#- peers in the eye and you randomly lose your voice when things are too much and you once nearly had a full-blown fit in the uni labs when

[artsydudejude]

hey so babe haha hear me out babe what IF.... i made my jekyll & hyde a metaphor for autism..... wherein jekyll represents masking and the hyde transformation is brought on by overstimulation and stress culminating in a meltdown. and then hyde. is just pure unrestrained autism + a whole lotra rage thanks to the stress of prolonged masking.... haha wouldn't that be weird lol probably a dumb idea... unless 👀

[just-jordie-things]

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met.  And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets.  From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were.  She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade.  She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group.  Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own.  She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met.  That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back.  “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face.  “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave.  Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.  

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her.  He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room.  Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again.  “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now.  “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven.  He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge.  Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged.  “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again.  “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved.  He was brave, if not a little reckless as well.  But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help.  Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face.  His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit.  She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed.  “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.  

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him.  “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh.  “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink.  “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess.  You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge.  “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now.  He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D.  His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek.  And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness.  She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to.  Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him.  He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n).  “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.  

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing.  She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile.  “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it.  I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it.  He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face.  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt.  He’d always known.  She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.  Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled.  All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid.  “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend.  “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed.  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile.  His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now.  He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house.  “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look.  “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked.  Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock.  She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs.  (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.  

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards.  He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.  

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly.  It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious.  He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again.  The snap.  Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut.  He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down.  All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her.  This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall.  She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious.  It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest.  He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care.  He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up.  “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose.  He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her.  “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back.  I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan.  They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to.  Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye.  She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised.  The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car.  Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek.  She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called.  It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her.  “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips.  Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended.  She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize.  “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked.  “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front.  “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving.  But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second.  Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now.  “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted.  It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out.  “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly.  “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in.  “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.  

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them.  And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face.  The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now.  He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving.  “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head.  “I’m alright, I will be anyways.  You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry.  I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way.  She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his.  It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.  

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real.  No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him.  Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him.  And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What.  The.  Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat.  “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.  

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes.  “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front.  “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic.  “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure.  In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place.  Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him.  “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”  

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips.  And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before.  (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[darktangledwhispers]

There is collected horrors upon me. (Kurapika X Reader) N-S-F-W

𝕿𝖂: 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉....

I am randomly here now. Don't mind. Just read why don't you?

☂ Collecting your thoughts, racing through your head, you hated this horrid nightmare that kept replaying over and over. He always managed to be one step ahead of you, in everything. His color-changing eyes delved with the witness of torture beyond no imagination, blonde and never-ending soft hair that practically glided through his fingers every time he was stressed. That's what lured you in and now he is right there. In your reach. But managing to look so far away. The pain in his eyes was like no other. How could you manage to fall for someone that's barely there in their own mind?

He looked up at you, his attention not set on the wet cement anymore, but on your apprehensive figure. His lips were parted, you seemed to be staring at them for too long because once he spoke, the movement had startled you.

"Did I interest you that much?" His slick voice escapes his mouth, sounding deeper than before. "I was worried you would stop following me." He stood up, managing to almost tower over you.

You scoffed, feigning disinterest before turning your head back to him. "Why would I ever stop? You're my only lead." You look at him with desperation almost, hoping he won't run this time. Although that was a silly thought. He rarely stayed long enough for you to collect yourself. He always left you breathless. The scent of him caught in your throat as he leaned forward, his eyes flickered down to your lips before looking back up. Kurapika had never once smelt anything around bad. He always smelled like the fresh crisp smell of honey drizzled all over redwood, a sweet but harsh scent, it always made you picture a beautiful forest that had the best dark secrets.

"Why haven't you tried to make me tell you anything yet then?" You didn't expect to hear those words come from him. It left you a little shocked. How hasn't he disappeared yet? It used to be so easy for him too. Now he hit the nail on the head... And so unexpected.

"Why haven't you told me anything if you knew?" You managed to come back with a witty response, a raindrop hitting your nose but you never let your gaze move away from him, afraid that if you even blinked, he would be gone. A smile appeared on his face, only for a split second before he went back to his usual deadpan expression. It tugged at your heartstrings, your knees feeling a little heavier than usual.

"You're right. But what if I liked seeing your skill (F/N)?" Once your name left his lips a shiver ran down your spine.

"How do you know my name?" Your voice wavered now, a little frightened at how he managed to find out. It would've taken a lot for someone to find your name, if not years. You barely told anyone your name.

More raindrops found their way onto your burgundy coat and on Kurapika's reddish-pink nose. It looked like he was really cold from the flush on his cheeks. He looked down, not giving an answer.

Thinking that he would escape now, you sighed and your shoulders dejected, looking at the grey bricked sidewalk. You turned. "You've seen my skill enough then. We weren't supposed to get close like this. I have an objective. So do you." Before you knew it, cold harsh words left your lips. Kurapika's eyes showed a tinge of discomfort to them, the curiosity leaving and replaced with what could only be described as worry. His newfound interest, leaving him? Oh, that wasn't a good thought at all for him. But you didn't know your effect. You thought it was just your silly mind... Playing tricks...

Your dark cerulean boots hit the scattered puddles on the ground, leaving the traumatized blonde on his own, his mouth agape slightly. Was he the one being left behind now? No. That couldn't happen. That wasn't happening. He tensed up as he chased after your disappearing figure, a new feeling taking over him, desperation.

His black dress pants were getting wet on the edges and his shoes becoming littered with water droplets. Your confused (E/C) eyes entered his sight as soon as he came to a halt, only three feet away from you. The boy was confused, it was jumbled all onto his face. Why was he following you? He did have one objective. He needed to focus but you were the only thing on his mind lately. That's why he led you here... Right?

"You can't leave. I haven't said-"

"Yet you can when it's me the one talking." You interrupted him, a glare sent his way. He looked down and then back up, his breathing rigid, his brown eyes flickering to a scarlet which made you stop everything altogether.

"I was afraid." The truth practically dripped from his lips from that moment. His eyes showed all the vulnerability. Why was he opening up to you like this now? Why is he trying to mess with you? You gritted your teeth, shaking your head. "Please leave."

"Why?" He asked, stepping closer to you, realizing he's managing to get through to you. He knew it was wrong to slowly force you to open yourself to the idea of letting him talk but he needed to speak his mind. You were giving in to his little trap.

"You're making a mistake Kurapika. You're making me make a mistake." You shook your head and backed away, trying your best to understand what he needed to say so badly but there were no clues. "You're giving me the wrong idea..." You muttered, your heavy breathing could be seen in the cold air, letting off a fog.

He slowly walked to you until he was only a couple centimeters apart, his scarlet eyes staring deep into yours. You were getting lost in them, your breath hitching. His face... So close... It reminded you of when you first saw him, standing on the rooftop, peering down at the auction house. It was only until later on, you had realized that he had become the Mafia leader. You knew then he could help you but you didn't realize that he was going to try to help in multiple ways. Especially like this.

"Who told you it was the wrong idea?" He had no idea what he was saying, he just followed what his heartbeat was telling him and it was pointing to you in over a million different ways and languages in his head. His lips were slowly coming closer to yours, the rain had picked up but both of you were too distracted to notice. His nose touched yours, the excitement erupted in your stomach as the Kurta pushed you against a wall of one of the buildings. Good thing he picked this time... The city had no one wandering around at this time.

"Back away Kurapika..." Your voice gave it all away, how unsure you were, how much you wanted this boy's lips on yours. It expressed everything to Kurapika at that moment and he took it as a sign to move forward, his lips crashing onto yours.

They were soft, the slight taste of liquor was on them but not enough to cringe at. You made a note of that. 'Guess he likes to indulge in his own regrets...' You gripped onto the lapels of his suit, a groan muttering out his mouth and into yours. You could feel the wetness of his hair against you from the rain, the raindrops mixing in with the kiss before you pulled away. There was a relief of some tension as you looked into his eyes. But they were still burning red.

It was obvious. He didn't just want one simple kiss...

He wanted more.

Everything from then on was a blur, from the trip to his place, to how your clothes slowly littered his marble living room floor, to where you were getting observed by him... Underneath him... His intense gaze never left you, every little inch he observed of your skin, littering kisses, a little lovebite. You'll never get the feeling of his teeth lightly grazing and latching onto your skin ever out of your mind. Never. He was intoxicating. Everything about him was intoxicating you.

"Keep looking at me like that... So I can keep it in my head forever..." He whispers, his lips pressing against your neck now as his hands explore the sides of your body. Rough and still soft... It made you shiver as you looked at the white ceiling. His bed was huge and it made you wonder how he even slept in it lonely but that thought quickly got suppressed in your mind as he found your sweet spot. A moan left your lips unexpectedly, his grip tightening on the bedsheets once he heard what he'd been waiting for. He continued to abuse that spot, his teeth pressing in now, the taste of your skin messing him up slowly. You groaned.

He stopped once he knew left quite the mark on you, his kisses becoming rougher and his hands clearly impatient as they started to travel more. Sounds kept slipping out of you, driving him to slowly lose it. He couldn't take it anymore.

He gripped onto your wrists tightly, marks were going to be on them later, a foreign feeling pushing into you and before you know it you were screaming because of him. He changed his rhythm every time he knew you got comfortable, his own expression twisted in pleasure. There was a little blood surrounding his mouth. You knew he didn't mean to... He couldn't help it.... He just used his canines too much... And you didn't care.

"Kurapika..." You muttered against his collarbone, your nails pressed against his back. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he tried his best to not hurt you again. He was afraid he would go too rough.

"I... love you..." Kurapika looked into your eyes, both of you shared your feelings through a kiss, his grip tightening fully as he couldn't hold back anymore, using all his strength until he made you tremble underneath him... Until you made his back bleed with scratches... Until he knew you wouldn't be able to speak that clearly the next day... He wanted those little reminders of this night to stay with you for a little longer and to stay with him too. He never wanted to forget this.

As soon as your second time flooded through your body, that's when he let go himself, letting everything out inside of you. The feeling making you shake before he collapsed next to you.

Both of you panting. You looked at him, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his eyes back to that beautiful hue of brown. Not that his scarlet wasn't just as beautiful.

"You d-didn't let me say it back..." You huffed, pulling yourself closer to him, trying your best to recover, and like he predicted, your voice was raspy.

"Your face was saying it for you." His laugh danced through your ears like a sweet melody as he moved some of your hair behind your ear before kissing you on the forehead and getting up. "Let me get you cleaned up." His arms were felt under you before you were lifted into his hold, his smile staying on his features longer than before.

You couldn't say anymore, your vocal cords were already strained enough and he understood. He didn't even question why you didn't speak while he cleaned your body. He kept a sincere gaze, washing every single spot, not missing anything. That was until he came across your old scars, a finger tracing them before a concerned gaze met with you.

"You hurt yourself?" Kurapika's voice held a hurt but gentle tone, of course, there were multiple scars on him but he could automatically tell when it was self-harm. He couldn't just leave that.

A sad face decorated yours, looking away, and he decided to bring it up another time. "You're still beautiful." He reassured you. "I won't think anything less of you. Just informing you." He looked up at you with a warm smile and you looked at him in awe, tears brimming your eyes at the sweet words. It was like he read your mind. With that, he pulled you into a hug, soon dressing you, making sure you're comfortable and then laying with you. And as you started to fall asleep, he comforted you on the way there.

"Your secrets are safe with me... (F/N)..."

[saturnsummer]

Solhwi prompt:

Sol A tries to set up a date between sol B and joonhwi after his court 'confession' (even though she is lowkey jealous) assuming he was talking about her and confusion ensues... And if you can use the following dialogue-

"Sol, it's you. It has always been you."

love's complicated.

Sol A's not jealous. She really isn't.

But what was this twisting, nerve wracking feeling that she feels every time she sees Sol B?

notes: prompted by @confusedsoulsramblings ! i had so much fun writing this, i had to add a small bonus at the end. i had no intention on making this so long, but i guess it’s my trait to make long fics. spelling, grammar and incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. thank you all for support, once again! let me know of more prompts, questions or your reviews! feedback and criticism very much appreciated! thank you all, once again for the endless love!!

words: 3000 words.

ao3

Sol shouldn't be any less shocked during Yeseul's trial. When Prosecutor Jin cornered Joon Hwi with his question, she turned to look at her roomie at the same time she did. Then, she saw Joon Hwi’s eyes trail nervously, fluttering between them both. Sol knew his answer from the look on his face. 

It was never her to begin with.

She wasn't angry. She wasn't upset. She expected it. Sol B was sophisticated, graceful and beautiful. She knew how all the freshmen would nickname her "Ice Princess.". Could anyone disagree? Furthermore, coming from a family of lawyers and prosecutors, who wouldn't love her? She was a dream child. She possessed both the brains and the beauty. 

Joon Hwi was always open with his teasing and words. He loved teasing her over their first meeting at the bookstore. He loves visiting Byeol randomly, even when Sol isn't home. He often comments with sentences that could have secondary meanings, and was very much teased by Bokgi. Even though he infuriated her sometimes, she always smiled with him.

Sol felt special, if she was honest. She felt like the only girl that he had his eyes on. She couldn’t help but feel tingly inside and her heart blooming like flowers in spring. Yeseul spent hours convincing Sol that Joon Hwi likes her, and on some nights, she liked to fantasied to the thought of it. 

Of course, it means nothing to her now.

Sol sits alone in the study room, huffing out a sigh. She ruffles her hair and buries her face into her sweater sleeves. She can't believe that she can't study due to Joon Hwi liking her roommate. She doesn't like the twisting feeling in her stomach, and she doesn't know what it's called, too.

Was she... jealous? 

Sol shakes her head vigorously and slaps her face a couple of times. No, she thinks, and lets out a breathy laugh. She can’t be. As far as her feelings went, she never considered seeing Joon Hwi more than best friends. The chances of him liking her was held at a much higher percentage than her liking him, in Sol’s head. 

But thinking back, she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore. She couldn’t bury her feelings any further, especially now that she has accidentally dug them up. Her snarky remarks, the way she acted with him, the burning feelings she felt whenever someone spoke bad of him, her smiles that she would sometimes save for him. 

Maybe, she does had feelings for this second round judicial exam passer. 

But at the same time, she felt wrong. Her roomie was oh, so obviously in love with Joon Hwi, harbouring such toxic feelings felt wrong. It felt backstabbing and so betraying. She couldn’t be jealous. She can’t be, anymore. She should be happy, for her best friend to fancy such a perfect partner like Sol B.

Even if it meant that her feelings were not returned, she didn't mind. 

Because his happiness and smile was enough for her. 

-----

Sol did her best to squash those toxic feelings. She reminded herself that her roomie was in love with her best friend, and her best friend felt the same. She avoided every moment she was caught between them and always scooted away when Joon Hwi wanted to sit with her. She gave lame excuses (”I want to sit with Yeseul”, “Yebeom needs to help me with a case”), but her feelings only bubbled up stronger inside. 

She witnessed as her cold faced roomie soften in her speech when talking to Joon Hwi, the way her eyes softened when he would explain something to her, the way he gave the exact same smile to her when he witnesses her finally figuring things on her own. Or the eyes that he gives when he devours his ramyeon while Sol eats her extra pickles with equal fervour. 

If Sol was being honest and straightforward, she wanted to take out her anger on Joon Hwi. For leading her on to believing that he liked her. For being so flirty with her that even BokGi wanted to join in on the teasing. For playing her into this game, only to leave her hanging and lost and completely blindsided by his feelings.

But no, she couldn’t. She knew it wasn’t his fault. She blamed herself, for letting herself be lead by him. She blamed herself for falling for him, instead of focussing on her studies. She was always more rash and emotional. 

It was her decision to fall for his charms, not his. 

She can’t bring herself to blame him, knowing that Joon Hwi was always like this. Mumbling with low spirits, she sunk lower into her chair in the empty study room. She purposely didn’t want to tell anyone that she would be studying in the study room, in hopes that she could be alone. Heading back to her dorm was not an option, since her roomie’s presence would made her so guilty.

“Why the long sigh, sunbae?” She freezes at the nickname. Internally, a part of her lights up, recognising the voice, but even more the nickname that was said. As quickly as it came, it dissipated as she finally registered who it was, and her guilt ridden feelings came right back up. 

Joon Hwi walked in, with his bag slung over, his signature smirk on his face. Pulling a chair, he scooted it over nearer to Sol. Peering over her book, he leaned closer and grabbed the pen she was holding.

