#Don't care how political and dry our conversation is going to be We Are On A Date In My Mind

[oldmanlusting]

Dreams really do come true I'm going to get to meet my crush Alone at a café right on Valentine's Day

[supernovafeather]

Always Learning (18+)

FO!Poe Dameron x f!Supreme Leader!Reader

Summary : The First Order Commander Poe Dameron comes back from a mission and has to report it to the new Supreme Leader, but nothing prepared him to that kind of treatment.

Content : boss/employee relationship, humiliation kink, praise kink, degradation, dom!reader, sub!Poe, angst, inappropriate use of the Force, oral sex (M to F), worship.

Around 4k words

Poe was bursting with impatience as he paced almost aggressively towards the Supreme Leader's office. The mere thought of reporting his squadron's latest success filled him with pride, one that turned him into one of those nameless cocky pilots he got to crossed the path of throughout these years of service. Lately, many started to fear you. Not because of some sudden ego boost after Kylo Ren's murder - or "departure" as you liked to call it - but more because of the lack of good news finding you in the middle of the blizzard surrounding your base. What had to be a simple trip to celebrate this high tech and formidable military base got no other choice than to be turned into an extended and frustrating forced vacation far from everything for you. And as this part of the Galaxy remained mostly hostile to your conquest, positive feedback remained a rarity.

As soon as he walked in, Poe worked on his breathing not to let it get too loud. Between the slight shake of his hands behind his back, his heart pounding mercilessly and the raging blizzard outside his senses didn't know what to focus on. However his eyes could appreciate your figure turned towards the glass windows covering the whole wall, giving you a breathtaking view on the brutal snowstorm ravaging the valley. Your shoulders were low, as often these days.

"Supreme Leader," he started as his chest swelled with this need to prove his loyalty, "as my squadron's mission turned out the be a complete success I have the pleasure to announce you that the whole area is now yours. My men are still out there trying to secure the area for good but fortunately the blizzard is keeping the rebels at bay."

The Commander noticed the smallest shift in your upper body but you still didn't turn around. He liked it when you showed your bad mood.

"Will there be enough rations," you asked in a tired voice. "Absolutely Supreme Leader. The storm shouldn't last for more than three days." "Is everyone equipped with the new outfits?"

He adored that slight care you showed for his men, it changed him so much from Kylo Ren.

"They are. Also this victory is serving us as a huge moral boost for our soldiers. It confirms that you were right about insisting on invading this area. I've overheard several conversations and all of them were in your favor."

He heard the slight crack as you rolled your shoulders a little to ease some tension. It felt good to bring you some relief but you still hadn't turned around to face him. Sure he could see your dark figure contrasting with the vast whiteness of the scenery, but he needed more. There was something in the way you stood out there rather silently, so unreachable, that made him yearn for validation. As naive as it sounded he felt lost. Maybe due to the need to create new landmarks after this political landslide that could have crushed the First Order in a matter of days.

"How do the rebels react?" "We don't know for sure as the coms got affected by the storm," he replied before swallowing hard to get rid of the lump forming, "but for now they seem to be retreating to some caverns that we know to be empty." "Do they have rations with them?"

Poe opened his mouth to answer, and let it open as you finally showed your face. A tired and cold one for sure with dry skin, dark bags and a messy bun, but he still let his eyes lingering on yours for a while. Even the weird rash that erupted due to anxiety looked great on you, the Order needed a leader ready to go to the Frontline both physically and mentally. You raised an eyebrow at this but the sudden warmth invading his cheeks and the childlike grin that crawled on his face were stronger than his sense of professionalism.

"They don't. They will either freeze to death or get out of here weakened in a few days." "Focus on your mission, Dameron." "I am focusing."

It wasn't a lie after all but the faint and bizarre memory of those invisible hands wouldn't leave his mind. As disturbing this had been, it made his brain go overdrive everytime he thought about it. He displeased you once during your very first meeting when he remained unsure of your opinions and plans but discovered that getting Force-chocked wouldn't necessarily feel as bad as it used to.

"We lost two southern outposts." You stated. "What do you have to answer to that?"

The man's blood turned cold at the slight frown on your forehead. His wet palms found his hips as he wiped them on the cold black fabrics. His body anticipated any attack from you and the slight humiliation of feeling this tiny bit excited about it made him bite his bottom lip.

"I had no idea. Was the Resistance involved ? Were our attackers a bait?" "They were. Two outposts lost, and thirty soldiers as mute as corpses as long as the storm lasts. And I'm not talking about the ships, droids and ammunition lost in this…. mess."

You were incredibly displeased. He could see how void your gaze was. He lowered his. You might be much more in control of your emotions than Ren but it didn't mean you weren't dangerous. Anybody so enraged that their mind separated itself from their body should be feared.

"Tell me what needs to be done Supreme Leader, and I will do what's required. I won't let…"

His heart started to pump brutally in his chest as he felt that invisible hand resting on his cheek gently, but making him look up at you with a firm grab. You stood there, still at your spot with your displeased face directed to him as he struggled not to hyperventilate. Death couldn't be considered as something terrifying him per say but it might change.

"Many things need to be done, Commander. You won't be able to solve this situation anyway but you show your loyalty over and over again by volunteering even in what could turn out to be a suicide mission. Tell me why I don't have more dedicated men like you?"

Poe felt lightheaded at this unexpected compliment, but even more at the slight praising caress he could feel. As you said he needed to focus or his brain would shut down at that lack of blood.

"It's my pleasure ma'am. I want to lead the First Order to victory."

He felt so much younger and manipulatable like this, praised for his good work and under your unreadable scrutiny. The strange hand sliding up to his scalp behind his right ear had him almost dizzy.

"Come closer," you ordered in a stern voice.

Poe obeyed, stopping when the hand pulled on his hair. The shiver running down his spine felt delightful, as well as seeing you so close to him now. Barely six feet away from his Supreme Leader.

"You will take some rest from this mission. I know it was a tough battle in such conditions. You and your men deserve it. Then tomorrow morning you will go south and kill those bastards to take over the south eastern outpost. Another team will take care of the second one at exactly the same time. You will receive more info tonight. Am I clear?"

He nodded eagerly before letting a shaky sigh out as the pressure released on his hair, replaced by another soft touch easing the slight pain. If his eyes could literally devour you, there wouldn't be anything left of your still figure.

"Dameron."

Poe bowed in humiliation, only resulting in his neck getting grabbed by that invisible power.

"I'm sorry ma'am, this won't happen in the future." He groaned.

That was all a lie and you knew it, he could feel it. This was why you walked closer to him, defying his eyes as he looked down uncomfortably due to his face turned to the ceiling.

"You will never change, Dameron."

The second hand now rubbing his belly felt too good to be true.

"Supreme Leader, I'm sorry for any form of disrespect," he squealed as the Force disappeared from his body, "it was non of my intention to…"

The rest of his sentence vanished from his mind as you started to eye him up and down slowly. Still no emotion showing clearly on your face if not for that slight frown. The blizzard whistling against the massive structure around the both of you had at least the benefit of distracting him. Out of the blue he kneeled down, more guided by a primitive need to submit rather than out of respect. The pilot shifted so fast that a flash of surprise appeared on your face as he looked up at you.

"Supreme Leader I am sorry for the disrespect I may be showing to you. I'm completely dedicated to our cause and admire you to no end. Please let me supervise both of the tomorrow's attacks. I will take part to the one you indicated me but please let me take care of this."

Almost out of breath he dared to send you one of those seductive gaze he knew so well worked on anybody he met. Either to flirt seriously or just to mess with others it was his magic trick. Testing this on a new Supreme Leader was risky but he felt the need in his guts to act in such irrational way. Fortunately none of his mysoginistic pilots would see him in this state for a woman. The ethereal hand touched his face again, gentle on his cheek. The caring touch had him close his eyes in delight. It's been so long since a woman has cared sincerely about him. He could enjoy it coming from his Supreme Leader. That power you had could certainly get used in many contexts.

Getting slapped once then choked brutally started something a tiny part of him wanted to repress for good. He struggled in vain to remove that hand as you remained as still as earlier, your stern gaze examining him as he felt arousal warming his veins.

"Dameron. Keep your thoughts for yourself," you said calmly.

As soon as the image flashed in his head he got pulled towards you, his throat suddenly freed from the Force as he landed on his face. His eyes widened as he tried to get some oxygen back in his lungs, a shudder and pleased moan betraying the pleasure he felt as you stomped on his back to get past his body. Poe was thrilled. You saw it too.

"Is this the real reason you like to get into dangerous situations Commander," you asked softly, "do you like to feel death ready to take you with her?" "I need it to feel alive. But also out of loyalty. But this… It feels different," he confessed.

Poe coughed before stopping as you stomped on him again, your weight and your boots sending a new wave of pain he loved. He panted as he struggled to keep his hips against the floor, trying not to rub against it.

"Do you feel that way in your ship too?" "Not so much," he replied out of breath."

He remembered the time he had to stay in his TIE for ten long minutes before a mission due to the weather. Another storm that made it impossible for anybody from the outside to see through the windows so he had to release some tension thinking of your thighs. Right after he got flashes from his fantasies, you walked away from him and tutted disapprovingly.

"Look at me," you demanded.

The panting man groaned as he kneeled despite the several cracks he heard in his body. The second you opened your long coat to reveal the dark clothes beneath - a top and pants covering you entirely - he felt as if he shouldn't see this. It felt dangerous and he loved it. And seeing your covered thighs that close from him… His heart stopped as you walked up to him, his cheek pressed against your belly as your hand - your actual hand - started to pet the top of his head. His eyes opened widely as he could feel your fingers playing with his curls, feel your warmth beneath the fabrics, feel the soft and pleasing scent of your top. And also he felt divinely protected both by the way you embraced him and how your loose and long coat could potentially embrace him as well to keep him close.

"I told you to take some rest, Commander. I meant it when I told you you deserved it."

His heart ready to explode as you brought your second hand to his hair, massaging his scalp with such softness that he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. He didn't dare to do much more with his hands than making them rest on your calves. They were firm which wasn't surprising due to how much you trained these days to fight against boredom.

"You make me feel safe," he confessed, "you make us all feel safe." "Is it what you need?" "Absolutely."

The shaky sigh he let out expulsed any negative emotion remaining in him and he risked himself to press his face against your belly as sexual arousal slowly came back. Such a tiny layer of clothes between his lips and your skin. Your fingers tightened their grip on his dark curls and you started to run them through his hair.

"Damn it Dameron, can't you be normal?" "Please forgive me."

He went so far than he accepted his fate as he started to look down at your crotch so close from his face. He swallowed hard, licked his lips and knew you could see the same things as he did as you rolled your hips the slightest. As he leaned on to kiss that part, he stopped with a pained expression actually betraying an unexpected pleasure as something grabbed his erection painfully trapped in his pants.

"Dameron," you interrupted him sternly. "Yes Supreme Leader."

There was something hypnotizing at the way your belt got unbuckled. Sensually even as he watched it sliding slowly around your waist before getting tossed aside as well as your boots and socks. He moaned as the fake hand kept the same amount of pressure on his shaft without moving, and breathed in as your pants slid down, revealing white panties.

"Use your teeth." "Yes Supreme Leader."

Poe did as ordered, closing his eyes when his nose touched your warm belly skin, his lips grazing it before his teeth took a bite of this thin fabric separating him from your entrance. His hands now lied on the back of your thighs, guaranteeing him some balance while undressing you. He opened his eyes with a certain pride as he saw your private parts, his teeth now busy biting his tongue.

"You are being a very good boy," you praised softly, "you can kiss it." "Yes Supreme Leader."

The touch of your fingers got firmer as he let a brief and shy kiss where your clitoris was hidden. He pecked the same spot over and over, gently and slowly as he tried to get more accustomed to the strangeness and thrill he felt at this. His nose pressed against your pubis, he started to kiss the whole area with as much care and anticipation as before. On the skin covering your clitoris, on the right, on the left, above it, and beneath it. He exhaled against it as he felt forced to lay on his knees and hands to kiss a lower area as you spread your legs a little, is eyes now focused on a slightly wet spot glistening between your thighs. He kissed it gently, letting a small sigh out as his nose pressed against your entrance so his kiss you reach that precise part. It was enough for you to moan gently, your thighs trembling already as his felt his shaft getting rubbed delicately.

"We both need it," you whispered.

You directed his mouth back to the front, getting him kneeled again as his kisses grew more impatient to uncover what they were actually targeting. His kisses became sloppy, wet, barely keeping his tongue for himself as he tilted his head to left then right, the urge of sucking on your skin getting harder to repress.

"Do it."

Without breaking the cycle of kisses he brought his hands to your crotch, spreading your lower lips to gain access to your swollen clitoris. You were a trembling mess already and he took at heart to suck carefully on this bud, delighted by the effect he had on you as your hands caressed his nape, your body arching downward.

"Kriff Dameron, keep going," you panted.

He twirled his tongue, licked, sucked, kissed, everything at a higher pace to make you reach your high. It wasn't long before you did. He enjoyed the low but extended moan you let out as he circled around that sensitive spot, years of experience talking by themselves while his head moved tirelessly. He even chuckled as your hips started to rub your crotch against his face with more and more strength, his tongue now getting more adventurous as wetness started to cover his face.

"Do it," you panted again.

The both of your hands grabbing the back of his head as for a passionate kiss reached for his shoulder as soon as his mouth started to eat you out eagerly, your moans echoing the wet noises made by both your entrance and his own mouth. His arms hold you as still as possible, his hands wandering up and down to feel your muscles reacting to each of your motions. Your reactions were getting louder as you moaned his first name over and over. It was getting too much to handle for your body but nothing that would stop him now that he had access to your entrance. Power fueled his movements now that he had full control of what you felt. At least this was the theory. The Force chocked him again, forcing him to fall backwards with his face covered of your juices as you fell on your knees, panting and your own face sweating.

"You deserve more," you stated with a grin.

Barely recovered from the choking, he stood up, undressed himself with your help and felt himself getting thrown against your chair. Nothing too violent as his dilated pupils followed your every moves when you took your top off and straddled him proudly. Finally he got to penetrate you as you lowered your whole body, your seductive smile earning a kiss from him. You gasped at the ideas getting through his mind and for the first time, he heard you laugh.

"Not bad Poe. But let me show you a few tricks. Years of practice don't necessarily turn you into a wise man." "Please do, Supreme Leader."

The Commander gulped loudly while the stern face staring down at him kept its attention on him. Suddenly something darker started to contaminate the atmosphere, something making this moment even more thrilling for him. At first he thought it was simply the strength and dominance you put in every thrust, the way you managed to ride him seemingly effortlessly while contracting your insides around him to drive him mad. That deadly stare warning him as he melted beneath you added some spice and it got somewhat even more attention than your bare breasts.

"That's why I love it when you scold me ma'am," he whispered out of breath. "Keep quiet."

He grinned as your demand got tainted by this subtle begging. You were close too, your eyelids threatening to close but remained open for a mere question of ego. You were burning and the combination of your tired yet determined face did things to him. Then he understood. You were testing him. Torturing him as he noticed his orgasm so close, then further, then closer. His moans turned desperate, his lips formed incoherent pleas as you kept on riding him with that defiant gaze.

"You got it right Dameron." "You bitch…"

The sudden wave of pleasure vanished immediately, knocking him off entirely as his brain tried to process what was happening, then he felt about to pass out as it came back suddenly. You stopped moving right there, your hands grabbing his face with an infinite disdain. After a quick pause to catch your breath, you finally let your poison out.

"You are the bitch there, Commander. You walked in my office all proud of yourself and certain you would get a praise from mommy after making her proud. How pathetic."

The weird and frustrating lack of sensations inhibited him once again as he could only witness your orgasm crushing you, a shiver running down his spine as you grabbed him violently in an embrace that could have felt romantic and desperate for anybody that could have been watching this heated exchange. He could feel nothing at all and it scared him.

Then as if nothing happened, you stepped back with a satisfied grin and your exhausted eyes witnessing his distress as he looked down his erected shaft impatient to release his seed.

"I can't feel it what have you..."

With a simple hand gesture in the air he arched on his chair, mouth wide open as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He felt everything and even more. No noise left his mouth except for a disturbed and trembling sigh when his eyes slowly slid down his shaft that inundated his firm thighs and belly of his own seed now leaking from his chair. In shock, he kept his gaze on it before looking at your bored face while you were putting your clothes on.

"See? You can still learn everyday. That's why I always tell you not to get too cocky after your victories."

"What... what was..."

"That was the best orgasm of your life and the only one of that kind you will ever receive. Now get up and go to your quarters to get some rest. Instructions are already waiting for you."

Exhaustion crushed him suddenly and he accepted to appear as sloppy as he did under your scrutiny. He might have turned into the sloppy and disgusting Commander sitting so inappropriately in your chair but he started to appreciate it.

- -

Thanks for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it ! ☺️

@queen-of-elves

@qrjung

[atinydise]

Follow the rules (Part 2)

❦ Genre: Angst / Fluff / Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: Seonghwa.

❦ Word count: 1K.

❦ Requested: Don't ever believe me again when I say I'm posting something "soon" 💀Part 1

❦ Tags: @scuzmunkie, @butterfliesinthenightsky 🦋

Once again, you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror of the theater.

You fixed your hair, removed the tiny stain of lipstick on your teeth, and shamelessly opened another button of your dress.

“You can do it, girl!” You motivated yourself. “It’s just a date! You are a pro for dates.”

It’s been 10 minutes that you were trying to spot something wrong with your outfit or just yourself.

This guy that you met at a party, invited you to several dates before, but for this one, you felt a little bit more stressed or insecure.

He was so good to you. Always funny, complimenting you when you doubt your own beauty because of these stupid “beauty standards” or always available when you need to talk.

You were diving into your thoughts, daydreaming about how this date could end when you receive a text from him asking if you were okay.

Not losing another second, you walked out of the restroom.

“Oh Y/N, are you okay? You were there for a while.” He asked, visibly worried for you.

“Yeah, there were just a few girls before me.” You lied. “Let’s go?”

He nodded and smiled.

“But first, do you want a snack or a drink?” He offered, already taking out his wallet.

“Wait, I'm paying.” You put your hand on his. “You paid for the restaurant yest-”

“Popcorn and a cold drink such as iced tea?” He asked, knowing exactly what you want.

Understanding that he would probably not give up and pay for your snacks, you simply nodded.

“Thank you again.”

“Wait for me here!” He said before running to the shop.

Seeing someone devoted to you made you happy and thankful.

“What could happen Y/N? It’s probably going to be a good date too.” You tried to reassure yourself, fixing your dress one last time.

“Y/N?”

You instinctively looked at the person next to you.

It took a few seconds to realize that the worst thing that could happen, was just there: Seonghwa.

You hated the way with simple eye contact, he made you doubt your entire existence.

Even if Seonghwa changed a bit during this last month, he was still this handsome man he used to be.

His hair was dyed in black and a bit curlier than before. He was probably working out a lot more because his figure was a tiny bit more massive.

The way his eyes were piercing and staring at your soul, gave you this warm feeling that only he can give you.

“Y/N?” He repeated.

You raised a brow to show him that he has your attention, but that you wouldn’t say anything.

“It’s been a while.”

The thought of shouting ‘you dumb or what’ or punching him right in the face, came to your mind for 2 seconds, but you decided to play it cool.

“Yeah.” You simply replied.

Seonghwa was taken aback because of these short and cold replies. You were the only one talkative among both of you.

“Hm… are we cool? Or?”

“Cool?” You repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

This situation was so strange to you that you pinched your hand discreetly, to be sure that you were not daydreaming or hallucinating.

“Y/N.” He called you once again.

You managed to keep your composure but hearing your name from his mouth made your knees weak a little bit more.

“Do you remember that we are not talking or seeing each other anymore?”

Seonghwa scratched the back of his head, searching for a possible excuse or explanation.

“You made it clear the last time we saw each other.” You continued. “So you don’t need to come and check after me as you care.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t Y/N me.”

“That’s your name?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah, then don’t call me.” You gulped, realizing how dumb this was.

“Y/- I mean… Can we just talk about what happened? I know what I said was bad.”

“Bad?”

“Yes.”

“I would say painful, cold, uncomfortable, hard, unpleasant-”

“Okay okay, I got it.” He stopped you.

“No, I think you didn’t.” You started, clenching your fist to not yell at him for everything he did to you. “You literally throw me like a toy. Okay, we knew our deal, just sex, but you could have been a little- NO. A LOT nicer when you rejected me.”

“I freaked out.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Can we talk about this later? I really want to see you again.”

That was one of the things you were redoubting.

After a month, the moment you finally start to turn the page and focus again on your happiness, Seonghwa comes back.

You hated yourself for already knowing that you would run to him without any effort.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You turned back and stared at Seungyeon. He looked so cute with these 2 big packs of popcorn and the drinks hanging between his fingers.

“Ah, you there.” You smiled.

Seonghwa stared at both of you, trying to know the exact situation or relationship you had with this man.

“Hello. I’m Seungyeon.” He politely bowed.

Your ex-friend and benefits didn’t even blink. He stayed there, only staring at him.

“Well… we should go. The movie is about to start soon.” You grabbed Seungyeon by the arm, making sure to help him with the drinks.

“And what about my request?” Asked Seonghwa, before you could leave.

You sighed. He wouldn’t give up so easily. He would even sit next to you during the movie for sure.

“Can you take our seats? I need to talk to him for a minute.” You simply explained, embarrassed that this situation happens during your date.

“Sure, text me if you have a problem.”

