#Broken Tee Brewing

[chicagobeerpass]

Chicago Beer Pass: Not A #DryJanuary

Welcome to the Chicago Beer Pass: Your ticket to all the great beer events happening in and around Chicago.

On this not so #dryjanuary episode of Chicago Beer Pass, Brad Chmielewski and Nik White are cracking open some cans from Off Color Brewing. It's been a while since the guys opened anything from this crew, but that "Beer For Lounging" name seemed so fitting. The guys knock back these brews and talk about trips to Light The Lamp, Broken Tee Brewing, and Midwest Coast.

Brad and Nik also talk about Rock Bottom Chicago closing, which they both have fond memories of drinking at different locations over the years.

Having issues listening to the audio? Try the MP3 (61.6 MB) or subscribe to the podcast on iTunes!

[starlight-incarnate]

House of Feänor as Aesthetics:

Fëanor  —  loud voice, commanding presence, analytical, natural leader, piercing eyes, foggy hillsides, black boots, tipping their head back to breathe the air, mirrored lakes and everything below the surface, tearing leaves from trees, blunt sarcasm, long dark hair, deep sleeper, rotting tree stumps, black leather jacket, songs that makes you want to create a storm, rebellious, ambition, unstoppable passion, fast trains, polaroids, empty castles.

Maedhros — walking silently, stronger due to all the stuff meant to kill them, ignoring their mental health issues, fiery red hair, crumbling marble, oversized hoodies, raw voice, lingering touches, faint music in the distance, calming down from a panic attack, long heavy cloaks, cold hands, disillusioned with the world, insomnia, unhealthy habits, sighs made visible by cold night air, strong hugs, never sleeps, loud music, freckles, dark under-eyes.

Maglor — hypnotising smiles, a broken mind, melancholy, driving through mountains and the woods, iced coffee, the faint feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, ripped jeans, tight hugs, whispered compliments, deep conversations, late night texts, nimble hands, thin blades, white lilies, vertigo, unkept journals, lightning and thunder, rhythms so raw the heartbreak is showing, shattered glass, walking alone on a cold night, silver necklaces, regret.

Celegorm — bright eyes, climbing rock formations, cold-hearted, hard breathing after running, wood cabins, gladiator arenas, wicked smiles, twisted branches, wild hair, growing more and more dangerous, night drives, adrenaline rushes, bruises, bloody cloaks, running from society, breathless laughing, that animalistic unpredictability, silver and leather bracelets, strong coffee after a sleepless night, city lights from a high rise, addiction, barking dogs, hurricanes.

Caranthir — ironic smirks, bitten nails painted black, lightning in summer, empty threats, sunglasses hiding dead eyes, thick chain jewellery, temperamental, goes to car races just to watch the crashes, deep glares, tongue/lip piercings, midnight walks, lightbulbs burning out, diamonds, crushed ice, a glint of cat eyes in the dark, gold coins in storm drains, cold hands, storm clouds rolling in, theatres, suppressed emotions, wrought iron gates, motorcycles. 

Curufin — cherries and Diet Coke, white marble, a studio apartment on the 67th floor, tattoos, neon lights, sweetened coffee, smudged makeup, too-loud music, cursive notes written in red ink, veiny forearms, sharp canines, fresh snowfall, high rise buildings, white light, sheer robes with nothing underneath, fog, stained glass windows, colourful hair, slow heartbeats, long-forgotten love, cold mountaintops, eternal silence.

Amrod — burnished copper, feverish eyes, hues of orange and gold, stars and spades, brewing tea, freckles, hardwood floors, poisonous flowers, listens to Hozier, messy hair, fake circle glasses, bullet point notes on a restaurant napkin, comfortable silence, broken wings on insects, old hungers, the whispering of trees, kicking stones on deserted paths, forgotten places, origami stars, old overgrown stone castles, morning mist, horse riding.

Amras  —  misplaced keys, wandering aimlessly, selectively mute, deep lakes hiding secrets, pine trees, restless nights, misunderstood, reliving the same day over and over again, graphic tees, dead moths, visual mind, muffled screams into a pillow, listens to asmr, doc martens, profanity, burned cigarettes, zoning out often, heart fluttering nervously, confusing satellites for stars, comic filled bookshelves, radios, old jeeps, glowing keyboards.

Celebrimbor — ravens, white-hot metal, the darkest shade of black, glittering skin, low waist pants, stars falling, the heat lingering in the evening, petals falling off dead flowers, trusting the wrong people, blue veins, cobblestone paths, linoleum tiles, bruises/scars easily, the heat lingering in the evening, cities awake late, card games, overanalysing everything, shiny fabrics, the slamming of a shot glass, the sting of betrayal.

[1800titz]

FETISH | Spanko!Harry x Neighbor!Reader

The one where you and Harry are neighbors in an apartment complex, he's got a bunny called Snuggles, he makes softcore porn spanking people (it's a REALLY LOUD HOBBY), and you have definitely called the police for a domestic disturbance next door continued

preview

You flail your hand out, down, awkwardly to catch a fistful of jeans. And when you snag it, you squeeze. It’s coarse between your fingers. So unlike the feather-soft weight of the atmosphere; this dreamy locale in being.

The hum over you sounds like it’s rolling straight from the foramen his ribs are hugging. A throaty, low sound, that drenches you in searing heat. 

“Ah, ah. Keep your hands to yourself—“ is a murmur saturated thick in command, and your chin snaps at the familiarity of the lilt—

But the motion is stifled when the hand that was knotted in your hair wraps around and cups you under the chin. By the throat, nearly. A garbled, wet sound brews in your neck when his thumb presses into the soft bit of space beneath your lower lip, between your chin and your mouth. It grazes the corner. You recycle the gasp again, and let it blister between your breasts. 

Harry, over you with your jaw in his palm, feels like a debauched lesson in discipline. This— an unyielding sense of control, unbudging resolve hewn in his voice, is a pure juxtaposition to bunnies and soft curls, hanging damp straight from the shower. The rubescent smear across the tops of his ears when you stare for too long; the roseate burgeoning along the bridge of his nose, nipping at the apples of his cheeks. Your mail in his hand, standing at your door. A pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, a white tee shirt that’s been washed too many times. The kind that nearly looks shrunken, stretching across the hulking breadth of his shoulders.

You gnaw into your lower lip. Scratch out at the sheets when he hits you again. His eyes are glued to you, glued where the thick of his palm is swatting. You can’t see it, but you know. And the heat courses up to your throat. Bleeding warmth under the firebrand of his hand (a collar, notched)—

“Just been begging to go over my knee, haven’t you?” he coos. 

No— no— you screw your eyes. 

Yes. 

The shame fades into the heat, and it’s the worst between your legs. You don’t know what’s worse— the revelatory shudder that wracks your shoulders, reluctance tapering, thawing into hedonistic want, when you finally, finally just let yourself sink into the melted deluge. Or the way he caresses one cheek in his big, big hand, and you rock forward, knees inching apart. The way—

“What’s this, mm?” he rumbles, fingertips coasting up your inner thigh, and prodding—

The gasp that got tangled at the back of your throat prickles. Comes alive all over as a wet, scratchy hiss.

“You’re all wet,” he tells you, like it’s a revelation you need to hear. But it’s drenched in condescension, and it makes you feel white-hot, like a scorching layer stripped straight off the surface of the sun. 

There’s snagging depraved desires and burrowing them between your ribs, like dirty secrets locked in a cage of bone. Rolling around on your sheets with your hand between your legs. 

And then there’s squirming over his lap, with your panties dangling at your ankles. 

It feels like retribution. Being broken in, in the form of a seamy, old-fashioned penitence for being a bad girl, thinking those nasty thoughts.

(The partition between punishment, you think, and outright manifestation, is paper-thin. And that’s the bliss of an overlap— a perfect stretch of limbo. You mewl when he smacks you again.)

He chuckles, and it sounds dark. Rich. Intoxicated on the slick he smears onto the back of your hot thigh. The little noises crawling out of you that taint the air. The view of your ass, spattered in handprints. “You are such a naughty, little girl.”

He breathes through his nose. The exhale makes your bones feel like they’re settling into place, and you sag with it, “Aren’t you?”

[ms-snape]

Hiii, this is my first time requesting from you,

i literally love you writing so much your one of my favorite 😖❤️

but i was wondering if you could write a father snape x teen reader, (takes places where snape didn’t die)and like the reader is emo cause they are a teen in the middle 2000’s listening to My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, and Get Scared, and they would have like a the whole emo get up like the hair, the clothes the makeup.

-🫁

tyysssm if you do this request and pleasee never leave like i love your writing ❤️

Title: A Phase

Warning: Dramatic teenager

Words Count: 2000+

A/N: Hey, thanks so much for ur support.... i litteraly spent the last few hours writing this casue i really loved ur request, it's my first time writing on my phone cause my laptop is broken so sorry if it's not so good, hope u'll like it anyway <3

Masterlist

---

It was a typical morning in the Snape household—gray clouds hanging like a permanent shroud over the world, the smell of burnt toast wafting from the kitchen, and the quiet hum of a home that seemed to have forgotten what joy sounded like. Severus Snape, master of potion-making and most things dour, sat at the table, stirring his tea with the precision of someone who could brew Polyjuice Potion in his sleep. His daughter, Y/N, however, was a different matter entirely.

Y/N was fifteen, a teenager of the modern era. Gone were the days of owl post and sweet letters from family friends—now, she communicated with grunts, eye rolls, and an abundance of black eyeliner.

Severus watched as she slouched into the kitchen, her long, jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders like a thick, tangled curtain. She was wearing a band tee—My Chemical Romance—that hung loosely on her frame, paired with ripped skinny jeans and boots that could probably double as weapons. The most striking thing about her, however, wasn’t her attire. It was her face, which bore the unmistakable expression of someone whose world had just ended.

"Morning, dad" she said flatly, plopping down into the chair across from him. Her voice was heavy with the sort of teenage angst that made Severus, for a brief moment, question whether he'd made the right decision in surviving the war.

"Morning," Severus replied dryly, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. "I assume you slept well? The usual… nightmares, emotional breakdowns, and furious texting with your friends?"

Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She merely picked up a piece of toast, inspecting it as though it might reveal some deep philosophical secret before taking a bite. Severus sighed. He was well aware that Y/N was in the throes of what Muggles referred to as an "emo phase"—but what fascinated him was how seriously she took it.

She set the toast down and wiped a few stray crumbs from her lips, glancing at her father with an expression that suggested she'd just been insulted.

"It’s not a phase," she muttered. "I’m just… expressing myself."

"Ah," Severus drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Expressing yourself through eyeliner and emotional turmoil." His voice dripped with mock sympathy. "Is that what the children are calling it these days?"

Y/N shot him a look—a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and what could only be described as the intense energy of a volcanic eruption waiting to happen.

"You wouldn’t understand," she said dramatically, pushing her chair back with the kind of force that suggested it might never be the same again. She stood, her mood oscillating between rage and sorrow, before she grabbed her phone from the table and began scrolling through it with frenzied intensity.

Severus couldn’t help it. He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in what could only be described as amusement. It had taken him a long time to realize that there were few things more entertaining than watching a teenager grapple with the profound confusion of being… well, a teenager.

"I understand," Severus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I understand that your generation has somehow decided that black clothing and a constant aura of disappointment are the appropriate responses to life’s many disappointments."

Y/N groaned, throwing herself dramatically onto the sofa. "Dad! You’re so annoying," she complained, her voice muffled as her face buried itself into a throw pillow.

Severus took a sip of his tea, savoring the silence that followed. It didn’t last long. Y/N’s phone screen lit up, and a sharp, piercing shriek rang through the house.

"Ugh!" Y/N screeched, flinging the pillow to the side. "I can’t believe this! Why is my life so hard?!"

Severus rolled his eyes. If it wasn’t a friend drama, it was a crisis of identity. He had lived through wars, betrayals, and the death of a Dark Lord, but apparently, his daughter’s distress over her relationship status was far more harrowing than anything he’d experienced in his lifetime.

"What has happened now?" he asked, his voice filled with a kind of detached curiosity.

Y/N stared at her phone, her face contorting with the kind of emotion that only a teenage girl could muster. "I—" She cut herself off and shot him a look. "I thought I was dating this guy, but he just posted some… weird stuff on his Facebook, and now I don’t know if he even likes me anymore!"

Severus frowned, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He had never fully understood the importance of social media, especially when it came to such trivial matters. He could hardly believe that a platform designed to share photos of one’s lunch could be the cause of such emotional devastation.

"And you believe this… 'Facebook' is the best way to judge a relationship?" he asked, leaning back in his chair again.

Y/N clutched her phone to her chest as if it were some ancient, sacred artifact. "Yes! It’s, like, everything. I’m… I’m, like, so embarrassed!" Her voice cracked as she slumped further into the couch.

"I see," Severus said, his tone flat. "And your emotional devastation is entirely tied to the fact that someone you may or may not have been dating posted something ambiguous on the internet. Is that about the sum of it?"

Y/N groaned again. "Yes! But you don’t understand, Dad! You’re not a teenage girl in the 2000s with, like, all these expectations and pressure and—"

Severus waved a hand dismissively. "I’m not sure I care to understand. I’ve survived Dark Lords, death, and a rather unpleasant stint as a double agent. The intricacies of 'Facebook' are… beneath me."

She blinked at him, clearly unsure of whether to be offended or impressed by his nonchalant response.

"You’re the worst," she muttered, reaching for her headphones. "I’m going to listen to The Black Parade and just… die in peace."

The dramatic statement wasn’t even an exaggeration. Y/N had developed a particular attachment to the album over the past few months, much to Severus' bewilderment. The way she spoke of it was as though it were a direct line to her soul. She often wandered around the house, headphones on, staring off into space, as if contemplating the meaning of life—or, at the very least, the meaning of her high school existence.

Severus watched her slip the earbuds into her ears, the soft notes of Welcome to the Black Parade filtering through the air. He sat for a moment in the quiet, the rhythmic thrum of teenage angst in the background.

"Your generation," he muttered, "has a strange way of processing its feelings."

Y/N’s only response was to pull her hoodie over her head and make an exaggerated display of ignoring him. Severus sighed again, leaning back in his chair. It was going to be one of those days.

As the hours ticked by, Severus found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the unfolding drama that was his teenage daughter. Y/N had settled into her usual spot on the couch, slouched in such a way that even the cushions appeared uncomfortable. The haunting sound of The Black Parade filled the room, her earbuds a barrier between herself and the world. Severus had never truly understood music as a form of self-expression, but he couldn’t deny the way it seemed to fuel the fire of her mood swings.

His attention, however, wasn’t on the music. It was on the very real crisis unfolding in the kitchen, which involved a half-empty mug of coffee, a packet of stale biscuits, and—of course—her phone.

He knew, deep down, that today wasn’t just about boy drama.

"Y/N," he called out, interrupting the symphony of despair. "If you're going to continue wallowing in there, at least spare the rest of us from your suffering."

Y/N ignored him, her thumb furiously scrolling through the latest social media gossip. Severus’ dark eyes narrowed. He didn’t expect much, but there was something… different about today. Something that wasn’t just the usual teenage melodrama.

"Y/N," he repeated, this time more firmly. She pulled one earbud out, glaring at him as if he were some ancient, cranky wizard who didn’t understand the intricacies of life.

"What?" she snapped, clearly put out that her father was interrupting her sacred time of self-reflection.

"Come here."

Y/N sighed dramatically. "I’m literally about to have a breakdown, and you want me to come over there?"

"Yes," Severus said with the patience of a man who had survived far worse. "You’ll be fine. Come. Now."

He watched as his daughter trudged over with all the enthusiasm of a dead ferret, her boots making soft thuds on the floor as she plopped herself down across from him at the table.

Her eyes were redder than usual, but it wasn’t from crying. It was a more subtle form of rebellion—those dark circles beneath her eyes were the product of sleepless nights spent contemplating the meaning of life… or, more likely, staring at her phone until the early hours of the morning.

"Now," Severus said, folding his hands in front of him. "What’s this all about?" He gestured toward her phone.

Y/N stared at the device in her hands, a scowl crossing her face. She hesitated for a moment before handing it over, her lips curling in frustration. "Look. It’s him. Again."

Severus took the phone with a sigh, his finger scrolling over the screen as he half-listened to the chorus of I’m Not Okay blasting from the speakers. There was a picture of a boy—Zane, if he remembered correctly—standing with another girl. His arms were draped over her shoulders, and the caption read: "Found someone who gets me."

Severus blinked, silently processing this. For a moment, he entertained the thought of delivering a lecture on how people who post intimate photos on social media are, in fact, "attention-seeking," but instead, he chose the far more efficient route.

He handed the phone back. "I see," he said simply. "It seems he’s discovered the joys of… complicated relationships."

Y/N’s face contorted as though she might collapse into a full-blown tantrum. "How can he do that? We were supposed to be exclusive!"

Severus couldn’t resist the opportunity for sarcasm. "You were exclusive? Ah. How very modern of you. And by ‘exclusive,’ I presume you mean that both of you agreed to not date anyone else, and instead, post your personal lives online for anyone who might care to comment?"

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning in despair. "You don’t get it, Dad! He’s playing games, and I can’t deal with this! Why does everything always have to be so hard?"

Severus stared at her, letting the weight of his silence sink in for a moment. Then, almost on instinct, he did what he did best: he deflected.

"You could, perhaps, spend your energy focusing on more… important matters," he said, his voice dry. "You know, things like your studies, or—dare I say it—anything outside of Zane’s social media feed."

She looked up from her hands, startled by the suggestion. "What’s the point? I know everything about this stuff already! It’s not like school is any better. People are, like, always judging me for—" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing. "For how I dress, or how I look, or whatever."

"People," Severus echoed, his tone distant. "Well, Y/N, allow me to remind you that people rarely understand anything of value, and when it comes to judgment, they tend to focus on the superficial. You—however—are anything but superficial. You have… depth."

Y/N blinked at him, clearly not expecting this. "You think I have depth?"

"Of course," Severus said, genuinely now. "A great deal of it. But that has nothing to do with Zane’s latest stunt on Instagram." He leaned forward, speaking in a rare moment of fatherly wisdom. "You will outgrow this phase. And when you do, you’ll look back on all of this and wonder why you ever let it affect you."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "You really think that?"

Severus' mouth twitched into a thin, sardonic smile. "I know that. I was a teenager once, too."

That hit harder than anything else, and for a moment, Y/N seemed to forget her personal crisis. "Wait. You? You went through… a phase too?"

"Of course," Severus said, leaning back, his fingers steepled before him. "I’m not immune to the whims of adolescent turmoil. I spent many years making poor choices in the name of identity. That’s… what being a teenager is, isn’t it? The search for something deeper, something more real, even if it comes with a great deal of melodrama."

Y/N blinked at him again, as though seeing him for the first time. "What did your phase look like?"

Severus' expression darkened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. "Let’s just say that I had a very specific taste in clothing, and a… particular fondness for the darker aspects of magic."

Y/N’s eyes widened. "You were an emo wizard?"

Severus’ lips quirked, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "I think you’d best be off to school, unless you plan on failing your O.W.L.s next year over a boy who doesn’t understand how to use his brain properly."

Y/N hesitated for a moment longer, staring at him as if trying to figure out if he was being sincere. Finally, she sighed.

"Okay, fine. But I’m not talking to Zane anymore. I’m over it." She said it with the finality of someone who was… definitely not over it.

Severus watched as she trudged back to her room, headphones in place, dramatic teenage angst in full swing once again. But there was a hint of something different in her expression—something that suggested she might actually be listening, even if she wasn’t fully ready to admit it.

And for the first time in a long while, Severus allowed himself to feel a fleeting sense of pride.

[twohearts-hs]

Always & Forever Five - Marshall Mathers x Reader Series

Words: 4.8k

Pairings: Marshall Mathers x Fem!Reader Series

Synopsis;: They loved each other with every fibre and being. They knew that they were meant to be together, but it seemed like every obstacle came in the way. She was twenty-one, he was forty and they knew that it would be hard. Therefore, they promised forever and always as they were meant to be together despite every turmoil that came their way.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, Cannabis, Light Smut & Angst. More warnings will come throughout the series.

|| Masterlist for Series ||

Hope you enjoy :)

June 2012

Was she that drunk? Who knew? However, when she woke up, she did not feel like a truck hit her, rather she was tired and a little slow, but it was fine.

Her eyes fluttered and she smelled fresh brew coffee. Then she felt someone stroking her face. Eyes opening gently, she peered to see Marshall sitting on her bed stroking her face.

“Is it nine already?”

“It’s ten. Thought you needed to sleep a little longer. I definitely did.”

Y/N rubbed her eyes and rolled over to look at the clock and it indeed in bright red digits said 10:12 a.m. However, a groan came from her as she rolled over to the other side.

“Undress and come in,” she whispered.

Marshall chuckled but shook his head. “That sounds tempting but I brought coffee and breakfast.”

“Food,” she whispered in disgust.

“You need to eat.”

“Just sleep with me.”

He did not want to say this, but he did, “Aren’t you meeting Jake at three?”

“Fuck.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to go.”

“If I don’t, I will miss a hot rockstar.”

“You have a hot hip-hop star in front of you.”

“Yeah, but this hip-hop star doesn’t want to make me scream,” she whispered almost inaudible but he heard it.

“You think that dude can make you scream?” he quipped. “He is like a child. Baby-faced and all teenage-boy like.”

“He is twenty-six, thank you and he is chiselled and hot.”

“I see,” he said as she rolled back over to see him sitting on her bed. It was not worth it to fight it. Y/N pushed herself up onto her elbows as she looked at her friend.

“Take the hood off and let me see your pretty face. Hat too.”

Marshall chuckled and took his hood off and hat, placing it on her head.

“Better,” she mused with a grin. “I am supposed to work at 1 today,” she stated realising all of a sudden. “Fuck, I can’t see Mr. Rockstar.” Marshall pursed his lips, halting his smile. He did not want to admit he had glee for this news. “Where is my phone?”

Y/N found her phone on the floor, plugged in.

9:43 a.m.

From unknown: Hey, its Jake…again. Thinking of the Broken Cup for coffee today! Hope you’re not too hung over.

She felt so guilty.

10:21 a.m.

To Jake: Hey. I totally forgot I am supposed to work today at 1pm. Off at nine if you want to grab a bite?

From Jake: No worries! I have practice then :(. Tomorrow?

To Jake: I have work…AGAIN. Thursday?

From Jake: Recording till 7pm then free.

To Jake: Friday?

From Jake: Playing a show. Wanna come? We can grab a drink before?

To Jake: Deal! Can I bring a friend…not to the drink but to show?

From Jake: As long as it’s not that dude from last night.

To Jake: It’s the chick I was with before you scared her off.

Marshall cleared his throat and Y/N glanced up.

“If you would like to know I am not seeing Rockstar till Friday. We are grabbing one drink,” she held up a finger, “and I am going to his show.”

He slowly nodded but he could not care less…about Jake. Not about the situation. A piece of him despised the situation.

“Want to eat something? Please eat something.”

Marshall got up and pulled her out of bed. However, she was in underwear and a tee shirt. Y/N did not care until she looked down.

“Let me put something on,” she whispered running to her closet. Finding a pair of sweats, she pulled them on before looking at the kitchen to see a brown paper bag.

“It’s from my favourite restaurant,” he stated as he walked to it.

Y/N settled on the barstool as he placed a coffee in front of her. “Two sugars and creams,” he hummed. “And I did not know what to get for food, so I got na omelette as that is what you ate at my house yesterday and…” he was rambling he realised.

“Perfect,” she replied, “let me know how much I owe you and for the Chinese.”

He glanced up from opening the bag as she brought the coffee to her lips. “You don’t owe me anything,” he stated.

“Fine. I will buy dinner next time,” she stated, “and breakfast. You cannot argue with me.”

She did not need to do that; however friends buy each other dinner. Friends share.

“Deal.”

Marshall placed the plastic container in front of her as he searched the small kitchen for cutlery before finding them. He settled beside her with his own meal in front of him.

“I bought the girls breakfast too,” he stated.

“And you saved yours to dine with me? I am spoiled,” she quipped.

He chuckled. “Feel honoured.”

“God, I feel extremely honoured.”

“Good.”

She looked over at him and smiled. He was a pretty man and she admired him. Y/N bumped her shoulder against his and mumbled her thanks as she ate her meal.

They chatted during their meal. Y/N asked him about his weekend plans and he said that he might pop to the studio later, but he was unsure. They chatted before her phone lit up with her mother calling.

“I told you, she calls every day,” she stated, “want to meet my mom?”

His face fell. Mom? Her mother. The woman who raised her…

“What I meant is can I mention you to her? I can tell her I have a good friend named Marshall.”

“I would like that.”

Y/N answered the phone call. It lasted three minutes but it was enough for her. Small talk was said until Y/N said, “I am just having breakfast with my friend, Marshall.” The phone was on speaker as she ate.

“Marshall!” she exclaimed. “A man?”

“Yeah,” Y/N chuckled. “My friend, Marshall.”

“When did Marshall come in your life?”

“Recently. We met and we hit it off and he bought me breakfast.”

“That is very nice of Marshall.”

“M, want to say, hi?”

“Hi,” he exclaimed, “I’m Marshall.”

