#Mia got more attention cause I had no idea how I wanted to draw her

[mangosno]

I MIGHT BE COOKING SOMETHING but no promises any time soon.

This team of characters have literally been stewing in my brain inconsistently for the past 15 years, probably from when I first finished playing PMD Rescue Team Red.

[aquamarinescarlet]

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

[s1ater]

highschool rivals, part one. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader believes hawk is fucking with her when saying he does karate, but he won’t prove otherwise, no matter how much she begs.

warning/s 🚫: swearing, UNEDITED, MAJOR CRINGE

slater’s note 🗯: au where robby and miguel and hawk are all friends. this is kind of a crack fic because reader really just wants to get punched in the face and it doesn’t make sense

part one, part two

hawk is a pussy.

that’s all you could think as you walked down the west valley high school halls, searching.

for what? hawk.

where? you didn’t know.

you didn’t even go to the high school but rather the private one on the richer side of LA, east high private school for exceptional girls. you had your school uniform still on, the blue plaid skirt they made you wear swished around your waist as you marched down the blue tiled halls.

the idea of finding hawk seemed to be a lot easier in your head then when it was put into motion, it was like you had completely dismissed the fact that you had never been in west valley high, and you had only met this boy two weeks ago.

you had been parked up on the north carige hills, looking over the city lights with your friends when a silver beamer with tinted windows pulled up and parked right next to you, three boys and their siloettes inhabiting the inside of the new looking car.

it wasn’t long till they rolled down the passenger side window causing a chain reaction of you and your friend who sat in the backseat to do the same.

it revealed a teenaged boy with spiky red hair and a loud looking smirk on his face, an angry red scar that resembled lightning struck up the tip of his top lip.

“how’re we doing this evening, ladies?”

“oh dear god,” your friend harper mumbled under her breath from the passenger seat, the only one without her window down.

you chuckled lightly, glancing at the already annoyed brunette, before drawing your attention back to the boy and his friends.

“fine,” you nodded in a more upbeat tone then your friend, “and you?”

“good,” he nodded his head before looking between his friends, “say, you up for some car hoping?”

the answer was obviously yes and as soon as it was offered, mia, your other friend, practically hoped out of the backseat and into their own.

“depends,” harper shouted over your shoulder before anyone made a move, “how much weed do you got in that nice car of yours?”

he rolled his eyes, looking back to the boy in the drivers seat, a boy with tan skin and hair gelled up like all teen boys. he was smiling, and then shrugged when the boy with the mohawk looked to him.

“just get in.”

the night felt like a fever dream. immediately after your exited your own car, locking the door, you were shoved into the lap of the mohawk boy, not literally but it all felt quick enough to be a shove in the situation.

there had seemed to be no space in the back, another boy and your two friends already seated and buckled.

harper smiled up at you innocently after rolling down the window, “oh no, whatever will we do?”

“you can sit on my lap, princess.”

you rolled your eyes, thinking about if you had never gotten into that car or sat on mohawk boys lap, you wouldn’t be in the stupid situation you were in now. and it wasn’t really a situation, but more of a problem.

the sound of your ringtone echoed from the inside of your skirt pocket, you grasped the rectangle shaped devise before sighing, seeing the contact name ‘mia’.

“hello?”

“are you actually here?”

you exhaled while pinching the bridge of your nose, “yes.”

“no way, y/n, you’re fucking crazy.”

mia went to west valley high unlike you and harper, she was considered ‘the public school trash’ of your friend group, a long going joke ever since freshman year for the three of you.

she had never met hawk or miguel or robby, the boys you had acquainted in the silver beamer. which wouldn’t make sense until you actually got to meet her and how antisocial she was until she was around you and harper.

she was ditsy, clumsy, but could never put herself in very confrontational situations unless you or harper were there.

“he’s a pussy, mia.”

“so you just showed up?” she cried as you nodded even though she couldn’t see you, her own head shaking back and forth in disbelief at how impulsive you could be with your decisions, “and now you’re going to kick his ass... just because he wouldn’t kick yours?”

“c’mon mia, there is no way this boy actually knows karate, and if he did, why wouldn’t he at least try me?”

“y/n, you’re crazy!” she yelled in your ear but then it’s real silent causing you to frown, narrowing your brows.

“mia, he’s a pussy.”

“y/n, you’re crazy,” she repeated, but this time in a whisper, “and you’re also a female... who he made out with.”

your cheeks redden and you pressed your phone closer to the side of your face out of consciousness. it made you roll your eyes at how easily self conscious and embarrassed you got just at the thought of him and his body pressed against yours.

“female, mia, female. it’s 2021, how sexist could he be?” you said after a long pause, completely skipping over the part of ‘who he made out with’.

“where are you-“ the sound of the bell made her stop mid sentence, her eyes tracing the clock, “wait, y/n, wait for me before you make anymore crazy decisions.”

you rolled your eyes, hanging up the phone without any hesitation.

people begun to fill the hallway, squishing you tighter and tighter until you felt like you were in an impact box.

and even in that tight impact box, you could make out hawk’s stupid red mohawk bouncing through the air as he walked the opposite way you did, completely oblivious to the path he was about to cross, and the large storm heading his way.

you grabbed onto his arm, yanking him into the flow of your river, surprising him as well as miguel, who was previously by hawk’s side... until he wasn’t. his head stuck out from the opposite side of the hall, shock and confusion written in his face as he kept walking, there would be no stopping in a high school hallway.

“what the fuck man- y/n?” he looked like he was about to swing and you almost wished he did, but he recognized you way too fast, “what’re you doing here, princess?”

“don’t ‘princess’ me,” you taunted, “punch me in the face.”

“what?”

“punch me in the face.”

“y/n, we’ve been over this,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look at you, now knowing how ridiculous the conversation you were about to have would be.

“yeah a week ago,” you said, falling into step with him, and he looks over to you with a look of unbelievability, scoffing before looking away from you again.

“what?”

“you’re fucking crazy.”

“you’re the one lying about doing karate,” you say, looking up to him causing him to scoff again.

“why would i lie about that?”

“you tell me mohawk boy.”

“shut up, i’m not punching you in the face.”

“who even does karate anymore anyways?” you mumbled more to yourself then him as the two of you continued to hustle down the hallway.

“shut up, babe,” he mumble right back, “you’re just mad i won’t touch you.”

“shut up, you couldn’t get enough of me last week,” you shot back, almost wanting to look at him and glare, but you kept looking forward, keeping your composure.

“please, you were the one-“

“y/n!”

before hawk could finish his sentence, mia appeared from around the corner, her hands out lifted in the air as if to question why you were actually standing five feet away from her.

you rolled your eyes while hawk raised his brows in question.

“you’re actually crazy!”

“that’s what i’m saying.”

“y/n, i thought i saw your face,” miguel rounded the corner out of no where, his hands stuffed in his pockets while a small smile was printed on his face.

you look to all three of the teenagers that stood before you, your mind whirling around as you tried to comprehend the words that came spitting from their mouths.

“slow down,” you raised your both your hands, giving each of them pointed looks, “one, i’m not crazy, two, you’re the one crazy because you’re most definitely lying about doing karate, and three,” your face softened as you turned to miguel, giving him a smile, “hi miguel.”

he smiled back before laughing, his chest vibrating up and down, looking to hawk, “yeah, hawk, why you gotta lie like that?”

“shut up.”

“just punch me in the face.”

“no,” he practically yelled, glaring at you, “shut up.”

“why not?”

“because it’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard and if you don’t want to believe me, you don’t have to,” he rolled his eyes, waving you off, starting to walk down the hall again, only this time with miguel. 

you could tell that he was increasingly getting annoyed, which could only be good for you. maybe he’d finally cave. 

“so, are we hanging out this weekend?” miguel called back to you and mia, trying to break the awkward silence that settled over all four of you once you guys existed the high school and out into the parking lot. 

“i don’t know, i might be busy,” you lied, and they all rolled their eyes to the obvious snark in the back of your throat, key to your lying.

“c’mon princess,” hawk began to mumble, “we all know you have no other friends.”

“shut up,” you stopped along with mia for you had reached her car, “at least i don’t lie about doing karate.”

miguel laughed to himself, leaning against a neighboring car as hawk looked at you with annoyance, shaking his head.

“bye, guys,” miguel nodded off to you and mia as he began to walk to his car, cuing hawk to walk with him, no longer feeling like entertaining a conversation about lies and karate and all the teasing that flew out of your mouth.

you waved goodbye, your lips pursed as you watch the red dyed hair boy walk off, your mind swirling at all the stupid things you had said in the past ten minutes.

“oh one more thing,” you watched hawk stopped short, turning back around and jogging back to you and then closer and closer then before, his mouth touching the crest of your ear, “you look really hot in your school uniform.”

taglist:

comment to be tagged to future works :)

[havin-a-wee]

Stars Align

pairing: harry styles x y/n

warnings: fluff, ig you could consider it angst but its really just mysterious

word count: 2k

hello! i apologize for kind of disappearing, my fic rec account has kind of blown up and ive been super busy with that.

this is my entry for @sweetlygolden 's Harry On Holiday Challenge! i chose strangers in the same city, and the line prompt “That is the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” i honestly already have a part 2 planned out but we'll see how it goes!

“How much longer are you going to stare at that pretending like it’s interesting.”

Her soft voice surprised him, and he whipped his head around to see who had been speaking to him.

For the first time in a while, Harry was able to get away for a little. Of course, he travels a lot for work, but this was the first vacation since he can remember where he was alone, doing whatever he pleases. He chose Italy for this special occasion, because it’s always been one of his favorite places, and he missed the freedom of wandering around the boot shaped country without a care in the world.

The day's adventures had brought him to La Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna e Contemporanea, which is a museum that he's been wanting to see for quite some time. He started the day off by getting a cappuccino and a crespelle from a wonderful little cafe down the street from his hotel.

Right afterwards he walked to the museum, taking in the sights around him on the 20 minute trek to his destination. Before the woman behind him snatched his attention, he was staring at a painting of an abstract house. The house was only painted in blue, and the artist had used the different shades and tones of the color to create the details in the painting.

He had been staring at it for a good amount of time, which he assumed is what prompted the stranger to talk to him.

It’s his 3rd day on the trip, leaving him 4 more until he has to be back in L.A. for work. He has no plans, no schedules, no job to do. It’s just him and the world. At least, that’s what he assumed it would be. The vacation is supposed to be a solo one, however, he’s currently staring at a stranger that decided to speak to him. And for some reason, he is drawn to her. Compelled to spend time with her after just a simple sentence was spoken between the two of them.

When he fully turns around she jumped, a bit startled by his bright red complexion. “That is the worst sunburn I have ever seen!”

It was true, Harry had managed to get himself a nasty burn on the first day in Italy. He usually tans instead of getting a sunburn, but when you’re used to the dreary weather of the UK, it can be hard to forget how strong the sun is in other places.

So he had laid out on the beach and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later with tomato red skin and a burning sensation covering the exposed skin.

“That’s what happens when y’fall asleep on a beach in Rome,” he chuckled, smiling awkwardly at the woman before him.

She’s beautiful, there is absolutely no denying that. She was wearing a simple spaghetti-strap black dress that cut off right at the knee. There were no designs, no embellishments, just a black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her lips have a deep red lipstick smeared across them, and he couldn’t help but notice how the color complimented her skin tone. Her simple black pumps completed the outfit, and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few of the front strands falling out of the hair tie and framing her face.

“I’d assume so.” Her demeanor is serious, even though there's a smile on her face. She’s…..intimidating?

Harry hasn’t been intimidated by anything since he was a teenager. Once you perform in front of thousands of screaming people, who also happen to idolize you, things don’t tend to phase a person anymore.

But for some reason, her presence caused butterflies to fly around in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He actually enjoyed the feeling, it reminded him of when everything was normal.

What also reminded him of normality was the fact that she seems to not have the slightest clue of who he is. If she does, she’s sure as hell good at hiding it.

“You’ve been looking at the same painting for 10 minutes, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the noise agitated the fluttering butterflies residing in his tummy. Her voice is mesmerizing, and she sounds like what Harry imagines an angel to sound like. She has an American accent, and it eased his nerves slightly that she was also a tourist.

He turned back to the painting to look at it, but it was also convenient in that she wouldn’t be able to see his undoubtedly flushed cheeks.

“Yeah m’not sure what it is ‘bout it but there’s somethin’ special with this one.”

“That’s Prismi lunari by Fortunato Depero, he was very talented.” Harry spun around once again to face her, shocked at her knowledge of the random artwork.

“You know that off of the top of your head?” He tilts his head and looks at her, furrowing his brows in confusion. He’s pretty sure there was no label for the painting, and if there was it was way too small for her to see from where she’s standing.

“I know a lot of things.”

The statement was simple, but Harry wondered if her words paired with the smirk on her face are code for something else. “How long have you been here?” Her question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at her and smiled. He flicks his wrist and directs his attention to it, reading the Gucci watch adorning his wrist.

“Well I got here at 11, so about 5 hours.” It honestly surprised him when he realized it was 4 o’clock, but he knows how wrapped up he gets in artwork so he must have lost track of time.

“Jesus christ! I can barely stand to walk around a museum for an hour!” She blows out a puff of air, mocking being out of breath. They both laugh at her comment, Harry laughing a bit harder than her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! M’Harry, s’nice to meet you.” He stuck out his ring-clad hand, and her delicate fingers wrapped around his as she shook it.

“Well Harry, wanna get out of here and walk around with someone who knows the city?” She points at herself, and the small smile she gave him earlier transformed into a silly grin.

“Well m’not sure how well an American can know the city, but I’ll bite.” Usually he would never do this. Going off with strangers is never a good idea, especially because of his status. But there’s something about the girl that makes Harry feel safe. They had just met yet he feels like he could trust her with things he hasn’t even told his best friends.

“An American who’s been living here for a year, that is.” His eyebrows raise slightly, intrigued by her new admission. But before he can even open his mouth to speak, she grabs his wrist with her daintily manicured hand and whisks him out of the quiet museum.

The air was humid, quickly drawing beads of sweat from his forehead. He’s also quite baffled at how she was completely unphased. Not a single drop of sweat was dripping on her body, her soft skin untouched like an old porcelain doll, preserved for years in perfect condition.

“I’ll show you around a little, we can go to this wonderful little vintage store I know.” She had turned to face him, her hand moving from his wrist to cup his one hand in both of hers. “Um- at least, if you want to.” For the first time, she was nervous. Although she will never admit it, Harry makes her extremely nervous. Extremely.

When he turned around when they first met, her jump of surprise wasn’t just because of his bright sunburn. In fact, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about how fucking attractive he is. He really looks like one of the statues that was put up in the museum. His sparkling green eyes send a shiver down her spine, and the tattoos peaking through his thin white t-shirt cause a fire to build in her stomach.

Having someone to talk too while he traversed the streets of Rome is a lot more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated. He purposefully told all of his friends that he was going to be MIA while on this trip. But the fact that she is a stranger changes it in some way, in a good way.

The cobblestone streets are surprisingly smooth, and they walk next to each other in a comfortable silence for a long amount of time. The silence would only break when she would point out something in their field of vision. At one point, Harry pauses, standing still in the middle of the street with a thinking look on his face. He realizes that he doesn’t know her name, which seems ridiculous to him because they were walking around a foreign country like the best of friends. She turns to him, matching his confused look when they lock eyes. “I just realized I don’t know y’name.”

Instead of reacting like he would expect one to react when asked that question, her pupils dilated and for some reason she appears to be scared. Why would someone be scared when you ask for their name?

‘Maybe she thinks her name is embarrassing’ Harry thought, still looking at her with a confused look, but now it was laced with a bit of suspicion.

He watches her sigh, and her hand went up to her ponytail and pulled the black elastic out, her soft hair cascading down her shoulders. With another sigh she said, “Y/N. My names Y/N.”

“That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Oh! There’s the store!”

He found it odd that she was so eager to switch the subject, but goes along with it nonetheless.

The vintage store is lovely, and Harry was able to find a beautiful ring and necklace set, matching gold roses on both of them. They looked around the shop for about 15 minutes, Harry being the only one to make a purchase.

The sun had set by the time they went outside, which isn’t surprising considering that it was almost dark when they walked into the little shop. They stood, facing each other outside of this small little shop in Rome. Two strangers, who just happened to cross each other's path. Harry knows this won’t last forever, and he also knows that he wants to see her again. In a leap of faith, he pulls the gold necklace out of the small brown bag and looks up at her.

“Here, I got them so we could match.” It was bold, but Harry feels connected to this girl, and he doesn’t know it, but she feels the exact same. The smile she gave him when he handed her the necklace was bright and genuine, the creases next to her eyes proving its authenticity. He motioned for her to turn around, wrapping the necklace around her neck and clasping it while she held up her hair.

“Thank you Harry. This is the best day I’ve had in a while.”

“Likewise.”

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your trip Harry.”

It was then that she placed a small, tender peck on his lips, barely lingering for a second before pulling away.

“Wait! Can I get y’number?” Her smile slanted into a smirk, and she pulled a small card and a pen out of her small black clutch. She placed the card up against the brick wall, leaning it against it and scribbling something down on the paper. When she finished writing, she pressed her lips against the card, handing it to Harry.

He looked down at it, expecting to see a series of numbers, but he was met with a simple note, scribbled on the piece of cardstock next to the red lip print she had left.

May the stars align in our favor once again. - Y/N

He looked up frantically, planning to ask her to write her number down as well, but he was met with nothing.

She had disappeared into the night, leaving as quickly as she appeared earlier that day.

[omniswords]

chronicles of a parisian dumbass 19

i’m sorry i’ve been MIA ; ; i’ve been up to my ears in streaming and also returning to work in-person. either way, i hope you enjoy this update of chronicles. better late than never right?

strap in 💙💖

If Luka could get at his phone, he wouldn’t know what to type. maybe a vague, oh, fuck. Maybe some long thread about how cryptic conversation starters only ever scared him and ended both of his relationships—only to follow up with silence in the face of a couple of likes, or a reply from a sort-of-stranger that would debilitate him, remind him of his own vulnerability, more than it would reassure him. Hell, maybe even a message to Bubbles about how he was right all along that he’d need the luck. Or how Bubbles was right about how he really was in for it the moment he stepped into the bakery.

It’s just that, with the way Marinette Dupain-Cheng is looking at him on her balcony—all sad, scared softness—he gets the feeling that he’s not meant to repeat whatever she tells him.

Luka steels himself, loosens his death grip on the neck of the guitar, and releases a breath he doesn’t want to hold onto anymore. “Yeah,” he says. “Anything.” It comes out choked from how tight his vocal cords are. The way they get sometimes when he plugs in the microphone and hits RECORD.

She pats the floor in front of her and mumbles something about being on equal ground, and he slides down to meet her, guitar in tow. She looks like she wants to touch it, feel now real it is. Or how real he is. As though that moment with his card wasn’t enough.

“It’s about your sister,” she says, her gaze darting away in shame. “And Adrien. Sort of.”

“Okay,” he says. It’s slow, and uncertain, but he hopes it tells her he’s all ears.

Marinette looks at her lap and draws herself up and in. Like she’s wanted to tell him this for a long time. Like she’s only just found the words for it. “We were pretty close,” she says. “In grade school. Not as close as… Rose, yeah, Rose. But we were in the same class for a couple years. I helped her with some class picture stuff, she listened to me yammer on about Adrien after he joined our class… even helped me come up with some ideas on how to… confess to him? Win him over? I don’t know.” She rubs the back of her neck. “Actually, I think all my girl friends did that.”

Luka nods slowly, thinks of the school photos in the album Juleka bought from the thrift shop, tries to match faces in his head. He thinks he sees pigtails. Or maybe a bun. He could be wrong. “So,” he says, “you had it pretty bad for him, huh.”

“I dunno if I had it bad. Like I said, puppy love. I mean, I thought we were soulmates—God, I even named our kids—and I couldn’t even get out a sentence in front of him. I didn’t even like him at first. Plus, we were like, fourteen. I didn’t know any better.”

He shrugs. “Just cause you were fourteen doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.” He thinks he catches a blush stealing across Marinette’s face then, but maybe it’s just a trick of the lights. “So… what changed?”

“With Juleka? Or Adrien?”

“Both, I guess.”

Marinette turns her head away. “It’s dumb.”

Luka shrugs again, smiling faintly. “So?”

She starts to pick at her nails, like her hands are just looking for something to do. Without thinking, he gives the spinner ring on his index finger a flick to get her attention, then slides it off and hands it to her. She looks at it with questions in her eyes, then slips it on. It barely fits her index finger, and it wobbles when she gives it a curious flick of her own. It seems to get the job done, at least. “He lent me his umbrella,” she mumbles, final but sheepish. Then she follows up, before his brow can so much as furrow, “He was friends with an old bully of mine—Mrs. Bourgeois’s daughter, actually—and I caught him doing something with some gum on my chair. And I… misjudged him. “Another flick. “He was trying to make it up to me. And he said… he didn’t have any friends. He hadn’t even been to school.”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “Rich kids, huh?” And then, at the first sign of her discomfort, “Sorry, I—”

“No,” she says. “It’s okay, I was just thinking…” She presses her thumb into the curve and the aged grooves of the ring more than she actually spins it. Like she cares about losing it more than she cares about comforting herself. “I think everything around me told me that… that was how I was supposed to feel. Unwavering love. Now it’s been years, and I think… I think I just wanted to be that friend for him. I just wanted to be what he was looking for.”

Luka lifts his gaze from the ring to her face. “Who says that’s not love?” He doesn’t know where the words come from. They just feel like the right ones to say.

Marinette freezes, blinking at her hands. She doesn’t say anything; the only sound is the whine of his ring as the metal scrapes together with another flick.

When the silence goes on a bit too long for either of their liking, Luka clears his throat uncertainly. “So, um…”

She speaks so he doesn’t have to. “Juleka,” she murmurs. “Right, um…” It’s hard to tell who’s more uncomfortable between the two of them. Who's really supposed to say what next. “Well, I mean… you can sort of imagine that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to… y’know. Be with Adrien.”

Luka doesn’t have to imagine, but he nods anyway.

“Not”— Marinette hedges—“not that Juleka was competition or anything. I mean, duh. Just… there was this other girl—there were other girls, and…”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” he urges. “If it still hurts.”

She closes her eyes. Hard, and just for a moment. “Please let me tell you this.”

Her voice wavers. That’s all the cue Luka needs to stay quiet. To let her say everything, or nothing, at her pace.

“Her name was Lila,” she says. “She was a new girl. From Italy. Everyone liked her, except… she lied. Like, compulsively. About connections she had, places she’d been, charity work she did. And she did it because she wanted everyone to like her. She was just telling people what they wanted to hear because the attention made her feel important. She thrived on it.” She gets to her feet. “Sorry, I can’t sit still when I get all… agitated. You know?”

Luka gestures vaguely at the balcony space. “That makes two of us.”

Marinette takes that as her cue to start pacing and turning on her heels, only pausing every so often to stare up at the night sky. “I was jealous,” she admits. “I was also our class representative. And I might’ve… used that to my advantage.”

Maybe he shouldn’t say Hell yeah out loud, but he’s definitely thinking it.

“I kept tabs on people’s schedules, you know?” she says. “So we could work on important events and class projects and stuff. There was one we were planning for Adrien, to celebrate that he’d been in school with us for a year and all. And it just so happened that…” she shrugs, feigning apology. “All the days that worked conflicted with all her charity work.”

Luka whistles, half-impressed. “This the part where you tell me she decided to make your life a living hell like some high school drama villain?”

Marinette’s face falls. “Yeah,” she says, and her voice cracks, and he wishes he weren’t right. “But all she did was exactly what I did. Convinced… everybody… that every little thing I did was proof that I wasn’t a real friend. That I couldn't commit to anything because I committed to everything. And especially with how I avoided her… didn’t trust her, treated her cruelly. she turned everyone against me, a little at a time. Even Alya.” She shifts her weight. “Even Juleka.”

Luka’s heart sinks. He almost wants to reach for her hands when she paces toward him. Almost wants to kick himself for asking, “And… then what?”

She lingers at the balcony railing, perhaps preferring to tell the night sky the rest. “She got me expelled.”

Luka tenses.

Marinette doesn’t notice. “I’d been telling myself for months that I deserved it. Eventually I just… believed it. Let it happen. Never talked to my classmates again.” She shrugs. “I cried a lot. Transferred schools. Threw myself into… everything. Because if Lila said that was what I was doing—just over-committing—I might as well own it. And because if I was constantly doing something, then I couldn’t stop to think about all the bad things I deserved. And I couldn’t be paranoid about being judged for every little thing I did.”

“What…” He’s trying, with every fiber in him, to keep his heart from breaking for her. To keep himself from blurting out how well he knows the feeling. “What about Alya? And Adrien, and, uh… Mrs. Bourgeois’s kid?”

Marinette turns to face him, leaning back against the railing, and something in her face—no, everything—changes. There’s a tiredness in her eyes, a twitch in her hands. Lines in her face that shouldn’t be there for decades. As though she’s just lived them all over again. “I didn’t talk to Alya for over a year. I couldn’t be friends with her. I couldn’t even talk to her.” Her gaze lowers. “It was really hard on Nino.”

“Nino?”

“Our friend. well. My friend. Her boyfriend. He’s the one I’ve been helping for that summer project.” She folds her arms tight. “He apologized first. If it weren’t for him, Alya and I still wouldn’t be talking. And Chloé, well… Mrs. Bourgeois’s recommendation letter had nothing to do with her. I entered some contests with my portfolio and won a couple of them.” She flicks her gaze back. “I did run into Chloé once. In New York. I guess she decided to live with her mom for a while. She kind of took the ‘enemy of my enemy is my ally’ approach. Which was… weird. But tolerable.”

Luka searches her face, even at a distance, and settles on the end of the deck chair again. “What about Adrien?”

The pause that follows is heavy. He can’t tell who feels the weight of it more; he just hopes it’s equal. Marinette scrunches up her lips, braces herself on the railing, and all those decades come back. “Well,” she murmurs. “I guess you don’t really realize what you have until it’s gone, huh.”

He sobers. “He felt guilty.”

“I guess we all did.” She scuffs her heel. “I guess we all do.”

Luka waits. There must be more she wants to say.

There is. She even starts pacing again. “My guidance counselor used to tell me that all that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. It was supposed to be comforting.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t sound very comforting.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she says, “He reminded me they were still good people, and good people could do bad things, and even if they were still good, it was okay for me to not want those people in my life anymore. I dunno.” She rocks on her feet. “Maybe someone told Adrien the same thing and he couldn’t stand doing nothing anymore.”

“Did you want him?” he asks. “In your life? Do you still?”

She heaves a laugh like it’s hard to do. “Would you think it was messed up if I said yes?”

“No, of course not.”

“He could see it,” she says. “What Lila was doing. That was why he felt so bad. That was why he convinced her to clear my name. Turns out he knows how to use things to his advantage, too.”

Luka softens and runs his fingers over the body of his guitar. “He must love you a lot,” he says, “if he was willing to do all that for you.”

At first, Marinette doesn’t say anything, only grips the railing tighter. He can see it, how her knuckles go white, as though there’s something she’s trying to forget. Then she murmurs, “She tried to talk to me. Juleka did. To… apologize… I ghosted her. I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. For a while, I didn’t want to deal with anything anymore. I don’t want you to think it didn’t hurt me, because it did. It did hurt.”

Luka’s stomach turns. He puts his guitar down. “That’s why you’ve been so nice to me, huh…” There’s a lump in his throat that he tries to swallow; he only partly succeeds. “You felt guilty about avoiding her and just… wanted to make it up to her.”

Something flashes across Marinette’s face. Horror, maybe. Or shame. “No, I—that’s not what I—”

“I’m not upset.” He’s not. He’s staring at the floor with a pit in his stomach and a shake in his limbs, and his knee is starting to throb again in protest, but he’s not upset. “Really. I get it. If that’s what you needed for your own closure, then…”

A ragged breath and a sniffle cut him off, and he’s barely able to lift his gaze before Marinette kneels in front of him, placing his ring in his palm and closing his fingers around it. He can’t revel in the touch—won’t let himself—because her hands are cold. Trembling. “Don’t go,” she whispers, squeezing his hand tight, and when he looks up there are tears staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t even be asking this of you, just… please, don’t go.”

Luka learned, a long time ago, to look for the things unsaid. when I can’t make it really meant I’m trying to avoid you. when you’re certainly different really meant God, you are a level of fucked-up I can’t put into words. When we need to talk really meant it's over.

He hears, “Please don’t go,” and he thinks he finds, I want you in my life. Don’t you want me in yours?