You understand well that he was bothered by you staying with a man that clearly has his effect on you. But for the sake of this date, you needed to make things clear with Seonghwa.

When Seungyeon disappeared from your eyesight, you confronted him.

“What’s your problem?”

“And who’s this guy?”

“And why are you asking as you care about who I’m dating?” You crossed your arms on your chest.

“Because you are mine.” He sighed in frustration.

“What the hell Park Seonghwa.”

“I’m the only one who is supposed to touch you.” He added.

You rolled your eyes at this comment. Of course, he was only thinking about sex.

“Well sorry, but other people don't see me as a vulgar piece of meat like you do.” You started. “Seungyeon is curious about how my day went and not about which position we are doing at night.”

“Do you sleep with him?” He stepped closer to you.

“This is none of your business.”

Seonghwa was frustrated. He ran his hand in his hair and growled something that you didn’t understand.

“So, for your request. It’s no. You told me that I’ve shouldn’t f-”

“Does he satisfy you well?”

You blink twice at this sudden question.

“I told you it’s n-”

“Does he fuck you better than me?”

He was stepping closer to you at every question. Your heart raced and your lips went dry in a second.

“Does he make these things that you love the most in bed?”

“You are being inappropriate.”

“I bet you never told him your little secrets. Like how you like to be choked. Did you tell him?”

The proximity, his perfume, or just his presence made you get a tone of flashbacks.

These times you met, how he treated you well or how he completely made you forget your own name.

“You are mine. And I don’t want anybody to touch you.” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours.

This contact made you close your eyes so you could enjoy his presence once again.

“Just ditch him…”

You shook your head, “I can’t. He’s nice to me.”

“And I am too.” He kissed your cheek.

“He’s giving me what I want.” You gently rested your palm on his torso, trying to push him a bit.

“I can give it to you too.” He slowly went to kiss your neck, your weak spot. “All night long.”

His offer was interesting, of course. But you remembered that after this “night” he wouldn’t text you or ask how your day went as Seungyeon does.

"No." You pushed him stronger this time and stepped back. “I don’t want to be a friend with benefits anymore. I just want to be a girlfriend.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought it would explode the next minute. Maybe it would be the time where Seonghwa would change the status of your relationship or simply disappear as he usually does.

“I just want to be special to someone and not only because I slept with them.” You added, not liking the silence that settled.

“If you want me to be yours and not only in your bed at night then say it now. Otherwise, there’s a movie which is waiting for me.”

His lips parted for a second then closed right after.

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

You pushed his hand away from your forearm.

“Excuse me, but I have a movie to see.”

You exchanged one last stare together, then you left to join Seungyeon.

The more you walked away from him, the more you felt your heart clenching in your chest.

When the door closed behind you, you brushed off the tear which was sliding on your cheek.

“Ah you there,” smiled Seungyeon when he saw you.

“Yeah sorry. Did I miss something?”

“Nop, only ads.”

“Good.” You sat down, blinking a few times to suppress the tears.

“Are you okay?” He asked, still worried for you.

You nodded, biting your tongue.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You whispered, taking a deep breath to forget this conversation.

When the room dimmed in the dark, you remembered that your phone wasn’t mute.

Just when you were about to turn it off, you received a text from Seonghwa.

[“Let’s finish our conversation.”]

You noticed that he didn’t write “tonight” like he usually does.

“It’s starting.” Whispered Seungyeon, when he saw you still on your phone.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You apologized for not being focused.

[“K.] You replied before turning it off.

You felt bad for agreeing to meet Seonghwa while you were sitting next to someone who probably likes you.

“What I am doing...” you whispered to yourself.

[bucksfucks]

           amorosa // steve rogers

         chapter two: seal the deal

    chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

                    chapter four // chapter five

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

summary || after setting up a date with steve you fight back the urge to bail on account of your nerves. an agreement is reached and despite all odds, steve makes you feel relaxed and calm before you’re welcoming him back to your apartment after the night is almost over.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 3,111 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, heavy daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

     You didn't know what to expect. You had never done something like this before. 

     As you rummaged through your closet, groaning at the struggle of finding something decent for tonight. You didn't own anything that would match what Steve was wearing, you barely had time to go out as it is.

    Not to mention your financial situation didn't exactly let you splurge on the finer things in life, your phone screen had been cracked for over half a year. You'd been meaning to get it fixed, but you could never justify dropping more than a hundred dollars on something that still technically worked. 

    Your mind flashed back to when Steve dropped the hundred on the bar like it was nothing. Suddenly you felt self-conscious, knowing you weren't nearly good enough to be going out with a man like Steve Rogers, Vice President of Stark Industries. 

    Professional or not, people would be talking and giving you odd glances. 

    You settled on a comfortable, sleek pair of straight cut pants and a simple blouse. Steve had decided on a steakhouse, a steakhouse of all places for a single drink as he put it last night. Another groan as you slipped on the uncomfortable and only pair of heels you owned. 

    A simple black open-toed shoe matched your outfit enough before you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. 

    The Uber would be here soon enough and while spending thirty dollars on a car ride to a place you'd have to try not to stick out like a sore thumb, the subway in heels just wasn't an option. 

    The entire ride there your leg couldn't stop bouncing, no matter how much you willed yourself to calm down, nothing seemed to help as you left the modest looking part of the city only to enter into an entirely different world. 

    Luxury brand stores lined the streets, expensive cars parked at their side as your stomach flipped at some of the sights. 

    You didn't fit in here, you were sure your driver was just as confused as you as they kept driving deeper into the city. 

    "Have a good night," he bid you as you thanked him, shutting the car door and letting the late summer breeze billow around you as you looked up at the restaurant in front of you. 

    Bluefin read in a fluorescent blue light as you shook your head, laughing at the ridiculous situation you were in. You pulled at the door, it was heavy and tall before a hostess prompted you. 

    "Do you have a reservation with us, miss?" She asked, eying you up and down as if she knew that you were a fraud, like you didn't belong; and she wasn't wrong. 

    "I uh, have one with Mr. Rogers." You stumbled over your words trying to sound as confident as possible. She nodded her head politely, asking you to follow her before she swiftly turned to lead you through the maze of tables. 

    You took in your surroundings, the dozens of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the gold plated booths and shimmering table legs. It was safe to say that this place was way out of your comfort zone. 

    "Mr. Rogers, your guest for the evening," she spoke sweetly, throwing you a small smile as Steve got up to greet you. He placed a kiss on each of your cheeks, the action causing your body to flush as his beard grazed your skin. 

    He smelled exactly like he did last night, though this time it wasn't as subtle. He smelled fresh and clean and you could get lost in those same dashing blue eyes again.

    "I'm glad to see you again." Steve smiles, helping you into the booth before sliding in beside you. It was a very intimate space, his shoulder pressed against your as you placed your purse beside you. 

    Two menus were already placed in front of you, two glasses of water alongside a pitcher in the middle as you fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Could he tell how nervous you were? 

    "It's nice to see you too," you managed to finally spit out as Steve smiled sweetly, he turned his body slightly so he was facing you, "this place has great seafood, I really recommend the crab cakes." 

    Your eyes lit up at the word food, you had been so nervous that it had barely crossed your mind. A waiter soon approached the table, "can I get you guys anything to drink?" 

    You felt like it should be you serving Steve, instead you just shook your head, "I'm okay with just water." You answered truthfully before Steve smirked. 

    "We'll take a bottle of champagne for the table, preferably rosé from 2012." It sounded like he was speaking an entirely different language. To you, wine was wine, if it got you drunk, it was good. 

    The waiter nodded his head, turning around to leave you both alone. You took a sip of your water when you noticed just how dry your throat was. Steve opened his menu and you followed suit before your eyes ran down the various dishes. 

     Everything sounded good and you heard your stomach grumble at the thought of the crab cakes and maybe even the butternut squash ravioli. Then your eyes ran to the prices, your heart palpated at the thought of them. 

    "Dinner's on me tonight, get whatever you'd like." It's like Steve had heard your internal monologue and decided to put an end to it. You were thankful for that, a wave of relief washing over you as his soft features made you feel safe. 

    "Thank you, really. I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere nearly this fancy," you joked, hoping the humour would absolve you of your awkwardness. Steve chuckled, low and deep as the waiter came with the champagne. 

    It was popped then poured into the flutes and placed in ice before Steve picked his up. 

    "To new beginnings," he spoke. You picked up yours, "to new beginnings," you repeated his words, gently clinking the two glasses together before taking a sip. 

    You had never been a fan of champagne, but this one wasn't too dry nor was it too sweet. It was light and fruity and soon enough you knew it would be enough to quell the nerves. 

    When the food arrived at the table, the conversation seemed to flow much more naturally. Steve didn't say much, asking a question and letting you answer as he got to know you. You found yourself sneaking subtle glances in his direction, admiring his side profile or just how close he was to you. 

    As the bottle of champagne was nearly empty, you felt much lighter as giggles fell past your lips. You had leaned into Steve a little more as the night progressed, his large hand falling to your thigh. 

    "So," the faint echo of your giggle was still heard as Steve's expression turned to a much more serious one. "I think we should discuss our… business opportunity." And just like that, you had sobered up. 

    You nodded your head as Steve cleared his throat. 

    "I'd like for you to join me for things like these. Dinner, company events, fundraisers, yearly ski trips to the alps, you know, the boring stuff." You nearly guffawed at his words. The boring stuff? A trip to the alps? Boring? You could barely believe it. 

    Still, you nodded your head, a silent sign for him to continue. 

    "In return, I'll take care of all your bills and expenses. You'll have plenty of petty cash, we'll call it," he smirked. "All I ask is for your company." He concludes and you swallow, taking it all in. 

    "When you say company, do you mean… " You trailed off, not sure how to delicately ask him if he wanted to fuck you or not. 

    Steve leaned in, his face inches from yours as he squeezed your thigh, "that's exactly what I mean, Princess." 

    The pet-name caused your stomach to somersault as your breath got hitched in your throat. You're not sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or if this was just the effect he had on people. 

    Probably a mix of both. 

    Whatever it was, it caused you to wring your hands in his collar as you crashed your lips onto his. He didn't hesitate, not even for a second as his hands went to cup your face. The kiss left you breathless, spinning, and feeling like you were floating. 

    "Is that a yes?" He asks cheekily and you can't find the words, all you can do is nod your head before Steve is forced to drop your face as the waiter brings him the check. 

    You readjust yourself in your seat, one leg on top of the other as you close your eyes to steady your breathing. 

    Steve grabbed his leather wallet, pulling out a flashy black credit card and handing it to the poor man doing his job without any regard. You bit your lip at the interaction, someone with his money and power, it made the throbbing between your legs only worse. 

    "Let me drive you home." Steve whispered meeting your eyes as you nodded, "oh it's okay, I can just take the train back." You said politely and while you didn't want to, you sure as hell couldn't afford another Uber trip. 

    It's not like you didn't want to take him up on his offer either, truthfully, you weren't sure how you were going to react all alone with Steve. 

    You don't fuck on the first date, but for Steve, hell you'd let him take you in the bathroom of this restaurant. God knows it's probably better maintained than your building. 

    "Please? I don't want you alone on the train at this hour, you'd have me worrying all night and I don't think you'd wanna upset me like that." There was a sultry undertone in his words as his lips twitched into a smirk. 

    You nodded your head, "yes, okay, thank you Steve." 

    When you stepped into the now cool late night summer air a shiver ran down your spine as the valet went to grab Steve's car. You stayed silent, kicking a pebble with your toe as you tried your best not to shiver. 

    You felt Steve drape his suit jacket over your shoulders, "chilly night, huh?" He joked, as you hugged it around yourself. This man was full of secrets, secrets you wanted to learn to lock away in your own mind. 

    "Here you are Mr. Rogers, have a great night." The valet said, acknowledging you both as he opened the passenger side door for you. You slipped into the warm car, an Audi, you recognized the four rings on the steering wheel as Steve got in. 

    The car was quiet, city nose becoming nonexistent as he put it in drive. 

    "Where am I going?" He asked, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot and into the bustling New York City streets. 

    "Queens," you said, admiring the lights outside of your window as Steve chuckled, "no way, I grew up in Brooklyn." Steve commented as you turned your head. 

    That surprised you. A guy like him? From Brooklyn? You guess you should've known by his subtle accent, but it made you smile as Steve continued his way to your apartment. 

    "Well, uh, thank you for dinner, Steve. Really, it was the best food of my life." You chuckled as he returned your smile. "It was my pleasure, you're good company." He joked, squeezing your thigh as a new wave of arousal running through you. 

    You both sat in somewhat awkward silence as you grabbed your keys from your bag, clutching them in your hand. 

    "Do you maybe wanna come up for a cup of coffee? Or tea? I don't really have much to offer." You chuckled, as he smiled, “that sounds lovely." 

    Steve followed you to the front of your building, the old, paint chipped door creaking open before you pressed the elevator button that only illuminated on good days. 

    Today was not that day. 

    You tapped your foot as you watched the numbers descent until the L appeared on the small screen, the bell dinging. You got into it silently, the only sound was your heels against the stained flooring and the electrical whirring of the elevator. 

    Steve kept a respectable distance, his shoulder brushing yours as the elevator car moved up to the eleventh floor. 

    You stuck your key into your lock, jamming it upwards as you fiddled to find the sweet spot before you managed to push the door open, "home sweet home." 

    The apartment was small, a little over five-hundred square feet, but it was more than enough for you. You decorated it with plants and art you'd find at your local markets. It felt cozy and like home, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Steve was used to. 

    You didn't bother turning on any of the main lights, a small light in the kitchen was all you needed as you were finally able to kick off your heels. You dropped to your true height, having to crane your neck upwards to meet Steve's eyes. 

    It was in this moment that you realized just how massive he was. Broad shoulders and long legs held him upright as his now darkened eyes looked you up and down. You had forgotten all about the coffee as you felt his gaze all over you. 

    "You look stunning," he whispered, stepping closer to you. "Words just don’t do justice." He added, snaking an arm around your waist. 

    "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me." He breathed, mouth close to your ear as you gasped, nodding your head. 

    "Oh, Steve, please." You whimpered, your hands going to rest on his shoulders as he pulled you flush against his body. You could feel him hardening through his dress pants, pressed tightly against your hip. 

    "Call me Daddy tonight, Princess." Steve purred as your stomach flipped before his lips were back on yours. He tasted like the remnants of the champagne as his tongue explored your mouth. 

    "Daddy," you gasped, his lips working his way down your neck as he pushed you further into your apartment. You yelped when he tossed you onto the bed, the moonlight streaming through your curtains and onto the sheets. 

    "That's my good girl, you're bein' so good for Daddy." His praise sends goosebumps over your skin as his fingers begin working on your blouse. You can sense the urgency in his actions, both of your hands having one goal in mind; remove any and all clothing. 

    You barely have any time to stop and admire Steve's build. He's toned, lean and fit and you already love the faint chest hair as he works on your bra. It's discarded soon after, your panties being yanked off before Steve's standing naked in front of you. 

    "Fuck," it's a breath that falls from Steve's lips as he's right back on top of you. His nose traces down your chest, his mouth paying equal attention to both of your nipples before his mouth is floating above where you need him most. 

    Neatly decorated hair covers your mound as Steve places your legs over his large shoulders, spreading you open in front of him as he lets out a low groan. 

    "Princess, you're so wet. Is this all for me? Is this why you've been so squirmy during dinner?" He smirks, his question rhetorical as he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. 

    Your hips are bucking, fists around your sheets as you whine. Steve's tongue is wide and warm against you when it finally connects with you. A lewd moan slips past your lips when he swirls it tightly around your clit. 

    The attention to detail is mind blowing, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you as he works you open. There's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than right here with Steve's face buried between your thighs. 

    "You taste so sweet, Princess." He hums, moaning around you as your fingers tangle in his once neatly styled hair. You tug on the locks, a low groan in response that spreads warmth through your body. 

    "Daddy, pl-please, wanna cum." You're lost in the sensation of his fingers scissoring you open, his tongue flicking tight figure-eights over your clit. 

    "Cum for Daddy, Princess, cum all over my face." He growls, curling his fingers deep inside of you, breaking the coil as your back arches off the bed. 

    You feel like you've just ran a marathon, lungs aching for oxygen, and he hadn't even gotten his cock yet. 

    "Hands and knees, Princess. Show Daddy your ass," he growls, flipping you over as you prop yourself up on shaky knees. You're mewling, wanton and burning to feel how his cock will fill you up. 

    The bed shifts under Steve’s weight as his fingers dig lightly into the flesh of your waist, positioning your hips as his cock nudges your entrance. 

    “You think you’re ready for my cock, Princess?” He taunts as you wiggle your hips against him as he chuckles deeply from within his chest before slowly sinking into you. 

    You both moan at the sensation, your warm walls gripping around him as he stretches you out. 

    “Takin’ Daddy’s cock so well Princess—fuck, feels so good.” Steve grunts, his hips snapping against yours with a force that has you falling face first into the pillows. 

    His one hand goes to rest between your shoulder blades, keeping you planted firmly against the bed as he fucks you deep into your worn out mattress. 

    Your moans are muffled, you're thankful for the position considering your walls are paper thin and you'd rather not have your eighty-five year old neighbour Darleen hear about the mind-blowing sex you were currently engaged in. 

    "You gonna cum for Daddy again? Make a mess over his cock, hmm?" He whispers in your ear, voice hoarse and gravelly as your toes curl and you're cumming again for him. 

    Steve pulls out, fisting his cock in his hands before you're feeling his hot cum painting your back as you're reeling at the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

    You're pulled out of your post-orgasmic bliss when you feel Steve cleaning you up with what? You don't care, you'd do laundry tomorrow, throw it away, all you wanted was to feel Steve's arms around you. 

    He falls back into bed with you, his gentle eyes meeting yours as he chuckles, "if that doesn't seal the deal, I don't know what will."

tagging // @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

[ghostietea]

Furuba autistic headcanons

With it being April, or autism acceptance month, I wanted to finally drop my list of characters from Fruits Basket that I read as autistic! This is based a lot on my own experience, as well as that of other autistics I know or have seen talk online. I hope some people can get something out of it, feel free to tell me what you think 😊, though please refrain from getting upset that I would dare suggest your fave is autistic.

Hanajima

Before becoming able to better control her powers, she would be constantly overwhelmed by the things she heard to the point that she couldn't even really go out in public. This reads a lot like sensory overload.

Constantly picked on in school because other kids thought she was weird. Eventually reclaimed this weirdness and turned it into a whole persona.

Seems to talk usually in a relatively flat tone.

Had trouble socializing with no friends outside her family until middleschool.

Has a very funny, dry sense of humor that I find very similar to a bunch of autistics I know, including myself.

Hatsuharu

Listen. You have seen the funky little man, you have seen the way he talks, the way he acts around others. He is, and I mean this in the best way, a weirdo. I do not know how you could look at him and see a neurotypical.

Once again, like Hana, Haru is funny in a way that feels very autistic.

Very flat, dry, tone delivery. Sometimes just Says Things that make everyone else go huh??? Suuuuper blunt. Doesn't emote facially a lot of the time.

When this man sees a social norm he doesn't get he WILL NOT follow it. Pierces his ears just because his hair got flak, defends Momiji wearing whatever he wants because sometimes y'know the social rules are just dumb and don't make sense. Especially dress codes.

Sometimes says things not befitting the current tone of the situation.

Represses (masks) a lot of his emotions, leading to outbursts that seem uncharacteristic.

His main childhood trauma revolves around adults branding him as "dumb" and ridiculing him. Haru, however, is super smart and wise!! Just in an offbeat way that not everyone may get.

Machi

Reads as very "flat" emotionally to the point that others would call her boring. Also has a flat vocal delivery.

Relies on specific habits or ways of doing things or else she gets super upset (her hatred of imperfection.

Has trauma surrounding adults completely misconstruing her intentions and thinking she's doing something malicious when she's not.

Generally behaves in a way that's hard for others to understand, one of her formative moments with Yuki was him saying he wanted to "see how the world looks" through her eyes.

Once again, trouble socializing.

Tries super hard to please her parents but in the end they still see her as somehow inherently "defective."

Listen. A lot of this one and the last two are mostly vibes, hard to verbally define. You just have to look at them and trust me.

Tohru

Displays behavior very reminiscent of masking throughout the story, a huge part of her arc is about how she hides a lot of herself and has a very controlled persona. I think it would fit very well if she had other autistic behaviors that she suppresed also it helps explain why she is relatively socially adept, it's learned behavior to make people like her more.

Yes she is very good at saying what others need to hear, but especially early on she is pretty blatantly imitating her mother's words. She only gets better at getting through on a more personal level later on (see her with Rin and Akito v. early series Tohru). She does this by relating her own experiences, a very autistic way of showing empathy that often gets us written off as self centered. The way she relays things her mom said could also be seen as this, and she even worries at a few points that she's being insensitive for going on about things like that.

While emotionally repressed she is hyper empathetic and feels other's emotions so strongly she cries.

Her speech patterns are all imitated from her father and she often copies verbal things from others (see Ritchan-san). Noted in canon that people think her way of speaking is slightly off/not befitting of someone her age. Additionally, her father was polite more sarcastically, while she plays it straight and sometimes takes things very literally or fails to get the message, indicating trouble with reading tone. Has numerous strange verbal tics, including saying parts of her internal monologue out loud without context.

Very expressive with her hands including waving them around and flapping them up and down.

Does have a bit of trouble with accidental insensitivity in social interactions, like how she constantly fixates on her mom and realizes that might bug the Sohma.