“Ooh, criminal codes. Are you having trouble?” He asks, leaning closer to her. 

Sol was so glad he was not looking at her. His body was so near hers, that she could smell the fresh cologne he wore, and the slight musk of sweat from a whole day of work. She couldn’t stay here any longer, while having a knot in her stomach. Leaping from her chair, she gathered her books, nearly scaring Joon Hwi and she quickly packed her things. 

“I... I just remembered that I needed to meet Yeseul for something!” She blurts out, before running out the room. 

She ran up to where the lecture halls were at, before going back down and escape to a part of their campus garden. She always took the same spot, a hidden corner hidden away by a tree that even Joon Hwi isn’t aware of. She frequented that area many times, when she was still insecure about making friends and found it particularly comforting.

“This is no good, I can’t run off every time I see him.” She mumbles to herself. She knew she was right. She knew Joon Hwi was smart to catch on about her not attending classes as usual with her seat next to him. Even though she still showed up for study group, she knew that he could sense the change in her mood. 

She needed a plan, and she needed it ASAP. 

-----

A week passed after her awkward encounter. Sol had gotten used to the twisted feeling in her stomach. After a week of debating in her head, she formulated her plan to get her feelings over and done with. 

She was going to have her roommate and Joon Hwi date. 

Sol had figured that if there’s anything she does best, it’s to disappoint herself. Instead of losing face to her best friend and confessing to him about how she felt, she much rather have her feelings crushed instead. Because she knows that he will probably debate on who to choose and she couldn’t let him be the decision maker. He doesn't need to make such a difficult decision. 

Besides, Sol knew her roomie’s situation. With an overbearing and controlling mother, the least she could do to make her happy was to have the man she crushed on. He could at least help her in her studies, benefitting her mother’s dreams of being a judge one day and have him by her side forever. 

Sol knew the date was going to go well. Sol B had the hugest crush, Joon Hwi would have might as well admitted to her that he had feelings for her in front of the whole court room. All they were missing were private moments alone, without their textbooks and no mentions of school. Oh, and maybe a few glasses of wine and a fancy restaurant in town.

And so Sol found herself in the study room alone again, thinking about how to tell Joon Hwi about setting up a date between Sol B. 

Apparently, fate meant for it to happen now.

Because Joon Hwi strode in, a familiar smile on his face, in his hoodie. 

“Stuck again?” Joon Hwi says, nodding to her books on the table. She contemplates going into small talk and saying yes, but pushes her thoughts aside. No, she needed this out of her system. 

“Joon Hwi, how would you like to go on a date with Sol B?” She blurts out, literally making her point across. Joon Hwi is stunned for a moment, as he sets his bag on the table, leaning on a chair. 

“Well...what makes you think I would enjoy it?” Joon Hwi stutters back, clearly stunned. 

“Oh, I mean, well, you know how Sol B likes you, don’t you? And I think it’ll be nice for you to go on a date with her. You know get to know my roomie more.” Sol replies as casually as she can. A part of her hopes he says no, that he rather spends his time doing anything else. 

But instead, he just shrugs and nods. 

And her heart drops, shattering like glass into a thousand pieces. She maintains her bright smile on her face, and even gives a convincing laugh. Sol sits through the next ten minutes of her telling Joon Hwi when she’s free tomorrow and promising she won’t tell anyone, not even Yeseul. 

As best as she can, she excuses herself from him, hoping her voice isn’t shaky when she says “I hope you enjoy your date!” as she walks away. Her steps are shaky and she feels lightheaded. She doesn't notice how her eyes are teary, the same way they get when she cuts onions. 

Rushing to the washroom nearest to the garden, she locks herself in a cubicle and takes deep silent breaths. She concentrates on breathing and tries brainwashing herself. Come on, Sol, you can’t be upset for him. You should be happy! Joon Hwi is going on a date! And he’s going with the best girl you know! Why are you upset? She repeatedly chants this in her head, holding in her tears as best she can.

But it unfortunately isn’t enough when she finally cracks, letting the pent up sadness explode from it’s cage, her tears streaming down. She prays the bathroom is empty when she wails and sobs, crumbling to the floor in a heap of tears as she can’t help but get the image of her crush and roommate holding hands and kissing. 

For once in her life, she has never felt so hurt, but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for putting herself in this situation. She landed herself in this ditch, and now she has to deal with the fact that her crush, her best friend, will be dating her roommate. 

Composing herself, she wipes her tears dry and washes her splotchy face. She rejects Yeseul’s offer for dinner, resorting to spending her night at the campus garden away in her hiding spot. She’s cold, but it’s nowhere near the numbness she feels in her heart deep down. When it gets too cold at 2am, she sneaks back into campus and goes to the long sofas in front of the Lady of Justice statue. 

She sits there staring into space for a long while, before carrying her bag to the, now empty and deserted, study room, where she crouches to the corner of the room. She’s reminded of the moments where he would sit with her so close, their shoulders brushed each other and their fingers always fumbled around for stationary. Everything reminds her of him, and she falls asleep, huddled in a corner, just as the rare rays of sun start to emerge.

She wanted him, but he wasn't hers anymore. 

-----

“Sol. Sol, get up.” She hears a familiar voice say. Having slept for less than six hours, she’s groggy and rubs her eyes. Her back hurts from being hunched over, and her joints are sore and stiff. Her vision comes to focus as she comes face to face with Joon Hwi.

“Ah!” She yelps out, startled by his presence and retreats back, only banging her head against the metal cabinets instead. She winces and rubs her head, soothing her pain. Joon Hwi sighs and holds out his hand. She swats his hand away. 

“Why are you here?” Sol asks Joon Hwi. Joon Hwi holds a serious expression as he steps back to let Sol stand on her own. 

“I take back what I said yesterday.” He says suddenly. 

“Huh?”

“I’m not going on a date with Sol B anymore. I don’t want to.” He blurts out. Sol takes a moment to register his words. Immediately, anger floods in. She can’t tell if it’s residual anger from being mad at him for playing her, or anger on behalf of her roommate. 

“What? What do you mean? But Sol B likes you so much! You should at least give her a chance!” Sol argues back, making her way to the other side of the table at the same time, dumping her bag there. She’s proper angry now, letting her emotions take charge of her actions. Her eyes are frustrated and her face frowns. Joon Hwi stops her and grabs her wrist, stopping her from moving away from him and pulls her back to the same side of the table that he is. 

“I don’t like her. And I don’t think I ever will.” He admits. Sol is breathless, taking in all this new information. But during the court, it was so clear that it was her roommate. She can’t do it, having Joon Hwi so close to her, wanting to be with him, yet getting told that he harbours no feelings for Sol B. The tension she felt was driving her crazy.

“But...” Her speech comes out breathless, almost suffocated out of anger and frustration. 

“Sol.” His voice is an octave lower, as he leans towards her, his face closing the distance. “Listen to me.”

“It’s you. It has always been you. From the beginning, it was always you.” 

Sol lets out a breath, almost suffocating from the tension. 

It...it was her? 

All this while...? 

“I thought... I thought...” She hates how her voice is so full of breath. She’s leaning against the table, and his hands have shifted from her wrist to the side of the table, trapping her.“I thought you liked her. I thought this entire while, she was the one you liked.”

“Maybe this will make you trust me.” 

And he presses his mouth against hers. 

Sol’s startled, not used to Joon Hwi being so dominating. But his soft lips against hers distract her. She removes her hands from the table, bringing them up to his hang around his neck. His hands slowly make their way to her waist as they move in sync. When they finally part, Sol’s face is blushed bright red. She feels his hot breath against her face.

“Believe me now, sunbae?” 

-----

bonus:

Sol B tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ears when she stops in her tracks to meet Joon Hwi.

“Hey, um, can we talk?” He asks awkwardly. She doesn’t know why she feels so calm, knowing that she should be feeling butterflies for having her crush talk to her. Nodding, they head to a spot until the staircases. 

“I don’t know how to put it...” Sol B realises where this conversation is going. In fact, she has been waiting for this day, ever since Yeseul’s court hearing. She knows what he’s going to say before he even says it. 

“You don’t like me, you like Sol A, right?” She completes his sentence. Joon Hwi fumbles in his speech and finds ways to defend himself quickly. But Sol B is quick to cut him off.

“It’s okay.” She says, the closest thing to a satisfied face she can make on her face. “I fully support you.”

“You’re... you’re not sad? Or angry?” Joon Hwi is cautious with his questions. Sol gives a slight scoff. If she’s honest, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what begin her crush for him, to begin with. She can’t remember if it was the way he answered questions, or the time he helped her put on her glasses. All she knows is that he didn’t like her, and she felt peace with that.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Your smile and your eyes are enough to prove it. Besides, that's who you were talking about in court, wasn’t it? You wanted to protect her.” She asks. He nods, eyes unable to meet hers. 

When Sol B went to bed the night before, she noticed that her roomie was nowhere. Assuming that she was out studying, she went to bed. But when she woke up the next morning, Sol B found her bed still the same state as last night. It was obvious she didn’t return to the dorm. 

“She didn't come back last night.” Sol B says and Joon Hwi’s eyes widen in panic. 

“What?”

“Check the study room. She might just be studying there.”

“Okay.” He says and turns around. But he turns around once more before jogging away.

“Thank you, for everything.” 

Sol B gives a suppressed smile as she watches Joon Hwi get further and further from him. She tries all she can to find anger, jealousy, sadness, brokenness, denial. 

But yet, all she feels is calming peace. 

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 

"What does it look like?" You asked. 

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 

"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered. 

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

[batmayne]

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆? - peter maximoff

author’s note: this is my first Peter fic so I apologize if I mischaracterize him! Also some notes, Peter is 17 in 1973/Days of Future Past (he was born in 1956) and 27 in 1983/Apocalypse. The X Men timeline is mad wonky so I just have Logan waking up sometime in his future when the timeline has been fixed. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. I hope y’all enjoy!

genre: slight enemies to lovers, fluff

word count: 1350

1973

As you watched the pot filled with some strange boiling liquid hurl itself toward you, all you could do was hold your arms up in a feeble defense. Though a mutant yourself, nothing could’ve prepared your powers for the amount of commotion and chaos that was occurring at the moment. Even with three strange men showing up at your door randomly (with one claiming to be a friend of yours in the distant future), you still hadn’t expected to lose your life already, you were only 16 for goodness sake! There was so much more to life than killed by a stray pot containing a sad excuse for food.

A couple of seconds passed and instead of being knocked unconscious, you felt a swift breeze rustle your clothing. Removing your hands from your face, you were met with a smirking Peter Maximoff holding said now empty pot a few inches from your face - much to your disappointment.

Despite only knowing him for several hours, Peter had managed to get on your nerves more than anyone you’d ever met, which was saying something. That being said, he wasn’t exactly too fond of you either, hence why he attempted to spend every minute of your time together trying to get under your skin. He could tell by the look of disapproval on your features that you weren’t in moral agreement with the stacks of stolen merchandise that lined his basement walls. But for the sake of breaking Magneto out of prison you two agreed to get along for the time being, it took a lot of reassurance from Logan though.

At one point he had to pull over on the side of the road because your bickering was distracting him from driving.

“Are you two going to stop flirting long enough for us to reach the Pentagon?”

“Flirting?” Peter questioned incredulously, placing his arms behind his head and slouching further in his seat. “I wouldn’t date her if she was the last woman on this planet.” Instead of responding with a sarcastic remark, you just shoved him and ignored his comment. Crossing your legs and peering out of the window as Logan pulled off the curb, you had asked yourself why that last comment bothered you so much. But what you didn’t know was that Peter would be asking himself a similar question when he stared at you for a couple of seconds too long when making sure the pot and it’s contents didn’t hit your head. Sure, he couldn’t see your face because of your hands and while your body position was rather comical at the moment - he had to admit, you were cute. Not that he would ever say it aloud though.

“Thank you.” You replied quietly, and attempted to shuffle out of the room along with Charles and Erik.

“What?” He called back at you, causing you to stop and let Logan brush pass you into the hallway. “No response this time?” He asked once again, wondering why you didn’t call him stupid or at least have some sort of comeback, but all he got in return was an eye roll.

“Y/N, Peter, I just want to thank you both for helping us, it is greatly appreciated.” Charles and Hank bidded you both farewell, and handed the keys over to Peter. “And Y/N, make sure he gets the car back safely please, and Peter make sure she gets back home safe.”

Peter’s horrid driving skills made you wonder why he wasn’t imprisoned with Erik for being a danger to society, but that wasn’t a surprise to you of course. You thought everything about him was reckless, which was the sole reason you couldn’t see eye to eye. As stated earlier, Peter found you insufferable as well, thinking that you were allergic to fun or something. Despite that, couldn’t deny that the way the afternoon sunlight coated his features made your stomach flutter the slightest bit. What were you even thinking? You were obviously suffering from exhaustion from the days events that were clouding your mind anyway.

“Where do you want me to drop you off at anyway?” Peter asked, breaching your thoughts as he ran another light.

“U-um, the public library is fine.” You stuttered out quickly, now concerned as to why him just glancing in your direction caused you to temporarily lose your usually cool composure.

After about an hour of awkward silence and Aerosmith blasting from the radio, you reached your destination.

“Thanks for the ride, make sure you get it back safely.” You eyed him seriously before waving briskly and closing the door. Before you could even reach the top stair, you heard him call your name and so you turned around.

“Hey Y/N!” He shouted from about 20 feet away, catching the attention of onlookers. “Tell your mom I said hey!” Instead of getting angry you found yourself chuckling quietly before waving again as he sped off down the road.

After phoning a relative via a pay phone to come pick you up (fully expecting to hear an ear full for disappearing for an entire Saturday), you took a seat on a bench outside. Mulling over the intense events of the day, one would expect you to feel relieved that it was over and that you were away from all the craziness, but you instead felt quite the opposite. Growing up in a rather sheltered home, a part of you missed the action and adventure, but another part of you was missing Peter for some reason? Sure, he was aggravating and annoying and you were sure that he felt the same way, but at the same time he was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a friend.

Being a mutant was already difficult enough, and controlling your powers in a high school setting certainly wasn’t a day in the park. Everyone treated you as if you were some sort of alien or simply avoided you, but at least Peter treated you like you were normal? But there was no sense in pondering about that anyway, it wasn’t like you’d ever get to see him again.

1983

Once you had graduated high school and then gone on to higher education all the way up to receiving a masters degree, you were somewhat at a loss with what to do with your life. Having such a unique mutation as your own, you felt that you could be of use other than in a common workplace. Lucky for you, you got a call from a familiar Professor with his own school.

Having been a part of the staff of Xavier’s School for Gifted Individuals for several years now, you had achieved a steady routine, often operating as the school's nurse whenever a student was injured - which happened often.

It had started off as a normal enough day before you heard a rather boisterous explosion from deep within the school’s basement. Before you even had the chance to move or react, you found yourself outside with the rest of the students… in someone’s arms. Supporting your back with one hand and the underside of your knees, there stood an older Peter whose gaze was currently focused on the exploding building in front of you.

“Peter?” You gasped confusedly, still attempting to fathom the events that were occurring around you.

“Hey.” He replied dazedly, looking down at you with a lazy smile.

Hearing a helicopter approach in the distance, he gently set you back onto your feet. Darting around to check on the confused students, you were completely caught off guard by the wave of energy that hit you, effectively knocking you and everyone else out.

Eventually waking up and recovering after all of the commotion occurred a couple of days later, you helped treat Peter for his broken knee, which was a bit awkward. While you obviously weren’t thinking about him every second of the day, you would poke into Charles’ office occasionally and ask if he had heard about his whereabouts.

“What have you been up to these days?” You asked tentatively, not looking up from wrapping his bandages.

“I originally came here to look for my dad, er Magneto, but I think I’ll stick around a little while.” He replied, smiling as he placed his hands behind his head.

“I think I’d like that.”

The Future

Waking up years after the events of time meddling into the future, Logan found himself quite disoriented as he bumbled around the hallways. The first thing that immediately caught his attention was two voices behind a nearby door, opening to reveal an older you and Peter - with intertwined hands.

“You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago.” You complained light heartedly, stepping further out into the hallway. “For someone with super speed you sure do take-“ Peter abruptly brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it, effectively shutting you up for the time being.

“Aw, babe, you know you’d never get rid of me.” He teased with a smirk, nodding his head slightly in greeting to Logan, while you rolled your eyes and gave him a wave.