Or, maybe, I need you.

Or maybe it’s as simple, as desperate, as, Not you, too.

He’s known Juleka, and maybe even himself, long enough to know what that sounds like in other people.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Hey, I’m not going.”

Marinette freezes, still staring at their hands. “Why? You have every reason to.”

“Because I’m not.”

“You’ve known me for like, two months, as what? A baker’s daughter? Overly nice customer service? Someone who just gave you kindness out of some dumb high school guilt?”

“I’m not going,” Luka says again.

“You should.” Marinette rubs her eyes dry. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” He coaxes his hand open, slides the ring back onto her finger. “Isn’t that enough?”

Marinette studies the ring, giving it a cautious flick. As though touching it might break it altogether. “It’s too big.”

“Then I’ll trade you.” Luka takes the ring back, digs around in his pocket, and fishes out a couple of guitar picks. “Here. Take one.”

One of them has a picture of Jagged Stone’s face. The other has a Kitty Section logo, crudely painted on with some of Juleka’s old nail polish. Marinette takes the first one almost instantly with another sniffle, examining it from all sides. “He’s… my favorite.”

“Yeah.” Luka smiles, not minding that she can’t see it, and thinks of the album cover. “Mine, too.”

She runs her thumb over the faces and edges, blinking away whatever tears threaten to stick around. “Why?” she asks again.

“To prove it.” He tilts his head. “To prove I’m not going.”

She turns the pick this way and that, but doesn’t put it away just yet. Instead, her eyes drift toward his guitar and the amp, and then up to him. “Hey,” she says. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“I know,” he tells her. “I won’t tell Jules about any of this. And I won’t make you talk to her if you don’t want to.” And I’ll stay. I swear to God I’ll stay.

“Not that.” Marinette presses her lips together, still sitting on her knees. Still holding on to the pick for dear life. “Can you play it again?”

“What, the song from your playlist?”

“Me.” She looks away, her cheeks flushed and blotchy. “Can you play me. Again.”

Luka’s heart picks up, so loud he can barely hear anything else. Even her. “Yeah,” he says, setting his guitar in his lap, “Yeah, I think I got it this time.”

i guess it’s eleven now.

[monochrome-in-madness]

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My Top 10 Favourite Horrors

Within this top 10 list, some will include the prequels, sequels and any other follow ups as 1 ranking number. Some may be considered thriller, sci-fi, suspence etc, however, I do regard these as horrors myself.

I have take many aspects into account, such as videography, actor quality, SFX makeup quality, soundtrack, directors, CGI etc.

Note : this is my personal opinion. You do not have to agree with it, though if you haven't seen these, I highly reccomend them.

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1. The Conjuring

(1 & 2)

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The Conjuring 1 :

The Perron family moves into a farmhouse where they experience paranormal phenomena. They consult demonologists, Ed and Lorraine Warren, to help them get rid of the evil entity haunting them.

The Conjuring Trailer :

The Conjuring 2 :

Peggy, a single mother of four children, seeks the help of occult investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren when she and her children witness strange, paranormal events in their house

The Conjuring 2 Trailer :

My Opinion :

The Conjuring was the start of an incredible series of horrors that beat any other horror to the ground. It is absolutely fantastic and I basically worship these films. James Wan is my favourite director and he never ceases to amaze me.

Paranormal horror is my favourite and as someone who actually believes in the paranormal and who has had paranormal experiences, I can confirm that The Conjuring is much more realistic than any other paranormal films, which just makes it extra spooky.

The actors, camera angles, music, sfx makeup and storyline is just - chefs kiss -. I've been waiting for the 3rd one for so long, but they keep extending the release date. (R. I. P)

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2. Annabelle

(all of them)

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Annabelle :

John and Mia Form are attacked by a Satan worshipping couple, who uses their doll as a conduit to make their life miserable. This unleashes a string of paranormal events in the Forms' residence.

Annabelle Trailer :

Annabelle Creation :

Samuel and Elle embed their daughter's spirit into a doll, only to realise it is a demon. Years later, they open their home to a nun and six orphan girls, one of whom finds the doll.

Annabelle Creation Trailer :

Annabelle Comes Home :

Judy and her babysitter are left alone in her house after her parents leave to investigate a case. However, an unexpected guest sets Annabelle free, unleashing demonic activity in the house.

Annabelle Comes Home Trailer :

My Opinion :

Another great film series that was birthed form The Conjuring. Definitely less realistic, with many more jumpscares and spooky characters, which is appreciated in the horror world. Many people find dolls far more creepy than ghosts, myself included, so that's another perfect aspect that adds to the suspense.

I prefer Annabelle 3 over the others, mainly because I found that one to be more scary overall, even though Daniela is an idiot and she makes me so frustrated 😂

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3. Saw

(all of them)

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For the totally unindoctrinated, the Saw movie franchise revolves around the Jigsaw Killer (a.k.a. John Kramer), who tortures victims he believes are complacent or guilty, in order to make them appreciate their time on Earth.

All Saw Trailers :

Obviously I'm not going to list every Saw movie, because there are 7 (Jigsaw aka number 8, does NOT count. It is a disgrace).

My Opinion :

A classic for horror and gore lovers of all kinds. Of course I need to list this as number 3. I simply adore these movies. I even have the DVD set, so I am definitely a long term fan haha.

The obstacles and creativity regarding Saw as a whole needed a lot of thought put into it, plus it has a happy little side note of "make sure you don't cause harm to others in life and don't take anything for granted" which some may have not even noticed while being overwhelmed by the amount of fake blood.

Yes, a lot of characters are annoying, but that just makes us enjoy seeing them tortured even more (shh it's not real). Some of the blood doesn't look very realistic, the sfx can lack attention, BUT... It's still great and I can overlook these few flaws to appreciate the movies to the max.

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4. Blair Witch

(2016)

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A young man and his friends venture into the Black Hills Forest in Maryland to uncover the mystery surrounding his missing sister. Many believe her disappearance 17 years earlier is connected to the legend of the Blair Witch.

At first the group is hopeful, especially when two locals act as guides through the dark and winding woods. As the night wears on, a visit from a menacing presence soon makes them realize that the legend is all too real, and more sinister than they could have ever imagined.

Blair Witch Trailer :

My Opinion :

I love the camerawork. Not because it's perfect, because it's the opposite. It's a documentary style and this makes it feel more realistic, as if you are within the film yourself. I enjoy how they skip to the action at just the right time after a mild buildup.

The visuals are great as well and there were definitely some parts where I was disgusted and claustrophobic, which is good to experience while enjoying these types of films.

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5. Under The Skin

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Disguising itself as a human female, an extraterrestrial drives around Scotland attempting to lure unsuspecting men into her van. Once there, she seduces and sends them into another dimension where they are nothing more than meat.

Under The Skin Trailer :

My Opinion :

I would classify this as horror, but many won't. Either way, this is an amazingly artistic film with beautiful imagery and silent awe. It definitely makes you feel the suspense in a calming manner and it has some really dark moments. Without reading the description, one might be confused as to what is going on, but how art is supposed to be interpretated is by the imagination of individuals.

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6. Veronica

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During a solar eclipse, young Verónica and her friends want to summon the spirit of Verónica's father using an Ouija board. However, during the session she loses consciousness and soon it becomes clear that evil demons have arrived.

Veronica Trailer :

My Opinion :

A Spanish masterpiece, to put it simply. It's hard to find proper horrors like this in English. I really enjoyed this one and I watched it subbed not dubbed, because I feel like voiceovers tend to ruin the art of the original film. The buildup is perfect and unlike many horrors, it barely shows you the face of the "monster". That leaves it to the imagination, which in general makes it far more scary.

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7. Underwater

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Disaster strikes more than six miles below the ocean surface when water crashes through the walls of a drilling station. Led by their captain, the survivors realize that their only hope is to walk across the sea floor to reach the main part of the facility. But they soon find themselves in a fight for their lives when they come under attack from mysterious and deadly creatures that no one has ever seen.

Underwater Trailer :

My Opinion :

This movie was released quite recently and I didn't know what to expect. I was definitely blown away by how good it was. Being trapped underwater gives most people a sense of anxiety. Add being trapped underwater and being hunted by creepy sea monsters and you've got yourself a good horror. Kristen Stewarts general anxious personality definitely suits this film well.

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8. Split

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Kevin, who is suffering from dissociative identity disorder and has 23 alter egos, kidnaps three teenagers. They must figure out his friendly personas before he unleashes his 24th personality.

Split Trailer :

https://youtu.be/84TouqfIsiI

My Opinion :

An incredible film with phenomenal acting on the part of James McAvoy. You can get lost within his character and almost feel as if you are the character itself. Suspense is built up slowly and the climax of the film is released rapidly. People I know who do not enjoy horror, love this film themselves, which is saying something. It's definitely one of the best modern films that draws you in from the start. 

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9. A Quiet Place

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A family struggles for survival in a world where most humans have been killed by blind but noise-sensitive creatures. They are forced to communicate in sign language to keep the creatures at bay.

A Quiet Place Trailer :

https://youtu.be/WR7cc5t7tv8

My Opinion :

As you can tell by now, I love anything alien related. This film has some of the most amazing looking aliens I've seen, I was honestly in awe by how great they looked. Another silent film, but in a different sense to the previous one. Instead of being the hunter, this family is being hunted and this adds more to the fear factor.

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10. Unfriended - Dark Web

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When a teen finds a laptop with a cache of hidden files, he and his friend discover that the previous owner has access to the dark web and is watching over them.

Unfriended - Dark Web Trailer :

https://youtu.be/XenTM_C9fxM

My Opinion :

A modern take on horror. Involving the actual dangers of the dark web and the use of technology and turning it into a horror was a magnificent idea. It definitely had me at the edge of my seat.

Due to another film type that is not often explored (thus being that most of the movie is equal to what it would be like to look at your computer and video chat), it makes it different and therefore more compelling than the usual videography styles.

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Thank you for reading, if you've made it this far! Feel free to share your top 10 in the comment section, I am definitely interested in your opinions and finding new movies to watch myself. Any questions are also welcome.

Until next time, take care and stay spooky!

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[tundrainafrica]

Title: Division of Labor (3/?)

Summary:  

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities that await them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 2

Link to cross-postings: AO3

It turned out Hange did think the housing plan through.  

"It's a rent to own contract...so after paying this certain amount of rent… within a number of years… we can own the house basically," Hange explained. Her preparation was evident in the wad of papers she had carelessly spread out on the table in front of Levi.

At first glance, Levi could not make sense of what those papers were. Eventually, by carefully scanning through the therefore, herewiths, in the events, the interest rates and percentages, Levi figured out they were contracts and manuals full of buying and renting policies of one particular real estate company.

Levi looked out the glass window of the booth of the quiet diner they had chosen to work in. He had tried to use the mechanical movements of the crowds on a commute home to at least help clear his mind enough to make sense of how exactly a rent-to-own contract worked. Levi was sure Hange was at least attempting to explain everything about the buying policies of the real estate company in layman's terms. Although Levi was somewhat impressed by the dedication Hange put into it, as soon as she started to talk about the policies and agreements beyond ‘we get to own the house after a while,’ Levi ended up spacing out. The prospect of spending, even if it was fake money, caused him enough unnecessary stress.  

He turned his attention to the two flour sacks who were propped by the window of the diner booth they occupied. He had purposefully turned their ugly faces towards the window at the small possibility that Shadis, Erwin or even Zeke were amongst the crowds of people walking through the crowds and into the subway station. A testament to their determination not to waste any unnecessary funds or worse, flunk the program

"If we catch you in public not holding your baby, you pay babysitting dues or you fail." Shadis had said in homeroom class that morning.

After some discussion as a class and with some confirmation from Erwin, the whole class came to the understanding that if they went out separately, they were in no obligation to take their babies with them. It could always be assumed after all, that their partner had their baby with them. Being in public with their partner meant someone had to have the baby with them or they risk pay necessary dues. At any rate, they found solace in the fact that if they were going to look like idiots holding brown sacks with shabbily drawn faces on them, they at least had someone to look like an idiot with.

Levi looked back at  Hange to see that she had not stopped talking. Levi was not too surprised, having the disinterested equivalent of a resting bitch face, he had to master the art of looking like he cared to get past most classes.  

“Where did you get these anyway?” Levi asked, interrupting the tirade of his partner. The answer to that question would at least be something he would be able to understand.

“The procedures manual and their company policies are available online.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Levi noted how quickly she recovered from having her explanation of policy and business jargon interrupted.

As Levi looked once again through highlighted lines and messy scrawls, he felt embarrassed that he was not even halfway done with the design they had discussed the night before. He slowly brought out his folder where he had at least begun to draw the floor plan from the link Hange had sent him the night before.

“How has the floor plan been Levi?” Hange cocked her head to one side. Levi could not tell if she was provoking him or if she was genuinely curious about the progress of his work. Regardless, the way that she sifted through the papers under her, while looking pointedly at the roughly drawn floor plan on his hands had Levi self conscious.

It was Tuesday afternoon, less than 24 hours since she had bombarded him with messages. Less than 24 hours since she dropped a pdf file of the floor plan and went MIA, Levi guessed it was to prepare all the documents which Hange had just laid out in front of him that morning. As he compared his own progress to hers, he also became aware of one more reality, their first outputs were due tomorrow. Begrudgingly Levi had to admit, despite her naivete and overenthusiasm, Hange had a better sense of urgency than he did.

“I planned everything out already. I just need to outline it.” Levi said, trying at least not to sound as defensive as he felt.

“But can you do it alone? I didn’t sleep at all last night to get this done.” Hange looked more concerned than anything else.”

As Levi looked back at a skeleton of a housing plan that lay in front of him, he started to understand her concern. The house they had selected was huge and designing would take hours if he actually wanted to put thought into it.

“I mean even if we take out the 1800 from our budget of 3600 dollars a month, we still have to consider furniture and it might take you a while to come out with the pricing right? I guess we could leave out 1000 dollars for that….”

Furniture? Levi had stopped listening at ‘furniture.’ Somehow Levi had assumed that it would have been fully furnished when they bought it and they just had to rearrange furniture. “We’re buying an unfurnished house?” Levi had hoped Hange was pulling his leg.

Hange knitted her brows in confusion. “Did I say anything about a furnished house?”

                                         Division of Labor

“There are two methods of accounting used in modern day society: cost accounting and accrual accounting or as I’d like to call them: an idiot’s sorry excuse for accounting and actual accounting.” Zeke wrote the two terms on the board and plopped himself on the teacher’s desk. “Really though, why the hell do people still use cost accounting in modern society, it’s fucking stupid, barbaric, might as well go back to bartering…”

Levi had no idea what either of them were. As he looked around at his classmates, they looked as lost as he was about the mini rant that Zeke gave about the two accounting methods he had failed to define.

After a few minutes of ranting, Zeke finally noticed the blank faces of his students. “Okay Social Experiment.” Zeke cocked his head to the side. “Actually, let’s call it an IQ Test.  Jean stand up.”

“Yes sir!” Jean followed way too enthusiastically.

“You got the investment banker occupation so ideally you should be the most knowledgeable on money among everyone in the room,” Zeke continued. “You have zero dollars and I gave you 100 dollars right now. How much do you have?”

“100 dollars sir,” Jean answered.

“That’s a smart boy.” Zeke slapped his desk so hard, Armin and Eren jumped, having sat so close to the teacher’s desk. “Okay, so if I lent you 100 dollars, how much do you have?”

“100 dollars.”

“So, you’re gonna run away with my money? No plans of paying me back?”

Jean tensed up in confusion. “No sir. I’ll be paying you back.”

“Then is it your money?"

“It’s with me sir… So I think…” Jean paused for a second. “So it’s your money sir?”

“Tell me. The money is with you after all. Is it your money or my money?”

“It’s my money sir!” Jean answered too quickly, probably without even thinking.

“I lent you the money. I expect it back so it’s mine. Calling my money your money is practically stealing Kirschtein. I can call a lawyer on you.” Zeke narrowed his eyes at Jean for a few seconds before shrugging in defeat. “But you’re not a criminal. You’re just an idiot who relies on outdated accounting methods. Don’t take that with you when you become an actual financial advisor. Sit down. I’m calling someone else.” Zeke turned back to the class list on the teacher’s table. “Okay, anyone in this list with a finance related position...” Zeke’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked through the list. He looked at the class with a cat-like grin, his eyes focusing on one boy in the front row. “In my almost sixteen years of knowing you, I did not expect you to be suitable but it looks like you’re the only one in this list other than Jean with an accounting related occupation.”

“Really? It’s accounting related?” Eren had never been one to be good at Math. Everyone in the class agreed and as their professor hinted at his assigned occupation, many began to whisper, possibly theorizing as to what Eren had gotten.

They did not have to theorize for long though, within seconds, Zeke continued to discuss. “Okay Eren, let’s discuss your field of expertise --- insurance.”

Eren slowly nodded in return. It was a nod which everyone in the room had understood at first glance. Insurance was not Eren’s field of expertise.

Zeke did not seem to care though. “Case study time! I have 3000 dollars. Eren the insurance salesman sells me $200 dollars a month worth of insurance and I buy one years worth of prepaid insurance. By the end of this month, how much worth of assets do I have left?”

“By assets, you mean money?”

“Check a fucking dictionary.”

Eren sat down for a second. From his seat, Levi could hear some whispers from Mikasa and some clicks of a digital keyboard, or possibly a calculator.

“600 dollars.”

“Final answer?”

“Yes. Final Answer.” Eren seemed so sure of his answer.

From seeing Zeke’s face at the answer, Levi could not help but think, maybe phrasing it as a question was the better option for Eren.

“This is why your generation is so shit at saving. With this type of attitude, you‘re all gonna get into some shity Ponzi scheme with yourself and some sad saps who actually pitied you enough to lend you money without assessing your credit rating that’s just gonna continue riding on some endless cycle until you all go to jail or declare bankruptcy.” Zeke ranted again as he punched the buttons of the projector, turning it on. “ Scratch that. At this rate, none of you would probably even know how to declare bankruptcy.”

Accounting 101 . Those two words flashed on the screen, the contrast of black words in a default font to the white background of a hastily made powerpoint only getting clearer as the projector whirred to life.

“The amount of debt you can get into in the real world will fuck up your life. So to simulate the real world consequences of unpaid debt, we decided to make your fake debt by the end of the year one of the main determinants of your final grade. And we will be using real accounting to determine your debt. Any questions before we start?”

It was Sasha who raised her hand from the back of the classroom.

“Yes?” Zeke asked with shoddily hidden annoyance.

“So which one is cost and which one is accrual again, Sir?”

                                      Division of Labor

"I told you. I'll handle the accounting," Hange said. "We can make this work." Her words were not at all assuring.

It was Wednesday afternoon. They had submitted their selection for their house that afternoon in class so that meant no more takebacks. Their house plans were due midnight and Levi was not even halfway done. To add insult to injury, Levi was still reeling from Zeke’s lecture just a few hours ago.

Initially, Hange had suggested they buy the furniture in installments. The prospect of buying in installments though became all the more terrifying with the accounting system Zeke had introduced to them that day and the weight of a negative balance sheet on their grades.

As soon as you buy something and enter into debt, the money owed is not yours anymore. Levi shuddered as those words echoed in his head. He narrowed his eyes at Hange. "Really Hange? Can we? After deciding to spend half your salary each month on an unfinished 3 bedroom house?" Levi asked as he gestured to their next tall order that stretched over two aisles. They were in the baby's section in the supermarket.

It was their third round around that aisle, trying to look for a brand of diaper and a brand of formula that would not cost them a total of 400 dollars a month.

“I mean, we still have 800 dollars on groceries if we put our furniture installments budget at 1000 dollars a month,” Hange explained. “So if we spend 400 dollars on baby stuff, we should have 400 left.”

“400 dollars for a month’s worth of meals for a family of four.” Levi clarified. “There must be something here we could choose not to spend on.” Or maybe we could find a cheaper place to buy things in. Levi thought back to the supermarket nearer to his house and made a mental note to check it. The output was due on Friday anyway.

"Hey, Armin and Annie are here too!" Hange said enthusiastically.

Too enthusiastically. Levi clarified to himself. That was not at all good news. If other groups were going to that supermarket, that must mean they think they have the financial leeway to spend there, That could also possibly mean he and Hange had somehow fucked up financially as a pair, struggling to make ends meet. Armin was a studious student with a good head on his shoulders and he chose to shop in a more expensive supermarket. Are we spending too much?

"Let's ask Armin…" Levi did not need to finish his sentence. By the time, he looked to his side, where Hange stood or at least was supposed to be standing, the latter was already on her way to the blond boy..

Levi did not waste anytime. As Hange chatted up Armin, Levi made a few rounds through the two aisles again, his phone calculator on hand.

Just in case. Levi told himself. Just in case they had miscalculated the minimum expense of 400 dollars.

                                      Division of Labor

Hange had a long talk with Armin. By that point, Levi had lost count of the number of rounds he had made around the aisle. He had stopped counting at five. He had done his research on discounts and made some fake accounts and the expense still clocked at $390 dollars.

By the time he and Hange called it quits, the sun was setting. Hange seemed lost in thought and she had been that way since she had finished her conversation with Armin. Levi decided to take over keeping both sacks for the night. He made a small detour to the grocery store nearest to his flat. It was smaller, a little dirtier but it meant a little more room for spending and a bigger chance of saving his grade and graduating. Begrudgingly, sanitation became the least of Levi's issues.

He wrote out all the prices of the important items they had seen in the grocery store. When he got home, he made sure to write them all on a google sheet complete with weight, quantity and prices and sent the link to Hange through an instant message. For some reason, he felt a twinge of disappointment when all he received was a heart react in return.

Of course, Hange still had a lot of things to calculate. Even as they separated less than an hour ago, she had seemed distracted. Levi guessed Armin had told her something game breaking about the accounting process.

What did Armin tell you? You need any help?

Will explain soon. Send the meal plan and house design by 9 pls.

Levi managed to submit the meal plan by nine. He had copied and pasted from some random family cooking website, changing a few ingredients to fit what he thought would be cheaper options. He did not need to think too much of it either. He lived a life many would consider the complete opposite of excess and as a result, had mastered the art of improvisation when it came to food.

His main problem lay with the floor plan of the house. Hange had agreed to handle worrying about the expenses. That was one problem out of his plate.

Even with the money problem out of his hands, Levi found himself working until late anyway. Or not working… Levi was only reminded of his lack of productivity when his phone lit up with a notification.

11:00pm

Hange Zoe

Where??????

Levi only realized then that he had gotten a little carried away with the problem of where to put the washing machine.

                                 Division of Labor

It was a genius idea.

That Wednesday night, only a few hours before the house plan was due, Levi had had fifty tabs open from German and Japanese house designers showing bathrooms and laundry room designs highlighting the novelty and practicality of putting the washing machine in the bathroom. Levi had spent hours pondering the logistics of making it work for the house design Hange had sent him only for her to shoot down the idea an hour before the housing plan was due.

They rented an American style house with a bathroom in every bedroom and the impracticality had dawned on him particularly when it was fifteen minutes to 12am and they were still arguing in chat over how to design the house. In the end, Hange had gotten her way, having brought up the issue of accounting furniture and the fact that they probably did not even have the financial leeway to pay for a washing machine anyway.

Having to deal with the disappointment of losing the opportunity to design the house the way he wanted to and having his unfinished design shipped off to Erwin’s email, with little regard for the effort he had put into the intricacy of both the toilets and the laundry room, Levi was a little pissed. He also considered the fact that he had respected the effort and detail Hange had put into choosing a house and had allowed her to submit a potentially overpriced and unfurnished house as their final product.

And she could not even reciprocate the respect for his whims.

Levi decided then to take a break from it all. It was a silent agreement on both ends. Or there was no need for an agreement anyway. They had finished their deliverables for the week by Thursday.

Everyone had ended up cramming theirs anyway and Levi found himself walking home alone and spending his time outside school hours bingeing whatever was new on Netflix.

By Monday, Levi had not expected to do much. Their breakdown of responsibilities was due Friday, 12am on Thursday to be exact according to the file that Erwin had sent. It was a one page paper with a few questions that just needed answering. They could easily start on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Levi wanted to spend at least just his Monday, peacefully, not considering the program which has been plaguing the start of their junior year since Shadis’ announcement just a week ago. He allowed himself to clear his mind, making sure to just note on his phone to start on the next output by Wednesday. Hange would probably remind him anyway.

He had deluded himself well into thinking the adulting program was limited to those once a week outputs. An announcement was made to meet in the kitchen after lunch for home economics class. His mood that Monday had him living in complete denial of what could actually go on in a school kitchen and for some reason, Levi imagined having a lecture in the kitchen was a completely normal expectation, even with the reminder to bring aprons and gloves. Maybe we just need to put them in lockers or something.

As the students filed in though, some of them panicked and that was when Levi figured out that something was not right. The counters were all lined up with ingredients. Some of the students had recognized the ingredients. Levi looked to Hange to see that she was blank on what the hell the pattern was behind the types of ingredients set out.

There were the essentials--- flour, sugar, eggs. There were exotic ingredients Levi could not even name or pronounce.

“Cardamom, Star Anise, Rose water. What the hell?” It was Jean speaking from behind Levi.

“I’m glad you see the pattern. I’m assuming that means you’ll all do well?” Erwin waited while the rest of the class filed into the room before he raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Today we’ll be having a pop quiz just to make sure you all know what you’re writing when you make the meal plans. In the tables assigned to you, you will see the ingredients for one of the meals you put in your meal plan. Please use them accordingly to make a full course meal from what you had submitted.”

Levi could not remember for the life of him what the hell he had put in that meal plan a week back

[badchoicesposts]

Loyalty Or Royalty

Chapter 10

Summary: Mia Bhatt spent years trying to escape her past, trying to escape the feeling of betrayal that was left in her heart after the fire, and she finally had. She was marrying the King of Cordonia and was finally going to get her happily ever after. But, after a momentary lapse in judgement caused her to send a wedding invitation to someone she was sure had forgotten about her, she realizes that sometimes the past has a way of crawling back to you.

Author’s Note: In this fic Anton and The Sons of Earth were caught before the wedding. Also this story will contain flashbacks that will be in italics.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Mia Bhatt), Platonic!Colt x MC, Past!Logan x MC

Word Count: 3,972

Warning: Language

Taglist: @flowerpowell​​​, @dcbbw​​​, @texaskitten30​​​, @kingliam2019​​​​, @hopefulmoonobject​​​, @lovehugsandcandy​​​​, @los-cafeteros​​​​, @desireepow-1986​​​​ @lovemychoices​​​​, @kimmiedoo5​​

Catch Up: Masterlist

Logan was kissing her. Mia’s body was frozen in shock, her eyes wide open as she tried to figure out what to do. One second they were sprawled out on her bed and he was helping her study for her history test, and the next second he was kissing her. She was hyper aware of how stiff her body was and how soft his lips were. By the time she had made up her mind to finally kiss him back he was already pulling away, a slight blush on his cheeks as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Sorry, I just thought that you-” he immediately began to apologize.

“No! It’s okay. I just, uh, I’ve just never,” she trailed off, fighting back her own blush. 

Logan looked surprised at her statement, and she wasn’t sure if she should be embarrassed that she had gotten to seventeen without having her first kiss or not. Much to her surprise, he simply smiled kindly at her.

“Can I do it again?” he asked.

Mia took a deep breath and nodded prompting him to lean in once again. This time when his lips met hers she was ready and she hesitantly kissed him back. However, her stomach dropped at the words he spoke when they finally parted.

“I want to take you on a date.”

“What?” she asked.

She wasn’t sure why, but a feeling of discomfort overtook her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Logan. She did. He was one of the nicest people she knew, and if she was being honest she had developed a small crush on him since he had arrived at the garage four months ago. But keeping her feelings to herself was one thing and going on a date with him was another. 

She didn’t know how to navigate a date. She didn’t know how to navigate a relationship. What did people do in a relationship? Besides, was getting into a relationship really worth it. It was bound to end poorly, wasn’t it?

“Mia. Mia?” Logan’s soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“No-nothing,” she stammered out, trying to plaster a smile on her face. 

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice filled with so much kindness that she almost didn’t know what to do with herself.

No one had ever looked at her the way he was. No one had ever smiled at her the way he was. He was being so gentle and kind.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” she said instead of being honest, fighting back the anxious feeling that was rising in her pit of the stomach. 