Has trouble paying attention in school since it doesn't have much to do with her interests

Her only friend until she was a middle schooler was her mom

Has a pretty unique outlook on things compared to others, people seem to think she's pretty eccentric. There's always a "this girl is nice but in an odd way, she's our weirdo and we love her" vibe.

Sometimes has an "inappropriate" emotional response to situations

Has a lot of trouble with change, similar to Akito. Which oh, look at the time, next hc coming up.

But first, a disclaimer. It is cathartic for me to read Akito this way, but with that reading comes the baggage that she would, mayhaps, be showing a more negative side of things... It doesn't bother me since it's a joint hc with other characters and she does develop at the end but yeah, general villain hc baggage. This is in no way me trying to excuse her being The Worst being autistic doesn't absolve you of being able to do wrong . Also, a lot of these points can and do have other explanations related to her upbringing, but things can be for more than 1 reason. With that said, she really strongly comes off as autistic to me, in a way that's sorta hard to explain. I wrote a lot more for her than the other, both because I felt I needed more to convince people and that this headcanon was more sensitive and I needed to be careful in my explanation. Also hey! She's my special interest within a special interest.

Akito

Shown to have a dislike of summer weather due to heat and brightness, could be due to sensory issues in tandem with sickness things. Also covers her ears when people raise their voice sometimes which is partially her trying to shut down opposition but also 🤔 can read a different way. She'd also avoids louder Juuni like Ritsu and Ayame because she can't handle them.

Wears pretty much the same outfit every single day. Said outfit is also pretty loose fitting.

Always seen sitting in a pretty unconventional way. Evidence:

Of course this is also the isolated in a cult thing and there is a level of her purposefully doing things to intimidate but: doesn't follow a lot of social rules (overly touchy with strangers, legit doesn't get that what she's doing is wrong, ect.). Repeatedly confused when people indicate she should act otherwise without explanation. Has a breakdown when this comes to a head and approximately says that "they" shouldn't expect her to know "common sense" if "they" never explained it to her, that the way that she was was her "common sense."

Often talks in a way uncharacteristic of her age when shown as a child in a more faux mature/pretentious way. Might just be the translation and idk how to explain it but her speech as an adult also seems off from what one would normally use in conversation. Additionally, when she tries to fake being friendly in her intro chapter, it comes of as extremely stiff and unconvincing.

Generally displays behavior that could be thought of as childish as an adult, but a lot of this behavior could also read as autistic (covering ears, emotional deregulation and meltdowns, ignorance of basic social norms, ect.). It's also important to note that she knows that this behavior makes her seem younger and more helpless to the older zodiac and uses it as a manipulation tactic. Has issues regarding people treating her like a child or only hanging out with her because of pity. While she does weaponize it, we can tell that this grates on her, as seen with her finally blowing up on Kureno, which is partially triggered by the maids saying some sorta infantalizing stuff about her. Irl, a lot of autistic adults and teens struggle with being infantalized for our behavior generally or treated as little babies that can do no wrong. Even in fandom, you see people doing stuff like jumping to call autistic adult characters, such as Entrapta from Shera, "minor coded." It is also common for us to have at least one bad experience with someone hanging around us out of pity. This is something that really gave me a similar feeling in Akito's arc. She's not a baby and she can understand and do better if she is given the chance to learn and break from all the freaky cult indoctrination she's been subjected to instead of just being constantly enabled. In the end, a lot of her growth is represented by her showing that she is capable of changing and being independent.

Shows particular difficulty with socialization, often sits by herself spacing out at social events. A lot of her fear is rooted in the fact that she doesn't know how normal relationships work, becoming overly reliant on the curse because she doesn't know how to make friends.

Clings desperately onto the notion of being "special" and in some way superior to others to be worthy and to make up for perceived inherent "flaws." It's the nd gifted kid burnout vibes for me.

Easily bothered by things that don't bother others. Feels emotions very strongly to the point of getting physically ill and has bad emotional regulation.

Relatively good at reading others in an analytical sense (though has more trouble when it comes to seeing how they feel about her since she's wildly delusional) but brings up her observations in a very cold, detached way and hurts people even on the rare occasion she didn't mean to. Has extreme trouble connecting to others and understanding their point of view. This makes her come off as pretty unempathetic even though that might not fully be the case. Also thinks that people like Momiji are trying to look down on her when they try to empathize with her. A lot of why Tohru can get through to her is that she manages to convince Akito that she's not condescending by relating shared traits and experiences. As I said earlier, autistics often empathize by sharing their own experiences with someone, and I know I often have an easier time confiding in other autistics because of a fear of being seen as lesser by those that don't understand me. I think the connection between these charachters and the way that Tohru manages to reach Akito like that while others couldn't makes a lot of sense through an autistic lense!

Additionally, when Akito herself gets around to trying to help others instead of just projecting trauma, she tries to reach out to the old maid by relating back to her own experiences. This however, doesn't work.

Has "cold" emotional reactions sometimes even to things that do make her upset. For example, how sort of calm and detached she acted after her father's death can make her seem uncaring. However, we know that this event did mess her up a lot and she is still (poorly) dealing with a lot of grief from the death of her father years later.

Copies mannerisms from others, the most blatant example is with Ren, who she directly parrots lines from as a child to Yuki.

Partly just her posturing, but gestures a lot with her hands when she talks. Also seen several times clutching her hands in her hair.

Deals extremely poorly with the idea of things changing to the point that it is a driving force of the story.

Does not understand when people tease her.

Ect. Ect. Ect. Listen, I could go on for ages but just trust me, the mean gremlin lady is autistic.

[hawksugarbaby]

Tokoyami x reader- Big city, small pond

Fluff + Nature took back the earth AU combined with fantasy AU

You didn't take a breath before sinking back down from the side of the moss overrun pavement into the flooded road, deepened after many years of abrasion and sinkholes popping open intermittently. Deep enough for anything to swim in at least, though clementine traffic cone's still floated and drain covers for manholes had rusted and chipped away at the side. Litter still filled the bottom of the sinkhole but had all seemed to collect in the deep abysses. Metal benches were still bolted to the floor but had new river weeds and algae wrapped around each section of the skeleton but it was a wonderful place for anything to sit.

Your gills split open on your neck and you walked the depths of the "river" the reflection of miraculously working street signs for takeaways that greedy humans reopened over and over no matter how many times mother nature reclaimed the earth. Your finger's brushed the scales of an orange carp darting past you and you kicked your leg's out, turning them to an iridescent (f/c) fishtail, ending and transforming to human at the hips, your skirt clung to the tail under the water and your flowy t-shirt billowed out when you moved sharply, turning a corner or halting quickly to watch something.

Your tail kicked up rocks and dust which swirled in the water and settled at the bottom again as sediment. You scoffed at a human dropping a paper wrapper into the water that turned too much and landed on the floor, a few balls of red and white paper landing on your arm then tumbling off.

You popped your head up feeling a lily pad drooping down over your hair and covering your right eye. "Hey!" you shouted but the human was on his knees looking into the water in annoyance "Excuse me! I don't appreciate your wrapper dissolving in my river!" you shouted and he lifted his head, ruby eyes fluttered to you pulling the lily pad off your head, flopping it back onto the water where it drifted further away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop it, I was trying to find it now" he sighed in annoyance at the knowledge it was gone. He sat cross legged at the side and tilted his head looking at you. "Mermaid?" it was definitely supposed to be a question but it sounded more like a surprise than curiosity. You rolled your eyes and repeated his word in a mocking tone "oh mermaid? No. I'm not a mermaid, I'm a nymph obviously. How would you like it if i just assumed you were a crow!" you crossed your arms, your tail fins swishing back and forth impatiently. "I suppose I'd be most irritated" he scratched the back of his neck and hung his head.

You sighed swimming closer to the edge and rested your forearms on the kerb next to him. "It's whatever. Not like you city folk would know a difference anyway. Mother nature did all she could to reclaim the earth as hers and you still poison us with your plastic and oil and deforestation" you listed the minimum amount of things humans had done yet it was still enough for him to feel a guilty punch to the gut. "I'm sorry for what my species did to the earth" he spoke on behalf of a race that didn't care. The human race. But it was nice to hear an apology for once instead of someone claiming it wasn't their fault.

"My name is tokoyami fumikage" he held out his hand and you took it, the web's between your fingers stretching out slightly and you analyse him curiously "(y/n) macdonald." he nodded and smiled at you politely "You have a very nice tail" he said unsure how to continue your conversation, it wasn't like he could just ask you to get up and join him for a dinner and get to know you, though honestly he wasn't sure how nymphs worked, for all he know maybe you could? "Thank you. It's my favourite colour!" you grinned swishing it behind you and hopping on the edge on the path with all your strength.

You kicked your tail out and they transformed into legs dipping into the water and creating ripples around your calves and he stared amazed at your split appendages, skirt still hugging your thighs nicely and your t-shirt stuck to you like a puppy with abandonment issues.

"The difference by the way. This is the difference between mermaids and nymphs. Mermaids are usually really rude too" you explained, picking a string of riverweed from your leg and flinging it into the water to drift along the shore or sink to the bottom. He hummed in response since he couldn't agree or disagree, for now he would stay a neutral party unwilling to get on your bad side again. "I see. How did you end up here anyway aren't nymphs supposed to be out in like... rivers and lakes?" he queried and you sighed looking at the murky water sadly, missing the feel of your own river. "Uh, when mother nature decided to shift stuff around and the big tsunami flood thingy came it flooded my river and we all ended up somewhere different. Maybe it was on purpose but I ended up here" you swung your legs in the water tapping the stone ground with your fingers.

You missed the smell of earth surrounding your crystalline lake running off into smaller streams and your favourite river for finding pebbles in. you missed the fluffy flax seed that stuck to you when you were drying off in the long grass by the bank and that floated on top of the water for fish to pop up and suction down into their stomach. You missed your friends mostly, almost sisterly bonds between all of you now severed and spread across all of japan.

"I miss home really. For all I know my friends could be home waiting for me" you exhaled deeply and tokoyami sadly glanced at you wondering how far your legs could take you. "What if I helped you get home?" he asked and you jumped excitedly. "You would really help me! Don't you have school or friends or anything? Are you sure you can help?!" you blabbered for a minute or so about how inconvenient it would be and how you didn't know how far you would have to go until he stopped you. "My school is on break right now so I have about 2 months off before I need to go back. Most of my friends are going to look for a cause of the reclamation too since half our school is unusable since it started so I have no qualms helping you"

You jumped up and down giddy and dove back in the water splashing him with water that rolled off his feathers, soaking the choker on his neck and you apologised. "I'm just so excited to go home! Thank you so much!"

And so began your long journey to your home. You passed hundreds of abandoned buildings crumbling to nothing with vines twisted up the sides and supersized branches through the shattered windows, ivy had crawled up the walls of every structure you passed and you talked aimlessly along the way. "So mother nature is-" "a goddess inside the earth" tokoyami nodded at your explanation and looked around in understanding. One of her creations had destroyed the other, the necessary one, and she was proving that humans were expendable. "I'd be pissed too if my home was being filled with gross plastic." you giggled and smiled thankful that someone finally took you as sane, you were tired of truth seekers who didn't like the truth they gave them. They had too much blame on them so they went to find something else.

A month flew by quickly, you spent as much time swimming along streams that you could but of course not every path was filled with water, so it was a long journey for someone who wasn't used to walking barefoot on the actual ground for huge periods of time.

"What are your friends like?" Tokoyami asked, pushing a bish out the way for you to crouch through and you hummed, "caring. They care about a lot of things like climate change, obviously, but also silly stuff like um the best wood to carve you and your significant other's name in, or which leaves are the shiniest at golden hour. We have to make up fun little games or we'd just get bored" you smiled and he chuckled. They sounded similar to you, pointing out tiny details on your quest like spiderwebs covered in dew hidden in the grass, or perfectly round stone's that were shiny in the sun, it made sense you wanted to get back to them so badly.

The trees opened up to an empty circle of grass and a circle not much smaller of water, flowing over the sides of the bowl into the grass and streams wound along into their own segments of the forest. "Home... i'm home! I'm home i'm home i'm home!" you cried jumping up and down and sprinting into the gorgeous blue water and immediately your legs changed to your (f/c) tail, glowing in the sun as you floated on your back and soaked up the water. "Come in come in!!" you shouted while waving at tokoyami.

You had taken rest stops at old hotels and decrepit houses to check for water and of course food and sleep but there was enough civilization along the way to keep you going. But tokoyami hadn't had a bath, a real bath, one he didn't have to fill with a showerhead, in a month and god he wanted to relax desperately.

He peeled off his sticky t-shirt and hung it over a tree branch dipping into the water and relaxing immediately. "This is surprisingly warm" he muttered watching you splash around joyfully and sunk under the water. It was so clean he could keep his eyes open and watch you dip in and out of the water bouncing like a dolphin.

You swam over to him and he sat back up shaking the water out of his feathers and you smiled hugging him tightly "thank you for taking me here. I wish I could help you get back home but I don't think i'd make it back here myself. You sighed and he shook his head. "It's okay, I have other ways of getting home. I don't have to leave right now. I'll stay for another fortnight but then I probably have to go" he looked at his phone glad he had data and could contact hawks at the click of a button.

In 14 days that went by like rapids over rocks tokoyami had to say goodbye and hawks picked him up from your spot on the way back from a mission. 2 of your friends had also found their way home so you weren't lonely and tokoyami had promised to visit. "Okay and be safe home okay! I hope I see you soon!" you shouted as hawks lifted him into the air and he nodded in a silent agreement and waved.

"See you soon (y/n)!" he shouted back and you jumped in a wave as they disappeared into the bright blue sky reflected in your lake.

"Sooo..." one of your sisters sidled up next to you and you blushed "don't even! I know what you're going to say" you shoved her away and she laughed at you teasintly.

"Soo..." hawks started and tokoyami rolled his eye's "no hawks"

[hiptoff]

The beach case

Find chapter 7 in AO3.

Chapter 7

She was tremendously small, and, every time our arms accidentally collided while we washed and dried the dishes after eating, I had the feeling that I would push her against some wall, yet she only looked up and gave me the brightest of the smiles.

“Your cell is ringing.”

“Uh?”

“Your phone! Can't you hear it?!”

No, I hadn't heard it. My whole brain was being belonging to that smile for a while.

“Ah! I’m coming!”

I quickly dried my hands and ran to pick up my cell phone without even looking who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Kristoff! You've been slow! Did I catch you at a bad time?”

I didn't like a bit what the mischievous tone of her voice seemed to imply.

“Sam! No, I was just washing the dishes.”

Anna continued drying as if she hadn't heard anything, but it didn't go unnoticed how she slowed down as put all her senses into learning about the ongoing conversation. Inevitably, a silly grin crossed my face.

“What’s up? Is it a work issue?”

“Kinda. I'd like to have a little chat with you this afternoon. It's okay with you at four in my office?”

“I guess I can make an opening, yeah. Why? It is something serious?”

“I'll only say one thing: I've spoken with Cecilia.”

“What?! Why?!”

“You know she adores me as much as I adore her.”

“Hey, Sam…”

“Nope. I have no time right now. We'll talk later. Ciaooooo.”

‘Cecilia, I’m gonna kill you.’

“Everything okay?” Anna asked turning to me when she heard me drop the phone on the table with perhaps a little less care than recommended.

“I dunno. Sam’s talked to Cecilia and wants to talk to me this afternoon.”

Anna's face paled slightly.

“But… did you get to talk to her about whether all this is…?”

“Not yet.”

“I see…”

“Sorry. I don't know if I haven’t put you in trouble”.

“No! Nor in the least. If I have problems I will have looked for them myself. If I hadn't accepted, you wouldn't be here.”

“I'll try to make sure none of this affects you, okay?”

“Hey, whatever the consequences are, they'll be up to both of us.”

No matter how noble her words were, I wasn’t willing to risk her job for lodging. I preferred to sleep on the beach. But... if it was just a lodging matter… why did the idea of leaving make me feel a knot in my stomach? Anyway, there was no use thinking about it anymore. In the afternoon, I would discover the truth.

Somewhat uneasy about what was to come, I hurried to get ready for the meeting and arrived a little early. A time that, of course, I had to spend waiting at her door because Samantha is never free.

“Hey, boss. You don't look well,” Olaf said friendly clapping on my back with a smile that made me tense even more. “Were you sleep-deprived last night?”

‘I knew it. Maybe his lips are sealed, but, in the meantime, he is going to make sure to torture us as much as he can.’

“Do not worry, Olaf. I had an excellent night.”

Maybe I didn't choose the best words.

“I bet you did.”

A brief laugh later, Olaf continued on his way and Samantha's door opened to let out a woman who smiled politely at me and gave way.

“Hey, Sam. What is this all about?”

“Easy, blondie. Take a seat.”

I took a deep breath and sat down as I was told.

“I'm sorry. I didn't intend to speak to you like that.”

“So… are you in love?”

“What?”

“The redhead. Anna, right? Your sister has seen it quite clearly; she says that you have a huge crush on her; that you are her puppy.”

“Puppy?”

“Yeah, I don't know what correspondence to a story she wrote for the magazine.”

“Oh… so that was it.”

“So, you admit it?”

“I'm not in love, okay? She just… seems to me a very capable and intelligent woman, funny, attentive, sweet, weird to an unimaginable point, cheerful, optimistic… And gorgeous.”

“Wow… It is more serious than I thought.”

“It is not serious. It is nothing. There is nothing between us. She is only allowing me to live in her apartment while I find something else.”

“Are you looking for something else?”

“Uh… well… I've been really busy lately, you know.”

“Sure…”

So that's how things were, huh?

“Well,” she said taking a sip of the coffee that always kept her ongoing the whole day. “I suppose it is my duty to inform you that company policy does not prohibit extra-work relationships between colleagues of the same rank, buuuut…”

“But I am her superior.”

“Exactly. A relationship between superior and subordinate could lead to special treatment that cannot be consented to.”

“But I wouldn’t…!”

“I know. I know you. You are a great professional and you wouldn't get carried away that way. However, the rules are what they are.”

“Got it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Obviously, leave her house and get away from her. I'm not willing to make her lose her job: she loves it.”

“That's just what I wanted to hear.”

“Oh, yeah? Good for you.”

“Knowing that… I have no choice but to tell you that I really enjoyed talking with your little sister about the hot bricklayer that you have as a roommate. Too bad he's not a sweet young lady instead, don't you think?”

“Sam?”

“I can turn a blind eye, but be very careful with Yelena. She wouldn't let a beautiful love story jeopardize her magazine.”

“Sam, I…”

“And, now, get out of here! Don't you see I'm busy?”

“You are the best friend ever.”

I gave Samantha a quick hug and turned to the door, ready to leave her with her busy schedule.

“You know she likes you, don't you?”

“At least, I think she doesn't dislike me.”

“I knew it… You’ve always been sooo slow… Cecilia told me the face she had when she saw her and how she left hurt. You didn't even notice, did you? Little angel...”

“She… You think so?”

“Get out of my sight at once, moron!”

I dodged the paper ball that Sam threw straight at my face and left her office with a strange feeling of vulnerability and determination mixed within me.

By the time I got home that afternoon, Anna was on the couch in a huge hoodie, eating popcorn, and watching Wall-E. Hearing me come in, she paused the movie, looked at me with an uncertain smile, and patted the sofa inviting me to sit next to her. I obeyed and gave her a resigned smile.

“So I really am your pet, aren't I?”

“What? What was that?”

“It was nothing. I've already talked to Sam.”

“And?”

“As you well supposed, any extra-work relationship is prohibited between employees of different ranks.”

The popcorn that was waiting in her hand to be eaten, fell on the couch accompanied by a tear.

“Anna?”

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry! Don't worry about me! It's just that I got sensitive with the movie, you know?”

I nodded not wanting to uncover her poor lie.

“And… what do you plan to do, then?” she asked fixing those huge beautiful blue eyes into mine.

“Well…”

I stared into that look without quite believing what I was about to say.

“If…, and only if, you agree with that… I think the time has come for me to break some rule.”

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 5

(Y/n)'s POV

I have weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.

I must've woken up several times, but what I hear and see makes no sense, so I just pass out again. I remember lying in a soft bed and spoon-fed something that tasted like (Favorite/Food), only it's like pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovers over me, smirking as she scrapes drips off my chin with the spoon.

When she sees my eyes open, she asks, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

"What?" I manage to croak.

She looks around, as is afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," I slur, "I don't . . ."

Somebody knocks on the door, and the girl quickly fills my mouth with the pudding.

. . .

The next time I wake up, the girl is gone.

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stands in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He has blue eyes - at least a dozen of them - on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

When I come around for good, there is nothing weird about my surroundings, except they are nicer than I am used to. I am sitting in a deck chair next to Percy - who was looking at me with concern - on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smells like strawberries. There is a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that is great, but my mouth feels like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue is dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

On the table next to me is a tall drink. It looks like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol sticks through a maraschino cherry.

My hand is so weak I almost drop the glass once I get my fingers around it.

"Careful," says a voice.

Grover is leaning against the porch railing, looking as though he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradles a shoebox. He is wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops, and a bright orange t-shirt that says CAMP HALF-BLOOD.

"You two saved my life," Grover says. "I...well, the least I could do...I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Reverently, he places the shoebox in Percy's lap.

Inside is a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood.

It hadn't been a nightmare. My mother was gone.

"The Minotaur," Percy asks.

"Um, Percy, it isn't a good idea -" Grover gets cut off.

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" Percy demands. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifts uncomfortably. "You two have been out for two days. How much do you remember?"

"Mom," I say softly. "Is she really . . ."

Grover looks down.