“Did Marshall stay over?”

A blush rose to her cheeks. “No. Marshall picked me up from the club last night and dropped me home which was very nice of him. Went home and then he bought me breakfast and refused for me to pay him back.”

“Buy him a bottle of Canadian whiskey in thanks. Always solves the debt.”

She chuckled awkwardly. “He doesn’t drink. Teetotaler. Anyway, spoiled here. Meira ditched me but I wined with a lovely guitarist and I am going on a date with him on Friday.”

“Oh! That is exciting. You can tell me more later but enjoy your time with Marshall. Much love.”

“Bye, Mama.”

“Bye, you two!”

“Every day she calls?” he pipped.

“Every single day. Get used to it.”

The two of them ate their breakfast before Y/N cleaned up. He watched as she threw the containers into the trash and then placed another pot of coffee on. She flowed so effortlessly through her kitchen. He admired her. Watched her.

“If you’re free tonight. Like after work,” he began, “wanna swing by the studio?”

“I would,” she stated as she grabbed her clothes from the bathroom, she ripped off last night and threw them into the laundry basket, “but I have a paper due Tuesday. I need to get started on it.”

“Do it at the studio.”

“Rap music and art history…don’t mix, buddy,” she stated.

“Don’t call me buddy,” he mocked.

“Bro. Homie. Sport. Champ. Mate. Pal-“

“Enough.”

She chuckled. “I am going to quickly shower and then get dressed.”

He nodded.

Y/N walked to her bathroom and stripped down to bare. Placing the shower on, she waited for a moment for it to heat up before she walked in. It was quick shower not a everything showers but enough to properly clean her face and to get rid of the sweat.

“Marshall?” she called.

“Yeah?”

Y/N stood in the bathroom naked. She did the laundry yesterday and totally forgot to grab a towel.

“Can you grab me a towel?” she asked. “It’s in the corner by the door.”

Marshall walked around the kitchen to the door where the closet was. He grabbed a pink one before walking to the door to the bathroom. He knocked.

Y/N’s head popped out before her hand appeared. “Thanks, you’re a star.”

He nodded before settling back to the kitchen. He glanced around and spotted the several textbooks on the coffee counter with her art books. Her bookshelf had classics from Jane Austen to Charlotte Brontë. Then she had a music collection beside it. Records of all forms of states. Old and new.

He flicked through them…rock and roll. The Rolling Stones, Cream, Led Zeppelin, Guns N’ Roses, Fleetwood Mac, Blondie, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Pink Floyd…and newer ones like Lana Del Rey, Coldplay, Green Day, Blink-182, Radiohead, The Strokes…she had such a beautiful music taste. Then he found it…and his smile grew…The Eminem Show from 2002. She had his record. A vinyl.

Y/N appeared in a towel as she looked through her closet.

“Your music taste is phenomenal,” he stated.

She looked over her shoulder, “Oh yeah, love music.”

“I also love how you have this,” he pulled the vinyl from the container and held it up. It did not look new. It looked old with rough edges and peeling paper…definitely loved.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder again and saw the album. “Oh my God, I forgot I had that,” she stated as she walked towards him in her towel. “It is my mom’s. I stole it when I was fifteen and added it to the collection.”

Marshall chuckled. “Here,” he said, walking over to her desk and grabbing a Sharpie. She watched as he signed the record.

“I am flattered,” she stated, “Eminem signed my rusty old record for the dinosaur age.”

“Dinosaur age?” he mocked. “Take that back!”

She threw her hands up in surrender but quickly resulted to throwing them back down as her towel slipped. Half of her breast was flashed…just above the nipple. “You got lucky,” she quipped, “let’s call it even.”

Marshall chuckled as she went back to her closet. Jeans and the red shirt she wore for the diner with Ted’s logo on it. Y/N pulled underwear on under the towel before dropping it. Her back was to him, but he could not help but look. Her body was beautiful with curves and perfection. Y/N pulled a sports bra on and threw her jeans and shirt on before turning around to see him quickly glanced away.

She did not care instead she quickly Dutch-braided her hair in two and then threw on some light makeup. Marshall sat on her couch as they chatted.

“Do you have summer plans?” he eventually asked.

“Yeah. Going back home at the end of July. My grandparents have a place on the water and a boat, so we are going fishing,” she stated. “I am only gone for two weeks.”

He nodded. “That’ll be nice.”

“Yeah! You?”

“Working on the album. Hailie graduated which is crazy therefore I will help her move to dorms in August.”

“Lovely,” she quipped as she walked around the apartment packing her bag for work. Marshall watched her.

“Y/N,” he pipped.

“Yeah?”

“I am not mad at you anymore,” he said. Y/N stopped in her tracks to look at him. “About last night.”

She licked her lips and nodded. “I was the fool. I was stupid. You asked for me to give you updates and I was consumed with the attention of another guy. Then I made you take-“

“You did not make me. I chose to.”

“I don’t want to trigger or upset you on your sober journey.”

“Y/N. I am not bothered by people being drunk. I have daughters…who have gone to high school parties, and I have had to pick them up. I go to events where alcohol is served. I don’t mind as long as you don’t force me or rub it in my face.”

“Ok.”

“I care for you. I have a lot of devotion to you.”

“Its likewise, M. I care for you deeply.”

Marshall dropped her off at work at one o’clock before going to the studio. They texted throughout the day but mainly, she continued to text Jake.

She could not wait till Friday.

-

Y/N did not see Marshall for the rest of the week. He texted and reached out, but she was busy finishing her classes and writing the final papers before going to work. However, they kept in touch. She did miss him.

Friday came around. Y/N stood in front of the closet naked and confused on what to wear. Drinks. It was drinks at the bar downtown and then she was meeting him at a show. What could she wear in the event of this? Her hair was done in simple curls and her makeup was finished. However, she stood in front of the closet.

What the fuck does she wear?

Pants? Skirt? Dress?

She had twenty minutes to get changed before she needed to catch the bus. Eventually, she settled on ripped jeans and a The Rolling Stones band tee from an old tour she collected. She threw her hair into a pony and grabbed her hoop earrings before rushing out the door.

Jake was sitting in the bar. He was settled in the booth in the corner patiently waiting for her. She was not late. She was on time. However, a whiskey sat in front of him.

He wore jeans and a linen button-up that was not fully button. His chest was shown lightly as he had pendants that hung. His hair was pulled back in a lower bun. A cutie, he was.

“Hey, you,” Y/N pipped as she stood in front of the booth. Jake looked up and instantly smiled. He got up and hugged her lightly before settling down in the booth.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good. Really good.”

-

Never in her life had she seen a rock and roll show like that. The fireworks, the sound, the riffs, the show…the people, the sound…the lights. It was a throwback. It was as if old rock and roll came back to life, and she was enamoured by it. A smile glistened her face throughout it all and he played with such fire.

The way his fingers danced along the neck as his hand-picked the notes, he played with ferocity. He was above talented and she could see why they won American Idol and why they got signed with Interscope. It is a show. It was entertainment.

Now, she was backstage. Jake’s arm was around her shoulders as he pressed a sweaty kiss to her cheek.

“How did you like it?”

“It was,” she could not find the words, “wonder.”

“Meet my brothers,” he said as he brought her further backstage. There stood three guys in similar suits. “Josh my older brother,” he stated, “and vocalist. Sawyer my little brother the bassist,” he introduced, “and Logan the drummer who is also little brother.”

She hugged each one of them.

“This is Y/N,” he said, “my…date,” he said with confidence.

“Hi!” she pipped. “Wonderful show. I have not seen a concert like that since I went to Green Day.”

They all smiled.

“Want a beer, Y/N?” Josh said.

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

A few drinks later and nearing midnight, Y/N was having a grand of a time. Laughter and smiles were shared. They sat in a bar now sharing stories. She was happy and having the time of her life. She felt the alcohol lightly. A little tipsy but not drunk. She knew her surroundings, she knew her choices but as the night grew older, she knew it was time for her to go home.

Another round of beers was shared as they all joked around and chatted. However, Y/N glanced at her phone to see the time – 12:21 a.m.

She had work at eight on Saturday which meant she should go back home.

When the laughter died down, she leaned into Jake. “I have to go. I work early.”

He hummed. Arm over her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Wanna share a cab?”

She nodded as they bid their farewells and got into the cab. Jake placed his hand on her thigh innocently as he leaned over.

“We could have a night cap?” he mused.

She closed her eyes. “If we have a night cap…I would have three and then you would end up in my bed which is dangerous,” she whispered back. “I work at eight in the morning. I need to go to bed.”

“When you’re off?” he mused, flicking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Eight.”

“Twelve hours?”

She nodded.

“What are you doing tomorrow night? I had a good time seeing you and I would like to see you again.”

“Nine at my place tomorrow? I can make you dinner.”

“Deal,” he said as he bit his lip lightly.

They hugged goodbye as she walked into her apartment. Toeing her shoes off, a smile was graced across her face. He was something. Something good.

-

Y/N hadn’t seen Marshall since that last Saturday and she felt guilty for not keeping up. She learnt he is not a fan of texting and rather would call. However, when he texted her around one p.m. on Saturday about asking if she wanted to have dinner at his place, she had a inner debate.

Jake or Marshall?

She chose Jake.

2:12 p.m.

To Marshall: Sorry, love. Got plans with Jake tonight. Tomorrow? I am off at 3pm?

From Marshall: Ok. Having lunch with the girls. Will let you know.

-

Jake came over at exactly nine o’clock to her apartment. She watched him take off his shoes as he wandered around the studio apartment. Y/N turned on the lamps creating dim lighting as she opened the bag of take out from the diner.

“I was lazy and ordered. Perks for having a discount at the diner,” she stated.

Jake paused his wandering to look at her. “That is fine.”

“Want a drink?” she pipped.

His eyes glanced around the room, seeing the artistic décor and the series of records hanging and the murals that covered the white wall.

“You never mentioned you’re an artist,” he stated.

Y/N shrugged. “I told you I study art.”

“Studying art and doing art are different things,” he pipped.

“It never came up,” she hummed as she opened the cupboard to grab the bottle of gin. “I’m having a G&T, want one?”

Jake nodded, sitting down on the couch and grabbing her sketchbook on the counter. He flipped through it as she came closer to him with drinks and food. It was comfortable seeing him across from her, with her book open.

His eyes narrowed at all the pictures. “Everyone is naked.”

“I think nudity is beautiful.”

He flipped again and saw a picture she drew yesterday. It was a memory of last week with Marshall watching him sleep. She drew his tattoos perfectly and his facial expression like a photograph. Jake narrowed in trying to put the face with a name.

“Are these all-real people?”

“Yes.”

“People, you know?”

“Yes.”

“Then who is this?” he asked, turning the sketchbook over to her.

“My friend.”

“The one from the club?”

She nodded.

“He is just a friend?” he asked.

“Only my friend.”

“Then why did you draw a picture of him sleeping?”

“I slept over.”

“Why?”

“Why all the questions?”

“Because,” he sighed, “I like you. I want something with you. Something serious.”

“He is my friend. I slept over as I fell asleep on his couch.”

“You slept in the same bed as him?”

“I would do the same if he was a woman. Plus, it was before I met you,” she explained. Y/N got up and walked to her record collection and brought a Fleetwood Mac vinyl onto the record player. Dreams began to play.

“We all have a history,” he said.

“Marshall and I don’t have history. We are friends.”

“Then I believe you,” he said, and she smiled.

Y/N sat down on the couch, leaning back and curling her toes under her. He was respectful, giving her space and not asking too many questions but enough to know if she was serious too.

If Jake had a girl friend who he slept with, she would have questions too.

They began to talk more. How he grew up three hours North of here in a small town and never thought he would leave. He had humour, he was kind, and she would say there was a sadness to him that he won’t disclose.

“Do you smoke?” he asked later on in the night. Their takeout was eaten and a few drinks were drunk.

“Like cigarettes or cannabis?”

“Both?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N changed into sweats and a white tank top before settling back on the couch. “I don’t mind a joint here and there.”

However, it seemed like he did not hear her comment, rather he was focused on her tits.

“Eyes up here, handsome.”

“I can see your nipples.”

“And if you sweet talk me a little more you might get to see other parts.”

He chuckled. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Do you want to smoke?” Y/N asked.

They shared a joint, giggling as they talked about nothing. She had Rumours in the background and slowly, she got up, arms out for Jake to take. He chuckled.

“Dance with me,” she hummed.

He rose a brow.

“Come on. It will be fun. Get your party on rockstar.”

Finally, he took her hands and twirled Y/N around. She giggled, throwing her head back as he led the way. It was ballroom dancing, twirling and ducking her. It was a thrill. They shook their asses and danced around like idiots.

All one could hear was laughter and both of them felt so good.

Y/N had no laughed like that in ages and as the night went on, she realised how good Jake was. He was funny and fun. He was a flirt. He was a thrill.

ake grasped her hands, pulling her in before pressing his lips to hers. She paused, pulling away for a moment.

“Shit, Y/N,” he exclaimed. “I thought we were having a moment and-“

Y/N cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips to hers again. He tasted like gin and weed. The kiss was slow, wrapping her arm around his neck as he picked her up.

“Jake,” she moaned.

“Shhh.”

They kissed as he held her against the wall. Her hands ran through his hair as their lips moved. It was not rushed or sweaty or hot. It was not full of lust. Simply, it was a kiss filled with wonder and curiosity. Eventually, they stopped.

“I-I,” she stuttered. “I think you should go,” she whispered.

He shook his head and smirked. “I agree. Should I go here?” Jake hummed, kissing her jaw. “Or here?” he kissed her neck.

Jake was beautiful and he made her feel something in that moment that she could not describe. It was the feeling of…”Oh finally” if that made sense. However, she was uneasy.

A piece of her felt like this was wrong.

However, she pushed that feeling aside and kissed him again as they sat on the couch, his hands cupped her ass as their lips slowly tangled. They were smiling in the kiss, laughing in between then finally when she pulled away, Y/N gazed into his eyes.

“I want to know the secrets behind your orbs,” he whispered.

“What?”

“You hold secrets.”

“We all have them.”

“I know, but you’re a very mysterious creature,” he stated.

Y/N rolled off of him and walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. However, Jake followed her, standing behind her in the kitchen. His arms wrapped around her as he began to press kisses along her neck, pushing her tank top up.

“Jake,” she whispered, “we can’t.”

Jake rolled his head back groaning. Y/N turned around and trapped him between her and the counter.

“I want to taste you,” he said with confidence.

It felt wrong. Ever since Marshall touched her the other week, the idea of another man touching her… was scary and wrong.

Suddenly, she had goose bumps run through her and panic strike.

“We need to stop,” she said, pushing past him and walking away.

Jake watched. “I am sorry. I misread the situation. We can go slow. I am sorry I overstepped,” Jake rambled, reaching out and rubbing her back in comfort. “What can help calm you down? Wanna talk? Draw?”

She glanced up and nodded.

“Draw?” he asked.

“Can I draw on you and we talk? I like your company.”

“On me? Like give me temporary tattoos?” Y/N nodded. “Ok.”

Jake took his t-shirt off, and her breath hitched. He was gorgeous, sculpted…abs and muscles built and thick. Slowly, she ran her finger down his abs.

“Y/N,” he whispered, and she glanced up, “please do not think you are not special. You are very special.”

A small smile came from her. She needed to hear that.

Jake laid down on couch, hand behind his head as she began to take the Sharpie and drew on him. Every time she touched him, a blush rose to her cheeks.  

“What was Ladysmith like growing up?” he asked.

“Small,” she whispered, “everyone knew everyone. However, no one left. Everyone would come back to Ladysmith if they leave. My mother was a hippie and lived the life of peace, love and sex on the coast but even her came back.”

“Do you think you will go back?” he asked looking at her.

She was focused on her drawing. “I don’t know. Depends on where I go, who I meet.”

“What about Marshall?”

“Marshall is from Detroit. He won’t leave even for me.”

“You love him,” he whispered.

“I have love for him. I am not in love with him.”

“No,” he whispered, “women and men can’t be friends. He loves you and you love him.”

“I have known him for like a month.”

“Oh. He is older?”

“Yeah. Thirty-nine.”

“You like older?”

“I like people.”

“What does Marshall do?”

“Why all the questions?”

“Because the girl I like is in love with another man. Got to know the competition.”

“He is an artist like you and me.”

“I am not an artist not like you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Some people are artists while others are art themselves.”

Jake smirked. “I am art?”

Y/N nodded. “You’re beautiful, Jake.”

His eyes and face fell. She hit it…an insecurity. She watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down.

“Jake, you are art. I am sitting here, graffitiing on a piece of art. You are rare. Sculpted like David by Michelangelo.”

He bit his lip.

“And these scars,” she whispered touching his ribs which created him to shiver, “are the details that make you priceless.”

Y/N continued to draw on him as he told her facts about his life or random details. They debated on topics about the world and by three in the morning, his chest, shoulders and arms were covered in her artwork.

Jake stood in her bathroom in front of the mirror as he looked over his body. His face was still no emotion and suddenly, she was nervous and anxious. Did he not like it?

He turned to her smiling as he took her hand, pressing it against his chest.

“You’re talented.”

She chuckled. “They are just doodles.”

“No. Masterpieces. I am now tempted to live my rockstar life and get tatted.”

Jake watched himself in the mirror as he held her hand against his chest, dragging it up and down. She watched the goose bump rise on his skin and his lip trembled.

“Who broke you?” she found herself whispering.

“I am not broken.”

“You have scars in your eyes.”

“And you do too.” Jake pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her as they rocked.

Y/N pulled away, confidence growing as she removed her tank top. Her breasts fell and Jake sucked a breath in. He was mesmerised, fingers grazing her skin.

“It is only fair. You’re shirtless so I am too.”

Jake quickly scrambled taking his pants off as well and stood in his boxers and socks. She followed.

“You’re gorgeous.”

As their lips met, she fell for him. Deep and hard. They formed a relationship that night. They were not quite together but they were borderline. He was a fantastic lover, pleasuring her ways she never thought she could be pleasured.

Beauty, he was and she fell for him.

-

Hope you enjoyed Chapter 5 :)

Love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

Much love,

Ava

[siremasterlawrence]

Hypno House Part 4

The clouds arrive over our building as a sign of total and utter level of self destruction at its greatest and highest level as the blast of decoration of lightening dancing through the sky. It comes crashing through the ceiling hitting the floor it causes a schism in the middle of a red line dividing me and the four cute male clients whom have designs on Alan but will learn their faith soon enough. The thunder rolls slamming in to the sky so lit as the four men begin to pursue me for more perspective celebrity clientele that I can capture and use for their meaningless commercial.A single snap of my fingers as the lights are blinking on and off in their eyes as they can not help staring in to it and heads roll lifting up in to the sky and all that matters is what they see. My plan has been sprung as I manger to be able to escape the room as the metal door slip upwards in to the ceiling as I race from harm and watch the events ensue as the entirety of the room is locked down. A small circle open up as a pipe drops in to the room unloading a blast of gas brewing up and filling the room up til the brim of the ceiling and brushing them in to darkness as their eyes close and they fall to the floor.They spent the rest of the night filling up to the top with the gas as they woke up in the morning to find all four men mindless under my power forever and I woke up as his body rises to his feet. I wave at them as they soon focus solely on me as I instruct them to follow me in to my room the laboratory and sit in the specially made mechanical chairs I produced for them as the strapped are made of electrodes. I will be in a gleeful spiral of ecstasy as he rose to his feet letting his clothes fly in to the air as he undresses himself as he fell to the floor and dancing it off his body is so damn sexy.

Where do all of the broken hearts go? The song is playing loud as this man a failure of his own evil product stand in front of me ready and able to disrobe for me he is so perfectly hot. He is fully erect in a slim red jacket on top of a white tee and tight jeansas he dances a bit to my delight he is better then I thought he would be that’s for sure so smooth. The man has no choice in his thoughts, mind or physical appeal with love, lust, needs and desire overcoming him as he strips so slow and very seductively his clothes ripping in a flow throughout the room he is mine now and I want him. It is my greatest pleasure toface him head on cupping his chin as he is pulling him closer to me as we kiss and he is slinks in to my arm and I swing him down in to a deep slumber.Snapping fingers one more time he freezes on my command he stood motionless stark naked in the middle room he is prepared to receive my power, pain and pleasure all in one blow. I form a fist punching him to the ground as the blow could be heard with a simple and single sound ricocheting around the room hitting wall to wall straight to his room. Something is off as the sound bouncing off the wall right in to his ears as he tripping on his feet as he stumbles backwards on to the wall in the back room and sliding down to the ground. In to a deep, deeper and even deeper coma like state resting away what is left of his old life and I without a second look of thought I take advantage roaming on to his body.

In the other room my next slave awaits for my command as he also sleeps away but his mind totally active forming a dream to come true and I am drawn in to him as he continues to become more and more close to being my thrall.

“But Master! Wait please!”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“You think you can ask me to enslave Alan and it will be ok.”

“There is always a reaction to actions “

“No! No way !”

“You can’t escape! Why fight me?”

“I am a shamed but “

“But nothing “

“Grow up and accept “

“You enslaved me”

“You and Grant”

“You are cold and cruel”

“Cruel huh? You have no idea “

“What are you saying ?”

“Look at me and focus on my eyes “

“Yes…”

“Yes who?”

“Master Lawrence “

“Grant and Justin go make out for me.” I say to both of them.

“Does that mean you have time to me?”

“Glenn! Of course I have time for you”

“How long Master?”

“As long as I choose “

“Did I do a good job dressing for me?”

“Will you serve me?”

“All of my life! Master please “

“Yes! You are so sexy”

“Do I make you hard sir?

“Hard? You satisfy me in all ways “

“Greatest pleasure in the world”

“This is twisted! I gave in so easily “

“Amazing my slave! Why not fight ?”

“Because it is so sweet I can’t deny it”

“You are my God!”

“Explain it!”

“I am in world wind, I am under your thrall and I love you.”

Poor Andrew is strapped to another bed with virtual goggles and gold headphones covering his head as well as his face with the lights flicking on blasting my programs into his head. He struggles at first as his life rolls in front of him as he drags in to a dream getting dressed for the night in a white tuxedo and rushes over to meet andgreet me.

“Master Lawrence “

“I love you “

“I am kneeling for you “

The end

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: nonidol!minho/nonidol!felix. minlix are professional dancers. childhood bfs to lovers au. confession au. post-breakup blues. angst!! fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. felix pov.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. thematic elements. there's angst in here (felix's in an abusive relationship, a scary incident happens between him and his ex). mentions of physical assault/violence is detailed. sexual assault is also alluded to. minho is really soft for him in this and takes care of felix a lot because... he's his baby. smut warnings below cut!! 

word count: 9.6k

summary: felix thought he'd always be with his long-term boyfriend jicheul, until one drunken night ruins everything they'd built up together. and the only person he can turn to in his time of crisis is his childhood best friend, minho.

18+ warnings: dom!felix x sub!minho (but also they're both switches). minho finally gets to be the bottom in this one. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). anal sex/fingering. jerking off happens. one hot blowjob. slight degradation (but not too much this time). pet names (baby boy, darling, kitten, etc). dirty thoughts/fantasies. LOTS of hair pulling & lube. slight breeding kink (🙄). dacryphilia. somewhat dumbification. overstimulation. nipple play. lots of dirty talk. subspace. loud sex.

a/n: first of all, this is dedicated to my lovely friend @cb97breathing... I love you sm and I hope this brightens up your day if only by just a tiny bit, honey!! 🤎 I felt like writing something angsty, so my original idea turned out to be a minlix piece. honestly, this one was a little hard to write since it brought up bad memories of my past abuse, but I like how it turned out so that's a win haha! enjoy, you guys!! ✨

💙 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

Lee Felix never intended for things to get this far. 

He never meant to let everything escalate to this extent. 

After having met Jicheul during his freshman year in university, he was all starry-eyed with love for the man. And for a while, everything was amazing. It felt like he was living in a dream - floating above the clouds thanks to his love. 

But then the change started ever so subtly. 

During their first anniversary, Jicheul had spent the night before drinking and partying with his friends at a nearby club. And when he came back home to their shared apartment that morning, he was drunk out of his mind. 

When Felix tried to get him sober by making him some hangover stew and brewing him some green tee - Jicheul blew up at him. Cursing him out, smashing a nearby plate onto the kitchen's tiled floor. Then he was storming out of the apartment before Felix could even register what was going on. 

On their first anniversary, they didn't celebrate it together. For one thing, because Felix didn't see his boyfriend for the entire until late that night. And secondly, because he couldn't pick himself up from his bed - buried deep under the covers, sobbing for hours on end because his boyfriend had practically abandoned him on such a special day.

That day, he cried so much that he physically ached by the time Jicheul returned home. His chest hurt so fucking much, and his eyes were puffy from all of the tears. But then Jicheul apologized to him, giving him a bouquet of red roses, and all was well in the world. 

Although, Felix never told anyone else about his boyfriend's outburst. None of his family or friends knew about the broken dishes and spewed curses, and that's how he wanted things to stay. 

But ever so slightly, over his sophomore year, Felix realized that he was pushing away his friends and family. He didn't see them quite as often anymore, and when he did, his mind was occupied with thoughts of his boyfriend - what he was doing right then and who he was with. 