Logan’s face lit up and for a moment the discomfort dissipated and she felt genuine excitement.

~~~

“So I told him to go without me,” Mia said, settling in bed next to Liam and turning onto her side to face him.

“But, you want to go too,” Liam said, curling his arms around her waist and pulling her to his chest. 

Mia nestled herself happily into his arms, remaining silent as she tried to figure out how to answer his question. Of course he would know that she wanted to go, and she knew Liam would tell her to if she said yes. Liam had proved to her time and time again that he would do just about anything to make her happy. But, she knew things weren’t that simple. 

“I don’t not want to go,” she finally said. “I feel like… like there’s this huge part of me that I’m just now finding out existed and finding him, finding Kaneko, will help me work things out.”

“Then, you should go, love,” Liam said encouragingly, running his fingers up and down her back. 

“But, what about everything here?” she asked.

“As much as I’ll miss you, I’ll manage for two days without you,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

Liam rolled the two of them over, his body hovering over hers as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. 

“Find your father,” he said, pulling back enough to look down at her. 

“I’m sorry, Li,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“For what?” 

“All of this. For the fact that I’m finding out about this now. For Applewood,” she whispered the last part, a feeling of guilt building up in her chest as she thought of it. 

Liam let out a soft sigh before rolling off of her and sitting up in bed. He pulled Mia into his arms, and she curled up against his chest. 

“This isn’t your fault, love,” he said. 

“It literally is. If I hadn’t been here then Kaneko probably wouldn’t have gotten involved with Anton and the orchard would have never been burned down in the first place,” she argued, wiping away her tears and pulling herself out of his arms.

“Mia, you didn’t do this, and you can’t blame yourself for it happening,” Liam said more insistently. 

She sighed in frustration, not sure how to explain why she felt so strongly that this was her fault but still knowing that it was. 

“Do you think the people would feel the same way if they found out?” she asked only to be met with silence. 

She turned to look at Liam and briefly saw a troubled look on his face before one of determination took its place instead. 

“They won’t find out,” he said firmly.

“But what if they do? What if Anton or Claudius or another one of their lackeys decide to talk?” she asked, finally addressing what she was sure they were both thinking about. 

“We’ll make sure they won’t.”

“How, Li? We can’t stop them.”

“They’re traitors to the throne, so they’re in solitary confinement with no outside visitors allowed. You were only able to speak to Claudius today because you’re the Queen. Otherwise they don’t interact with anyone except the guards.”

“And what if they let something ‘slip’ to one of the guards, and then the guard lets it slip to someone else who lets it slip to someone else or decides to sell the information to the press. There’s about a million ways this could get out. Not to mention, what do we do when we find Kaneko? Do we imprison him ourselves? Do we send him back to the States and let the U.S. authorities deal with him? Do we just let him go? I don’t know how to handle any of this!” she exclaimed, getting out of bed and beginning to pace along the length of the floor in front of the bed. 

“Mia, relax. We’ll figure this out together,” Liam promised, trying to get her to stop pacing. 

“I can’t relax! I’ve been queen for five whole minutes and I already feel like I’m in over my head!” she exclaimed, her breathing becoming heavier the more upset she got. “Kaneko was my father, but instead of doing what he was supposed to all he’s done is create more problems for me. Why couldn’t he have just died in that fire? Why couldn’t he have stayed away from Anton? Why couldn’t he have taken me out of that house growing up? Why couldn’t he have protected me? Why couldn’t he have just loved me?” her voice cracked and she noticed for the first time that her cheeks were wet. 

She reached up to wipe her tears away, but more were already coming.

“Why didn’t he love me, Li?” she asked, her voice filled with desperation as she broke down once again.

Hercules, who had been sleeping in his dog bed in the corner of the room, walked over to her and began nuzzling his face against her legs. Liam got out of bed and took her into his arms. She pushed her face into his bare chest, the feeling of his skin against hers managing to calm her down some, if only a little. If there was only one thing in the world that she was sure of, it was that Liam loved her and that he always would.

~~~

“What are you doing here?” Mia asked, pulling herself out of Liam’s arms and looking to where Drake was placing a small bag into the trunk of the car she and Colt were driving to the airport. 

Her, Liam, Ellie, and Colt were huddled together by the car saying their goodbyes. 

“I’m going with you,” he said, just barely glancing into Liam’s direction. 

The action was so quick that Mia would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking close enough. 

“You’re sending me with a babysitter?” she asked incredulously, crossing her arms over her chest and popping her hip out. 

“If looks could kill, you’d be dead right now,” Colt said, him and Drake sharing a small smirk at Liam’s expense.

“He’s not a babysitter. You refused to take any members of the guard with you, so I figured Drake was the next best thing. He’s going with you for protection,” Liam said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

Mia rolled her eyes but accepted his answer. She knew Liam wasn’t feeling great about her travelling without guards, but she figured that it would draw less attention to go alone as opposed to having the royal motorcade follow them through Indiana. They had already argued enough about whether or not they should take the royal jet and in the end she agreed that it would be safer because people would recognize her on a plane leaving Cordonia. 

The more she thought about it the less it seemed like a smart idea for her to be going to Indiana in the first place. There were just too many chances of someone noticing her and then having attention brought to the situation. But, as much as she claimed to trust him, she didn’t want to let Colt out of her sight. She was paranoid that he would disappear on her again, although realistically she knew that he wouldn’t since Ellie would be staying in Cordonia with the rest of the crew till they got back. But, she didn’t want to take the chance that he wouldn’t just up and leave the both of them. 

“You’re right. Thank you for looking out for me,” she said with a resigned sigh, pushing herself up to the tips of her toes to pull him into a sweet kiss.

“I’ll miss you,” Liam said, looking down at her fondly. 

“I’ll miss you too,” she said, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

They pulled away from each other at the sound of a loud groan coming from behind them. Colt was looking at them expectantly, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“You’ll be gone for two days max. Is it really that big of a deal?” he asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, stop it. It’s sweet. You know, I’ll miss you too,” Ellie said, nestling herself into Colt’s side. 

Mia saw Colt’s shoulders relax and a small smile formed on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her, and it was Mia’s turn to groan in disgust.

“Okay, I’m getting into the car now,” she said, giving Liam one last hug before climbing into the driver’s seat and motioning for the rest of them to hurry up. 

Colt took a few extra minutes to say goodbye to Ellie, and although Mia wanted to be annoyed, she couldn’t help but be happy for him. He was in love with Ellie. Ellie had always made him happy. She could tell as much seven years ago, but now it was obvious how in love they were. By the time the couple had finished saying their goodbyes, Drake had already gotten into the passenger seat so Colt climbed into the back, grumbling about having to sit there. 

Mia drove the short drive to the airport and they boarded the plane as quickly as they could, all anxious to get the trip over with. As she settled into her seat next to Drake, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She was wearing one of Liam’s old hoodies, and even though the garment was far too large on her and hung off of her frame, it smelled like her husband and it was comforting. She opened up the novel she had been reading before all of this started and attempted to get back into the story as the plane took off. 

About three hours into the flight Mia put down her book and glared in Colt’s direction. He had been annoyingly tapping his hand on his seat’s armrest for the past hour, and it had been driving her crazy. 

“Will you knock that off,” she asked, causing him to sigh and stop his fidgeting. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, beginning to instead play with the zipper on his jacket. 

Mia let out a relieved breath and picked back up her novel. However, not even five minutes later Colt began zipping and unzipping his jacket repeatedly. 

“Oh my god, Colt!” she groaned angrily. “Stop!”

“Sorry!” he said in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you so calm about all of this?” 

Before Mia could open her mouth to respond, Drake did for her. 

“She’s not. She’s been reading the same page for the past hour,” he said from his spot next to her. 

Mia now glared over at him instead.

“I’m calm! I’m always calm!” she said defensively, causing both men to scoff.

“Bhatt, you’re one of the most anxious people I’ve ever met,” Drake said, causing her to pinch his arm in protest. 

“I’m not that bad!” she exclaimed looking over to Colt for help. 

However he simply raised his eyebrows at her in amusement. 

“Okay, fine. I’m an anxious person,” she said leaning back in her seat with a huff. “But, I could be worse!” 

Colt opened his mouth to respond to that statement, and she glared over in his direction.

“Don’t!” she warned.

Colt raised his arms in mock surrender but kept a smug smirk on his face and Drake mirrored his expression. 

“You guys aren’t supposed to gang up on me,” she grumbled out under her breath. 

“But, you make it so easy,” Drake said, causing her to pinch his arm again. 

“Ow! Stop pinching me!” he said, angrily swatting her hand away. 

“Stop pissing me off!” she shot back. 

“Fine! Okay! I’m sorry for saying that you were an anxious person,” he said, although she could tell he didn’t mean it. 

Mia, however, dropped the topic and settled back into her seat. She snuggled herself into Liam’s sweatshirt, the light conversation and the smell of his cologne lulling her into a relaxed state for the first time in days. She wished Liam was there with her. He had been more understanding and comforting than she could have ever imagined since everything had happened, and she was so grateful for him. However, if he couldn’t be here with her she was glad that Drake and Colt both were. Her tiredness from lack of sleep the past few days was finally starting to catch up with her, and she rested her head on Drake’s shoulder and fell into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

The rest of the flight passed by with no more activity and after a few more hours they touched down in Indianapolis. It was already dark out by the time they landed, and they still had a few hours drive to get to Gary, Indiana. Despite the ever present tiredness she had been feeling recently, Mia slipped behind the wheel of the rental car, needing to be in the driver’s seat to keep her mind at ease and quell her anxiety. Drake was stretched out in the back seat, falling in and out of sleep, while Colt sat in the passenger seat beside her. She could see the tiredness in his eyes, but he showed no sign of actually getting any rest.

“You might as well get some sleep too. By the time we get to Gary it’ll be three in the morning, and we won’t be able to go to the post office anyway,” she said, glancing over in his direction.

“I can’t,” he said simply. 

Mia nodded her head and turned back to face the road once again. 

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?” Colt asked, causing Mia to immediately remember when Ellie had asked her the same question about Colt himself. 

Her answer had been very different then because she could see things going back to normal with Colt, but she couldn’t fathom the idea of pretending that nothing had changed with Kaneko. 

“I want to say no, but I honestly don’t know. I know it sounds fucked up, but a part of me still has this hope that I’ll finally be able to experience a healthy father daughter relationship. But, when I think more about it, I realize that there’s nothing healthy about it. He didn’t only hurt me either. He hurt Liam, he hurt the entire country. I don’t know how I feel about him. Growing up I had this really warped perception of him. I knew that he wasn’t a good person, but he always seemed like he was being a good person in how he treated me. But, now it’s like I can finally look at the bigger picture, and I can see all the terrible things that he’s done for what they really are. But, despite all of that… I miss him. I’ve missed him for years. It’s like I don’t know how to make up my mind about what I feel about him. Do you think you can forgive him?” 

Colt remained silent and stared out the window for a few moments. 

“I don’t have anything to forgive him for,” he finally said, his face completely devoid of emotion.

Mia scoffed and fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Are you kidding? If I were you I’d be pissed at him,” she said incredulously. 

“Yeah, but I’m not as overly emotional as you,” Colt said.

“Oh, please! Being upset with him for being a terrible father and then faking his death doesn’t make me overly emotional. It makes me normal. Did you ever stop to think that maybe it’s okay for you to actually show your emotions?” she asked almost sarcastically. 

Colt didn’t say anything, but she could tell that he was somewhat troubled by all of this. 

“C’mon, Colt. It’s me. Be honest,” she said softly, trying to make her voice sound as comforting as possible. 

“Pull over,” Colt instrunced with a sigh.

“What?” 

“Pull over,” he said again. 

Mia did as he said and he unbuckled his seatbelt and motioned for her to do the same. They both got out of the car and switched seats, Colt getting behind the wheel and taking off down the road once again. Mia pulled her feet up underneath her and sat staring out the window, waiting for him to start speaking.  

She knew what this was now. They had done this a million times when they were teenagers. The only way Mia could get Colt to open up was by going on a drive with him. Getting behind the wheel allowed him to talk about his feelings without having to look at her face because he needed to look at the road in front of him instead. 

“I just need to know that he’s alive. I need to know that he’s okay. It was easier to be mad at him when he was dead because that meant I never had to face him again. But, now that he’s alive all I can feel is relief. He can help us fix this. He can help us fix everything,” he said.

“Colt, you have to know that isn’t true,” Mia said, practically begging him to see that. “Your dad can’t fix this. His way of fixing things was faking his own death and disappearing so that he didn’t have to deal with it anymore. The only way to stop worrying about it all, to stop looking over your shoulder, and to move forward is to come clean.”

“So what, you want me to turn myself into the cops and spend the rest of my life in jail?” he asked, looking at her like she was crazy. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know, but I know that you won’t ever be able to relax until you don’t have to worry about the police popping up at every turn you make,” she said.

The rest of the drive passed by in silence and Colt parked the car in front of a cheap motel, going inside to rent a room while Mia exited the car and went to the back to wake Drake. 

The small room they were staying in had two beds, one bathroom, and a round table right underneath the window that overlooked the parking lot. Mia had stayed in places much more glamorous, but she had also stayed in places worse. She went to the bathroom to freshen up, taking a quick shower to wash away the sweat and tiredness she felt from travelling only to find Drake curled up asleep on one of the motel beds with Colt dozing in and out of sleep on the other when she got out. 

It was the middle of the night, or early morning, but Mia couldn’t find it in herself to go to sleep. She settled into the bed next to Drake, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t stop her mind from reeling. She felt so close to finding out where Kaneko was. She wasn’t sure where things would go when they finally found him, what would happen next. Her mind continued to go through the what ifs until she finally fell into a restless sleep. 

Mia tugged harshly on the hair tie around her wrist as she waited impatiently for Colt to open the P.O. box. She sucked in a deep breath as it opened to reveal… nothing. A sigh escaped her lips, and she felt like she was about to crash as she finally came down from the high she had been on at the thought of finding him the past thirty-eight hours. Her hand curled around Colt’s wrist before slipping into his hand, squeezing it tightly. His shoulders were slumped over and a look of pure disappointment was on his face. 

Mia had never considered the fact that there may not be anything in the P.O. box. She had just assumed that since Kaneko had sent the first clue there, he would continue doing the same thing. She made this entire trip built purely on the thought that he would. Now they were back to nothing. They had no other leads. Nothing else to go on. 

Colt roughly slammed the box closed and turned on his heels, pulling Mia outside and to the car where Drake was waiting for them.

“What is it? What happened?” he asked at the agitated look on both of their faces. 

“There was nothing. No note, no indication of where he is. Nothing,” she said, fighting back the urge to start crying.

She had no idea why she was so sad. Surely, deep down she knew that there was a chance of this happening. But, knowing that didn’t do anything to help the feeling of disappointment that was overwhelming her. Drake drove them back to the motel and the three of them exited the car, the frustration coming off them in waves. Mia opened the door to the motel room, letting out a loud gasp of shock as Drake instinctively grabbed onto her and pulled her behind him, shielding her from the figure that was looming in the corner of the room.

[kweebtrash]

Eres Mia (M)

Messy Chapter 8

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU, Angst, Smut, a smidge of fluff/awkwardness

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings: mentions of drugs/alcohol, talks about suicide, the teeeeniest bit of violence, possibility of emotional manipulation, jealousy/possessiveness

Features: unprotected sex, creampies, rough fingering/finger sucking, oral/throat fucking, a little hint of bondage, rough hair grabbing, squirting, overstretching/gaping, daddy/princess dynamics, choking, relentless/brutal/deep thrusting, a bit of overstimulation/multiple orgasms, also being covered in cum

Word Count: 21,103K

A/N: So explanation about this chapter: It has some cultural references that maybe not everyone will get but I can explain them if anyone wants to send me a question about it. If you haven’t figured it out (or even just made a generalization) Eri is afro-carribean (the exact island is left vague on purpose, but it would be in the latinx part of the cluster). There’s also spanish in the chapter and tbh use google translate and if you still have problems again just message me.

Messy Masterlist   Buy me a Ko-Fi    Other Stories

The Boys Group Chat

Taeyong: 5

Lucas: what???

Ten: 5 what?

Taeyong: my score with Eri is at 5.

Lucas: HOLY FUCK

Taeil: OHHH HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED.

Ten: how?? When??? What???!

Taeyong: last night. Shower. Against the wall. In the bed twice. And our usual against the door.

Lucas: how tf did u manage that??

Lucas: i thought you hated her

Taeyong: i never hated her. It was just the drama and shit

Taeyong: like at the party i just didn’t want a fight to break out. i didn’t want the cops called or anything

Taeyong: so like i kicked her out but it was just because i knew she would have thrown the first punch

Lucas: well you aren’t really wrong

Lucas: i don’t blame you for not wanting the cops to show up

Taeyong: i had under 21 friends there. I didn’t want them to get in trouble

Ten: how did you even manage to get her to fuck you???

Taeyong: she called me actually. She was drunk af but sobered up before she got here

Ten: i cannot believe

Ten: i haven’t even been able to get with her AT ALL lately

Johnny: wtf is going on

Taeil: oooooooffff this is….

Ten: the tea brews itself

Johnny: Taeyong what did you say

Taeyong: i fucked your girl. She came to me instead of coming to you

Yuta: dude this is…

Johnny: don’t go near her again

Johnny: i mean it

Taeyong: dude i’m not scared of you

Taeyong: yall arent even official

Johnny: i don’t care

Johnny: dont touch her

Yuta: johnny quit it

Yuta: you can’t hog her to yourself

Yuta: just like jae can’t hog quinn

Ten: just admit ur jealous and move on.

Johnny: im not jealous

Johnny: you just dont deserve her after the stunt you pulled at the party

Taeyong: clearly i do because shes been thinking about fucking me for a long time

Taeyong: maybe even while shes been fucking you.

(Johnny has left the chat)

Ten: fuck

Yuta: this is getting fucking ridiculous

Yuta: i mean she texted me like when she was with him i think

Yuta: like she didnt care that she was with him and was being cute with me

Lucas: she flirts with everyone

Lucas: do you think she does actually wanna be with him?

Taeyong: who cares

Taeyong: fact of the matter is shes up for grabs

Taeyong: and if I wanna go after her i will

Yuta: WHOA WHOA

Yuta: you mean try and date her?

Ten: taeyong thats not a good idea

Taeyong: i never said id date her

Taeyong: but if shit happens, shit happens

Taeyong: thats all im saying

–

It was strange waking up in bed next to Taeyong. We had never done that before especially since the last time we were together we had to leave the office quickly. He looked strangely innocent when he slept, his shaggy hair ruffled and sticking up in random places and lips slightly pouted. I watched his chest rise and fall with each soft breath for a moment while I tried to keep my head from spinning. This…might have been a bad idea. I was in my feelings for Johnny and I knew that I only hooked up with Taeyong as a sort of rebound/revenge plot. I didn’t want to tell him that but I was sure we were still platonic enough that it didn’t matter. Taeyong wouldn’t make things weird or messy. This would just be a one time thing…or a five time thing. We may have gotten a bit carried away. He was tentative in the shower, making sure that I was still sober enough to be okay. He washed me, helped me wash my hair, and let the heated water run over me to warm me up. And when he slid down to wash my legs his lips met between my thighs and I couldn’t help but give in to his tongue.

He was no Taeil but he knew enough to make me try and steady myself against the slippery tile and grip onto his hair tightly. It was relaxing to finally get off by being eaten out, to just sit back and let him do all the work. It was definitely something I missed. After the shower, we dried off and he put me into some of his pjs (which were tight as all hell on me) and we relaxed in his bed. I got some more water in me and slowly weaned off the rest of the alcohol. Somewhere in the middle of trying to sleep we got lost in each other’s lips which somehow lead to him keeping me against his bedroom wall and fucking me as deep as he could go. Mid morning came and we didn’t want to get up. So of course the next option was to 69 then fuck me into the mattress. Just when I thought I would finally be able to leave he wouldn’t stop kissing me as I got to his bedroom door and we had a proper deja vu moment of last semester.

By the time I actually got home it was late at night and I was sore as all hell. I left him covered in hickies, scratches, and bite marks- my typical calling card- and he left me wanting to sleep for days. I collapsed on my bed unmoving for hours on end and barely making it to class the next day. Johnny was there of course and I tried my best to avoid him like the plague. That was always the hardest part. When we were on our highs, being next to each other radiated chemistry and we would rather pass the time sexting than paying attention. When we were on our lows, everything was ice cold and I detested even being within his vicinity. He still wouldn’t open up to me or even let me tell him that it was okay to cry. He didn’t need to worry about that with me. Of course he wouldn’t listen and we were stuck in a frozen tundra that didn’t let us move one way or the other. I tried my best to instead focus on studying for once. My grades were alright but they could definitely be better and I didn’t want to have to waste more money repeating classes. I spent my nights hitting the books and hoping I could retain enough information to pass. I was holed up in my room as usual when I heard knocking on the front door and i wondered if maybe Quinn forgot their keys. It seemed a little early for them to come home from being with Jae. I set my textbook down onto my desk and padded towards the living room. When I opened the door I hated what I saw.

His eyes were bright red and he reeked of menthol and weed. He leaned against the door frame, a big grin on his face that happiness didn’t seem to be the cause of. “What are you doing here?” I whispered in disbelief.

“What am i doing here?” He licked his lips and chuckled. “What are you doing fucking Taeyong?”

My eyes went wide. “Did he…did he tell you?”

“He told everyone in our chat. 5 times, huh? That a record or something?”

I backed away from him hating how he was acting and being hurt that what I did was blasted over some group chat. I couldn’t believe Taeyong would do something like that. I had stated plenty of times who i had hooked up with but it was on my terms, with my permission, not like gossiping around a watering hole. “You need to leave.” I swallowed hard and didn’t look at him. My voice was too unsteady for that.

I heard the door snap shut and looked up to find him looming over me. “Not a chance. Not until I make you forget all about that stupid bastard.”

He grabbed onto my sweater and pulled me towards him, easily overpowering me to crash his lips against mine. I clawed at his coat, digging into the soft fabric as I tried forcing myself away. I slammed the side of my fist into his chest and pushed him back. “NO! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to come back into my life whenever you decide to! I’m not something to have at your convenience and I sure as hell don’t need you to keep leading me on.”

“Leading you on? Where am I leading you too?” His hands still had a hold of my neck and shoulders which I could not shake.

I could feel the tears already trying to come forth but i grounded myself, dug deep within me to stop them. “Leading me to you. I always get led back to you.”

“You don’t want to get led back to me.” He laughed. “I’m fuckin’ useless!”

I grabbed at his hands, wanting them off me. “Stop that! I’m not your fucking therapy and my purpose is not to fix you.”

“I don’t want to be fixed! I want to be fucked!”

“And that’s another layer to your goddamn problem, Johnny! Life isn’t all about diving into sex to make yourself forget! You need to reevaluate what’s going on in your life before you put your hands on someone else’s.”

“I don’t want you to have Taeyong on you.” He kissed me, gentler this time. “Or Lucas.” Another kiss. “Or Taeil.” A small lick. “Or Yuta.” He sucked on my bottom lip for a second before kissing me again. “Or anyone else.”

“You cant have me all to yourself. That isn’t how this works. You don’t want me, you only want what you see on the surface. You don’t give a shit about what’s beneath and you definitely don’t want to see it.”

He released me from his grasp and scoffed. “The surface? I’ve let you dig inside my brain more than anyone else in my life. You’re stuck inside there now, you can’t move. You know how sick i’ve felt, how weak i am, how less of a man i am-”

“Save that bullshit, Johnny! It’s not true! I told you it was okay to cry! It doesn’t mean you’re less of a man! It just means you’re a normal human being. Men can cry. Men can show emotion and they should. I just wanted to help…to be there for you.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve always had to be the man. There wasn’t any room for me to cry!” He screamed. “You want to talk about not wanting what’s beneath the surface? You’re already there, Eri. You’ve seen everything I could possibly hate to show anyone.”

“And yet you’re coming to me just so you can be buried inside something for an hour or two. That’s what it’s actually like to feel useless and discarded. I know you don’t fucking care and you never will.”

“This is starting to get messy…it’s a clusterfuck and it keeps growing.”

“You just keep fueling the fire.” I said. “I’m not going back. I can’t. My heart can’t take it. I hate seeing you like this. I hate hearing you like this and I want to help. I really do. But i can only take so much before you start swallowing me whole.”

He grabbed me again, pressing me against the door and trapping me between it and his body. “This is how you help.” His breath was heavy against my neck, tickling the sensitive skin there. I shuddered and failed to squirm away from him. “I know you’re not going to fix me. I can do that on my own, eventually, but right here, right now this is what I want.”

“Well i don’t.” The tears fell and i slammed my fist back against the door, pissed entirely that it was happening again. I shouldn’t be crying over him anymore. “I don’t want to be what you push inside of. You don’t want to know what’s really going on with me. You’d run away from me as much as I want to run from you.”

“You think i’d be scared of what you’ve done? What you’ve been through? Its nothing, Eri.” He grabbed my chin and and jerked my head to the side so he could growl in my ear. “I want you. Raw. Dirty.”

“You want me black out drunk? You want me with a broken hand through drywall? You want me bleeding out in a tub with a knife in my hand? You want me laying on the floor unable to breathe and falling in and out of consciousness? You want me running away from the one good thing i’ve ever had in my life?” My voice trembled again. “You want me hiding who i really am from my family? You want me watching myself be the cause of people’s hurt? Because that’s what’s really raw and dirty. Or do you just want to fuck as always?”

He hoisted me onto his waist suddenly, crushing me now to the point where i could barely breathe. I wrapped my legs around his as he shoved his forehead against mine. “Give me it. Give me all of it, Eri.”

I tried not to kiss him, i really did, but my heart shoved me towards it. My tongue slid out to creep into his mouth which he warmly accepted. It was angry, heated, rushed, and broken- like the entirety of our relationship. I was clutching onto him desperately as if I was trying to shock my system back into loathing him. It didn’t matter if I made drunken mistakes or if he made drugged out ones, every time, we somehow found a way back to each other as if we were tied with a string of fate. “Why?” I whispered when I finally caught my breath. “Why don’t you talk to me? For weeks at a time…it hurts…”

“Because i hate the way I feel about you.” He panted.

I licked my lips and hovered them over his. “How do you feel about me?”

He shook his head. “I…don’t worry about it. I’m faded as fuck right now. It won’t matter what I say.”

“Clearly it fucking does.”

“It’s only gonna get more fucked up between us.”

“It already is fucked up! Were fucked up! This whole shit is fucked up! We were supposed to hook up at the summer party and that’s it!!”

“Yeah and here you are fucking Taeyong and Yuta and whoever else you’d let inside you.”

I slapped him. The first time i’d ever wanted to hit him at all. I would’ve never laid a hand on him especially after all he had been through- i never wanted to be that person. Ever. But he crossed a fucking line and that small dangerous part of my brain was a ticking time bomb. He dropped me then and I fell right on my ass. I scrambled to get up as he stood there motionless.

“Dont…dont ever do that.” He whispered harshly.

“I didn’t want to! But don’t you ever come for who I sleep with! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to be a hypocrite because you’re fucking jealous! What are you even jealous for? I’m not your girlfriend!”

“AND YOU NEVER WILL BE!”

I felt a stab of pain through my chest that hurt worse than anything I had ever felt before. Was this…was this what Jungwoo felt? Had karma finally come to get me and pay me back for what I did to him all those years ago? It felt like I couldn’t breathe but I could definitely feel the tears flowing down my cheeks like a river. His eyes went wide and he took a step towards me. I took one back before sprinting to my room. I slammed the door shut, pressing myself against it and sliding to the floor.

He pounded his fists against it, begging me to open it. I was afraid he was going to break through the wood with how hard he was rattling the door. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my thighs, staining my pajamas pants with tears.

“I-im sorry, ok?”

No you’re not.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

Well it is now, so fuck you.

“I don’t know what I really want, Eri.”

I guess…i don’t really know either. Should you even be my boyfriend at this point? What would I do once I had you? Would my fear of love go away? Or would you make it worse?

“I like when we spend time together. You’re cool as fuck but we…we cant be like that. You know that right? I don’t get with people and stay with them. We can only fuck…”

I hate you. Go away. Leave me alone.

“I guess i’m broken or whatever you want to call it but i’m not a charity case. I don’t want you to pity me or feel like you have to take care of me. Like you said, it’s not your job. But for right now…this is how I handle stuff, just like how you handle stuff your way, you know?”

By being a drunk partied out mess, i know. Hungry for attention, starving for someone to care for them, and completely barren of love but wanting to fill that void somehow.