I stare across the meadow. There is a grove of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley is surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, is the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looks beautiful in the sunlight.

My mother is gone . . .

Nothing should look beautiful. The whole world should be black and cold.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffs. "I'm a failure. I'm - I'm the worst satyr in the world." He groans, stomping his food so hard it comes off. I mean, the Converse hi-top comes off. The inside is filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole. "Oh, Styx!" he mumbles.

Thunder rolls across the clear sky.

Mom had really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

Percy and I are alone. Orphans. We would have to live with . . . Smelly Gabe? No. I'd live on the streets first.

Grover is still sniffling.

Percy says, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."

"Did our mother ask you to protect me?"

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least . . . I was."

"But why . . ." Percy begins and I suddenly feel dizzy, my vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover says. "Here."

He helps me hold my glass and puts the straw to my lips.

I recoil at the taste because I was expecting apple juice. It isn't that at all. It's chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. But not just any cookies - Mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. Drinking it, my whole body feels warm and good, full of energy. My grief doesn't go away, but I feel as if Mom had just brushed her hand lovingly against my cheek, given me a cookie the way she used to when I was upset and told me everything was going to be okay.

Before I know it, I'd drained the glass. I stare into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

"Was it good?" Grover asks.

I nod.

"What did it taste like?"

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I reply and Percy looks at me knowingly. "Mom's. Homemade."

He takes the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it's dynamite, and sets it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting.

3rd Person POV

The porch wraps all the way around the farmhouse.

Percy's legs feel wobbly, trying to walk that far, and (Y/n), though her legs feel like Jello, had moved to support her brother. Grover offers to carry the Minotaur horn, but Percy holds onto it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I'm not going to let it go.

As the trio comes around the opposite end of the house, (Y/n) catches her breath.

Percy's POV

We must be on the north shore of Long Island because on this side of the house, the valley marches all the way up to the water, which glitters about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply can't process everything I'm seeing. The landscape is dotted with buildings that look like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all look brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school–age kids and satyrs play volleyball. Canoes glide across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's are chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shoot targets at an archery range. Others ride horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I'm hallucinating, some of their horses have wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sit across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoonfed (Y/n) is leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me is small, but porky. He has a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it's almost poker. He looks like those painting of baby angles - cherubs. He looks like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He is wearing a tiger-patterned Hawaiian shirt, and he would fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I get the feeling that this guy could out-gamble even my step-father.

"That's Mr. D," Grover mutters to me and (Y/n). "He's the camp director. Be polite. That girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron . . . "

He points at the guy whose back is to me.

First, I realize he's sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognize the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, and the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" I cry.

The Latin teacher turns and smiles at me, then looks curiously at (Y/n), who is still supporting some of my weight. His eyes have that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulls a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.

"Ah, good, Percy," he says. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offers me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looks at me, then (Y/n), who is leaning against my chair, with bloodshot eyes, and heaves a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to the glad to see you."

"Percy, why don't you introduce me?" Mr. Burnner says, sending a soft smile towards (Y/n).

"Oh, this is my twin sister, (Y/n)," Percy says.

(Y/n)'s POV

I smile and wave shyly.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," I say. "Percy's told me a lot about you. Even said you were his favorite teacher."

A warmer smile spreads across Mr. Brunner's face and then he turns. "Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner calls to the blond girl.

She comes forward and Mr. Brunner introduces us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, (Y/n). Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy and (Y/n)'s bunks? We'll be putting them in Cabin Eleven for now."

"Sure, Chiron," Annabeth replies.

She's probably about my age, maybe an inch or two taller, and a whole more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she is almost exactly when I think a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruin the image. They are startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she's analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

She glances down at the Minotaur horn in Percy's hands then looks back up at me. She says, "You drool when you sleep." My cheeks take on a slight red tinge as she sprints off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

"So," Percy says, looking anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?"

"Not Mr. Brunner," not Mr. Brunner says. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay," Percy says, looking totally confused, then looking at the director. "And Mr. D . . . does that stand for something?"

Mr. D stops shuffling the cars. He looks at Percy like he'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I must say, Percy," Chiron - Brunner breaks in, "I'm glad to see you alive, and the chance to meet your sister. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?" I ask, interested.

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct Percy. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met him. He sensed he was something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to...ah, take a leave of absence."

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" Percy asks.

Chiron nods. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood, and then we learned of Miss (Y/n), here." He nods to me. "But you still had so much to learn, Percy. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"Grover," Mr. D says impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

Percy's POV

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembles as he takes the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyes me suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not," I answer.

"I'm afraid not, sir," he corrects.

"Sir," I repeat, liking the camp director less and less.

"Well," he tells me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules"

"I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron says.

"Please," I plead, "what is this place? What are we doing here? Mr. Brun— Chiron—why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

Mr. D snorts. "I asked the same question."

The camp director deals the cards; Grover flinches every time one lands in his pile.

Chiron smiles at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was, I was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Percy," Chiron prompts. "Did your mother tell you nothing?"

"She said . . ." (Y/n) begins and I remember her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told us she was afraid to send us here, even though our father had wanted her to. She said that once we were here, we probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep us close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D says. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?" I ask.

He explains, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron says. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient.

"Orientation film?" (Y/n) asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"No," Chiron decides. "Well, Percy, (Y/n). You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know -" he points to the horn in the shoebox - "that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either. What you may not know is that the great powers are at work. Gods - the forces you call the Greek gods - are very much alive."

I stare at the others around the table.

I wait for somebody to yell, Not! but all I get is Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackles as he tallies up his points.

"Mr. D," Grover asks timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bites a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chews it.

"Wait," I tell Chiron as (Y/n) sits down on the edge of my chair. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Well, now," Chiron says. "God—capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class.

"Zeus," I say. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.

"Young man," says Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around if I were you."

"But they're stories," I say. "They're—myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoff. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson"—I flinch when he says my real name, which I never told anybody—"what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continues. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals—they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

"Percy," Chiron says, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," (Y/n) says.

"Exactly," Chiron agrees. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you Perseus and (Y/n) Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how children can get over losing their mothers."

My heart pounds. He's trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I say, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmurs. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover pleads, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbles, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe!" He waves his hand and a goblet appears on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet fills itself with red wine.

"You're Dionysus," (Y/n) says and Mr. D looks at her. "The god of wine."

Mr. D nods then stares at me as I say, "You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

He turns to look at me straight on, and I see a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man is only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I see visions of grapevines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turn to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I know that if I push him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a straitjacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he says quietly.

"No. No, sir."

The fire dies a little; he turns back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron says. He sets down a straight, tallies the points, and says, "The game goes to me."

I think Mr. D is going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighs through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He gets up, and Grover rises, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D says. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beads with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners." He sweeps into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

"Will Grover be okay?" I ask Chiron.

Chiron nods, though he looks a little troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been . . . ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," I say. "You're telling me there is really a palace there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like...in America?"

"The what?"

"Western civilization?" (Y/n) guesses and Chiron nods for her to continue. "It started in Greece, then spread to Rome, right?"

"That's correct, Miss (Y/n)," Chiron says.

"And then they died?" I ask, looking between my Latin teacher and my sister.

"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course, they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not—and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either —America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"Who are you, Chiron? Who . . . who am I? Who . . . who are we?"

Chiron smiles. He shifts his weight as if he was going to get up out of his wheelchair, but I know that was impossible. He's paralyzed from the waist down.

"Who are you?" he muses. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

And then he does rise from his wheelchair. But there's something odd about the way he did it. His blanket falls away from his legs, but the legs don't move. His waist keeps getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I think he's was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he keeps rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realize that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair isn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg comes out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.

I stare at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

"You're a centaur!" (Y/n) says in awe, and Chiron's eyes sparkle with amusement as he nods.

"What a relief," the centaur says. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

Word Count: 3702 words

[the-villian-i-seem-to-be]

[Flower .3]

[2]

"Let's see... These should do nicely!" A young woman with red headed hair claps joyfully. The woman had dark red locks that curled at the tips of her hair. Her blue eyes showing excitement.

The female next to her nodded along with her friends antics. "You always have a knack for picking pretty flowers, Ms. Addington." "(Y/N)! I may about to be a married woman but I'm still your friend."

(Y/N) chuckles at the pouting girl. "I know, I know. But I still can't believe your getting married already. It seems like only yesterday you were a single woman with no thoughts on being hitched. Now look at yourself Rosette, your about to be wed and ready for a new life ahead."

The red headed woman could feel big fat tears falling down her cheeks. "(Y/N)!!!" Rosette wails loudly like a toddler. Running over and glomping the flower shop owner in a hug. With her tears staining her friends shirt in the process.

(Y/N)'s taken aback by the ssudden contact, regaining her composure she heaves out a sigh and pats the woman's back in comfort. "There, there. Dry your tears, it's alright." "No it's not. I used to be a simple middle class woman, now I'm going to marry a noble?! It's all so sudden, what if-"

(Y/N) pulls the woman away from the hug and holds her up right. "Now see here Rosette, don't second guess yourself. You met the man your betrothed too before. You keep chatting on and on about how lovely and kind he is. Have faith in yourself, hun."

"I do, but what if he never intended to marry me? My father only owns a few shops, my family has nothing to our names." (Y/N)'s eyes lower a bit, true her friend didn't have riches or power. But she didn't want her dear friend to despair, so the only thing she could was to feed her friend false hope that everything will be okay.

"Well-" "*ding!*" Once the chime of the bell was heard. Rosette quickly straightnes herself up and makes herself presentable. The shop door closes and a man steps in.

His green eyes immediately flicker to the pair of (e/c) orbs he wanted to see. "Ms. (Y/N), Madame." Albert James Moriarty tips his hat at the females then taking it off completely. "Hello Lord Moriarty." (Y/N) crusties in a polite greeting. Rosette follows her friends lead, stuttering a small hello.

"Anything I can help you with?" "Not at this particular moment, I'm just here to look around if that's alright." "It's not a problem, please go ahead." The noble nods, strolling around her little shop. (Y/N) continues her discussion with Rosette.

"Back to what I was saying, all I can do is give you this. You care for him, correct?" Rosette nods her head hurriedly, her curls bouncing up and down as her face turns warm. "Then, that's a start." Rosette stares at (Y/N) with uneasiness.

"But-" "You don't have to believe my words." The (h/c) haired female stated simply. "Yet you should at least try and let yourself decide on how you feel." (Y/N) said with evident wisdom to her words.

"I-I see.."

Rosette gratefully hugs (Y/N) once more. "Oh how I wish you would come to my wedding, truly I do!" Rosette mood seems to damper as she goes on. "But I don't think Earl Addington or my father would ever agree to my request.." (Y/N) could only give her a friend a sad smile.

"Don't worry about it, just visit my house after your honeymoon is over. We can talk over tea on how your wedding and honeymoon night went." The female responded with a rather teasing grin. Rosette turns flustered and her arms started to fly about like a bird. Chirping out barely eligible words.

(Y/N) happily laughs at Rosette's current state. Her loud melodious giggles bringing a smile to Albert's face. Rosette finally controlled herself and bids (Y/N) farewell. The (h/l) haired female almost had forgotten Lord Moriarty was in her shop if it weren't for the feeling of his eyes gaze at her back. 'How strange...'

"Is everything alright, Lord Moriarty?"

(Y/N) called out to him. Albert's eyes leave the sight of her and towards a pot of daisies. Turning to face the shop keeper with a confused smile. "Yes?" "Just checking in, you were as quiet as a mouse. I almost thought you left, but I guess I was mistaken."

(Y/N) said awkwardly, decideding to leave the conversation at that. But it seems Lord Moriarty didn't want it to end there. "It's quite alright, if I may say. I overheard you and the woman you were with talking about Earl Addington. Do you know of him?"

"I do not, personally. Rather, my friend Rosette does I believe." (Y/N) gave him a short answer, not wanting to talk about her friends personal affairs to Mr. Moriarty. Even if he was good natured fellow for a noble. Much better than the ones she's met before.

Albert drops the subject without any words needed to be spoken after. But he still wanted to converse with young woman. His ruby eyes catch sight of a humble little flower pot on her counter. Albert walks forward to get a closer look at it. "It's empty?"

(Y/N) throws a pitting glance at the pot. "I haven't found the right flowers to plant into it." Lord Moriarty gaze didn't waver as he studied it. Two small letters were carved into it, "R. A?"  (Y/N) could feel a cold needle strike her heart.

Gulping a bit of saliva down her dry throat. (Y/N) gives a small explanation. "Robin Anisley, he was the man that gifted it to me." "The two of you must of been close then." The once cheerful gleam Albert had known her for, was gone in a matter of seconds. Almost like he blew out a candlelight.

"We were, he was quite a entertaining fellow to be around. But we aren't close no longer." (Y/N) pauses as her (s/c) fingers trace the top of the flower pot. "He's dead." She responded bluntly. Before Albert could apologize for his unchecked words. (Y/N) placed a smilling mask on her lips.

(Y/N) turns her attention to the clock on the wall. "It's lunch time already!? I've completely forgotten!" She yelled with surprise, quickly turning to Albert she asks him if he would like to accompany her to lunch.

"There's a small restaurant near here, they have the best bread for sandwiches and soup. Would you like to join me?" If Albert James Moriarty was like any old stuck up noble, he would of declined her offer with a disgusted glare.

Instead, he gave her a closed eye smile and a small nod. "That would be lovely." The spark in (Y/N)'s eyes ingintes as she pulls off her apron and gloves. Patting her skirt down for any crumples, she moves away from the counter and walks ahead of Albert to the door.

The brunette didn't even notice how she was already at the door. Holding it open for him with a mock bow. Albert stared at her with uneasy eyes as he steps out of her shop. (Y/N) closed the door and takes out a key and locks the door. Putting her keys in her skirt pocket.

The two head off to the little restaurant that (Y/N) had recommended. They walk inside and the customers pay no mind to then at all. Clearly focused on their lunch or colleague they came with. (Y/N) and Albert choose a both and sit down. A younger woman with dark as night hair goes to their both to ask for their order.

"I'll have a (sandwich of choice) and a glass of water." The waitress nods and asks Albert for his orders. "I'll have what she's having." "Okay then, your order will be out in a few minutes." The waitress leaves seconds after.

(Y/N) smiles at Albert, who's back straightened up once she did. Lord Moriarty starts to converse with the flower shop owner. Asking her questions about her likes and interest. The female asked him some of her own, though he only answered a few. But the two did enjoy talking with one another.

When their food arrived they ate in silence. Listening to the loud chatter of the other patrons. "Can you believe this, just imagine being that crazy to steal from a noble. And in public no less?!"

"Your right, you must have guts if you did something like that!" "Whoever did this is either stupid or asking for a death wish!" Albert stares at the men with confusion before looking back to his food. A satisfied smile was on (Y/N)'s face as she chugged down her glass of water. Already finished with her meal.

The waitress comes over and asks if they're are ready to pay. Albert was about to say yes and pull out his wallet. But (Y/N) pulls out some money and pays for the food before he could. "Ms. (Y/N), you didn't have to pay for me. I could of paid for myself-!"

"It's quite alright."

"What? At least let me pay you back."

"It's alright, my lunch break is almost over." "Then at least let me escort you back to your shop." Albert starts to get out of his seat, but a lending hand was in front of his face. He looks up to see (Y/N) stretching a hand out towards him to take. He wanted to take her hand, honest to god did he want to.

But he could feel eyes burn the back of his skull. Judging him, staring at him with curiousity, waiting for his move. Lord Moriarty clenched his fists tightly, he gets up without her help. (Y/N) pays no mind to it, she pulls her hand back. 

The flower shop owner leads the way back as Albert slowly trailed after her. (Y/N) closes her eyes and hums a little tune. A nostalgic smile crossed her lips, with a day dreaming look on her face. Albert just watches her like a love stricken fool. "That's a very lovely song Ms. (Y/N)."

(Y/N) stops singing, "really? Why thank you, it's a song I remember way back when. Can't remember who sung it though." "I see. What a pity.." "Not really," (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders as she stops walking.

Lord Moriarty stood in place, confusion on his face. Turning herself around (Y/N) stares at Albert with a calm gaze. "It's merely a melody that will never will be known and will stay with me until the end of my days."

~°~

Lord Moriarty opens his house door and takes off his coat and hat. His younger brother Louis greets him once he enters. "Brother Albert, welcome back." Albert placed his hat the rack by there doorway. His eyes were clouded while his thoughts run ramped. Remembering his brothers greeting, he replies back.

"Ah, Hello Louis. Is William back yet from the college?"

Louis noticed right off the bat that his older brothers mind was elsewhere. "Is something wrong?" Louis questioned Albert, stopping his task of watering the plants immediately.

"No, I'm alright Louis. Just a little side tracked from today's earlier events." "Did something happen?" "Yes, I had a pleasant lunch with the woman who runs the flower shop down the way."

"Ms. (Y/N)?"

"Yes, she's doing quite well. She told me to say to hello to you and William. I can see why you and William are fond of her so. No wonder you visit her often when you go out for groceries." Albert chuckles lightly as Louis almost lost his footing at the mention of her name.

(Oof, I think the last installment will be part four. It will be a master piece of this so called series I hope. Thank you for reading!)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-One

Sorry it's late, I ended up accidentally drugging myself when I got in from work last. I had a migraine and my mom gave me one her of Amitriptyline and I didn't realize it was going to knock me the fuck out for 12 fucking hours. I woke up earlier today and was so confused, work clothes still on, makeup still on, but my migraine went away so I guess it worked.

I told you guys a cut a part out (I'm saving it for another chapter) part of it was the preview for this chapter with the flashback of when Nikki came home after Viv and Duff were being nasty in his bed...anyway enjoy the chapter!

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse

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"What?" I ask Fred, taking a few deep breaths and he raises his brows. 

"They just got here today, Viv, there's no way in hell that kid's biting the hand that's feeding him, over you, without there being a damn good reason." He states and I sigh, only causing him to nod his head. "That's what I thought. Does Sixx know?"

My eyes widen as I glare at him as if he's crazy. 

"Is Nikki acting like he knows?" I sarcastically say and Fred crosses his arms. "No." I add, deciding now is not the time for sarcasm. "No, Nikki doesn't know...I mean, we haven't been seeing each other, really. We've only hooked up one time." I try to reason.

"When?"

"When we went on break in September for a few days." I explain, fumbling with my fingers. 

"What, you got a hotel room or something?" He presses and I apparently give away what happened because his eyes are going to the size of saucers and he's raising his eyebrows. 

"Fred," I start.

"You fucked another man in Sixx's house?" He asks me in shock that I had the audacity to do such a thing. 

"He slept with Vanity in our house, so why not?" 

"Yes, because the way to put a fire out is to start a completely different fire!" He raises his voice. 

"Shh!" I put my hand over his mouth. "If anyone finds out about this, I'm done with, and so is Guns N' Roses." I hiss at him. 

"Highly doubt Duff's waking up after a night of plowing you like a field, thinking about his career, or else he wouldn't be sleeping with you in the first place." Fred says back quietly. "And you, what the fuck are you doing? Are you insane? If you get caught you're done for." 

"I know." 

"Then why're you letting it happen?" 

"I don't know, alright? I just…" I let out a breath and think for a moment. 

"Do you like, love him or something?"

"No, of course not." I insist. "Well, I love him, but not like in love with him." 

"Do you love Nikki?" 

"It doesn't matter if I do or not. We're over with once the tour is done." 

"You've both completely annihilated your vows, Vivian, I think it's safe to say you two have been over." He replies and I don't answer, ignoring that realization. 

I continued to ignore that realization until Nikki served me divorce papers once he got out of the hospital after he overdosed.

I try to hold back a laugh as Donna politely rejects Steven for the umpteenth time since he met her, and he pouts at me as she walks away.

“Viv, I’m going crazy.” He tells me. “I’m losing the charm, I think.”

“Oh, c’mon, Stevie, you aren’t losing the charm. Donna’s just a hard nut to crack because she and Emi have been put on a ‘don’t sleep with the opening band’ order.” I suggest and he maintains his let down facial expression. “And Emi and Mick are already a thing and catch hell for it, so Donna’s more than likely not wanting to be in the same predicament.”

“This is so unfair.” He crosses his arms.

“Just hook up with groupies.” I shrug.

“I’m trying but they’re all leftovers from what Tommy, Vince and Nikk--” He abruptly stops speaking and I raise my brows.

“What was that?” I ask him.

“Nothing…” He mumbles.

“I already thought Nikki was hooking up with groupies, but thank you for confirming it.”

“Well,” He starts, glancing around to make sure the coast is clear before he’s pointing out, “you’re hooking up with someone else, too, so does it matter?”

He’s got a valid point and I raise my brows, deciding I can’t argue with that.

“No.” I say quietly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

The guys are getting off stage soon enough, being brought back down from hyperventilation before starting in for tonight’s plans.

“Strip club.” Tommy and Vince say simultaneously.

“Stevie, you comin’ with?” Tommy offers  and Steven glances at me as if asking for permission although I honestly don’t care if he hangs out with them or not.

I’m just waiting for Duff to finish up his conversation with Axl and Izzy in their dressing room.

“Mick, you wanna come?” Tommy asks next, resulting in Mick glancing at Emi.

She shakes her head a little bit, barely noticeable. Barely.

Nikki lets out a shiteating laugh and I prepare for what’s about to happen.

“Nikki, lay off--”

“--Tommy, you shouldn’t have asked. You know Mick can’t take his mouth away from Emi’s teat long enough to make his own big boy decisions.” Vince and Tommy laugh at Nikki’s words, while Mick just lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at the ground not wanting to argue.