Felix watched on the sidelines of his life, as Jicheul gradually pulled him away from his entire support system. Like an infection that lazily spread throughout his body, his boyfriend took up everything - his thoughts, his habits, his entire life. 

He chose to ignore the snide comments from his boyfriend - when he'd wear certain outfits or when he'd hang out with certain friends around the university. That's just his way of showing he cares about me, Felix always thought whenever Jicheul would degrade him for something. 

And before Felix knew it, they were both graduating and celebrating their fourth anniversary together. But once again, just like their first and third one, Jicheul was nowhere to be found. All day, he was out of the house - and with each second that he was gone, Felix's heart broke just a little bit more. 

When he finally arrived home to a sad-faced Felix, Jicheul rolled his eyes exasperatingly. "Oh fuck- I forgot, didn't I?" He said, voice all gruff from a long day at work. He had just started his new job at a local architect firm and they were working him to the bone with overtime. 

Felix couldn't even find it in himself to say anything, instead swallowing around the dry lump forming in his throat. After that, Jicheul came over to him on the living room couch and sat down slowly. 

"Let me make it up to you, hun," Jicheul started, leaning down to capture his lips up into a passionate kiss. "Let me fuck you nice and good for our special day, okay?" 

And Felix didn't even say anything after that, instead choosing to let him take the lead. Before he knew it, Jicheul had them completely bare and was fucking him atop the living room couch, hands gripping tightly into his hips as his cock stretched him open. 

"Feels good?" Jicheul asked, tucking a few strands of Felix's whispy blonde hair behind his ear. He thrust up into him a little more, the squelching sounds of lube and cum mixing around the apartment. 

"Yeah, feels nice." 

But Felix was lying. 

It didn't feel nice, not at all. 

It felt super fucking painful. 

He wasn't in the mood and he couldn't even bring himself to cum at the end. So instead, he faked it, like he had done many times with Jicheul before. Felix was too depressed to feel anything blissful at that moment - head swimming with too many thoughts about them and their uncertain relationship. 

For one thing, Jicheul fucked him way too hard. Although Felix liked it rough sometimes, he also liked things to be soft and gradual. Jicheul was like a bull, charging right out of the gate as soon as they had their clothes off. And initially, that had been something really hot to Felix. But after four years of the same raw power, the blonde male was pretty fucking sick of it all. 

It wasn't until some months later after Felix had landed a job teaching dance at a local studio, that everything fell apart. The day had been long and some of his students hadn't listened to his teachings, which made things even worse for him. 

As he stepped through the door to their apartment, he noticed how all of the lights were off. He froze in the kitchen when he saw a shadowy form sitting on the living room couch. 

Running a hand through his hair, Felix sighed heavily. "Ji? Is that you?" He asked out into the gloam, too tired to even flip on a light. 

"Where were you?" He could hear his boyfriend's voice extend out across the apartment, serious and monotone. 

It was only then that Felix noticed the bottles of soju strewn across the kitchen's granite countertop. Oh fuck- not again. They had never really talked about Jicheul's drinking habit, it was just the elephant in the room that was always there. 

And when he drank, he got violent.

"Uhm- I have work at night, remember? I was at the studio." Felix said, beginning to clear the countertop of the bottles and throwing them into the recycling bin. "I thought you knew." 

"No, I didn't fucking know!" Jicheul exploded, and before Felix could even register the movement in the shadows, his boyfriend was right in front of him in the kitchen, all looming height and broad shoulders. "Are you fucking cheating on me?" 

Felix stared up at him with wide eyes, the moonlight bleeding in from the nearby window, casting darkness across Jicheul's scowling face. "W-What? No, of course not! Why would you even-"

"I saw you with him..." Jicheul started, voice low as death. Felix looked down to see his hands balled into tight fists at his side, and he could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reeked of it. "With that- loser." 

Felix frowned at that, the insult burning deep inside his veins and causing the anger to rise in his heart. "He's not a loser, Ji. he's my best friend." 

"Best friends don't hold each other's waists and lean in to whisper shit to each other." 

"Well maybe if you had a friend, you'd know when to tell the difference between romantic touch and platonic touch."

Felix didn't know why he had said it. It just... slipped out. The words fell from his mouth before he could even comprehend what he was insinuating. 

And the next thing he knew, Jicheul was glaring down at him with that same devilish expression he sometimes got when he was especially angry after a drink. "Oh- you worthless piece of shit." He roared out, and before Felix could even react, he was moving again. 

His head twisted towards the right, left cheek burning from the impact. Squaring his shoulders, Felix stared back at Jicheul. At that moment- there was nothing there. Felix felt utter emptiness, a shell of the person he had once been. 

"I should teach you a lesson, huh?" Jicheul continued, hitting his cheek again with his fisted knuckle. "Teach you how to be my good little bitch." 

He was wrestling Felix onto the kitchen floor in the next breath, legs coming around Felix's hips as he reached out to his face again and again. The blows were loud inside Felix's ears, his vision bursting to life every time Jicheul took a hit. 

He could feel his face growing puffy, his heart beating wildly in his chest as the pain began to spread across his body. He desperately tried and failed to pry Jicheul off of his form - but the older male was too tall and strong to fend off. 

And when Jicheul fit his two meaty hands around Felix's neck, everything came to a standstill. The gloam of the apartment bent and twisted around them, as he squeezed just a little harder. 

"Fucking useless cunt- think you can cheat on me with that fucker from your childhood." Jicheul was spitting out, breathing down on Felix's face as his fingers dug into his windpipes. 

Desperately, Felix grabbed at his wrists, trying to pull Jicheul off of him. "P-Please, I-" He gasped out for dear life, the tears streaming down his face, running across his cheeks and into his hairline. 

"Yeah, that's right... Beg for it, you bitch. Beg for my mercy." His voice was venomous and seething, but already growing faint in Felix's ears.

He was losing air, and fast. If he didn't do something drastic, he'd die at the hands of Jicheul. "Please, Ji- I'm sorry, please- I won't see him again, ever. I promise, j-just please!" He sobbed out in a scream, the sound of it echoing around the apartment walls in a resonant, horrifying kind of way. 

Jicheul peered down at him with a deep sneer, white teeth glinting in the darkness as the foul scent of soju danced around them. "I could kill you right now- kill you for your worthlessness." He began, nails clawing at the column of Felix's neck and drawing blood as the younger scrambled to get free. He felt lightheaded, eyes rolling into the back of his skull from the agony of it all. "But I won't... because I wanna teach you a lesson," then, almost as quickly as it had started, he was letting go of Felix. "That if you ever go behind my back again- I will end you." 

Felix gasped out, taking in shallow breaths as his lungs filled up with precious air again. Jicheul said nothing more after that, leaving him a pile of messy, bloody flesh and limbs on the kitchen floor there. And before he knew it, Felix could hear the resounding slam of the front door. 

Just like that, it was all over. 

For a few heart-pounding minutes, Felix lay there. The cool tile underneath him soothed his inflamed skin. His fingers hurt from the clawing he had been doing at Jicheul, and everything else was in burning agony - his face and neck. 

But especially, his heart. 

Finally, coming to terms with what he had to do, the blonde male rose from the floor on shaky legs. He wobbled over to their shared bedroom, ignoring the bed they had fucked on top of for so many years and stumbling over to the closet. He ignored the burning in his heart and the searing pain radiating across his face. In a matter of minutes, he had a duffle bag packed - stuffed to the brim with clothes and a few toiletries. 

Then he was hobbling over to the front door, slipping on his sneakers and fitting a severely oversized black hoodie over himself. You know, to cover up the abuse. He flitted out of the apartment in less than ten minutes, frantically looking around to make sure the coast was clear. 

He had no plan for the road ahead, but he did know who he could go to for help with figuring it all out. 

Lee Minho. 

His best friend since childhood and the single most person Jicheul had continually thought Felix was cheating on him with. The accusations had been brewing for years, things Jicheul would throw Felix's way whenever he was extremely angry with work or drunk out of his mind. 

The hour to Minho's place was grueling, as Felix moved rather slowly through the subway station. But when he finally made it to Minho's apartment in the heart of Seoul, Felix took in a relieved breath. He didn't even know if he would be up - since it was so late at night. But seeing as he was also a professional dancer himself, Felix assumed Minho would've just gotten back from the studio. After all, he had been working on perfecting this one new choreo of his for the past two months. 

He rang the doorbell and knocked three times. For a few moments, nothing happened. The silence stretched on around him and the dread took over his entire system.

Maybe he wasn't home, maybe he was out having dinner with some friends, maybe he was still at the- 

But then the large door in front of him was swinging open, and a wave of Minho's scent washed over Felix - of sharp, woodsy cologne and deep roasted coffee beans. 

"Lix? What are you-" He began, voice a little incredulous with surprise.

Felix wasn't looking at him, he had his face pointed down to the ground, studying his shoes. The shame washed over him then, dragging down his shoulders and making his heart face. "D-Don't be mad at me... please." 

"Yongbok-ah..." Minho said in a quiet voice, using Felix's Korean name that his parents had given to him. Although he went by Felix, Minho was the only one who called him Yongbok on rare occasions. 

He found the courage inside himself to raise his head from its bent position, and the moment he met Minho's eyes, he knew he was a goner. 

Immediately, his best friend was gasping out loud sharply, fitting a hand over his mouth in utter shock as his eyes roved down the length of Felix's face and neck. He could only assume what he looked like just then - battered, bloody, and bruised. 

"I-I'm sorry, I-" Felix was already crying out, the sobs wracking through his entire body and making his heart beat out of his chest. 

But Minho said nothing more, and instead just pulled him through the doorway, closing and locking it behind him before he enveloped Felix in the tightest, warmest hug the younger had ever felt. 

"Yongbok..." Minho started in a quiet voice, hand running through the younger's blonde tresses as he cried harder at the name. "Yongbok-ah, what... what happened?" 

Felix just buried his face a little more in Minho's chest, clutching at his shirt for dear life as his tears blurred his vision. "D-Don't wanna talk about it..." He mumbled between his wails, legs growing weak from all of the mental exhaustion he had been dealing with for the past few hours. 

"Baby boy..." Minho said in a faint voice, the sound of the sweet pet name ghosting over the younger's ears and causing his mind to grow a little light-headed again. "Can you let me help you? Let me make it all better, hmm?" 

And how could Felix ever say no to that? Say no to his best friend that was trying - wanting to help him so fucking much, when no one else would? When his boyfriend had destroyed him so much. 

"Y-Yeah... yes please." Felix leaned away from his chest, peering up at Minho. The edges of his vision were cloudy, but he could still make out the way Minho stared down at him tenderly. And when he reached out to gently tuck a strand of Felix's hair behind his ear, the younger let him. He didn't flinch away, instead leaning into the touch. 

"Wanna pick you up... can I do that, sweetheart?" Minho asked. He always wanted to know what Felix wanted - he never did anything that made the younger feel uncomfortable. 

Felix found himself nodding in the next moment, and then Minho was picking him up from the ground bridal style, holding him close to his body and carrying him over to the bedroom where he sat him down atop the downy mattress before gathering up the first-aid kit. 

The silence fell between them after that, as Minho diligently worked to clean Felix's face up. He swiped rubbing alcohol against the cuts, applying a healing cream to the small ones on his neck before wrapping everything up in bandages. 

"It was...Jicheul," Felix began, while Minho tried to fix him up as best as he could. In the past, Felix had come to his best friend after incidents with Jicheul had happened - after they had gotten into a fight or Jicheul had broken something in the house out of anger. But nothing had been as bad as the present moment. "I came home from work and he had been drinking and he was fuming- spouting all this bullshit that I was cheating on him and then, the next thing I knew, we were on the ground and he was on top of me and-"

He didn't realize he was starting to cry again until Minho placed a delicate hand atop his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. "Kitten... you don't have to say anything more if you don't want to." 

Minho fit the first-aid supplies back into its container and sat back on his heels, taking Felix's hands into his and rubbing his thumbs across his knuckles slowly. "You know... I knew something like this would happen one day," he started to say, staring down at the way their hands were interlaced perfectly together. "After all the times you told me about his outbursts- it was only a matter of time before he turned everything onto you." 

"I know... I know, I should've listened to you and everyone else... all the warning signs and the things you guys told me. And left his sorry ass, but I didn't." 

Minho squeezed his hands a little bit then, forcing Felix to look up into his eyes and the way they held a delicate, sincere kind of light to them. "Honey... you were blindsided by the abuse. It's alright- I understand how such a thing can diminish your mind to a small thing." 

"I know you're mad at me." Felix stared down at his lap and the way that their hands entwined together so flawlessly. 

"Don't say that, Yongbok-ah," Minho said in a stern tone, just as he lifted Felix's hands to his mouth, offering his knuckles a gentle kiss. "I could never be angry at you. This isn't your fault- it never was. You were just the unfortunate person to get caught in the crossfire of... him." 

  Felix looked at him then. Like, really looked at his best friend. He saw so many emotions there on the elder's face - compassion, love, tenderness, and hidden beneath it all... rage. 

"I just... wanted to make you happy, you know?" Felix whispered, voice cracking at the end of his words with all the feelings he had right then. "I wanted to make you proud. That's all I've ever wanted to do-" 

"And you have, Yongbok-ah... you always do. Nothing you say or do could make me love you any less." 

"Yeah, but it sure feels like I've let you down." 

"It doesn't fucking matter how I feel, okay? You just escaped a psychopathic boyfriend, you are the main priority right now." Minho said in a grave voice, shaking his head slowly as he said the words. "Honestly, I should kill him with my bare hands for what he did to you- what he's been doing for the past five years." 

Felix gaped up at him, eyes growing wide with concern. "N-No, please... don't. I can't lose you too. If you get locked away, I think I'll fucking die." 

Minho leaned into him then, pressing their foreheads together gently. He chuckled softly, the warmth of it spreading across Felix's body and causing his heart to beat a little faster. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything drastic. I just... I'm really fucking angry right now, that's all." 

"At me?" Felix asked, suddenly filled with so much concern again. 

Minho leaned away just a tiny bit from him then, so close, that Felix could feel his warm breath fanning against his face. "No, never at you, Lixie." Then he was reaching out, brushing a gentle thumb across his tear-streaked cheek. "Who could ever be angry at such an adorable face?" 

Everything grew quiet then, as their breaths mixed. For a moment, Felix thought his best friend would do something more - tip into him a little bit and kiss him. But instead, Minho just stared... into his eyes and around his face. 

"Jicheul thought I was cheating on him with you." 

Felix didn't know why he said it, the sentence just slipped out before he could reign his thoughts back in. Minho lifted a perfectly manicured dark eyebrow at him, chestnut-brown eyes glinting with a little bit of mischief. 

"Well, isn't that comical..." His voice lilted off into the distance, as Felix caught his eyes lock onto his lips for just a second before they were rising again to meet his gaze. "But enough about that asshole- let's get you into bed." 

Felix found himself agreeing with the older male, allowing Minho to help him underneath the thick duvet covers. He snuggled under the blankets, burrowing his face against the velvety pillow. But Felix opened his eyes again when he realized that Minho wasn't getting in next to him.

"Aren't you going to sleep too?" He asked, peering up at him with imploring, big eyes. 

Minho stared down at Felix with a faint smile adorning his face. He tilted into his tucked-in form, brushing a few fingers through his blonde locks. "In a little bit... I have something to do first." 

Felix nodded slowly, closing his eyes again at the absence of Minho's touch. "Okay, just... don't be too long, hmm?" He didn't want to admit it right then, but the thought of being left alone in such a dark room in such a large bed made his heart leap a little bit with anxiety. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby boy."

Felix hid the smile that bloomed across his face at the nickname underneath the covers, and distinctly heard the click of the bedroom door shut as Minho left him to sleep. 

As he was falling into dreamland, Felix could distantly hear Minho's soft voice through the apartment's thin walls. 

"Yes, hi. My name is Lee Minho," he said in a hushed whisper. He waited a few beats and then continued. "I'd like to file a domestic violence report for my... friend..."

The next three weeks passed in a blur of Felix staying quiet and Minho allowing him time to heal. Felix didn't leave his side, and he was practically glued to his best friend's hip from the moment he woke up in the morning to the moment he came home from work at the dance studio. 

It was two mornings after the incident, when Felix was practically clinging on for dear life to Minho's side that the elder looked down at him with a softness in his eyes. "I hate to leave you here like this..." They had spent the past weekend together, chilling out at his apartment, eating yummy food, and distracting Felix from all of the issues. 

Shaking his head, Felix offered him a tiny, unconvincing smile. "It's fine... I'll be fine." But already, he could feel the prick of tears clouding the corners of his eyes." 

"My poor, poor baby doll," Minho cooed softly, brushing a thumb underneath one of his eyes gently as he gave Felix's arm a light squeeze. "I won't be gone too long, yeah? Lunch is all ready and waiting for you in the fridge and there's plenty of shows to catch up on while I'm away." 

"Okay..." Felix nodded, sniffling back the tears as he burrowed his face into Minho's thick jacket. "Just... come home right away, mhm?" 

Minho was brushing some of his blonde locks behind his ear then, prodding him to look up and catch his stare once more. "Of course, doll face... you know I'll always come back for you." 

And just like that, they had fallen into a rhythm together. Felix had decided to take a few weeks off from work - since he very well couldn't show up as bruised and beaten as he was. The worst part about it all, though, besides the wounds that Minho would help clean out every single night, was the mental effects of it all. 

The late nightmares would keep him up until the wee hours of the morning. The loss of an appetite, the boredom and cloudy mind, racing heart, and the fear of being alone. And only after three days of sleeping out on Minho's living room couch - since he needed to put a boundary down somewhere - he found himself cuddled up next to the elder man, curled around his body as a wave of nightmare-fueled fear overtook his entire system. 

Each time, Minho would lull him back to sleep. With gentle touches and satiny words and rocking to-and-fro. Like magic, Minho knew exactly what he needed, whenever he needed it. 

But Felix could almost feel in the back of his mind - feel the knowing pulling deep within him - that he was beginning to overstay his welcome. After three whole weeks of being so cooped up in Minho's apartment both for safety reasons and for his sanity, Felix needed to get out. Needed to do something, look at something different, besides the four white walls of his best friend's place.

So that's how he found himself sitting in a corner booth at a local cafe near Minho's apartment. He had been there for hours already, sipping the day away with two whole cups of a pumpkin-spiced latte. He had brought a book to keep his mind busy, but instead of reading a single word, he just stared out the window. 

Unfortunately, he had forgotten his phone back at Minho's apartment, so he had no way to check the time. But by the look of things outside the nearby cafe's window - he could take a pretty good guess as to the time of day. The sun began to set over the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of dusty rose and golden topaz. Minho would be coming home soon from work since he usually finished up around six thirty on most nights. Living with him, Felix was quickly beginning to learn - memorize - his best friend's schedule. 

Just when Felix was about to stand up from his comfy spot in the cafe, he spotted a couple walking by, bundled up against the frigid October wind, holding onto each other's hands as they walked with wide smiles adorning their faces. The sight of it all caused Felix's heart to shift and squeeze inside his chest, and he found himself sitting back in his chair, taking in the sight of them... not having a care in the world, oblivious to the pain that could happen in the future. The rift that might ultimately split them apart.

Seeing the couple reminded Felix of Jicheul... of the way they used to be when they first started dating back during their university days. They were so fucking in love with each other and head over heels. And within only a few months of dating, they were moving in with one another... that's how much they always wanted to be together. 

But then, somewhere along the way, things had irrevocably shattered. Jicehul's drinking problem got worse and he got angry more easily and everything just... started to turn to shit. 

Felix could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks in silent rivulets as he sat there, staring off into the distance, eyes trained on the waning daylight and how the moon slowly began to rise high in the sky. He sat there, oblivious to how late it was growing, wallowing in his sorrow. 

It felt like his heart was about to shatter all over again, cracking open and turning raw and bloody... just like it had some weeks ago. Everything hurt - his body and his mind and his heart and... he just wanted to forget about it all and move on. 

But apparently, he couldn't. 

Nothing could help, not the movies, the food, or the board games. Not the moments he'd spend with Minho late at night at his apartment. 

No one could help him. 

He was all alone and- 

His frantic, dark thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a finger tapping on his shoulder. He turned to the side to catch a glimpse of one of the cafe's employees looking down at him with a concerned face. "Uhm- sir... I'm about to close up the store- it's almost eleven." 

Felix shot up from his seat with wide eyes, running an embarrassed hand through his hair and chuckling softly. "Oh, my bad- I didn't realize how late it had gotten... have a good night." Then he was flitting out of the cafe's front doors before the young girl who had served him his drinks a lot earlier in the day could see his state of mind. Could see the tears trailing across his freckled cheeks. 

He held his book close to his chest the entire time he made the short trek back to Minho's apartment, heart clenching painfully in his chest. 

He was so tired. 

So fucking exhuasted. 

He just wanted to lie down, go to sleep, and never wake up. 

And then he made it to Minho's front door, keyed in the code, and locked the thing behind him as he stepped in. The palace was completely dark - void of any kind of light. 

Immediately, he was brought back to that night- when he had come home from a long day at work to find Jicheul sitting in the living room, all alone... 

"Where have you been?" 

Minho's dry voice rang out across the apartment, and Felix shook in a wave of deja vu as he stared across the kitchen towards the doorframe of Minho's bedroom, where the elder was standing rigidly. 

"Minho-hyung, I-"

"Do you have any fucking idea how worried I've been?" The elder began, voice low as death and gravelly at the edges. The sounds of it made Felix's shoulders tremble as he placed his book down on the nearby kitchen counter. "Do you have any idea how many fucking times I called you, trying to reach you?" 

"I left my phone here- I'm sorry, I forgot." 

Minho let out a dry, humorless chuckle. The sound of it made Felix's heart leap in his stomach, the lump forming in his throat. "Why the fuck would you leave it here when you know how I get?" 

Feeling all of the anger and strife and sadness from the past few weeks build up inside of him, Felix burst out, "I'm sorry- okay?! I'm sorry I didn't take my phone with me and I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was at that local cafe just down the road!" 

But Minho was right, Felix knew how he got. The younger male had already done something similar a week before, slipping out of the apartment and visiting a nearby 7-Eleven to pick up some breakfast early in the morning. Minho had called him frantically thirty minutes later, while Felix was checking out, wondering where he was.

The tears were springing free from Felix's eyes soon after his explosion, and he reached out towards the kitchen's cool marble countertop to grip onto the coolness for dear life. "I'm sorry- it's all my fault, I shouldn't have- shouldn't have done it," he shouted out, voice cracking in pain in tandem with his weak heart. "I'm so fucking stupid... I know that- you don't have to tell me- no one has to tell me because I already know."

With his eyes closed, he failed to see the shadows in the room moving, failed to notice that Minho was nearing him with quick, quiet steps. 

"I'm sorry..." Minho started, his voice so close to Felix that he tore his eyes open to notice how near the red-haired male was to him. "Lix... I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to get angry, I just... I got so fucking worried when I came home and you weren't here and then it got later and you weren't answering your phone..." 

Felix scrubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe the tears away. But they wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop his heart from shattering or his legs from quaking. "Everything slipped my mind. I needed to get out of this place and I guess I forgot to bring my phone, I'm sorry." His head drooped down, his focus landing on the dark tiled floor at his feet. 

"Yongbok-ah... look at me, please." The distress in Minho's voice was palpable, but still, Felix couldn't heed his words. Then Minho was fitting a few fingers under his chin, gently tilting his head up so that their gazes locked. There, Felix found an ocean of feelings - agony, anger, but most importantly... adoration. He swallowed at the sight of it all, eyes puffy and face still sore. "I just... I would fucking kill myself if anything happened to you. I just want you to be safe and okay forever, you know? I love you so much, and if anyone- especially that fucker, ever laid their hands on you I'd-"

"You saying all of that won't help," Felix cut him off, shaking his head slowly in defeat. The tears had finally stopped and now he was just left as a shell of the man that he had once been - mind empty and heart beating lowly in his chest. "Nothing helps. Nothing will help. It's over. I'm... I'm done." 

Then he was dragging out of Minho's grip in the next beat, and Minho didn't stop him. Because that's the kind of best friend he was - he wasn't going to force Felix to do anything he didn't want to, no matter what it was. Felix made for the nearby bedroom, face blank as he heard Minho trail in behind him. 

"Don't say that Yongbok-ah... you know things will get better." The elder male was saying in a low tone. 

But Felix just wanted to forget it all, forget all of the pain and heartache, and move on from it. But he couldn't, because that shit was here to stay. 

"You've done enough for me, Hyung. I'm sick of taking, taking, taking from you and not giving anything back." 

"You being here is enough of a payback - you being my friend is enough." 

"No, it's not, and you know it." 

"How do you know what's enough for me and what's not?" 

Felix was turning around on his heels then, throwing his hands up frantically in the air. "Because I just do, okay?! I know that you're sick of me and that I can never repay you, and- and that I've overstayed my welcome." His voice cracked at the end of his words, but he refused to cry again. Refused to do anything more but stand there, near the bed, as Minho faced him just a few paces away. 

"You don't know me, Felix." 

"Yes, I do." 

Minho was nearing him after that, face softening exponentially and lips pressing into a firm line as he folded his arms across his chest. "Then I guess you also know that I've been in love with you since fucking high school." 

