary Margaret’s room for the night.

That won’t help anything.

“Are you insane?” Killian barks, glowering at her as if she’s just drawn an unreleasable with two minutes left in the national championship game.

Emma meets his expression with one of her own, landing back in the realm of pissed the fuck off rather quickly. She’s never quite done well with authority – or assholes telling her what she can and can’t do on the field. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mutters and maybe she should just stay angry all time because her voice doesn’t really sound like hers anymore.

Killian takes a deep breath, tugging the oxygen in through his nose and his shoulders move with the force of it. He twists his lip in between his teeth again, running a frustrated hand through his hair, unable, it seems, to stop moving or staring at Emma like she’s arrived solely to ruin the integrity of lacrosse.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says after what feels like several lifetimes, but his voice has lost that threatening edge it had a few moments before. “That’s…do you know Cassidy?”

That’s not the question she expects.

She’s not sure what she expects, but a week ago she would have been positive that breaking into a lacrosse clinic pretending to be one of her best friends was the absolute last thing she ever expected, so, all things considered…

Killian just waits for a response, breathing evening out and someone else is blowing a whistle inside the football stadium. “Yeah,” Emma mumbles. “I, uh, do or did…” She shakes her head, trying to will away any sort of misplaced emotion, determined to linger in angry as long as possible. “He...dated one of my friends?” “Was that a question?” “No, no, I mean he did, but he’s a colossal dick so…” “So you were what, exactly?” Killian asks. “Defending your friend’s honor by being a complete fucking idiot on the field?” Emma rolls her eyes, frustration shooting through all of her limbs and lingering at the base of her spine with the sweat. It’s a disgusting thought. “No,” she snaps. “Well, I don’t know...why do you care? It’s not like you’re some pillar of lacrosse purity here.” She has no idea what makes her say it – probably something about that anger and stubbornness to prove herself born out of a lifetime’s worth of not being enough and Killian takes a step away from her as soon as the words land between them. “True,” he says slowly, fingers tapping lightly on the brace at the end of his left arm. “But...well Cassidy might not be the best guy to try and go up against here.” “What?” “How much did your friend tell you about Neal Cassidy, former starter at UNC?”

“Plenty.” “Yeah?” Emma nods, but she can feel her certainty slipping through her grasp and she’s not sure she can find the right word to describe the look on Killian’s face. He takes another step towards her. “Cassidy is here because of his name and his father’s ability to make things very difficult for Regina and her company if he didn’t have a paying gig all summer. You think she wanted him here? She knows his family, apparently knows his dad and, boom, just like that lil’ Cassidy isn’t working for the family business anymore, he’s got a job all lined up teaching kids how to destroy kneecaps with a one-handed shot outside the crease.”

Emma never really knows how she managed to stay standing, but her own kneecaps seem to take Killian’s words as some kind of challenge and she doesn’t move when he grins at her. “I don’t...Gold knows Regina?” Killian hums, but there’s a flash of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t expect her to know names. “I didn’t….I didn’t know that.” “Why would you?” She shakes her head, dragging in a ragged breath and silently promises herself never to make another decision fueled on tequila and Mary Margaret’s optimism ever again. “No reason,” she mumbles. “And did you say something about kneecaps?”

“I did.” “And?” “And what? I thought you knew all about me.” Emma groans, rolling her head back and that’s a mistake because her fucking hair nearly falls off. “I know generic facts that the entire lacrosse world knows,” she argues. “It’s not as if I’m secretly stalking your life.” He does something stupid with his eyebrows, sinking onto the edge of a flower arrangement outside the stadium. Emma doesn’t move. “I grew up with Cassidy,” Killian mutters and Emma’s not sure how much more surprise her body can withstand. “At least kind of. He lived down the block from my mom’s house in a much larger house and played travel ball and club ball and sneered at the idea of high school teams and he went to UNC and I went to a school in fucking New Jersey and when we played against each other in that regional final, he played like he was possessed. Started slashing everything he could.

I think he set some kind of record, but it didn’t work and he kept ending up in the box and we were winning. Until he checked me, straight across the back, no whistle and I lost the ball. He scooped, stayed onsides and didn’t even try to score. He shot at Scarlet’s kneecaps, took him out of the game. Nearly fucked up the whole thing and I don’t think that backup goalie ever really recovered. He’s an ass. Cassidy. Not the backup goalie. He’s got three kids and lives in Tacoma with his very nice wife who bakes things.” “She bakes things?” Emma echoes and Killian’s eyes shoot up towards her, disbelief etched into every single inch of his face.