Logan found himself giving the slightest smile at the sight of the matching rings on your hands.

[sunjaesol]

and in the haze you see colours

juke | human soulmate au | title: 5 am // amber run

The first colour she ever saw was purple.

When someone was born, they got to see one colour. To each it was different and often a reflection of one's aura. Julie's aura was purple and, naturally, it was the colour she could see. Which was unfortunate, as there weren't many purple things in life - not naturally, at least.

And so, her entire bedroom was purple. Purple walls and purple sheets and purple stationary. The rest were varying shades of grey. Often times, she asked her parents why some were lighter than others, and they told her about green and blue and red. It sounded like a fairy tale. Red was warm, apparently, and blue was flexible and green was fresh. Despite their best attempts, she couldn't visualise it.

It didn't matter. Once she met her soulmate, she would see all the colours imaginable.

Befriending Flynn was easy. The girl had purple ribbons in her hair and that instantly attracted Julie. Vice versa, Julie's orange dress was a plus for Flynn. Through their deep bond, oranges slowly infused itself in her cornea. Orange, like a child's laughter.

With Carrie came pink. Pink, like the fiery moves of a dancer. It was close to purple, so it wasn't a huge shock to see a bouquet of roses suddenly come alive with colour.

In retrospect, gaining orange and pink wasn't that amazing. Not when she lost her mother while doing so. Placing pink dahlias on her grave was just another punch in the gut.

Years passed and people around her found their soulmates. In freshmen year, so many students gasped and fainted as they crossed eyes with their One. She went to parties and someone would start randomly kissing the other. She went to open mics and watched as her soprano voice accompanied two people finding love. It was as beautiful as it was tragic.

Julie was seventeen and she still hadn't found her soulmate. Statistically, most had by now. Had she not gone to The Orpheum that night, she might’ve waited even longer.

Flynn urged her to go to this new and upcoming band, Sunset Curve, as their sound was someone she’d vibe with. Julie wasn’t really feeling it, drowning in homework and song ideas, but her friend was persistent. They needed a breather from everything and a concert was the perfect remedy. After a quick Google search, she realised they were her age. Curiosity swelled in her chest, wondering how they moved up from open mics or school assemblies to the iconic stage of The Orpheum. The only thing she could note about the band was the drummer’s pink hoodie. That was it.

The venue was packed when they arrived. Boisterous chatter, antsy for the band to come on stage and fill the spaces between the instruments. Glasses chiming of sodas and beers being filled and passed around, the soft hum of pop music blaring from a speaker. Most of the crowd were kids from neighbouring schools and all dressed more alternatively. Though she didn’t see most colours, it was clear as day the band tees were vintage and the trousers were ripped or checkered or both.

She shot Flynn a look. “Are you sure this is our thing?”

“Yes!” Propelling them to the front of the stage and consequently shouldering kids in the ribs, she added: “Their biggest hit is, like, insane. And you’ve been in a funk all week, so you need some insanity. To like, counteract it. I don’t know.”

Julie withheld a pout. She’s been ‘in a funk’, because while she was at Eats & Beats grabbing a coffee, two strangers fawned at the sight of each other. RIght in front of her nose, another couple found. It normally didn’t affect her that much, but it did this time. The girl was sick of hearing about romantical love instead of experiencing it herself. Sure, she had Flynn and Carrie and her family, but…

But she wanted that. She wanted more. And with each ticking hour, it felt less and less viable. Where was the One for her?  

The lights dimmed and the pop music stopped, smoke drifting across the stage as the audience began hollering and whistling. Egging the band to get on and give a performance worth watching. The hyped-up teens pushed everyone to the front, now Julie and Flynn forced to crane their necks to watch.

The drummer came on first, all applauding for him as he took his seat and started a drum beat that quickly upped in tempo. It swept them up in an atmosphere, heads bobbing and feeling that rise in anticipation.

Then the bassist came. His dark jacket glittered in the overhead lights, the flannel peaking beneath almost hinting at orange but remaining grey. He added to the beat, bringing in a bassline that had feet bouncing and more people cheering. The mic at the front remained empty, teasing its explosion of lyrics and electricity.

Finally, at the crescendo of sound, the frontman stormed on. He was all charm and smirks and cut-offs and blazing purple shoes. That caught her off guard, eyes dropping to the ultraviolet sneakers. A shock of colour amidst the grey.

His raspy voice belted out lyrics, a grin pulling on Julie’s face at the musicality. Grabbing Flynn’s hand, they jumped around with the other people. Their music was insane. It was fast and clashing and aggressive and raw.

With her neck in its odd position, she observed the singer for a beat. He was… hot. That was all Julie could think. He was hot. His hair falling perfectly right, big eyes, the smile breaking all lines in his face like a beautiful mosaic. Humming like an undercurrent was a buzz right beneath her ribs. Snug and warm, which could’ve been the vibrations from the amps, but it felt different. A good different.

They were in their fourth song when it happened. The band was kicking and jumping around, singing about making it big and not looking down, skyrocketing to stardom, when it happened.

The lead singer dropped to his knees and let the guitar riff bleed to the front row. The audience hollered, Julie laughing in delight at the expert playing, when her and the guy’s gazes met.

He yelped, music stopping short as he careened over the edge and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously, Julie felt the air knocked out of her lungs, losing balance and falling into Flynn. Her eyes were shrivelling with heat, as if hit with the embers of a campfire. A hammer slammed down on the buzz in her chest, electrifying the feeling till it was nearly unbearable.

Her eyes shot open. And then there was colour.  

The crowd dispersed in fright. Gasps and gawks echoed to the back, curious murmurs carefully watching the guy and the girl come to their senses.

“Flynn,” she exclaimed, grabbing for her friend. “Flynn, I can-”

Except she wasn’t there, joining the rest of the crowd further back. The bassist and drummer were watching on, baffled.

Oh. Her stare drifted to the squirming boy on the floor. Oh.

Luke scrambled upright, instantly coming face to face with Front Row Girl and all the colours he has wished to see forever. His eyes were burning from shock and euphoria, greys and whites bleeding out of his bloodstream.

Her hands grasped for his face, worried, lips forming words he hardly registered but vaguely processed as ‘asking if he was okay.’

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze racing across her features to wholly take her in.

Warm skin and wide, brown eyes and dark lashes and curled, pink lips and a pointed chin and glossy, long curls dancing against her cheeks and soft hands and red - she was wearing red. His colour. His soulmate.

He laughed. “Hi.”

She matched it, giggling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he sighed, still in disbelief that she was his soulmate. His soulmate. His soulmate. The One.

Her trembling smile softened, thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. “You have really pretty eyes,” she whispered.

Her own were shining with unshed tears and he felt himself choking up too. Never in a million years did he think he’d meet his soulmate. To him, it had always been music. Sure, it sounded nice, but he knew he shouldn’t be yearning for it. He had his friends - his aura was red and he gained pink from Alex and yellow from Reggie.

But suddenly she was here. She was really here.

“You’re- pretty-” he stumbled, causing her to laugh again.

Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to continue the gig. The Orpheum was a big deal, but meeting your soulmate? Most monumental moment of anyone's life.

There was so much colour now. So much life. There was so much more than just music and red and pink and yellow to enjoy. (Songs swirled in his mind though, exciting him to the bone as his hands slid to grab her own. Winking all coy, like the best was yet to come.)

“Do you wanna talk?” he rushed out after.

She nodded. “Yeah. You- uh- your band-”

Their fingers intertwined, warmth dancing in his heart. “Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “Really does not matter right now.”

The light of a camera flash and exhilarated screams of ‘soulmates!’ ripped them from their bubble. The bassist jumped offstage and clapped Luke on the back, whispering at him to go to the alley. Leading her away, there was no sense of doubt in their steps. Luke didn’t know her name, she maybe didn’t know his. None of that mattered. There was colour now.

From the alleyway, they found themselves wandering around the Strip as they talked for ages. Her name was Julie, his was Luke, they were musicians, they were seventeen, their auras were purple and red, he decided he adored her smile the most and she his twinkling eyes.

“I think they’re green,” Julie said, peering into his eyes. She was impossibly close and it sort of took his breath away. “They’re fresh.”

“Fresh?” he grinned.

She didn’t lean back - she didn’t want to, his soul simply enigmatic - and asked him the same question. “What are mine?”

His expression softened, a smile twitching on his lips. They’re beautiful. “Brown, I think,” he said instead. “Not sure though. You wanna figure it out tomorrow?”

Her stride halted, their grasp on each other nearly yanked apart. His brows raised expectantly. It was there - that invisible, innate, sense of understanding. It wasn’t just colour. It was the refusal to look at colour alone, ever again. It was insane for the both of them, how their rushing thoughts slotted all puzzle pieces together without a hitch. It had that satisfying click-click-click sound, like dominoes.

Luke found himself coming back to her, the space between them disappearing till their arms pressed together and there were no forces tugging them together. It was all themselves.

“I have a book about colour,” Julie eventually said. “We can learn them all.”

He smirked. “I can tell you your lips are pink.”

“Yours are too.”

“Yeah?” he teased.  

But then she lifted a finger and pressed against the plump skin. His heart stopped short at the sensation. Before he gave into the instinct to pucker them and kiss it, her hand dropped.

Julie grinned. “And now they’re red.”

When Luke kissed her, hers were red too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaidjulie​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @stydixa​

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

16. Sinful dreams

Prompt used- massaging them | WARNING- implied smut | shout-out to everyone reblogging and commenting on these. Ps. Sorry for no update yesterday ( it's hard to keep up )

" well hello the man who thinks it's his house" harry gave Draco a grin who had presumably came to his house while he was out shopping using the spare key Harry had given him.

" I needed a change of space. Did you bring my biscuits ?" He asked

" I would go shopping and not bring your biscuits, you really are Dim witted " Harry placed his palms on the kitchen top before he took out Draco's biscuits and threw it at Draco in the living room who immediately caught before it would've fallen to the ground and get cracked up.

" what are you even working on ?" Harry asked as he started putting things into the refrigerator.

" just grading some papers " Draco replied opening the packet of biscuit and eating it slowly " still as delicious as ever " he groaned. Chuckling Harry turned to see Draco eating his biscuits, he seemed like Someone who had just been given his Christmas gift.

" I thought you already did them ?" Harry asked

" well turned out the question I had basically wronged of every student was infact right, I was the one who made a careless mistake in the question paper, so now I have to recheck every paper and grade them over again " he sighed as he simultaneously went back to grading his papers

" sometimes you work harder than I do " Harry gave a light laugh as he got his juice box and went into the living room to sit with Draco.

" well being a professor is hard. You should see the answers sometimes. They're worse than yours " Draco groaned changing the answer sheet.

" hey, I wasn't that bad. I just didn't like potions because of snape " Harry defended himself as he watched Draco grade the papers. He randomly picked one of the Answer sheet of a kid named ken wood, chuckling almost immediately after reading the answer

" I remember I wrote the exact same answer once and it turned out to be surprisingly right which I see you've crossed at "

" what?" Draco huffed as he took the sheet from Harry, Peering over the answer and as if upon realising his mistake, sighing he corrected the answer and grade all over.

" you do work hard " Harry's Voice echoed as he went into th bedroom.

" you've got no idea Harry, if only one day you accept that job at school, you'd understand " Draco voice echoed as well from where Harry heard it.

He soon came back in the living room carrying his guitar and sitting down next to Draco's feet, tuning it instantly.

" no joke honestly, I am thinking over it. I do enjoy working in the Muggle world but sometimes i just feel like it's better being really who you are and being with people of your sort " Harry explained

" well Ms. McGonagall would be very glad to have you " he replied.

" you're gonna play ?" Draco asked as he finally noticed Harry had set his hands to play

" you don't want me to ?" Harry asked looking up at Draco

" yes please, I will kill myself if I have to do more of these with no source of enjoyment " Draco rolled his eyes..

Smiling Harry started to play lightly. When after the war Harry set out on his path to discover himself and trying out new things, he had instantly fallen in love with playing guitar. It took a great deal of practice but Harry had successfully learned how to play it last. Often he plays for his friends if they ever go out on a trip or if they're stressed out and he had played on a bunch of their bonfire nights. For Draco it had always worked out pretty greatly. He loved listening to harry play, he played it to so whimsically that he mostly found himself lost in the tunes and just hearing Harry hum along as he played. It was soothing and mildly attractive to Draco, not that he's ever going to tell Harry that but he liked to imagine that he already knew and that was why he used to play it more attractively each time.

The thing was Harry never really realised if he ever started to sing lightly along playing or humming, Draco never pointed. So when Harry was lightly humming and singing to the song, Draco found it much easier to grade his paper more fastly and without wanting to kill himself however in between he had groaned because of craning his neck downward and harry immediately took notice of it.

" what happened ?" He asked concerned putting away his guitar.

" nothing, just my neck hurts now from all the looking down just like I have to look down on you " even in slight he hadn't missed the opportunity to tease Harry who flipped him off.

" here, let me massage " Harry got up from the floor and went behind to sit over the edge of the couch, his feets alongside Draco's body.

" you sure, you know- ooh " he immediately moaned in relief as Harry started massaging the bottom of his neck.

" better ?" Harry asked

" much better " Draco mumbled as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back a little enjoying Harry's hands over his neck.

" you overwork yourself Draco " Harry complained knowing Draco, he probably had time but still tries to do everything beforehand

Draco hummed in response. It soon became ritual between them for Harry to give him massages whenever he was tired or very much worked out and harry happily complied. It was only during one Massage when everything became weird, Harry was simply giving Draco a massage when he had accidentally moaned loudly when Harry has massaged a specific spot on his back. Assuming that none of them heard it, Harry resumed giving him a massage when he elicited the same moan out of Draco and suddenly it became too much for Harry to go on and had to immediately stop Because of the sudden sensation going down south.

" Why'd you stop ?" Draco asked embarrassed

" oh nothing, I - I just need to use the restroom " Harry said as he not so subtly got up from behind Draco and ran for the bathroom to cool down but nothing really worked. Hearing Draco's moan was like a cardinal sin and harry had happily became a sinner. His voice rang over and over in his head which only troubled everything. All he could think about was how beautiful his moan had sounded and how in many more sinning ways he could elicit the same moan. Inappropriately thinking about Draco only worsened everything because the images he had thought about Before of Draco now had a sound and it only turned him on more and more.

Harry was leaned against the kitchen sink waiting for his hard on to go away when there was a knock on the door. He must've been in there for longer than Draco could've anticipated because now he was concerned about Harry.

" is everything alright, Harry?"

" yeah, ev- everything's fine " everything was not absolutely fine, how voice sounded much more strained and he was fighting urge to shove his hands down his pants for relief

" you don't sound so fine, open the door Harry " Draco commanded from the other side of the door

" you go, I'll be out in a few" Harry leaned furthermore onto the sink, almost palming over his jeans

" I'll break the door open if you don't open it right now, I'm giving you 3 seconds "

" 1"

" 2 "

" 3 - I'm openi-"

Huffing Harry opened the door " what ?"

" nothing-oh" Draco eyes widened as his eyes fell over Harry's prominent bulge. They remained in a moment of silence where Harry looked anywhere but Draco's face while Draco found it hard to resist to not stare at Harry's pants.

" i- I don't know how it happened- think you moaned and I've just have had pretty off days and somehow- nmph" it was too late for Harry to continue that sentence since Draco had shoved harry inside the bathroom, pining against the sink and kissing him over the lips. One of his hands making its way under Harry's shirt while the other one enclosing him between him and the sink. Travelling his hands on Draco's neck he made the kiss more heated and rough. It was beyond anything Harry could've ever imagined Draco's soft lips could've done but once his lips were against Harry's, it had aroused a wild sensation in him to have him right here and right then. The kiss became more sloppier with each second, not hurriedly but am urgency to discover what else he could do. The hand pressed against Harry's chest under his shirt was exploring the deeper depths of his chest and slowly moving downwards, Which continuously made Harry release moans he had only thought he could produce with a man. As if the heat was unbearable between them, Draco separated for air and travelled from Harry's lips down to his jawline, pressing small kisses before he has finally reached his neck and pressed warm kisses.

" ar- fuck - you sure ?" Harry moaned as Draco resumed kissing and licking over Harry's neck. His grip on Draco's neck had travelled into his hair and grasping enough to make him lose his control.