After that, everything stopped.  

The air flowing through Felix's lungs stopped, 

His heart stopped, 

Hell, even his brain stopped. 

All of him, every single fiber of his being, honed down to a single point. He could only focus on the red-haired man before him, his best friend since he was a little boy, and the words that he had just spoken into existence. 

The confession he had just blurted out. 

"Minho- what..." Felix began, but Minho was nearing him already, taking ahold of his hands and squeezing them slowly. 

"It's okay, Yongbok-ah, I understand that this isn't the right time and you don't feel the same about me. But I just wanted you to know that I-" 

But Felix didn't give him any more time to speak after that. 

Instead, he just took ahold of Minho's face, hands fitting around his jaw and bringing him closer than ever before. 

Their lips crashed together in the next instant. 

It was explosive and otherworldly and... and everything Felix had ever wanted and dreamed and hoped of. 

With a clash of teeth and the press of plushness, Minho was groaning into the kiss, hands quickly scrambling for something to hold. Desperately, he clutched at Felix's hips just as Felix pressed in a little closer to him. 

Felix's tongue prodded at the line of his lips, and Minho allowed him entrance in the next breath, their tastes dancing a lilting kind of tango. In their haste of passionate kisses, Minho somehow managed to hoist Felix up into the air, holding him steady as the younger wrapped his legs around his waist. 

In a matter of seconds, Minho was moving then, walking towards the bed. And then everything happened all at once... with Minho throwing Felix down onto the bed with his slim legs still wrapped around the elder's waist. Felix's blonde locks fanned out against the downy pillows as Minho's tongue teased against his. 

Silence lapsed between them, the only sounds filling up the entire room being the noises that came from between them - wet lips and low groans and breathy cries. 

Before anything could go further though, Minho was yanking away from Felix. Hands still digging into his hips, his fingers pressed in close to the younger's oversized grey sweatpants. "W-We shouldn't... Bokkie... it isn't- doesn't feel right..." He began, but already, Felix was trying to coax him back into the kisses - reaching up and twirling a few fingers through his crimson locks. 

"Why? Because I just got out of a shitty relationship? Because we're best friends?" Felix questioned, silently enjoying the way his lips felt puffy and kiss-swollen. He felt hot all over and could feel the tent in his pants steadily growing. 

Minho gave him a deep frown, palms sinking into the plush mattress at Felix's side. The younger wanted to whine out and cry for the absence of his touch against his hips, but he decided he'd save the begging for... later.

"Yeah- and just... you can't possibly want this right now- want me." 

Felix made a noncommittal, low hum in his throat, before his hand drew away from the elder's crimson locks and his fingers were brushing against his smooth, milky cheek. "We'd be fools to ignore the shit that's been brewing between us for years, Minho. Almost everyone in our life has thought we've been dating at some point. Hell, even Jicheul accused me of cheating on him with you." 

Minho frowned slowly, dark brows pulling together and eyes lighting up with a swarthy mix of barely checked desire and uncertainty. "I'm not going to be a fix for your problems, Felix- I can't be. That's something you have to work through yourself." 

"I'm not asking you to be one. I just..." 

Minho tipped into him, gently pressing their foreheads together and breathing fire down across his face as he prodded Felix to continue. "What, Lix? What is it?" 

"I need to forget- just for a little bit, you know?" 

The elder tilted away from his frame, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow his way. "And you think I'm gonna be the perfect fit for that?" 

Felix shrugged slowly, brows crumpling as the words flowed from his lips freely, in a soothing tone. "I think that... I've always loved you- in more ways than just a friend can. And now is the culmination of all these pent-up emotions finally coming to a head so... why wait any longer?" 

At his confession, Minho let out a low groan, nose digging into the crook between Felix's neck and shoulder blade. "Fuck, you don't know how long I've waited to hear that..." 

"Help me, Hyung," Felix began after that, moving Minho's face so that they were staring at each other once more. "Can you do that... help me?" 

Slowly, Minho ended up nodding, a dark smirk pulling across his lips as he gave Felix a heated kiss. "Where do you want me? How?" 

But Felix didn't even need to reply, as he gripped a little harder onto Minho's waist and turned their bodies in a tumble of limbs. Soon, Minho was the one with his spine sinking into the mattress, crimson locks messy against the grey-colored duvet. 

"L-Like this..." Felix muttered in barely-controlled lust, as his hands found their way to the waistline of Minho's joggers. He peered up at the older in silence, asking for permission. And when he got the all-clear, he was shucking them and his boxers away. 

Instantly, Minho's cock sprang to life from being released out of the confines of his pants. Felix sat back on his heels between Minho's spread legs for just a few seconds, taking in deep breaths. 

Because fuck, was it big. 

Veiny, too. With a girth so wide, Felix had no idea how the night was going to end. 

The tip was already pink and leaking out precum, the thin sheen casting a pretty glow against Minho's thighs. The bedroom was altogether dark, save for the pulled curtains nearby that offered a small amount of faint moonlight to bleed into the space between them. 

"F-Fuck, you're so pretty..." Felix started, bringing his hands up to his lips and spitting on them dutifully before he reached out with supple anticipation toward Minho. 

And the elder stayed completely still and silent for a few moments, as Felix felt him out. Curious palms wrapping around the base, fingers gripping just slightly before he began dragging his hands up to the tip, thumb playing with the leaking slit there. 

Minho squirmed underneath him, and Felix caught his stare - the way his pupils were already blowing out and the way a dusting of a pinkish blush bloomed across his cheeks, trickling down the column of his neck. 

"F-Feels so good, Bok... holy shit-" Minho croaked out in a resonant voice, moving his hips upwards just a tiny bit in time with Felix's touch. 

As Felix began to play with Minho's cock with one of his hands, the other found its way to the hemline of Minho's baggy sleeping t-shirt. The one he always wore when he wanted to have a relaxing night around the house. 

Slowly, in tandem with his tugs, his fingers lifted Minho's shirt. Until he caught sight of his soft, muscular abdomen, smooth skin gleaming in the twilight hours. His cute pink nipples pebbled against the cool night air, And soon, Felix found himself tilting into him slightly, mouth dropping open as his lips locked around one of his pecks, tongue coming out to poke around there at the bud before he began to suck with a vengeance. 

The entire time, his attention was focused on the elder male; from the way that he writhed underneath his touch, hips thrusting against Felix's hand that was circling his hard cock, to the way that Minho allowed breathy, high-pitched moans to escape from between his lips. 

"Never knew you'd be this way- so supple and pliant..." Felix chuckled darkly, as he squeezed a little harder around his cock, earning a low cry from the elder. Wet saliva leaked out from Felix's mouth, as he lapped at Minho's peaked buds. "You like this? Like your little angel Bokkie to fuck you... to suck on your nipples and squeeze my hands around your cock?" 

Minho was nodding vehemently after that, swallowing down a large gulp and tearing his screwed-shut eyes open to look down at Felix. At the way his teeth clamped down around his peaked nipples and the way his fingers circled around his cock. "Y-Yeah... you have no fucking idea how long I've thought about this... fantasized about it." 

"Bet you fantasized about other things too, hmm?" Felix mused, mouth trailing kisses down the center of his stomach and nearing his bare hips. "Bet you dreamed about this mouth wrapped around your dick- sucking you dry." 

Slowly, Minho let out a low chuckle. "That too-" 

But Felix didn't let him finish his train of thought, as he dropped his jaw wide open and fit his lips around his cock in the next instant. Hand playing at the base of Minho, tickling his balls, Felix began to bob his head up and down along his shaft, swirling his tongue with each movement of his neck. 

"Ah- fuck!" Minho cried out, reaching for the younger's head and gripping at his bleached locks, guiding his movement along his cock to right where Minho needed him most. "Right there... fuck, Lix, you're sucking me off so well." 

Felix hummed against his length, his lips slick and swollen from all of the kissing and sucking. The tip of Minho hit the back of his throat soon after that, but his gag reflex was nowhere to be found, and he took it all in stride. Lips parted around Minho's cock, Felix hollowed out his cheeks with each slow drag of his mouth. 

Up and down, up and down. 

The lewd, nasty sounds coming from Felix’s mouth were enough to make him lose just a little bit more of his sanity. And in that moment, he wasn’t thinking about anything else - just focused on Minho and trying to make him feel good. Trying to make himself forget about all the other shit in his life. Slowly, his hand pulled away from Minho’s cock and began to work at the waistband of his own joggers. 

Then Felix moved his mouth off of Minho's cock, licking his lips clean of the pre-cum that had been leaking out of his puffy tip. “Can I use you, Min? Please?” He asked, as he ripped off his own boxers and t-shirt and threw them onto the ground behind him. “Let me fuck you nice and deep- help me feel good, please?” 

And Minho mewled out weakly, shaking his head in reply as his lips parted open in a breathless, whispery moan. “Holy shit- yes, yes… do whatever you have to do to help yourself. Be selfish, just- take it all out on me.” The rest of his words caught in his throat as Felix’s cock sprang to life in front of him. All red and swollen and leaking an obscene amount. 

Before Felix could regain any solid part of his sanity, he was reaching over across Minho and into the nearby nightstand. One day when he had been searching for a phone charger, he had caught a glimpse of a bottle of lube and condoms hidden underneath the piles of papers and books right there in the drawer. He plucked the half-used bottle of lube out, drenching his fingers and cock in the slippery, sweet-smelling liquid. 

“Strawberry flavored?” He mused, raising a quizzical eyebrow Minho’s way as he neared him again, pressing his mouth against his and trailing his tongue around the line of his lips. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic…”

“Just- shut up already,” Minho murmured against his lips, but when Felix pulled away just a tiny bit, he saw the blush creeping across the older’s face, painting everything in a pink-toned hue. 

Gradually, Felix’s fingers trailed their way between Minho’s legs, his other hand gripping on tight to his bare hip. “Just breathe in for me, yeah?” He coached, as his lubed fingers played with Minho’s rim. He could feel the older stiffen underneath him, eyes widening as soon as Felix began to slip a single finger inside his entrance. “Relax… it’ll only hurt for a few seconds.” 

Minho reached out to Felix, hands coming up behind the nape of his neck, digits gripping at the blonde locks there as his eyes screwed shut. “To be honest- I haven’t bottomed in a while… I’m always the top, most of the time.” He whispered, mouth falling open and legs widening a little bit more in supplication as Felix added another finger. 

“Hmm- you sure stretch out nice against my fingers though,” Felix said in a deep, prideful coo. He peppered light kisses across Minho’s face, mouth playing with the delicate features of his nose and cheeks. “Real nice and easy… I’d never guess you hadn’t bottomed recently, from the way your hole is sucking my hand in so nicely.” Just then, he added in a third finger, pumping in and out shallowly to get Minho accustomed to the feeling of it all. 

Desperately, Minho’s eyes shot open and he bit down hard on his bottom lip. “N-No more foreplay… need you to fuck me right now… use me to forget about everything else…” 

And how could Felix ever deny him something like that? 

Ever deny such a stunning, angelic face, being scrunched up so wonderfully, lips parted and legs wide open just for him? 

In no time at all, he was massaging the lube around his own cock, lining up his tip to Minho’s entrance, entire attention focused on the way that he slowly sunk into his hole. The stretch was incredible- making Minho convulse in pleasure underneath Felix as he gradually bottomed out inside of him. 

“A-Ah… fuck!” Minho cried out the moment Felix froze in his place for a few beats to let him adjust. Then the elder’s face was darkening, his eyes growing swarthy as he stared up at Felix with dim, lust-filled feelings dancing right there in his irises. “Keep going, Lix… fuck me hard, please…” 

That was all Felix needed to set him off. 

Instantly, he was yanking out of Minho almost entirely, teasing Minho’s rim with his throbbing tip before plunging back into him at break-neck speed. The elder’s eyes burst open in surprise from the impact of it all, moaning out like a fucked-over anime bitch from the hentai mangas Felix sometimes read. 

For a few moments, no words were spoken between the two of them. The room filled up with the sounds of Felix’s low grunts as he pounded into Minho at an ungodly speed. Meanwhile, Minho was squirming against the bed, crying out in pleasure every time the tip of Felix hit against that warm, star-filled spot deep inside of him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty like this-“ Felix began in a deep growl, the tension around them snapping every time he felt his cock dig further and further between Minho’s squeezing walls. Rolling his hips against the elder, Minho began to meet his thrusts halfway, his arousal dripping out of the head of his pink, swelled cock. “My sweet, sweet cockwhore- legs wide open and eyes rolled back into your skull as I fuck your brains out…” 

And he could feel how Minho liked his words - the dirty little thing liked the filthy ways Felix was speaking to him. It was apparent by the way the blush across Minho’s face bled into the column of his neck. It was apparent by the way that he whined out in pure, unadulterated bliss. And it was especially apparent by the way his back arched up and off of the mattress below him- walls fluttering around Felix's cock. 

Felix continued at his unreal pace, surprising himself with how much stamina he had at that moment. He was chasing his release rabidly, jerking in and out of Minho’s hole without any sort of mercy. And Minho loved every second of it as his nails skirted down Felix's bare back, nails scratching at his spine. 

“I’m gonna cum, f-fuck, Lix, I can’t-“ Minho hissed out, and Felix could feel the way the elder's hole clamped down a little harder around him, as the elder braced for his climax. “Can’t take it any longer- need to-“

But Felix was already guiding him through it all, hands reaching down between their hips that were meeting together with each thrust, taking hold of Minho’s rigid cock. “That’s it, darling… cum for me, hmm? Let it all out…” His voice was profound and lilting, coaxing out a slur of breathless moans and curses from Minho as he jerked his hand up the length of Minho at the pace that he drilled his cock into him. 

For a moment, Minho went completely still - frozen, like a statue made out of pure, sparkling-spun glass. Then, all at once, everything collapsed and he was falling down the cliffside - hole pulsing around Felix’s cock as he jerked from side to side. The release was otherworldly - if the look on Minho’s face was anything to go by. His jaw dropped open, eyes rolling into the back of his skull, tears pricking at the corners of his long, dark lashes, the prettiest of cries falling from his swollen lips as Felix led him through his release. His seed spilled out across the younger’s small hand, covering his palm in stark whiteness. 

Just from the sight of the older coming undone right before him, Felix was losing his last bit of control. “I-I’m going insane, fuck- need to…” He breathed out senselessly, chasing his high. His hips stuttered against Minho’s, as his release ripped right through his entire being. The bright-hot, crimson heat of it flooded through his system, lighting up his veins in brilliant casts of gold and violet. His cock swelled deep inside of Minho, his hips shallowly fucking his dripping release back into the older male with each pulse of the heat that coated his mind over and over again in pure, cosmic bliss. 

When he was finally finished, Felix looked down to catch a glimpse of a glowing Minho, his entire face lit up with ecstasy, a huge grin pulling at the corners of his lips. Felix took one last powerful thrust, pushing the rest of his seed into the older, drawing out another weak whine from him. 

“Why are you smiling like a maniac?” Felix chuckled, still staring down at the red-haired man, as he brought his hand away from Minho’s cock. His digits were covered and sticky, but he made diligent work of licking them clean. Much to Minho’s delight, he let out a low groan at the sight of it. “Damn- was my cock that good?” He made no move to pull out just yet, loving the way Minho’s warm walls hugged against his cock so tightly. The fit was immaculate. 

Minho was already shaking his head though, hands playing with the messy locks of sweat-slick hair that had dipped into the front of Felix’s eyes from his excessive fucking. “Nah- just… I can’t believe I just got fucked by my best friend… something I’ve been wanting for so long, you know?” 

That made a furious blush creep across Felix’s cheeks, as he tipped down into Minho, pressing a few light kisses against his red mouth. The older’s hair was disheveled, his shirt halfway pulled up across his chest, showcasing the sensitive red marks Felix had left with his attention there at his nipples. 

“To be honest, I can’t believe it either,” Felix started, voice a low rasp against Minho’s lips. “And you were right- you did help me. In so many different ways. I don’t know how I’m ever gonna be able to repay you.” 

For a moment, the silence stretched on between them. And when Felix tilted his head to the side awaiting Minho’s reply, the older just yanked him closer, mewling a tiny bit from the way Felix’s cock pressed further into his sensitive hole. “You can start your repayment by fucking me like that every single night… how does that sound?” 

Threading his sticky digits through Minho’s red locks, Felix pressed another handful of kisses against his mouth, stealing the breath right out of the older’s lungs. “To be honest, that sounds like a fucking dream to me.” 

And then their limbs tangled up again, and they were pressing into each other, kissing their worries away, hands exploring softly, and sighs flooding from parted lips. 

It didn’t matter that Felix wasn’t over his ex. 

It didn’t matter that he still had a long process to get over him - with loads of therapy and long talk sessions with his friends and family. 

It didn’t matter that he didn’t know where he was going to go. 

Because right then, all he wanted to do was delve into Lee Minho. Feel him in so many different ways. Ways that he never imagined he’d get to feel, in all his years of knowing the older male. Ways he never thought he’d want to feel in the first place, until Minho’s thoughts on him became apparent, and Felix realized he shared similar inclinations.

His best friend had been right, in the end. 

Perhaps not everyone could help Felix, 

But the person who could be the most successful in helping him along on his healing journey was Minho. 

Whether that be in the bedroom, or out of it. 

He was always going to be there, no matter what. 

No matter who got in the way - abusive, insane exes, life-filled drama, rain or shine. 

Lee Minho was there to stay. 

Fin.

🌊 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌊 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @/leyknxw :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @/annsunakai :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @/wealwayskeepfighting :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @skzcollision :: @noellllslut :: @skz-streamer :: @hello-2-u-from-me :: @h0p3l3ssromantic :: @bangchanbighandsome :: @imastraykidsfan :: @feellikecinderella :: @hyundumpling :: @/weirdkoaladuck ::@hyunnieshannie :: @astralis-is-typing :: @ivyisnotokay

a blue tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

[august-donovan]

August stared at his reflection as he fumbled with the tangled mess of his necklaces. He felt on edge, his heart racing. It was always like this for the man when it came to social gatherings. And although it would only be him and Matteo, it didn’t help the anxiety that always brewed in the pit of his stomach. Once the necklaces were fixed, he smoothed out the simple black tee he wore, making sure there was nothing out of place for his appearance. Now, he finally caught Addie in the mirror. “You’re staring,” he whispered to her, turning around to face her now that he felt comfortable with his appearance. 

“I’m gazing,” Addie corrected him from her perched position on the couch, her leg swaying back and forth in a lazy fashion. “You look perfect.” 

This caused a smile to fall across the lips of the quiet man. He walked over to his fiancée and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “I love you,” he said. August rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to push away the sweat that was forming. “Why did we have to come here?” August asked, glancing around the living room that belonged to his mother. “This is a longer drive for Matteo.” 

Addie climbed off the sofa and stopped in front of her soon to be husband, her tiny hands resting on his strong chest. She stepped on the tips of her toes to kiss him now. “Because,” she whispered after the kiss was broken, “your mother wanted to give me something borrowed for Saturday.” 

“And where is she hiding?” August said with a hasty sigh. The anxiety was setting in hard now. “Momma?” he called out loudly but did not receive a response. 

“Baby,” Addie cooed, kissing him yet again. “You’re going to have an amazing time with Matteo tonight. You’re gonna go get drunk and eat until you’re full.” Addie gave him a fixed expression but her tone remained playful, “There better not be any strippers.” 

This made August smile and he wrapped his arms around Addie, pulling her as close as he could to his frame. This seemed to mute his anxiety for the time being. He kissed her slow and deep, inhaling her strength and love. “No strippers,” he vowed and then gave her his own fixed expression. “And there better not be any strippers at your party. Do I need to call Elyse?” 

The two laughed and kissed again and again. August felt peace consuming his soul now. The arrival of his mother brought the two out of their bubble and August turned to face her as she held out a small box for Addie. “Here’s the hair comb,” Alice said. Addie thanked her and then put the box delicately in her purse on the couch. “August, there’s something for you too,” Alice said nervously. 

“Momma, my hair ain’t long enough for a hair comb,” he joked. Alice laughed but said nothing—shuffling of footsteps could be heard coming down the foyer and into the living room. Ace bounced into the room and clasped hands with his oldest brother, pulling him into a hug. “You didn’t think we’d miss this, did you?” Ace inquired. 

“Us?” August questioned but it was answered without the assistance of Ace. Instead, Adriel revealed himself, smiling at his brother. “Hey August,” he whispered. 

August felt a tidal wave of emotion lift from his chest at the sight of Adriel in front of him. Adriel in California. In their mother’s home. Was he dreaming? “Adriel?” August said in a questionable tone as if Adriel might disappear if he blinked too quickly. He hurried to his younger brother who was actually taller. August’s arms wrapped tightly around Adriel’s neck and held him with all his might. He didn’t want this moment to vanish. “You’re actually here?” August said, his voice broken now. “You’re home.” 

Saying it outloud helped August anchor himself to the moment. He needed the realization that this was not a dream and that his brother was standing in front of him…somehow. All the stress and turmoil of the last five years seemed to disappear in that lingering moment of the brothers hugging. A few moments later, August pulled away to see Adriel. “Are you actually here?” he whispered, wiping the happy tears from his face. “Does this mean you’re free?” 

“I’m a free man,” Adriel said happily, giving August another tight hug. “It’s over, August. It’s all over.” 

August choked on a silent cry, holding his brother for as long as he’d allow. “I’m so sorry for all of this, Adriel.” Adriel stopped him immediately. After all, what was there to apologize for? They were all together again. Once they let go of this hug, August wanted to ask how this happened, but he couldn’t help but laugh now. Adriel walked across the room and gave Addie a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sis.” 

August caught sight of Addie’s smiling face and realized the answer to his question. She happened. Somehow, she helped make this come true. God, he loved her so much. 

“Knock, knock,” came the familiar voice of Cataleya. “Can I get in on the hugging?” she teased as she waddled towards August. August gasped at the sight of the beautifully pregnant woman. “God, I missed you so much,” August whispered to her. 

The sound of the doorbell chiming broke the happy reunion and Alice clapped her hands. “I bet that’ll be your friend Matteo,” she said, leaving her sons to answer it. 

August held his head in his hands as he looked at Ace and Adriel. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said to them both. His eyes finally drifted to Warren who had stood quietly in  the entrance of the room this entire time. “You too, Warren,” August said to him, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering, “Thank you for keeping him safe.” 

“So, you bitches ready to go get hammered?” Ace said and instantly raised his hands in defense as he looked at Addie. “But no strippers!” 

After saying goodbye to Alice, Cataleya, and Addie, the men left the house to begin the celebration. 

[esoutherngolf]

Coffee Tees: Volle Turns Coffee into Tees

In 2018 a new Kiwi startup started to disrupt the golf ball industry by launching New Zealand's first premium direct-to-consumer golf ball. Volle Golf's mission is to challenge the status quo and bring fresh ideas and innovation to the golf industry. Co-founder Kael Deherrera started the company with the goal of doing things differently. There is an environmental revolution brewing on the golf course, and it's all about your coffee ground discards. Waste coffee grounds collected from New Zealand cafes will be used to make biodegradable golf tees for both the local and international markets. A Golf Tee that smells like your morning coffee! "We were trying to investigate and understand how golf products are made and essentially think about how we could do things differently and more sustainably," said Kael. "It led us into a bit of a deep dive in the tee industry, understanding that plastic is still heavily used in tees at the moment, and obviously there is a problem with leaving broken plastic tees scattered around golf courses." While wooden tees are available, Deherrera mentioned they were mostly imported from China, and much wood is whittled down to create them. Volle started to investigate alternative materials, including sawdust-but found there were issues with durability. To make a truly sustainable tee, it needs to be durable-it can't break on every shot. Kael actually discovered coffee grounds were being used in a lot of furniture and other bits and pieces as a replica for wood. The Volle tees are 60 to 70 percent made from coffee grounds with other natural materials added to increase durability-including sugar cane and casein carbonate. Compared to wooden tees, which Kael says will break on average after three to four shots, Volle's tees would last about six to seven shots. That is about a 66% increase in durability. While Volle is currently in partnership with a Danish company, arrangements are being made to bring manufacturing to New Zealand. All the tees currently sold in New Zealand are imported and primarily from China. Deherrera said they are hoping to create replacements for all other tees. The tees come in a bag designed to look like a coffee packet-and they even smell like your morning cup of Joe. "Our goal is to be in every golf shop in the country, and then look for international markets. We're calling this the most environmental and sustainable tee on the planet and we think there's no reason to be using plastic or wooden tees again." Please visit volle.golf for more information.   Read the full article

[brooklynislandgirl]

Even after a full two years, there isn't a morning that doesn't get shattered to pieces, crushed by the death of hope. There's promise enough when her flashes first flutter and she smells coffee brewing. The pot she set into place the night before. For that first half a second she can imagine Andy standing in the kitchen, putting cream and two spoons of sugar into her cup, all the while ready to make fun of her for it. He has always made his black as sin and bitter. He'd be in his shorts and a tee-shirt, his hair just a little too long and his face a touch unshaven, but he's on leave and he can relax. And when she finally opens her eyes she realises that, apart from her cat that she is alone. This is one of the reasons Beth hardly ever sleeps any more. Everyone blames it on her incurable insomnia but she knows better. She also knows if she didn't make a commitment to coming to these useless groups and listened to other people's heart-wrenching groups, that she wouldn't be here long enough to miss him. A part of her died the day the chaplain and CNO came to notify her as his next of kin. Now she's waiting for the rest of her to catch up with it. She blames Sam and Jay for that, for the threats of what they'd be forced to do if she didn't find some way to, in his words, soldier on. Jay was much nicer but she knows there's only so much her hanai-sister could do. They'd all lost Andy. And maybe most terribly Sam had it the worst, he'd been the one to watch it happen. Every group seems to have the same stories over and over, regardless of which one she attends. Tales of grief so bright it burns. The ones that bloom from children hurt her the most and her empathy, her few little utterances, are all genuine. She hurts for them too. And one of the things she didn't do is mention being an ER/Trauma Response nurse. She'd learned from Father Vinnie's group that it only makes others feel even worse, and they turn questions into accusations. Even though she sees him three-times-a-week for Mass, he doesn't ask her to come back to his group. Tonight was bad. Ms. Devito was having a rough go and Beth couldn't bring herself to reach out, to embrace the woman. She did make note of the new face though. She's not seen him before but every bit of his body language suggested he'd rather chew broken glass than to be in the community centre's day room. He passed on his turn. She decided then and there that maybe he needed a little more help than the regulars. She was about to take one of the doughnuts if for no other reason than to occupy her hands when they collide. Something dropped like a stone in her belly when his instinct was to flinch so hard she almost heard the air move around him. The same sort of wrinkled, crumpled paper noise he makes at the back of his throat. His joke though? Falls just a little flat and she offers a brief, polite smile. All lips and no teeth. Wide eyes ~mostly green with a touch of honey-amber swirled through~ that seem like they should come with a Disney certificate of authenticity rise to meet his with a blink reminiscent of a cat.