“I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine for a long time. My anxiety never used to be this bad. I never even used to have night terrors or panic attacks. It just got worse after…after the first time i got…you know, what I told you about before. Then college happened and it was so much pressure and I wanted to make my mom proud and happy and take care of her because my dad never did. You know even when i felt so fucking empty around Rixi, i didn’t sleep for 2 whole days because I was studying my ass off for midterms just to keep my straight A’s?” He let out a soft chuckle. “I have a 4.0, hookup with dozens of girls, work three jobs, go to the gym, and try and do my art. When i say that i run on energy drinks and coffee i’m not kidding.”

That’s adding to your anxiety, stupid. And so is the weed. And your inability to FUCKING communicate. Why do you have to be such a stupid dumb….MAN all the time?!

“I know that doesn’t matter to you-”

It does because I know you’re hardworking and care about what you do. You’re a passionate soul and i love that about you. You’re so dedicated.

“But i dont know…i guess I wanted to tell you anyway. I’m not making excuses. I know what I do is my own damn fault but i just wanted you to know.”

I shifted slightly and reached up for the door handle, scooting away to pull it open slightly. I peeked my head through the gap and he looked at me, eyes a bit puffy as if he had been crying too. He wiped his nose and made it seem like he was put together in his typical Johnny fashion. I still didn’t say anything but he crept his hand closer to me and extended his pinky. I looked at it for a few seconds before locking mine around it. He was quiet for a bit, the tension remaining thick and heavy. The quietness was only interrupted by a few sniffles from the both of us. I wiped away at my tears, wanting to remind myself that this was proof. This was what always happened. Either i ended up drunk or ended up crying when it came to him. Or both for that matter.

I truly felt like i should continue to make myself suffer with him. One look of those soft brown eyes and honey-sweet lips would draw me in and his soothing voice would whisper caring thoughts and expressions. I saw the blushes he had when he talked to me, the way he seemed embarrassed or nervous, but there were always underlying signs that proved he didn’t like me. Most blatantly when he said-no, yelled- that i would never be his girlfriend. Logic told me to run. When had i ever put a man before me or anyone for that matter? Masochism told me that I enjoyed the pain of being rejected over and over again and that it was a game. Lust told me that i loved when he got jealous and growled in my ear. I wanted him to tell me that I was his as he fucked me so deep and hard that I couldn’t move. Greed told me that I wanted him all to myself. I wanted all the attention, all the love, all of him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And rationality? That bitch was nowhere to be found.

“What saved you…when you tried to um…kill yourself?”

My head snapped up at the question. It hadn’t been posed to me since I met Quinn three years ago. It was something that I blocked from my brain and never reopened. But this was a test, to see if he could really handle what was fucking wrong with me. I squeezed his pinky tighter and finally croaked. “Daniella. She’s uh…she’s my little sister. I traumatized a 10 year old by bleeding out in a bathtub and she called the police and my mom. She tried to stop the bleeding. She cried but she kept pushing through. She was….so mature in that moment. More than I had ever been. She wanted to be there when they admitted me. My mom didn’t believe what was going on- more so in a sense that she didn’t want to believe that her kid was sick. Just like she didn’t want to believe I was gay at first. Eventually, she saw past it. She saw how much I needed her and how much we didn’t want to lose each other. But yeah…that was…it was Dani.”

“You know, her Quinceanera is in a week and I can’t believe she’s already 15. It’s weird how time flies…how I can’t exactly remember it all.” I continued.

“Are you going? To the party i mean.” He asked.

I nodded. “I have to. I’m like in the…so it’s basically almost like a bridal party. It’s real weird. But they pair us up and we walk down an aisle and Dani will come out with her big poofy dress and everyone will look at her and sing ’Las Mañanitas’ blah blah blah. It’s a precursor wedding and weird tradition I hated. So i never had one. And now, mom gets to put all her spite of her not having one and me not having one into an over the top expensive party for Dani, but you know…don’t help me with my student loans or anything.”

“Oh…sounds like a…journey.” I let out a small laugh and he crept closer towards the gap. I opened the door a little bit more. “It was my mom for me.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I was ready to jump off my school building after I got with her. I would see her everywhere on my social media and around town. I had to hide everything about how she made me feel and I felt like I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I sat on the ledge for a long time, thinking about it and staring at the ground. Just as I decided I was going to jump, I got a text from my mom. It said ‘hi honey, hope you have a great day at school! I love you a lot.’” He rubbed at his eyes and looked away from me. “I still have it saved on my phone- transferred over each time I got a different one. I look at it sometimes when i feel like utter shit. Then I call her.” He sighed deeply and I pulled him closer to me, the door falling open wider. “Have I ever told you thank you?”

“W-what?” I asked, stunned.

“Thank you. For being there for me. When shit hit the fan basically. You and Jae pretty much helped me through a lot. Is that like…a part of working through this? Admitting when you’ve been helped?”

I nodded. “It’s a start…”

He got even closer and kissed me, our pinkies tightening and lips slow and steady. My will was wavering and I was kicking myself again. It never failed. I pulled away and turned my head away from his. He sighed and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make up for a lot of things, Johnny.”

“I know, princess. I know.”

“No, you don’t get to say that word to me anymore. That part is done. It’s only for people who know how to communicate.”

“Ok…” he said simply.

I let go of his hand and moved away from the door. He came through fully, sitting beside me now and set his arm around my waist. He kissed my temple then rested his chin on my shoulder. We stood quiet for a moment, trying to process everything. Nothing had gotten better at all. Everything was more confusing and more painful. I didn’t feel good and I didn’t want him here but at the same time I did. I looked over at his sad eyes, knowing he was truly sorry but still cementing the fact that I would never be his. Hurting was all I was good for and I accepted the karmic punishment.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and his eyes drew themselves to me. I laid nothing but whispers against his lips drawing him in to press himself against me and steal my breath away in a kiss. Gradually, our clothes began disappearing until we were naked in my bed, hands between each others thighs, stroking and thrusting until we were dirty with each other’s release. He didn’t let me go instead opting to grab my hips and keep me flush against me. “I want me on you. Not any of those assholes.”

“I’m not yours…”

“Tonight you are.” He dug his blunt nails into my hips and sunk his teeth into the base of my neck. It hurt with how hard he was biting down but I knew what he was doing; marking me so that whoever i was with next could see the deep bruise he was trying to leave behind. I clawed at his shoulders, whimpering pathetically and about to beg him to stop but he pulled away, pressing softer kisses to the deep marks instead. I shoved his head away seeing the playful smirk he had on his face.

“Ass…”

“You want a bite mark on your ass too?” he asked coyly.

I rolled my eyes and commanded him to get a towel to clean up the mess he made on my stomach. He gave me another kiss before scooting off the bed and heading towards my door. For a moment I thought I imagined it and had to blink twice but i saw him licking his fingers- the same ones that were inside me just a minute ago. He had never done that. Usually he’d wipe them on my sheets or something. I laid back and closed my eyes, tossing away any ideas of what that meant. I felt him on the bed again, gently wiping away his cum off my skin before laying himself between my thighs, his head on my chest. That also surprised me and i wished I knew what the fuck was going on in his head. Was it from all the weed? I didn’t really know how much he smoked before he got here. It could’ve been what helped set off his emotions and express his jealousy about Taeyong.

I wanted to pry at his stupid decisions and actions some more but I was slowly running out of energy to deal with arguing, anxiety, and my mood swings in such a short amount of time. I decided to lay in my self hatred with Johnny on top of me, our breaths flowing together into an easier rhythm. I closed my eyes and set my hand on his head. “Pet my hair.” He grumbled.

“You think that a half fuck is going to solve this?” I said, ignoring his request.

“No. We’re doing what we do best, hurting each other.”

“But why does it have to be like this?”

“Because it’s just who we are, Eri. It’s what we do. It’s how we function together. You want to call it off?”

“Call what off?”

“Being fuck buddies.” Yes was what I should have said. Instead, I shook my head and kept my eyes away from him. “Good…Because I don’t want to stop fucking you.”

“I don’t either…” I said softly. I ran my fingers through his hair now, pushing it back and feeling his sides that were grown out. "Remember when you asked me to feel alive?”

He nodded.

“Do that for me. Maybe me feel like I don’t fucking hate you for what you’ve done. Like i don’t want you more than I need to.”

He stilled against me and didn’t say anything. I could feel him looking at me and when I finally had the courage to meet his eyes I saw that he seemed to be hurt by my confession. Eventually, he mumbled a response. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

"Mostly i hate myself.” I hate myself for loving you.

“Dont, baby…” He turned my face towards his to continue our kiss. “You don’t need to hate yourself.”

“Just shut up, Johnny. Fuck me already.”

“Fine.” He growled and gave quick bites over my breast making me arch against him. I hissed slowly, gripping onto his shoulders and digging my nails into his skin. He morphed his bites into kisses, working to gather my nipple in his mouth to suck slowly but hungrily. Eventually, his kisses got even lower as he discarded my breasts in favor of moving down to the softness of my stomach. A little nibble beneath my rib cage jerked my body towards his mouth, edging my hips into eager swivels. I parted my lips to let out a sweet sigh and a small plead for him to keep going. His tongue dipped into my belly button, making me squirm against the wet heat. I inched my hands back to his hair to return him to my lips and stop his teasing but he had other plans. His hands suddenly came crashing down on my wrists, pinning them to the bed and practically crushing them. I winced at the pain and asked him to ease up but he only snapped at me.

“Shut up and don’t touch me, got it?”

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, nervously.

“Shut. Up.”

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, swallowing hard and full of worry more than sensuality. I tried taking deep breaths but I felt like I was getting more nervous. Johnny was quiet as ever but I could feel his breath tickling against my sensitivity. I licked the dryness from my lips and just as I was about to try and pull away from his hands I felt it. It was small and gentle, just the tip of his tongue working over my clit. My entire body tensed and I remained frozen in place. I feared scaring him, or worse, triggering him. We retreated into minutes of silence that made my heart race with worry. “J-Johnny? A-are you-?”

There were butterfly kisses to my clit before his tongue reached out once again. It covered the entirety of my lower lips, pressing a slick heat over me and gathering the cum left behind from his fingering to trail it back to my clit. He trapped the bit of nerves between his lips, suckling lightly. I knew he was being cautious due to nervousness and unease but it was also amazingly tender and sweet. I dug my teeth into my bottom lip and let out a moan hoping that he would take it as praise and a sign to continue. There was another long pause and my fingers curled in anticipation for more but there was nothing. I opened my eyes and looked down at him.

He was stationary, his eyes glancing over my center and lips trembling. The grip on my wrists got tighter, too tight for even my own liking. “Johnny…you need to let me go.” I said softly.

“No. I-i cant…”

“You can stop now, it’s ok but you’re hurting me. Come up here. Come kiss me, baby.” He looked defeated but saw the pain in my face and finally let my wrists go. I didn’t immediately shake out the numbing feeling and instead waited for him to crawl back up my torso. I held onto him as tight as I could, covering his lips, cheeks, neck in excited pecks. He did it. With me. It wasn’t complete or full or satisfying by any means but it meant so much. “You did so good, baby boy. So, so good.” I cooed.

He hid in my neck and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head quickly. “Don’t be. It was good. A great start, ok?”

“I wanted to try…a little at least so you don’t feel like i did when we fucked in the bathroom at the party. You shouldn’t want to feel alive with me because you’re numb. I don’t want that at all.”

“I just wanna feel good is all…” I held onto him tighter. “I don’t want to feel like i’m going to be thrown away.”

“I-i wont…” He swiftly slipped out of the bed and returned with a condom on. He whispered as he pulled my legs around him, pressing himself at my entrance. “I wont…”

“But you can’t promise that.” I swallowed hard and felt him sink into me inch by inch. The rest of my thoughts were voided by the methodical pace of him stretching me open. He ignored what I had said and instead focused on kissing everywhere he could reach as he thrusted slowly. My hands traced the length of his spine, resting in the center of his back and keeping him close. Inside my head I pleaded for him to not go slow, to not be intimate and stir up more dreadful feelings inside the pit of my stomach. Please just fuck me so I can be reminded of how shitty you are. Don’t remind me of how cute and caring you can be. I’m begging you Johnny.

I knew he couldn’t hear me so of course he didn’t stop rolling his hips to have his cock hit every space within me. He was panting softly, gentle moans mixing in every once in awhile. They sounded so precious and I couldn’t help but bury myself in his lips again. His hand pulled mine away from his back just so our fingers could intertwine. Nonono, stop that. For the love of god don’t do this to me.

He squeezed my hand tight and I felt my tears resurface. This is what scared me the most. Not him leaving or him ignoring me or throwing me away. This Johnny, the human, sentimental, emotional man that could have me fall into his arms (and bed) at the snap of his fingers. I was helpless against him and I just craved more and more torture. He kissed away my tears and nudged our foreheads together. “Hey…it’s okay.” He breathed.

It is not okay. It will never be ok. But he took care of me, stilling every so often to regain his composure as i could feel him throbbing and ready for another release. Worst of all was that I wanted him too. I wanted him to feel good, another hurtful self sacrifice because I cared so much about him. I gave him a soft plea to cum for me, which he took instantly. His free hand slipped between us, his thumb pressing small acts of pleasure into my clit as his other hand never left mine. He only squeezed my fingers tighter while my walls squeezed him the same way. Just at the very end his hips made quicker snaps, hitting the back of my thighs and making my back arch from the mattress. And in one fell breath i felt my stomach heat up and the most comforting sensation flowing within me.

My cheeks flushed as I had never felt anything like it before and wondered what the hell did he do differently. Maybe it was because i was so damn love drunk that it made everything seem better when i was with him. It wasn’t until he jerked out of me so harshly that I snapped my thighs shut. “O-ow! Johnny, what the-”

“The condom broke.” He trembled.

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe what I had heard.

“Eri. The fucking condom broke.”

I looked down and could see his cum flowing out of me and staining the bed sheets, while the rubber had a slight tear across the tip. Our eyes met and panic slammed into me at full speed. “O-oh my fucking god. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.”

“You’re on birth control right?” His voice was an octave or two higher.

“Well no shit! But it doesn’t magically mean it’s 100% full proof! People still get pregnant while on birth control.”

“I’M FULLY AWARE OF THAT ERI.”

“DON’T YELL AT ME.”

“I’M SORRY I JUST…” I noticed him staring at me which made me more uncomfortable.

“What? What else is wrong?” He shrugged but continued to stare. “Johnny. What is it?!”

“Nothing! It’s just…i mean-”

“Oh, you asshole!!” I flung my pillow straight at his face. “I’m literally fucking panicking and you think cumming inside me is hot!!”

“I’M SORRY!!! I’ve never done it before and it just…looks good, ok?!”

“You are the absolute worse and I CANNOT stand you!” I covered my face that was getting heated up by the second. How could he think about that while I was panicking? How could I think it felt good and perfect when i absolutely loathed cum (and was panicking)? We truly were fucking stupid.

“Hey, we’ll be ok. I know we will.” He said softly, reaching for my hand which i pulled away.

“Easy for you to say. You have the easy way out in case that happens.” I grumbled.

He kissed my forehead and laid beside me. “No I don’t, because I wouldn’t leave.”

I turned away from him, shoving my face into the mattress as I felt his cum sticky between my thighs. “Yeah right…”

“I’m serious….i’m not gonna be like my dad.”

“Alright well, we’re gonna stop talking about this. I’m gonna shower and you can go home so I can die in peace.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not gonna die. It’s just cum.”

“I’m gay! All I am is dramatic!” I huffed as I felt all flustered now and wanted to get away from him. I stood up and cringed at the feeling of it sliding down my leg now. I awkwardly shuffled to pick up my already cum covered towel just to keep me decent enough to get to the bathroom.

“Can you stop saying that? Because i’m like…not a girl.”

I looked back at him. “Well no fucking shit, Johnny. It’s just a blanket term because you wouldn’t understand everything I identify as. Just roll with it. I don’t have time to explain.”

I grabbed my phone and went to the bathroom, locking the door tight. I tossed off my towel and turned on the water, sitting in the tub under the spray so i could suffer in silence. Eventually i ended up plugging the drain so i could sit in hot water for a bit and try and calm my nerves. I tried calling Quinn but didn’t get an answer, even texted them and still got nothing. They were still probably up Jaehyun’s ass or Taeil or someone else. I don’t know. I dialed again and waited patiently.

“Hello?”

“Doyoung, I need you please.”

“Be right there.”

He hung up as that was all he needed to know that something was wrong. I washed up, making sure to get as much of the cum out of me as possible, then rinsed and dried off. As i opened the bathroom door, Johnny was standing in the doorway, hand raised as he was going to knock. I glared at the lit blunt between his lips.

“’M leavin’.”

“Good. Bye. I have someone else coming over.”

He scoffed. “Wow. Okay. Fuck you too.” He turned away from me and headed towards my front door slamming it harshly behind him.

He made me so fucking irritated with his hot and cold bullshit. I trudged to my room and tossed my towel in the hamper, picking up my discarded pajamas and putting them back on. Around 15 or so minutes later Doyoung was in my room with an absolute cringey look on his face. “Look, i’m sorry but i needed someone to tell. You and Quinn are my closest friends and they’re not here. Please Doyoung…i know it’s gross.”

“You liked it…” he whispered.

“Please don’t remind me. I hate myself completely.”

“Why do you keep doing this, Eri? You are literally worth more than that.”

“I don’t know! I wish I knew. I wish I could just leave him but I can’t. Every time I’m mad, he shows me that side of him that I absolutely love.”

“That’s emotional manipulation.”

“It is not!” I protested. “Well…uh…maybe it is? But I don’t think he would be doing it intentionally? Why would he? He can get with anyone. He has gotten with a lot of people. I don’t think I would be any different. After all he blatantly said i’d never be his girlfriend.”

“And how did you feel about that?”

“I cried. Instantly. It hurt so fucking bad.”

“So we’ve come to the conclusion that a) he’s a fuckboy, b) he doesn’t want to be with you, c) he’s emotionally manipulative, and d) he couldn’t care less about what transpired tonight.” Doyoung gave me a shady look which made me shrink away like a scolded puppy.

“Well technically he said he would be there for me and then I kicked him out so…”

“And now you’re sticking up for him?”

“I’m not! I’m just stating facts. Doyoung, i know you’re totally and completely right. But i just…it feels weird. It feels different somehow.”

“I’m kind of sick of giving you advice and you ignoring it. It makes it seem like you don’t even care what I say.”

“No i do!” I grabbed onto his arm, sadly. “I do! i swear! I’m just a fucking idiot. I like to fuck up everything and keep myself down.”

“Why can’t you see that there are better people for you? Even ones that are right in front of you?”

I rested my head on his shoulder and set my hand in his, squeezing tight. “Doyoung, how can I…how can I stop when i love him?”

“It’s not easy to stop loving someone but…no offense- well a little offense because this is going to be hard to hear- you stopped loving Jungwoo because he loved you too much, you can stop loving Johnny because you love him too much too. You can run away and leave without giving him any explanation.”

I pulled away from Doyoung completely.

“I’m sorry for saying that and hurting you, but maybe it’s the kind of shit you need to snap out of it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And if you’re so worried about what might happen I can go to the pharmacy for you.”

“I-i just need time to think…” i said quietly.

“Well, you’ve got three days until it’s ineffective-or less effective or whatever. You can let me know ok?”

I nodded and felt him crush me to his chest. I held onto him for a long time, happy to feel a friends pure love rather than the tainted mess from my heart.

–

Johnny’s POV

“FUCKING SHIT!” I threw the beer bottle I just finished against my wall, watching it shatter into pieces. What the actual fuck just happened between Eri and I? Tonight was fucked up- no, beyond fucked up to the point where I just ended up more confused and angry then I was before. I paced back and forth across my room while thoughts zoomed in my brain. I tried to break everything down and figure out what i could so I could attempt to get my mind straight.

I was pissed off at Taeyong. He was such a smug little fuck about hooking up with Eri, blasting it all over the chat. And why were they counting how many times they hooked up with her like it was some sort of game? I didn’t want him anywhere near Eri. She was mi-. I stopped pacing for a moment. She wasn’t mine. She is not yours Johnny. She is NOT yours.

My pacing resumed. He didn’t deserve to touch her. And neither did those other assholes. I wanted her to myself. She’s mi-. As i grew close to the door i slammed my head against it, not too hard but enough to try and get it through my skull that Eri was not mine.

I had told her she would never be my girlfriend because I was angry. I knew it hurt her the second it came out of my mouth and I wished I could’ve taken it back. Our conversation was so back and forth she probably thought I was crazy. One minute I was mad, the other I wanted to be with her, comfort her, be inside her and make her feel good. I didn’t want her to feel like shit because of me but I was failing horribly.

What even possessed me to touch her like that? So slow and gentle? It felt like I was having an out of body experience and I watched who I wanted to be for her come out and take over. It was what I wanted to give her for the longest time. Something more stable to hold onto rather than whatever the fuck I was now. But that didn’t go over so well for my feelings. I was faded and more emotional than ever, a bad combination. I wanted to tell her what I felt for her but i don’t even think i’m too sure myself. Feelings were there but what kind? Did I have a crush? I liked her? Wanted to keep being fuck buddies? Did I love her? My body shuddered at the thought. I had never been in love before so how could I know?

I’ve always wanted to be in love and have someone to care about. I knew familiar love and friendship love but not romantic love. I wanted to take my girlfriend to the beach, to Korea, to visit countries across the globe. Take pictures of us for vacation scrapbooks and eat everything we could ever dream of. Go hiking with her and hold her hand so she wouldn’t trip on a branch and hurt herself. Laugh when we thought of a memory we had together or hold her as she cried. But i was also scared shitless of all of that. Could I even be that good of a person to her? I didn’t want to end up being a carbon copy of my dad. Why would I want to be the cause of my love’s suffering and leave them behind with a kid I didn’t care about?

Fuck.

The stupid condom.

I tossed myself onto my bed and groaned. I was scared of that too. I’m only 23 and work at a fucking coffee shop, what the hell was I gonna do with a kid? I’m sure we were gonna be okay but…it still made me a little queasy. Except for the fact that I thought cumming inside her was fucking hot. I was a complete jackass for thinking about it at a time like that but I couldn’t help it. Like me: worried to all hell and back about the condom breaking, also me: holy hell I want to do it again. I facepalmed myself and let out another frustrated groan. I was ready to just throw myself out a window rather than face my embarrassment and mistakes. Now Taeyong was probably going to be up her ass and I swear to god if he got with her I was personally going to go to his apartment and kick his ass.

I sat up and started taking off my clothes, figuring I could just sleep all this shit away and ignore it. I flung everything to a corner of my room and reached over to shut off my desk lamp. I noticed my little keychain that I had got at the bookstore resting on the desk. I picked it up and shut off the light before snuggling deep under the blankets. I kept the keychain close to me thinking of nothing but Eri as I went to sleep.

A week had passed since that weird half fight/half fuck between us and I was starting to get a taste of my own medicine. I hated not hearing from her and I found myself constantly checking my phone to see if by chance I missed anything. She hadn’t even posted on any of her social media that I followed her on. Whenever I would hang out with the guys at lunch none of them talked about her, not even Lucas. I had no idea what was going on. I tried to keep myself busy with school work but found myself thinking of her more than I needed too. Sometimes those thoughts implanted little sinister buds of sinfully delicious fantasies and in the midst of being hurt and confused about where we stood I was jacking off to thoughts of her more than I needed too. It was multiple times a day, whenever I was at home and it was starting to get on my nerves. I shouldn’t have been thinking about her like that when I was the cause of most of this mess but it couldn’t be helped. I was a stupid slut and would rather focus on that then the pain I caused her. I was in the middle of rutting against my hand and mattress only a few seconds away from cumming when my phone beside my pillow lit up. The brightness in the darkness of my room distracted me and I look at the screen, ready to ignore the notification until I saw who it was from. I wiped my hand on my sheets and snatched my phone up, unlocking it and going to the message.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: hey

I typed in my simple response quickly.

Hey

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: come over

Fuck…did she actually want to hook up?

What for babe?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇:  we need to talk.

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: asap

Talk about what?

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: come over and i’ll tell u dumbass

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: I mean it

Give me like 15 mins. Im busy

🦇BatOuttaHell🦇: fine but dont keep me waiting.

I bit my lip and set my phone aside. It made me nervous to think about what she wanted to talk with me about. A small part of me was hoping that I could still get laid and have amazing makeup sex. But first…

–

Eri’s POV

I hated that I had to do this. With every fiber in my entire being. It was definitely up there with one of the worst decisions I would have to make. I didn’t want to talk to him or even make him think that I had forgiven him. I had purposefully ignored him like he had done to me so many times before. Even when he sent me the occasional text I left him on read. It felt good to have that power but I had to cut my reign of terror short when I realized that my problem needed a solution and fast. Time was running out and I exhausted all my resources. I knew I was going to regret this but it had to be done. My stomach was in knots as I waited for him. 15 minutes was a lie, it was over a half hour before he showed up at my place. His hair was damp and he smelled of fresh cologne and soap. I stared at him quizzically when I opened the door. He smiled at me, looking like he was happy to see me while I was mortified to see him. He wasn’t wearing anything fancy either. Just a white crew neck and some skinny jeans and winter coat but he still looked so damn good. Stupid fucker.

“Sooo…” he started, chewing on his bottom lip a little bit. I yanked him into my apartment and dragged him towards my room, slamming the door behind us. “Oh shit, ok.” He grabbed at his shirt, about to take it off when I stopped him.

“No! None of that!” I swatted at his hands. “That’s not what I called you over here for.”

“Oh…” he said, dejected.

I rolled my eyes. “Look, i don’t have any other choice. You were the last person on my list, so don’t like flatter yourself.”

“What is going on? You’re making me suspicious.”

I sighed. “Will you be my boyfriend?” Oh jesus christ no, not what I meant!!

“Excuse me WHAT?!” He screamed.

“AHHH FUCK, I MEANT PRETEND. PREEEETENND. PRETEND TO BE MY BOYFRIEND!!” I tried to correct myself.

“AGAIN, WHAT, AND I CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH, THE FUCK?!”

“Ugh! Okay okay, back peddling.” I took a deep breath trying not to fuck this up even more than I already had. “Just hear me out ok?”

“You better start talking asap, bro!”

“I need someone to come with me to my sister’s Quinceanera this weekend. I have literally asked every single one of my guy friends and they’re all "conveniently” busy. I seriously need help.“

"Why can’t you take Quinn or something?!”

I sighed. “Johnny, if I show up with a girl as my date my grandparents would disown me and it would make a huge scene at the party and I can’t take that away from Dani. My family has this thing where they obsess over asking me if I have a boyfriend or not. I’m the oldest cousin so according to them I should be married and pregnant by now. My mom tries her best to keep them at bay but if I just show up with someone they will at least be civil for this party. Please. I don’t have anyone else. I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t a huge deal for me.”

“Well that sounds like a personal problem. Sucks to suck.”

I was shocked that that was actually his response. It was a good effort I guess but I was stuck doing this alone. I hoped to all hell nothing would happen that would ruin this for my little sister. It was completely stupid that my family judged me based on who I loved or wanted to be with, that every question about my life had to revolve around me having a man. It always started with a blanket question, one that seemed innocent enough, but then veered into “when will you get a boyfriend?” territory. Not only that but I still had to be on the down low whenever I was with them. Dani knew and so did my mom who was still working to be supportive but that was it. I knew I couldn’t tell other people in my family. If I went alone I could just suck it up and be miserable the whole time which at this point looked to be my only option. “Sorry to bother you…” I said as i sat down at my desk. I lowered my head onto the top and tried to figure out a way to smooth things over with my family for one night.

“Eri…is this really that serious?”

I raised my head up and looked at him. “Yes. I just want things to go right with this, for her sake. I’m literally the black sheep of the family. I’m darker than everyone, my hair is curlier, i’m queer, i play in a heavy metal band, i’m not ultra feminine, and i’m as far away from traditional as possible.” I tried again to convince him. It was turning out to be more pathetic than I hoped for. “I will promise, like absolutely promise, to be nice and civil with you if you do this for me. Please Johnny?”

“What do I get in return?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Whatever you want. I’m too desperate to fight you on this.”

“Anything I want? You’re serious?” He asked. I could almost see the deviousness going on in his head and instantly regretted it. But I swallowed my pride.

“Anything.”

“Ok. I’ll think about what I want and let you know. I gotta dress up or something?”

“So you’ll do it?” I practically jumped out of my chair.

“Yeah, i’ll do it.”

“Fuck, you stupid bastard! You’re the best!” I threw myself on him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight hug. “It’s tomorrow night. We have to drive two hours to get to where I live. It won’t end until late so we can get a motel if we’re too tired to drive back.”

“A motel, huh?”