" I've always wanted you Harry " Draco moaned in his ear. He would've collapsed on the ground if he wasn't pressed against by Draco's body. Biting his lip he suppressed his desperate moans only for a few seconds until he found it hard to resist when he had managed to kiss Harry's sweet spot and initiated giving him a hickey. Losing control Harry rutted softly against Draco in a desperate attempt to gain any sort of friction for relief which made both of the men's moan in pure ecstacy of the moment and deepening kisses.

" you want to move to bed ?" Draco asked as he went back to kissing Harry's lips.

" thought you'd never asked " Harry mumbled against his lips and held onto Draco's neck, wrapping his legs around his body as Draco placed his hands under his thigh and carried them onto the bed and resumed kissing each other, losing one article of clothing one by one until none were left.

It was the night that had officially ruined their friendship, taking things to next level , doing things to each other they had only dreamt off but who would've known that their dreams of having the other men pressed against the bed, desperately moaning their name would've come true.

Requests open

I couldn't come up with any better idea for this prompt. Sorry if it seemed rushed.

Day 15- nobody can ever be you | Day 17- their own song

[alphawolfanimates2]

Brain go brrrrr at midnight-

Anyway, short story I randomly came up with

(Context: Giants wiped humans to near extinction, with human population being at about 3% of their original number. Tubbo, Tommy, and Ranboo are all human children who ran away from their adoptive parents due to their house being found by giants. They're all preteens, Tommy being 11 with Tubbo and Ranboo being 12. Phil, Techno, and Wilbur are giants who have been curious about humans. They've never met one before, due to there being so little left, but they would never even think about hurting them. They feel bad about what giants have done to humans, especially with no reason to. So what will they do when they meet three human children in a forest, one of them being injured?)

Tw//slight mentions of blood

Tommy sat on a large rock, the small but deep gash on his leg stinging badly. Tubbo wiped the blood off of it while Ranboo went through their first aid kit to find the bandages.

"Tommy, how the hell did you manage this? You fell, you didn't get slashed bya knife!" Tubbo exclaimed. Tommy scoffed. "There were sharp rocks! It isn't my fault!" Tubbo rolled his eyes. "You need to watch where you're going. Ranboo, can you hurry a bit? He's losing blood quickly."

Ranboo laughed nervously. "About that... I think we're out." He said. Tubbo looked at him and said "You've gotta be kidding me." Tommy looked like he was about to pass out. "Guys, can you find something at least? I'm not feeling to good right now."

**Meanwhile, in some other part of the forest**

Phil, Techno, and Wilbur wanted to go on a walk through the forest. They were double the heights of the trees, so it wasn't much of a hassle. Suddenly, the heard a small whimper come from a little ways away. If there was any other noise, they probably wouldn't have heard it at all.

"Did you guys hear that?" Wilbur asked. The other two shrugged it off, saying it was probably just a random animal. Wilbur sighed. "Well I'm gonna go check it out." Phil looks over at him, not surprised seeing as Will was always curious. "Alright, just make sure to catch up to us." He replied. Will just nodded and started walking towards the place he heard the noise.

It was only a few minutes until he found what exactly was making the noise. Three humans were in the forest, one seemingly injured. They all looked like children, too. His heart hurt at the sight of the humans. Suddenly, the injured one passed out. "Holy shit, you guys have to come over here!" He called to Techno and Phil

**Back with the humans**

"Holy shit, you guys have to come over here!"

Tubbo and Ranboo whipped around at the voice and we're horrified to see a giant peering down at them. They would've had a chance of running away if Tommy wasn't unconscious. And they didn't feel like leaving their brother behind.

Both of them were terrified enough, but it only worsened when two more giants came into view. The other giants looked down and seemed surprised, and.... Slightly worried?

One of the giants, the one wearing green, knelt down near them. Ranboo and Tubbo backed up protectively to shield their injured brother from view, even though they knew the giants had already seen him.

"Hey, it's ok, we're not gonna hurt you." The giant said. They didn't believe him. They couldn't. With all that's happened to humans because of giants, that has to be a lie. The giant slowly moved his hand towards the three humans. They flinched away, their fear showing. He immediately pulled his hand back.

**Giant's POV***

Phil reached his hand down, only to bring it right back after seeing the humans flinch. They were already scared, no need to worsen it. Phil looked up at his sons, who looked back down at him with worry. They couldn't just leave them here. Another giant is garanteed to find them, and chances are they won't be as friendly.

Phil took a deep breath and began to explain what they need to do. "Look, I know you're scared, but if we don't bring you back, another giant is going to find you, and that won't turn out well. Plus, we have some bandages at home, and it seems like your friend needs them. So, may I pick you up?" The humans seemed to calm down a bit, which caused the giants to let out sighs of relief.

The humans glanced at each other, before and nodded. The smaller human looked up and said "Alright, I guess..."

**Wow we switching POVs again**

Tubbo and Ranboo looked at each other. They were thinking the same thing. They had nothing else to lose. The giants could just pick them up either way. Plus, none of the giants' faces showed any malice towards them, so they agreed.

The giant who had been talking to them slowly curled his fingers around the humans, carefully not squeezing too hard. He then picked up Tommy, who was completely limp in his hand. He cautiously put him in the same hand as the other two, and the giants started to walk somewhere.

They hoped they made the right decision.

[willwriteforhugs]

it’s not okay- hwang hyunjin

boyfriend! hyunjin x reader- one shot !

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst, a little fluffy, full of hyunjin-is-overprotective-syndrome

synopsis: when a stranger on the street makes you uncomfortable with his romantic advances, it takes everything hyunjin has not to kill him right then and there.

warnings: instance of harassment, a *brief* physical altercation, arguing, some cursing

a/n: this fic was requested by a lovely anon! sorry about the wait- i hope you and everyone else enjoy this one. i definitely got carried away with this, but hopefully it’s still what was requested lol. also, if you all have any other requests, feel free to send them in. i like to know i’m writing what you all want to see.

one last thing: a quick disclaimer- all of the events in this story are fictional, and should be taken with a grain of salt. everything that happens here is just my own interpretation of the situation i was presented with. anyways, thank you sm for reading! 

- - - 

the streets around you bustle with noise. mothers calling for their wandering children, street vendors shouting out prices... the sheer volume of it almost overwhelms you. at your side, your right hand tightens around your boyfriend’s. the last thing you want is to lose him in the crowd... he gives you a gentle squeeze back. words weren’t exchanged, but you understand what he meant: it’s okay, i’m right here.

you really are not a fan of crowds- you never have been, but hyunnie loves the market- and you do too, when it isn’t this packed. but he’s been so busy lately,  and the two of you hardly get to go on dates anymore... so when he’d proposed this as how he wanted to spend the afternoon, you couldn’t help but agree to it.

you glance up at him, thankful for the opportunity of distraction. you and hyunjin have been together for more than six months now- and god, you have never been more in love. you’d been in love before- or at least, you think you had. but being with hyunjin... it’s just not the same. the feelings you have for him are ten times the feelings you’d had for anyone back in high school. of course, maybe it’s just because he’s so damn beautiful...

today, for a simple market day, your counterpart is dressed casually. he’s in a plain hoodie and jeans, with his shoulder length hair tucked into a beanie. his face is bare, and you can’t help but smile just by looking at him. 

your boyfriend smiles back, looking slightly baffled. “is there something on my face?”

you snort and shake your head. “i can’t just look at you?”

he narrows his eyes playfully. “absolutely not. it makes me suspicious.”

you roll your eyes. “you spend too much time with the boys. i’m not gonna flick you, you know.” you pause. “or shove tissues in your mouth.”

at this, hyunjin huffs a laugh. “alright, that one’s true.”

hyunjin then leads you into a left turn, heading towards a vendor selling fresh hotteok. you follow willingly, realizing that you are indeed a bit hungry. as always, he knew exactly what you needed before even you did.

as your boyfriend places an order, you wander a few feet, wanting to glance into the stall next to you. in order to do so, you have to slip behind the first stall, into a small alleyway that borders the back part of the vendor lines. you peer over into the stall you were looking for. they’re selling handmade dishes- and from what you can see as you strain you neck over the stall, they’re absolutely gorgeous. dainty tea sets made of impossibly thin porcelain line the tables. the intricate floral designs catch your eye, and you know hyunjin would love to look at them. you turn quickly, mouth already forming his name.

“hyunjin-ah, i- oh!” you interrupt yourself with your surprise. in your rush, you’d turned around and run right into another person. your face floods with heat, and if you could, you would have shriveled up and died right there.

“i’m so sorry,” you mumble, bowing frantically. you eyes burn holes into the ground. “i wasn’t paying attention.”

“it’s fine, really.” a masculine voice replies. 

you look up, shocked to see that the person you’d run into is a man, and he looks to be around your age. “oh. okay.”

the man is tall- taller than hyunjin, even. he’s got an angry look to him, and you take a step back. but he just smirks. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

he leans against the wall, crossing his arms together. you watch as his eyes rake over you and your body, and you shrink away.

you press your lips together, and the anxiety from before begins to claw it’s way back into your mind. “it’s fine, seriously.” your breathing is uneven, and you desperately want to get back to hyunjin. “but i kinda have to go...”

the man, who is blocking your way, doesn’t budge. “so soon? why don’t you stay and talk with me? you’re so cute, i just gotta get your number, babe.”

your body jerks in reaction to the pet name. who the hell is he calling baby?

you inhale sharply. “please- can i just get by? i’m really alright.”

the stranger takes a step towards you. “come on, why are you so shy? it’s harmless flirting, love...” he reaches out and takes a hold of your wrist. your facade crumbles, and your vision begins to close. you become hyper-aware of how alone you are back in this alleyway. you quickly jerk your hand back, and he relents, freeing your hand. “so jumpy! why? how about we go get a coffee? i know a place, it’s just ten booths-”

“who the hell are you?”

the voice is sharp and temperamental, and beautifully familiar. you hear yourself breathe a sigh of relief. hyunjin's here. thank god.

your boyfriend is now standing a few feet away, sporting an expression of anger and wariness. his eyes flit to the man, then to you. though he doesn’t say it, you can practically hear his voice, asking if you’re okay.

the strange man- who is still standing far too close- speaks up, voice brimming with cockiness. “why do you care?”

you physically cringe at those words. good luck with that one, dude. you just threw gasoline on an open flame.

“get the fuck away from my girlfriend.” hyunjn’s voice is low, but the impact of the words is louder than bombs. his face has gone from wary to furious. “don’t make me say it again.”

the creep takes a step away from you, moving towards hyunjin. “why are you so pissy, pretty boy? got that much to lose?”

you can see the clockwork in your boyfriend’s mind turning. calculating the outcomes. 

before anyone can move to stop you, you dart across the apparent no-man’s-land, coming to a stop at hyunjin’s left shoulder. you reach out and rest a hand on it, hoping the action conveys your feelings. when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward and hurriedly whisper in his ear; “please, hyunjin-ah. i’m alright. let’s just go.”

the boy brushes your hand away, and maintains his silence.

“hyunjin.” you say, louder this time. “it’s okay.”

this time, his narrowed eyes flash. “what-no! it’s not okay!” he swivels to face you. “what about that was okay?!”

your chest clenches, and your hand slips forward to clutch at his shirt. your voice comes out cracked. “please, let’s just go.”

the stranger watches the whole interaction with an amused smile on his lips, and the looks sends chills up your spine.

after a moment, hyunjin takes a deep breath and raises his chin. “you’re right, y/n-ah, i’m sorry. let’s just go, my love.”

as the two of you turn to go, the stranger shouts at hyunjin’s retreating back. “where are you going? i didn’t even get your bitch’s number!”

your skin goes cold, and you can feel your boyfriend turn to stone next to you. you inhale, reaching out to stop what you know is inevitable. 

hyunjin makes a slow turn on his heel. his gaze is icy, and his tone is even colder. “what the hell did you just say?”

the other man scoffs, and it randomly occurs to you that he might be drunk. or, you think; maybe he’s just a pervert, y/n. 

“i said, i didn’t get your bitch’s phone number.”

hyunjin is silent and frozen for a moment. then, with no preamble, he lunges forward. 

“hyunjin!” you yelp. but you know- you know there’s no stopping what’s next.

his punch hits the man square in the jaw, and his opponent goes stumbling. you lurch forward, terrified of this escalating. 

without looking, hyunjin catches you with his arm and gently shoves you back. 

he refocuses on the man on the ground, who is struggling to get up. when he gets close, hyunjin pushes him back down. you watch as he comes to a crouch in front of the fallen man. he hisses his words through his teeth: “don’t you ever say that shit. calling my girlfriend a bitch... unless you want to get your poor fucking ass handed to you, you never say shit like that again.”

your mouth hangs open in shock, and you stumble forward again, pulling your boyfriend away before he does something he regrets. you drag him back through the booths, and you emerge back at the front of the hotteok stand.

as soon as the connection breaks, hyunjin’s anger disappears, and he looks almost surprised. he reaches over and grasps your hand. “y/n- are you alright?”

you sigh, and even as your eyes sting slightly, you nod your head. the creepy man hadn’t followed the two of you, but you still feel the need to run. you release a shaky breath. 

hyunjin leans down and plants a light but lingering kiss of your forehead. when he pulls away, he sighs against your hair. “i’m sorry,” he whispers.

“for what?” you prompt, whispering back.

“for getting carried away. i...i didn’t mean to.”

“it’s okay. i know.” you lean away to meet his eyes. “besides, he was scaring me. so... thank you.”

he offers a bittersweet smile. “okay, baby...” he pauses for a second. “let’s go home?”

you allow a real smile and nod. “yeah. i’d like that.” you pause, deciding to tease him a little. “will you promise to stay and cuddle?”

at this, your lover’s moment of melancholy breaks too. “yes..” he fakes a groan. “if i have to...”

you reach down to hold his hand as the two of you begin walking, initial plans long forgotten. you begin to bicker back. “oh, please. you really act like you don’t enjoy skinship with me.”

he pauses. “how do you know it’s not just to get in your pants?”

you gasp and smack his arm. “don’t say that! i’ll never sleep with you again if you say shit like that!” 

hyunjin laughs, and his real, genuine smile warms your heart. “well then i guess i’ll stop. but only because of that threat.”

“oh, really?” you raise your eyebrows.

he gives up immediately, his forehead crinkling slightly. “no. i love you, y/n. i really do. and i promise i will give you all the snuggles when we get back.”

you nod, then lean your head on his arm, inhaling his scent. you’ve never been more grateful for him. 

the two of you continue walking, hand in hand. it isn’t for another few minutes that he finally breaks the silence. “so- what do you want for dinner?”

the two of you burst into laughter when you realize you’d never even gotten your hotteok.

[jae-daddy]

Play (6) (finale)

jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six (finale) masterlist

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung  genre: friends, angst, jealousy  plot: you and jaebum have been really great friends. things have been going smoothly because neither of you were in a real relationship, flings? sure, but girlfriends/boyfriends? no. so when Jaebum starts going out with Emma (a bitch), you can’t help but act out <3 a/n:  we’ve made it to the end! i had to stop it here or else this would continue for five other parts, and I don't know, maybe they’ll be a part two to it. hope y’all like it.truly not edited <3

“Fuck yes!” You moaned, your head stinging as he pulled you back by your hair. His hips pounding into you, his dick hitting deep inside you with every thrust.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck!” You moaned as he placed a hand on your hip, pushing it down as his dick started drilling into you faster.

“Just like that,” you breathed, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your neck. You placed it there, your hands holding his wrist. He leaned forward, his front pressing you into the mattress as his hips kept thrusting into you relentlessly.

“Is that good?”

You closed your eyes, imagining a familiar dark-haired boy behind you. You thought of his dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His large hands chocking your neck, the other reaching up to squeeze your tits. HIs hot breath falling over your ear.

“You like that slut?” His grunts into your ear, before biting it.

“Fuck,” you moaned, reaching back to the guy behind you. He responds zealously. Pushing your head into the pillow in front of you. Your hair wrapping around his hands as he pushes you into the bed. “Fuck. Fuck.”

You hear him moan somewhere in the distance, and you’re close. You’re so fucking close.

“Fuck,” he groans. His strokes getting sloppy, and with a grunt, he finishes. “Fuck.”

You flipped onto your back, staring at the ceiling as he took the condom off.

He was about to hop back into bed when you spoke, “I’m actually tired and I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“It’s only five in the afternoon right now,” he replied. You got up on your elbows to look at your latest Tinder match stand there at the edge of your bed.

“Yeah, early night,” you nodded, not even trying hard to hide the fact that you were lying.