"A duel at dawn, then," she says ever so slowly in a whisper-soft whiskey tone. "I'll tell my sister you prefer something other than doughnuts, next time. Maybe a cannoli? No…you're a brownie kind of guy." Something about the way she talks seems stilted and it's because she's talking haole. Most people don't understand her when she comfortably sinks into pigin. She can't keep her islands out of her vowels though, or how hard she works to pronounce the 'th' digraph. "A pleasure to meet you, Ben," she inclines her head. She doesn't carry grudges. Her own name tag is nothing more than a felt-tip drawing of a tiger-shark swimming through a kelp bed. She hesitates. "I'd tell you you could call me… Elikapeka but you'll never remember that. Ellie is close enough." Some people use fake names. Hers though is what's on her birth-certificate, at least partly, and that in itself is practically a national secret. Tonight she's blonde. She's someone else. Next time she might be a redhead in a scarf and hat. "Well, I wouldn't rule both out if I were you." She can't help the little dig but true to her nature, she shakes her head. "I'm very sorry, that was a really low blow. And mah… thank you. But really, I'm only here for the coffee. I…noticed that you were having a hard time earlier. Would you like to get out of here?"

@brooklynislandgirl

Loss was nothing new to Ben, and yet the proverbial blade cut far deeper now that it was his brother -- his hero and ever-present confidant. The past few months had been spent in nothing more than a haze, waking up and going to work and returning home again, never quite willing to face just what had happened and to whom.

His weeks were marked by chewed fingernails, nervous pacing, caffeinated work binges, and the constant urge to tell Samuel about this, or call Samuel about that, only to remember the very painful fact that Samuel was unable to share in his day-to-day highs and lows any longer. Samuel was nothing more than an ever-present wraith trapped within his thoughts.

Whenever he'd spent those three nights in the hospital, Ben recalled his eyes hurting from a pot of bright yellow flowers on Samuel's nightstand. The day he'd passed, Ben tossed them right into the trash, unable to bear their false sense of cheer any longer.

Naturally, his friends had grown concerned by his distance. Anna, in particular, had connections to a g.rief c.ounselor, and she'd all but commanded that he go to a s.upport g.roup. He'd agreed, if only to stop the stares and pitying whispers. Ben was nobody's burden.

On this particular night, he found himself surrounded by a group of equally glassy-eyed, distant-stared m.ourners, his eyes settling upon the fake plants along the wall while he tried to ignoring the sobbing woman across from him. Everything in this room felt fake, and not just the foliage; the concerned stares, the garnered sympathy...all of it, and whenever it was finally his turn to speak, Ben whole-heartedly declined.

Afterward, Ben shuffled toward the refreshments table. He wasn't much for bland, store-bought goods, but after the whole hour of hell he'd just endured, it seemed a fitting end to his punishment. That was when he reached for a d.oughnut.

Across the table, a woman happened to reach for the confection at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and jerking back in surprise, Ben forced a husky laugh and held his hand aloft. "Well, this is awkward," he quipped. "Looks like we'll have to fight to the death over this subpar d.essert..."

Death... Perhaps he shouldn't have made that joke.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Maybe I should start over: I'm Ben...though I guess my nametag made that painfully obvious." He thought of extending his hand to shake, but instead, tucked the offending appendage into his pocket. "I'm not really good at this, in case it isn't clear -- ah...s.upport g.roups, not socializing. Though evidently, I'm not so good at that, either." He gestured to the table. "Go ahead: help yourself. Contrary to the past thirty seconds, I can wait my turn."

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Pajama Day

A bit of frivolous Tuesday morning fun on this dreary day for my darling friend and editor, buttercupbadass. Hehehe. Rated T for shenanigans and innuendo. And also for Finnick and Johanna.

***

With a quiet curse, Peeta stuffs his clothes back in the drawer and slams it shut. It’s pajama day at work. This is meant to be fun, and he’s about ready to tear out his hair because he forgot. Finnick’s text this morning, the rather cryptic and vaguely ominous Gird your loins! I’m rockin’ my jammies! 😁 reminded Peeta.

Followed by a final round of heckling: Don’t you dare wimp out on me.

Maybe that was Finnick begging. Either way, Peeta reluctantly dug up his favorite sleep pants — a soft blue flannel with fat, fluffy sheep numbered and jumping over croissants set up like fences. Why? Who cares. He thought they were funny and bought them right before graduating college. But now he can’t find the top.

He didn’t sleep well last night. He hasn’t slept well in several nights. With a sigh, he grabs a stray long sleeve tee that might work with the colors and drags his tired and stressed out ass into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.

Once he’s ready, he checks his phone to see if he’s missed any calls or texts, his face heating with humiliation when there are none. Still.

He needs to stop obsessively checking. He wishes she’d at least tell him what he did wrong. Why they flipped from searingly hot to silently frigid so damn fast. He wishes it didn’t feel like someone shoved broken shards of glass into his chest and left them to fester. But he’d thought… it doesn’t matter anymore what he thought.

“It’s only been a few days, Mellark,” he grumbles at himself, grabs his keys, his coffee in his bright orange tumbler, tucks his phone in his bag, and leaves his apartment.

***

The office is abuzz with laughter and cheerful chatter, and Katniss is grateful for the calming presence of Annie, their HR rep, standing beside her by the coffee station as they sip their morning fortifying brew. Of course, Annie somehow manages to look stunning, even in sleep wear while Katniss absently tugs at the hem of the cozy shirt she’s wearing, surreptitiously glancing down to make sure the t-shirt she’s wearing under the overlay large sleep shirt adequately covers her. No cleavage still, thankfully. It’s still long enough to cover her butt and make the leggings she’s wearing somewhat professional looking, but she keeps freaking out, thinking it must’ve shrunk in the past five minutes since she last checked.

“Ugh, this is a nightmare,” Annie mutters and Katniss peels a stray hair from where it sticks to the flannel of her shirt and tosses it in the trash can. “I’m going to be handling so many sexual harassment claims later.”

“Then why’d you agree to it?”

“Paylor made a convincing case,” Annie whines slightly. “And besides, I wanted an excuse to wear my slippers rather than heels.”

Katniss snorts and they toast to that with their coffees. “It’d help if Johanna hadn’t shown up like…” Katniss trails off, blushing and unable to finish her sentence.

“In nothing but a robe tied loose enough she can accurately claim ‘Tits out work day?’” Annie snarks and shakes her head. “I think her goal was to get me to send her home for the day.”

Katniss laughs slightly. Little did Johanna know, Annie came prepared with a bag stuffed full of accouterments to turn any highly inappropriate ensembles into something more conducive to fostering the fun atmosphere their bosses intended to create with this shenanigan.

A commotion near the xerox grabs their attention and Katniss scowls as, through the glass wall enclosing the break room, she spots the unmistakable copper hair of Finnick Odair floating along between a sudden swarm of people greeting him.

“Now what did Finnick do?” Katniss asks and Annie sighs.

“I’m almost afraid to find out.”

They don’t have to wait long. The sea of raging humanity parts, allowing Finnick into the break room and he grins at the pair. Annie chokes on her coffee and Katniss feels her jaw hitting the floor.

“Ladies,” Finnick drawls with the smirk of someone who knows he’s caused a ruckus. He struts into the room, wedging himself between them to get to the coffee. Katniss tears her eyes away from the sight of him, his Caribbean blue, satin pajama pants that cling to his body in an indecent manner and his chest…

“Finnick, shouldn’t you be wearing a shirt, maybe?” Katniss manages to strangle out because Annie still hasn’t said a word. 

“Why? Do you find this…. Distracting?”

Finnick strikes a provocative pose and Katniss tries not to die of laughter on the spot. 

“I’m only human, Odair.” 

He grins at her and Katniss bites the inside of her cheek, feeling lighter than she has in days. Joking around with Finnick has that effect on her, and Katniss is grateful for it after how rough the past few days have been. Ever since… well.

But Annie still hasn’t said a word. Darting her eyes over, Katniss finds her friend seething, gripping her coffee cup with murder in her eyes.

“Is this because I made you sit through that meeting about the issue?”

“Are you suggesting that I would flaunt this physique as revenge?”

“Yes, I am. And if you are, it’s highly unprofessional and just goes to prove I was right.” Annie fumbles in her bag then shoves a shirt into his hands. “Put on a damn shirt, Finnick.”

She stalks out of the room and Finnick sighs, but he quickly pulls on the shirt. Then he gives Katniss a weak grin and heads towards his own desk.

“What was that about?” Katniss asks the room, bewildered.

“She made him sit down with a neutral party HR rep from a sister branch,” Peeta says beside her and Katniss jumps, her cheeks heating as he apologizes and she moves slightly so he can get to the creamer he prefers after refilling his travel mug.

“Why?” Katniss manages to ask around the sudden lump in her throat.

Peeta gives her an odd look before saying quietly, “Because it’s company policy to have a conference with an HR rep if you engage in an interoffice relationship.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

Katniss slides further away from the coffee machine as Wiress wanders in, humming to herself as she fills her mug. Peeta moves aside with her, still screwing the lid onto his mug.

“Thought you were gonna wear that onesie Prim gave you for your birthday.”

“The duck tail thing… made my ass look big,” she mutters and swishes her coffee in her mug, watching the tiny whirlpool settle when she stops.

“Ah,” Peeta says quietly. It annoys her, his nonchalance. Shouldn’t he… say something? After Friday she thought he’d be breaking down her door for answers or something.

Her eyes wander over the floor towards him and widen as she sees the pants he’s wearing. Her gaze jumps up to his face and she finds him staring at her already, only unlike the first few months they worked together, he doesn’t look away.

“I thought you weren’t gonna dress up at all? Didn’t feel like it, you said.”

Peeta shrugs. “Finnick begged.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And then I wasn’t going to because all I had clean were these and I remembered we… well, I couldn’t find the top,” he says. Then he reaches towards her and her breath catches in her throat as he plucks at the collar of the shirt she’s wearing. “Found it.”

Katniss bites her lip, all the words welling up inside her as she can’t look away and all her fears suddenly seem sillier than his goofy pajama top she stole the first night she stayed over at his place and they… well. She swallows and grips tight to her mug.

“We should go talk to Annie today,” she finally says.

“You think?” Annie says from the doorway. Katniss and Peeta jump apart, like school children caught being naughty. Behind her, Finnick is gleefully dancing in his pajamas, the top Annie forced on him unbuttoned and flapping as he moves.

[guessimreallyhere]

Feeling stuck on my main fic, so decided to jump in on Supercorptober prompts (Day 15 — Coffee) despite having skipped the entire first half of the month. Just a little bit of college AU fluff. Up now on AO3, if you’d rather read it there. Hope you like it!

*********

“Coffee?”

“What? Oh, hi!”

Lena looked up from her theoretical physics assignment and smiled at the girl standing a few feet away. She was holding two coffees awkwardly at her sides, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other, but her sky blue eyes were fixed hopefully on Lena’s. Lena raised her hand up to shield her forehead, careful of the pencil still gripped tightly between her fingers, and squinted. It was unmistakably the same girl who had slammed into her three days ago in the middle of the quad, spilling both of their half-full coffees all over her favorite graphic tee and pristine white sneakers.

“Kara, right?”

The girl’s cautious smile widened so much it made her eyes crinkle. “Yeah! That’s right!” She nodded and Lena was about to reintroduce herself, but the girl continued. “Lena.”

Lena felt her heart pound an extra beat, hard against her ribs.

That was odd.

But the way her name sounded breathed out by those smiling pink lips — as though that wasn’t the first time they’d ever said them, as though maybe they’d spent the last few days rolling them around her mouth like a favorite candy — made her stomach do funny little flips. She let her tongue try its own new flavor again, “Kara,” and it sent a shiver down her spine and flush to her cheeks.

If Kara noticed, she was kind enough not to mention it. She just kept staring and smiled even wider. Smiled like some girl remembering her name three days after spilling coffee all over each other was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

They stayed like that for a few more seconds, already long enough to be embarrassing if anyone happened to be watching, before Lena’s smile crooked a bit and she lifted one perfect eyebrow in question.

“Oh, right, sorry! Um, I just, I saw you here on my way to the cafe…” Kara swung her arm over her shoulder, motioning toward the campus’s only source of decent fresh-brewed coffee, and the movement caused a few drops to escape the white travel lid and land hot on the girl’s wrist. “Oh shoot.” She mumbled, and Lena watched as a dark pink tongue licked across tanned skin before soft lips closed quickly around it. Lena thought she heard Kara mumble “hopeless” to herself, but she couldn’t be sure over the deafening sound of her own rushing blood pounding in her ears.

Well, shit.

A distracting crush on a straight girl was the last thing Lena needed right now. She should probably pretend to be busy [‘you are busy’ her useless queer brain supplied] and nip this in the bud. She opened her mouth for a friendly but firm brush-off, but Kara was already talking again.

“Anyway, um, you didn’t let me buy you a fresh coffee the other day, so I thought maybe I could make it up to you now. May I?” Kara motioned toward the empty half of the park bench on which Lena was now sitting completely frozen. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, trying to will dismissive words to come out.

They refused.

But the silence seemed to be doing the trick anyway. Kara’s smile faltered and her voice sounded higher and a little strained as she forced understanding words through a now-plastic looking grin. “Or, you’re probably busy. Sorry, that was stupid, I shouldn’t have interrupted you, you’re obviously working. I’ll let you—“

“Kara, wait. Please. I’ve been staring at this book for so long the words are swimming on the pages. I could use a little break.” It was a blatant lie. She’d barely made it through half of her assignment and would never finish before class if she didn’t get back to it immediately. But Kara’s smile had broken free of its plastic casing again and Lena could’ve sworn her eyes actually sparkled. She had never cared less about theoretical physics.

“Cool! Great. Nice. Thanks! Um… here.” Kara finally settled on the bench, messenger bag half-trapped under her leg. She was trying to blow a flyaway lock of hair out from between her face and her glasses, holding both arms awkwardly in front of her to keep from spilling either coffee again.

“Oh, thanks.” Lena helpfully took the offered cup then hesitated, not wanting to be rude, but… “I’m happy for the friendly distraction, but I’ll pass on the coffee. I only drink half-caf after 3pm or I’m up all night.”

Kara finally freed her messenger bag and wrangled her (gorgeous) unruly hair out of her eyes. Pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she grinned as she reached out to twist the cup in Lena’s hands. Lena looked down at the hastily scribbled “1/2 caf” and then back up at Kara with surprise and an unspoken question in her eyes.

Kara blushed a bit, but just shrugged her shoulders. “I maybe might have noticed you in the cafe before. It’s not like it’s a hard order to remember: black in the morning, half-caf black in the afternoon. Which, also, now that we’re on the subject: Gross. How can you drink that?!”

Lena scoffed in mock outrage. “If I’m drinking coffee, I’m going to drink coffee. You’re the one who should explain herself, 3 milks and 10 sugars? What kind of monster?”

Kara’s eyes widened and Lena’s face went scarlet.

“Oh, really?” It could’ve been in defense of her “coffee” preferences, but it was quite obviously more about Lena’s accidental confession.

Lena tried to keep her eyes appropriately, embarrassingly, focused on the ground. “I maybe might have noticed you before, too.” But she couldn’t help glance up sideways through her lashes to check for Kara’s reaction.

“Well, that’s encouraging.” Kara had one smug eyebrow lifted, but she failed to hold onto her attempted smirk. Her face seemed determined to break into the widest most uninhibited smile Lena had ever seen directed her way.

“Oh?” Now Lena was trying to be coy, but Kara’s was the kind of smile that tugged yours right along with it. Before she could stop herself, Lena’s cheeks were spread around double dimples and she giggled as she scrunched up her nose and shook her head a little at the strange, beautiful girl still beaming at her with unrestrained hope. [Maybe not so straight after all?]

“Want to grab coffee with me some time?” [Definitely not so straight after all.]

Lena laughed. “Aren’t we having coffee now?”

“Oh, so this is a date! Excellent.” Kara winked. “I kinda thought so, too.” She paused while Lena laughed again, still shaking her head and nervously playing with the lid to her drink. “And since the first date is going so swimmingly, I hope it’s not too forward to ask if I could maybe take you on a second date sometime soon?”

Lena stared at those earnest blue eyes and genuine smile. The last shake of her head was directed at no one but herself as she broke every rule she had carefully put in place to avoid the dangers of letting anyone close. She turned away from Kara and rifled in her backpack, quickly unlocking her phone and handing it over before she could change her mind.

“Go ahead, put your number in.”

Kara very nearly spilled her coffee again as she scrambled to set it down and take Lena’s phone from her hands. She quickly entered her info and passed it back to Lena, her hand slowing at the last minute as a brief shadow of doubt crossed her face. Before Kara could finish her sentence (“Is it okay if I get yours— too— oh, nice!”) Lena had tapped the little phone icon and smirked as Kara whipped around to the sound of her own ringer going off.

Kara turned back around. “Best first date ever.”

Lena laughed, “I can’t help but feel that was a pretty low bar then.”

“Nope.”

Lena’s cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling. Not a very Luthor problem, to say the least. Another thing she couldn’t care less about at the moment.

“I do actually have to finish a couple of sketches before my evening class though, do you mind if I…”

“Oh, no, of course! I, um, I should actually finish this physics reading, too.”

Kara smiled and reached into her bag for a sketch pad, two pencils, and a putty eraser. She brought her legs up to criss-cross on the bench and smiled one more time at Lena before diving right in on a blank page, tongue poking endearingly between her teeth. Lena settled back into her reading and was soon lost in her own work.

The silence that followed had absolutely no right to be as comfortable and productive as it was. Lena was nearing her last paragraph when her phone alarm cut through the ambient chirping of birds, murmuring of students, and crunching of autumn leaves under passing footsteps along the park paths.

Kara jerked her head up at the sound and clutched her sketchbook against her chest as Lena silenced her phone and started packing up.

“Sorry, I forgot I had that set. Good thing though, I guess, I was really off in my own world there.”

For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to meet Kara’s gaze. She kept rearranging things in her bag, trying counterproductively to both stretch and avoid the moment. “Um, I have to get to class though… I’ll, uh…” [Pull it together, Luthor.] She breathed out, stilled her hands, straightened her back, and looked down into Kara’s startling blue eyes. “I hope this isn’t the last time we talk?”

Kara’s smile was nothing if not a promise. “I hope not either.”

[dulce-pjm]

under the table

word count: 3.8k

genre: fluff

summary: you’re doing great! 100% amazing. a-okay! alright, no you’re not. but what does everyone say is the perfect cure for a heart that never had the chance to be broken? game night, of course! but knowing you, there will always be complications. 

You’re at peace. 

When things are like this, the universe is in harmony. You’re tucked away from the rest of the world, cuddled up under a blanket next to the thing most important to you, a relaxed smile across your face. You think you could spend the rest of your life here, content and happy. Safe. 

But you’ve never been particularly lucky. 

“The fuck is a board game club?”

“It’s fun, I promise!” Mina looks you up and down as she stands in the doorway of your bedroom. You know how you look, sprawled on your soft comforter in sweats and a grease-stained t-shirt. Your laptop sits beside you, a trashy drama playing in the background, while your hands are occupied with your phone and a large bowl of popcorn. 

“But I’m having fun now.” You gesture to your well-planned setup, grimacing when Mina turns the lights on. “Dude. Warning, please.” She sighs, stepping into the room with a stern look on her face. You can already feel your stubborn resolve slipping. 

Mina shuts your laptop and moves it aside, plopping onto the bed next to you. She takes your non-butter-coated hand in hers. 

“Y/N, I love you. But it’s Friday night. We haven’t gone out in a month. A month!” You glare, offended she’d bring up the subject. 

“Because you know what happened last time!” Mina opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. This discussion always goes the same direction anyway. 

“This won’t be like last time,” she reassures, taking the popcorn bowl from you, much to your dismay. “I promise. You like games! It’ll be fun and tonight we’re betting, so if you win you might even have some cash to take home.” 

“But I’m so happy here.” You cuddle your pillow childishly, puffing out your bottom lip. Mina is not amused. She sighs, massaging her temples. 

“I didn’t want to do this,” she begins. “But you owe me, remember?” You cock your head, no memory coming to mind. She sighs in exasperation. “You dragged me to that stupid dance class last semester! By the end I thought I was gonna puke!” You scoff. 

“Oh, puh-lease, you were practically drooling over the instructor. He was so hot I forgot about the pain. Too bad he has a girlfriend now. I stalked him on Instagram.” Mina laughs, a light tinkling sound compared to your usual guffawing, abrasive and obnoxious. 

“So… you’ll come?” You take a moment to think, despite already knowing your answer. You were too easy to guilt-trip, you knew. Too trusting, too. But Mina was right, you did owe her. You sigh. 

“Fine. I’ll come.” Mina’s entire face lights up as she cheers and hurries to her feet. Your joints creak as you heave your limbs off of the bed while Mina begins babbling instructions your way. 

You were rather talented at board games. And silly banter. You might even have a chance at walking away with the money. This will be fun, you assure yourself. 

“...So, yeah. Just bring ten bucks. And maybe change first.” Her eyes take one last glance at your outfit in light disgust. “Be ready in half an hour?”

“Mhmm,” you groan, stumbling to your closet. You sniff one of your old sweaters and when no ungodly stench meets you, you shrug it on in place of your tee. Mina thanks you before trotting out of the room, taking away your snack with her. 

This will be fun, this will be fun.

Or, at least it better be. You make a mental note that, if this goes south, you aren’t leaving this apartment for the next six months. 

After sprucing up your appearance and coating yourself with cheap perfume, you approach the supposed ‘board game club meeting’ (how the hell did that get approved, anyway?) with a newfound sense of confidence. Your smile is beaming, your shoulders are back and unbothered, your skin glowing. Wait, doesn’t that phrase mean you’re pregnant? You can’t remember. Not that pregnancy is even a remote possibility for you anyway. What with you never leaving the apartment and all.

You trail after Mina as she weaves through the library halls, before slowing in front of a corner study room. You’re astounded she made it here so easily, you had no idea this was even here. To your knowledge, this wing of the library was reserved for storage and staff. 

 Just as you’re about to follow her through the door, she spins to face you. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking and you know if you really don’t want to go-” 

“Oh my god, we’re here already! Let’s just go in!” You smile at her teasingly while she blushes. Despite how it might look to outsiders, you and Mina care about each other deeply. You appreciate how considerate she is of you.

 “Alrighty then!” She turns back around and throws open the door, drawing the greetings of everyone else in the room. Your eyes land on Mark, Mina’s boyfriend, who’s already shot to his feet and pulled Mina in for a kiss. 

You barely have time to scan the rest of the crowd before Mark’s wrapped you up in a hug, ruffling your hair. He’d always been friendly, definitely a little much for you. But his affectionate ways are perfect for Mina. 

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here.” He finally parts from you, allowing you room to breathe. You shrug sheepishly. 

“Well, here I am.” Your hands fidget nervously at the belt loops of your jeans. “So expect to lose.” Mark laughs, wrapping an arm around Mina. You suppress the part of you that’s immensely jealous of their easy-going relationship. You’ve never been able to achieve quite the same thing. Your relationships rarely lasted longer than a few months, at best. 

“I believe it. You always outplay me in Monopoly.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “But Yoongi might give you a run for your money.”

Your blood runs cold. Chills travel across your skin. A fire fueled by anger and embarrassment that had almost sputtered out over the past month is suddenly reignited, a blazing furnace beneath your face and chest. 