“Okay, Nikki, seriously, stop.” I state, glaring at him.

“Okay, Vivian, seriously, mind your own fucking business and stop being such a--”

“--Hey, everybody shut it.” Fred pops his head in, hearing an argument about to start. “Guns is riding back to the hotel with us, their ride has a flat.” He adds.

"Whoo!" Steven cheers, high-fiving Tommy.

I slip past Fred to see Axl and Duff waiting for us to get ready to go.

"Where's Slash?" I ask them, furrowing my brows a little. 

He's soon enough stumbling from the bathroom, wiping vomit from his mouth, causing me to wrinkle my nose as he mutters, "I'm right here." 

Slash was Nikki's trouble-buddy on the tour. They'd stay at the hotel bar until it closed nearly every night before hitting the town. Most of the time Tommy and Steven would tag along or split and go do something else of their own. 

Axl never really bonded with the guys as much as Izzy, Duff, Slash, and Stevie did, but everyone got along and considered each other good friends. 

Crazy how things would take a turn a couple years later.

We all wait patiently to file into the bus one by one and, of course, Vince and Tommy have girls with them while Nikki seems satisfied by just having a conversation with Slash and Izzy.

I catch myself looking for Tansy and Sparkie...until I remember they left to go score. 

All is well until Mick says something to Emi and she giggles like a school girl with a crush, and I can see Nikki's face getting red with anger as she's about to step ahead of Mick onto the bus. 

Nikki's plucking Slash's Jack bottle from his hand and pours the whiskey down Emi's jacket. 

She gasps, stopping in her tracks, horror on her face as she turns around to face him. 

"Nikki, what the hell is wrong with you?!" I demand. 

"Oops." Nikki slickly smirks, handing the now empty bottle back to Slash, who--like everyone else--is at a loss for words as Nikki cuts in line and gets on the bus before Emi can recover. 

I look at Duff, trying not to get overwhelmed with anger. 

He shrugs his jacket off, preparing to offer it to Emi so she doesn't have to wear her wet jacket. 

"Here, you can borrow mine." He tells her and she looks at him a second, tears in her eyes as Tommy, Vince, and their groupies walk around her to get inside. 

"Thanks." She mumbles, taking her wet jacket off and slipping on Duff's warm, dry one. 

"That wasn't cool." Steven mumbles about Nikki when we get on the bus, seeing him and Tommy laughing obnoxiously while Emi and Mick sit as far away as possible. 

I'm about to plop down beside Steven when I see Nikki whisper something to Tommy a couple seats ahead of us.

He smiles deviously at whatever Nikki just told him, before he's drinking a gulp of Jack and keeping it in his mouth, only to stand up, walk to the back seats, and spit it on Emi and Mick.

Nikki ruptures into sick laughter with Tommy, and I've had enough. 

I glance down at Steven's skull ring and take advantage of him not paying attention, to take it off of him, quickly. 

"Viv, what're you--"

I don't give him the time to finish his question before I've got the ring on, and I'm standing up as Tommy comes back by, punching him--his skin splitting where the heavy ring made contact.

I can tell he’s seeing red, I don’t help much when I sarcastically add, “oops.”

Everyone’s struggling to get as apart before he can slap me, Steven letting out a high-pitched scream when Tommy tries to bombard over him to get to me after Stevie pushes me on the other side of him.

Duff and Nikki get Tommy off of me and Steven, a trail of blood running down my friend’s cheek.

“Get her off my fucking bus!” Tommy demands at Fred once he comes back here to settle everyone off while Doc is behind the wheel.

“I wish someone would try to kick me off.” I threaten, knowing they wouldn’t get my ass off the bus without getting mauled first.

“Why the fuck can’t you take a fucking joke without being a fucking psychopath?!” Tommy asks me, yelling.

“You spitting a drink on them isn’t a fucking joke, just like Nikki pouring alcohol all over her isn’t a fucking joke!” I hiss back.

“If it bothered her, she would fucking speak up, Vivian, you’re not Jesus--stop trying to save everybody!” He sneers.

“She can’t speak up for herself because you assholes would try to fucking fire her!”

“And that’s none of your business if we did!”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up and calm do--”

“--I’m not calming down until you get that crazy bitch off this fucking bus.” Tommy interrupts Fred.

“Tommy, we’re not kicking her off the bus, now sit down!” Fred insists.

“You don’t have to kick me out, I’m gone.” I state, grabbing my purse, stepping over Steven’s legs to get in the aisle.

“Vivian, sit down!” Nikki orders me where he’s now standing, and I scoff in his face and shove past him.

“Vivian, please, don’t go anywhere.” Fred pleads, tired, and just wanting everyone to behave.

“I’d rather burn for an eternity than spend another minute on this bus with such sad, disgusting, strung out, drunk, bitter people!” I shout, walking to the door.

I hear several steps behind me, and I think it’s Nikki and Fred stomping after me, but I turn to see Axl, Izzy, Duff, and Steven following after me.

Slash is already passed out, oblivious to what’s been happening.

“K.” I say to Doc as he glances at me and sighs out. “Can you stop the bus and open this door?”

I thought we would get off that bus and walk to the hotel in peace, but turns out I left one fight and got into another one.

“You didn’t have to follow me, Axl, alright? I didn’t ask you to so there was no reason for you to come out here with me!” I tell him after he makes a comment about me getting them in trouble, possibly.

“No, I didn’t have to, but you’re my friend and I didn’t want you to be out here by yourself, even though you wouldn’t have to be if you would have just taken a breath and let it go instead of starting a fight, as usual!”

“We’re in Alabama, Axl! It’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped--nobody wants to fuck me down here because I’m not related to any of them!”

“Both of you are overreacting! Vivian, you shouldn’t have punched Tommy but I understand why you did! Axl, we’re not gonna get in trouble or kicked off the tour for making sure Nikki’s wife doesn’t get snatched up! Now, can we please go to the hotel so I can get ready and go out and get some chicks of my own because I’m tired of sloppy seconds!” Steven outbursts.

Me and Axl look at each other, knowing we’re arguing over something deeper than just him getting off the bus for me.

"Axl, this is not what it looks like, alright?” Duff camly says as we get covered up.

“Not what it looks like?! Do you think I’m fucking blind, Duff, what the fuck are you thinking?! Oh, wait, sorry, you’re not!” He explodes, his face bright red.

“Axl, can you please just let us explai--”

“--You shut up, Viv! I don’t wanna hear another damn thing from you because you just proved to me you could give a fuck about our band.” He points at me. “And what you--all of us--have busted our fucking balls for is about to be completely undone over some fucking pussy?! Are you fucking me right now?!” He says to Duff.

“It’s not just ‘some pussy’, Axl.” Duff states, getting defensive.

“I swear to fucking God, Duff, if you say ‘I love her’ I’m going to--”

“--I do love her.” Duff interrupts him, and Axl’s throwing one of his rings at the wall, causing it to hit a decorative painting, breaking the glass in the photo frame, causing me to jolt a little.

“Axl, c’mon, now it could be worse.” Izzy steps into the room, sitting down on the bed next to us, rubbing his forehead.

“Could be worse? These guys--her fucking husband, Nikki Sixx, yeah, you fucking remember him--are giving us a fucking shot on this tour. And the first fucking night in…” He trails off, at a loss for words, clenching his jaw and rubbing at his face.

“It wasn’t just tonight.” I start, waiting for Axl to look at me as Duff lets out a ragged breath, waiting for Axl to scream again. “It happened back in September, too.”

“You sound awfully proud of that, Viv, you really do. Cheating on Nikki--”

“--He cheated first, Axl. And then you all hid it from me.” I snap.

“I don’t care if you fucking cheat back, Vivian, but out of all the fucking people there is to get your revenge fuck in with, you choose somebody in our band--who’s friends with the band Nikki’s in. That’s what I don’t fucking like. But hey, if you wanna go down as the whore who wrecked Guns N’ Roses’ shot, then go ahead, but if we get kicked off this tour because of you, Nikki will be the least of your worries.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through, Axl, you don’t know the living hell I’ve been enduring for three years of my relationship, you don’t know.”

“That’s not my fault when you could’ve left him then. But you stayed and now you’re putting our necks at risk just so you can get your fucking rocks off.”

“He and I are getting divorced anyway so what the hell does it matter?”

“It’s my fucking band!” He insists. “It’s our fucking career, our fucking music, our fucking dream, all on the line over you! And if Nikki finds out, he’s not gonna be going through the technicalities of ‘well, we’re getting divorced anyway so it doesn’t matter’, he’s just gonna think of his wife getting screwed by one of his friends whose band he’s given a chance! That’s why it fucking matters!”

“Hey, this isn’t her fault, man, alright?!” Duff jumps in. “If you wanna blame someone, blame me, it’s my fault anyway! I’m the one who told her how I felt about her when she was vulnerable and shit happened!”

“Fine.” Axl says, exhaling.

“Sorry for fighting.” I mumble.

We finally get back to the hotel in an hour, managing to dodge seeing any of the guys, Fred, or Doc when we get in.

Once Duff and I are back in his room, he’s getting out of my shower while I'm aimlessly flipping through TV channels, trying to find something to watch. 

"Hey, Viv?" I hear him call and I put the remote down and step to him, leaning against the bathroom door, nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. 

"What's up?" I ask and he looks at me. 

"I forgot my hairbrush." He tells me and I smile a little before stepping to my suitcase to grab mine while he finishes drying off and pulls his boxer shorts on, stepping into the room. "Thanks." He says when I hand it to him and he roughly goes through the strands of his hair, making me cringe. 

"Don't be so mean to your hair, Duff, geez." I comment, taking the brush from him, sitting on the bed. "C'mere." I motion him over and he playfully rolls his eyes and sits in front of me while I stand on my knees at his back and gently brush through his bleached tresses. "You need to start using more conditioner." I tell him.

"That's what Stevie tells me when he sees me struggling with it." He informs me with a chuckle. 

When I'm done, I'm putting my brush back in my bag and getting into bed, under the covers. 

"I'm sorry if this is a let down but I'm too tired to finish what we started earlier." I admit to him as he gets into bed with me and shuts the light off. 

"Tell me about it." He replies, his hand gently playing with the red strands of my hair strewn across my pillow. "And it's not a let down. Just laying in the same bed as you is well over good enough." He assures me and I look at him, smiling. 

I scoot a little closer to him, my arm wrapping around his waist, my lips kissing at his for a brief second as his arm snakes around me. 

"Goodnight, Duff." I say quietly. 

"G'night, Viv." He tells me, and for the first time in months, I sleep through the night, completely. 

I sleep through the entire day, waking up to the feeling of lips kissing up my neck, Duff’s soft hair brushing against my skin and I hum.

“What time is it?” I ask him, stretching, smiling softly as he kisses at my cheek next.

“Five o’clock.” He replies, moving to get off of me, but I wrap my legs around his hips and stop him.

“What time do we have to leave here for the show?”

“It’s an off day, remember?” He reminds me and I raise a brow.

“Oh, it is. I forgot.” I admit.

“Well, you have been asleep the whole day, so.” He brushes some of my hair from my face.

“Wanna get some room service tonight?” I offer. 

"Me and the guys were gonna hangout tonight." He explains. "But Steven already said I needed to bring you." He adds. "So if you wanna come, you can."

"Okay." I nod, rubbing my lips together. "Have you seen Nikki today?"

"He and Tommy were by the pool with Tansy and Sparkie earlier." 

"Is Tommy's cheek okay?"

"It's bruised, but I don't think it'll scar where Steven's ring got him." 

"Ughh, I'm gonna have to apologize to him for that." I mumble, looking at the ceiling. "I just wish him and Nikki would just leave Emi and Mick alone. I mean, you can't help who you like, you know?" 

"Talk to Nikki and Tommy about it." Duff suggests. 

"They'll laugh in my face if I say, 'you can't help who you like'." I state. 

"...Yeah, maybe don't say anything." He agrees after thinking on it for a moment. 

"Yeah." I giggle, kissing his cheek. "Alright, you're free." I release my legs from his waist so he can get up. "I gotta shower and get ready and I'll meet you guys. Who's room do I need to go to?"

"Probably Stevie's." He tells me, getting up. 

"Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes." I reply, getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 

He stops me before I can close the bathroom door, about to kiss me. 

"Babe, my breath." I lean back to avoid embarrassment. 

"I don't care." He states, pressing his lips to mine chastely. "See you in a few." He says before walking out. 

Once I get a shower and get clothes on, skipping out on doing my hair and makeup because these guys saw me look like hell for weeks when Nikki and I took those couple months apart, before I head down to Steven's room. 

When I go to knock on the door, it's cracked open already, and I peek inside to see he and the guys are nowhere around. 

"Oh-kay." I mumble, stepping inside to see if there's any sign they'll be back, like room keys, or shoes, or jackets. 

Nothing. 

I turn on my heel and head to the door when something appealing catches my eye. 

A ziplock of brownies. 

My stomach growls, and I realize I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning. 

"Just one won't hurt anything." I say to myself. 

Fifteen minutes and five brownies later, I'm not even hungry for actual dinner. 

I put the bag back where I got it and head downstairs to see Steven, Axl, Izzy, Duff, Slash, Nikki and Tommy at the bar. 

I don't give Tommy or Nikki a second glance before sitting next to Steven and Duff. 

"You drinking?" Izzy asks me, amused I'm sitting at the "big boy" table. 

"No." I reply. 

"You want food?" Duff asks me.

"Nah, I'm full on brownies." I explain and Slash and Steven suddenly stop dead in their tracks, mid-drink, before looking down the bar at each other, and then to me. 

"On what?" Slash asks me, cautiously. 

"She said, 'brownies'." Axl tells him. 

"Oh...from where?" Steven asks me and I furrow my brows. 

"Your room, why?" 

"Oh, okay...um, hey, I think I forgot my rubbers in my room." Steven gets off the barstool. "Slash, you wanna come with me?" 

"Nah, man, I'm--" Steven's pulling him off the stool by the back of his jacket, the two of them walking quickly to the elevator. 

Me and Duff exchange glances and follow after them, Duff's hand keeping the elevator doors from closing at the last second. 

Steven looks pained when we step in with them, eyeing the two of them. 

"What's going on?" Duff asks them, casually, wanting to get to the bottom of it. 

"Nothing." Stevie denies, shaking his head a little. 

"Steven, be honest." I add and he shrugs. 

"Nothing's going on." He says, matter-of-fact.

"Stevie--"

I'm cut off when the doors open on our floor and Steven takes off to his room, getting the door unlocked, heading to the bag of brownies with Slash on his heels. 

"Steven, what's wrong?" I ask when me and Duff catch up. 

"Oh, no." He lets out, slightly panicked. "Oh, no, no. Not good. Oh, God. Oh, I'm gonna be sick." He runs his fingers through this blonde hair. 

"Steven, what is it?" Duff asks him next. 

"She ate, like, five!" Steven explains. 

"I can get you some more brownies, Steven, it's okay." I chuckle. 

Duff looks at the brownies, then and Slash and Steven, then back at the brownies, then at me, then back at the brownies…

"Were these…? Duff asks them, raising his brows. 

"Uh huh." Steven winces out and Duff's eyes widen. 

"A-And she ate five?" 

"Yeah." 

"How much was in them?" 

"Well...there was like ten in each brownie and she had five so--"

"--You gave her fifty milligrams of weed brownies?!" 

"Of what?!" I ask.

"I didn't give them to her, she ate them herself!" Steven points out. 

"Oh, no." I say aloud.

"Oh, no" was right.

[hieromonkcharbel]

--Turning my eyes carefully upon myself and watching the course of my inward state, I have verified by experience that I do not love God, that I have no love for my neighbors, that I have no religious belief, and that I am filled with pride and sensuality. All this I actually find in myself as a result of detailed examination of my feelings and conduct, thus:

1. I do not love God. For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the contrary, I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort. I struggle with reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth and am ready to occupy myself eagerly with any unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and keeps me from it. My time slips away unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am occupied with God, when I put myself into His presence, every hour seems like a year. If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up 23 hours as fervent offerings to the idols of my passions. I am forward in talk about frivolous matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the consideration of God I am dry, bored, and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by others into spiritual conversation, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which pleases my desires. I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and political events; I eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science and art, and ways of getting things I want to possess. But the study of the law of God, the knowledge of God and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy no hunger of my soul. I regard these things not only as a non-essential occupation for a Christian, but in a casual way as a sort of side-issue with which I should perhaps occupy my spare time, at odd moments. To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized by the keeping of His commandments ("If ye love Me, keep My commandments," says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not keep them, but even make little attempt to do so, then in absolute truth the conclusion follows that I do not love God. That is what Basil the Great says: "The proof that a man does not love God and His Christ lies in the fact that he does not keep His commandments."

2. I do not love my neighbor either. For not only am I unable to make up my mind to lay down my life for his sake (according to the gospel), but I do not even sacrifice my happiness, well-being, and peace for the good of my neighbor. If I did love him as myself, as the gospel bids, his misfortunes would distress me also, his happiness would bring delight to me too. But, on the contrary, I listen to curious, unhappy stories about my neighbor, and I am not distressed; I remain quite undisturbed or, what is still worse, I find a sort of pleasure in them. Bad conduct on the part of my brother I do not cover up with love, but proclaim abroad with censure. His well-being, honor, and happiness do not delight me as my own, and, as if they were something quite alien to me, give me no feeling of gladness. What is more, they subtly arouse in me feelings of envy or contempt.

3. I have no religious belief. Neither in immortality nor in the gospel. If I were firmly persuaded and believed without doubt that beyond the grave lies eternal life and recompense for the deeds of this life, I should be continually thinking of this. The very idea of immortality would terrify me and I should lead this life as a foreigner who gets ready to enter his native land. On the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I regard the end of this earthly life as the limit of my existence. The secret thought nestles within me: Who knows what happens at death? If I say I believe in immortality, then I am speaking about my mind only, and my heart is far removed from a firm conviction about it. That is openly witnessed to by my conduct and my constant care to satisfy the life of the senses. Were the holy gospel taken into my heart in faith, as the Word of God, I should be continually occupied with it, I should study it, find delight in it, and with deep devotion fix my attention upon it. Wisdom, mercy, and love are hidden in it; it would lead me to happiness, I should find gladness in the study of the law of God day and night. In it I should find nourishment like my daily bread, and my heart would be drawn to the keeping of its laws. Nothing on earth would be strong enough to turn me away from it. On the contrary, if now and again I read or hear the Word of God, yet even so it is only from necessity or from a general love of knowledge, and approaching it without any very close attention I find it dull and uninteresting. I usually come to the end of the reading without any profit, only too ready to change over to secular reading in which I take more pleasure and find new and interesting subjects.

4. I am full of pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this. Seeing something good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before other people or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward humility, yet I ascribe it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to others, or at least no worse than they. If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it; I cover it up by saying, "I am made like that" or "I am not to blame". I get angry with those who do not treat me with respect and consider them unable to appreciate the value of people. I brag about my gifts: my failures in any undertaking I regard as a personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in the unhappiness of my enemies. If I strive after anything good it is for the purpose of winning praise, or spiritual self-indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I continually make an idol of myself and render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all things the pleasures of the senses and nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts.

--Going over all this I see myself as proud, adulterous, unbelieving, without love for God and hating my neighbor. What state could be more sinful? The condition of the spirits of darkness is better than mine. They, although they do not love God, hate men, and live upon pride, yet at least believe and tremble. But I? Can there be a doom more terrible than that which faces me, and what sentence of punishment will be more severe than that upon the careless and foolish life that I recognize in myself?

On reading through this form of confession which the priest gave me I was horrified, and I thought to myself, "Good heavens! What frightful sins there are hidden within me, and up to now I've never noticed them!" The desire to be cleansed from them made me beg this great spiritual father to teach me how to know the causes of all these evils and how to cure them. And he began to instruct me.

"You see, dear brother, the cause of not loving God is want of belief, want of belief is caused by lack of conviction, and the cause of that is failure to seek for holy and true knowledge, indifference to the light of the spirit. In a word, if you don't believe, you can't love; if you are not convinced, you can't believe, and in order to reach conviction you must get a full and exact knowledge of the matter before you. By meditation, by the study of God's Word, and by noting your experience, you must arouse in your soul a thirst and a longing- or, as some call it, 'wonder'- which brings you an insatiable desire to know things more closely and more fully, to go deeper into their nature.

"One spiritual writer speaks of it in this way: 'Love,' he says, 'usually grows with knowledge, and the greater the depth and extent of the knowledge the more love there will be, the more easily the heart will soften and lay itself open to the love of God, as it diligently gazes upon the very fullness and beauty of the divine nature and His unbounded love for men.'

"So now you see that the cause of those sins which you read over is slothfulness in thinking about spiritual things, sloth which stifles the feeling of the need of such thought. If you want to know how to overcome this evil, strive after enlightenment of spirit by every means in your power, attain it by diligent study of the Word of God and of the holy Fathers, by the help of meditation and spiritual counsel, and by the conversation of those who are wise in Christ. Ah, dear brother, how much disaster we meet with just because we are lazy about seeking light for our souls through the word of truth. We do not study God's law day and night, and we do not pray about it diligently and unceasingly. And because of this our inner man is hungry and cold, starved, so that it has no strength to take a bold step forward upon the road of righteousness and salvation! And so, beloved, let us resolve to make use of these methods, and as often as possible fill our minds with thoughts of heavenly things; and love, poured down into our hearts from on high, will burst into flame within us. We will do this together and pray as often as we can, for prayer is the chief and strongest means for our renewal and well-being. We will pray, in the words holy Church teaches us: 'Oh God, make me fit to love Thee now, as I have loved sin in the past'"

The Pilgrim Continues His Way

[larryssunflower]

The Non-Royal Romance, Part Six - Secrets

read past parts to catch up!

part one   part two    part three    part four    part five

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The sounds of cutlery on plates and small conversations fill the hall, in which I reside, edging the lobster in my bisque with my spoon absentmindedly. Because we are with the Nevrakis family, of course, Oliver insisted I sit at the front table with him. My eyes dart from my bland soup to where Drake is standing across the room, his hands clasped in front of him in his lovely navy suit. His dark eyes scan the room, stopping when meeting me with direct eye contact. I smile slightly, and he nods back.