He snorted with disbelief, before nodding. His pride was hurt and bruised as he collected his pants and slipped back into it, “I heard about you, you know?”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you lay back on your bed and stared at the empty ceiling.

“They said you were a bitch,” he chuckled as he grabbed his shirt. He pulled it over him and reached for his socks, “But they said the sex would be worth it.”

You closed your eyes, waiting for him to stop talking and leave you alone.

“They were right though,” he laughed. You felt him stand at the edge of the bed and look at you once again.

You didn’t move or open your eyes.

You remained there, unmoving. Your eyes sealed tightly as you tried to stop your chin from trembling.

After a long second, he finally left. The door quietly clicked shut behind him.

The tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down the side of your face. You felt each one, warm and blue; they gathered around your ears.

Your heart hurt.

Jaebum and you hadn’t talked since that night at dinner. He didn’t say anything to you, and you couldn't bring yourself to message him.

He never said it out loud.

You both never said it out loud, but you knew.

You knew it was over.

The friendship that Jaebum and you shared, the love, it was all over. He was no longer going to be in your corner anymore.

You were no longer going to have deep conversations in the middle of the night about your dreams with him. You wouldn’t be able to walk into a cafe and look for his face lighting up as he spotted you.

He wasn't going to be there to hug you anymore. He won’t be there to stroke your hair as you cried about things he couldn’t understand. He won’t come and hide in your bed from whatever was going on in his life anymore.

He won’t ever walk into your room again and look at the bed. He won’t look at you with a knowing smile as he shook his head. He won’t tease you about missing a bed frame anymore.

He won’t tease you anymore.

He won’t be there existing next to you anymore.

He was gone from your life.

He was gone.

And you missed him.

You rolled onto your side and pulled the duvet over you.

Your body shook as you cried harder. Your heart felt bruised; it felt purple and blue, with opens cuts bleeding red and magenta. It hurt.

You hurt.

And you missed him.

You missed him like your heart was no longer there. You missed him like your heart remained at the table you left him. You missed him like your heart stayed in that dirty bathroom of the club he kissed you in. You missed him like your heart still belonged with Jaebum.

You missed him like you loved him.

Terribly. Hauntingly. Desperately.

You missed him.

You loved Jaebum.

Three years later

You didn’t realise time could pass by so quickly and tortuously slow at once.

It was truly amazing how every second you lived through stretched into a millennium. But when you turned around to look back at your life, the time had rushed past you and you couldn’t hold on to a single moment.

A lot had changed in the past years.

You had moved out of the house you used to flat in. You found yourself a decent studio apartment in a safe location near to your work. It was a new form of freedom living by yourself, but some nights it got so lonely you're certain you were losing your sanity.

The walls of your apartment closed in around you. The air of the room thickened as it choked around your throat. It grew sharp teeth in the form of loneliness and it sunk it’s sharp fangs into your skin every second you remained in that apartment trying to pretend away the gaping hole in your life.

Your life was going great.

Anyone could see that. Anyone looking at your life would say you had it all.

You had changed jobs after a company scouted you seeing your research. You finally went ahead and finished your passion project. And now you did lectures at universities and schools. You even had an interview with a magazine a few months ago.

You had friends too.

You had made new friends at work and during the final stages of your research.

Not to mention, Park Jinyoung had taken it upon himself to not let you rot in your sadness and die alone in your apartment. He would show up randomly at irregular intervals and listen to you cry.

From the outside, the past years had treated you well. You were killing it.

But once again, you found yourself at your stool at the bar near your apartment.

The bartender didn’t even ask for your order as he slid you a glass of coke with lots of ice, “How are you doing today?”

“I am still alive,” you murmured, disappointment in your voice as you peered up at him. “How has your day been, Youngjae?”

“It went good,” he nodded, a grin blooming on his lips as looked at you. “I got a call back from one of my auditions this morning.”

You gasped, beaming at him, “Youngjae! Oh my god! That’s amazing! Finally!”

He chuckled softly, before he added, the anxiousness evident in his voice, “Let’s not jump the gun.”

You smiled at him, but knocked on the wooden counter, “Touchwood.”

“Touchwood,” he knocked back.

A customer called, taking his attention away from you.

You sat at the bar, alone, as you watched the couple who had just entered the bar. They looked happy; they were laughing. You can’t remember the last time you had truly laughed.

You turned back to watch the television playing a rugby game. You brought the ice-cold coke to your lips, chugging it to drown the sob bubbling in your throat.

God, your period was well on its way.

You were so emotional for no reason at all. It wasn’t like you missed him.

You didn’t. You really didn’t.

No, you did miss him.

But it wasn’t like Jaebum was the only thing that could ever make you happy in life. No person can do that to you, no person should have that much power over someone else... right?

You got up from your seat suddenly feeling overwhelmed in the room full of people. You took out the five-dollar note and left it at the counter before calling out to Youngjae, “I’m heading out.”

“So early?”

“Yeah,” you stammered, breathless. You felt as if the whole bar was staring at you. You needed to get out. “I got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, y/n,” Youngjae smiled at you brightly. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you breathed as you pushed the door open. You weren’t sure if Youngjae heard you as you rushed out the door.

You let the frosty winter wind bite your skin. You welcomed it’s bitterness, praying it took your mind off the uneasiness of your mind.

You thought back to the other day at Target when you ran into Kevin and his wife.

“We’re looking for a gift for Emma’s wedding,” Kevin told you before his wife cut in.

“As a joke,” she clarified, but you didn’t care. “Her real gift is actually from...”

Her voice had blurred into nothingness as your mind went numb.

Emma was getting married.

Emma and Jaebum were getting married.

You took off your coat and held it loosely as you continued strutting down the street. The wind was merciless and harsh as it seeped its icy fingers through the threads of your flimsy shirt tracing goosebumps over your skin.

Your cheeks felt cold, the tip of your nose wet and your lips parched.

You welcomed the cruel winter and let it blanket you.

You will always remain as lonely as you are right now.

That son of a bitch.

After you stopped fucking people. After you stopped replacing the moments where you felt overwhelmed with emotions by bodies. After you stopped fucking your way out of your feelings, you realised he was right.

You were lonely.

You are lonely, and it seemed as if you would remain that way forever.

You wiped the tear that escaped and cursed as you walked into the shop you would normally walk past.

You hadn’t gotten drunk in two years.

You had a few occasional glasses here and there, socially, but never by yourself. You had decided to stop. You had decided to treat yourself better.

But tonight, everything about tonight was too much.

It was too overwhelming, you needed an escape. You needed something to help you stop thinking about Emma in a white dress and Jaebum waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

You needed something to stop Yugyeom’s face sneering at you. You needed something to make him stop saying that you would be alone.

He smirked at you, “Jaebum is getting married, and look at you. You’re just going to drink away your problems. Typical.”

You grabbed the cheapest wine with the highest alcohol percentage not even caring about the taste. You placed it on the counter and watched the guy ring it up. Your eyes fell to the liquor behind him.

Shame filled you as spoke, “Actually, can I just have the vodka?”

The man replied with a gruff, picking up the vodka and ringing it up instead. He placed it in a bag as you swiped your card. You didn’t look at him, embarrassed, as if he knew how much of a failure you were, “Thanks.”

You gripped the bottle tight in your hands as your feet rushed to your apartment. You needed to get there quickly.

You were huffing by the time you reached the gate outside your apartment. You watched the person swipe his card and jiggle the gate with frustration, trying to get it to open.

You took a step closer to them as you cleared your throat, the person turned around, his hoodie and mask covering his face. You scratched your neck anxiously as you motioned to the gate, “May I?”

The person stepped back, and you took his card, “Are you new here?”

He nodded.

You saw the light go green accepting his card, and continued. You lifted the gate off the ground and pushed it with your shoulder, and just like magic, the gate slid open, “You gotta do this cause it gets caught when it’s been raining. They’ve been saying that they’ll fix it for the past year but... here we are, still unfixed.”

You handed him his card back and walked into the building. You felt him follow you, trying not to get too close to not creep you out. You appreciated the gesture.

You impatiently tapped your shoe against the polished tiles as you waited for the elevator. Finally, it arrived and you hoped in. The guy followed you and pressed the button to his floor.

You looked at it, it was yours too.

Should you be frightened? Could this be a stalker?

Oh god.

You had enough problems tonight, the last thing you needed was to get murdered, or worse, trafficked.

The doors dinged open and you stayed behind him. You watched him turn towards the direction of your apartment.

You trailed behind walking slower. You watched as he took out his keys and stopped in front of the apartment opposite yours.

The door clicked open smoothly, and he walked in closing the door behind him.

You let out a breath of relief, and chuckled as you walked to your door, “I really thought I was going to die.”

You were about to open your door when the door behind you swang opened.

You froze, locking your door, as you remained outside your apartment.

“Hi,” he said. Your heart tugged at how familiar the voice sounded. He spoke again, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You stared at your wooden door for a moment, shocked. You felt tears prickle your eyes and you stared at the ceiling as you let out a long puff of air.

You turned around, trying to hold back the tears as you smiled, “You really had to choose the most creepiest thing to say, didn’t you?”

He laughed, and you watched him.

The delicate melody found its way to your ears, slowly travelling somewhere deep inside your heart. It felt a trail of hazy pink as it ran through your body.

It sounded like honey, it glowed golden like the bright stars, warming a part of you that had been cold for so long as it settled in a corner deep within your heart.

As you heard him laugh, you breathed, and finally, you were alive.

Jaebum’s eyes rested on you, a smile lingering on his lips as he watched you back. He leaned against the frame of his door and took you in carefully.

“You look good, y/n,” he spoke, quiet.

“You too, Jaebum,” you replied, savouring his name on your tongue once again.

It felt as if time had stopped for him three years ago. He looked exactly how you remembered him, but so much more handsome. He looked perfected now, his face sharp and strong. His eyes dark and glistening with all the things he’s learnt over the years.

His black hair falling over his pale forehead, as he took in his lower lip between his teeth.

“Are you going to drink that alone?” he gestured to the brown paper bag in your hand, hiding the vodka. You peered back up at him, and let out a snort at how ridiculous this was.

Almost three years of being so good and the one day you were about to slip, Im Jaebum finds you.

“I don’t know if I was actually going to drink,” you shrugged with all honesty. Your mind kept going back and forth between finishing this whole bottle tonight and draining it all down the drain as you ran home.

“Are you at least going to offer?” Jaebum quirked an eyebrow at you, a mocking smile tugging his lips.

You smirked at him, teasing back, “My mommy said not to invite strangers into my house.”

“I can always invite you to mine.”

“You can kill me just, if not more easily there,” you replied, a smile on your lips at how easy this was.

How all it took was one look, one word and you both had slipped back to how you were.

“I guess it’s your choice where you want to be killed then,” he shrugged, a corner of his lip quirking up as he noticed you roll your eyes.

“I would prefer dying in my own apartment. You would probably feed me to your cats,” you snorted as you turned to unlock your door. You pushed it open as you walked in, “You still have cats right?”

“Yes, I have a problem,” he answered, his voice close to you. You turned to find him standing close to you. He stared down at you, and you immediately looked away as you felt your cheeks blush.

“Hey,” Jaebum exclaimed, surprised. You turned to find him pointing to the closet where you had placed your bed, creating a mini-bedroom, “You have a bed frame!”

You laughed, “I’m a proper adult now!”

Jaebum turned towards you.

You felt his eyes watch you intently. You tried to ignore it as you took out two glasses, but your eyes would always end up falling back on him.

You poured vodka, coke and ice in one glass, and coke and ice in the other.

Jaebum rose an eyebrow as you slid the former towards him. You shrugged, “Not drinking tonight.”

Drinking tonight would be a dangerous game. It would make this night more troublesome than it already was, even as you remained sober. The last thing you wanted was you drunk sobbing as you hugged Jaebum telling him how much you’ve missed him.

No way in hell, you would let that happen. Not tonight.

“I read your article in the magazine,” Jaebum said as he settled onto the sofa and reached for the remote. You settled on the other end, before groaning and taking the remote of him.

“Can you watch horror movies now?”

“I always could!” He protested as you rolled your eyes smiling as you scanned through Netflix.

“How come you were reading a review magazine?” You asked, stopping at a good old animation movie. Jaebum nodded, telling you to play it.

“Because it had your interview,” he replied as if it was that simple.

But it wasn’t that simple. The magazine was targeted to academics and professionals in that field. A writer like Im Jaebum would not just find it randomly at a grocery store or at a dentist’s waiting room.

You bit your lip as you stared at the screen, “I liked the second book more, but the second half of the third book really pulled through.”

“Really? People liked the third book the best,” he answered. If you could see him smiling like an idiot from the corner of your eyes, as the tips of his ears got red.

“Maybe it’s because you killed Hera,” you remarked, making Jaebum laugh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “It was probably that.”

“We’re going to neighbours now,” you jeered, as you both stared at the tv screen displaying the ending credits.

“Seems like we are,” Jaebum replied. The glass you had given him at the beginning of the movie barely touched. “How do you feel about that?”

How do you feel about that?

Hmm, let’s think about that.

How do you feel about Jaebum and Emma living across the hallway from you? How do you feel about them fucking, cooking and cleaning together like a sweet happily married couple as you tried to escape your loneliness between your apartment and the local bar?

Yeah, you weren’t too hyped about it.

“How do you feel?” You asked instead.

“I asked first,” Jaebum protested.

You ignored him, “How is Emma going to feel?”

“Emma?”

“Your soon to be wife,” you urged, as you took a sip of your coke that tasted warm and watery now, “Congrats, by the way. I heard the news from Kevin, thanks for the invites.”

Jaebum stared at you as he pursed his lips, as he held back a grin.

You could feel him judging you, staring at you like you were a pathetic little lonely girl living in an apartment all alone with no one, not even a pet.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you growled at him, as you pouted. Jaebum’s lips lifted into a smile as he closed his eyes, letting out a huff. You whined, “I said stop.”

“Y/n, Emma and I aren’t together,” he said each word slowly and carefully. His soft lips grew into a shit-eating smile as he continued, “We broke that night at dinner.”

“Oh.”

Oh my god.

Holy shit.

Your heart was racing. It was beating too fast for this to be healthy.

You tried to hold back the smile blooming on your lips, but you failed and pursed your lips instead.

Okay, so... AH!

“Wow,” your mouth was moving, but you didn’t know what you were doing. You lifted your arm to look at your left wrist. There was no watch there, but you still went on and said, “It is getting late. We should go to bed.”

Jaebum laughed, at your absurdity, “Are you trying to kick me out?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes, but the smile on his lips told you he knew how fucking nervous you were right now.

You literally had no control over what you are doing, and how to process the information Jaebum had just provided you.

“I have a meeting tomorrow,” you stammered.

You cursed yourself. You shouldn’t be kicking him out, you should be talking to him.

What is he doing now? Is he single?

What’s going to happen now?

Oh my fucking god.

All it took was three hours with Im Jaebum and your world was swirling into a tornado of emotions, excitement and liveness once again.

“It’s a public holiday,” he told you, grinning.

“I work for assholes,” you stuttered through your lie.

No, you don’t. They were the nicest people and even gave paid mental health days too.

Jaebum got up, letting you breathe. But he was still laughing as he held up his hands in surrender, “All right. All right, I’ll leave.”

You walked him to your door and opened it for him. He shook his head, smiling at you as he walked out.

You watched him about to disappear and had a fight within yourself. A part of you, the bigger larger part of you wanted you to stop him. It wanted you to ask him to stay. It wanted you to brush the hair on his forehead away, and then kiss him.

But the other part of you, the sensible, the reasonable one, told you to let him leave. You needed time to think about it. You needed time and space to process this.

What did this mean? What were you going to do now?

Your lips pouted, the tip of your tongue lifting as you were about to stop him when a hand landed on the edge of the door and prayed it open.

Im Jaebum appeared from behind the door. He leaned down, bringing his towards your face.

God, he was beautiful.

You saw the golden flecks in his eyes, and your heart swirled like a flower petal flowing the spring breeze. The golden stroked were just as how you remembered them. Each stroke still carried the same warmth as it did those years ago. The deep brown of his eyes still drew you in closer.

It still made your heart flutter the same as before.

You could still close your eyes and paint every stroke of his beautiful eyes.

His eyes travelled down to your lips before meeting your eyes. Your chest heaved as he leaned closer.

You felt his minty breath kiss your lips, and you breathed him in.

“I saw the posts,” he whispered, as you gripped the door to support your weakening knees, “with you and Jinyoung.”