“What?” Mina’s smile becomes strained while you stand there, face void of emotion despite the thunderstorm raging inside. Her voice lowers to a harsh whisper. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!” Mark, oblivious to the brewing conflict, smiles happily.

“Yeah, but his work thing got canceled, so I told him there was still plenty of room.” Pride beams off of his face. At any other time, Mina would congratulate him for his efforts to be inclusive and encouraging to their mutual friend. But right now, she was starting to be as panicked as you were pissed. 

Your mind is flooded with memories of fun conversation, casual flirting, and, ultimately, anxious nights spent staring at your phone screen, waiting for a very specific notification to appear. But it never did. You’re starting to see red. 

“God, Mark, I told you about this!” Mina turns to you, eyes frantic. “You know, if you just want to go back home, that’s okay. I’ll go with you, we can watch dramas and eat pizza and-”

“It’s fine,” you spit through clenched teeth. You force your fists to relax, allow a gentle smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes to settle across your lips. 

“A- Are you sure?” Mina touches your arm with concern, forcing you to tear your gaze away from a certain someone across the room. You shrug nonchalantly, forcing your smile to go wider. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Y/N, you seriously don’t-”

“It’s fine, Mina.” She immediately clamps her mouth shut, knowing your will is set in stone by the harsh tone of your voice. She nods vigorously and steps back into the arms of a very confused Mark. 

“Okay, okay.” She puts up her hands defensively before smiling and facing the rest of the group. “Who’s ready to get started?” She’s met with cheers and smiles as Mark settles into a seat beside her and starts dealing cards, leaving one empty chair, across from Yoongi. 

You slide into it, meeting his intense gaze as he looks up from his phone. Not that it surprises you, but he appears exactly the same. He’s fucking gorgeous. His features are soft, yet when he meets your eyes with that piercing gaze and unreadable expression, he becomes sharp and intimidating. His greyish-brown locks just barely sit above his dark, umber eyes, effortlessly tousled. Even his taste is good, his outfit composed of a leather jacket and vintage band t-shirt, topped with a single hoop earring. 

God, he is so perfect. Was so perfect, until he’d ignited your unending anger. 

“Hey,” you mutter, words coming off much more bitter than intended. Whatever. It’s how you feel, anyways. 

“Hey,” he replies. “Been a while.” His eyes never leave yours. 

“Sure has.” Your nostrils flare against your will. “You doing alright? Gone on any more blind dates?” Yoongi’s lips twist into a scowl. 

“Can’t say I have. You were the one and only.” The staredown between you two could start wars. The negative energy you’re generating sends a chill down an unsuspecting Mark’s spine. 

Your brooding is interrupted when a shiny, white sticker is passed in front of you. 

“It’s a name tag!” Mina explains, looking between you two anxiously. “You can decorate it. It’s fun.” You internally roll your eyes at Mina’s not-so-sly attempt to break up your silent argument. 

You grab a stray pen to scribble your name, but just as the ink begins to meet the sticker, fingers tighten around your wrist. With his free hand, Yoongi takes the sticker from you, bringing it to his side of the table. 

“Let me do it. Your handwriting is shit.” You grimace. He isn’t wrong. You work to get your mind moving, you’re already behind in the insult-slinging. After a brief moment, Yoongi releases your wrist and snatches the pen from your fingertips, dipping his head to start writing. 

“So are your dialing abilities.” Yoongi pauses, his eyes lifting, a poorly built facade of confusion masking what you’re sure is smug pride. The little shit. 

“What?” he asks curiously, pen lowering. 

“You heard me.” You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, as if daring him to challenge you. This asshole had the nerve to pretend he enjoyed your company despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, treat you to a nice date, not call you ever again, NOT EVER CALL YOU AGAIN, and then pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about? God, you’d really dodged a bullet there. Or, you would have. If Yoongi had picked up the damn phone and taken a shot in the first place. 

After a few seconds, a smirk plays on his lips and he shakes his head, returning to the sticker. 

“I see you and Yoongi are acquainted!” Mark comments, throwing an arm over your shoulder while blissfully unaware of the situation. Oh, to be pretty and ignorant. “He’s a monster at Risk, let me tell you. He could probably take over the world if he really wanted to. Most of the time, he’s the lucky guy walking away with the payout.” Yoongi shrugs, eyes still focused on the project before him. 

“Or you guys just suck.” Mark laughs, the boisterous sound rattling from his chest. 

“Either way, he’s the guy to beat.” You nod in understanding as a plan hatches in your mind. You rub your hands together, not unlike a cartoon villain. Your fixed smile becomes slightly crazed and Cheshire cat-like. 

Interesting. Very interesting. So, if you were to, perhaps, theoretically, make some private bets and win this game night, Yoongi would be out a shit ton of money? Now that sounded like fun, Mina be damned. Screw closure and moving on, revenge is much more gratifying. 

When Yoongi finishes your nametag, you slap it on your sweater without so much as a glance, oblivious to the way his face falls. 

If it took every fiber of your being, you were going to beat Yoongi’s ass, steal his money, and never ever see him again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Fuck!

How was it possible for somebody to be good at Candyland?! The game’s pure goddamn luck. But here Yoongi was, having claimed victory for three out of the six games played so far (you claiming the other three) and being well on his way to winning the seventh and final game: Uno. 

You, Yoongi, and Mina are down to three cards each, while Mark and the other participants are too caught up in rambunctious conversation to care that they’re losing terribly. 

Mistakes have been made. You had egged Yoongi on into raising the bets between you two from ten to fifty dollars. And now you were fearing you’d lose. But your will was still strong, refusing to give up so easily. And where there was a will, there were Draw Four cards. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” Yoongi groans, reaching to draw from the pile. But at the last second, his fingers flicker back to his hand, slapping his own Draw Four card onto the table. You sigh, banging your head against the table without an ounce of embarrassment or true anger. That time had long passed. Now you were just exasperated. 

Mina cries out in protest, but having nothing to counter with, she begrudgingly draws eight, eliminating her from the close race between you and Yoongi, having two cards each. Yoongi smiles apologetically, making you laugh quietly to yourself. 

When he wasn’t being an ass, Yoongi still made pleasant company. He was nice and sarcastic and introspective, never failing to add something new to the conversation. Despite your initial resolve, you’d found yourself opening up to him once again, obnoxiously cracking your own jokes and telling wild stories from your past experiences. Whenever Yoongi smiled or laughed at you, your heart soared. If only he had called you back, things could be different. 

But they weren’t. This is a war now. A war you intend to win. 

“What are you doing?” The question startles you from the goofy selfie you’re taking as you wait for the play to make its way around the table. You set down your phone, ignoring the way that, in the picture, your eyes are straight ahead, meeting Yoongi’s, rather than directed at the camera.

“Texting my nephew.” Yoongi cocks his head, brows furrowing. “He’s five and has a tablet for some godforsaken reason. We just send each other pictures of ourselves making stupid faces back and forth. It’s silly.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly sheepish, heat rising to your face. It’s probably the bad air conditioning in this place. Yoongi’s confused expression melts into a soft smile, making the furnace beneath your cheeks blaze hotter. 

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“What?” He shrugs, taking a sip at his soda. Your eyes narrow. What kind of game is he playing? Does he think flirting with you will distract you from the mission at hand? Because if so, he’s an absolute idiot. 

“You’re an idiot!” you’re yelling just a few minutes later. Yoongi’s practically cackling from across the table, clutching his middle with one hand, the other holding just one card. You still had two, but no matter. It’s pretty unlikely he’ll be able to play his hand anyway. “The cookie is the backbone of the entire Oreo! Without it, the whole experience is ruined! Don’t disregard it so easily.” Yoongi only snickers more, his gums peeking out from behind his massive smile. He’s enjoying the way you get riled up so easily, how quickly he can get under your skin with the most meaningless of words. 

“It doesn’t even taste good, Y/N. The least they could do is make it taste like sugar, since that’s practically all an Oreo is.” You roll your eyes. 

“That ruins the whole balance. The only thing you could possibly add to an Oreo to make it better is peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter?” Yoongi leans forward in interest and slight disgust. You nod assuredly, finding yourself leaning forward as well.

“Trust me, it’ll change your life.” Yoongi looks at you earnestly. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s you that’s the life-changer.” Your eyebrows pop upward, jaw momentarily dipping open before you snap it shut. No. No. You’re not falling for this again. You scoff and fall back into the incredibly uncomfortable chair, which only makes Yoongi smile proudly. 

“Y/N, it’s your turn.” Mark nudges you and you barely acknowledge him, slapping your blue four onto the pile easily. 

Yoongi looks at you oddly, lolling his head to the side. 

“What?” you snap, giving him your best glare.

“You’re done with your turn?” he asks, expression turning slightly concerned. God, he was such a fucking tease. 

“Yes I’m done, you dipshit. Play your turn.” You glance at your phone screen, seeing several notifications from your nephew and a scolding text from your sister for encouraging his behavior. 

Yoongi sighs, drawing his card when he can’t play. When you glance up, there’s a smirk on his face once again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoongi’s smirk deepens. 

“You didn’t say ‘Uno.’” You stare at Yoongi. He starts to snicker again. 

“Fuck!” you shout, ignoring Mina’s many comments about ‘language!’ and ‘non-competitive dialogue!’ Yoongi laughs in your face, not even bothering to cover his mouth and try to spare you. You’re about to go ballistic, your fists clenched as Yoongi does the favor of drawing four for you, sliding them in front of you. God, you hate him. 

In the end, neither of you wins. Some freshman with glasses you didn’t know took the victory, teasing his apparent girlfriend for losing. Who even let freshmen in here, anyway? The participants decide that the winnings will be divided between you and Yoongi, since you both won three games, and the mini-bet between the two of you becomes null, with neither of you able to fully stake your claim.

But you’re the one who’s really been defeated. You couldn’t even succeed in getting a second date with this guy, what made you think you could beat him in board games?

You give Yoongi a small, meek nod before standing to go. Mina left with Mark already after double and triple-checking that you were okay to walk home alone. You make for the door, open the handle as unexpected tears threaten to prick at your eyes. 

You’re so pathetic. You’d let a fucking blind date get you so upset you’d barely left your apartment in the past month except to go to class. Could you really be faulted? You hadn’t had so much fun with someone in your entire life. You could feel the connection, the spark, between the two of you. You were certain this was the one that would last. So you took the leap, gave him your number, proposed a second date. But he never called you. Not once. 

You’re unlikable. Unlovable. You don’t deserve to win game night, let alone to win at life or relationships or-

“Y/N, wait up.” Yoongi’s found his way next to you as you trudge out of the library, staring straight ahead. 

Great.

“What is it, Yoongi?” You shoot him a dark look, only to find his ears tinged pink and his hand awkwardly scratching his scalp. 

“Well, uh, I was thinking.” The sentence ends, thought hanging unfinished in the air. 

“You were… thinking?” Yoongi jolts, like he’d forgotten you were here. His eyes never meet yours, contrary to his crude confidence from before. 

“Yeah! And, um-” He sighs, taking a deep inhale through his nose. “I think we should use the money we won and go on a second date.”

What.

“What?” You’re openly gaping at him now. “Why?!”

“Because I really enjoyed our first date and I’d like another one.” You’re running out of air, sputtering on your breath. 

“But- But you didn’t even call me! I asked you out and now you suddenly change your mind?” After an excruciating moment, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, panicked rather than unreadable. The image is unsettling and unfamiliar. You’re starting to feel dizzy. 

“Because you gave me a fake number!” You gawk at him in confusion. “Or that’s what I thought, until you were talking earlier and I put it all together.” He grins, seemingly finding his confidence again. “Your shitty handwriting made me misread your number. I almost thought it was on purpose until now, that you just wanted to get rid of me. But it was all a misunderstanding.”

The weight of his words settles on your shoulders, making your head spin. All a misunderstanding? All those stupid tears and endless nights over… a misunderstanding? You could laugh. You do, actually. The sound makes Yoongi jump as the two of you step outside, the night oddly warm despite the time nearly reaching midnight. A stupid, dopey grin spreads across your face. 

Yoongi doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t think you’re stupid or unlikable. You’d done everything right, well, almost everything right. It’s humorous, really. 

“So, uh… What do ya say? Tomorrow? Seven?” You smirk. 

“Bold of you to assume I’m free.” Yoongi’s grinning too, enjoying the casual banter significantly more than the way his face grew flushed and he couldn’t seem to spit out what he wanted to say. 

“Well, then cancel your plans.” His eyes flash wildly and you giggle childishly, taking delight in his antics. You nod, your cheeks beginning to ache. 

“Tomorrow at seven.” Yoongi grins as you prepare to go your separate ways. 

“Tomorrow at seven.” You spin and begin walking the other way, but not before Yoongi can call after you again. 

“What?” You laugh, yelling at him from down the sidewalk, the streetlamps barely illuminating his figure. 

“Check your nametag! And text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe!” You laugh again. 

“I don’t even have your number, dipshit!” Yoongi sighs loudly, the sound echoing down the empty street. 

“Just check the fucking nametag!” 

“Fine, fine!” You giggle as you peel the sticker off your shirt. Your giggle intensifies when you see its contents. 

Along with your name, Yoongi decided to draw a small picture that you could only assume was you, composed of an angry face, frazzled hair, and devil horns. And in the bottom right corner is a string of digits. You’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at the piece of paper. You tell yourself to find a safe place to keep it when you get home. 

“Goodnight, Y/N!” he shouts, figure fading farther in the distance. 

“Goodnight!” 

You practically skip home, your body singing with adrenaline and joy. 

You muse that your world might never be in balance or harmony, not in your lifetime, anyway. 

But with you beside Yoongi, you thought it’d be pretty damn close. 

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Five. Missed You

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland.

a/n: hopefully this will mend your hearts from the last chapter! this chapter is dedicated to my best friend ira @stylesloveclub who is quite literally my real life Frances, ily :’)

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST chapter word count: 9.2k

warnings: biphobia, y/n going tf off, and fluff

LETS TALK ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It’s been a while since you ever felt happy again. 

You missed the way you would laugh with your friends freely, or the way you feel yourself blush, making the corners of your lips turn up into a smile. But ever since that day, something inside of you switched. 

Ever since that day, you weren’t the same person anymore. You held so much pain and anger inside of your heart that there couldn’t have possibly been anyone to switch that back to your normal, besides one person of course. 

But the pain and anger wasn’t just from that one day; it was the built up emotions you kept inside of you for years causing you to lash out, and that day was the last straw. 

A week after that horrid day, you were able to get out of bed as you left your ruffled warm sheets and tear damped pillowcases. Frances and Alice had told the staff you weren’t feeling well that entire week, and luckily they understood and were able to find a replacement for your class. 

You didn’t get out of your room until everyone in the house had left in the morning, which was about eight a.m, and you were locked away in your room before they were able to see you as they arrived home. You really didn’t want to see anyone; the presence of any other breathing soul was out of your favor during that week as you just wanted to wallow your way through the days. 

You figured, after that week, that you needed to get back to work. It wasn’t like you to be so in your feelings and to practically stay in bed for an entire week, but the pain was so very different from anything else you’ve ever felt. You missed him dearly, that’s a given. And if you couldn’t be with him, then you were fine with just being friends. His presence around you is what you really wanted; you just needed him to be around, but you couldn’t get into contact with him--it was like he fell on the face of the earth. 

On your first day back, you had a morning class as did Frances, so she wanted to pick you up and get coffee before you both headed to work. Alice had a class later that day, so it was just the two of you. But you enjoyed spending time with them individually. 

“Hey, doll! Hop in,” Frances smiled, tapping the leather seat beside her, and you got into her lavender Chevrolet convertible. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” you said softly, looking at her. She smiled, turning your head to look at you, and finding such a heartbroken woman who desperately needed some sleep from the heartache and exhaustion. 

“Anything for you,” she said back, grabbing your hand as she drove. 

Frances had picked you up an hour earlier than when classes began, wanting to just talk and listen to you, and if you didn’t want to do either, she just wanted to keep you company, wanting to be there for you.

The car was parked on the curb in front of the coffeehouse, which was around the corner from the studio. As you walked in, you were met with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee; the scent filled your senses as you felt as if you were in a cabin in front of the fire on a cold day. It was definitely not a cold day as you wore black shorts that stopped mid thigh and a cropped black t-shirt; Frances was wearing the same, but she wore white shorts and a baby purple cropped tee, and you loved how much she loved the color lavender. 

“Go find us a table,” she said, insisting on paying for the coffee. The coffeehouse wasn’t that packed—a few people working as they wrote or read the newspaper. 

You found a seat next to the window on the side of the shop, and waited for your hot drink as you watched the sun proceed to get brighter and brighter as the minutes went by, and you were too distracted to notice Frances sitting in front of you, drinking her coffee, and you assumed she might’ve been sitting in front of you for a while. 

“Thank you for the coffee,” you said, picking the hot drink up and blowing on it for it to cool down. 

“Of course.” 

It was completely silent between you two as you both drank your coffees and enjoyed the comfortable silence. It was times like these where you appreciated Frances. Without a doubt you love your little group, but when the three of you are together, it can be very chaotic—fun but chaotic to the point where you’re a bit overwhelmed. But with Frances, you were able to be comfortable in just sitting across from one another without saying a word. She knew how to have fun agreeably, but she knew how to be that friend that let you take your time or to simply just keep you company when you’re feeling lonely. 

After a while, you looked at her, and she was already looking at you, but her eyes perked up and she had a bright smile on her face. 

“Thank you again, doll-”

“You need to stop thanking me,” she giggled, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up slightly. 

“I mean it though. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done—Alice too. You always call me to see if I’m fine, and you picked me up, like that’s so sweet of you,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. She reached her hand across the table to hold yours. 

“Of course, I’m gonna be here for you. We’re best friends—have been for years now. And you’ve been through a lot. It’s time we hold some of the weight for you,” she said with a small nod. Her words caused the tears in your eyes to fall, like they triggered them to flow as they pleased because you’ve been wanting to hear those words for a long while now. 

“You’re the best. I’m so thankful for you,” you said as you tried to contain your sobs. Frances got up from her seat and walked over to your side as you scored to the seat next to you so she could sit on the seat you were in prior. 

She hugged you into her chest as you quietly sobbed into her neck while she soothed your back to comfort you. To outsiders, they were probably thinking how early it is for a breakdown, and you agreed, it was too early. However, you were in a bubble with your greatest friend as she was combing through your hair, comforting you through your greatest pain, and the outside world meant nothing at the moment. 

It was 10 minutes before class started when you and Frances entered the studio the week after locking yourself up; Susan greeted you with a big smile as Frances said she’ll see you after class and walked down the opposite hallway. 

“Welcome back, lady,” she had said with bright eyes. You softly smiled at her, immediately regretted agreeing to any social interaction--not that Susan wasn’t the sweetest person you’ve met, but you were still broken and sad. 

“Hi, Susan,” you said to her as a pained smile on your face as you walked by her desk. But before you walked any further down the hall to your class, you backed up slightly to stand next to the reception desk. Her brows raised, waiting for you to speak. “Uh, did I happen to get any calls while I was away? Did someone call for me?” You asked warily, not knowing what answer you wanted to hear. 

“Nope. No calls were made for you. It was a pretty slow week,” she replied back, her usual smile on her face. Your heart sank a little, hoping a certain someone would have called you. 

“Tell me about it,” you had muttered under your breath. “Thank you though,” you spoke directly to her before you walked away. 

And it was like that for the longest time; you asking Susan if you had gotten any calls after each class and her saying no. You figured she had caught on a bit from your constant asking, but it was a bit upsetting to hear that no every single time. You just wanted a single call from him; to ask him if he was okay, where he’s been, and to simply just hear his voice. 

The voice that had brought you immediate comfort and ease from your crazy and busy life. The sound that was music to your ears when he laughed or talked to you in his deep sultry voice. And you just wanted him to tell you that he was okay. You could practically hear his voice in your head as if it were the only sound you memorized. The way he said ‘sweet girl’ was like the line in a song that you would  repeat over and over again because it just gave you ultimate chills. 

You heard so crisp and so clearly; he would say ‘sweet girl, I’m doing okay. Don’t worry about me.’ But you couldn’t help but worry about him. 

You missed your honey dearly. 

And you continued missing him. 

Up until now, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Six months later, there was just something about him that never left your mind and especially your heart. The hole in your chest was enough to explain to yourself how you felt, and it wasn’t normal to feel this way. 

“Hey! I know you’re in your feelings at the moment, but would you please sing along with us?” Alice asked from the seat next to you as you heard Frances mutter a ‘please’ from the backseat. 

You three were on your way to San Diego for a little trip girls trip. Although it was January and the weather would most likely be cold, you three were still on break as the studio hadn’t resumed classes just yet because of the holiday. But they would be back on next week, so you three wanted to have a mini getaway for a little bit before you have to go back to reality. 

“Okay, okay,” you playfully rolled your eyes at them as they saw your little gesture through your sunglasses. 

The three of you sang along to Elvis as you drove to San Diego. It was still quite sunny despite the month being January, but the air was crisp and cool. Cold enough so you could wear a sweater and some pants since California cold is cold to Californians. 

The drive was about a four hour drive from Beverly Hills, and you three stayed at a hotel walking distance from La Jolla beach. The trip was only three days because what’s really there to do besides go to the beach everyday, especially when it was cold out. 

“Okay, dolls, are we ready to go?” Alice asked you and Frances as you all settled into the hotel. You two nodded excitedly, grabbing your towels and blankets before heading out of the hotel and to the beach. 

You all figured out that the water was way too cold for a swim, but the sun was bright still as you three sat on your towels, all facing each other. You had bought some fruit for a little market that was on the way to the beach. 

“Think we picked a good spot--so many cute people around,” Frances said. You looked around to observe some of the men and women that were relaxing on the sand or in their swimsuits. You nodded in agreement as you took a bite out of your watermelon slice. 

“Ooh! I think that lady is looking at you doll,” Alice said excitedly. You looked at her and she pointed her head to the direction of the woman, and you turned your head slowly to find a beautiful woman in her swimsuit, smiling and waving at you. Politely, you smiled back at her. 

“Are you going to go talk to her?” Frances asked, and you shrugged. 

You knew that they were just trying to help the heartache in your chest that has been mending for the last six months. But if you still felt the same amount of pain as you did six months ago, you weren’t quite ready to move on yet. 

“Think you need that, doll. How are you gonna move on if the only people you really socialize with are us two?” Alice said, and she had a point. It was difficult to move past everything because you’ve locked yourself away and only limited yourself to some social interaction with people you already know. “It’ll be a nice change. And if you don’t want to talk to her, then come back here and you could talk to us! At least you tried,” Alice reassured you, and Frances nodded alongside her. 

You smiled softly at the both of them, and slowly nodded. You at least wanted to try, and being somewhere that’s four hours away from your home was a nice start. Handing your fruit to Frances, not wanting your fruit to get a sand flavor, and you got up. Your girls cheered you on, yelling out ‘that’s the spirit!’ and ‘so proud of you, doll’ as you slowly walked over to the woman who was sitting in her beach chair.

“Hi,” you nervously said to the woman. 

“Hey, cutie. Was just looking at you,” she complimented with a smirk, looking up at you. 

“Uh, yeah. My friends told me,” you said, turning around to point to them. But you also turned around just to see their reassuring smiles because you were actually quite nervous. And when you saw them beaming, giving you a thumbs up, you turned back around. 

“Well, would you like to sit?” She offered, and you said a soft ‘okay’ before sitting down on the towel in front of her, practically at her feet. “I’m Catherine, by the way,” she said, sticking her hand out. She looked a bit older than you--probably in her late twenties. She had beautiful blonde hair that was put in a high ponytail as she wore a cream colored two piece swimsuit. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said, shaking her hand as you told her your name. 

“Such a beautiful name for you,” she winked at you, flirting with you slightly. 

For the next thirty minutes, you and Catherine got to know one another, and you thought she was nice; she was very friendly, often stealing some innocent touches to your shoulder or your arm as she laughed about god knows what you said. 

Suddenly, someone walked under the umbrella and Catherine handed the other woman a towel before she sat down on the beach chair next to Catherine’s. They smiled at each other, and you looked between them; a silence fell through you as they talked. 

“The water felt great,” the woman said, and Catherine smiled, roaming her hand on the woman’s arm as she did to you. 

“Oh, by the way. This is Milly, my girlfriend,” Catherine introduced. Your eyes widened, feeling shocked as she didn’t mention that she had a girlfriend when she was flirting with you and touching your arm. 

“Hi, uhm, I should get back to my friends then,” you stood up from your crouch position, dusting your bottom off from the sand that had gotten on the towel. 

“Wait, we actually want you to stay,” Milly said before you had a chance to walk away. “Catherine and I are together, but we were curious about exploring with another partner, and we both saw you sit with your friends, and thought you were absolutely gorgeous,” she explained. 

You blushed, a bit flustered from what she said. You’ve never explored with two partners before, and you were curious as to how that’ll go down. But in total honesty, you weren’t feeling it. 

“That’s nice of you, thank you for choosing me, I guess?” You chuckled, cursing at yourself for how dumb that sounded. “But to be honest, I’m a bit heartbroken at the moment, so I’m not in the mood,” you said honestly. 

“Oh no, how could some girl break your heart?” Catherine said, assuming that it was a girl that got you sad. 