“Don’t even start, please.” I went to pull away but he set his hand on the small of my back, keeping me close.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He lowered his head towards mine, getting dangerously close to my lips. I swallowed hard.

“W-well…wear something nice and don’t be an asshole. Um…pretend like I’m the greatest thing to ever grace your life? Hold my hand or something…or hold me in general. Follow all my lies and try to remember them. Be prepared to be grilled by every woman in my family and subject to a bunch of sexist and misogynistic comments from my stupid uncles. They’ll be some kids there running around and loud ass music. Um…you may have to dance with me.”

“Oof…I’m not a great dancer.”

“It’s fine, i don’t dance much either. Oh and don’t get drunk. Oh! And don’t let me get drunk. I think that’s the gist of it. I may think of other stuff on the way there. Is that all ok?”

He cupped my face in his hand while the other held mine. He lowered himself to my lips and kissed me gently, barely teasing my tongue with his own and making my heart feel like it was about to burst. When he pulled away my lips kept following him not wanting to let go. He chuckled softly and looked directly at me. “Mi amor, siento que no puedo vivir sin ti.”

I shoved him away. “BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

He cackled loudly, clutching at his stomach. “Is that “boyfriend” enough for you?”

“Where the hell did you pull that from?!”

“You said it’s a Quinceanera right? I figured I could put my 6 years of Spanish class to good use. How’d I do?” He was still laughing up a storm while I was ready to call off the whole thing. I couldn’t believe he would be able to possibly understand my stupid family.

“How much do you know?” I asked.

“Enough. I’ll mess up every now and again but I think i could pull off a conversation if I needed to.”

“Christ. Ok…If they say something to you just pretend you don’t know anything. I know they’re gonna talk shit and then you can come back and tell me. That’s all we’re gonna do, ok? Ok. I’m gonna throw up.”

“Why? I won’t mess this up, okay? I know she’s important to you. We’ll be civil remember?”

I looked up at him and nodded. “Thank you, Johnny. Seriously.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s cool. So what time is my hot date picking me up?”

“Probably around 4, i’m sure I’ll need to help set up and stuff. And help with makeup. We can get dressed at the motel because I do not want to walk in heels in the snow and i also don’t want to mess up my dress. Where I live my mom said that the snow is more melted and they have clearer sidewalks so I should be good there.”

“Alright, sounds good…so…what’s our plan for tonight?”

I raised my brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I came all the way here and I figured we might…We could practice for being a couple tomorrow.”

“You’re going to give me a bunch of hickies and I can’t have that.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. All you do is bite and scratch like a little chihuahua.” He laughed.

I stomped my foot down and huffed. “I am not a little chihuahua!”

“How about I make them where everyone can’t see? Then we won’t have any problems, hmm?”

I crossed my arms and pursed my lips together, hating how devilishly convincing he could be. He was a natural born flirt and it made me want to punch him. I nibbled my bottom lip contemplating if I should really give him the satisfaction. He pulled his coat off and yanked his shirt over his head, showing me his perfectly toned chest and how low slung his jeans were. Asshole. I grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans and pulled him close so we could crash our lips together. He pushed me back onto the bed and crawled on top of me, shoving his tongue past my teeth and coaxing me to moan in his mouth. I grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him down so I could roll on top of him. “What’s the real reason you were late?” I asked as I dug my nails into his stomach.

“Jacking off.” He grabbed at my tshirt and tried pulled it up but I shoved his hands away and pinned his wrists down.

“I knew it, pig.”

“You act like you don’t do it. How many times have you showed me what you like doing when you’re alone, hmm? When we facetime and I call you late at night?” He teased.

“Shut up, Johnny. You’re so fucking annoying.” I dove my head down to bite at his chest, leaving harsh kisses in my wake. He tried moving his hands but i kept him pinned, liking the fact that he was the one squirming for once. I moved just a bit lower to land a few bites before licking through the center of his chest and up his throat. His entire body practically caved in on itself with how hard he shuddered.

“Fu-fuck…” He licked his lips and tossed his head back, moaning deeply. I blushed as I watched, feeling myself become victim to how good he looked. I resisted the urge to suck on his neck and went back to his chest, taking his nipple into my mouth. I knew this would truly make him squirm but i didn’t expect how hard his hips would buck. I moved my head away from him to over hover his face.

“You’re not being a very good boy are you?”

He opened one eye to glare at me. “When am I ever?”

“I think I should stop. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Oh don’t you play that game with me, Eri! That’s not fair!”

I moved away from him completely and made my way over to open my bedroom door. “Out.”

He sad up with an incredulous look on his face. “You’re kidding?!”

“You’re being bad so you get nothing. C'mon now.”

“I’ll be good then! Whatever the fuck that means!”

I shook my head. “I’ll pick you up at 4, ok?”

“Fuckin’ hell!” He got up, his jeans visibly tighter and pulled his shirt back over his head. He grabbed his coat and made his way out of my room with the biggest pout on his face. Just as he had stepped out of the door frame he turned back to me. “Can I ask you something?” He propped his forearm above his head on the frame and looked down at me.

“What?”

“Besides us freaking out…did you…did you like it when I came inside you?

My entire face felt like it was on fire and took a step back as if that would somehow prevent him from seeing my embarrassment. "I-i-i-i have n-noooo idea what you’re t-talking about!” I stuttered.

“I mean, did you like the way it felt inside you? Like how hot or how deep it was?”

“Please stop talking!” My voice was now a squeaky whisper.

Johnny smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I guess that answers my question, doesn’t it? See ya tomorrow, Eri. And don’t forget, you owe me one.” He winked at me and headed towards my front door, leaving me more flustered than ever.

–

I spent the whole two hour ride telling him about which one of my aunts would grill him the most and which cousin got pregnant first and who’s baby daddy was a complete failure and which of my uncles was most likely to get drunk and cause a scene. I was sure he wouldn’t remember any of it but I was trying to over prepare him for the shit show that was my family. I also needed him to make a good impression so it would look like he was actually happy to be dating me. Fake dating me of course. We checked into the motel first and I spent most of my time being frustrated with my hair and trying to curl it the way I wanted it. It just barely cooperated and i wasted about half a can of hairspray trying to keep everything in place.

My makeup was more softer and neutral than normal to go with my pastel pink floor length sweetheart neckline dress (which made me feel lowkey so pretty). Dani’s theme colors were pink and mint so I was able to at least wear something I would like. Just as i had slipped on my gown i realized there was no way I could reach the zipper in the back. I huffed and squirmed, trying my damndest until I finally gave up. I opened the bathroom door just a crack and peeked out. My heart basically exploded and I wouldn’t normally say that my basement could flood in two seconds but this was definitely one of those times.

Johnny was checking himself out in the large mirror on the other side of the room. He wore black pinstripe pants that hugged his ass like a dream. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled to the elbows and a fitted grey vest covered his torso. He adjusted the black tie around his neck, fussing with it until he seemed comfortable enough. He had an extremely nice watch on one wrist and a silver chain bracelet on the other. A few simple rings decorated his fingers and his black dress shoes seemed to sparkle in the fluorescent lighting. His hair was even freshly faded and his bangs trimmed and slicked back. Lord have mercy I wanted to die. I swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths before I called out to him.

His honey brown eyes shot up to look at me and I gripped the handle of the bathroom door tighter. “What?”

“Could you um…help me zip my dress?”

He sauntered over to me I tried to keep myself within the tiny gap of the open door but he pushed it open leaving me exposed to all of his handsome glory. He found the zipper and slid it up slowly, making sure the fabric didn’t get caught in it. “Do you want me to tie the sash thing too?” I nodded meekly and felt his hands smooth over the fabric under my chest and slide back to gather the ends to tie into a bow. It was such a simple thing to do but it had my body turning warmer by the second. I caught him looking at me in the reflection of the mirror above the sink once he was done. He looked shocked, licking his lips as if he was trying to say something but not being able to get anything out. I turned my head back towards him.

“Do I…do I look okay?”

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, you look alright.”

“Oh…” I said softly. Just alright.

“I mean like you look good, you know? Um…yeah, real good.”

I avoided looking at him as I slipped out the bathroom. I didn’t have that much time left before we had to head over and I still had to wiggle my feet into heels that I was sure would break my ankles as soon as I got into them. I struggled to get them strapped around my ankles, huffing when my boobs got in my way as I doubled over to reach my feet. I sat down at the small desk and tried to angle myself another way but it was still just as frustrating. “Need help with that too?” He asked.

I nodded, defeated and he came in front of me, landing on one knee. He slid my dress up to my thigh and took my foot in his hands, delicately securing the straps around my ankle. I couldn’t help but feel like Cinderella in that moment, even if my so called prince charming was a fuck boy. “Thanks.” I said softly as I stood up. He rose to his feet too and it was weird to almost be face to face with him, instead of staring at his chest.

“Oh, i don’t like this.” He joked. “I’d like you to stay mini sized.”

“Yeah well they won’t be on for long. They’re already killing me. I just need to get through the walk and first dance and then i’m tossing them.” I nibbled my lip for a moment before pressing them to his, which seemed to catch him a little off guard. “Hmm, it’s nice to not have to stand on my tiptoes to kiss you.”

“Hm, let’s hope that walk goes fast. I don’t like those heels either.” He smiled at me and offered his arm. “Ready now?”

I grabbed my clutch from atop the desk and nodded. “You have the room key right?”

“Yep.” We headed out of the room and towards the parking lot to my car. “You know, the pastel pink is really nice with your skin tone.”

I straightened up at his compliment. “You really think so?”

He opened the door to my car and lead me to sit down. “I know so.”

I laughed nervously. “A-are you practicing your boyfriend skills?” I tried to make it sound like a joke but he just shrugged and went over to the passenger side to get in. I swallowed hard and clicked my seat belt into place before revving up the engine. “Oh, remember how I said if I told you my government name I’d have to kill you?”

“Yeah?”

“Well you’re going to hear it tonight and if you so much as ever repeat it you won’t have a dick, got it?”

“Why not? It can’t be that bad!”

“Trust me, it definitely is.”

–

“ERIANNALISSE!”

I cringed. I cringed hard and wanted to shrink away into a minuscule molecule and be non existent. I didn’t even want to look at Johnny to see what he was going to say. I could practically hear him trying to cover up his snickers. I sighed and put on a fake smile as my aunt came to me with arms wide open to capture me in a death grip hug that could snap my spine in half. “Ay, mija! Look at you, you look so pretty!” She paused. “Have you gained weight?”

“Nice to see you too, Titi.” I grit my teeth and tried to ignore her shade. Her eyes went over to Johnny, looking him up and down and squinting her eyes a bit.

“Eriannalisse, quien es este?” She asked who Johnny was.

I grabbed onto his arm, digging my nails into his bicep. “This is my….boyfriend, Johnny.”

He waved and grimaced through my death grip. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Hm…” Was all my aunt said. “Titi Carmen has been wanting to see you. I’m sure she’d want to meet…Johnny.”

“Yeah, i’ll go see her in a bit! I have to find mami and Dani first.”

My aunt kissed both of my cheeks and left to go join the gossiping group of women in my family who all suddenly turned their gazes from their champagne flutes to Johnny and I. I turned my back towards them and looked up at Johnny. “I will literally pay you .25 cents to kill me. Just make it quick.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eriannalisse. What’s the worst that could happen?”  He smirked and laughed a bit which made me frown.

“Johnny, I told you don’t call me that. I’m serious. They can call me that because they don’t recognize who I am as a person. You can’t.”

“O-oh…is it a gay thing? Like one of your gay things that you won’t explain to me?”

I sighed and looked down at my feet. “Yeah, sort of. I’ll explain it to you eventually. Just not now ok?”

He took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Ok, i’m sorry. I won’t say it again.” He leaned down just a bit and gave me a soft (rated PG) kiss which made me smile.

“It’s just hard being around them…I wish it would be a fun time but-” I suddenly heard vicious clacking before arms were thrown around my shoulders.

“ERIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!” I recognized the overly excited voice and looked up at my modelesque baby sister. “I missed you so much!”

I kissed her cheek and turned around to properly hug her. “Hey, happy birthday.”

“You’re like almost my height!” She said, looking down at my heels. Dani was so graciously blessed with being 5’8”, skinny, with straighter hair and caramel skin as opposed to my milk chocolate. Her eyes were the perfect shade of hazel with flecks of green that sparkled perfectly. She was only my half sister as our fathers were different but we were raised both the same, save for the fact that she was a model and I was the throw away. “You look so pretty. I’m glad you’re not in black- Yooooooooooo, who is THIS!?” Her attention turned to Johnny, her eyes wide and mouth practically watering.

“Uh…hey.” he said sheepishly.

“This is my boyfriend, Johnny.”

Dani laughed and slapped my shoulder. “No, really!? Who is he?”

I pouted. “I’m serious. He’s my boyfriend.”

Dani looked at me then stepped up to Johnny. “What’s her favorite color?”

“Pastel pink.” He answered.

“Favorite food?”

“Pizza…and pasta.”

“What instruments can she play?”

“Guitar, and she sings.”

“What’s her favorite anime?”

“Sailor Moon.”

Dani squinted her eyes. “When’s her birthday?”

Fuck, he didn’t know that. I grabbed Dani’s arm, trying to get her attention from ruining our facade. “Dani, can you not grill him please? It’s bad enough Titi Lisa and probably Titi Carmen are talking shit about us already. Also, I haven’t told mom yet.”

“You haven’t told mom yet?! How long have you been dating?”

“It’ll be four months in December.” Johnny added. “We started dating right when the semester started. We have a class together and I thought she was cute so,” He shrugged. “Here we are.”

“Yeah but you’re hot. Eri has never dated anyone this hot before.”

“Well gee, thanks Dani! And i’ve dated cute people before!”

“Yeah cute, not hot. He’s hot. If you’re not going to keep him, I’ll take him.”

“You’re fifteen!” Johnny and I said at the same time.

Dani shrugged. “I mean…”

I held my hand up. “Don’t even go there. He’s like-” How old was Johnny anyway? “Way older than you. Stop being an instagram thot for once. Where’s mami? I need to know when she wants us to line up and start this.”

“I think at 8 exactly, but she’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off. I’ve just been chilling with my friends for now. This dress weighs like 50 pounds and I’m sweating like a whore in church.” Dani fanned at herself and hiked up the bodice of her dress. I looked at her poofy dress that was a beautiful array of soft Monet colors but way too 90’s barbie cake topper. It wouldn’t have been my first choice but I was sure mami wanted it to look as traditional as possible. “Oh, by the wayyyy, I know you have a boyfriend now but mami invited Josue.”

I straightened up completely when I heard that name. Josue was my childhood crush. He was older than me and I never stood a chance with him but we always played together. Once we kissed in my backyard and told me that he wanted to play house with me and be the daddy. I had been in love with him up until I was 12 when he moved away to a different state. “Jo-Josue? He’s coming? Here? Tonight?” I squeaked.

“Who’s Josue?” Johnny interjected.

“Josue is Eri’s big ol’ crush from when she was younger. All they did was play house together and be mommy and daddy and make kissy faces at each other. Then they kissed for real and he touched her chichi’s! But they never lived happily ever after because he moved away.”

“Dani, por favor, why do you have to be like this? I’m just happy to know he’s going to be here. I haven’t even seen him in like…almost 7 years. Besides I’m with Johnny now so it doesn’t matter.” I forced his arm around my waist and he clutched onto it tightly.

“Uh-huh whatever. Have you not followed him on Insta? There’s a lot of nice gym pictures. He hit a growth spurt. He’s like 6”3’ now.”

I swallowed hard. “Really? O-oh wow…”

“Sounds like a tool.” Johnny scoffed. “Ya’ll got beer at this place?”

Dani nodded towards the bar at the back of the venue. “Just fight my uncles off before they drink them all.”

“Cool.” He dipped out completely, leaving me and my sister to be swept away by our mother who had just stepped in like she was out of breath. She hustled to get us all lined up and ready like a bridal party ready to walk down the aisle. I sighed as I stayed in place, shuffling a bit as my feet already started to hurt. My mind started wandering to my childhood crush. Memories started bubbling to the surface; he had been my first kiss, the first to get to second base, and the first person I had wanted to be my boyfriend. He was three years older than me and I didn’t stand a chance with him. But his name was written all over my notebooks until I got my first girlfriend.

I couldn’t help but peek around a bit, wondering if he was already in the venue. I didn’t have much time to investigate as our entrance music started playing and pair by pair we walked into the main dance floor. I was walking with one of my younger cousin’s who I rarely spoke with so I barely paid attention. He had to yank me back a bit when I walked too fast and it made me want to punch him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Johnny leaning against the back wall nursing a beer and watching me intensely. I smiled in his direction, letting him know I was still trying to be civil but he just took another sip and shoved his hand into his pocket. I wondered if he was ignoring me on purpose or if he genuinely didn’t see me. I chewed on my bottom lip almost getting swept up in my thoughts, that was until I saw Dani walking into the room.

Even though I had seen her just minutes ago now that all eyes were on her she looked sparkling and glowing. I’d never seen her look so beautiful before and it brought tears to my eyes that I tried wiping away as soon as they surfaced. I was a proud sibling then. She meant so much to me that I hoped that this day always reminded her of the happiest times she had in her life. We had our ups and downs but for the most part I was always there for her as much as she was there for me. She embarrassed me and I made sure I had to keep her in place before she got too out of hand. Even though I was far away from home now, I knew we would always remain close.

The floor was hers now and we dispersed to let her have the spotlight. I retreated to one of the circular tables while her and our mom shared a dance. It was normally meant for a daughter and her father but since neither of us had them in our lives our mother was the one who deserved to have that dance. I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Johnny sitting behind me at the table. “Want some?” He said, offering the beer which i denied.

“I hate that kind. I’ll leave you too it.”

“She looks nice.”

“She’s a little shit but I love her.”

“I could say the same about you.”

I whipped my head around to stare at him wide eyed. “W-what?”

“I meant like you’re chill! Like i like you. Not like like you but like we’re cool. Uh…you know.” I stammered.

“Right…yeah, um…ok.”

“You wanna dance?!” He said, changing the subject quickly. Dani and my mother had finished their sentimental dance and the dj had switched to some reggaeton/trap mix Dani most likely requested.

“Uh, you mean make a fool out of ourselves?”

He shrugged and chugged down the rest of the beer in a few gulps. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad. My cousins were already grinding with whoever they invited or dancing in groups and laughing. We could probably blend in without being too weird. I kicked off my heels and stood up, extending my hand for him to take. I should’ve had a drink before I even agreed to this. My stomach was already in knots and my anxiety was making me feel like I was going to look stupid but he took my hand and we found a spot in a little corner of the dance floor. I stood in front of him waiting for him to make a move but he just stood there with his hands in his pockets. Why the hell did he keep doing that? Was it a nervous habit?

“So…” he said.

“Are you gonna like…move?”

“I’ve never danced to this sort of music. What do I do?”

“Literally it’s the same as rap music in english. You just sorta…” I gestured towards my family. “Grind on each other and act a fool.”

“So you turn around and just like put your ass against me?”

“Oh my God, have you never done that before?”

“Listen I was a dork and went to high school with a bunch of white kids and we like listened to Ke$ha and Britney Spears. What do you want from me?” He laughed.

“That’s unfortunate.” I joked. I turned around so my back was against his chest and I set his hands on my hips. “I’m not the best but I figure I can put my ass to use.” I worked myself back against him, swaying to the music a bit in hopes of getting him to respond.

Instead he laughed nervously and held my waist tighter. “How do people not get boners doing this?”

“I mean that’s what the song 'Too Close’ is about. Don’t tell me this is turning you on already.” I teased.

He lowered himself to face level and turned my head towards his to kiss me. I held it for a bit, enjoying the way the warmth of his tongue flowed over mine until I realized if my mom caught me doing this my ass would be grass. I pushed him back gently. “Johnny! I can’t do that. Behave!”

“C'mon, I at least need to have a little bit of fun while I’m here. And then when we get back to the motel we can-”

I felt a tap on my shoulder then. Johnny and I both looked up to see a tall, absolutely golden, green eyed adonis that looked like he could pick me up and toss me around in an instant. If I could have heart eyes I definitely would. I let go of Johnny instantly, almost pushing him away as my heart started to skip beats.

“Eri!” I knew it was him instantly even if puberty hit him like a freight train and gave him a deep bass-y voice that made my hair stand on end. He opened his arms to scoop me up and crush me to his barrel chest which smelled of high priced cologne. My feet dangled just a bit when he lifted me. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Oh my god, Josue…Jesus, you’re huge.” God I hoped he was huge everywhere.

He laughed and I tried not to show how much it affected me. “Oh yeah, I’m really into that health and fitness thing. You really uh…wow. Definitely not a teeny bopper anymore.” He set me back down and adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“Yep! Got bigger boobs now, haha!” Why did I say that? WHY???

He licked his lips a smiled a bit. “I can definitely see that.”

Johnny cleared his throat deeply. Josue turned his attention to the man behind me. “Oh hey, I’m Josue. Who are you?”

“I’m her boy-”

“This is just Johnny!” I interjected with a nervous laugh. “Just Johnny! Want to go get something to drink? We can catch up!”

Josue flashed his incredibly perfect teeth. “Yeah I’d love that.” He set his giant hand against the small of my back ushering me away from Johnny.

“Eri!” Johnny said sternly.

“I’ll just be quick!” I mouthed to him, letting myself get whisked away. He didn’t seem too happy about that but I could let him sulk for a bit. I was too preoccupied at the moment anyway.

–

Johnny’s POV

That was fucked up. Way more than fucked up and I was pissed off beyond belief. She was the one who begged me to come with her so she would survive her family. Now she was head over heels for some dude she had a crush on years ago who looked like the biggest douchebag to ever exist. He was taller than me and more built, had perfect teeth and no lisp. I wanted to punch him dead in the jaw.

I didn’t know what to do now. If I went after her it might cause a scene which I didn’t completely want. I still knew that this party was important to her sister and unlike her I wasn’t being an asshole for once. I could get another drink and maybe get away with being a little tipsy but her loud uncles were hogging up the space and the bartender’s attention. I grumbled as I sat back down at the table. my arms crossed as I contemplated leaving her and going back to the motel by myself.

"What are you pouting for?!” Dani said as she plopped down next to me, her poofy dress seeming to expand.

“Nothing.”

“Where’s Eri?”

“With precious Josue.” I said bitterly.

“Ah, so he finally found her. I knew he would.” She drummed her nails on the table thinking over her next statement. “You’re not dating my sister are you?”

“It’s complicated…”

“You’re fuck buddies?”

“Yes.”

“I figured as much. She can’t never lie right when it comes to me. So, you’re in love with her then?”

I snapped my head towards her. “Excuse me?”

“You’re in love with her right? I mean that’s the only reason you would be sulking over her because Eri went off with her new papi.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not sulking.” She was definitely Eri’s sister with how she blurted out things without consequence.

“Look, if you want to win her over you need to definitely do something that will make her remember you. Not that I want to hear about my sister’s sex life or even think about her getting p or v action, but if you got something she might like, go for it. And do it before she ends up going to Josue’s hotel.” She craned her neck to see where Eri and that asshole had gone off too. “Looks like he may have already given her his number.”

I looked in the same direction, my anger only getting stronger. They were huddled over their phones, laughing, with Eri casually (but noticeably) keeping her hands on him. I didn’t want to “win her over”. I wanted to stake my claim and tell him to fuck right off. The grip on my biceps got tighter the more I stared at them. “Ay, you got a younger brother?”

I turned my attention back to Dani, a bit grateful that she was distracting me enough to not go apeshit. “What? No? I’m an only child.”

“Wack. But like if you’re not gonna date Eri then likeeee…”

“You’re fifteen! I’m not going to jail nor am I interested.”

“Ok, ok…but like do you have any younger friends? What flavor Asian are you? Chinese? Or like them ones that dance on tv? The um…the Korean ones!”

“Oh my God.” I ran a hand over my face. “Yes I’m Korean. And no I don’t have any friends your age. My only young friend in Toronto is 18, which is still illegal.”

“Dammit. You know Eri be listening to that stuff right?”

I pulled out my phone, wanting her to take a hint that she was now annoying me without being too rude. “Doesn’t surprise me when she fucks half of Asia.”

“All her hookups are with Asian guys?”

“As far as I’m aware. But who fuckin’ knows.”

“Oooohhh I gotta mess with her about that. Guess she trying to get that carribean dick now.” She cackled and slapped my back hard as she got up. “Call me, ok?!” She said as she finally left me to join the gaggle of teenage girls that were her friends.

I rubbed my temples and took a few deeps breaths. I needed a smoke, badly. I looked to see if Eri was still stuck to Josue’s side but they were nowhere to be found. I looked around the dance floor trying to see if they might have gone there. Sure enough she was grinding on him now, definitely not as awkward as she had been with me. She was practically bent over and ready to get fucked by him. Fuck it. I stood up and weaved through everyone dancing to make my way over to her. I stood in front of her, watching as she came up from shaking her ass.

“Can we help you?” Josue yelled over the music to me. I rolled my eyes at him and took Eri’s chin in my hand giving her a deep kiss. She stumbled back a bit and gripped onto my vest. When i pulled away i licked my lips, tasting the slight flavor of her lipstick.

“Johnny!” She exclaimed.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, in his macho voice, trying to one up me.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” I grabbed onto Eri’s waist and kept her close to me. “She’s MY girlfriend. You had your fun catching up right?”

“Eri, you didn’t tell me-”

She looked panicked as she glanced between us. “No, wait- It’s just-”

“Come with me.” I growled in her ear. “Now.”

“Johnny , I swear to g-” I kept my arm around her waist and lead her towards the front door of the venue. When we were in the clear she whipped around to face me. “What the actual fuck?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing! You’re really gonna ditch me to throw yourself on him? After you begged me to come here?!”

“I wasn’t throwing myself on him! We haven’t seen each other in 7 years! So excuse me if I wanted to talk with him.”

“Hard to talk to him with his dick practically in your mouth! What is wrong with you?!”

“Why are you being such a jerk again! You always do this!” She yelled.

“You’re the one being the jerk this time! I’m fuckin’ pissed. When are we leaving?”

“Leaving?! I have to stay here for at least a few hours! Clearly you don’t know how these go.”

“No, Eri, i fuckin’ don’t. But I do know that you going off with someone else while I’m supposed to be your boyfriend blows our entire cover. So either you fucking act right or I can leave right now. You sister already knows were lying.”

“Fuck!” She stomped her foot and sighed. “I knew she would figure it out. She better not tell anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure she won’t have to with you being stupid. Get me my cigs from your purse wallet thingy.”

“Get you-? Get it yourself! I’m freezing and I’m going back inside. And maybe i’ll still be talking with Josue!”

I grabbed her arm and held onto it. “Eri, do you want to go there? Really want to go there?” My eyes caught hers and i could see how hard she swallowed. Her chest was heaving chest a bit and trembling with the cold.

“What are you going to do?” She sniffled.

“Do you want to find out?”

“M-maybe.”

I let her go then opened the door, guiding her back inside. “Then keep it up. I dare you.”

She stayed quiet then but shuffled ahead of me quickly. I realized I had made her walk outside without her shoes on or our coats but it was whatever at this point. I needed her to know that I wasn’t playing games any more. She was mine.

–*

Eri’s POV

I could barely keep up with Johnny’s long strides from the parking lot to the door of our motel room. He continued his little tyrade of sticking by me and keeping me from Josue, never letting go of my hand, or my waist, even when he went through the ringer of meeting more members of my family. Him being pissed off had me pissed off and it didn’t help when my family told me how fat I looked, or asked when Johnny and I were getting married, or why I had spent so much time in college, or even that what I was studying wasn’t going to get me a real job. It made the entire rest of the night absolutely fucking miserable. Not to mention when I told my mother I was going to spend the night in the motel with Johnny instead of driving home at midnight she blew up on me, saying that it wasn’t right and insisting that I stay at the house. I refused to and I had no idea why she still thought I was some sort of Virgin de Guadalupe or some shit. It was another fight to end this magical night. I gave up and just wanted to take a hot shower, put on my fuzzy pajamas on and possibly smoother Johnny with a pillow as he slept.

Johnny barged into our room, not even bothering to hold the door open for me. I didn’t even want to deal with him since I was still mad at my mother for treating me like a child. I went straight to prepping for my shower, tossing my clutch and fake eyelashes on the desk and my phone on the bed so i could plug it in to charge. I unzipped the dress as best as I could without his assistance and shimmied out of it, leaving it a puddle in front of the bed. I didn’t care anymore. Not one bit. After I showered I pulled the too short towel around me and went back into the shared space. Johnny was sitting in the chair, feet propped up on the desk and tie loosened. He was glaring at me and I swallowed hard at the intensity. He dropped his legs and leaned forward in the seat, undoing the first few buttons on his dress shirt.