You held his gaze, your cheeks tainting pink, “Did you see the posts with him and his girlfriend?”

Jaebum stared at you, smiling before he bit his lip, “No. I guess I missed them.”

He leaned back, straightening, but his eyes remained on you.  

“I thought so,” you whispered, biting your lip.

You wanted to kiss him.

“Goodnight Jaebum,” you breathed instead.

Jaebum’s gaze lowered to your lips once again and you noticed the way his knuckles tightened on the door. His eyes met yours again, as he swallowed heavily. He smiled, his lips tight, his voice pained, “Goodnight, y/n.”

You smiled back, closing the door-

“No, stop.”

You froze, as you peered up at Jaebum.

He looked down at you. His eyes wild, as he let out a hushed sigh.

“No more playing around,” he told you, his voice grave and serious. “I like you.”

Your heart stopped, but you snorted, “We haven’t seen each other in years, Jaebum.”

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning then,” Jaebum nodded, talking to himself more than he was to you. He nodded, determined as he looked into your eyes once again. “Let’s do it how we should have from the start.”

You chuckled, the smile on your lips not going anywhere no matter how hard you tried to stop.

“Y/n,” Jaebum spoke, his voice soft and nervous. He took your hands in his gently, as he stared into your eyes with the feeling of sunshine on a winter morning, “You are beautiful, funny and smart. You are everything I have ever wanted, and I know I am not much, but if you give me the chance, I promise to become the man you want me to be. I promise to make you laugh, to comfort you, to watch your favourite shows over and over again. I promise I to love you.

“Just take a chance on me. Do me the honour of going on a date with me?”

“Really, Jae,” you rolled your eyes trying to blink away the tears, as you snorted. But a few slipped down as you looked up to meet his melting brown eyes, “As a best-selling novelist, that’s the best you could do?”

“You hate poetry,” Jaebum laughed before he sobered and leaned in closer to you. You held your breath as his nose nudged yours, “A date? You and me?”

“Everything right from scratch,” You asked, as you took a step towards him. “No more playing?”

Jaebum smiled, placing his hands on your waist as he pulled you in closer. He nodded, “No more play, baby.”

You giggled, as you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips onto his.

He kissed you back, with a longing, a need, that you understood well.

Jaebum had missed you just as much as you missed him.

He chuckled against your lips, as he walked you backwards and closed the door behind him, “Maybe start from scratch tomorrow?”

You nodded, your hands already fidgeting with the edge of his shirt underneath his hoodie, “From tomorrow.”

Jaebum broke the kiss as he lifted you up, and spun you around. A surprised giggle fell your lips as you held on to him tightly.

You felt the cool marble beneath you as he placed you on the counter.

“This was meant to happen you know?”

“What was?”

“Us,” he gestured between the two of you. You smirked up at him as you pulled off his hoodie and shirt in one go. Jaebum placed his hands on your cheeks, as he kissed you softly, “Us, this. It was meant to happen.”

Jaebum looked at you and whispered, “I love you.”

// 

thank you of all of y’all for reading. i hope you enjoyed the story! i know the book is a bit messy but it is what it is. i just wanted to let y’all know that often we are shamed or made to feel uncomfortable with what we do with our bodies sexually. i just want yall to know that fuck what others think, it’s your body, your choice. you decide what you want to do, who you want to do. just be safe and take care. love y’all, thanks again for reading. you are worth a million stars. <3 

lol (lots of love), B. <3

[heaven-in-a-wild-flower]

Congratulations on 100 followers! Here for the game: 💙 for Helnik! (but not sad please!)

Thanks! <3 <3 <3

Nina

Nina is confused, to say the least. Matthias has been vanishing off somewhere every few days a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. From 6 pm to 8 pm. At first, when she asked him if they could go for a movie and he said he was busy, she let it go. Then he came late for one of their at-home dinner dates, which she was a bit annoyed at but promptly forgot about it when he wrapped his arms around her and just held her for a few minutes. But slowly, she started to notice the pattern. Same three days. Same hours.

Whenever she asked, he'd have an excuse prepared. Whenever she called during those two hours he'd pick up and repeat the excuse. She's considered the obvious options. A surprise for her. But both her birthday and their anniversary has since passed and he's still not stopped whatever this is. An extra job. But he never has work from this elusive "job" so she's dismissed that too. A proposal. But they're already married so what would he even propose? And why would it take this long? Plus she knows that Matthias is not the type to take big life decisions without discussing it with her (they discussed the idea of marriage months before he proposed. She loved that he wouldn't do it without asking her first).

She has even considered the worst, most terrible thing, an affair. She dutifully sniffed his clothes for a smell of a new perfume and peered at them carefully to search for a differently coloured hair strand. When neither turned up, she was relieved but not too surprised, she didn't really think Matthias would do that to her.

She's tried all sorts of ways to figure out what it is. She's tried following him many many times yet he always loses her somehow. Out of desperation she even asked Inej once and he somehow managed to hide from her too! She's running out of patience and has decided to confront him tonight when he gets back from wherever it is he goes during this time. She's on her way home on this dreary Monday evening and she's already thinking of ways to bring it up. She's not too worried though, she has a few hours to think of it, it's only 5:30 pm.

Matthias

Matthias is excited for tonight. He's been prepping all day and he can't wait for Nina to come see. He's perfectly dressed for the task and is ready to go. He's also eager to end this secrecy. He knows Nina knows something is up. He's actually quite impressed that she managed to go this long without asking. He recollects her various other devious ways though, following him, even getting Inej to follow him (all he had to do was tell Inej the plan and she left him alone) and even calling him randomly to see whether he'd let something spill by mistake. He grins to himself, he loves the way her mind works.

He hears the door knob shake a bit and the sound of a key being inserted. He holds his breath as she walks in. And walks right past him into the living room, onto the sofa and collapses onto it with a sigh. He hears her muttering to herself, "oh he's gonna tell me today". He smiles and walks over to her.

"Nina."

Her eyes pop open and she looks at him as if she's seeing a ghost.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asks, bewildered.

"I live here, love," he quips, trying not to grin at her.

She narrows her eyes and is about to reply when he grabs her hand and tugs her to their dining table. She stands there gawking for a moment. Many moments. When it's been almost a minute she turns to him and seems to suddenly notice the apron he's wearing.

"You...did all this yourself?" she whispers. Even as she's looking at him, her eyes keep darting to the feast he's displayed on the table.

"I did," his voice reflecting the pride evident in his smile.

"Then...wait, is this related to your Monday-Wednesday-Friday ritual?" Her eyes are narrowed and her hands are on her waist.

"I took cooking classes, and baking ones too," he clarifies, eyes growing brighter and brighter.

"Ugh, I hate you," she groans, and then smooshes her face into his chest and wraps her arms around him. He hugs her back, feeling his excitement melt into syrupy sweet contentment.

Nina

How could he do this to her? How dare he! He can't just be this thoughtful and sweet and- oh screw this! She pulls away and presses her lips to his, trying to convey all her bittersweet emotions about this (such lies, there is not a single bitter emotion right now, she feels as if she is about to explode with all the love blooming inside her).

She kisses him, thank you and I love you and I cannot believe you did this.

And he kisses her back, I would do anything for you and I love you too and How can you not believe I'd learn to make the one thing you love as much as you love me (food, that is)?

After lots of kissing, they sit together and eat. Nina is in awe of all the wonderful things Matthias has made and Matthias is in awe of Nina, not because of how fast she manages to finish all the food, but just because.

[seacottons]

— uni with atz pt. two

notes: swearing, fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue. tags: @latte-fairytaekwoon

seonghwa — [ early edu. + developmental psych. ]

extremely organized in all aspects of his life

your bookshelf at home consists of books on developmental studies in children.

if he isn't in class or volunteering, he's either cuddling with you or reading.

stressed 24/7.

takes very pretty and neat notes.

randomly spits out facts throughout the day.

sometimes, you join him during his volunteer hours at various daycares and schools.

is all the children's favorite teacher.

extremely patient and soft-spoken when it comes to working with even the most difficult child.

also loves being called 'teacher hwa'.

"i don't know, if i were you, i would make the students call me king san."

"they'll probably end up bullying you," seonghwa replies back.

you don't know how he has the patience for the amount of children he has to take care of.

takes you picture-book shopping with him for his students.

finds himself singing nursery rhymes while cooking or cleaning.

has polaroids of you two stuck on the fridge.

brings lint rollers to work.

gets worked up in public if a parent seems too neglectful in any way.

"y/n!" he tugs at your elbow and points with his jaw to the right, "look! his kid is just spilled all that paint on the floor, and he didn't even bat an eyelash!?"

"don't intervene again, please."

"okay, but-"

the whining of metal and steel cut him off, and the two of you jump in fright at the sound of a shelf falling apart.

"some people really shouldn't have kids."

whines when he comes back home that the paint stain and glitter just won't come off his clothes no matter how many times he rubs the spots with warm water.

or how he has mulch stuck in his socks and shoes from taking the kids outdoors to play.

you somehow always end up finding a googly eye or specks of glitter under the couch.

sometimes brings home finger-paintings with numerous colorful hearts and two stick figures in the middle.

"today's assignment was to paint what makes you happy."

you also help him stitch up little felt and cotton dolls for the kids to keep.

often gets sick from working with children.

and passes it onto you by accident.

you know he's had a bad day when you ask him how it went, and his face scrunches up in pain.

stormed into your shared apartment one day and made a beeline to the bathroom.

forty minutes later, he comes out, towel wrapped around his hips, face and chest flushed, and explains that a child accidentally peed on him.

gets flustered when you laugh at his demise.

sometimes uses his teacher voice when scolding you or your mutual friends.

and you all end up teasing him more anyway.

"do you use that tone in bed too, hwa?" yeosang asks one day. mingi and yunho splutter out in disbelief, followed by loud laughter.

you choked on your bite of cake at the sudden remark.

"what did i ever do to deserve this slander," seonghwa grumbles whilst patting your back.

he often stays up late making lesson plans for both his classes and ones to implement at work as well.

takes full advantage of his teacher's discount at shops and restaurants.

sometimes brags about it to his friends to get under their skin.

"you have it easy. just watching kids and getting free food," san says one day in the middle of their game of jenga.

"it's not easy at all," you hear seonghwa reprimand the younger, and laughter rings out from the other four guests.

"you're learning about children! what's so hard-"

you had a hunch that seonghwa purposely tilted the wooden tower to tumble over an unsuspecting san.

"y/n! your boyfriend is trying to murder me!"

seonghwa paces in circles around your apartment whilst studying for an upcoming exam.

asks you to quiz him on certain materials.

"correct! okay, can you define the preoperational stag-"

"how many kids do you want to have in the future?"

"..what?"

"kids. how many do you want to have with me?" he presses further, eyes trained on your face rather intently.

"can't this conversation wait until you finish studying?"

"no. i'm too curious," he licks at his chapped lips and leans in to poke your forehead, "i need to know. this is important information. please."

yeosang — [ biology pre-med ]

met you through your mutual friend, wooyoung, who invited him to live in your shared dorm.

"you didn't tell me you have a dog?" yeosang turns to wooyoung, brow quirked up whilst pointing to the 'beware of dog' sign on one of the bedroom doors.

"oh, i don't. i just put that up to mess with y/n," wooyoung dismissively explained while making a sandwich.

is the reason why you and wooyoung haven't killed each other yet.

asked you out after five months of moving with you and wooyoung.

designated one of the kitchen's shelves as a medical supply closet.

"because wooyoung always ends up hurting himself without doing anything."

"i do not."

stress is his middle name.

constantly contemplates his life decisions.

"wooyoung! shut up! i can't finish my essay with you blabbering every damn second!"

you had to get used to the sight of a full sized anatomical skeleton in his room.

"okay, but i'm not letting you fuck me with that thing in here."

later that night, wooyoung's heart nearly burst in his chest from fright.

"yeosang! why the fuck is your skeleton in my room!?"

some nights, during dinner, yeosang slams his obnoxiously large textbooks onto the table, and insists for the two of you to quiet down while he skims over the pages a few times.

"can't you just enjoy your meal for five-"

"no. now hush."

not only does he have labs, presentations, and essays to worry about, but he also got accepted for a pre-med internship at a local hospital.

hardly goes out anymore during his free time.

most dates include cuddling on the couch or baking something in the kitchen.

stays up late at night to complete assignments.

towers of thick books decorate his nightstand.

"no, yeosang. i really don't want to see you dissecting a cat," you grimace, turning quickly and shielding your eyes from his phone.

"why not?" yeosang whines softly, hand tugging the hem of your shirt with a frown, "it's not that bad, i promise-"

he's cut off when wooyoung snatches the phone from him with a loud cry, "gross! y/n, you're letting him touch you after he touched that?! and fuck- what is that smell?"

"that's formaldehyde. now give me back my phone before i dissect you next."

you join him at the lab when he has extra work piled up.

"you look so cute with a white coat and goggles."

you prod and poke him repeatedly, asking him numerous questions about the specimens in the lab.

"y/n! don't touch that!"

one day, wooyoung comes home sick.

you insist on taking him to see a doctor, only for him to emit a haughty laugh at you.

"why would i waste my time and money when i have yeosang here?"

"but woo, he didn't even get into med-school yet-"

wooyoung insists he doesn't need to see a professional, "yeosang is practically our live-in doctor! why do you think i begged him to move in?"

you roll your eyes, calling for yeosang to persuade the younger male.

"alright, tell me your symptoms," your boyfriend sighs, plopping down onto the couch beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

after wooyoung explains everything and takes his own temperature, he peers at yeosang for an answer, "well?"

"you're dying," yeosang nods simply.

wooyoung's visage pales, and he scrambles to sit up on the couch with a disturbed expression.

"what?"

yeosang is always studying.

always.

studying.

you insist for him to take a break sometimes.

"i can't. i have lab tomorrow. oh, and a paper."

"but you always say that!"

you attempt to tug him out of his seat.

"come on! just for an hour, and we'll be back. promise."

he's always reluctant at first, but finds himself agreeing later anyway.

enjoys the small dates at the nearby lake probably more than you do.

mingi — [ accounting ]

a gifted genius when it comes to numbers.

is your very own math tutor.

jokingly asks you to pay him back.

he accepts kisses and hugs. baked pastries are also a bonus.

"y/n? are you okay?" a hand waves in front of your face.

you blink at him wordlessly, mind fogged from the bombardment of information you just received, "sorry- you lost me. can you repeat the process again?"

he playfully smacks your shoulder with the ruler and stomps his bare feet onto the tiled floor, "this is the third time!"

"i'm sorry! you know how i am with math!"

he begs you to take classes with him as electives.

"sorry, baby. i love you, but there's no way i'll ever take statistics."

"okay, what about economics?"

"no."

"management? business administration!?"

"no and no."

"but y/n! it'll be fun! you'll be with me!"

always whines about how much he hates having to take 'stupid management classes' and the group projects that come along with them.

"they never take the assignments seriously!"

said group visits your apartment to work on projects with mingi.

"aren't you supposed to be working on that project?"

you watch as mingi and his friends suddenly erupt in an explosive argument about the game they were currently playing.

"yeosang! what the fuck!?"

"it's y/n's fault mingi was distracted!"

you let out an indignant squawk and glare at yeosang.

"that round didn't count."

"stop being a sore loser, san!"

"so.. i take it you didn't even start?" you grimace, peering over to the untouched books and papers on the coffee table.

"it's just management class. no big deal," san explains quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand before nudging your boyfriend with a glare, "you better not make us lose this time, or i'll kidnap y/n."

stays up late to finish other work that's due.

loves to wear big spectacles when studying.

it 'helps him focus'.

writes notes on his calculator and slides it towards you while you're both home studying.

'n-3^07-!'

"mingi, what is that?"

"read it upside down, you bum."

has a coffee mug with 'i love π' in big, bold, red letters.

refuses to throw it away even though the rim is chipped.

always bugs you about how you should have a budget plan.

insists on teaching you how to make spreadsheets on excel.

"i can't do this, mingi. too much numbers give me a headache."

"do you want my lucky glasses?"

rambles on about things related to his field, and you can only nod in confusion every time.

"how does your brain keep up with all of this?"

"easy. just be one with the numbers."

"that was a bad pun.."

"you're supposed to laugh!"

mingi was that typical student who complained about studying, but is always the one acing everything with the highest score.

"i should just quit university and become a stripper."

"you say that every exam week, and yet, you always pass with the highest grades," you mumble from the other side of the couch, absentmindedly highlighting a few sentences in your book.