“I-It wasn’t a girl, actually. It was a guy,” you corrected. Catherine and Milly looked at each other confusingly, and soon after Milly scoffed. 

“Wait, so you don’t like girls?” Milly asked, needing some sort of confirmation. 

“I do! I like men and women. I’m bisexual,” you said, crossing your arms in defense, feeling like this was all going to end badly. 

“You like both...” Catherine said shockingly and you nodded as you took deep breaths. You tried keeping yourself together, not wanting to make a scene at the beach as everyone was minding their own business, as you looked at them with a stern look. 

“So you just couldn’t choose,” Milly said. You gave her a scowl look, furrowing your brows as the two laughed slightly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you said, rolling your eyes. You turned around, not wanting to be around the presence of people who put you down for your sexuality. So, you walked through the sand back to your friends as they were about fifteen feet away from the two. As you walked you heard them call out to you. 

“We know being gay isn’t appreciated here, but you being greedy and liking both? Are you okay, sweetie?” They called out, followed by laughter. 

Alice and Frances looked at each other confusingly, wondering what the hell happened back there before you grabbed your fruit bowl from Frances hands and marched back over to them, squishing the watermelon cubes with your hands so the juices of the fruit spilled out, and the fruit itself turned into mush. They didn’t see you coming as they were still laughing and making jokes about your sexuality.

And before you knew what you were doing, you dumped the entire bowl onto Catherine’s head, watching the fruit spill down her hair and onto her body as she gasped loudly. Milly gasped as well, shocked that you did such a thing. 

“Next time you want to make fun of someone’s sexuality, think again. Don’t fuck with us, I mean it,” you warned as your voice was tough and strong; the complete opposite as what it was when you were talking to her. You walked away to your friends as you saw both of their jaws dropped with an amused look as they were still confused but totally backed you up on what you did, even if they haven’t gotten a clue why you did what you did. 

Once you got back to them, you picked up your purse and said, “Let’s go.” The both of them nodded, excited to hear what just happened as you all gathered your stuff as you heard curse from Catherine and Milly calling you a greedy and spoiled bitch. As you walked, you turned around, blowing them a kiss for shits and giggles.

“Oh my god! What the fuck just happened?!” Frances asked as she laughed. 

You three stopped in front of the hotel as they both followed your lead, sitting on the curb, both on your sides. As you took deep breaths, you had so much adrenaline from the events that had just happened, but not even a minute later, you started laughing hysterically, which Alice and Frances found amusing so they joined you. 

“Oh god…” you said once you calmed down. “That was such a rush--I’ve never done that before,” you told them, chuckling. 

“Well, you never do things without reason, so it must’ve been a great reason,” Alice said, leaning her elbows on her knees. 

You then proceeded to tell them what happened from the moment you walked over to Catherine to the moment you felt so uncomfortable as they practically bullied you because of your sexuality. 

“Yeah, she deserved that shit,” Frances said from next to you. 

“Definitely. Can people just get over themselves and mind their own damn business?” Alice scoffed, rolling her eyes as she scoffed, saying that she would have done a lot more than throwing fruit on her if she were you. 

“I’m so over people saying shit,” you said tiredly, wanting people to accept you as who you are, but in this day and age, it’s difficult to. 

“Don’t worry about them, doll. You’ve got us,” Frances said, giving you a hug and Alice joins in as well, and you tell them that you love them. You put your arms around your two best friends, thinking that this is the most fun you’ve had in a very long time. And even though it caused a scene where you had to ruin someone’s hair and their swimsuit as they said nasty things to you, you had your dolls by your side, reminding yourself that no matter where you are in life mentally and physically, you’ll always have them. 

And you appreciated that so much. 

After an eventful day to start the trip, you decided you needed a drink. So, you three found yourself at a bar in Downtown as you chatted among them in a booth as you ate peanuts and drank one too many ‘gin and sins’ that made you buzzed and fuzzed. 

But that didn’t stop you from ordering more for the three of you nor did that stop you from accepting cocktails from Alice because she kept ordering as well. And the only responsible one between the three of you was Frances, which isn’t old news. Sometimes she liked to get down and dirty, but she didn’t like to have too much alcohol in her system, which you totally respect. 

But ‘gin and sins’ were your favorite, and when you said you needed a drink, you needed a drink. 

“Alright, think that’s enough for the both of you,” Frances said, limiting you and Alice. 

“Noo,” you whined. “One more? Please?” You reach across the table, making grabby hands at Frances. Alice nodded next to you. She was more tipsy than drunk, and you on the other hand, were drunk. 

“You said that in the last four rounds! I’m cutting you off,” Frances said sternly, and your eyes widened. 

“Damn, okay,” you said, slowly sitting up. 

“We should go,” Alice suggested. 

“No, you know what we should do? We should dance!” You suggested an even better choice, getting up from your seat as you danced in front of your table, Frances and Alice got out of the booth as well. You were shaking and swiveling your hips in a sexy manner, or you’re trying to be, and you’re not aware of the people coming into the bar and the people sitting peacefully in their seats as some watched you with an amusing smile or a confused expression. But you didn’t give a fuck as you kept dancing. 

“Alright, dancing queen. Let’s go back to the hotel,” Alice said as you huffed and stopped dancing while you pouted. 

As you three were walking out, Alice and Frances on both of your sides, helping you walk, five people came in all at once, causing you all to move to the side and wait for them to clear the door. You watched them walk in, and suddenly your eyes widened and you were complete shock. 

Alice and Frances slightly rugged at you since you weren’t walking at all, but you told them to wait. 

“What’s wrong?” Frances asked, and you let both of your arms go from their hold. They followed your line of vision and looked at each other in confusion. 

“Doll?” Alice called out to you. 

“Harry…” 

“C’mon-” Frances said as she tried to interlace your arm with hers, but you interrupted her. 

“No!” You took your arm  away from her. “Harry is right there,” you pointed towards the bar, and their head turned. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you felt so overwhelmed from seeing him again for the first time in six months. 

Before you knew what your drunk self was doing, you started walking towards the bar, and your friends quickly followed behind as they tried to reach for your arms, but you pulled them away before they could even grasp it. Once you got to the bar, you leaned your left arm against it as you faced him. 

“Harry,” you simply said. The man turned towards you, looking at you confusingly, but you were still convinced that it was Harry right in front of you. “Listen…” you said, trailing your words off as you weren’t prepared whatsoever to have him in front of you. 

After a whole six months of figuring what you would say to him if you were to meet him again; going through the words in your head and falling asleep to the thought of talking to him again, you stood there with your mouth slightly open but no words fell through your lips. A sad expression was present on your face as your mending heart was pounding through your chest, begging him to heal you fully. 

He looked at you, wondering if you were going to say anything and possibly wondering why a random girl would go up to him and call him Harry. And it’s the fact that he wasn’t saying anything either is what hurt you too. But you decided to speak up because if you didn’t now, then you would regret it later. 

“Harry…I missed you,” you said, voice slightly cracking just as your heart was as well. “Six months without you was hell, and I never want to go through that again. But if you don’t want to see me anymore, then that’s fine,” you told him, voice coming out in a sad tone as you didn’t want to go through your days without having him in your life. 

“Doll, we should go,” Frances said as she and Alice lightly grabbed your arm and tugged you backwards. “I’m sorry,” you heard her tell him. 

“Wait,” you said, and you reached up to the man and kissed his cheek softly. You didn’t care if it was Harry or not, but you’ve had pent up emotions for so long that you just needed to let them out. And even if it was Harry, you weren’t going to leave him without kissing him, although you’d rather it be his lips than his cheek as you longed to feel his lips against yours again. 

You despised that your last kiss with him happened under those events that night. That it led to something so heartbreaking and painful that you didn’t know when you would feel his touch again. You didn’t get the chance to anticipate the next time you’d be in his arms again. That the last time you heard the words ‘sweet girl’ from his mouth was when he was trying to comfort you from the pain you were both about to endure. And it’s like a broken record in your head, playing over and over again, and you don’t want to fix the broken record because then your favorite sound would disappear into the midst of nothingness. 

Alice and Frances pulled you away from him as they guided you towards the exit and back to the hotel. Not surprising, but you cried the entire way to the room until your friends put you under the covers and wiped your makeup off as you told them how much you missed Harry and you just wanted to talk to him; that seeing him at the bar, even if it wasn’t him, had made the sadness in your chest come back because of how much you missed him. 

They simply didn’t know what to tell you but feel sad for you knowing how much pain you were in. They hated seeing you so upset to the point where you didn’t act like yourself anymore. But they will always remain by your side as they kept telling you that you were going to be okay. 

You woke up in a small state of panic as you weren’t aware of your surroundings and the feeling of the bed not being your own. With a slight headache and the taste of the alcohol on your tongue the night prior, there were continuous knocks on the door that made you roll your eyes and groan as it interrupted your state of deep slumber. 

Lazily, you got up and looked at the bed next to you to find it empty as Alice and Frances didn’t seem like they were in the room either. You assumed they probably went out to get some food and bring it back as they talked about, and you also assumed that they had forgotten the room key, which is why they were banging on the door at ten in the morning. 

“Okay, I’m coming, jeez!” You yelled out as you rubbed your eyes and lightly yawned, walking towards the door. You unlocked the door, opening it as you looked down because of the light and said, “Why must you knock on the door so loud?” Once your eyes adjusted from the brightness of the outside, it widened as the figure in front of you was not who you were expecting. 

You blinked a couple of times, not sure if you were dreaming or drunk as your jaw dropped, not expecting to see Harry in front of you. 

“Hi,” he simply said. It was a simple greeting and you wished he said a full on sentence just so you could hear his voice again, but something in you freaked out, causing you to slam the door in his face. 

“Oh my god…” you said to yourself as you paced the carpeted hotel room. You tugged on your hair, taking deep breaths as you muttered to yourself about how he can’t really be outside of your room right now and you were just hallucinating that he was here. But when you heard the knock again, you were taken back to reality as you jolted your head towards the door and realized that you completely shut the door in his face. “Fuck,” you muttered as you quickly walked towards the door, opening it once again and meeting his eyes. 

Harry gave you a small smile as he took in your presence again. It was a long six months of missing you and wishing you were in his arms again. He longed to see your pretty face and beautiful smile again, and being in front of you felt a bit overwhelming for him that his heart pounded and his eyes glossed. He truly couldn’t believe he was standing in front of you, and even in your wakened state, he still found you the most beautiful person ever. 

“Harry,” you said as if you were calling out to him, believing but not believing he was in your vision. 

“Uh, hi,” he said again hesitantly. He was definitely nervous, and you were too. 

“W-What…what are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms and subtly trying to fix your messy bed hair. But he looked great as usual; he wore a red and yellow striped t-shirt with some grey trousers, and pale yellow loafers. Harry was the type of person who could make anything look good, and you were absolutely jealous of him for that. He didn’t look all that different from when you last saw him; his hair was still the same, but he had a slight stubble on his jaw. 

“I came here to see you.” 

“How did you know I was here?” You leaned against the door, still debating in your head if you should invite him in or not. 

“Frances and Alice. They told me to come to your room last night,” he said, chuckling slightly. 

“Last night…” you said, not thinking anything of it. “Oh, last night!” You repeated, realizing that last night was the night you apparently saw him, and it seemed like you did. “Oh my god,” you said as you buried your face into your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “That really was you, huh?” You asked, not taking your hands away from your face, but separating your fingers as your eyes peeked out. 

“Yeah, it was me at the bar,” he said, giggling as he remembered the events that happened last night. 

“See, I knew it was you! I had the smallest doubt that it wasn’t but convinced myself that it was,” you shook your head, chuckling. “Wait, that means you heard everything, and I really kissed you,” you said as you gasped softly. Harry blushed in response as he smiled lightly at you. “How did you know I was there?” 

“I didn’t. I was there with some friends and I didn’t see you until you came up to me. Was completely surprised to be honest. And then Alice came up to me, after Frances dragged you away, to tell me to come up to your room today. So here I am,” he explained, which makes much more sense on why they disappeared in the morning and why Harry’s standing at your door. 

“Here you are,” you said softly. It briefly went silent between you two; so many unspoken words between you as you two wanted to blurt so many things out, but you really wanted to sit down and have a real and mature conversation with him. “So, uh, do you want to hang out today? Figured we have a lot to talk about.” 

“I’d love to. I’m free the whole day, so we can do anything,” he said, and you nodded. 

“Do you want to go down to the beach? I can just get ready quickly and we can hang out over there?” You asked nervously, even though he already said yes to hanging out with you. 

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great. I’ll, uh, wait for you out here?” He said, backing up slightly from the door frame so he’s completely standing outside. 

“Okay, cool,” you said, immediately slapping yourself mentally once those words came out of your mouth. Harry seemed to find that amusing as he laughed a bit as he saw you beating yourself up over what you had said. 

“Cool,” he said back, in a way to make you feel better about saying it, and your face had gone flustered as you slowly closed the door. 

“I’ll be quick.” 

“I’ll be right here.” 

You nodded your head as you closed the door, closing your eyes as you took the deepest breath that you were holding ever since you saw him. 

“Really? Cool?” You said to yourself, rolling your eyes as you groaned before you quickly got ready. 

You were ready in 15 minutes as you wore a plain white knitted sweater and some leggings, considering it was a bit breezy outside, and you and Harry walked to the beach. Luckily, the beach was only about a five minute walk, and the walk was filled with silence as nothing came out of both of your mouths. 

It was a nice day out considering the month still being winter, as the sun was out and slightly shining with the clouds present. You and Harry found a spot on the beach where there weren't that many people around to interrupt you both from your conversation. 

Laying the towel down, Harry helped you as he held the other end to straighten it out, and you two sat next to each other. There was a bit of space between you two, and it definitely felt weird that you didn’t close the gap to sit closer to him, but in all honesty, you didn’t know if that was crossing the line. Plus, you didn’t know where you two stood either. 

Your heart was pounding as you kept your hands in your lap from showing him how shakily nervous you were to be finally sitting next to him. And Harry was no better; he wasn’t saying anything because of the fact that he was also anxious as well. He was nervous that he would say the wrong thing to you, and he didn’t know if you were angry with him for disappearing for a whole six months. 

After ten minutes of looking out into the ocean as the sun lightly hit your skins, you finally spoke. 

“So…” you started, not finishing nor knowing what to say. Harry turned towards you, thankful that you were the one to start talking. “How are you, Harry?” You asked, and he somewhat cringed at the sound of his name as he missed the way ‘honey’ fell through your sweet lips. 

“I’m, uh, I’m doing okay. How are you?” He answered, and you just shrugged your shoulders as you sighed. “Are you doing okay?” 

“Y’know, I thought I was—doing okay. I mean, I was better than I was six months ago, but seeing you…” you said, looking him in the eye as memories of him leaving and running off came back to you. But you knew it wasn’t his fault; he did what he had and was told to do. “It just reminded me how much I missed you so much. And how much the last six months for me were hell because you weren’t around and I didn’t have contact with you,” you purse your lips, and Harry frowned, feeling guilty for not even calling you back. 

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Don’t be. I understand,” you interrupted, but he shook his head in disagreement. 

“Listen, not calling you was entirely my fault—I could’ve just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to word his thought properly. 

“Harry, what happened during those months? I called and called, I stayed in front of your apartment complex and waited for you for hours, but you never showed up,” you said, not meaning to make him feel bad, but you were telling the truth. Harry frowned even more, looking down onto his lap. 

Taking a deep breath, he looked up at you again as he spoke, “Okay. I’m going to tell you everything, just listen to what I have to say first before you decide if you want to be angry with me, alright?” 

You nodded, not saying anything as you waited to hear what he had to say. But you knew you weren’t going to get angry with him, you simply just wanted to hear what the hell happened to him and why he went M.I.A for six months. 

“After that night,” he started, not explaining any further of what that night was because you already knew, and it was hard to look and talk about what happened that day. “A few days later, I got a call from Shareen. She told me to come to the studio for a chat, and I thought it was going to be about the role. That maybe your father had a change of heart and decided to cast me, but I was wrong.” 

Your brows furrowed, already furious that Harry going missing could have possibly involved Richard and you despised him even more for that, but you continued listening. 

“I went to Shareen’s office, but she directed me to your father’s, and he said he wanted to talk to me. Was practically nervous at this point.” 

“Harry, what did he say?” You asked as you grew impatient. 

“Told me that if I stayed away from you, then he wouldn’t ruin the career that hadn’t even started. He said that he’s not going to cast me for the movie I auditioned for, but maybe the next one,” Harry said sadly, remembering how down he felt when he left his office and the studio. He was so close to having the career he wanted; so close to having his dream come true, but they were crushed right in front of him in the matter of seconds. 

“What the actual fuck…” you said in a calm manner as you were trying not to lash out in public and in front of Harry. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry. That’s the reason why I didn’t call because he told me to stay away, and it was hard to and I should’ve gone against his wishes, but it’s my career, y’know? I couldn’t risk not having my dream come true, and I hope you understand why I didn’t come to see you anymore. But know that it was a difficult decision to make because I was close to risking everything for you until Daren slapped some sense into me,” he explained quickly, not wanting you to be mad at him, but he would be if he were you. 

“No, no. I’m not mad at you,” you said as your hand touched his face, cupping his cheek. Harry immediately got chills from the contact, and he missed your touch dearly. “I understand why you did what you had to do. You made a sacrifice for yourself, so I would never be mad at you for that. If you were to give up everything for me, then I would be mad,” you said softly, looking at the man that has had your heart for the last months. 

“So, you’re not mad?” He asked, needing reassurance. 

“No, of course not, honey. I’m glad you had to do what was best for you,” you told him honestly. “Yeah, it hurt not being able to talk to you or see you, and practically not know where you were, but look at us now. We’re right in front of each other and that’s all that matters.” 

It was really all that mattered to you. You were never one to hold onto your anger and you were very forgiving in the sense, but being mad or upset at Harry didn’t exist because he did everything with good reason. 

Harry blushed at the sound of his pet name coming from your lips. Missing that name was an understatement; he longed to hear it again, and throughout those months, he had no idea when he would hear it, but now it was the sound of relief and reunion. 

“I’ve missed you calling me that,” he said, face being flustered. You moved to lay on your stomach, and he copied your actions as you two lay, facing each other. 

The sun was getting a bit brighter, so Harry pulled out his sunglasses, putting them on and you gave him a smile. You were already wearing white heart sunglasses, but you took your pair off and reached forward to take his sunglasses off, and put them on you. They were a pair of red lensed sunglasses that were heart shaped as well, and you adored them. Harry chuckled as you put your sunglasses on him. 

“These are like the glasses I would wear. Did you take them from me?” You teased, and Harry giggled, adjusting your white heart sunglasses on his face. 

“I bought them because they reminded me of you,” he said honestly, and you blushed, smiling at him softly. Your heart instantly swooned once he said those words, and all you wanted to do was kiss him. “They look better on you anyways,” he complimented. 

“Those look really good on you too,” you said back. You missed the back and forth, complimenting or banter with him. It was fun and light, and made you want more with him. It was something you thought about daily when you were away from him, and having it back made you feel so overwhelmed with happiness and joy. 

“So, what’s been going on with you?” He asked after the glances that you two made each other made him flustered. 

“Guess it’s my turn to tell my part, huh?” You chuckled, 

“Only if you want to. I’m here to listen if you’d like,” he said. You smiled, happy he never changed his mannerism. He’s always been a gentleman to you and everyone, and that’s one of the things you loved about him. 

“I wanna tell you,” you stated, and Harry nodded, waiting for you patiently to speak. “I wasn’t really doing okay, to be honest. I was a mess, and I haven’t really been myself since that day. Watching you leave was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and not knowing when I would see you again comes right next to it. After about two months, I finally talked to my father. That ended messy because he had all these plans for me with my ex, Chris, about business and marriage and I never wanted them. Then it got to the point where I was crying in front of him because you weren’t in my life anymore. And I’ve never cried in front of him before, so it was quite the surprise for him,” you ended with a chuckle, and Harry nodded his head throughout you speaking, listening to you intently and taking your words in. 

“Did things get better?” Harry asked, curiously, wondering if her father changed his attitude. 

“No. He said some shit about if I can’t tolerate him or proceed with his plans, then I should move out. So, I did just that.” Harry’s eyes widened, shocked but relieved because you were somewhat free. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been living with Frances for about four months now, but I might move out soon just to get out of her hair, so we can have her own space. But I’m better now than I was for my entire 23 years of life when I was in that house,” you said in almost a relief. You’ve practically been miserable in that household; filled with toxicity and loveless people. 

Jane had been sad to see you go, but she still encouraged you. She was the hardest one to say goodbye to, but she understood why you wanted to leave. There had been many tears as she watched you pack your suitcase into your car, and she sent you off with telling you to find the boy that “captured your heart.” 

“I’m proud of you for doing that. I know you didn’t tell me much about your family and how you grew up, but from what it seemed like, you weren’t happy there. So I’m glad you have your freedom now,” he said honestly with a smile, not wanting you to seem offended. And you weren’t because he was completely right. 

For a moment, you two shared glances and basked in the sun as you both laid under it. There was no action of moving closer than how you were now, but the thought of doing so made you both nervous. 

“Are you still working at Sweetland?” You asked suddenly but curiously, breaking the silence between you two as the outside world of the ocean and birds filled the words. 

“No, I’m not, actually. I quit about two months ago, but I still visit every week because I’ve grown quite attached to everyone there,” he said with a breathy laugh. 

“Why did you quit, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I kind of wanted a different job, and I wanted to do something I was good at. Not sure if sex is the answer to that,” he smirked, and your eyes widened. 

“Oh, you’re definitely good at sex-” you paused as your cheeks had gone flustered because of what you said. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud, and that was definitely crossing-”

Harry interrupted your rambling by stroking your cheek with his thumb. The action had caught you by surprise, but it definitely shut your mouth up. His stare was so passionate and intense that you felt like you were being put under his spell. His spell of comfort and familiarity. The spell of love. But you had been under that spell since you met him, and there was no way he was going to reverse it. 

The thought of wanting to kiss him had never left your mind; you just wanted to pull him in for a kiss to relieve your need as the touch of his lips make you feel alive every time he kissed you. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said in a hushed voice for only you to hear. Despite the crowd being relatively loud as the time goes by and more people visit the beach, you felt like you were the only two to ever exist at the moment. There was no one around to pop the bubble you two created. 

“I’ve missed you so much more,” you whispered back, looking up and down from his lips and eyes. 

He was doing the same, although his gaze held a little longer onto your lips as he noticed your lips being like strawberry lipstick from the many lollipops you’ve probably eaten. But nonetheless, his favorite lips are yours. 

“I’m sorry for being so M.I.A,” he said once more. 

“Stop being sorry. You’re here now,” you grabbed his hand that was resting against the towel as your face cuddled more into his hand. 

“I was actually out of state. That’s why I wasn’t around.” Your brows raised, and he continued, “Went to go visit my mum in New York.” 

“Really?” He nodded. 

“Yeah. Hadn’t seen her in about a year, so I decided to save up a ton and go see her. Then I stayed for about two months, which was when I quit my job. I actually got back last week, and some guys at the shop wanted to make a trip down here, and then I saw you.”

“Yeah…” you said softly. 

“When I saw you last night at the bar, I really couldn’t believe it. And then when you came up to me, my heart was beating so fast, but time stopped. You were talking to me all drunk, debating with yourself if it was really me or not, and then you fuckin’ kissed me, and I felt over the moon but I was still in shock,” he chuckled remembering how he felt the night prior. 

“Knew in my heart that it was you, so I couldn’t resist myself from going up to you,” you told him honestly. Harry blushed, always loving your words and how honest you were. 

He moved his position back to a sitting upright as his legs were bent and his arms resting on his knees. He motioned you to sit between his legs and you happily obliged, immediately moving to sit in between them as your back rested on his chest. This was the closest you’ve ever been with him in six months, and you were taking it all in as he wrapped his arms around shoulders, and you placed your arms on top of his. 

The feeling of his body so close to yours had made you feel nostalgic. The moments where you two would lie in bed after sex or when he would put his arm around you as you walked the streets; those were the moments you missed the most because you felt so connected to him physically and emotionally. You longed for his warmth when you would go home to an empty bed and a bad day. You craved for his touch when you would lie awake at night as you stared at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing. 

But this moment was worth all the pain and heartache that you had to go through the past months. It was the only thing you were looking forward to when you were to be reunited with him again, and you almost forgot the feeling of his arms around you when you were stuck in your own world as you missed the security of his warmth. 

And you were happy. 

After another hour or two of relaxing on the beach in each other’s arms, you two decided to call it a day. You held Harry’s hand all the way back to your hotel room, and the separation was something you weren’t looking forward to. 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon, okay?” He said as he pulled you into a hug. Your head rested on his chest, hearing his beating heart pound through his chest as you wrapped your arms tightly around him—maybe too tightly. “Woah, woah. Might break me if you hug me any tighter,” he said jokingly. You embarrassingly loosened your arms, but you were still pressed up against him. You looked up at him, chin against his chest instead of the side of your face. 