I tried to ignore the effect he had on me and instead went to my duffel bag to try and find my pajamas. He stopped me as I passed by him, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in front of him. “Ow! What’s your problem now?!” I asked, still trying to clutch onto my towel so it wouldn’t fall.

“This night was complete bullshit. I’m your boyfriend and all you could do was throw yourself onto that guy and embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“I wasn’t throwing myself on him!” I argued again. I hated that he was saying that. So what if I found Josue incredibly attractive and felt like a preteen again as soon as I saw him? That was my business and not Johnny’s.

“You grinded on him, got his number, and had your arms around him for minutes on end. You made me look stupid. I’m your boyfriend, Eri.”

“Fake boyfriend.” I corrected.

“That’s what I meant.”

“Why should you be embarrassed then?!”

“Because your uncles didn’t think that I was man enough to keep you with me. And your aunts talked shit about me all night.” He pressed himself up against me making the edge of the desk dig into my lower back. “You said you were going to be civil and you were far from civil.” He set his hands on either side of my hips, keeping me in place.

“A-ah, Johnny…back u-up.” I whimpered and avoided looking at him but he grabbed my face roughly.

“You wanna try that shit again, Eri? Hmm?”

I could feel his fingers digging harshly into my jaw. “I didn’t do anything wrong! You’re just a jealous prick that-”

He pulled away from me and shoved me back onto the bed, instantly hovering over me. My towel fell open just like my legs and he pinned both my wrists above my head in one of his large hands. I swallowed hard and felt my heartbeat increase. I had no idea what had gotten into him and i was partially thinking about what Doyoung had said about Johnny. Was he actually trying to manipulate me and make me feel bad for being with Josue? I bit my lip as I thought, wondering what his next move would be. “Get off me.” I tried to sound strong but it was a pathetic attempt.

“Open.” He demanded.

“W-what?” What the hell did he want? I figured it out quickly as three of his fingers dove down my throat almost making me gag. I squirmed against him, trying to edge my head away but he was adding more of his weight onto me as his fingers plowed into my mouth. His knee was pressed right into my center, the residual wetness from the shower dampening the fabric. I tried swallowing around the invasion when his knee started to rock into me.

“Suck harder, Eri.”

I didn’t dare look at him. His voice was doing something to me as always. Stirring the pot of emotions and hormones that made me fall into a space of complete submission. This wasn’t like his usual ways though throughout or hookups I could see the dominance poking through. Now he was another person that I was desperate to get to know. I tried my best to suck deeper at his fingers, sliding my tongue around them and providing them all the wetness they hopefully needed. I knew exactly where they were going and i was going to be stretched far beyond my imagination. With his thrust his rings kissed my lips, shocking me with a bit of cold and excitement. I edged my tongue around the silver as best I could given the invasion that took up most of my mouth. Slowly the metal warmed up and I pressed my thighs against his, feeling a tingling throughout my center.

He pulled his hand away sharply, making me cough as his glistening fingers dove lower. Two were rushed inside me making my knees jerk up towards my chest and toes curl. I was already crying out his name, wanting him to slow down just enough for me to catch my breath and adjust but he ignored me. Instead he was working in the third finger, forcing my walls to flex and waver around him. He was already digging my arousal out of me. I could hear it so blatantly echoing in our room. I buried my face in my arm beside my head, still being unable to free my hands though I struggled as much as I could. He seemed to like that struggle as his fingers curled deep inside me, knuckles pressing against my entrance, the rings threatening to push past and fill me up too.

“Fuck, Johnny!!!” I cried out as my thighs almost snapped shut. It was starting to be too much and I could feel myself already crawling towards an orgasm.

“Quiet.” Was all he said as he pulled his fingers out to give me some relief from the pressure. I was throbbing and gaping around the stretch he left behind, my whole lower half practically trembling. He finally let me go and sat down on the bed. He splayed his legs open, unzipping his dress pants and beckoning me over to him. “Get over here.”

I shook my head, raising myself to my knees and shrinking myself away. I wasn’t scared of him, far from it. I was definitely turned on more than anything but I wanted to push him further than he had ever been capable of. He wanted to be a jealous boyfriend that pushed my buttons well I was going to push right back. “You’re being a jerk. I’m not giving you the satisfaction, especially after you decided to barge in there with your giant ass fingers!”

He lurched forward and grabbed onto my arm before I could wiggle away. He yanked me to his chest then gripped the back of my neck hard. Our eyes met before he pulled me close to his lips. “I like it better when you don’t talk.”

I squinted at him, almost in shock that he used my own line against me. “You fucker.”

He pressed me down towards his lap though I tried to resist as much as I could. It was no use as he was stronger than me and I was face to face with his growing length trapped within his briefs. His hand was now digging into my hair keeping me firmly in place. I landed a bite to his hipbone making sure he knew I wasn’t too pleased in the way he was handling me. He hissed out my name and arched his hips, his nails digging into my scalp. I wrapped my hand around his, trying to pry his iron grip away while adding kitten licks to the outline of his cock. That seemed to soothe him a little as I heard him exhale through his nose as he relaxed back against the wall. His nails quit marking my skin and he opted to push my hair away from my face gently instead of trying to rip it out.

I slid his briefs back and guided him towards my mouth pressing kisses down the shaft before licking back up to the tip. Once I got to the tip, I took him in, swallowing his head completely. I shifted my hips to raise my ass higher for him to look at knowing it would tease him. I looked up at him and saw the full pleasure that was written across his face. His eyes had closed, his lips pressed together, and his fingers trailing down to open more buttons on his dress shirt. I popped off him and placed kisses up his stomach with each new area that became exposed. “I can tease that little spot that you like.” I smirked and added a slow stroke to his cock.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” He shoved me down onto my back and straddled my shoulders, his cock now hovering above my face. I couldn’t move with his weight on me and I was trapped between his thick thighs. He tapped my lips with his cock which I absolutely hated. I slapped at his stomach but he remained stoic. He only moved to shove himself down my throat, propping one hand against the wall while the other kept my head in place. He worked quickly to rock his hips against my face making me claw at him. I wasn’t used to this sort of thing, even with all of my experience, and it hurt like all hell. I was trying my damnedest not to gag around him but it was impossible given the fact that he was ramming into my throat. My eyes watered and tears fell against my will. My nails dug into his hips as I silently begged for him to slow down.

He was moaning my name, more than he ever had before, completely lost in the pleasure of torturing my throat. He looked fucking amazing, I had to give him that much, even if I hated what he was doing to me. I loved the way his hair was coming undone from the gel he used, the way his dress shirt lay open and his tie dangled above me like an invitation. The way his thighs stretched out his dress pants was a dream and I wanted to touch every part of him. I reached for the thinner end of his tie, pulling roughly so it zipped up to his throat. He lurched back at the sudden pressure and looked down at me. He must have seen my fucked up state because he pulled out, leaving me grossed out by the messy spit that connected us still.

"Fu-fucker. That hurt” I croaked.

He pulled off me completely before lifting me up to sit in his lap. He wiped away my tears and I buried my face in his neck, clutching onto his vest. He kissed at my cheek, pulling me away from hiding. “You ok?”

I sniffled and nodded. He worked his hands over my sides and hips trying to soothe me more. Of course he couldn’t help himself and gripped my ass tight which made me laugh just a bit. “I’ve never done that before…”

“Really?” He asked, surprised.

“Ok, I’m a hoe but like there are some things I haven’t done before. You have to remember you dick is huge, dude. I’m small.”

He gave me soft tender kisses and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know, princess. I’m sorry. But don’t think you’re getting away with this shit either.”

I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. “I stand by the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Hmm.” Was all he said before he tossed me face down onto the bed. I looked back at him as he discarded the rest of his clothes, dangerously holding his tie in his hand. He mounted me, as I was completely his to take and wrapped the loop of the tie around my wrists, pulling tight. “You like this don’t you?” It was supposed to be a command but I could tell it was mostly an uneasy question and he needed permission to continue.

I nodded and smiled at him. “I like it a lot, daddy.” I gave him a quick kiss sealing my consent. I threw out my rule of not using our titles with one another since he couldn’t actually communicate but in this moment I need him to know that I was his to command and I was giving him as much power as I would allow.

He wrapped the length tie around his fist, keeping a firm hold on it. His other hand jerked my hips up while his knee nudged my legs apart as far as they could go. My ass was raised, arms outstretched, and my body was trembling with excitement. His first thrust was swift and hard. I could hear his hips snap against me and I was barely able to hold myself up in that moment. My arms shook weakly and I dug my fingers into the sheets as my mouth curved into a silent moan. He was almost too deep for me to handle and every slam into me seemed harsher than the last. I couldn’t really keep up. It was overpowering and I wanted to scream my pleasure into the tiny room though I could barely even mumble a word.

My fingers curled as I tried to send tension to my arms instead of my weakening legs. It was useless though and I could feel my stomach tightening. He landed a slap to my ass just as I tried to pull away from him and regroup. I hissed and bowed my head, breathing out his title again. Suddenly, my phone buzzed by my head, the screen lighting up and distracting me. I turned to see who it was and winced. This was the worst time for him to call.

Johnny pressed my head into the mattress and sped up his brutal thrusts. “Why don’t you answer it, Eri? Let him hear how good you’re getting fucked. Tell him who’s really your boyfriend.”

I opened my mouth to say anything but all that came out we’re soft croaks. I panicked when I saw him reach for my phone and I struggled to move to try and block him. “D-dont, please don’t.” I was finally able to say. He let go of his grip on the tie wrapped around my wrists and instead set it around my neck. The call disappeared much to my relief.

“What a shame Eri. Let’s see if he calls back or if he took the fucking hint.” I swallowed hard and nodded, biting into my lip to try and still my moans. He quickly latched his teeth into my neck, sucking deeply like he always did when he wanted to mark me. “Stay on all fours, got it?”

I propped myself back to my elbows as he forced my thighs to rest on the outside of his. I could hear his moan of satisfaction at the sight of me splayed open with his cock stuffed inside me. I wanted to shy away and hide but he wouldn’t let me of course. He resumed his grip on the tie, pulling it taught around my neck and constricting my air flow. My eyelids fluttered and i wondered if this was heaven. Jesus, it felt so amazing even if every muscle in my body felt like it was burning and my insides were a scrambled mess. While he made my back dip by pulling my neck by the tie I felt his other hand slid down from my hips to my wetness, flowing over my clit. I was grateful for the extra attention and wiggled my hips to rock back against him and dive further into his fingers.

His finger started to trail from my clit to dance around my gaping entrance and just like before he pressed the long digit in little by little until it was almost as deep as his cock. I pleaded for him to stop, it was too much, too overwhelming for my overly sensitive walls but he kept working away at my torturous pleasure. That, coupled with his thickness, made the tendons in my legs strain as bliss shot through me. My moans mixed in with my strangled pants as he dared to press a second finger into me.“J-johnny!!” I rasped. “It’s too much!!”

He pressed his body weight harder against me, keeping me pinned so I would have no way from escaping the overstretching. “You’re not going anywhere.” He whispered harshly in my ear, making me shudder. He curled his finger then, the pressure of his knuckles against his cock, and the sliding of his rings against my heated walls made me clench meekly around him. Johnny enjoyed seeing me writhe beneath him, seeing me try and focus on being a good brat when in reality I was starting to unravel into a brainless mess. Nothing had a hold on my attention like the buildup he was creating inside me. I could barely process the words he was saying to me with how fuzzy my senses were. He curled his fingers deeper getting right to the root of my pleasure. The head of his cock was edging as far as it could go within me, his fingers pressed into the perfect spot, and his thumb brought back smalls swipes and circles against my clit. It was a haphazard clusterfuck of intense sensations that all culminated into a harsh orgasm that sent my mind reeling. It felt like my cum rushed out of me, painting my thighs with a deep warmth that was astounding.

I squeezed my eyes shut as my entire frame trembled. My muscles seized, tensed, and finally gave out. I fell forwards, collapsing onto the bed in a breathless heap. My lower half practically felt numb and I tried to concentrate on not passing out. It wasn’t just the physical fatigue, the mental and emotional fatigue of the entire day weighed on me in that moment. My few seconds of recuperation was cut short when Johnny pulled his fingers out of me. I felt another gush then, making me a bit confused as to how wet I really was. It definitely felt different and I could hear Johnny make some remark though his words weren’t registering. He said something else and I nodded weakly, agreeing to whatever he had posed just for me to have the ability to relax soon.

But that was definitely wishful thinking. He yanked me almost to the edge of the bed and continued his brutal fucking. I let him grip onto the back of my thighs as he huffed out growls and moans. He was swelling inside me, making me wince yet encourage him with mumbles that I thought were words. His fingertips dug into me harder and that sweet heat spread throughout my body again. I smiled and relished in the feeling of him pumping into me, slower and slower, until he milked himself completely. I laid there, unmoving and enjoying the way he felt inside me like I always did until I i lost myself in sleep.

–*

Johnny’s POV

I felt her move beneath me and there was a stickiness and sweatiness between us. I groaned as I didn’t really want to move but I needed to break away and get some air. My hand was over hers, my body curled around her, and my cock of course still inside her. It was almost perfect save for the giant wet spot we were forced to lay in because she squirted everywhere. We had both fallen asleep almost immediately after and i just adjusted her in the bed for me to have enough room to spoon her. Now everything made me feel like I needed an hour long shower. I rolled away, letting go of her hand and putting my forearm over my eyes to block out the bright light of the room. How long were we even asleep for?

She mumbled something and groaned, blinking a few times before fully looking at me. “Hey.” She sounded like she had smoked 2 packs of cigarettes a day for the past 40 years and I cringed at my handiwork. She tried clearing her throat but opted that it was too sore and winced in pain.

“Hey…maybe you shouldn’t talk…” She glared at me and I shuffled a bit away so she wouldn’t attack me.

“I feel gross. Why is everything wet? What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? We fucked?”

“No, no, I know that. But I was so tired at the end-” She paused to rub at her throat. “I felt like half asleep. It was good though but I was worn out.” She laughed softly.

“Well, you’re welcome for that but like…do you even remember your orgasm?”

She nodded quickly, her smile beaming. “Oh yeah.”

“You squirted everywhere and basically we’ve been laying in the soaked sheets because we’re dumb as fuck.”

“Wait…squirted? No, i can’t do that. I’ve never done that.”

“What do you mean you cant do that? You literally did. Twice. The first time when you had your big one and then when i pulled my fingers out. It was like…not how they make it out to be in porn. Like not some weird super soaker spray but like-”

She held her hand up to stop me. “Please don’t describe it any further. I just…holy shit.”

I pulled out of her slowly, never getting used to that amazing feeling. It got me every time. It also sent my cum dripping out of her which was almost as good of a sight as her squirting. “Fuck…”

She wiggled a bit, a look of discomfort on her face. “What the hell?”

“We’ll now we got my cum on the sheets…” I said, partially annoyed. We really had to get them off this bed.

“DID YOU CUM IN ME AGAIN?!”

Her yelling caught me off guard. “Yes? I asked you this time and you agreed!”

“When?!”

“What do you mean when!?”

“I’m sorry if I was too fucked out and tired to freakin’ listen to you blab during sex! But you can’t be doing that! It freaks me out!!!”

“Hey, i asked to cash in my favor and you definitely said yes so I did it. It is not my fault.” I sat up slowly and inched my way to roll off the bed. “Come on. We need to get these off and I think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Aren’t you worried at all?” She said softly.

“Me? Not really. I told you it’ll be alright. We’ve got everything covered.” It was a lie but I was blinded by how good it felt sexually and I also didn’t want to make her panic more than she already was. I told myself I’d stop after this one last time and not risk it anymore. She didn’t move and I could tell she was overthinking again. I went over to her and scooped her into my arms, holding her bridal style. “I’ll have you get the shower started while I take care of the bed. She held onto my neck and buried her face in my chest as I walked her into the bathroom, gently setting her down in the tub. “You ok?”

“Y-yeah…” She reached up and pulled me in for a kiss that I held for a long time. It wasn’t deep or passionate but more so intimate and warm. I sighed and cupped her face.

“Go, ok? I’ll be right back.”

I pulled away from her which seemed to be getting harder and harder each time. Even if it was just back into the room it felt like a million miles away. I tore off the soaked sheets, glad that the comforter was still mostly dry, and tossed them in the corner of the room. I said a silent apology to housekeeping and hoped to all hell they wouldn’t look at it directly when they put it in the wash. I padded back to the bathroom and slipped in behind her.

“Turn around.” She said and I gave her a questioning look. She sucked her teeth. “I was just about to get the…stuff out.”

“Eri, i’ve literally seen you every which way. Do you really think I care how you look getting my cum out of you?”

“JUST DO IT.”

I sighed and turned around, picking up the little motel bar of soap and ripping off the plastic. I waited for her to finish, getting impatient about being in the cold spot. “Dude, hurry up.”

“THERE IS A LOT OK? You don’t cum like a normal human being!”

“Apparently neither do you, Splash Mountain.”

‘OH MY GOD. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.”

I snorted and looked back at her. “Can I please get under the water now? I’m freezing.”

She switched spots with me and I finally got under the hot stream, thankful to wash away a whole nights worth of sex. My time under the stream by myself didn’t last long as Eri snuggled up next to me, her hair a soaking mess of waves that framed her face and made her look like a painting of a goddess. “Too cold. I want to be next to you.”

“You big baby.” I joked and ruffled her hair. She pouted and poked at my stomach making me squirm away. Our antics made our shower way more fun than it should’ve been, mimicking the perfect time we had in the tub before I freaked out on her. It was almost like a do over and I was appreciative of that fact. Once we were done and dried we curled up, facing one another, under the comforter. And although we were both fatigued, we stood up for hours talking about shit I never even dreamed about knowing about her. By the time the sun rose I was able to realize that one thing was for sure. I was in love with her.

–

We thought everything would be fine after that, and it was between us, but on Eri’s side things seemed to hit the fan one after the other. Their grandpa, who was back on the island they were from, fell ill. Their mother didn’t let them have a say in anything and whisked them away, making them leave school and work behind. There was a looming threat that they could be fired or even lose their financial aid which worried them just as much as their grandpa’s health. Each night they were gone we would facetime just so I could see them. I missed having them beside me whenever I wanted and it wasn’t even about the sex anymore. I genuinely found that I liked talking to them. There was never any judgement and I started to understand why certain things were important to them. Now I had to be there for them and help them stay strong even though I knew they were crumbling.

I was laying on my side, my phone propped against the wall, as I watched them cry. There wasn’t much I could do, or even say, at this point but i remained on the video. They apologized over and over for crying so much but i reassured them that I didn’t care. They let me know that it was okay when I cried and I wanted them to know the same. “I miss you..” They hiccuped.

I sniffed and cleared my throat, swallowing my own emotions. “I miss you too…you know you have to be there. It’s going to be okay.”

“He’s gonna die Johnny. I know it. I visited him today at the hospital and my mom and my aunts just keep putting this weird bandaid on it. They keep thinking he’s going to bounce back and be able to take care of the house and my grandma and he wont. He literally wont. I don’t know why they won’t just fuckin’ say it.”

“They’re scared, Eri. They’re losing one of their parents. It’s always going to be scary.”

“I know that but I hate being the only fucking rational one here. It’s driving me insane. Just look at him and say he’s going to die! He’s just going to die, Johnny. He’s going to…” They burst into another round of tears and buried their face into a pillow, muffling the heart wrenching sobs. I wish I could be there. I wish I could hold them so fucking tight and never let them go. It hurt me to see them like this.

“Baby, look at me, ok?” They moved their head up and wiped at their eyes. “When you come back here, i’ll be here for you ok? It’s going to be hard but I’ll help you get through this. And so will Quinn and stupid ass Lucas and all your other friends.”

I finally saw them crack a small smile which made me feel a little better. “I know…I-” Suddenly, someone burst into their room. I couldn’t make out who it was exactly as the video started to pixelate. They had a conversation that I couldn’t understand but seemed stressed. They grabbed their phone and finally the video came back into view. “I have to go. I-I’ll talk to you later, ok?!” Before I could even respond the video was cut off and I had my own disturbance burst into my room. I shot up in bed, looking at Jae who seemed to be distressed. Great, was everyone around me having issues at once?

“Dude, what the-” He held his cell phone out in his shaking hand and I could see a call from an unknown number going on. “What?” I asked, still confused.

“Talk. Talk now.”  was all he said.

I took the phone tentatively and held it to my ear. My body went into shock as soon as I heard the voice that had haunted me for weeks on end. The voice that made my skin crawl and make me want to vomit. What she said next drenched my blood run cold.

“Johnny, I’m pregnant.”

[axelsagewrites]

Marauders Preference*Secret Talent

Included: James, Sirius, Remus

Request?: Nope

Warnings?: cuteness

Type: no clue

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

James: Drawing

James was a...beautiful specimen with a very drawable face. In your opinion.

This meant that in one charms class when you were bored, especially since the whole class was being lectured on proper wand etiquette, you wanted to draw. James made a good subject.

Eventually, the bell went and you suppressed a groan. You were halfway through but knew you'd have to finish it later.

When you got home you found yourself procrastinating homework yet again so pulled out your sketchbook. You flipped through and saw the drawing again. Being bored and because of your crush, you decided to finish it.

No one ever saw your drawings. It was something you kept private. So when you couldn't find your sketchbook the next day after lunch you were Very concerned. It wasn't anywhere.

Because you were searching for so long you ended up being 10 minutes late for charms. "Sorry." You panted out after running to class. "I couldn't find my um..book." You quickly be lined for your seat.

It was embarrassing enough being late and the look the teacher gave you but you also had to walk past your crush to your seat. You sat at a table with your friend and James and Sirius were at the table next to you. You felt your skin burn as they looked at you.

Luckily they went back to their shenanigans. At one point a first year came in and said Sirius was to go to see McGonagall. In true fashioned, the class oohed and ahhed at him. The class was noticeably quieter without him.

Your skin was finally back to normal when James James turned to you. "Hey, this fell out your bag earlier." He spoke quietly, to not attract much attention. Upon seeing the panic in your eyes he added "And I never looked in it. Well, only the first page but you know." He stuttered a little towards the end.

"Thanks. Most people would have."

He looked down for a moment. "I figured I should ask first. So can I?"

You hesitated and glanced at your friend. She gave you a glare and a nudge, knowing you would never. but handed it over. She grinned and pretended to go back to work. You, however, had forgotten of your recent drawing.

James' eyes flicked over the work you'd spent most of your free, and not so free, time on, "These are amazing," he said, "I didn't know you could draw," I didn't know you knew who I was, you thought.

As you knawed on your bottom lip Sirius returned to his seat, a slip of paper in hand. "Well, that's my third detention this week. What's that? Since when did you do self-portraits? Hell, when did you start drawing?"

"No, uh it's (Y/N)'s."

Sirius glanced at me, clearly not knowing who I was. He shrugged and went to grab my book. I felt myself start to die and mentally began preparing my funeral.

James leaned away from him, holding the book away. "No! It's uh a bad picture of me. I look like crap." He handed it back to you. You shoved it in your bag, feeling deflated.

After class, he dashed to keep up with you. Your friend gave you a look before speeding away. "Wait up! I'm sorry about that. It was great. I just figured you wouldn't want him seeing and I'm not great on the spot so I said it was crap. It wasn't. it was pretty amazing-"

"Thanks." You cut him off, seeing him begin to stutter and trip over his words. "I believe you,"

James grinned, his awkwardness turning into a cocky smile "So...why'd you draw me?"

Sirius: Cards

It never really came up. You were kinda glad though as you could get a little competitive. Or very. Only Lily had known from when your family had invited her to game night.

Since it was Christmas break the halls of Hogwarts were empty. Lily had brought a pack of cards down to the great hall. The idea of house tables had been ditched so you sat across from lily, shuffling cards.

"Oh, what are we playing?" Sirius asked as he sat next to you, pecking your cheek. Lily rolled her eyes, never approving of your PDA. Plus since you were dating Sirius this invited the rest of the marauders to join.

"I was thinking of Switch?" Lily suggested, pretending not to like sitting next to James. You nodded and started shuffling the cards. You did a few fancy shuffle tricks though to show off to your boyfriend and friends. Lily just rolled her eyes.

You started to deal. "Do you know how to play?" You asked the group.

"Yup. We played it at James' last Christmas. Can't be too hard, right?"

...

Sirius failed. Epically.

Some of the moves he made caused you to physically cringe. "Hey," You started as lily began to shuffle the cards after your win. "Why don't we work as a team?"

"Isn't that unfair to them?" Sirius put his chin on your shoulder, seriously thinking this was like cheating. The marauders chuckled as he had seriously bombed it.

"We defiantly don't mind," James laughed.

Sirius still couldn't quite keep up. Every move it was a 'no that one. Why? Because I said so'.

Sirius gave up after that round. You continued to play everyone else as Sirius watched, confused. You won 6 out of 7 games. Everyone else decided they were done too and decided to go snowball fighting. You told them to go ahead and you'd find them soon.

"When did you learn to play?" Sirius asked as you placed the cards in their pack.

"My family always play on holiday. Plus we started having game nights." You pause for a moment, thinking of the last time. "It's like a bloody war. You should come to the next one?"

Sirius looked a little taken aback. "You want me to meet your family?" You were about to panic when he continued. "I'd love too. But I kinda..."

"Suck? I know. I'll teach you. No offense but that was a bit embarrassing,"

Remus: Baking

Not to brag but you were kind of a badass. It's not that you didn't like people but more that they avoided you since apparently leather jackets, muggle died hair, and muggle music was intimidating

You did have friends though. Sirius had latched on to you so he could learn your muggle ways to disappoint his parents. This lead to you being friends with the marauders. You'd never admit to them you liked Remus especially since you were kind of opposites.

The marauders were meant to be coming over to yours but Sirius had gone MIA, James found out last minute he was going on holiday, and peter was still on holiday. Remus had come over though. It wasn't awkward just not what you expected. Your mum was warm and welcoming to him and ushered him into the kitchen to wait for you. "Would you like a cookie or a bit of cake?"

"Um, a biscuit please." You mother smiled at him sympathetically looking at his scars, before she grabbed him one from the cooling rack. Remus shuffled a bit uncomfortably knowing what she saw and what she was probably thinking. You were coming down the stairs as he took his first bite.

"(Y/N) made them earlier." Your mum told Remus as he had to stop himself moaning from the taste.

"You made these?" He asked as you walked through the door. "Their amazing"

"They're ok." You mumbled as you poured yourself a drink.

Your mum smiled and pinched your check. "Always so humble," you swatted her hand as your checks flared up "Yet so cheeky. Take some cookies upstairs." Your mum added as she walked out of the room.

"If I'd know you baked I would have come over a long time ago," Remus said as he grabbed a chocolate chip cookie.

"You can't tell the guys," I said.

"Worried about your street cred?" he joked, "Fine, deal. But only if you keep making these,"

"Deal,"

[gcdgirl-blog]

hello, guys! i’m sora (but you can also call me s), 22 yrs old, goes by she/her pronouns, and living in the est timezone. some of my interests include doggos, anime, disney movies, and overwatch. and honestly, i can't wait to plot & interact with everyone!