"yeah, but studying is a pain in the ass," he exhaled with a loud groan, head thrown back against the back of the couch, "why me, y/n?"

you roll your eyes while reaching over to pat the side of his face in comfort.

"everything will work out just fine."

later that week, he joyfully bounces into your apartment with a large grin plastered on his face, "guess what?"

you snort in amusement.

"let me take a wild guess. you aced your exam."

"and guess who has the highest score?" he tugged you forward by your cheeks with a bright grin.

"yeosang?" the cheery expression on his features suddenly vanished, causing you to laugh, "i'm kidding."

likes to study while attached to your side, wearing comfortable pajamas and warm socks.

sulks whenever his stock investments drop further than he expects.

and is always in a good mood whenever the prices spike back up.

always has a horrible math pun up his sleeve.

sends you accounting memes and becomes a gloomy mess when you don't laugh or understand the joke.

"what if i propose to you with a math problem? and we have pie instead of cake?"

"please don't bring math into our love life."

yunho — [ broadcasting journalism ]

roommates with you, hongjoong, and jongho.

is called 'newspaper boy' by hongjoong.

is well-known around campus for being one of the student journalists for the university's newspaper.

you have the very first published paper, with his full name printed on the front, framed in the hallway of your dorm.

has the prettiest hands.

and longest fingers you've ever seen.

can put them to good use.

especially when typing out essays. they're practically blurred from how swift he is.

likes to ramble about current international events to jongho early in the morning. the latter pretends to understand, giving the other false hope.

jongho always sends you a pleading look to save you from your lover.

always carries a notebook.

article deadlines = stressed yunho.

complains that his friends are 'uncultured'.

helps you with your essays.

if he has enough time, he'll actually re-write it for you.

"was it really that bad?"

"it's okay, baby. you're good at other things."

"how come you don't re-write my papers?" jongho huffs from across the living room.

"you're not y/n."

interviews you and your other roommates for his projects.

you smile from behind him as he zooms in obnoxiously close to hongjoong's disgruntled expression.

"he zoomed in on my nose again, didn't he?" the blue haired male asks you.

"sorry, but that tomato sauce stain is really distracting me."

hongjoong nearly drops his fork.

"what stain!?" he furiously rubs his face with the back of his hand, "see! i told you that you always interview us at the most inconvenient time!"

is constantly writing.

can be very unorganized.

"who took my ap stylebook!?"

"can you stop shouting? it's 6 a.m., yunho!" hongjoong growls from his bedroom.

mingi and seonghwa often visit your dorm because they're usually partnered with yunho for an assignment.

it somehow always winds up with mingi and yunho fooling around, whilst seonghwa struggles to persuade them to help him with the work.

sometimes, you tag along to help film his public social experiment projects.

is a social-bug, so people are instantly drawn to him.

likes to cuddle with you while watching the films for his assignments.

you think most of them are pretty boring, but being in his lap and tucked against his chest makes up for it.

you like to add glittery stickers onto his video camera and tripod.

is very much infatuated with you, so he doesn't mind one bit.

applied for a paid broadcasting radio station/tv internship over the summer and was quickly accepted.

asks you to help him style his hair for his first day at work.

"but it's just a radio station. no one's going to see you?" jongho questions with a perplexed expression.

"i still need to look presentable!"

and later that day you quickly hush the two males beside you once the clock strikes 2 p.m.

"quiet! yunho should be on any second now!"

"i was just breathing?" hongjoong whispers weakly.

over dinner, jongho often mimics yunho's reporting voice.

"y/n, do i really sound like that?" yunho pouts as you and hongjoong burst into fits of laughter.

"aw, don't be sad. i love your reporter voice, baby."

will wake everyone up early the next morning by yelling at the top of his lungs with his reporter voice just to get back at you three for laughing at him.

[r0zez-in-bl00m]

~ 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~

Looking more like a boy

🍎 Epel x fem!reader (fluff) WORD COUNT : : 1.5k

Description- Epel loves his beloved very much, even though they look more manly than him. But what happens when he tries to become more manly himself?

Epel loved (y/n) more than anything he ever had loved before, not only him but his lover knew that too. The whole Pomefiore dorm did, Vil was very happy to see them together though he would comment on one flaw every time this topic was brought up in his presence.

 Only one thing's wrong in their wild relationship, is the perplexity of finding out which one of them is a boy or a girl. God, (y/n) always had to assure him that not to get so overboard on these pathetic matters, but that guy wouldn't have it. Epel gets so angry when someone confuses him with a girl while he's somewhat embarrassed that his girlfriend was so strongly built.

 Even Mr. Vargas sometimes gave an example of her to teach the students to build muscles, Vargas rarely compliments someone else other than his egocentric self on the concept of muscles. But (y/n) begs to differ on that matter. "Mr. Vargas is more female following, I guess." 

 Insecurity is highly available in the love market. Epel dragged, literally dragged, away (y/n) when some delinquent/ jock randomly flipped his arm on her during Magift practice. Be prepared for a long lecture in a very cute voice by the little apple, pun intended. Expecting a change in accent when he started talking was crucial. 

 "Why?! Out of all people . . ." "Ain't I enough for ya?! You don't like me because I ain't muscular?"

 Then there were coddling moments, (y/n) crushed Epel into a hug," God, my idiot boyfriend . . . if I liked muscular guys would I go out with you in the first place?"

 The girl teased him a lot though for his switch in accent. "You sound like a little lion sometimes. . . Kingscholar would be jealous." The apple boy blushed a lot with (y/n) whispering in his ear or touching his face.

 To match her girlfriend in every way Epel tries a little too much than expected.

 One day while experimenting in the laboratory along with Jack Howl for their assessment Epel was multi-tasking with another book hidden under his desk and reading the book which was based on magical pharmaceuticals for the second-year level.

 By chance, Jack spotted the book and scolded him for cheating. Immediately Epel got a switch in his persona and was bomb-barding over the 192cm wolf with his southern comments while spilling his beans at the moment. 

 "You're trying to make a potion that will make you more muscular?" Jack muttered in disbelief, he couldn't fathom at first that why would a cute Pomefiore require such a potion in the first place.

 Epel, being Epel, switched to his regular façade in an instant and was stammering like mad as a hatter. "Oh, !-! I-it's just . . . so t-that I can look a b-bit . . . more masculine... f-for her." It wasn't hidden from anyone that (y/n) (l/n) and Epel were dating but Jack never expected him to go this far to read and understand a high-level medicine book. Jack merely scratched his head, confused about what to say next, "I think Vil-Senpai once told me that taking a body development potion can cause a lot of strain to the body as well as the mind. . ." Epel had his head down, pressed against the desk, "I know that! It's just it's kinda weird that (y/n) looks more like a man than me." 

 Feeling like a good puppy that Jack is he decided to help Epel with the potion considering that it was of vast complexity (and we know that our Tsundere puppy would never admit that he is doing this by heart lol).

    All afternoon Jack and Epel spent their time researching and putting all sorts of herbs and potions into the cauldron. "Epel, focus closely on how the color changes. We don't want to create trouble for ourselves." Jack instructed while putting another herb as designated in the book. Epel nodded," Understood."

 Slowly the color started to fade into a vicious color of red, thick and rich. Jack and Epel both peered down to take a closer look. As the book said it would be welcoming at first glance yet the trick of the potion was to figure out which part was truthful. It hadn't yet been figured out that when was it best to consume the potion. Many theories were concocted for its usage; 'drink it when it turns out a bit bluish', 'it'll smell like rotten eggs at first,' 'don't drink if it's still milk-white,' such and such. 

 "How will we figure out that the potion is drinkable yet-"Jack said, he turned his head only to be at the verge of losing it. Epel was already gorging on the drink, the liquid falling on the floor at each gulp. "E-Epel?! What are you d-doing?" But by then it was already too late. 

 The potion was all gone and all was left was to see if their hard work bore any fruit. Laughter broke out a minute later. "Jack!! I can feel the power surging in me . . . . God, it's amazing!" Jack was baffled, then knowing that everything was alright smirked a little at their success. But then something struck him, Isn't potion supposed to make him taller? Then why is he shrinking... 

 His realization was as late as ever. A poof of purple smoke surrounded Epel and within the blink of an eye . . . vóila! The apple had turned into a cat; A pretty cute one to be exact.

 His eyes were big with their same blue irises and were staring adoringly/in confusion at Jack. "Meow?" Jack took it as 'what the hell happened?' As much as he wanted to lecture Epel the Cat, he couldn't. Stan cuteness.

 Jack cursed the time he decided to be a good puppy and help Epel out, now he was in big trouble than anyone could anticipate. The terrifying image of (y/n) wrathful face started to haunt him, he was sure that Epel had the same thoughts. With swift arms Epel was under Jack's protection, they both headed towards the hall of mirrors to the Pomefiore dorm.

 But but but . . . the goddess of fate had taken a little vacation. In their hurried state they were spotted by the person they both least wanted to see right now.

 "Hey, Jack!!!" 

 "Goddamn it!!" Jack muttered angrily, this couldn't have been the worst time to be killed right now. (y/n) approached him at an unprecedented speed Jack could've reciprocated. He was done for. "What up bro—oh who's this?" (y/n) gazed at Epel with the same affection she would give him when he, you know, is not busy as a cat.

 The girl patted the cat's head, "Is this your pet, Jack?" (y/n) asked. His face flushed red at that question alone, so did Epel's, but in this case, it was his snout. "Uh . . . no . . . (y/n). It's not my pet. . ." Jack stammered, and hard. That day was no good for him. "It's not yours? Then maybe Ruggie's? I've seen him quite getting along with Lucius," the never-ending string of cat-related questions continued with Jack stammering like a fool and Epel losing his shit.

 Finally, in anger, he leaped in (y/n)'s arms. The girl was taken back a bit but materialized because of Epel's soft purring. "It's strange. . . Epel does the same when he's having a rough time. Burying his face in my arms then falling asleep," (y/n) laughed. "Which reminds me . . . have you seen him anywhere?"

 Be prepared to see a dying Jack any minute. 

 A guy, then, approached the group in a hurry, "(y/n)! Vice prez of Octavinelle is looking for you." 

While being dragged away (y/n) called out to tell her if he gets to know anything about Epel do let her know. God bless the anonymous dude who unintentionally saved Jack Howl from being slaughtered. Epel looked relieved too, that and a little triumphant purr.

 Then their venture towards Pomefiore continued. Upon reaching everyone in that glittering dorm showered Epel the Cat with love which was already less required but was, later on, were saved by Vil Schoenheit.

 Jack ushered Vil into a corner with Epel still secured in his arms and narrated the story from top to bottom.

 "YOU WHAT?!" Nobody could understand why their simply composed dorm leader lost his cool all of a sudden.

 Vil already made plans to clear out his afternoon to lecture Jack and Epel thoroughly tomorrow for causing this blunder, but Epel Felmier had to be saved. That night Jack again spent his entire time looking through the potions book with Vil brewing the antidote. Never in his life, Jack went through so much Alchemy and he swore that whatever happened next he wouldn't touch a single Alchemy book (unless it's a test then we can't sue the wolf).

 But one thing was final that he was going to do something lurid to Epel as soon as he gets back to normal, or he isn't Savnnaclaw.

 ---------------------------------------

[me-and-jake]

Dark Side of the Heart

I have no idea what I’m doing, this idea just randomly came to me so I said fuck it, let’s write it.

Blurb: After a mysterious tragedy at La Push high School, all of the students are forced to attend Forks High School. Follows jacob Black and Leah Clearwater as they find out that the Cullens knows more than what they’re letting on, and discovers the existence of The Children of the Moon. All human (sort of) au.

Tag list? Idk: @jacobsbadwig @the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis @plainjaniedee (if you want to [or don’t want to] be added, then let me know)

Chapter One

“What Happens in La Push, Stays in La Push”

The night dawned upon the reservation. A full moon hangs in-between the clouds, illuminating the quiet streets. The trees swayed together in the light breeze and softly clashing against window sills. The air thumped silently, as the street lights flickered slightly. The woods were silent and still—abnormally so. Small animals are nowhere to be seen, and not even the songs of crickets were to be heard. The night grew darker, the shadows aching with hunger and captivity.

A predator lurked nearby.

The only people who were awake at these hours were the two janitors, Mr. Cly and Mr. Denton, at La Push Highschool. The hallways only filled with the steady noise of a broom brushing against the tiled floors and the occasional vacuum in the classrooms. Old school music blasting through Denton’s ears, tuned out from his surroundings.

Until a loud clatter echoes throughout the school. Denton snatches his headphones off and his head whips around, trying to search through the dim lighting. The lights flickered vigorously, the buzzing making his heart pound.

“Yo, Denton! You heard that?”

He jumps at Cly’s voice coming from the radio transmitter. “Dammit, Cly, you scared the shit out of me! Yeah, I heard it. Where did it come from?”

“Sounds like it came from the back entrance. I’m heading back there right now. Intruder, maybe?”

Denton shakes his head, resuming back to sweeping. “Why? So they can steal the non-existent MacBooks from the computer lab?” He chuckles to himself, waiting for Cly to join him. But only a chilling silence replied back.

The middle-aged man pulls the radio closer to him with a serious tone edge to his voice. “Cly? You there?” Silence.

Like a crackle of lightning in thunderous clouds, another crash erupted—too much closer this time. Denton lets go of the broom as he starts to back up slowly, his eyes stuck on the darkness gathering at the end of the hallway. Sweat gathers at his temples while his shaky hands lose the grip of the radio.

Suddenly the radio fills the mind numbing silence. Panic shaking in Cly’s voice. “GET OUT OF HERE! NOW—”

Hearing nothing but the blood rushing to his ears, mixing in with his feet pounding into the floors. Sinister growls crept through the school, along with the bloodcurdling scream of his co-worker. He heaved out breaths, seeing the light of the moon peering into the front entrance doors. Nails that sounded like knives scraping against the floor charged behind him. A lion hunting its antelope. He was so close to his escape.

But no one escapes from the beast.

***

Jacob Black has done many, many stupid things because of his heart.

When Embry Call stressed for weeks about the upcoming biology test during freshman year, fourteen-year-old Jacob decided it was a great idea to release crickets into the school so his best friend could have one more day to study. A year later when fresh-meat Seth Clearwater was getting shoved inside of lockers by upperclassmen, Jacob didn’t hesitate to pour spoiled milk in the bullies’ lockers (the smell never came out). And only a few months ago, his sister, Rachel Black, was suffering from a breakup, and the only thing that would make her laugh is if he sang a Brittany Spears song (loudly off key) in the middle of the cafeteria.

It was simple logic: you should do anything to make the people you love smile for a little bit longer.

Even if it meant cutting your hair.

“Guys… I’m starting to regret this,” Jacob breathes out.

There was no backing out now as the small crowd of guys shoved him down into the leather chair. Their teasing and excited laughter rang in his ears, making his nerves rise. He tried to let his thoughts linger on the way his long strands brushed against the nape of his neck and the end of his shoulders. But the thought of looking horrendous with a haircut was starting to pound like an unshakable headache.

“Sam, please!” Jacob starts to panic as the buzzing sound of a shaver and the snipping of sharp scissors. Sam stands in front of him with his utensils in each hand with a smirk on his face.

“C’mon, Jake, don’t you want to impress Bella Swan tomorrow?” He cooes.

Of course, this entire fuss was about a girl. Admittedly, the opposite sex has been Jacob’s weakness ever since Tyra Wallace kissed him during a sneaky game of spin the bottle in 6th grade. He didn’t know exactly why Bella Swan caught his eye; the brunette never showed much interest in sixteen year old Jacob Black. So what was the point in going to drastic changes?

“It’s gonna be fuckin’ hilarious when she rejects you after you cut her hair,” Paul snorts.

Jacob side-eyes him. “Do me a favor, Paul, and shut the hell up.”

Jared waves away the tension, leaning over the chair with encouragement flooding in his tone. “Don’t overthink it. You’re going to look great…”

“Thank you, Jared.”

“….unless Sam makes you bald.”

“What?!”

Sam shushes him, turning the chair around. Sam’s living room floor groaned in reaction. “Don’t worry, Lil’ Black. Big Daddy Sam gotchu.”

Quil snorts in the back, a questionable magazine in his hands. “And who the hell calls you that!”

“Yo’ mama last night,” Sam deadpans. The garage erupts in laughter, Embry hollering th louder which earned a hard smack from Quil.