I notice Liam sitting in the very back of the ballroom, talking and laughing with Maxwell and Allie, who seems to have taken a break from waiting tables. They only have one bowl of lobster bisque. Huh, I wonder why they got stuffed back there. I glance to my right to see Oliver, who is chatting to someone to his right. Of course. Oliver is purposefully keeping them back there. I get a bitter taste looking at him, having to make myself look away. I still don't think I can forgive him for going after Drake like that. And what he did to Drake’s poor sister. I feel a warm hand on mine and turn to my left to smile at my mother. “Are you feeling alright darling?” She asks me. No, being trapped in a stuffy ballroom with snobby rich people is not how I would like to be spending my time. “Yes, of course, mother, I’m just a bit tired after yesterday,” I say with another polite fake smile. “Good, because I think it's about time for dancing,” She says with a wink, making me laugh.

Almost just on cue, music starts playing from a live orchestra, and people start making their way to the dancefloor. I look to my right, and Oliver is standing, with his hand held out to me. “Care to dance Princess?” He asks, and after hearing Drake call me princess all the time, it makes me cringe hearing it from Oliver's mouth. 

We make our way to the dancefloor, and the crowd parts, to allow us to be in the middle. Of course, we begin with the Cordonian Waltz. Oliver seems more than happy to finally place his hand on my hip and his other in my hand. I reluctantly put my hand in his and the other on his shoulder. It feels so uncomfortable being in his hands, it makes me feel sick. As he leads me through the dance effortlessly, I get lost in the movements like I usually do when I'm forced to dance with someone I dislike. I suddenly wonder what it would be like to dance with Drake. I almost laugh at the thought.

Like that could ever happen. But, to just imagine it, to be in such close quarters, to feel his hands on my waist, to be able to freely gaze into those coffee eyes, and be alone with him. We would be in our own little world. I would be spinning in his arms in an empty ballroom and he would twirl me out, then bring me close. We would share our breath, staring into each other's eyes, then he would dip me down gently, and bring me back up, even closer this time. We would inch closer, our proximity intoxicating. Our lips would brush and before long, it would get heated- I suddenly stumble, screwing up the footing of the dance with Oliver, thrusting me back into reality. I flush darkly, as Oliver looks at me with questioning eyes. I awkwardly laugh but get saved by the song coming to an end.

As the ballroom applauds I look over at Drake, who was clearly watching us closely. because it's his job. My mind tries to reason, and I sigh, hoping my face looks a bit less red. Before I know it, the next song starts, then the next, and then the next. And at every song comes another suitor, asking for a dance. That happens for a bit until Oliver want to dance with me again, and forces the men away. “I would love some alone time with you Alana,” He says, his voice silky. I smile through the hopefully not visible cringe and nod. “Of course Duke Nevrakis,” I smile. He looks at me for a moment, and out of nowhere, leans in, pressing his lips to mine. I pull back quickly in surprise, looking at Oliver incredulously. I notice Drake stalking over, his face filled with fury. I widen my eyes and raise my hand to stop him. He falters, looking at me with heated intensity.

I glance at the shocked faces in the crowd, and motion for Oliver to follow me out into the hallway, away from earshot. Once we are far enough away, I turn to him, fuming. “That will never happen again, understand me?” I ask angrily, my arms crossed. He cringes and looks away cowardly. “Y-yeah I’m sorry I just-“ He starts, his face rivaling his hair color, but I shake my head. “I don’t want to hear it. That kind of behavior is unacceptable and I will not tolerate being embarrassed like that,” I continue, internally groaning at what my mother will have to say about this. “Princess, I deeply apologize, I just got caught up in the moment and It will never happen again,” Oliver says desperately, and I nod. “Yes, you are correct. I will never kiss you again. Oh and don’t call me Princess,” I say bitterly, pushing past him. As I’m storming back towards the ball, an arm pulls me into a different hallway. I yelp in surprise only to see it’s Drake. He holds me there in place, his hand wrapped around my arm. My stomach flutters at the touch, and I try not to react too visibly.  “Do you need me to do anything about him?” He asks, and I blink in surprise, my heart jumping at his protective tendencies. 

“No it’s okay Drake, I think he has learned his lesson,” I say, and glance over my shoulder to see Oliver walking towards his room, his head hung. I look back and my eyes fall on Drake’s face. His hand is still clasped on my arm, and he is watching Oliver with a cold look in his eyes. I admire his face for a minute, the way the light casts shadows across his face, enhancing the shadow under his jawline. God he is so hot. His eyes move back over to me. I don’t look away, staring back into his eyes. I wish I could kiss you right now. I think, wishing that he could read my mind, and we could get past all this bullshit and finally be together. His brown eyes bore into mine, and I swear he feels the same. My eyes wander around his beautifully sculpted face, lingering on his mouth. I suddenly feel really hot, my face probably flushed. He looks at me for another moment before he glances down at his hand on my arm. He lets go, his hand dropping to his side, causing disappointment to wash over me. He clears his throat. “You should get back to the ball Princess,” he says, and I sigh. “Do I have to?” I groan childishly, making him smile in amusement. “I think so,” he says softly, causing me to sigh. “Shame, I was finally starting to have a good time,” I say, with a little wink, before heading back into hell.

—-

That night, around 2:00 am

I wake up, my mouth dry. Annoyed by the disturbance, I reach over to fill my glass with my water pitcher, only to realize that I don’t have one here. I’ll have to go down to the kitchens. Maybe I can sneak a pop tart or something. That lobster wasn’t very filling. I grab my glass, slip into my robe, and step into my slippers. Quietly, I open my door and see the overnight guard, Greg. “Hey miss, what are you doing up?” He asks kindly, and I smile. “Oh I’m just going to grab some water and a snack, can I get you anything?” I ask, but he shakes his head. “Be careful, and scream loudly if you get into trouble,” he says teasingly. I chuckle. “Will do Greg,” I say, starting off to the kitchens.

My footsteps echo the empty halls, the blue moonlight filtering in through the tall windows. On my way down to the kitchens, I walk through the somewhat familiar duchy, enjoying the peaceful emptiness. After tonight, it’s nice to be alone. As I walk through a small hallway, I jump out of my skin at the sudden blood-curling scream coming from the room to my left. I freeze in place, my heart pounding in my chest. What. The. Fuck. I near the door quietly, hearing the rustling is sheets and a groaning sound. Then a sudden shout again. Then, with my instincts screaming at me, I open the door and close it behind me, turning on the light.

There, on the small bed in front of me, is Drake, twisted up in his sheets, wearing only black joggers. I gulp at the sight of his ripped body, but before I can get a good look, he screams again, his face contorted in fear. My heart breaks and in a second I’m by his side, cradling his face. “Hey, shhh. Drake,” I say softly, stroking his face. The distress in his face slowly dissipates, and he seems to be back to normal, resting again. I notice how young he looks, without that permanent frown/scowl, his lips parted slightly. I smile, my heart fluttering. He leans into my touch and I practically swoon.

I’m totally falling for this man.

The moment is over when, suddenly, his eyes snap open, looking nearly black as they focus onto me. My heart drops and in a millisecond, I’m on the ground, Drake on top of me, pinning my down my wrists. Usually, I wouldn't be so upset being in this position with Drake, but his scary expression makes me yelp, looking up at him in surprise. He blinks down at me. “P-princess?” He asks, clearly only just recognizing me. He leaps off me, backing up. “What are you doing in here?” He asks in a startled tone. “I- I was walking past and heard screaming and came to see if you were alright,” I say quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re telling me you heard screaming and decided to investigate? You are truly dumber than you look,” he says bitterly. Ouch. “Wow okay. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Want to talk about what you were having a nightmare about?” I ask, looking at him apprehensively. I don’t want him to hate me but I’m curious. He sighs, shaking his head. “Look, Princess, what happened in my past doesn’t concern you,” he says, and I scoff to his surprise. “You know that’s bullshit,” I say, crossing my arms. He opens his door, motioning me to leave. I tilt my head in defiance, pressing my lips together, not moving.

He clenches his jaw in annoyance. “Fine.” He says, shutting the door and turning back to me. “When I was eighteen, I registered to be in the US Navy. I spent seven years serving, working my way up the chain. Two years ago, I was a sergeant on a submarine going through the Arctic Ocean on a routine deployment. A Russian recruit thought that we were an ‘attack submarine’ and he fired a couple missiles at us. I was one of four that survived out of a total of 134. That’s how I got these,” he says, pointing to his abdomen. In the low light, I only now notice the multiple deep scars etched into his skin. There are other scars, smaller ones, near his chest. I gasp, tears springing to my eyes. “After that, I was discharged, and then I joined the royal guard.” He finishes, his voice and unfamiliar tone. “I-I’m so beyond sorry Drake, that must have been awful,” I say softly.

“Yes, Princess it was. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to try to sleep,” he says coldly, opening his door, and motioning me to leave once again. This time I concede and walk past him, shame overcoming me. “Goodnight Princess,” he says with finality, shutting the door behind me. I flinch and look down, tears dripping from my eyes. I had absolutely no idea. I make my way to the kitchens again, thinking. I should have just left the first time. “Idiot,” I mutter to myself, running my hands through my hair. And just as we were starting to get along again. I stand in place as I wait for my pitcher to fill up. I hope he was okay being on Maxwell’s yacht. He seemed a bit off when we were at sea that’s for sure. Which makes sense obviously.

I walk back into my room, smiling at Greg, and setting my pitcher and glass down on my bedside table. I slide under my covers, curling up. I really hope Drake forgives me. It’s not exactly the best thing for your personal bodyguard to hate you. And after risking my life skiing and pestering him about his rough past, I wouldn’t blame him for hating me. In a way, I’m glad I know now, I feel closer to him and I think that’s important for our... relationship. Whatever the hell our relationship is.

I suddenly get a thought that makes me feel sick. What if I really never get to be with Drake? What if he truly doesn’t feel the same? The deadline to my coronation ball is nearing, and not only will I be choosing my husband, but becoming the Queen of a country. I’m just not sure if this is what I want. I sit up in bed, fiddling with my sheets anxiously. How am I supposed to choose who I will spend the rest of my life with? What if I don’t want to choose a suitor at all? This situation isn’t exactly one my mother discussed with me. I’m not sure why, but I always had this feeling that me and Drake would end up happening and I don’t have anything to worry about, but that’s sadly not the case.

We only have the applewood manor, the Beaumont bash, then the ball. In the next couple of days, we will arrive at the Applewood manor and go on the fox hunt and have the feast, then the next day, the little apple festival. That should be interesting to see a bunch of royal men try to bake pies as they have probably had all their pies fed to them on a silver spoon. Of course, it’s tradition for the suitors to do the festival, but they have been all women in the past. Nether the less, it should be entertaining. Hopefully I will have time to hang out with Maxwell, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to my best friend. Maybe I can get closer to Drake aswell...

I eventually drift off to sleep, thinking up a fantasy ending in which Drake and I run away together, no worries in the world.

----

Oh poor Alana, she truly is falling for that man! I hope you guys enjoyed this short-ish chapter, and if y’all have been paying attention, there are some spots in past chapters where Drake’s past is hinted (I wonder if you guys noticed) I’m so excited for these next chapters, they are gonna be so good! Love you all, my readers, the old and the new, thank you guys for reading, it means the world to me 💕 see you next chapter!

[treasure7boys]

Sunny Summer || Park Jihoon

♡♡♡♡

Type: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 4.7K (Lol, I got really carried away)

Warning: Cursing, mature-ish themes (lol, not really) [Not Edited]

Description: You've matured since the last time Jihoon saw you ... and he's not the only one who's noticed

♡♡♡♡

Honestly, the thought of spending every summer in Jeju with your family wasn't exactly ideal. You wanted to spend the summer with your friends, not on an island where you knew almost no one. Still, you had one saving grace: Park Jihoon. The Park family was close friends with your own, so they had been staying at the same beach house with you since you were seven years old. Jihoon was the same age as you, so you naturally became close friends.

Your families both lived in Seoul, but you never really hung out with Jihoon unless it was some holiday or celebration and his family was over. As you senior year came to an end, you realized you hadn't seen Jihoon at all since that summer. It wasn't surprising, though, since you were both busy with studying for entrance exams and whatnot.

“He's going to be so surprised with how beautiful you've become,” your mother smiled as your plane landed in Jeju, stroking your hair lovingly.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed by the compliment. “It's not like I've changed that much,” you told her.

That wasn't necessarily true, however, you were just being humble. In all honesty, puberty did finally hit and it was kind to you. The boyish figure you once had finally had some shape to it. Your chest was still on the flatter side, but you couldn't have it all. Your braces were also removed and your now straight smile was beautiful. It was the little things that changed that made you look even prettier.

Your heart pounded like a drum as you neared the familiar beach house, which was basically your second home at that point. At first, you hadn't anticipated anything, but, after your mother's comment, you were wondering if this summer would be different.

“You're here!” Mrs. Park shouted as she rushed down the sandy steps of the beach house and to your mother, tightly hugging her. “Jihoon! Hurry to help with bags!”

Your own father hugged Mrs. Park and then Mr. Park, who was chuckling at how excited his wife was. “She's been waiting at the window for you guys,” he informed you all, making you smile fondly.

Mrs. Park turned to you. “Look how much you've grown in the past year! You're even more gorgeous, Y/N!”

Again, you blushed as you thanked her but politely said you looked the same. You watched as Jihoon appeared and they disappeared, always leaving the two of you to unload the rental car. “What happened to your face?” Jihoon asked as he opened the trunk.

You scowled, already knowing this summer would be like every other one. “Gee, thanks for that confidence boost,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He smiled and shook his head. “That's not what I meant. You just look different.” He inspected you and you felt like a bug under a microscope. “You got your braces off, huh?”

Nodding, you flashed him a smile. “You did, too. You look good.” The two of you embraced tightly before turning to the bags. “Are Junkyu and Yoonbin here yet?”

He nodded. “Yoonbin got here two days ago and Junkyu last night,” he informed you. “There's a party on the beach thrown by some college kids and Yoonbin managed to get us an invite.”

“Sounds cool,” you said, but you weren't sure how you felt. You had never been to a college party or any party for that matter. You liked to stay in bed where it was warm and safe, eating snacks and watching movies. Still, maybe you might like the party scene.

After unloading everything and putting the bags in your respective rooms, you put your swimsuit on, some shorts and a tank top, and then joined Jihoon downstairs to meet Junkyu and Yoonbin for a swim.

“What happened to you?” Junkyu asked, his eyebrows furrowing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You scoffed in disbelief, “Did I get so ugly over the span of one year?”

Yoonbin smiled. “I think he's talking about that giant bruise on your knee,” he commented.

“No, I'm talking about how my little brother, Y/N, is now my sister,” Junkyu said. “When did you get a figure?”

You shoved him aside, going to set your towel down. “Shut up,” you huffed.

“Wait, who called you ugly?” Yoonbin asked.

Junkyu nodded. “Yeah! I'll fight him for you!”

You glanced at Jihoon. “I didn't call you ugly!” he exclaimed. “I just couldn't figure out what about you changed.”

Letting out a laugh, you jumped up to your feet and threw an arm around him. “I know, I know! I just like to give you a hard time,” you teased. “Now, let's get in the water. It's so hot out.”

As you removed your shirt and shorts, you watched the boys rush into the water. Every year before, you had worn a one-piece swimsuit. That year, however, you wore your first bikini. With your new figure, your friend had somehow convinced you to show it off. You felt slightly self-conscious, but you knew you just had to fake it until you make it.

After some swimming and goofing off, you finally decided you wanted to dry off and enjoy the warm sun. The boys agreed but already planned on playing some volleyball with a beach ball in a little bit.

“Yeah, I fell down the stairs because I was so excited after finding out I got accepted into one of my top three universities,” you told Yoonbin, explaining why your knee was bruised. “I'm just glad I didn't break it.”

He laughed, “I'm surprised you didn't.”

“I'll have the whole house to myself for two nights, so we can have our own mini party,” Junkyu said to Jihoon. You didn't hear the whole conversation because you and Yoonbin had just tuned in.

You looked at Jihoon. “You're gonna leave me alone for two nights with just our parents?” you asked him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Junkyu cut him off. “You can come, too. I don't think your parents would mind. What would even happen?”

Yoonbin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we're all like siblings,” he added.

“Good point. I'll ask, but I'm sure they'll be fine with it,” you said. Your eyes wandered towards three guys passing by. Your jaw just about dropped. “That guy is so hot.”

They looked to see who you were drooling over. “Yugyeom-hyung?” Jihoon questioned. “The guy we've known since we were kids?”

You shook your head, “No, the one in the middle.”

“His name is Eunwoo, this summer's heartthrob,” Junkyu told you. “All the girls are talking about him and he just got here.”

Eunwoo looked over, seeing you staring. He sent you a sweet smile before turning away. “Well, you've certainly got his attention,” Yoonbin smirked, standing up to go play volleyball.

“I'm in love,” you said. “What I wouldn't give to have even just two minutes in heaven with him.”

You felt something hit your head. It didn't hurt, but sometimes you liked to be dramatic. “Ouch! What the heck?!”

Jihoon looked at you as he picked up the beach ball he had just hit you with. “Stop drooling over him and come play,” he said.

Scowling, you stood up and joined Junkyu on the other side of the net.

♡♡♡♡

“Hurry up, Y/N! Before I'm old!” Jihoon called to you somewhat jokingly, waiting on the porch of the beach house.

You hurriedly slipped your bracelet onto your wrist before jogging down the stairs. “Well, don't you look gorgeous,” your mother smiled, lovingly smoothing down your hair.

You were wearing a skirt and top set. They were both red with white flowers on them. The top was a crop top with sleeves that wrapped around your upper arm, showing off both your stomach and shoulders. You had bought it on a whim hoping it would look good and maybe you could try and find a style that you really liked. Hopefully your mother was right and you looked gorgeous.

“Watch after Jihoon, yeah? Now that you guys can drink, he thinks he's a pro,” Mrs. Park snickered.

Smiling, you nodded. “Of course,” you told her. “I'm not planning on drinking much or at all in order to keep an eye on the three of them.”

“That's my girl,” your mother smiled. You quickly put your sandals on and then joined Jihoon outside.

He looked at you and stopped swaying, inspecting you. It felt like he stared at you forever until he finally said, “You look nice, now let's go before Junkyu gets impatient.”

You nodded, joining his side as you walked down the beach and to the house. Honestly, you weren't sure whose house or party it was, but you didn't really care.

“That's a cute outfit,” a girl told you. You were pretty sure her name was Herin.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling at her. She ended up spending a lot of the night with you and the boys. It turned out it was her first summer there, just a whim on her parent's end.

Junkyu's eyes wandered and spotted Eunwoo standing near the cooler. “Look, Y/N, your boyfriend is here,” he teased.

You looked over, blushing slightly when you saw Eunwoo. “He's totally yummy,” Herin said.

That made you smile. You could never really talk about guys on a real level with the three boys. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, turning back to look at Eunwoo. “He's seriously gorgeous.”

Her arm looped with your own, “Come on, let's go refill our drinks.”

The two of you quickly left, going over to the cooler where Eunwoo was with another tall, handsome boy. He spotted you and Herin before smiling. “Hi,” he spoke, his voice as beautiful and angelic as himself. “You're Y/N, right?”

The fact that he knew your name made your mind go blank and insides become mush. “Y-yeah,” you managed out, feeling Herin lightly squeeze your arm. You didn't care if Yugyeom had told him your name, you were just happy he had remembered.

Jihoon watched on with Yoonbin and Junkyu. “What could they possibly be talking about?” Jihoon scoffed. “They probably have nothing in common.”

Yoonbin smirked. “Jihoon, your jealousy is showing,” he said in a sing-song tone. “If you want to date Y/N so badly, then tell her how you feel. You won't get anywhere by not saying anything.”

That made Junkyu laugh but nod in agreement. Once again, Jihoon scoffed, but much more dramatically as he took another gulp of his beer. “Jealous? No way!”

“Come on, you've glared at any guy who stared at Y/N too long. An appreciative glance her way equals a glare from you,” Junkyu said. “Admit it, Y/N finally grew up during senior year and tons of guys have noticed. You're so used to her always being with you and us, so you're bothered that she has a thing for that Eunwoo guy and vice-versa.”

Jihoon was upset at the fact that he was so transparent to his two friends and the fact that they were right. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it. You were practically his best friend and he was so used to having you around him almost at all times. Seeing you making new friends and spreading your wings bothered him because he feared you leave him and he hated that.

You were so caught up in your conversation with Eunwoo that you hadn't noticed Herin and Mingyu totally hitting it off. Eunwoo was really nice, sweet, and handsome, but he wasn't very funny. In fact, he was kind of awkward. Still, you enjoyed his company enough and he enjoyed yours, but it was obvious to both of you that things would never turn romantic.