You gave him a small smile, but there was a hint of sadness, he could tell. And he knew exactly why there was a tinge of sadness. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” he said softly, and your heart immediately started beating quite fast, but it swooned. The pet name that you hadn’t heard in so long was finally back, and throughout the whole day on the beach, you were wondering when or if he would call you that again. And when you finally heard it, the words were soft and slick like butter like you wanted to indulge into the sweetness of his words. 

Your eyes welled up with tears, “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that again for so long.” 

“Then I should’ve said it earlier, but I didn’t know if I was crossing the line.” 

“You’re never crossing the line with me,” 

Harry smiled, showing his dimples that you’ve missed, and he placed his hands on the side of your face before kissing your forehead softly, lingering his lips a little longer than he should have, but you didn’t mind whatsoever. 

He let go, raking his hands down both of your arms before holding your hand with his. “I should get going.” 

“Okay,” you responded as you nodded your head. He let go of one hand as he tried to walk away, but the hand that was still holding his, pulled him back. Harry studied your face as a frown was present. 

“Listen to me, okay? When I say I’ll see you soon, I don’t mean six months anymore. I mean in the next couple of days, but right now we have to get back to our friends, alright?” He said, looking you intently in the eyes. You sighed and nodded, believing that it won’t be months on end until you see him again. “Never gonna go that long without seeing you again. Hurts too much,” he pulled you in for one last hug, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll see you soon—I mean it,” he said once he let go. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, honey,” you let go of his hands as he slowly walked away. From a distance, he blew you a big kiss, and you caught his air kiss as you made a fist and brought it to your heart. “I’ll be waiting for the real thing!” You called out and you saw him smile widely. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely be there to give it to you! Soon, my sweet girl!” He yelled out back to you before blowing you multiple more kisses. 

At this point, you couldn’t stop beaming as you watched him walk away from your line of vision. The last time you watched him leave had ended in heartbreak, followed by heartache. But this time, you smiled as you watched him leave, knowing that you would be able to see him very soon and not wonder when you would. 

And you couldn’t wait to see his bright eyes and beautiful smile again, and of course, give a kiss to his pink lips. 

come chat with me in my inbox! 

CHAPTER SIX WILL BE POSTED SOON!

taglist babies: @froggystyles​​ @outofsstyles​​ @whoschantel​​ @4592222 @groovybaybee​​ @bfharry​​ @wellbafineline​​ @tfonty​​ @bfilipa52 @afire-hes​​ @thorsangel​​ @brrilliant-harry​​ @apples2019​​ @bbymichelleee​​ @harrys-cherrry​​ @ggaayyyong​​ @heslilac​​ @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​​ @sozvuchiy​​ @mellamolayla​​ @eviewildflower​​​ @pcterparxer​​

[yangrr]

dear no one [q.kun]

⇾ pairing : qian kun x reader

⇾ summary : love is worth the wait,especially when it’s your favourite food store aunty’s grandson

⇾ wc : 2k

⇾ genre/warnings : implied soulmate! au,inspired by Tori Kelly’s Dear No One | mild swearing

+if i may add,i want to dedicate this to @nctream​ who has always been the writer whom i admired for the longest time.thank you for being the sweetest person i came across this hellsite,though i never actually communicate with you but you’re so incredible and i hope you know that.much love!

All your life,you’ve wanted nothing more than to meet the one,the soulmate who was allegedly entwined with your soul before your time on Earth even began ticking.Everyone has someone,it was just a matter of time before you meet them.But that was also exactly why you were impatient,counting down daily on the crossed-out boxes of your yearly calendar,most of your friends had met theirs by now.Some married,some even with kids---or just happily dating.All but you.

It sucked really.

Going to work in the wretched company every day was like a punch to the guts when everyone around you was all about love.Mrs Kim on the marketing department always showed off her vacation photos--it was always jolly and exciting,grinning faces of her twin boys seemed to mock you for your lack of relationship.And there was also Mr Lee,a young intern who was at least 4 years younger than you but had already found his one and only.

And how about Mr Park,the old bumbling guy nearing his retirement age?His sweet plump wife never forgets to pack him lunch,constantly reminding him to wear his tweed coat in case he catches a cold in the draughty security room.

What about you?No one to come home to,no one packing your lunch or was there a partner for holidays.Twenty-three pushing twenty-four with no felicity in love.Lady Luck never smiled at you much,you could say.Maybe it’s your resting bitch face,it could probably scare off the fortune bearing deity and leave her quivering in her robes.

The day was cold as it is,heavy rain started its relentless onslaught on the wooden roof of the rickety store off the main road.You were craving hot soup after work and thought it would be a good idea to drive off course to visit the dear old lady who ran the shop on her own.She was an amiable creature,forever ready to offer a radiant smile that let her old beauty trickle through.The granny would probably be one of the few people you were genuinely nice to,which explains your big chunk of discount every time you stopped by.

But it wasn’t a good idea of course.Nothing you ever did was a good idea.

Your engine couldn’t start up after running in the rain for your car.Other than damaging the leather seats of your vehicle,your heels sunk deep into the slushy mud and broke right when you yanked upwards to get it out.Groaning in frustration,your fingers latched onto the tresses of your wet hair,the half-cracking nail getting caught between them.You forgot to cut them last night,and now it had turned its head back to bite you in the arse.

The you that made your way back into the shop shocked the small-framed lady,your disheveled appearance a huge contrast to the sleek you that had left the store a few minutes ago.You probably gave her little heart the dose of pump she never needed.

“Dear,what happened?”She exclaimed,scurrying over to you with two thick towels. “You’ll have to dry off,or you’ll be sick!”

She sat you down on the chair behind the counter,while you attempted to shield your ratty image from the prying eyes of her customers.It didn’t really work though,they still locked glances on you,curious and hushed gossip brewing among the group of malevolent looking ladies who look upon you with their beady eyes.

“Come,”She urged,ushering you towards the baby blue curtains that led into the kitchen,maybe.There was a “STAFF ONLY” hanging above the entrance,and the sound of pans clanging gave it away.

“Qian Kun!”Her frail voice shrieked in Mandarin, “Qian Kun,where are you,you lazy boy,”Tugging you by the arm,she led you further into the cooking area.The smell of cooking was making your full stomach rumble again,and you once again longed for the hot herbal soup with noodles. “Are you on your phone again?”

“I’m not lazy!”Was the reply.A fairly built man emerged out of nowhere,eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes rested on your straggly form. “Who’s this?The new cashier?”He queried,wiping his wet hands on the rag by the table.

You couldn't answer,your usually sharp tongue felt prickly and numb.You only stared back absent-mindedly,but he looked about as enamoured by you like you had been by him.

You knew the old lady told him something,and with the way she was yelling at him,you figured he was too zoned out to concentrate.Both of you tore your gazes away from each other when his grandmother reached up to his broad shoulders to give him a good shake.

“You never listen to me.” She grumbled,huffing indignantly. “All I told you to do is to lend them something to wear,and drop them back.”

The granny gave Kun a small shove, “Naughty boy,and you were so cute back then.”She muttered,retying her apron hastily and hurrying away to wait on the unattended counter.

“I’m still cute now.”He mumbled,looking sheepish in front of you. “I-uh-I apologise,that was embarrassing.”

“No worries.”You let out a small giggle,waving his comment off. “Your grandmother is cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled up in an amused smile,while he gestured for you to follow him. “I hope you can fit into my granny’s clothes,they are a little old-fashioned but I think you can make it work.”

The door behind the pantry led up to a stairway of wooden steps,and then into a fairly warm lounge.There was a small couch,and a bed accompanied with a shelf of books and board games.You supposed that this could be their resting place of some sort when they closed temporarily for the day,lunch break, or whenever someone feels a little out of it.

“This place looks really comfortable.”You remarked,shifting your black button-up from sticking onto your skin.It clung on like leeches,making this whole ordeal more unpleasant than it already is.The nail was giving you excruciating pain,the shard of the broken end digging vehemently into your fingertips.

“It is,my granny made sure it’s the best condition so all the employees would feel comfy here.” Kun rummaged in the closet to the left of the bed,fishing out a pair of loose black pants and a plain white tee. “Here,she didn’t leave any shirts here,but I hope you’re okay with mine.”

You nodded thankfully,reaching out to take them from him.The shirt smelled nice,your nose picking up on the lavender-scented detergent wafting from the material.

“Then I’ll drive you home?” The warm tone of his voice felt homely, sending hot waves across your body,making you feel like a lightheaded teenager talking to their crush for the first time,tongue heavy with nerves.But yet at the same time,the attraction that bloomed in your chest felt more matured and controlled than the seventeen-year-old you,age muffling the lovesick squeals that you would’ve let out when you’re alone in your room.

You had felt something when you first landed eyes on him,a familiar feeling stemming that made it impossible to wound your mind around.Maybe it was your affection deprived self that was being delusional,and it would pass like one of your many fleeting crushes.

But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander,thinking about what if he was the one you’ve been waiting for?

+

If there was a chance to hit the pause button,you would, in half a heartbeat.The quiet fragments of conversation shared brought you a sense of ease that you’ve never felt in a long time,with white noises and soft tunes of guitar strumming playing from the car radio was almost ethereal.The drizzle of the rain incorporated flavour to the moment like the topping to your favourite dessert,it was the perfect addition that completed the time shared.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow to return the clothes.”You said,unbuckling the seatbelt as he stopped in the lobby of your apartment complex.

“Alright,I guess I’ll see you tomorrow again?”Kun smiled,the kind that made your organs go mushy and all gooey,like someone stuck a ladle in you and began to stir aggressively.

“For sure!Thank you for the lift.” You limped out of the car slowly,careful to not cause more impairment to your shoes.You didn’t fancy going up the elevator looking like someone ran you over with a truck,but there wasn’t much of an option.

All you could think of that night were Qian Kun and his calloused fingers,deep timbre voice and gentle smiles.Maybe you were going crazy,but again,there wasn’t much of an option either.

+

“You seem very happy today.” Mrs Kim from the marketing team mentioned,the cheerful grin almost blinding you.You couldn’t help but spot the striking resemblance of the smile to her sons.Now,it suddenly appeared more kind and less scornful than you thought,and you felt a little bad for always being grouchy towards her.You realised it was nothing but your loneliness coming into play,and you would even admit that you were envious of her happy family life. “Had a great day yesterday?”

“Not really,no,”You told her. “But I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”

So the tales of yesterday’s misfortunes came pouring out of you,from the dreaded engine to the antagonising broken nail,Mrs Kim was more than shocked to see the unconscious tug of your lips upwards.

“And you’re still smiling after all that?”She laughed. “I’m gonna say that you met someone.”

Your eyes widened a bit,trying to cough it off. “I didn’t!It was just the store owner’s grandson.”

“So there is someone?”Mrs Kim waggled her eyebrows at you. “You cannot hide from me,child.That’s the face of an infatuated person.”

+

The bell jingled when you pushed open the glass door.Stepping in,you opened your mouth to greet the granny like usual,but was met with an unknown face gaping at you.It was a boy,around a few years younger,round marble eyes curious yet welcoming.His booming tone greeted you,far too much enthusiasm for your liking.

“Hello,welcome!What would you like today,miss?We have chicken noodle soup for today’s special and--,”

“Lucas,please stop talking so loudly.”Kun’s voice reverberated from behind the thin curtains. “You’re gonna scare all the customers on your first day.”

“I’m here to see Kun.”You spoke to the giant of a human,glancing swiftly at the kitchen entrance,slightly intimidated by his tall stature.He gave you a quick once-over,looking a bit confused.

“Are you his girlfriend?”He questioned,shooting you a broad smirk. “Kun ge is so lucky,I’m--”

“Lucas,what’s taking so long?”Kun appeared again like the first time you met him,drying his damp hands on a small rag. “Oh!”

“Oh,indeed.”Lucas said,mischief written all over his face. “Is this your girlfriend,gege?Should I let granny know about this?”

Kun scowled at him,murmuring something along the lines of ‘if you don’t shut up,I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of today.’

“Hey.”

You passed him the neatly packed parcel, “I’ve washed everything.Thank you again for being so kind to me.”

“I say this calls for a celebration.” Lucas interrupted,peeking from behind the cash register. “Kun,remember that sushi place you wanted to try out?The one near the local university.”

Kun hummed, “What celebration?”

“That someone is finally into you for the first time in twenty-four years?You should appreciate this effort made by this very beautiful individual.”

“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?”Kun hissed,the frown intensifying.

“Well,if you need someone to go with,I know a person who would very much like to.”You interjected,growing more bashful by the second.

“Great!Now you two settle between yourselves.I’ve got work to do!”Lucas said brightly,darting away.

Kun smiled,tucking his phone away in his pocket,glittering irises not leaving yours.

“I’ll call you.” He promised,and somewhere in you just knew he would.

And as you made your way out of the store,the keen sense in your being told you that something very special was about to begin.

Good things truly do come to those who wait,after all.

[margueritehall]

CAN YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH ME? - YMCULC

all the king's horses, all the king's men, couldn’t put me together again

( the archer ; taylor swift )

marguerite ( maggie ) brynn hall, the gentle bad-ass 

“ show me a hero and i’ll write you a tragedy. ” 

― f. scott fitzgerald

– BASIC INFORMATION – 

» full name: marguerite brynn hall

» nicknames: maggie, mags, margie

» age: twenty seven ( at time of snap ), thirty two ( at time of blip )

» birthday: january eighth, nineteen-ninety-one, ten fifty-five in the morning 

» birthplace: philadelphia, pennsylvania

» zodiac sign: capricorn sun, libra moon, aries ascendent 

» current residence: new york, new york

» gender: cis female

» occupation: social worker for the stark relief foundation displaced children division, later avenger trainee

– HEALTH – 

» physical health: overall, maggie is in excellent health. she works out most weekday mornings and tends to eat a balanced diet. she doesn’t drink too often or smoke at all. she knows that her health conscious habits stem from her need to control everything that she is able to but that doesn’t stop her from being set in her ways.

» scars: she has several small scars from various bumps and scrapes but there is a sizeable scar on the front of her left shoulder from a car accident while she was a freshman in college. a driver t-boned her small sedan in an intersection when she was on her way home from a final exam. when she woke up in the hospital, with both of her parents at her bedside, she had stitches stretching approximately three inches from her clavicle towards her upper arm. 

» broken (any) bones: surprisingly, despite being quite active, maggie hasn’t ever broken a bone. she’s quite graceful from taking dance classes since she could walk until she graduated high school.

– MENTAL HEALTH – 

» extrovert or introvert: since getting older, maggie has become comfortable with the knowledge that she is a relatively private person. when she was younger, she enjoyed being in crowds however, she now tends to retract into her shell when surrounded by too many people. 

» logical or creative: maggie is incredibly logical; she is very formulaic in her thought patterns. when it comes to problem solving, maggie has all but got it down to a science which can be effective but she’d be incorrect to say it was without fault. 

» optimist or pessimist: neither term seems to describe the woman very well; she feels as though she’d call herself a realist. the world has let her down more times than she can count so she makes an effort to always adjust her expectations towards the most-likely event.

» phobias / fears: 

» problems: maggie was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and generalized anxiety disorder when she was sixteen. she goes through occasional bouts of depression but she doesn’t find it to be chronic. though undiagnosed, following the death of her parents, she experiences the effects of post-traumatic stress. 

– PERSONALITY – 

» goals / dreams: maggie has always wanted to improve the world around her. when she was a little girl, she told her parents that she wanted to be the first doctor to go to space. when she found out that she’d have to be in space for months at a time, she quickly changed her plans. the brain always fascinated her and so she dove headfirst into her newfound passion. following the deaths of her parents, maggie wanted to help others like she wished that she had been and so she, once more, switched gears and went into social work. 

» quirks / habits: maggie is a creature of habit. each morning, she wakes up and opens the curtains around the house before pouring herself a cup of cold brew coffee with cinnamon syrup and oat milk. she makes her bed and begins her day. when she gets home from work, she turns on her fairy lights and fans before removing her makeup and changing in to cozy clothes. as for quirks, maggie wouldn’t say she has any but her friends would be quick to point out her concentration face-- whenever she gets deep in to a hard task, her eyebrows screw up tightly and her lips purse. she doesn’t like to look in mirrors when the room is dark, she only gets out of bed on the left side, and she habitually sings in the shower even when she isn’t home alone.

» likes: precipitative weather like rain storms or snow ( especially thunderstorms ), vinyl records, lighting candles and allowing them to light the room, cooking or baking anything from scratch, old books with notes in the margin from an owner long forgotten, astronomy and any associated phenomena ( especially eclipses and meteor showers ), fleetwood mac and other classic rock icons, acts of service from loved ones, dogs with smushed faces, taylor swift, watching films (or rewatching films, whether new or old), freshly brewed tea, watching the sun set and staying awake to see it rise again, wisteria vines twisting around a fence, ‘casablanca’, f. scott fitzgerald novels, anything that is a dusty shade of sage green, tom hanks, vanilla bean ice cream (not french vanilla), using a polaroid camera to capture a moment, iced coffee with cinnamon, the beach during winter when the northern shores get a little bit icy, long drives at night with the windows down, sitting on the roof in a companionable silence with a loved one,  the color of deep maroon rust, cozy throw blankets and an unnecessary amount of pillows on the couch and bed

» dislikes: too much physical touch, indifference or apathy in the face of injustice, the deafening sound of crickets and cicadas at night, showing any signs of vulnerability, open-toed shoes, powdery or floral scents, olives, thin pillows, overhead lighting (lamps only, thank you very much), lack of a routine, being unable to read situations and prepare adequately, not feeling in control of any situation, harlequin novels, ladybugs and any other insects, disorganization (physically or emotionally.)

» flaws: she feels the need to always be the strong one that she often doesn’t allow herself the freedom to feel without pushing it down. she has a habit of not letting people in, especially people who are new to her, and even when she does, she is always terrified that she’ll lose them like she’s lost most other people that she loved. she is a control freak and can sometimes be a little boss.

– FAMILY – 

» parents:       ; phillip hugh hall ( father / pierce brosnan )      ; allison marie hall née clark ( mother / jamie lee curtis )    

» maternal grandparents:      ; richard ernest clark ( grandfather / tony curtis )      ; virginia ruth clark née franklin ( grandmother / janet leigh )

» paternal grandparents:      ; hugh alexander hall ( grandfather / kris kristofferson )      ; marguerite joan hall née green ( grandmother / ellen burstyn )

» sibling(s): n/a

» children: n/a

– APPEARANCE – 

» height: five feet, two inches

» weight: one hundred fifteen pounds

» eyes: maggie’s eyes are one of her most striking features. the espresso brown orbs are speckled with golden flecks; they’re a rounded, almost almond shape.

» hair: her hair is chestnut brown and it has a tendency to gleam copper and slightly golden when the light reflects off of it. for the majority of her life, she had a tendency of keeping the gentle waves cropped into a side-parted, blunt bob that rested just above her shoulders. she typically wore her hair straight or blown out. following the snap, she allowed it to grow out beyond its typical length. she keeps it trimmed to just below her shoulder blades with a set of wispy curtain bangs to compliment the natural waves that she now maintains.

» face and complexion: maggie has a light skin tone that tans in the sun. she has no freckles on her face but has quite a few down her chest and arms; none of them are very dark. she has a round face which can almost be cherubic but as she’s gotten older, she has developed a sharp jawline that makes her look more mature despite her stature. her rounded almond eyes are lined with thick, dark lashes. she has a small button nose that pinches minutely at its tip as it turns slightly upwards. her brows are full and straight with only a slight arch. she has full cheeks with small dimples that frame her smile. maggie’s lips are typically tinted a red berry shade; her bottom lip is slightly more voluminous than its top counterpart which is home to a sharp cupid’s bow. 

» build: maggie is petite, to say the least. she stands just slightly over five feet tall and weighs just over one hundred pounds. though slim, her figure is a narrow hourglass. despite her size, she’s quite agile and strong. years of channeling all of her emotions in to ballet as a child caused a habit that has yet to die. when she feels the need to get rid of excess emotion, she runs or attends a fitness class to channel that away.  

» defining marks: when she was eighteen, maggie and her best friend poppy got matching tattoos. on the inside of her left wrist, there is a small crescent moon to match a sun on poppy’s. following her parents death, she got a second tattoo and on the inside of her upper arm, close to the crook of her elbow, there is one of two ravens perched on a branch. several months after the blip, she got another tattoo. on her right side, on her ribs under her bra-line, there’s a small star housed within four concentric circles. 

» dress style: maggie’s fashion sense is on the border between classic and trendy. she doesn’t stray too far away from her comfort zone or wear too many patterns. she tends to stick to jewel tones and neutrals. for her work, her style tends to be business casual-- typically a blouse with a skirt or wide legged trousers and a heel. when she’s at home, an oversized sweater and leggings or pajama shorts are her go-to uniform. if she’s out running errands, she loves a flowy skirt or a pair of mom jeans with one of her dad’s old, classic band tees. her shoes are typically a revolving door of plain keds or converse, ankle boots, or a small heel.

» faceclaim: jenna louise coleman

– ROMANTIC & SEXUAL – 

» marital status: she is unmarried.

» sexual preference: although maggie is primarily heterosexual, she’s never been closed off to the idea of dating anyone of the same gender if she found that she was attracted to them.

» ever had sex: she had sex for the first time when she was a freshman in college; it was with her boyfriend at the time, nicholas gray. as she’s gotten older, she has had a variety of companions-- some were romantic partners, several one-night-stands, and two attempted friends-with-benefits arrangements. 

» opinion on sex: maggie isn’t ashamed to say that she enjoys sex and the freeing feeling that comes with it. 

» opinion on relationships: although she likes the idea of a relationship, maggie’s fear of not being in control makes it difficult to maintain one. before the snap, she had only been in one long-term relationship which she abruptly ended after the death of her parents. she found that it was easier to try and turn off her feelings than to deal with them as everything in her life changed. since graduating with her second degree, maggie has been trying to open herself back up to dating and the possibility of a relationship.

» turn ons: the feeling of someone brushing her hair off of her face, being praised, bravery, kindness, interlacing fingers when holding hands, a genuine smile, sincerity, strong hands, bright eyes, taller men, a strong jawline, delicate kisses that gradually deepen into something more, kisses down the neck, deep conversations and debates, cologne that isn’t overpowering

» turn offs: sleazy behavior, apathy towards important issues, party-scene demeanor, bragging, lying, being late, ill-fitting clothes, lacking ambition or drive for moving forward

» past relationships:       ; nicholas gray ( first love / ben barnes )

» current relationship:      ; n/a 

» future relationship:       ; steve rogers ( tbd / chris evans )      ; bucky barnes ( tbd / sebastian stan )

– FRIENDSHIP – 

» big group of friends or several close friends: maggie would rather have a smaller quantity of people in her life with better quality relationships than to have a large group of friends that she feels as though she doesn’t know. 

» best friend: maggie was a relatively lonely child; she spent a lot of her time reading and imagining her life in other worlds. she had some friends but none that ever ventured further than the occasional hangout. when she was a freshman in highschool, she sat next to poppy stewart on their first day of orientation and the two have been inseparable ever since.  

» ever lied to a friend: she’s told white lies when necessary but she’s never lied about something earth-shattering.

» the most horrible thing they did to a friend: when maggie broke up with nicholas, she left him a letter on his pillow before she left his apartment one morning. she avoided his calls afterwards and didn’t speak to him for several weeks until he came to her apartment to try and work things out. later in her life, maggie felt extremely guilty that she wasn’t able to confide in poppy about steve’s plan until after he had already left.

» list of friends -      ; poppy stewart ( best friend / annie murphy / @petalsofpoppys )      ; pepper potts ( boss, friend / gwenyth paltrow )      ; tony stark ( boss, family friend / robert downey jr )      ; natasha romanoff ( co-worker, close friend / scarlett johansson )      ; steve rogers ( co-worker, friend, boyfriend / chris evans )      ; bucky barnes ( friend, lover, boyfriend / sebastian stan )      ; sam wilson ( friend / anthony mackie )      ; wanda maximoff ( future friend / elizabeth olsen )      ; monica rambeau ( future friend / teyonah parris )

– MORALITY – 

» ever been drunk: the first time that maggie got drunk was her senior year of high school; she was at a house party with poppy and she since vowed to never touch any drink with ‘punch’ in the name, ever again.

» lied to a significant other: following the death of her parents, maggie never disclosed her tumultuous emotions to nicholas and so he was blindsided when she left him on one random morning. with an apologetic  note of a goodbye, maggie made sure no trace was left behind when she slipped from the apartment in to the warm summer breeze.

» cheated on significant other: maggie would never cheat on a partner. she would rather end things than break someone’s trust in her.

» gotten into a fight: she’s never gotten in to a physical altercation but following her move in to the avenger’s compound, natasha and steve helped to train her tactically. after she moved back to the city, bucky takes up the position of being her trainer. 

» deepest regret: not telling her parents how much she looked up to both of them before they died. 

» religion: maggie was not raised to be religious. her parents always emphasized the importance of trying to be morally good whenever you could. she identifies as an atheist.

– MISCELLANEOUS – 

» playlist: https://rb.gy/kxqfbu

» instagram:

» gifboard:

» character inspiration: leia organa (star wars trilogy), alex parrish (quantico), emma swan (once upon a time), amy pond (doctor who), buffy summers (buffy the vampire slayer), emily prentiss (criminal minds), lily evans (harry potter)