The warm feeling spreading through Jacob’s chest almost made him forget about the sudden tugging at his hair. He tensed as he heard the first snip. The fallen loc of hair felt like weights hitting the dusty floor. A new breeze hits his bare shoulders and the nape of his neck. It felt as if an eraser danced on the story of his life, wiping away his identity and making room for a new chapter. When he was finally handed a mirror, a smile slowly spread across his face as he started to anticipate a new path.

***

Leah Clearwater wasn’t the type of person to dive in heart first, but insisted on using logistics and her head. That’s why she wasn’t known to trip over her own two feet to get a boy’s attention or to become desperate on making friends in the highschool cafeteria. If she wanted something, then she would go get it—without making a fool out of herself whilst leading with her feelings. However, tonight was different. Her hands were sweaty and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t fade. The lacy black underwear stared back at her with a sharpness. It still smelled like the store in Port Ángeles.

“Leah, calm down. The world won’t implode if you were lingerie,” Rachel teases.

“It might!” Leah throws her hands in the air dramatically. Her feet continue to pace the floors of the bedroom, the carpet starting to make a trail. “This plan is ridiculous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

“You let me talk you into this because you know you needed my help,” Rachel states matter-of-factly. “And it’s not even that big of a deal. I know some people on the cheer team are known to do worse to get someone’s attention.”

“This isn’t worse?!” Leah shrieks, finally plopping down on the bottom bed of the bunk bed. She tries to ignore the thin fabric of the Lacey panties brushing against her thigh.

Rachel sighs and grabs the panties, pushing it close to Leah’s face. “All you have to do is place these nice little panties into his locker before school starts. Sam Uley will never be able to keep his hands off of you.”

The thought was intriguing, of course, but also downright stupid. But that didn’t stop the smile creeping on Leah’s lips. She’s been thinking of ways to ask her boyfriend to have sex for the first time without sounding stupid or boring.

Before Leah could say anything, a groan rumbled from above. Rebecca Black peeks from her bed, looking down at the two startled girls. Her dyed brown hair falling over her groggy expression, hiding the drool on the side of her face.

“If you’re gonna fuck him, please get it over with. I need my beauty sleep.”

Leah threw a pillow at her face, flipping her off at the same time. “Go back to hibernating, you witch.”

Becca stuck out her tongue, turning over with the extra pillow as she mumbles. “I don’t know why you’re taking advice from the other virgin that no doubt took this idea from an article made by bored, wine sippin’ housewives.”

Leah narrows her eyes to Rachel, who wore a guilty expression. “Did you get this from google?”

***

The morning sun barely peaked. Birds began their songs and slowly the reservation awakened. Jacob enters the kitchen, unable to stop his fingers running through his newly cut hair. His hair was parted in the front and mid-length with straight hair on both sides. It was combined with a fade on the sides and the back. He looked like he walked out of 90’s teen heartthrob magazine, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, what happened to you?”

He jumped out his skin, placing his hand on his chest. “Jesus Christ, Leah! The hell are you doing creeping around like that?” Although, he should’ve taken notice of the disarray of blankets across the couch and the television on mute. There was no surprise to the fact Leah has claimed their couch for the past few years, especially after a night of shenanigans with the twins.

Her eyebrows shot up, her arms crossed over her black tank top. “And what the hell are you doing here without ten more inches of hair?”

Jacob simply shrugged, passing her to get to the kitchen. “Just wanted a different look, s’all.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Jacob Black.”

He paused, opening the fridge. His eyes squint in suspicion, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “So, how was your trip to Victoria Secret today?”

It usually takes a lot to break through Leah’s mask of hardiness and structure, but it seems as though only the Black family could find loopholes. And that’s why her jaw was dropped and her eyes bugged out.

“It—it was fine, I guess,” she stammered.

Jacob hummed, pulling out cold pizza wrapped in tin foil. “Have something special planned?”

Leah gathered herself up and sneered, “Maybe you’ll find out when your balls finally drop.”

“For Sam Uley, perhaps?” He continued with a teasing smile playing on his lips. She bumped him harshly out of the way in response whilst grabbing a carton of orange juice.

Leah gestured to his cropped hair with the cartoon, mirroring his goofy smile. “For Bella Swan, perhaps?”

Jacob’s smile drops, earning a humorous laugh in return.

It was a dynamic that both teenagers have grown accustomed to, too. Ever since six-year-old Leah kicked five-year-old Jacob off the swings, and him putting a live worm in her hair in retaliation. Insults would be exchanged, something being thrown, and an occasional chokehold. Outsiders looking in would claim the two hated each other’s guts and can never get along. However, they had a silent agreement that they considered each other family (but they wouldn’t dare say it outloud).

As Jacob plans breakfast, he freezes and curses under his breath. “Shit! We don’t have any eggs.”

Leah was already preparing cereal, shaking the contents inside the box. “Then fix something else.”

“No, no… Rachel eats egg sandwiches for lunch, Dad needs to keep up his protein, and Becca is getting into that thing where you drink the fucking egg—I don’t know but I need to go to the market to get a few dozens.” His words ran into each other as a jacket was already hung over his raggedy t-shirt.

Leah watches him scramble into his room. Him falling trying to put on a pair of jeans, and accidentally putting tennis shoes on the wrong feet. It was a weird sight to see Jacob Black so frantic and worrisome. And Leah quickly realizes that only his family had the power to do so.

Sarah Black was the glue that held this family together. So when she died in a tragic car accident four-years-ago, the youngest instinctively took her place. No one asked him to, it was simply who Jacob was. Protective, caring. He didn’t care about missing after school activities so to take care of his disabled father or to help his sisters. Although it was honorable, it made Leah frown at everyone who allowed a twelve-year-old kid to take care of a household. And that’s when she started to make camp on their couch every weekend.

Leah sighed, putting away her cereal. “Jacob, the market is ten minutes away. Twenty if you’re walking. And you don’t have a license.”

“I’ve driven before.”

“Congratulations, you didn’t get arrested—yet. C’mon I’ll drive.” Leah held out her hand for the keys to Billy’s truck. Jacob looked at her suspiciously, twirling the keys with his fingers. He wondered what the ulterior motive was. He remembers all the time Leah has tricked him with kindness and it usually ended up in sticky situations. But the soft look in her eyes and the small twitch in the corner of her lips, attempting a small smile, told him otherwise.

They were soon stuck in the truck together, with three dozens of eggs and an extra loaf of bread. Leah chewed on a KitKat as she drove back to the Black residence. The streets were empty around this hour and only nature was awake with them.

Jacob raises a brow towards her. “Y’know it’s bad to eat chocolate in the morning. Especially if you haven’t eaten anything. Causes stomach aches.”

“Thank you for enlightening me on my digestive system, Dr. Dickhead.”

He says nothing but smiles. Leah glances at him, and a smile surfaces on her lips as well.

“You don’t need to cut your hair to impress her.”

Jacob couldn’t suppress the groan as he sank in the passenger seat. “Do we have to talk about this?”

She ignores him. “Why did you do it?”

“I—I don’t know… I just thought that if… I changed a little bit then she wouldn’t just see me as the little kid from Rez.” He admits, sheepishly. A hint of pink flashes underneath his russet brown cheeks.

Leah shifts uncomfortably at his sudden vulnerable state. She balls up the empty KitKat wrapper, burying it in her back pocket. Clearing her throat, she tried to think of something comforting.

“Well.. uhh… you know…” Leah mumbles. She found herself tempted to tuck and roll out of the car. “If she doesn’t like you for you, then… screw Bella!” Nailed it.

Jacob scrunched his brows together, seeing accomplishment in Leah’s face as if she showed Mommy and Daddy her stellar report card. He burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking and tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“Thanks, Leah.”

“Don’t mention it,” she breathes out. Jacob almost mentions Sam when they start to pass the high school, but catching a glimpse of the front entrance doors, he yells out. Leah slammed on the breaks in surprise, expecting to see a deer running out in the streets. She looked at Jacob with wild eyes, ready to backhand him for scaring her. But the confusion written on his features made her pause.

“What? What is it?”

Jacob nodded towards the school. The doors were nearly off its hinges, and broken glass was splattered across the concrete.

“Holy shit!” Leah made a sharp turn into the empty parking lot, and hopped out of the car with Jacob on her tails. He grabbed her arm, spinning her towards him.

“Are you out of your mind? What if someone broke in? You can’t—”

Leah leaned her body away from his grip, her voice an octave higher. “What if someone is in there that needs help?”

“Well, Sherlock Holmes, even so, it won’t be any good if we charge in there like the police and we end up getting shot, too!”

She snatches her arm away, and charges to the building. Dramatically, Jacob throws his arms in the air and mumbles something about ‘this is how people die in scary movies’, but follows her; he always ends up following her.

With each step towards the entrance door, they felt an eerie chill creep on the back of their necks. Broken glass crunching underneath the soles of their shoes warns them to keep out, that the danger they seek isn’t worth it. But they trudge on. They only freeze when the smell of iron hits their noses. Their chest tightens as the hesitation seeps in.

Leah’s voice is shaky as she speaks in a small voice. “It smells like…”

Jacob swallows harshly. “Blood.”

Fear quickens their hearts, when they take a step inside. The sight of a body laid across the floor, making them gasp. The lights were off, and the small bits of morning light glazed over the janitor uniform.

“Oh my god, sir! Are you okay?” Leah picks up her pace as Jacob takes out his phone, prepared to call nine-one-one.

“Hold on, I’m gonna call Char….” He trails off, following the trail of blood. The dark red color mixed with the navy blue uniform, and into the open wound. His guts were exposed, intestines falling from the sides. Bite marks on his skin and long claw marks scattered on his body.

“Oh my god…” Jacob choked out, his phone slipping out of his hands and falling into the pool of blood. Leah caught his gaze and smacked a hand over her mouth. Bile rising in her throat.

“He’s… dead.”

***

It didn’t seem right.

How dare the sun shine beautifully through the evergreen trees, and the birds chirp happily in their nest. The way a warm breeze licked their skin was a mockery to the way they couldn’t get rid of the chills down their spine. The police sirens and flashing lights didn’t mix with the sunny, cheerful morning. It was disgusting and offensive.

Jacob didn’t know what to feel. Angry? Repulsed? Sad? Maybe he felt everything. Flashes of the bloodied and… eaten man raced through his mind like a terrible movie. He wishes he had never seen it. He wishes he threw Leah back into the car. He wishes for everything.

He looks down at his phone, covered in another man's blood. He quickly pushes back the bile in his throat.

Leah shakes slightly next to him as they both lean against the truck. She tries not to think about the blood underneath their shoes. And she tries to not think about the blank look in the man’s eyes.

Death never seemed as real as it did today. Growing up, she heard stories of the dead joining the ancestors with a peaceful rest. She figured she would die from old age, or maybe from honor. But now she know she can end up like Mr. Denton. A cold, ruthless, and vile death.

The two haven’t said a word since calling the police. Both bathing in the silence and sobs. There weren’t the rights that can make this painful memory go away, and the most fearful realization was living with it.

Charlie Swan approached them with his hand resting on his gun holster. As if he was on alert for any more surprises. He tried to mask his fear, but there was no masking a situation like this.

“You two… are you okay?”

They didn’t answer. But the terror in their eyes, and the trembling of their lips told him everything. He was quickly reminded that these were the same children that he babysat when Billy and Sarah Black or Harry and Sue Clearwater used to go on date night. It broke his heart knowing they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Listen, nothing is going to happen to you,” Charlie reassured with his parental voice instead of the Chief of Police. “You both are going to go home, get some rest. No school today, okay?”

They both nodded blankly in response.

“But do not, I repeat do not, mention this to anyone. Not even your parents. Do I make myself clear?” His voice is authoritative, pulling them out of their catatonic state.

When Leah couldn’t speak, Jacob whispered, “Yes, sir…”

Charlie nods, looking back at the yellow tape and the flashing of blue and red lights. “What happens here, stays here.”

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Next Chapter

[allthingsfangirl101]

Panicked Confession–Charlie St. Cloud

Charlie and I have had kind of a weird relationship. We've been friends since we were little, but we weren't close. We greeted each other at school and could carry on a conversation, but we weren't joined at the hip. We were friendly peers. On the surface, at least.

Under the surface, we both wanted a little more. We both liked each other, but neither one of us made a move. We sorta started dating junior year but didn't officially start dating until later that summer.

"Sorta dating" is when two people like each other and act super coupley without actually confessing any and all existing feelings. Junior year, Charlie and I both liked each other and our friends all told us about it but neither one of us said anything to the other person.

The longer we were friends, the closer we got. Soon, it got to the point where there were very few days where Charlie and I weren't together. You never went to an event and saw one of us without the other. We went everywhere together and did everything together. We quickly became a lot closer than most friends.

During the summer before senior year, Charlie and I were hanging out at his house when his brother came running in. He looked at us, slightly cuddling, and smirked.

"You're finally together?" He cheered. "Hallelujah!"

After Sammy left the room, it was sort of awkward between us. But only for a second. I was stuttering up an excuse when Charlie grabbed my face and kissed me. We talked and an hour later we were dating. Because everyone already thought we were a couple, they weren't that shocked when we came back to school dating.

We were getting pretty serious as we graduated. When Charlie and Sam got into the car accident and Sam died, I was afraid I was going to lose him. He wasn't talking to anyone, he wasn't leaving his house, and he was barely eating.

I tried to give him enough time to mourn his brother, but I didn't know when was the right time to step in and what I could do to help him. I took him dinner, I offered to stay the night, I helped keep his place clean, I carpooled with him to work so he wasn't alone. I tried just about everything, but it never seemed enough.

Until one night I realized there was only one thing he needed to hear me say.

                             ~•~

Three months after Sam's funeral, we were sitting on my couch watching a movie as I gently played with his fingers. Charlie once told me that playing with his fingers or running my hand through his hair was comforting, so I've been doing both of those things even more since the accident.

"Am I gonna lose you?" Charlie randomly whispered. I looked up at him to see him staring intently at our intertwined hands.

"Charlie," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat. When he looked up at me, his eyes were cloudy like he was trying to hold back tears.

"I lost my parents and my brother. Am I going to lose you too?"

Instead of answering him, I pulled him into my chest. I tightened my arms around him when his breath got caught in his throat.

"I'm not going anywhere, Charlie."

                             ~•~

Ever since that conversation, Charlie and I have spent every day together. I made sure we saw each other as much as possible. I constantly stopped by his work for lunch, invited him over for dinner, and stayed at his place.

Today, he was supposed to meet me at my place for dinner after work. I checked the clock on my stove to see that Charlie was running late. When I realized this, my heart sank into my stomach. Ever since the accident, Charlie was never been late.

After several phone calls going to voicemail, I grabbed my keys and decided to go to his place. When I got there, his lights were off and he didn't answer his door. I tried calling him again but no luck. I sighed when it went to voicemail again.

"Hey, Charlie," I said softly. "It's me. You were late for dinner and I tried calling but. . . I even stopped by your place. Where are you? Is everything okay? Please call me back."

Before heading home, I decided to stop by the cemetery. I pulled up to the maintenance shack where he worked and sighed when I saw the lights on. I parked next to Charlie's car and headed inside. I knocked softly on the door before walking into the shack.

"Charlie?" I called out as I walked in. My heart sank as I saw Charlie leaning over the table, struggling to breathe.

"Babe?" I gasped as I instantly ran over to him. I gently started rubbing his back as I tried to get his attention.

"I can't. . . He's. . . This is. . ." Charlie continued to stutter as his breath wasn't under control yet.

I turned him around so he was facing me. I reached up and gently grabbed his face, making him look at me.

"Charlie, it's alright. I'm right here. Just breathe."

He opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. I sighed before pulling him into my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, carefully monitoring his breathing as he got it back.

I was filled with relief what I felt Charlie take a normal breath. I continued to run my fingers through his hair as he came down from his panic attack. When he finally spoke up, I wasn't expecting him to say what he did.

"I love you."

When those three words slipped out of his mouth, I felt him stiffen. I slowly pulled out of the hug, my cheeks burning.

"What did you say?" I whispered.

"I just. . . I didn't mean. . . Well, I did but. . . I didn't plan on saying it like that."

"How did you plan on saying it?" I asked, my voice slowly going back to normal.

"I don't know," he stuttered. "I had wanted it to be more. . .romantic. Maybe at dinner or on our anniversary. Not when I was coming down from a panic attack."

I stood on my toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. When I pulled away I smiled up at him.

"I love you too, Charlie."