In all that time, you completely forgot about Jihoon, Junkyu, and Yoonbin. You felt really guilty since the summer was for them, but you were sure you'd see them plenty during university and were hoping you guys would start hanging out in Seoul. “I really had a nice time talking with you, but I think I should go find my friends and make sure they're not doing something stupid,” you told Eunwoo.

He smiled and nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope we can talk again soon,” he said.

Herin sent you a look, one that clearly asked if you wanted her to go with you. You slightly shook your head, wanting her to spend more time with Mingyu. Without another word or silent communication, you left.

“There you are!” you exclaimed when you finally found Jihoon. He was alone in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the foot of the bed with his arms wrapped around a pillow. “I've been looking for you everywhere! Where are Yoonbin and Junkyu?”

Jihoon didn't respond right away and you watched his head bob up and down slightly. That was when you realized he was drunk. He reeked of alcohol. “Y/N! There you are!” he exclaimed, his words only slightly slurred, which was surprising.

You giggled but felt bad for not watching out for him and stopping him from drinking too much. “Come on, let's go find Junkyu and Yoonbin and then get you to bed.”

Grabbing his hands, you struggled to help him to his feet. You threw the pillow back onto the bed and lightly slapped Jihoon's face to wake him up. “Why didn't you hang out with me tonight? This is our time, Y/N. All these guys are suddenly talking to you because you're so hot and you have no time for me.”

Then, without any warning, he kissed you. It wasn't a long kiss, but longer than expected. When he pulled away, his head fell on your shoulder. “Holy shit,” Yoonbin's voice said. You hadn't even noticed him and Junkyu.

“We never speak of this,” you say and they nod. “Come on, help me get him home.”

It was kind of a struggle, but you guys eventually got him on Junkyu's back and then home. You were relieved your parents weren't awake because you didn't want Jihoon to do something dumb.

Before Jihoon fell asleep, you made him eat something and drink water.

♡♡♡♡

“I did what?!” Jihoon shrieked, rubbing at his temples right after. His headache had gone down a great deal, but not completely. “No, there's no way. Did I do anything else?”

Yoonbin nodded, “You called her hot.”

That made him groan and bury his head in his hands. You had gone to get ice cream with Herin and he was sure you were telling her what happened. The two of you had only just met but he could tell you hit it off and finally had a girl to confide in.

“How bad is this? Like, have I made things totally awkward or will Y/N and I be okay?”

Silence took over as the three boys thought about this. “Honestly, I think Y/N just chalked it up to a drunken mistake on your part,” Junkyu confessed. “Knowing Y/N, she'll pretend it never happened.”

Jihoon didn't know how he felt about that. On one hand, he wished it had never happened, so pretending it didn't was the next best thing. On the other, all he wanted to do was talk about it with you. He couldn't just leave the situation up in the air, could he? This was why he never wanted to confess his feelings to you. When feelings got involved, things only got complicated.

The front door opened and Jihoon wondered if it was your guys’ parents coming back from whatever thing they had planned to do in town. “I'm back!” you called out, shutting the door behind you. You went upstairs and found the three boys in Jihoon's room. “Feeling better?”

Jihoon swallowed hard as he nodded. Things felt weird but he knew that was only on his end. “How was ice cream with Herin?” Junkyu asked, trying to ease the awkwardness caused by Jihoon.

You sat down next to Jihoon. You were close, closer than he expected. He felt like he couldn't breathe properly. “Good. We ran into Eunwoo-oppa and Mingyu-oppa. I think Herin and Mingyu-oppa are really hitting it off.”

Oppa? You were calling Eunwoo that already? The two of you just met! Were you really already that close? It made Jihoon feel upset and jealous and he hated that. He didn't want to be that guy, but he couldn't help it.

“What about you and Eunwoo?” Yoonbin asked. Jihoon looked at him, wondering why he'd ask that. Was he trying to make Jihoon even more jealous? Or was it just to get some clarity. Maybe both.

You shrugged. “I don't know. He's really nice, but I don't think it'll go anywhere,” you confessed, making Jihoon feel relieved. You looked at him and then grabbed his chin gently between your thumb and index finger. “Are you sure you're feeling better? You look flushed.”

Probably because he was. He wasn't sure how he looked, but he was freaking out on the inside. His heart was beating like a drum and he thought he would combust any second from your touch.

“I-I'm fine, just a little hot,” he finally said, cringing at his word choice.

Nodding slowly, you said, “Okay. Let's all watch a movie together. I'll meet you guys down there.”

They watched you leave before Junkyu hit Jihoon's arm. “Are you trying to make it awkward?!” he exclaimed. “Y/N was acting completely normal but you were acting like you two just met!”

“I know! I'm sorry!” Jihoon exclaimed. “I just can't help it. Even though I don't remember the kiss, I still feel like it only made me like her more. Now that I've crossed that line of friendship, it's hard to be just friends.”

Yoonbin sighed, “Then either talk to Y/N or get over it. This summer will be painful if you keep acting this way.”

That night, Jihoon couldn't sleep. He just laid in bed staring up at his ceiling, listening to the soft, low hum of the fan he had on his dresser. Earlier at dinner, he spazzed out when you got too close to grab some more rice and he ended up spilling soda all over you. He was sure his mother noticed he was acting weird and was thankful she didn't say anything … yet.

Normal. He just wanted things to be normal again. Checking the clock, he saw that midnight was just a few minutes away. With a smile on his face, he threw his covers off and went to your bedroom. You were sound asleep and he felt guilty waking you up, but only a little.

“Y/N, wake up,” he said softly, shaking you gently. You woke up fairly quickly.

Rubbing at your eyes, you whined, “What are you doing?”

“Come on, let's go for a midnight swim.”

That made you smile. A midnight swim was a tradition for you and Jihoon. The first midnight swim always occurred within the first week of summer to mark its official start. Midnight swims were sacred for the two of you because they were just yours. No parents, no Junkyu, and no Yoonbin. It was your time with each other, so it was special.

“Okay, let me just change.”

He shook his head as you climbed out of bed. “No time! We'll just swim in our clothes!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone. Without another word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him.

The two of you were panting slightly as you stood on the beach near the water. The night was quiet and no one else was out, which was kind of surprising. “Um, Jihoon?” you questioned, finally able to get a word in. He hummed in response, his eyes taking in the waves in the moonlight. “I'm not wearing pants.”

His eyes immediately went to your legs, realizing you were only in a T-shirt and underwear. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, peeling his eyes away. “I shouldn't have just pulled you out of there like that or looked at you.”

That made you giggle and he was kind of confused. “It's fine. It was basically an invitation for you to look.”

“Well, we can just swim in our underwear? It's like swimwear anyway.”

You both knew that wasn't completely true. Underwear was more intimate than swimwear, which was why they were called “intimates”. Still, you didn't say anything and nodded instead. Jihoon was quick to strip and remove his shirt and sweatpants. He waited nervously as you removed your shirt.

“You can look at me, Jihoon. I won't think you're a pervert or anything,” you said. He nodded and looked at you, trying his best to not check you out. You held out your hand. “Come on, let's go.”

He took your hand and then the two of you ran into the water. For the next half hour or so, you just swam and talked. Things felt normal for the first time all day. Maybe things didn't have to return to normal, though. Things had changed, clearly, but maybe it wasn't bad. Maybe things could change to a new kind of normal.

“Summer has officially begun,” Jihoon grunted softly as he sat down on the porch of the house. Content smiles were on both of your faces.

You sighed happily. “I thought it was going to be like any other summer, but it feels different. It feels like something big will happen.”

You sounded wistful; like you hoped it would be different. “Are you talking about the kiss?”

Jihoon couldn't believe he blurted that out. All he wanted to do was disappear, but he couldn't. “That kiss didn't mean anything, Jihoon. I mean, you were just drunk and upset,” you said. “We can't like each other, either, right? We just wouldn't work. I mean, me with you?”

What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, you're right. We wouldn't work,” Jihoon said, getting worked up because he was upset. “I'm not good enough for you, right? I can't compare to Eunwoo. He's gorgeous, tall, and x, y, and z. Why would you want me when you could have him?”

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jihoon was already storming inside.

♡♡♡♡

“Where's Jihoon?” your mother asked, joining you on the porch the next afternoon.

You shrugged, “Probably with Junkyu or Yoonbin. I don't know.”

She sat down next to you. “Interesting.”

Letting out a small sigh, you bookmarked your page and set your book down. It was obvious your mother knew something was going on between you and Jihoon and wanted answers. “We got into a fight last night, okay?”

Clearly, you were upset. “What happened? Come on, vent to Momma,” she said, making you smile a bit.

“At that party the other night, he got really drunk and kissed me. I was gonna act like it hadn't happened for the rest of my life since I thought it was just a drunken kiss, but I think it meant more to Jihoon than I thought,” you confessed to her. “He brought it up last night and then stormed off looking upset. I was just flustered and couldn't stop talking, so I think there was some misunderstanding. I've tried to clear things up, but he's avoiding me, ignoring my calls and texts, and even hangs up Yoonbin and Junkyu's phones when I call them.”

She smiled, soothingly stroking your hair. “He's just upset. Give him time to cool off and I'm sure he'll be open to talking again. Jihoon could never stay mad at you.” You nodded, hoping she was right. “The more important thing is if you like Jihoon back. From what I can tell, he likes you but is jealous of other guys, especially Eunwoo.”

You had no idea how she knew about Eunwoo and could only assume she had eavesdropped when you were on the phone with Herin earlier. “Eunwoo is nice and everything, but he's a little dull and awkward. I really like Jihoon. He's like my best friend. He understands me so well and everything about him is great. I think I've always liked him but I've wanted things to stay normal.”

“Well, sometimes normal has to change and become a new normal. Don't let ideas like that keep you from being happy, sweetie,” she told you. She made a really good point.

You smiled at her, “Thanks, Mom. I really needed this.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

She went back inside and you picked your book back up, feeling better than you had all day.

That evening, you had been so prepared to talk to Jihoon, but he didn't come home. You had forgotten Junkyu was going to have his house to himself, so Jihoon was staying over along with Yoonbin. Junkyu had invited you, but you felt awkward to just show up after a whole day of avoiding each other. You decided to just stay at home with all the parents. It was weird since Jihoon and you were almost always together, but it really helped you to realize just how much Jihoon meant to you.

You couldn't sleep that night. It was so weird that the whole day passed without you and Jihoon talking. It made you feel weird and unsettled. Instead of just laying in bed, you went downstairs for ice cream. When you got down there, you just about had a heart attack when you saw Jihoon sitting at the table.

“What are you doing here?!” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, a hand over your pounding heart. “I almost peed my pants!”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch slightly. “I couldn't sleep, so I left Junkyu's,” he told you. You nodded, feeling awkward. “Okay, that's not the complete truth. I felt really guilty for ignoring you all day and couldn't sleep. I came here to talk to you, but I chickened out and have been sitting here trying to give myself the confidence for the past 10 minutes.”

“You didn't have to chicken out. I've been trying to talk to you all day.”

He nodded. “I know, but I was hurt and upset.”

“That's why I was trying to talk to you. It was a misunderstanding, Jihoon. I was just talking without thinking because I like you, too. Eunwoo-oppa is just a friend. He may be good looking and stuff, but he doesn't begin to compare to you,” you confessed. “You're my best friend, Jihoon, and you'll always be my number one. I never told you this because I was afraid of things changing, but I shouldn't be. Change is good and that's how a new normal can come about.”

He finally cracked a smile. “God, I'm an idiot,” he said softly. He was going to say something else but shut his mouth when you used your finger to angle his head and kiss him.

It was awkward since he was sitting and you were standing, but he was quick to pull you down onto his lap. The kiss spoke more than actual words. You knew he wanted you and vice-versa. You guys loved each other and didn't have to be afraid anymore. The kiss was filled with passion as your lips moved in sync and tongues explored. It probably wouldn't have escalated from there, but you would never know. The kiss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a camera. You turned and saw both of your mother's.

Letting out a small yelp, you threw yourself off Jihoon. In the process, you tripped over your own foot and fell on your back. “You guys are so embarrassing!” Jihoon cried out as he quickly helped you up.

“Hey! Let us be happy!” his mother exclaimed. “Do you know how long we've waited for this? We've been wanting you two to end up together since you were kids.”

You sighed. “You got your wish, happy?” you asked. They nodded and you shook your head slightly. “We're going to bed, now, so goodnight.”

All of you went to your respective rooms. You pecked Jihoon's lips one last time before turning to go to your room. Jihoon grabbed your wrist and spun you around, crashing his lips onto your own. Once again, you got distracted and lost in the kiss.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” he said softly as you went to your room, making your insides melt.

You both shut your doors and let out dreamy sighs before climbing into bed, ready for whatever the rest of the summer had in store for you guys.

[el-dibidibidorado1]

Untamed pt.2

Summery: Y/n works at Tom's Diner as a waitress, but what happens when one of her co workers saves her life.

A/n: Well I really have nothing to say but to enjoy this new chapter. It was really tough to write, but if there is any problems or concerns please, pretty please message me and i will do my best to fix it. BYE BYE BYE!!!

Warnings: Language 

Parings: Bucky x Y/n 

"Y/n it is 8! You are going to be late!"

"I'm going!" My day off went over my head fast that the sandman never arrived at my house. Honestly, i just spent them staring at the wrapped Adam presents that I got for him for Christmas. I can't return them, can i?

"Y/n!" My brother yelled at me and his Bigfoot feet stomped upstairs. He blew open my door and began pulling me out.

"Come On! I'm going to be late!"

"Shut up! " I take my arm out of his grasp and kiss my mother goodbye.

"Edward! Kiss your mother goodbye!" She yells.

Ed runs and gives her a quick kiss and runs out. The both of us sigh with the fact that he's going to come home intoxicated or high. And the thing that troubled me is that my mom is going to attend to his needs. I finally lost my last nerve and was ready to explode.

"You are a piece of shit" I muttered as I got in the car. He turned to look at me with serious look.

"Almost every fucking night you go out to get high or drunk!" I disclosed without hesitation.

"That is my business, not yours."

"It is my business."

"It's not"

"It is. Mom has been taking care of you every time you come home from your night out. You don't even help her or say ‘i appreciate you taking care of me’.  You just come home shit faced Ed and she sacrificed another night for you " I felt the tears coming, and I hated it. I hate that I cry every time I get all emotional. I fucking despise it!

"Just take me to Tom's. I'm going to be late." He might be the oldest one but he acts like child. The conversation never proceeded, and I am glad it didn't. I wouldn't be able to control my mouth if it did. I love him, but he has made many mistakes, a bit more than me. Every one makes mistakes, but Maybe, that is our thing, we both make mistakes for a living.

We arrive and I open to get out when he grabbed me into a bone crushing hug. As my anger took a hike, I was going to hug him back he pushed me out, closed the door and speed off. Oh God, please help him.

I take a few breathers and walk into the Diner taking off my coat and beanie. The Diner was practically empty. Which I didn't mind, at all! Less people to communicate with.

"Hey girl" I felt a light slap on my butt. Rosie.

"Hey craziness" I began cleaning the tables.

"Why you mad again?" She questioned while fixing he lipstick.

"I'm not mad."

"Your face is screwed up like you're mad."

"I'm perturbed, not mad" I put the rag down and looked at her. And she looked at me. Then it became a little staring contest. Which I guess that I won?

"You still look mad" she broke the stare and continues fixing her lips.

"Whatever"

"You wanna talk about it?" She put down her lipstick and took out her miniature hair spray. Where the fuck does she hide all of this?

"No. What's the point. I'm just going to become a crying mess like always and Tom is going to have to get all...Blagh and I don't want to deal with it today."

"All 'Blagh'?" She tried to hold back a laugh.

"You know what I mean!" I throw her the wet rag. That's when I notice that it began soaking her hair and face. I really didn't squeeze all of the water out, did i? I stealthily began to move to the back room to hide. A loud sigh and chuckle came out of her as she began looking for me. I try to hide in the spice closet which was next to the dish washer. Look, I'm a bit chunky so I can't hide in small places. Also, the lay out of the diner was peculiar. So...yeah.

"Where are you, you bitch?" She demanded.

"I just finished fixing my hair and lips! Then ya throw your filthy rag at me?" She got closer to the closet and I push myself farther away from the opening. My nerves are going silly, when Tom, ‘my savior’ called her. Thank you Tom! I wasn't going to get the end of it. I lean back and let the moment pass with a quiet laughter. Then my mind began to ramble on about Ed. No, no, no Y/n. You need to concentrate on work. And making Rosie go nuts with her hair. I laugh once more and slowly come out, when I get startled and scream. God it was the cleaning guy. I guess that I startled him that he jumped, but also winced. We both looked down and found a kitchen knife in his hand.

"Oh God!" I rush over and start to panic waving my hands in the air. He slowly takes out the knife and I began to lose it even more. I scramble to get the First Aid and bring him to the sink

"Come here" my voice quaked. I turn on the faucet and slowly take his hand under the water. I expected him to flinch but he didn't. I quickly glance at him and he gives me a small grin and it makes me calm down.

"I'm so sorry" I said while i was letting the water wipe away all of the blood. I slowly run my thumb over the wound to take away all of the dirt and a sticky substance was on his hands. It wasn't from here, it was like syrup or something.

"Luckily it wasn't a deep cut. You'll live, but if the bleeding doesn't stop ask Jim or Tom to take you to the hospital" God his hand is beautiful.

"Thank you" he whispers and it brought a small smile to my face.

"Anytime. I'm sorry again and I never caught your name. Tom Isn't really a good introduces." I asked while I drying his hand.

"Bucky. Bucky Barnes" he quickly said. I guess he doesn't like to talk. Keep it minimal Y/n. I grabbed the ointment and gently placed some on the wound. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

"Well Bucky, I was wondering what this syrup on your hands is?" I asked quietly. Could help yourself, huh? My nerves get to me and I become a chatter box or completely mute.

"Pine trees. I work where they sell pine trees for Christmas." I looked at him and he had the most angelic ocean blue eyes that I have ever seen. My face became heated and I looked for the bandage. Turning around looking for them like a lost child looking for its guardian. Where are they? I looked on the floor, sink, pocket and they just magically disappear. Where in the hell is it!? I just had it! This is so embarrassing, I just had it! After a few minutes of self-war his left hand came to view with the bandage. He seemed to read my mind or did he just hide them from me? I glanced at him and took them. That's when I notice his left hand had a glove on.

"What's with the glove?" I question and ended up regretting it. Shut up, pleeeeeeease. Why would you ask that!? Why? Why?! WHY?! look darlin he's cute and shit but-but- why?! Just w-

"I don't know, i just like it" he chuckled.

"You don't like them? The pine trees." He was now talking more which made me feel better.

"Oh I love them. You know you smell like a pine tree."

"You don't like the smell or?"

"I love the smell the most. I could just stick a star on your head by how heavenly you smell" YOU FUCKING CREEP. WHY? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT? He just chuckled as I tormented myself.

"Do you have one?" I nodded and finally finished wrapping the bandage.

"Why?" He softly touched the bandage.

"We got this stupid artificial tree. Which I completely HATE. I just wish i could throw the fake away and bring back the real one." I said while putting away the first aid.

"Well, all done. Just make sure to check on it." I rub my hands together.

" We should head back to work" he says. I nod and go find Rosie or Caroline.

---------------

Really Barnes?! We should head back to work?! You could have talked to her a bit more about- about- um- ab-about something. You just told her to piss off. I mentally battle myself and bang my hand on the counter making me hiss. 

“‘Bucky clean table 7!” Tom shouted. i grabbed the gray dish container and began heading out, when I see her talking to Rosie.

"Babe?" She hums.

"Why don't you go, give them a piece of your mind?"

"Me?" She had this annoyed look. I put the container on the next table and notice what Rosie was speaking of. Two guys at the cigarette machines kept of hitting and cursing at it, as it swallowed its change. I began cleaning as she came up and asked politely to quit hitting the machine.

"Is it your machine?" The taller one had a siut under his brown coat and short greasy hair. While the short one was bald and has some random jacket with a long sleeve shirt and jeans.

"As a matter of fact, it is. So would you please stop hitting it" her voice was stern as they kicked it one more.

"Is that so?" The short one said and she dangles the keys in front of her. She unlocks the door and pulls the lever to release the one that got stuck and hands it to them.

"This isn't the right one" the taller one says and began to hold in a laugh. I began to get angry.

"Which one?" Her jaw clenched.

"Marlboro" she takes out the package and hands it to them.

"Lights" she sighs and hands him another. I clenched my fist.

"Sorry, sweets menthol" her jaw clenched again and she takes the last package out and they gladly accept them. I feel and hear my arm began to shift and once more do Steve's exercise.

"Thanks" she closed the machine and gives Rosie the keys and the other packages.

"Bucky. What's a matter? Come on, I don't pay you to stand around." Tom clapped his hands infront of my face and I deep inside wanted to punch him. Hold it in Bucky. Just like Steve taught you. I close my eyes and began taking deep breaths.

When I open my eyes both of the guys are on the table next to me. Annoyed, I finish the table and move to the next.

"How may I help you?" Mary asked them.

"Yes. We would like Y/n to wait us" soon as I heard that I slammed my left hand on the table making a huge smack.

"Hey man, you okay over there?" I hear Jim ask. I nod my head and look at the table. Desultory I remove my hand and notice a dent in the table.

"What do you need?" Y/n mellifluous voice reeled me to her.

"How have you been Y/n" the short one asked untoward.

"Do I know you two?" She snapped.

"Don't you remember us? From Tiny Tess party? Halloween? You dressed up as a.....a....you know."