“Yeah. Cookies. Cupcakes. Apparently an absolutely delicious carrot cake that she brags about in all of her Christmas newsletters.” Emma barks out a laugh and for half a second she forgets everything else except the slightly cautious smile on Killian’s face and her mind roams to completely impossible ideas and it’s as if the entire world flips upside down.

She can’t believe she didn’t realize. Well, no, she can, but she’s kind of mad at herself that she clearly isn’t capable of doing basic math, but she’s always heard that regional final loss differently and she never paid much attention to Neal when he started talking lacrosse.

He always seemed to want to talk about his stat line.

That probably should have been a sign.

God, Ruby’s never going to let her live any of this down.

“Christmas newsletters sounds very adult,” Emma mumbles, rocking awkwardly on her heels when she realizes she’s still standing up. Killian nods towards the seat next to him and she tries to keep, at least, six inches of space between them.

“It does, doesn’t it?” “Carrot cake sounds fucking awful though.” It’s his turn to laugh at that and Emma’s mind has some kind of mind of its own, picturing things and this is now an even worse idea than the worst idea in the history of the world. “It’s not bad with the icing,” Killian muses. “How...how long did you friend date Cassidy?” “Nearly a year. Her friends, well….they...we hated him. Knew he was kind of a dick and self-important and I mean, you know, he played at UNC. What even is a Tar Heel?” “I have no idea.” “Exactly. And then he was always kind of Glory Days’ing things and harping on how great UNC was and just the entire ACC which is, you know, whatever….lacrosse is a countrywide sport now.”

Killian laughs. “I went to Monmouth, you don’t need to tell me about the growing popularity of lacrosse. Although that Denver national championship helped things. UAlbany too. Give a couple of kids a stick and tell them they can hit each other and they’ll come flying in.” “Is that part of your recruit pitch at Maryland?” “Almost verbatim,” he grins. “Although we barely made it out of the Big 10 this year, so I’m not sure I’m doing much in the way of actually accomplishing anything. Need a faceoff kid.” Emma tenses slightly, licking her lips and she’s not sure what to say next. “That’s not easy though,” she mutters. Nailed it, Swan. Absolutely dominated. “And I’d imagine your requirements are fairly high.” “At this point my requirements are trying to find a kid who can win it clean without getting a violation and we have to play man down.” “Ah, well, maybe you can find someone here. Change someone’s life or something.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, glancing at her over his shoulder and Emma pushes her palms flat against the stone she’s sitting on until she’s almost positive she’s cut up her hand. “Plus the money. And to get Scarlet to shut up.” “Does he need to be shut up?” Killian doesn’t answer at first and Emma wonders if she’s overstepped some imaginary boundary, but she sees his shoulders move when he takes another deep breath and he doesn’t blink when he looks at her. “He got the invite since, technically, he can still play, your goal notwithstanding. And he got me in because he knew I’d have some time during the summer before workouts start and he figured it’d be good for me. Bring me back to my humble beginnings or something after the shit season we had.” “Humble?” Emma asks. “How so?” “I never would have been able to afford any of these things when I was a kid,” Killian says, rushing over the words. He’s still looking at her. “I, uh….my brother did his best to help, but he was older and there were only so many ways to play lacrosse by yourself. So I kept working and shooting against the side of the house until I’d broken just about every window and there was a scholarship to one of these prestigious clinics the summer before my senior year. I went and played and that’s where I got offered. It was the only team that even looked my direction.”

“Yeah, me too,” Emma mutters before she realizes what she’s said. Killian looks as if he’s going to fall on the sidewalk. “Uh, I mean...well I kind of bounced around when I was a kid and I played because I could and it was an outlet in a very stereotypical way, but I didn’t think I could do anything with it until UMass showed up. Winning the A-10 was some kind of dream.” She smiles and forgets, for a moment, that she’s not Emma Swan, All-American and that’s her first mistake. Killian narrows his eyes and Emma’s breath hitches, ribs aching and lungs shrinking, or something absolutely impossible, and he twists his lips when he stares at her.

“Right,” he says slowly, standing up and nodding towards the discarded sticks behind them. “You should bring those back to equipment. Don’t go after Cassidy again. He’ll destroy you where you stand.” Emma doesn’t say anything, barely even has a chance to register the words before Killian’s turning away, fingers wrapped around his left forearm and this is the worst thing she’s ever done.

You can read Part Two (the one with the kissing!) here.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs #captain swan ff #cs fic #ouat fandom crescendo #i've covered a lot of lacrosse in my life #and there is a video out there on the internet of me learning how to shoot #from a kid who is literally one of the top goal scorers in ncaa history #and it's straight up just him shooting and me screaming and running away from the goal #so i'm a real professional #some other guys on that team taught me how to check one time too #that was a fun team

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