✧･ﾟ(   ares + kim chungha + female   ) 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒂 !!  have you seen (   mia nam  ) around ? (   she  ) has been in kaos for (   two years  ). the (   twenty-five year old   ) is a (   bartender  ) from (   las vegas, usa   ). people say they can be (   fiery   ) but maybe that’s not too bad ‘cause they can also be (   valiant   ). whenever i think of them, i can’t help but think of (   bloody and bruised knuckles, the sound of a motorcycle engine, worn out black leather jackets   ).  ･ﾟ✧

i. about

mia nam’s destiny felt like it was all written for her the moment she was born. for starters, she wasn’t planned. her parents were fooling around in their mid-20s and a baby came into their life when they were too drunk to remember about protection due to the heat of the moment. in the end, they decided to keep her, thinking it would work in the long run. they got married the moment mia’s moment found out she was pregnant. 9 months later, baby mia was born in las vegas, nevada.

both mom and dad ended up depending on their parents for a while because neither of them were well-off and as time ticked by, the two got an everyday job to make a living as much as they can for all three of them. the days felt long and nights became quiet as mom and dad were getting stressed out. soon, their silence became arguments in the master bedroom as they blamed each other for having to spend the rest of their lives this way and it lead to a slap on mom’s face. while mia was in her room, crying that she couldn’t do anything for to stop them from fighting. it soon grew to a norm.

to take the attention off of each other, the young nam eventually took it upon herself to get in between them. when middle school started, she started with coming home late and realized her parents would get worried and think about their daughter instead of each other. it was also a way to grab her parents’ attention.

however, it didn’t stop there. mia was going through a downward spiral during her middle school and high school years. it started with yelling and arguing with other kids, which landed her in detention multiple times and summer classes. the results weren’t exactly what she expected though. her father was furious for her actions and ended up hitting her, causing mia to run away from home for a few days.

years passed, mia graduated middle school and moved onto high school. not much changed, except her parents got a divorce and it was agreed that mia would switch between parents; staying with mom during weekdays and dad during weekends, which she dreaded.

her attitude didn’t get any better, unfortunately. she became a bitch and a bully to others, hung out with a wrong crowd, and

it was college that became a change for her. after discussing with multiple advisers, she was soon convinced that she needed a change in her lifestyle. she was just a young girl who had a deep anger inside of her, but soon she was taking anger management classes and boxing lessons to improve herself and to tone down her irritation. plus, she decided to get a college degree. she wanted to make a name for herself and wanted to believe she could do something better with her life than her parents.

she became more well-behaved and calmed down compared to her past rebellious and aggressive self. unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way for long. the brunette became friends with new people and lead them into her world, which was rare considering she never truly talked to most about her past, secrets, or emotions. before she knew it, the ones she called best friends betrayed her. they ditched her more than once, spread rumors and lies, and the last straw was telling everyone her stories. just when she thought she was having a new family of friends, the image of ever having a loving family was ruined for the girl. it made her realize that hardly anyone was going to be there, so she has to be there for herself instead and take no shit from anyone.

in the end of her college life, she got a bachelor’s degree in art, but felt she isn’t good enough yet. after taking different jobs for a few years, mia finally decided she wanted a new scenery.

that’s when kaos came into her story. she saved up money from her full-time everyday jobs as well as commissions to afford a cheap, one-way ticket before packing her bags and moving in when she was twenty-three. there, she took a job as a bartender and so far, she’s been enjoying the work. on her free time, mia continues to improve her art skills, however.

it’s been two years already and there have been times where mia considered living elsewhere, because of how she wasn’t used to staying in one place for so long, but kaos just felt too nice to pass up. for once, she felt she deserved to be here.

tl;dr she grew up in las vegas, nv, had an abusive dad, and became rebellious, then eventually decided to do better during the end of her high school year and college years. however, as she made new friends that she considered family, they betrayed her in the end. now she’s at kaos and knows there’s hardly anyone she can rely on, but herself.

ii. details

PINTEREST

traits

+

audacious, showing a willingness to take surprisingly bold risks: she’s fearless, always enjoys a challenge, and doesn’t mind trying new things.

faithful, loyal, constant, and steadfast: if mia makes an acquaintance and they prove to be a true friend, then mia’s a friend for life. she may not show it, but she’ll be in a person’s corner no matter what.

valiant, possessing or showing courage or determination: mia isn’t one to back down easily. if she wants something, it’ll take a long while before she calls it quits. she’s also quite brave, such as standing up for what she believes in and facing her fears.

-

fiery, having a passionate, quick-tempered nature: she’s quick to make an arguments with just about anyone and anything. her anger also tends to get the best of her sometimes.

indelicate, having or showing a lack of sensitive understanding or tact: mia has an i don’t care attitude when it comes to most people, so she’ll tell it like it is and not apologize for any rude comments.

promiscuous, having or characterized by many transient sexual relationships: she loves sex and isn’t ashamed to show it.

aesthetic

black bralettes, a tiger growling, dark clothes all over the bedroom floor, hands gripping bedsheets, a messy hole in the wall, a sharp and clean knife, lipstick stain on a white mug after drinking black coffee, a yearbook filled with x’s, ripped up family photos the warmth of having someone by your side at night then feeling the cold loneliness in the morning, a ticking time bomb.

style

90% of the time, she’ll be wearing black, the other 10% is filled with dark red. inside her closet, you’d see lace clothing items, tops that show off cleavage, leather jackets, ripped denim. if i had to pick a character to base her fashion sense off of, i’d say it would be gigi from sex&drugs&rock&roll.

she’s mostly seen with long, black hair down with the length past her shoulders and usually past her breasts too, but sometimes it’ll be in-between her shoulders and breasts.

she’s also usually seen wearing dark, red lipstick and with a cat winged eyeliner.

hobbies

during her free time, she can be seen either riding her motorcycle or sketching. after a long day and when she feels stressed or overly-irritated, she’ll go for a long drive (and passing over the speed limit) during the night. or she’ll be in her bed with a blanket over her as the AC is on high while she sketches on paper or draws on her tablet.

tattoos

she has this one to her right side.

this back tattoo.

then there’s this one on the back of her left arm.

she’s considering getting three more, but only has one idea of getting a kiss mark on her butt cheek.

sexuality

she’s bisexual. she realized this in middle school when she was crushing on a girl and would pull her hair constantly, but she was one of the very few that mia hardly harmed because of her interest in the other.

misc

she’s not fond of smoking because of how terrible the smell reminds her of casinos since her parents would frequent hotels at the strip in las vegas.

she mostly drinks socially or if she’s having a truly horrible day. other than that, she prefers to not drink because she feels she can already have fun without the alcohol and has a slight fear that she’ll be addicted.

[apparitionism]

Helicobacter 16

Every single time: In everything I write that suggests these two would get hitched, the JK-played character does the “marry me” asking. Every. Single. Time. I don’t know why this makes such sense to me... I should probably think about flipping that script at some point, in some future narrative, so watch this space, I guess. (I’m sticking with you for now, Tumblr, despite your repeated attempts to drive me away.) Anyway, previously on Helicobacter (in the fifteen! parts that came before this one, which are all available to you on this very judgy social-media platform), we learned that Myka had made a significant miscalculation, Helena can think surprisingly well on her feet, and raccoons are likely to get chatty about Pop-Tarts. Of course the only sensical thing Myka could do then was propose.

Helicobacter 16

Helena managed a weak laugh. She said, “Do you and I really need to enter into yet another faux engagement?”

“No,” said Myka.

“Then—” Wait.

Myka nodded. “Now you’re getting it. And speaking of getting it: who’s got it?” She swung her free hand around, in a gesture that seemed to encompass everyone in the room.

“It? What is it? Who has what?” Helena asked.

“The ring. I know it’s in this room.”

“What?” Helena felt she was losing her purchase on the idea that words were meant to make sense. “You know a ring is in this room?”

Myka was solemn again: “I do.”

“Did you use that phrase intentionally?” Varsha asked. “If so, it’s quite funny.”

“Not as funny as the story,” Abigail said.

“What story?” Helena demanded. “Why is there always a story?”

Rick answered the latter question: “Because life isn’t a series of random collisions of atoms.” So helpful.

“It might be,” Varsha told him.

“But we couldn’t perceive it that way, even if it were,” Steve told her in turn.

“I’m having trouble perceiving it in any way,” Helena lamented.

Myka, who hadn’t released Helena’s hand, pulled on it, drawing her attention back. “Let me help you perceive it my way. It’s pretty simple: I bought a ring for you ages ago, mostly as a sort of... gesture of hope. To say ‘there’s a future in which this will be possible.’ But then I showed it to Abigail, and she said it was too risky for me to have it in my possession, because I’d run into you at some point and feel like it was burning a hole in my pocket and just drop to the one knee, regardless of where and when.” She raised “didn’t you” eyebrows at Abigail, who nodded. Myka went on, “I said that was ridiculous, but then one day I saw you down a hallway at City Hall, and I realized I was in fact about to sprint in your direction and do exactly what she’d predicted, so I literally reversed course and went right to her and handed it over. And promised I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have it. Because even I need the occasional guardrail.”

Abigail snorted. “Occasional. Right.” To Helena, she said, “We should apply for a federal grant to fund the guardrails-against-Helena project. Anyway, I said I couldn’t hold it all the time, because then she’d know exactly where it was, which was almost as bad, given that I didn’t want to be rudely awakened in the middle of the night some night by some lovelorn lunatic who decided she just had to set phasers to nuptial. So I made her promise also not to ask you if she couldn’t pinpoint its location, and we set up a committee—at first just me and Steve, but after she read Rick in, we decided to draft him, too—to rotate possession. Myka doesn’t know the rotation or the schedule, which makes it hard for her to fight through the bureaucracy to get to it.”

“That’s a clever disincentive,” Jane remarked, causing Helena to note that she had not, in fact, exited the inside-joke snowglobe just yet.

Abigail said, “I modeled it on the demonstration-permit regs. They’re so well thought out.”

“I wrote those,” Jane told her, and when Abigail offered her a disingenuous “you don’t say,” Jane bowed her head. She might have been glowering, laughing, or praying... she offered no clarity with her next words: “My staff: the Machiavelli Players.”

Myka, seeming to resent that the spotlight kept shifting away from her, said, “Anyway, I almost did the asking on Saturday night, because it had to be in that room, too, given the committee. But I figured we were so close to getting the work thing fixed—and you’d probably be more inclined to say yes once we did—that I should wait.”

“I’m the one who’s got it now,” Rick said. “Sort of ironic. And I was supposed to hand it off to Steve today.”

Helena looked to Steve. “Behind my back,” she said, “this entire time?” and Steve had the grace to look at least a bit chagrined.

Myka said, “Not entire. It wasn’t until after I told my mom the truth that I really made up my mind.”

“But then you did?” Helena asked.

“But then I did. I’m serious. You’re looking at me like you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“I’m looking at you like...” Helena tried to find words to say about what she was feeling, words that might possibly be correct. She fought through what she recognized as a Myka-esque pause, search... then surrender. “You’re right, like I don’t believe you. We’ve spent only two nights together!”

“Info that I for one didn’t need,” Rick said. “Or want.”

“This I can vote on,” Varsha agreed.

Steve said, hurriedly, “Passed by acclamation.”

Myka gave that attention-tug to Helena’s hand. “If we were fundamentalists, we’d’ve spent zero nights together.”

“We aren’t fundamentalists,” Helena said. Of that, she was reasonably certain, but what it had to do with anything...

Now Myka blinked at Helena: a slow, soft, indulgent blink. “My point is, depending on the circumstance, two is a lot.”

“World wars, for example,” Abigail offered.

“Isn’t that an argument against their spending more nights together?” Liam asked her.

“Emperors Napoleon?” Abigail tried.

“Nope, there were three of those,” Steve said, “but maybe also part of an argument against? The French probably thought the first one was one too many.”

“Waterloo,” Helena muttered, because she still had no purchase on the situation, but defeat seemed a relevant concept.

“That is a very good song,” Myka told her. “I refer you to the lyrics.”

“Mamma Mia movies!” Liam exclaimed.

“That just makes that ‘argument against’ point stronger,” Steve said, and as Liam protested that he liked them, that there should be lots more, Steve gave him a look that Helena decoded—perhaps based on the personal experience of having sent very similar aspects in Myka’s direction—as “your questionable judgment makes me question my own judgment in finding you so appealing.”

Jeannie said, “Here, I’ll try something in a different genre: one of Myka’s great-great-grandmothers was a mail-order bride. She hadn’t even met her intended before the wedding.”

“I didn’t know that. But they lived happily ever after?” Myka asked, with evident hope.

Jeannie shook her head. “Probably not. It was Colorado in the 1800s.”

Varsha clapped her hands lightly, her face a study in joy. “One or both highly likely to have died of cholera!” Her enthusiasm for that outcome was... unsurprising.

“That pile of ‘against’ points keeps getting bigger, guys,” Myka said, “so maybe leave this to me?”

“No, no, the epidemiological point is that you most likely won’t die of cholera,” Varsha said.

Myka smiled, then squinted. “That’s great, but... how is that an argument in favor of our spending more nights together? And/or living happily ever after?”

Varsha squinted back, saying, “It isn’t. It’s a necessary condition for either or both of those outcomes to occur. You’ll have to make your own argument.”

“I’m trying,” Myka said. “Give me the ring, Rick.”

Rick shook his head. “Can’t.”

“Of course you can. It’s mine. And it’s about to be hers, I hope.”

Abigail said, “We have to vote. The committee. It has to be unanimous. You read the bylaws.”

Myka closed her eyes. She breathed in slowly, then said, “You cannot be serious.”

“Isn’t that usually my line?” Helena asked—joking, but not entirely.

Myka’s grip on her hand tightened again. “I swear to god if you people don’t let me put a ring on it, I will water-gun fake blood on each and every one of you, and that will happen at a time you’ll find extremely inconvenient.”

“I move we hand it over,” Steve said.

“Seconded.” That was from Rick.

“I move we vote immediately on the motion,” Steve continued.

Rick again: “Seconded.”

“Aye,” Steve said.

“Aye,” Rick said.

Abigail said nothing.

“What are you waiting for?” Myka demanded.

“Clean clothes,” Abigail told her. “See, I’ve already been water-gunned. I kind of want to make you sweat.”

“Ill-advised,” Jeannie said.

“Why is everyone stealing my lines?” Helena complained.

Myka darted a glance at Helena, a glance of a quality suggesting that Helena’s repeated noting of line-stealing might have been either immensely alluring or extravagantly irritating—or possibly both—and said to Abigail, “I swear. To god. A ring on this, or.”

Abigail sighed. “Fine. Aye.”

“Now,” Myka told Rick.

Rick reached into his pocket, but in trying to extricate what was presumably the ring, he turned the fabric inside out. A loud clink resounded, as did an “oh jesus” from him and a giggle from Abigail, and then he had dropped to his knees and was scrabbling at the floor, and Helena genuinely expected that in a moment, all of them would be examining the linoleum in great detail, for Myka now wore the expression of someone likely to issue a strongly worded decree about what had better be found right now... but Rick quickly bounced up. “Here,” he said to Myka before he looked directly at her face. “Sorry,” he said, after he did.

She held the ring between the thumb and forefinger of her free hand and shook it at him. “You had a diamond ring loose in your trouser pocket? This diamond ring? You are a ding-dong.” Rick looked for a moment as if he might take the fool’s path and protest... but he kept his mouth closed. Myka said, “Good choice,” and she gave the ring, a simple band upon which sat a smallish yet dazzlingly clear stone, to Helena, placing it in the hand she was not holding. “There. Now do you believe me?” She paused. “And now will you say you’ll marry me?”

Helena looked down at what she held. Could a diamond be content to be affixed to a ring? Happy, even, to be there? Because this one’s shimmering clarity seemed not to bespeak mysterious depths, but rather to nestle it securely into its setting. The diamond knew its mind better than Helena knew her own... she cleared her throat. “I’ve never been proposed to before,” she said.

That made Myka not tighten her hold on Helena’s held hand, but gentle it. “That’s because it was always meant to be me.”

That had to be true. It had felt so right to be engaged to marry Myka, even as fiction... Helena said that aloud.

“Told you,” Myka said, but she was not smug. “See, you knew it even before I did.”

“I didn’t buy a ring and set up a committee.”

“That’s because I’m the planner.”

“What does that make me?” Helena asked, and she did not know what Myka’s answer would be. She didn’t know what she wanted Myka’s answer to be... other than right. But what was right? What was she in this improbable relationship?

“You mean,” Jeannie said, “what does it relegate you to.”

Myka smiled at her mother. Then she smiled at Helena. “Dreamer-in-chief,” she said with certainty. “You know, you should put that on your business card. Steve, don’t you think she’d get more work that way?”

“She’d get different work that way,” Steve said. “But isn’t the goal of all this to make sure she gets... similar work?”

With a small eyeroll, Myka said, “Fine. We’ll relegate it to the vows: ‘Do you promise to faithfully execute the office of dreamer-in-chief? To keep dreaming up the never-fountains?’”

Dreamer-in-chief. Perhaps anything Myka had said would have been the right answer, because perhaps it all was nothing more—or less?—than an inside-joke snowglobe. But why not stay in it? The fountain might not exist, but this could. Surely, after all they had been through, this could. Then there is... Helena cleared her throat again. “As noted,” she said, “I didn’t buy a ring.”

“Cheapskate-in-chief,” Myka said, and that was even more right.

“But will you marry me, too?” Helena asked. It was not what she ever would have planned to say today, but now she had said it. And she did not mean it as any push of problems into the future... no, it was a pull of problems. An invitation to them, in the present and in the future.

“Try and stop me, beautiful cheapskate. Just try.” Myka leaned back against her inadequate pillow, looking for all the world like a spoiled princeling, sure that the world—or at least Helena—was hers for the taking. She was of course right, and Helena leaned in and kissed her, savoring it, savoring all of it, even the obvious absurdity, even the likelihood of additional, or at least eventual, catastrophe... “I haven’t changed,” she still wanted to warn, but she still also remembered Myka’s “maybe you shouldn’t have to.” This is how it feels, Charles might as well have been whispering in her ear, as the right wrecking ball knocks you over.

When the kiss ended, Myka didn’t, to Helena’s surprise, return to smiling. Instead she blinked overwet eyes. The planes of her face were ruddy. “You really do believe it,” she said. Perhaps not so spoiled after all, the princeling...

“I do,” Helena assured her.

Varsha said, “That’s funny too! Even more so, because I don’t think you said it intentionally.”

“I have to confess I find it a little hard to follow what you think is funny,” Rick told her.

Helena echoed, “Hard to follow. I have to confess that I find the turn—turns?—my life has taken a bit hard to follow.”

Myka sighed. “If we’re owning up, then I have to confess that I find myself contemplating more often than is probably healthy how adorable this cheapskate looks in a hardhat.”

“What?” Helena said, startled. “How do you know that?”

“That’s the part that’s a little hard to follow, and I’ll tell you later, but I note that you aren’t disputing your adorableness.”

“I—”

“That better end with ‘love you.’”

“It does,” Helena said. “And you knew that before I did.” She had been holding the ring in the palm of her own free hand, where Myka had placed it. Now, to substantiate her words, she loosed her right hand from Myka’s and used it to place that unassuming band onto the appropriate finger, where it fit as if, yes, it had always been intended to live there. She held her hand up, facing its back, and thus the confident stone, toward Myka. “Well? What do you say to that?”

“Everything,” Myka said, and Helena laughed and kissed her again, because of course she did say everything, anything and everything, all of it exactly what Helena needed—and a reasonable majority of the time wanted—to hear.

When this kiss ended, Helena heard a small sniffle, and she looked up to see Jeannie dabbing at her eyes. “I’m not surprised this got to me,” Jeannie said, “because witnessing my daughter so overcome is, to use an inadequate word, rare... but I didn’t know it would get to anybody else.” She looked at Jane. “I’m glad to know she works for someone with such a heart.”

Helena observed, with astonishment, that Jane was touching her own eyes with her sleeve. Jane said, “I did mention it isn’t made of stone. And with that, I’m leaving, before anyone mistakes me for a sentimental fool.”

“Too late,” Abigail informed her, with a laugh that seemed dangerously near a cackle.

Jane confirmed the danger with a raised eyebrow. “Spread that around, Ms. Machiavel, and I will show you how fast a heart can harden.” She then made an exit of a sort that should have been accompanied by a retinue.

Rick sighed. “I guess that means Myka’s cured, and we better get back to work.”

“Unless someone in this room would like to develop some sort of interesting infection,” Varsha suggested.

“I’d rather my day be boring, thanks,” Rick told her.

Varsha gave his cheek a pat that, if bestowed by anyone else, would have seemed overly aggressive. “Of course you would, wallpaper. See how soothing he is!”

Once Rick and Varsha had gone, Liam said, “I guess they’re right. There’s only so many billable hours I can give up in order to ‘visit a sick friend.’ Or visit a ‘sick’ friend. Or whatever it is we’ve been doing.”

“It’s strange but nice to have seen you in the middle of the day,” Steve said.

“Heart-melter. Maybe I won’t badger you to watch Here We Go Again tonight.”

“Waterloo... knowing my fate is to be with you,” Steve sang softly, and Helena added “Steve singing” to the list of seemingly impossible things that had happened today. He turned to her with a slightly apologetic, self-conscious smile. “If I can’t concentrate this afternoon because that’s running through my head, it’s your fault.”

“Accepted,” Helena said. “I think we can safely assume some similar words will be interfering with my thoughts.”

“Obviously, mine too,” said Myka.

“And mine,” Liam agreed. “Thanks a lot, honey. I’m supposed to be writing a closing argument. What if I accidentally put in ‘I feel like I win when I lose’?”

Steve shrugged. “Depends. How many ABBA fans are on your jury?”

“That isn’t something we commonly get around to in voir dire.”

“Then I think we’ve all learned a lesson or two today, haven’t we? About good questions to ask,” Steve said. He directed a significant look at Helena and Myka, then threw an even more significant one toward Liam. “In particular circumstances.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Liam said as they departed. “I will badger you to watch Here We Go Again. Every night for the next week. Or maybe the next year. Or decades....”

Abigail remarked, “They’re almost as cloying as the two of you, but with less drama. Is that good or bad? Anyway, I’m going to bring this back around to ‘clean clothes,’ and the fact that I’d like some, so I should—”

“They have lovely scrubs here,” Helena told her. “The color of an emergent bruise.”

Myka said, “I’ll admit I got a little overenthusiastic with the ‘blood.’ It’s a lot more fun water-gunning it than actually producing it myself. Although I did end up engaged to the most beautiful cheapskate in the world, both times...”

“It seems entirely unfair to Abigail that you were the only one in possession of a weapon,” Helena said.

Abigail nodded at Helena with enthusiasm. “So true. Unfair to you, too, that first time, even if the weapon was her gut. We’ll have to get back at her somehow—I know, a group paintball tournament! Maybe make it an annual thing. For your anniversary.”

“That is the best idea ever,” Myka said to her. Then she turned to Helena and said, as if referring to the sweetest of intimacies, “Isn’t it.”

“Paintball,” Helena said, and did the tone she took with Myka inevitably sound that same tenderness? “Do you know what Charles says to his wife, Jane, on a regular basis?”

“Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me. Do you want me to guess?”

“Actually... I’d love to hear your guess.”

“He says ‘Jane, isn’t my sister so very lucky to have found Myka, and vice versa.’”

That made Helena laugh. “Although you’ve produced a tolerable version of his voice, I don’t believe he does say that. Not regularly.”

“Well, give it time. What does he really say?”

“He says, ‘What a disaster our first meeting was.’”

“Did she really run into his car? Or was he shining me on?”

“And then he thought to return the favor,” Helena affirmed, “to make sure he had her romantic attention. He didn’t tell you that part?”

“God, no. You Wellses are weird.”

“I talked him out of it!” Helena protested.

Myka, doing princeling-against-the-pillow again, drawled, “That’s your evidence to the contrary.”

Helena said to Jeannie, “Do you know, occasionally your daughter sounds exactly like her father. Who has that irrational fear of raccoons, as I’ve so recently come to understand, so if family weirdness is genuinely on the table—”

“I do know they sound alike,” Jeannie interrupted, “but it’s nice to be reminded of it. Do you sound like your father?”

Helena smiled. “No, but I do sound very like my brother—as Myka has remarked, and which is pertinent, because Charles always follows his initial disaster comment with, ‘What a disaster I would be in the absence of that disaster.’”

“That’s sweet,” said the princeling, “but still weird.”

“My point is that I suspect I’ll be following his lead in these ritual utterances as well.”

“I don’t need clean clothes,” Abigail announced. “I need insulin. Is there a special British kind? Because you never sound like you’re made of sugar, but you are, and that makes it worse. That’s it for me.” She paused at the door, turned around, and pointed at Myka. “Pop-Tarts are one thing, but grapefruit’s another.” Then she pointed at Helena. “And raccoons are one thing, but eleven of you, nobody could take.” She swept out, and Helena suspected she would have wanted her departure accompanied by dramatic exit music.

“Grapefruit,” said Myka. “She’s said that to me before, in relation to you.”

“It has vaguely to do with koans. I’ll tell you the story some other time,” Helena said.

“Why is there always a story?” Myka said, a gentle mock.

“I’m told it has to do with atoms.”

Jeannie said, “Colliding, but not randomly. She was so excited when I finally found that book of yours.”

“I suspect she was primarily pleased to have been right. In her identification.”

“Well, she’s Myka,” Jeannie allowed. “But also... she was overcome. Like today. By you. I’m really not giving away any secret when I tell you this matters to her in an unprecedented way—but even if it were a secret, I’d tell you, because of that unprecedented mattering.”

“I’m in the room, Mom.”

Jeannie ignored Myka. She leveled a not-quite-benign gaze at Helena and said, “Treat her well. You seem like you will—I want to believe that you will—but please.”

Not precisely a talk of shovels, but near enough. “I will work hard at it,” Helena told her. “I’m very good at working hard.”

Myka leaned against Helena again. She said, “Mm. In a selfish, Emperors-Napoleon sense, I’m glad you aren’t overly good at being good.”

Not in front of your mother, Helena thought at Myka. She tried to show, by means of a severe brow-furrow directed at the very contented woman at her side, that she was thinking this instruction, but that made Myka laugh, and that in turn made Helena want to forget about who they were in front of.

“I clearly need to give you two a minute,” Jeannie said, and that was, from Helena’s perspective, an embarrassingly accurate reading of the room’s temperature. “But as I understand it, everybody’s supposed to get back to work. And you might want to remember that the idea behind this whole thing was for everybody to keep having work to get back to...” The door closed behind her.

Guilt: Helena had been so, so uncharitable in her initial assessment of Myka’s Rick-promoting mother, yet Jeannie had, now, provided them with their first instance of clean, unencumbered intimacy. She does want Myka to be happy, Helena now thought. With someone. And she genuinely seems to believe that I am that someone...

That they didn’t lunge for each other seemed, paradoxically, a good sign. A marker of this new reality.

“One minute,” Helena said. “Our first real minute.”

“Speaking of what’s real, tell me, do you really want this?” Myka asked. Helena moved her jaw in disbelief, but Myka went on, “I can take it if you don’t, but only if you tell me right now.”

Helena held her hand up again. “Here is what I’ll tell you right now: I will remove this ring for no reason other than a medical emergency?”

“That could just mean you like rings,” Myka said.

“Have you seen me wear a ring before today?”

“That could just mean you like this ring,” Myka said, but she touched the ring, began playing with Helena’s fingers.

“I have no right answer anymore.”

Myka looked up. “You do if you kiss me.”

So Helena did.

“See?” Myka said, some length of time later. “Now I’m persuaded. Want to persuade me some more? Maybe really, really fast? I think from my side of things, I can promise—”

“No,” Helena interrupted, because if Myka kept talking, the answer was going to be yes, because Helena certainly did want to persuade her some more.

A little pout, a pretty blink. “No?”

“Well, not no,” Helena conceded.

“Not no? Maybe I’m wrong, but that seems like a double negative, which I’m mostly sure works out in the math to be a positive, so—”

Helena had to interrupt again. “I mean, no, but not in perpetuity. No for the present moment.”

“You pick the worst times to be good at being good, but fine. Failing that, I don’t suppose you’d want to just go for the whole cheese plate? Fly to Vegas and get married tonight? Bellagio... fountains.... something like, there is no fountain, then there are lots of fountains, and they dance or light up or do some other—”

Helena kissed her again, and this one was sharp and quick, for it was meant both to stop her and to stop the idea, which was, for all its absurdity, ridiculously compelling: fly away and change everything yet again. She remarked, trying to lighten the idea away, “We’ve both said ‘I do,’ as Varsha found so amusing. Perhaps we’re married already.”

“In some version of the world, I bet we are.”

“I would in some version of the world marry you this minute. But I think we’d both enjoy getting to know each other just a bit better first... more importantly, however, if Charles isn’t invited to the event, he’ll riot.”

“All by himself?”

“That would be very Charles. Also, however, my parents.”

“They’ll riot?”

“Doubtful. Well, my mother might. But I would... want them here. For such an occasion. The right one.”

“If that committee hadn’t let me give you this ring, I would’ve rioted.”

“Once I became accustomed to the idea, so would I.”

Myka said, “I sprang it on you. I’m sorry.” She kissed the ring where it lived on Helena’s finger.

As severely as she could, given the kiss, Helena said, “You are in no way sorry.”

“See, you know me pretty well already. I love that I sprang it on you. I also love that you sprang it on me, reciprocally.”

“It did take me a moment.”

“Scariest moment of my life.”

“You don’t mean that,” Helena said.

“Maybe you don’t know me so well after all. What if you’d said no?”

“You never genuinely entertained that as a possibility.”

“I did though. The look on your face right at first? I don’t ever want to see that look again.” She pulled Helena to her. This kiss said Don’t frighten me.