"An Superhero" she mumbled.

"Right a superhero. Well I am Shawn And this here is Howard" the short one introduced themselves.

"Well are you guys going to order or?" She asked impatiently.

"Just two burgers with a milkshake, darlin" he winked and she walked away. There eyes never left her and it bugged the hell out of me. So i followed their sight and they were looking at Y/n' s body. My hand clenched even more that I felt blood leak through.

"Bucky?" I turned to be faced with Y/n. My anger relaxed. How long have I been staring at them? I'm not blacking out again, am i?

"Your hand" she gently holds it and brings me to the nearest faucet. I take in all of her facial expressions, her peach scent, her big e/c eyes and her beautiful lips. She unwrapped the bandage and once again she gently holds it under the faucet.

"Be careful. It's not bleeding as much, so that's g-"

"Table three!" She huffed and looked at me.

"Duty calls. Rosie can you bandage him up. Please" Rosie comes and Y/n washes her hands to go get the food.

"Bunch of jerks, huh" Rosie says. I grunt and look back at Y/n as she takes the food to them.

"She's a tough cookie. She can handle it." She finished the bandage and continues refilling the salt shakers. I still kept my eye on her. Just to be safe.

----------------------

"I'm going home" I told Rosie as I put on my coat and hat.

"Bye baby" Rosie dances over to me and I can't help but laugh.

"Come On girl. Sing with me before you leave" grabbing the bag out of my hands and began moving her hips.

"No" I laughed louder. Midi, Maxi& Efti- Bad bad boys began playing in the background.

"~Bad bad boys come with me, come with me~" she put her hands on my hips and violently moved them back and forth. Now I was crying because of my laughter. I swatted her hands away and grabbed my bag and left.

Looking at my watch it said 3 am. ~Ooohhh the haunting hour~ I laugh by myself. Ah man I'm so lame. I'm half ways my walk home when an old beat up car violently stops next to me. Frighten, i began to walk quicker. The car reverses and I finally see who it is. Those two jackasses from the diner. Fuck me.

Tags: @tnupsweetpie

[lichtweh]

Hai~ for the prompts~ J-"So, how did you two meet?" 5-"Don't just stand there, run!" 31-"I did?"

this is.. a 2.6k drabble. ok,,,

here’s yoonkook, some confusion, and some fraud (ao3)

__________________________________________

“so, how did you two meet?”

the smile on the woman’s face is saccharine sweet, polite, straight teeth and red lipstick. she has a pleasant face, aged elegantly, maybe in her 50s but not quite looking it. her hair is put up immaculately, glimmering accessories in shiny black locks, pearl earrings dangling with the interested tilt of her head.

yoongi thinks of his post on that admittedly questionable site. finding someone willing had been easy— finding the right person, someone who met all requirements, hadn’t.

“our friends—”

“in a bar—”

“our mutual friends introduced us when we were out, at a bar.”

yoongi recalls agreeing on a friendly get-together, but maybe it’s the nerves now getting it mixed up, it’s alright for the first time. still, yoongi shifts his weight on his other foot, lets his shoulder subtly touch the other’s. the boy next to him quickly jumps on it, nodding his agreement.

“right, through our friends.”

yoongi can’t remember who this woman is. probably someone’s mother, or someone’s aunt, or someone’s brother’s neighbor’s wife. she’s not a direct member of the bride’s or groom’s family, the names were different, but beyond that, yoongi has no idea. he thinks her name started with h. maybe j. this conversation has been going on too long.

“ah, that’s lovely, mutual friends—” she smiles genuinely, then lets it falter a bit to knit her eyebrows together. “excuse me if i remember wrong, jihoon-ssi— you were… hyojong’s senior…?”

“hyojong’s, right,” yoongi nods pleasantly, waves his hand around to play it down, “we weren’t too close, really, obviously he wouldn’t mention everyone he knows. he’s doing so well now, isn’t he? we haven’t talked to him yet, we should definitely take the time.” he looks over to his companion, catches the boy’s pretty, big eyes, who nods enthusiastically.

the woman glances between them, smile twitching but still so very polite. yoongi has a weird feeling about it. she doesn’t let up, though, directs her attention away from yoongi.

“and you two have been together how long?”

“three—”

“four years.”

the boy’s voice sounds airy, almost timid in nature; or maybe it’s that he’s barely spoken all evening, fortunately for yoongi. he has to backtrack.

“four already?” yoongi curls his lips into a smirk, snakes a hand around the boy’s back to let it rest on his waist. he’s dressed well, dress shirt tucked into his slacks, leather belt on display. it’s warm in the crowded hall, so his suit jacket is hanging around his arm. his waist is— thin, his overall shape slender, but body toned, athletic, a sporty type. he’s been drawing attention all night. yoongi’s, too, if he were honest. he’s not blind.

yoongi catches the guy’s eyes, smile teasing, fingers pressing into his side, “i didn’t realize it’s been that long,” leans in close, suggestively, “it still feels like the first day.”

which may be the first true statement yoongi’s made in hours.

the boy does well; bashfully lowers his gaze, bites down a smile. there’s a bit of pink high on his cheeks, his nose. it’s charming. effective.

yoongi hears the woman’s quiet oh, but turns his head a bit further back, somewhere beyond his date’s shoulder.

“hey, isn’t that hyojong? we should go over and say hello,” yoongi inclines his head towards the lady apologetically, pushes them both away from her. “if you would excuse us— it was a pleasure talking to you.”

yoongi navigates them through the crowd, out of her sight. the reception is big enough that they don’t really stand out among the horde of people in their fancy suits and gowns, talking, laughing, halfway to tipsy with the free champagne. he grabs two glasses, offers one to the boy on his heels.

“still nervous?”

yoongi snorts quietly as the other downs the drink at once, grabs another from a waiter hurrying past. downs that one, too, as yoongi watches in amusement.

“it’s a bit,” he starts breathlessly, looks yoongi up and down out of the corner of his eyes; clears his throat, “different from theory.”

finding him had taken a while: yoongi had needed someone spontaneous, witty, low morals but up for a challenge and a whole lot of fun. most importantly though, yoongi had needed someone… “you look good.” —fitting.

finding jungkook was a stroke of luck.

jungkook’s pretty eyes widen a bit at the compliment, his whole body seems to tense a bit. he drops his gaze, although he tries his best not to. he’s beautiful, endearing; it’s easy, like this.

“you too,” jungkook breathes with a certain edge to it, and yoongi feels the hair raise on his skin. too easy.

he steps closer, closer, toes to toes so he can lower his voice, “you claimed you couldn’t act.”

jungkook’s eyes are half-lidded, low on yoongi’s mouth when he speaks, not backing away, “i did?”

“you did,” yoongi hums thoughtfully, touches one hand back to jungkook’s waist again. “but you’re playing your part well.”

jungkook wets his lips, meets yoongi’s eyes meaningfully. “you too.”

yoongi had tried doing this alone, which wasn’t nearly as fun as this: he’d been caught up in too many conversations, disbelieving chuckles, flirty looks, demands to dance anyway. he’d tried going with a female friend, but that had been a lot of awkward fumbling, weak smiles and unnatural touches. some painful reminders of him faking his way through high school like that. so.

yoongi had needed someone who’d make behaving like a couple with each other easier, and none of his friends had qualified. it would’ve required either an actor, a con artist, or— well, someone with whom the mutual attraction thing maybe didn’t take quite as much acting.

jungkook is slowly snaking a hand up along yoongi’s button-up to thumb at the collar, yoongi’s attention drawn to it. “who’s hyojong?”

“who knows?”

jungkook’s smile is pretty; boyish, infectious, lips a cotton candy pink. there’s that tempting mole beneath them that had immediately caught yoongi’s attention in the pictures. jungkook in front of him is much more beautiful than in pictures though, his voice sweeter than over the phone, his body— nothing had prepared yoongi for jungkook’s toned body. in formal wear.

“hyung,” yoongi had wanted someone his age, but jungkook murmuring that word hesitantly, teasingly, has a certain heat flare in yoongi’s gut. “dance with me.”

yoongi huffs goodnaturedly, means to step back from the boy a little, but jungkook’s fingers close around his lapel.

“we’re here for the free food and alcohol, not to make a fool out of me.”

“you attend weddings as a pastime and want to tell me you can’t dance?”

jungkook pulls, pulls, with his fingers and voice and his eyes glinting mischievously. “i want to dance, jihoon-ssi.”

yoongi bites the inside of his cheek, feels his stomach do some kind of weird flip. jungkook said he’d never done anything like this before, but suddenly seems way too confident with this specific part right here.

yoongi really only wanted the buffet, and a slice of stupidly pricey wedding cake. there’s something bubbling up in his chest, warm, but he’s only had one champagne some hours ago so that can’t be it. he swallows hard.

he thinks it’s a terrible idea to have their bodies this close for even longer, but—

“can’t say no to my boyfriend, can i,” and yoongi squeezes jungkook’s waist reproachfully, moves them towards the dance area with a soft gasp from jungkook’s lips, “soonyoung-ah?”

jungkook giggles, his nose scrunching up cutely. cutely. yoongi thinks it’s a bit unfair. a bit— more than he bargained for.

slow dancing with jungkook seems easy enough. yoongi knows the motions, has gone through them more often than he cares to remember; his partners usually shorter, more petite; long hair, lipstick, high heels yoongi’s feet remember as dangerous. jungkook is— not as petite, not as soft beneath his grip. it’s difficult in a slightly different way.

jungkook has his hands on yoongi’s shoulders first, yoongi could swear it’s where they were, but they seem to wander; the ghost of a touch at his nape, fingers playing at his collar, and then jungkook is too close, arms locked around yoongi’s neck. yoongi can’t remember whether this is that kind of event.

they’re swaying gently with their steps, jungkook graceful on his feet, and it’s not clear who’s leading at all. yoongi’s stomach swoops pleasantly.

then jungkook brushes their hips together, eyes sparkling playfully, and yoongi kind of chokes on air. that is more— much more than he’d expected.

“j— darling,” yoongi raises his brows in question, one corner of his mouth in interest, “i don’t think this is the right time for that.”

jungkook wets his lips, raises his chin, looks down in challenge like that. “but later is fine, is what you’re saying?”

yoongi swallows, mouth dry. well. he hadn’t intended that, but—

he glances around them quickly, but nobody seems to be paying attention to what they’re doing. nobody— except that older lady who’d questioned them for too long.

she’s standing some ways off to the side, clearly looking at them— brows furrowed, whispering to a couple of men. they all look towards yoongi and jungkook, and yoongi knows they have to go.

he pretends not to have noticed, grabs jungkook by the hand. “time to leave, play it cool.”

yoongi pulls jungkook through the dancing couples, past the groups of inebriated siblings, friends, singles. he spots the exit with his eyes when jungkook speaks up.

“my jacket—” he stops, turning to look to where they’d left his suit jacket on a chair, “i forgot to—”

“i got it, wait outside.”

yoongi curses internally but goes back for it when the group of men, persistent woman in tow, enter his sight again. he grabs the damn thing, turns on his heel and hurries towards the doors, jungkook hopefully waiting for him outside.

he spots jungkook at the buffet to his side.

“what are you—” yoongi whispers as he comes up next to him, hands trying to push the boy into motion. jungkook’s quickly stuffing his face with some of the bite-sized expensive chocolate desserts. it’s— kind of cute, kind of dumb as shit.

“excuse us, jihoon-ssi, soonyoung-ssi?”

yoongi shoves the entire plate into jungkook’s hands, turns him around forcibly; hisses, “don’t just stand there, run!”

he half-heartedly waves without looking, “i’m very sorry, but he isn’t well, so if you would excuse us!”

“wait—”

yoongi doesn’t wait to hear the rest of it, hurries out of the banquet hall after jungkook, who keeps glancing back at him, scandalized voices fading behind them. they all but run once outside, yoongi taking the lead, around corners and down hallways, out into the cool night— and then further, push past other guests smoking in the alley to the side, further, jungkook’s hand back in his, until they can slip into the throng of people filling the main street.

they slow down, breathe, but don’t stop until yoongi’s lead them to his car, parked in a side street a block away. yoongi leans against the passenger door, exhaling heavily, and jungkook’s still holding onto the stolen plate of calorie bombs, which he carefully places on top of the car’s roof when he remembers.

then they burst out laughing, jungkook all but doubling over.

“that was—” he starts, but doesn’t make it through the sentence, giggling breathlessly.

“i’m not even sure why we ran, i mean—” yoongi’s smile is wide, wider than ever, heart loud in his ears. he can’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

“what could they have done except kick us out?” jungkook’s bright laugh is stunning, beautiful, all joy and wild youth. breathtaking, kind of; yoongi’s out of breath.

jungkook bounces on his heels, excitement visible, giggles around one of the snacks he pops into his mouth. then he steps closer, takes another one— daringly reaches up to press it to yoongi’s. and yoongi— yoongi’s mouth is dry, heart and lungs still going too fast, still or again, he doesn’t know— he opens up, slowly, watches jungkook’s eyes on his own mouth as he licks the chocolate piece in, jungkook’s fingers catching on his bottom lip. jungkook inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as he tries to tear his gaze away.

“hyung,” he breathes, out of air, too much tension, and he sways, sways closer until yoongi catches him; curls a hand around his neck, a finger around his belt, lets him stand between his legs.

yoongi pulls him in when he closes his eyes, presses his lips to jungkook’s hesitantly first. they’re soft, warm, feel like what jungkook looks like— and then jungkook presses back, bold, parts his lips to fit yoongi’s between them. yoongi feels a hand slide up his chest, under his jacket, press into his side.

“i got your jacket,” yoongi mumbles between them, said piece of clothing still slung around his arm.

“thanks,” jungkook mumbles back, gently runs his teeth over yoongi’s bottom lip.

yoongi pulls back to look, but it’s kind of a bad choice. jungkook’s carefully parted hair is now somewhat messy, a flush to his cheeks, lips slick and red. jungkook looks at him questioningly, looks like he’s going to say something self-conscious, unsure of himself. yoongi leans back in.

jungkook gasps softly and yoongi licks into his mouth, swallows his whimper, combs his fingers through his dark hair.

“we can try talking it out next time?” yoongi’s muttering into the corner of jungkook’s mouth, kissing along his bottom lip, the mole beneath.

jungkook laughs shakily, “next time?” just some shallow puffs of air, “isn’t this here like half the fun?”

“mhm,” yoongi hums, licks back into his mouth, slides his tongue against his, “you’ve done well,” arousal and hope in his gut, “so if you want—”

jungkook shivers obviously, lets something of a tiny moan slip, digging his fingers into yoongi’s clothes. then he presses his hips against yoongi’s, in between his legs, pushing him against the car.

“is it later now?”

yoongi’s brain is all over the place, all over jungkook, so he needs a bit to remember. he remembers their dance.

yoongi bites jungkook’s lip with a smirk, bucks his hips into the boy’s.

“wanna come to my place and debrief?”

jungkook tries to chuckle but kind of whimpers with yoongi moving up against him, paying him back for the teasing before.

“is that the codeword we’re using?”

jungkook dives back in to kiss yoongi again, again, until yoongi has to stop them from doing anything more out on a public street slumped against his car.

yoongi can’t believe what kind of stroke of luck that was. jungkook was, is.

“i was trying to be subtle.”

“not very subtle, hyung,” jungkook’s eyes are hot on yoongi’s mouth, jaw, somewhere beneath his belt; yoongi has to push him off, has to breathe, just a bit. he offers jungkook his jacket back, opens the passenger’s door in invitation.

jungkook throws him a last suggestive glance before he gets in, biting down on a grin. yoongi hands him the plate of stolen sugary goods before he hurries to get behind the wheel and away from here. jungkook’s strapped in, cheeks full of chocolate again, and, alright— it’s cute as fuck, and maybe something stirs in yoongi’s chest. but yoongi won’t tell him that yet.

maybe next time, or the next, or the one after that, or— some day far in the future. yoongi has a feeling they’ll have more opportunities to work out the specifics.

[matthillica]

Pandemic - Day 355

This week marks 1 year since Covid was declared a Pandemic in the US.

As things began to shut down and the world changed before our eyes last March, I picked up this blog again thinking it would be interesting to document. At the time, although we hadn't told anyone yet, my wife was three months pregnant with our second child. My daughter was about to turn two. What better way, I thought, to show my kids what Covid was like than to document the pandemic's course as we muddled our way through daily uncertainty.

What I hadn't counted on was the duration and depth of the pandemic. I figured we'd be locked down in quarantine for three months, tops… maybe six if things were handled poorly. 

As the novelty of Covid and prepping pantries and Covid memes began to wear off, we learned more about how Covid is actually transmitted. That meant aspects of our lives went back to normal while other abnormal aspects became second nature. Fear subsided, somewhat. I no longer stressed as much about grocery store trips. We still wear masks everywhere, but aren't afraid of Covid lurking behind every corner. For the most part, we understand that by taking a few simple steps, we can protect ourselves and our family from this disease.

Then in May came George Floyd, which took a world already turned on its head and lit a fire underneath it. A summer of protests against police brutality followed, then the politicization of masks, racial tension, and the most heated election cycle in my memory, all capped off by a coup attempt… the year we found ourselves living through became about so much more than just a pandemic.

The overwhelming was soon mired in disinformation and propaganda and the overwhelming-ness of it all became too overwhelming to even care about documenting, even for posterity.

I quit updating. Who gave a shit anyway? Certainly not me. I had bigger fish to fry than documenting the slow motion train wreck. I shared pics from my Instagram when I felt like it. I helped my Mom move from Kansas to Atlanta and then we packed up and moved to a new house ourselves. This was a welcome distraction from the horrible world, but Covid never really leaves your consciousness. It's always there, especially in weird, unexpected moments. This guy is trying to talk to me and he's getting too close but I don't want to offend him. I just filled up with gas and I'm all out of hand sanitizer, so I drive home reminding myself not to touch my face for the entire 15 minute ride. Mom wants to go to the salon, but I’m worried about exposure because my wife and her father are both high risk and I’m afraid to offend her by saying something. You're always thinking about it. How could you not? Covid is always there, always forcing you to adjust your life and habits around it.

With over 500,000 dead at this point in the US alone, the story of our little pandemic lives seemed so miniscule and, quite frankly, blessed. Sure, we'd lost income due to my unemployment, but our family managed to stay healthy (so far) and happy and together. We had it so much better than so many.

But then I have days like today where small things just rip me apart.

I got my car stuck in the mud in our backyard trying to unload a toolbox in our basement the other day and now I can't get it out of the goddamn grass. It's now sat there for three days while I waited for the ground to dry out so I could try again. I decided this morning to try and get it out by laying a cardboard path of old moving boxes. It was a massive failure that only succeeded in creating more muddy ruts, my car even more stuck now than it was this morning.

I sat in my driver's seat this morning… yelling at my stupid tires and two-wheel-drive, pounding on the steering wheel; the weight of all these little thoughts and worries crashing in around me. My daughter's entire second year was spent inside a fucking house. My son is already getting his first teeth and has only met six people. My hands have been cracked and bleeding for 12 months from constant hand washing. I haven't had a haircut in a year. I haven't seen some of my closest friends in over a year. I have a niece in Las Vegas who I was supposed to meet in March 2020 when she was four months old… now she's walking and talking. My friend lost her uncle and father to Covid in the same month. My other friend has been suffering with Covid for almost two months. My brother caught Covid in September shadowing home inspections to become a certified inspector because MGM’s shows were all closed. I haven't seen my father in a year and he’s 71 and lives by himself. The last time we were together (a year ago this week) he helped me buy a handgun for protection. Political division, social unrest, and America's tenuous grip on democracy. What kind of world did I just bring children into? Are we gonna make it?

I know there is light, but there are days when it still feels pretty damn dark.

And I guess that's where I'm at, mentally speaking. Exhausted. Sad. Grateful. So incredibly grateful. Even when the exhaustion takes over and guts me, I remind myself to be grateful. I'm grateful that the pandemic hasn't been worse for us as it has for so many others. I'm grateful that I've been able to cobble together an income off freelance work. I'm grateful that my kids are happy and healthy, not to mention too young to remember any of this shit once it's over. I’m grateful that I've learned to cook. I'm grateful that my wife and I still love each other. I'm grateful for family who have helped us navigate being working parents without daycare. I'm grateful that my parents and my wife's parents have been vaccinated. I'm grateful that now an end is in sight. When that end will be for us, I'm still not sure, but at least we know it's coming. And for that, I am grateful.

Now we brace for a return to "normalcy", whatever that means… and however long it takes. A regular topic of conversation in my house is what the first restaurant we eat inside will be. Or what vacation we'll take first. These all still feel very aspirational to me, but at least we're aspiring, I guess. In my mind, I'm ready to burst out of my unfinished basement office and folding table desk to tackle the world again. I'm ready to dive into another marketing department somewhere, go see a concert in the front row, take my kid to the aquarium so she can see the fish she only remembers from pictures. In my mind, I'm ready for all of these things and telling myself that attitude is everything.

But in my heart I know that it will probably be a long time before I can eat comfortably at a restaurant again, stand next to a stranger on a train, or sit in an airplane with other passengers without it doing a number on my head. In my heart I know that the first time I experience live music again, go to a museum, watch my child take in the majesty of a real shark, or feel the hug of a friend I've only seen over Zoom for 12+ months, I will be reduced to a puddle. And that's OK. I expect there are many, many others who feel exactly the same way and will be going through the same thing.

Still, if there's one thing the last year has taught me, it's that the abyss of the unknown is crossable and I'm ready to cross it, for better or for worse.