Helena didn’t want to do that, but she did want to tell the truth. She said, “I’ll be honest: I’m not sure this will work as perfectly as I want it to. As some of our interactions have suggested it might.”

“That you want it to work perfectly is a pretty good start... plus that you think that some of our interactions have suggested it might, that doesn’t hurt. I do too, by the way. Want that. And think that.”

Trying to maintain her honesty, Helena asked, “Is it setting us up for failure? Nothing is perfect.”

“It’s all about goals. What’s failure? Aim for perfect, hit pretty damn wonderful.” And then she clearly decided to tell some truth of her own. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. But nothing will if we don’t start, so let’s.”

“I’m fairly certain we have. Look at what’s on my hand.”

“I had moments when I thought about having bought this thing—this thing that was too dangerous for me to have in my possession—and I wondered who in the world I was, who I thought I was, to even consider something like that. Something like that, with someone like you.”

These insecurities... they were Helena’s fault. “Who were you?” she asked, not at all rhetorically, for she intended to give a convincing, sure answer. “Someone with the fearlessness to consider, to push for, a better future. Meanwhile all I did was feel sorry for us. That was all someone like me could do: sit and wait for someone fearless like you to change the circumstance.”

“Fearless, foolish... but no matter how foolish it was, you’re right, it’s on your hand. I like it there.” She stopped, seemed to consider whether she wanted to go on. “Hm. Did you wear a ring before?”

“No, I’ve never worn one. I did the proposing. Gave the ring.” Did Myka want the reciprocal question? Helena went ahead and asked, “Did you? Wear one?”

This occasioned a sigh. “Weirdly, no. The wedding ring was going to be his grandma’s, and we were vaguely planning to retrofit something to go with it. I didn’t press the issue—didn’t care enough to. That should’ve helped clue me in, shouldn’t it?” That was said with a wry twist of lip, not a smile.

Of course both their pasts contained unheeded clues... “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve both made some errors.”

“I think it’s fair to say that we both failed upward.”

What an exquisite thing to say in this context, about what had gone wrong in the past—so exquisite that Helena could barely stand it. She felt a rush of willingness to take Myka up on the idea of being fast, right here... but that rush was an impulse, not an imperative. Instead, Helena got up from the bed. Stepped away. Regarded the woman still in it. Her face, its lines so deft, its beauty barely contained in a too-precise space, would always raise that impulse—no, imperative—to protect.

Pale, sick Myka, in a bed such as this one. Would Helena ever cease to see that day superimposed on Myka’s face and body? And would Helena ever cease to hear, inside Myka’s voice, an echo of that day’s weakest, most distressed entreaty: Will you be here when I wake up?

Of course I will, Helena had told her, and was that when she herself had made up her mind? When you wake up, I’ll be the first thing you see. Helena hadn’t known it then, but she had already begun speaking the vows. Keeping them. “In sickness...” she now said.

“Don’t worry,” Myka told her. “I’ll inflict plenty of health on you, too. Not to mention their friends: richer, poorer, and better.”

“What about ‘worse’?”

That made Myka smile with mischief. “Now who’s the one tempting fate?”

“Destiny,” Helena corrected.

Myka kept smiling, but she also narrowed her eyes. “Hm. Now that sounds like a koan.”

“What does?”

“I asked, ‘Who’s the one tempting fate?’, and ‘Destiny,’ you said. That’s the one tempting fate.”

“But I meant—”

“So the koan is, what happens when destiny tempts fate?”

Helena said, immediately, because it was true, “Charles would say, a car wreck.”

“What would you say?”

Helena would have smiled, largely and with intent, but she was already doing that, and Myka was doing that too, and Helena suspected they both would keep on doing that. She shook her head and exhaled, a little ripple-chuckle of jubilation. “What happens when destiny tempts fate?” she echoed, and Myka nodded. “What would I say?” Myka nodded again, her smile, impossibly, even larger. Now Helena shrugged. There was only one answer, so she gave it: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

TBC (epilogically in a few scenes that would play over the closing credits...)

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

glasses

Really quick and messy Fae AU ficlet with Phoenix and Ema, written in about an hour and a half, trying to get myself back into the swing of the AU.

On the sixteenth of April, a box arrives at the Wright & Co. Law Offices.

Phoenix is suspicious of it, because Phoenix is suspicious of most things. It makes life in Los Angeles easier to trust nothing and no one, a conclusion Phoenix came to the hard way and has remained true to since. He examines the box on the doorstep without touching it; seeing no enchantments or curses and a European return address, he gingerly carries it inside and sets it on the coffee table.

(He would be much more suspicious if it came from anywhere in the LA area, because this is the hotbed and haven of the Court, and Phoenix inextricably tied to its royal family, Maya with her rows of sharks’ teeth and Pearl’s opalescent shiny skin, Iris insubstantial like ash and Mia and Dahlia who Phoenix does not know what they looked like beneath glamour. There’s a second Court, Maya says, one that her family once split from, somewhere in the Himalayas, but she doesn’t know more about it or worry more about it than that, so Phoenix filed the information away in the back of his mind to remember if he ever meets someone or receives something strange from that part of Asia. But Europe does not fall in the area of his suspicious -- Europe was home to Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma, the two most solidly grounded people in Phoenix’s life, the two who look the same no matter what set of eyes he looks at them through.)

He cuts open the box and finds on top a letter, and beneath that, four Swiss chocolate bars that do not necessitate this box that is half again their length and deeper than them all stacked. The letter is written on lined paper torn from a notebook, the curly torn edge still attached.

Mr. Wright, it reads, and he almost recognizes the handwriting, a messy, loopy, child’s scrawl, and a quick run-down of his tiny circle of acquaintances and who among them are based in Europe lands him on the identity of the sender.

I lost the password for and got locked out of the email that I gave you back when, and I’d lost yours, so I had to snail mail but thought maybe it’s better for me to give you a box to start.

Phoenix sits down on the couch. There’s a few pages folded together.

Anyway I was home for vacation/as a translator for one of my professors - I get a scholarship for it! Sorry I didn’t get to see you. Didn’t have time, but I got to investigate a bit with Mr. Edgeworth. He seems to be doing good. I don’t know how much you talk. I helped him and his assistant on a couple cases and saw Detective Gumshoe too. It’s really helped my resolve to be a forensics investigator. (Sorry that I’ll be going up against you someday, but I’ve got to be on the prosecution’s side. I expect you to defend on all the cases I work on! It can be like a reunion.) Talking w Mr. Edgeworth’s assistant got me thinking, because she

Wait, his assistant? He has an assistant? It must be a new development -- in the past two months, since Phoenix last saw him. Ema can’t mean Franziska -- there’s no way Franziska would ever let a misconception like that take shape.

(Phoenix hasn’t spoken to Edgeworth since February. It’s probably time to reach back out.)

because she was talking about difficulties of what if there’s magic in the case that needs to be investigated. So I got an idea when we were talking about Luminol, and I was thinking about you and your magatama.

Phoenix does not like where this is going.

If it’s not too much trouble, can you get two magatama and mail them to me? I looked at mail rules and stuff and there’s no regulations about sending magical objects in the mail, I couldn’t find. You told me they weren’t particularly hard to make and the price shouldn’t be too steep, but you’re a lawyer and good with deals and contracts and I’m not so much. I didn’t think I should risk contacting anyone myself. I didn’t think you’d be happy about that. I need these to further the cause of science. You’ll be a great help. I can site cite you as my research assistant if I publish any papers on it. (The chocolate is not a bribe. I thought you might like it.) Sincerely, Ema Skye PS I have a new email

In spite of it, Phoenix laughs. “Oh, Ema,” he sighs, shaking his head, and then he glances quickly behind himself, because he feels like something or someone is at his shoulder. The office is empty, because of course it is, but he knows Mia would be interested, and definitely once she heard Ema’s name. 

He does admire Ema’s tenacity, and her enthusiasm, and that she’s at least mindful enough to know that she shouldn’t go out-of-the-blue trying to summon one of the fae to get a stash of magatama. (And that apparently part of her litmus is whether Phoenix would be disappointed in her.)

Taking the last page of the letter with him, he goes over to Mia’s desk and boots up the computer. It’s slow, but he has no inclination to get a new one. He’ll use it until it explodes. His money can be better put to other things, like groceries. He doesn’t use it enough to make a new one a worthwhile investment.

He pulls up a new email window and plugs in Ema’s address.

Ema, What exactly do you want two magatama for? I’m not going to consider anything without knowing what your plan is and advising you on whether it’s dangerous. -Phoenix

He waters Charley and picks a few pens up off the floor -- he doesn’t remember dropping them and not picking them back up and wonders if Maya appears in the night to scatter things -- and when he gets back to the desk he already has a response.

Mr. Wright. I think I have an ingenius solution for most investigators not having the sight. I’m going to mount hte magatama on a glasses frame for hands free investigating. I also want to see if I can use sandpaper/shop tools to cut open the hole in the center so it’s easier to see thru. I want to know if the exact shape of the magatama is important for its magical prowess and if it loses its power if parts of it are cut off. I think four might actually be a better number for the first batch. It gives me room to mess up. Thanks, Ema

Phoenix rubs his eyes and feels a headache approaching.

If you were going to try modifying it I wouldn’t recommend using anything metal, even if it’s not iron. Sandpaper would take longer but less risk of a bad reaction. But also, no.

It’s a really interesting question, actually, and Phoenix suddenly, badly, wants to know the answer, but he can’t condone the risk. Ema might draw attention to herself with the magatama, by altering them, or worse, attention from someone that wasn’t Maya or Pearl (because they are the only ones Phoenix would ask for a magatama) by her closer proximity to the Himalayas than Kurain. Or worse, she might succeed in making the glasses, wear them, and See things she shouldn’t and acquire bad attention that way. It’s rude to stare at the fae through a magatama -- the one rule for trying is don’t get caught which is difficult when it’s such an obvious and blatant motion -- and he fears that while there are no rules for a subtle magatama, one that doesn’t look it, the result might be even worse. Not only would she be staring, but Ema would also be trying to hide it, to get away with something she shouldn’t.

(It’s just scientific curiosity, he knows, nothing she means to be harmful, but They might not see it that way.)

Please, Mr Wright, it’s science! It’s important! Don’t you want to know? I’ll just take one to start with. It could really help our justice system and make sure that even magic isn’t above the law and isn’t getting away with crime.

He puts his head in his hands. God, Ema’s probably eighteen, now, isn’t she? She’s probably too old for him to petition to legally adopt her and bring her back to LA to keep an eye on her. Her extended family probably wouldn’t stand for it, anyway. He wonders what Lana would think.

I think it’s a clever idea, but too risky for you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt or locked in a bad deal or ending up like me. Promise me you won’t try and get any magatama yourself.

Mia likes to bind promises made in this office, make them stay true, and Phoenix wonders if that will work when one of them isn’t here, when Ema is on another continent, when Phoenix asks for the promise in electronic words. This isn’t honest of him, to try and lock her with magic into a promise, and for your own good is a slippery slope where naught but ash and bones lie at the bottom.

But Phoenix also spent a year living with my fault a mantra beating in his head, telling him that chosen death was my fault, and he was the one to introduce Ema to magic, to magatamas, to Sighted eyes, and if in investigating that she gets in over her head —

My fault.

He reads over his email again, after sending it, after he can’t take back the words, and it surprised him how much of his heart he laid out. I don’t want to see you ending up like me. He’s thought that, at Ema and Edgeworth and Franziska, but never said it. It’s easier for that sentiment to escape through his fingers than from his lips.

(He should try emailing Edgeworth but is afraid of what he might find himself able to say.)

Okay, okay, geez. You’re really serious on this. I like my soul where it is, tho, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not gonna give it up for a science experiment but once I’m home and a real forensic scientist I’m coming to your office and hitting you up for this experiment because I still think it’s really important even if you’re gonna be an old fuddy about it.

No one’s ever accused him of being old before, though admittedly he thinks that being old is a blessing he won’t actually ever be afforded.

Good, good. So how’s school going? What were the cases you investigated with Edgeworth about? I didn’t know he had an assistant.

She probably knows this is a clumsy redirect, something to distract her, and she doesn’t respond until the next day — he thinks she’s mad at her until she sends back a novel-length response detailing the specifics of the crime scenes, evidence discovered, culprits, and methods.

In the next few days it’s suddenly much, much harder to keep a normal conversation going, to avail himself of anything but puzzling out the indistinct pieces of the Gramarye case that has left him unmoored and adrift, but the sporadic times he does manage to keep responding to Ema, he doesn’t mention it.

She probably knows the Gramarye name — everyone in LA does, the local coven like cryptids who appear when desperately needed to cut little dangerous deals. And if he mentions Gramarye she’s probably going to think magic crime and she’s going to return to the thought of the glasses —

Safer to keep her separate from that. Safer to keep everyone separate from that.

He only learns from Apollo and Trucy that she’s returned to the States, is working down at the precinct and on crime scenes now.

She doesn’t appear on his doorstep to bug him for a magatama.

[klaineanummel]

eighteen going on extinct 17/20

Kurt Fabray just wants to relax after a tough week at school, but that is shown to be impossible when he realizes that his absent father has once again blown into town. Not wanting to spend more time around him than necessary, Kurt goes to his old babysitters house, the one place he feels safe when his father is in town. While there, he stumbles upon a secret he knows he was never meant to find out - one that could change the entire course of his life.

An AU very loosely based on Mamma Mia.

Warning for this one about vague discussion of past underage and non-explicitly identified dub-con.

Hope you all enjoy :D I'm hoping to update once more this week :)

Previous Chapter  |   Read on AO3

The ride to Blaine’s house is absolute torture. Blaine keeps a hand on Kurt’s thigh the entire ride there, every now and then slipping it dangerously close to Kurt’s dick. It’s the absolute best tease, and it makes Kurt’s heart race.

They practically run to Blaine’s house when they get off the bus, tripping over each other once they get in the house. “Shoes,” Blaine whispers as Kurt pushes him against the door, stopping him from kissing the daylights out of him like he wants to. “We should take our shoes off, so we don’t struggle later.”

“Well, aren’t you just full of amazing ideas.”

“I am,” Blaine grins. “You want to hear another one?”

“Always,” Kurt says, kicking his shoes off.

“We go down to my room, and I give you the best blowjob you’ve ever received.”

Kurt groans, pressing their foreheads together. “I love that idea,” he whispers, kissing Blaine lightly. “Can I make one request, though?”

“Of course,” Blaine replies, chasing after Kurt’s lips.

“After you give me the best blowjob I’ve ever received, you have to let me give you the best blowjob you’ve ever received.”

Blaine grins. “Done,” he says, taking Kurt’s hand in his, and leading him down to his room.

Kurt doesn’t know what he likes better: the sight of Blaine on his knees in front of him, mouth wrapped perfectly around his cock, or the sight of Blaine staring down at him as Kurt bobs his head up and down his dick.

Kurt barely breathes the entire time Blaine has his cock in his mouth, hand clutching at the back of Blaine’s neck, trying to stop himself from fucking into Blaine’s amazing mouth.

It’s easier to breathe when he’s the one on his knees. He actually really loves giving head, something he only seems to realize as he sinks down around Blaine’s cock. He holds Blaine’s ass tightly in his hands (and wow, he’s definitely going to be paying more attention to that part of him next time) and encourages Blaine to pump in and out lightly. Blaine makes the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard as he fucks Kurt’s mouth. It makes Kurt want to stay down there forever.

Of course, soon enough they’re both sated and spent, cuddling on Blaine’s bed under the covers.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long for that,” Blaine whispers. “To be honest, I’ve been dying to get your dick in my mouth for weeks.”

“What is with you and your dirty mouth?” Kurt asks, pinching Blaine’s side lightly and making him laugh. “I thought you didn’t like to cuss.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Blaine wiggles his eyebrows, and Kurt grins.

“I can’t wait to find out every single one.”

“I can’t wait for that either,” Blaine says, cuddling closer.

“And by the way, you don’t have to apologize for ‘making me wait,’ or whatever,” Kurt says. “You had a rule in place, and it was in place for a good reason. It’s so much better to get together now, when you know you won’t be moving away at any moment’s notice.”

“You’re so amazing,” Blaine says. “So amazing.”

Kurt pulls Blaine even closer and presses a kiss to his hair, trying to ignore the guilt pooling in his gut once more. “No, Blaine,” he whispers. “You’re the amazing one.”

They cuddle until they hear the front door opening, which causes them to jump out of bed and shove their clothes back on in a frantic rush. Thankfully they’re both fully dressed by the time Burt knocks on Blaine’s door to ask him if he’s ready for supper.

“Yeah, for sure,” Blaine calls back. “Just so you know, Kurt is here, so you know. Make sure there’s enough supper for three.”

Burt doesn’t reply for a moment, then says, “Didn’t we have a rule about bringing boys over without telling me?”

Blaine rolls his eyes and calls back, “It’s just Kurt.”

“I know,” Burt says. “Who do you think I meant when I made that rule?”

Blaine blushes, and Kurt laughs.

“Sorry, Mr. Hummel,” Kurt calls, even though it feels weird, so goddamn weird.

“Just get up here, you two. No more shenanigans.”

“There were no shenanigans,” Blaine protests as he and Kurt walk up the stairs.

“Yeah, right,” Burt says as soon as he lays eyes on them. “Nice hickey.” Blaine squeaks and slams his hand over the forming bruise. Kurt chuckles at him until Burt turns to him and calmly says, “Your shirt’s inside-out, bud.”

Kurt squeaks as well, something he didn’t think he was even capable of doing, and quickly takes his shirt off and puts it back on the right way. Burt just shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, calling out, “From now on, your door stays open when Kurt is around.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaine says back, blushing bright red. “Sorry, sir.”

Kurt can hear Burt chuckling, and whispers to Blaine, “I’m glad somebody is getting something good out of this situation.”

Blaine instantly pouts. “Are you saying the blowjob I gave you wasn’t good?”

Before Kurt can reply, they hear Burt shout, “Ha! No shenanigans, my ass,” which just makes Blaine blush harder, and Kurt burst out laughing.

Despite the awkwardness from earlier, dinner is absolutely lovely. There is something tugging at Kurt’s stomach the entire time, begging him to blurt out what he knows, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when Burt and Blaine’s decision to become a family is so recent. Not when he and Blaine have finally moved beyond mere friendship.

Not when he knows it would ruin the amazing dynamic they all currently have.

Kurt keeps falling in and out of the conversation, often getting distracted by the simple way that Burt and Blaine interact. Sometimes it’s just Blaine that distracts him – after all, he did just have his cock inside of that gorgeous mouth.

Blaine is usually the one who draws him back in, either with a nudge to the shin, or a forceful, “You agree with me, right Kurt?”

Near the end of dinner, though, it’s Burt who draws Kurt out of yet another dazed state, with the simple words, “I just know Lizzie would have loved you.”

He looks up sharply, sees Blaine smiling happily, and blurts, “Is that your wife?”

Burt looks over, surprised. “What?”

“Lizzie,” Kurt says. “Was she your wife?” Blaine is staring at him with wide eyes, so Kurt tries to shrug it off, excusing himself with a nonchalant, “I saw the picture in the living room.”

Much to his surprise, Burt just smiles. “Yeah, that’s Lizzie. She was the love of my life, my other half. She really would have loved Blaine.”

Blaine looks like he wants to get back on that track, but Kurt can’t stop himself. Not now that he knows he could finally be getting somewhere regarding Burt’s mysterious past with Kurt’s mother. “What happened to her?” he asks, probably a little too forcefully. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he quickly adds when Blaine kicks his shin under the table.

“It’s fine, Blaine,” Burt says, smiling softly. “I don’t mind you asking, Kurt,” he continues. He looks Kurt directly in the eye as he says, “She was sick. Cancer. She passed away a year after we got married.”

“Oh, my god,” Blaine whispers. “Burt, I had no idea…”

“Well, you never asked,” Burt teases gently.

“Still,” Blaine puts his hand on Burt’s forearm. “That’s… oh, my god.”

Burt shrugs. “I knew it would happen. She was sick when we got married. Hell, she was sick when we got engaged. I always knew that was how it would end up.”

“Is that why you ended it with my mother?”

You could hear a pin drop. Kurt doesn’t dare look up, not wanting to see the shocked look on Blaine’s face, or the potentially angry look on Burt’s. Still, he can’t regret asking the question. Due to the recent developments in his life, he feels like he needs to know about this, and clearly his mother isn’t going to tell him any time soon.

“So she did tell you,” Burt says after several seconds of silence. “I thought she might have.”

Kurt raises his eyes quickly, then looks away again the second he meets Burt’s eye.

“No, Kurt,” Burt says, voice still soft. “Your mother and I had already ended our affair when I found out Lizzie was sick.”

“So you did cheat on her, then,” Kurt says, eyes raising quickly. “On your wife.”

Burt shakes his head. “She dumped me a few weeks before I met Quinn,” he says. “I found out later that it was because she knew she was sick and didn’t want to put me through it, but at the time I was just angry. It felt like it came out of nowhere. And then Quinn was there, and…” he shakes his head again. “You must really think I’m a creep, huh?”

Kurt pushes his plate a little bit away from himself, for lack of anything else to do. “I mean. She would have been so young, and you’re clearly older than her…”

“I know,” Burt says. “That was why we ended things. Because she told me she was twenty-one, but I found out she was actually still in high school. I felt…” Kurt looks up in time to see Burt shutting his eyes, face pursed in disgust. “I felt like the worst human being in the world when I found out,” he finishes. “And then I found out Lizzie was sick, and…”

“You don’t have to talk about this,” Blaine says, giving Kurt a hard look. “If it makes you uncomfortable—”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Burt says. “It’s his mom, he deserves to know what happened.”

“His mom can tell him that,” Blaine whispers.

“She isn’t, though,” Kurt says. Blaine looks over at him, still clearly annoyed with the turn the conversation has taken. “She’s refused to tell me ever since I told her I met you. She keeps avoiding the subject or coming up with excuses.” He fiddles with the tablecloth a little. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” he says. “I just needed to know the truth.”

And he does. The truth is so fucking clear to him now that Burt has told him what happened. Keeping Burt a secret from Kurt, insisting that Puck was Kurt’s father, keeping Finn from doing a paternity test… He understands everything now.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, standing up. “I, uh. I have to go.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, standing as well. “You just forced my dad to reveal a deep, dark secret from his past, and you’re just going to bolt?”

Kurt smiles at Blaine’s wording, then glances down at Burt to see him smiling, too.

“Your dad?” Burt asks, voice raspy.

“I—” Blaine flushes. “I mean, yeah, of course you’re my dad,” he says, shuffling his feet. “That’s not – this isn’t the time. Kurt, come on, you can’t just force someone to divulge their past to you and then leave. That’s not how it works.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “I promise, I know, and I’m so sorry, but I really have to go. I have to talk to my mom, like, right now. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

He aims the last apology to Burt, but the man clearly doesn’t hear him, stars still in his eyes as he repeats, “Your dad.”

Kurt walks away from the table at that point, heading to the front of the house to grab his school bag. He glances back after slinging it over his shoulder and opening the door, and smiles at the sight of Blaine and Burt locked in a tight embrace.

The wind is cold, but his heart is warm as he steps out to walk to the bus stop.

He’s finally going home.

[parkjmini]

Outlier | 06

poly!au: park jimin x reader x kim jennie while your lovers said they needed you, you wondered if they knew how much you needed them. word count: 1748 genre: angst/fluff warnings: explicit language

[an]: this is just a quick filler chapter and it’s a little rushed :// im sorry for not updating for a while or being less frequent on tumblr. i had been super emo bc of college admissions but guys!! gr8 fucking news!! i got into my dream schools after sooo many rejections from other schools. im also not going to be updating/MIA for the upcoming week bc i have to practice for a 20 min presentation that will determine if i graduate jfc that im doing on friday ugh 

prologue . 01 . 02 .  03 . 04 . 05 . 06 . 07

The hospital wouldn’t let you leave. Your conditions had gotten worse and they needed you to stay in the clinic for the doctors’ to closely monitor your behavior. That meant scheduled meals, frequent chemotherapy treatments, more blood tests. Even though you did nothing at the hospital, everything made you feel extremely exhausted and your arms were bruised from the constant needles being poked into your skin.

Living at the hospital meant no more art classes or school. You couldn’t finish your college classes at your institution because you couldn’t leave. The school suggested to finish the credits through online courses, but it only caused you to lash out more. You hated what the cancer had done to your life. It robbed it. You were just existing now. 

You weren’t sure if you saw Jimin and Jennie less now or before during when you all lived together. They came to see you every day, if it wasn’t the both of them, it was one of them. You also saw Jungkook and Hoseok more often as well. You weren’t alone, because everyone’s visits managed to never cross.

Hoseok came usually around the late mornings to afternoons, mainly every other day or whenever he could. Jungkook came during the evenings, when Hoseok had to leave for his classes. Jimin came around the night, staying way past visiting hours. The nurses looked at him one night crying by your bedside and knew that visiting hours didn’t apply to him. Jennie came in the early mornings until Hoseok arrived and before she left for classes. The only time Jimin and Jennie visited together is when they didn’t have classes — those days were off limits for Hoseok and Jungkook.

The only times you’re alone is between the hours of when Jimin leaves and when Jennie arrives, but Jimin waits until you fall asleep to go home. You would say that your individual relationships grew more intimate, but you were afraid of Jennie and Jimin lacking moments. 

Hoseok and Jimin wouldn’t speak about their friendship to you, so you were unsure if they were even best friends anymore. You couldn’t help but feel like all of this was your fault. 

Hoseok was the one who sat with you during your chemo sessions because he’s the only one who has ever seen you that valuable. You wouldn’t allow anyone else to join you on your treatments and always asked them to wait for you in the room. Those days were the hardest to get through because the nurses did a poor job at distracting you of anything. 

“Hey baby,–” Jimin walked in as a nurse was helping you up from your bed. She paused and smiled at him.

“Hello Jimin.” She gleamed, almost as if she thought he called her his baby. You rolled your eyes and fidgeted to get her attention.

“Hey, I’m going to a chemo session. I’ll be back in a few—”

Jimin set his things down and helped you on your other side, “–I’ll just join you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s okay, stay here. I tell you this every time.”

“Yeah and I listen to you every time, which I knew after the first time, I shouldn’t because you come in a crying mess after it all. I know you let Hoseok go with you, but he’s not here now. I am, so let me be there for you.” Jimin stared intensely into your glossy eyes and the nurse waited for your consent before moving you.

A switch flipped in your heart. Those annoying heavy thuds of your heart went off. The redness in your cheeks radiating. You nodded and grabbed onto him for more balance. 

He rambled on about how his day went as he walked you down the hall into one of the million rooms in the hospital. The nurse strapped you up to begin your session and Jimin sat on your other side. 

Your mind always whirled before it all started, never really prepared for when the needle pierced through your skin. However, Jimin didn’t let you focus too much on it. He held onto your hand so tight and squeezed it repeatedly to draw your attention back to his presence. He talked continuously, merely rambles about the most random things that he encountered when driving or on campus.  

He made you feel 100 times better, even way better than when Hoseok came with you. Maybe it was the fact that he was your boyfriend, so his touch and his voice calmed your anxiety. 

“You really wouldn’t believe it, but Karen is going to go to her sorority formal with Trevor even though she already promised Garret. The guy was really pissed when he found out and started to rip each other’s throats out right in front of the lecture hall. I had my money on Garret, considering the dude is yolked, and Yoongi couldn’t give two shits about the fight but I made him bet anyways. He thought Garret was going to win too, but that’s not how a bet works, y’know? We can’t bet on the same person because who would owe who the money? But he didn’t care and said that he’d buy me food either way, which is great because that would mean that I win anyways.” Jimin kept his eyes locked on yours, rubbing his knuckles softly against your cheek to soothe you. His eyes never strayed to the massive syringe in your other arm or the nurse injecting it. 

At that moment, he only knew you. 

And you were unsure if the pain you felt was from the chemo or the burning sensation that came from your heart. 

“…so who won?” You barely peeped out and Jimin lit up with excitement, stars in his beautiful, big eyes. 

“Yoongi.” Jimin smiled and you gave him a confused expression. “It turns out Yoongi and Karen were already talking and had been secretly dating this entire time. She’d been trying to get him jealous by saying yes to all those guys, so he would step up and ask her to formal. He walked right in the middle of the fight, and I thought he was going to get punched into pulp, but they both calmly stepped away as Yoongi stood in between the two buff men. He told them that neither of them were taking Karen to formal and that he was already going with her because he’s her boyfriend. They all laughed until Karen jumped into his arms and kissed him in front of everyone, yelling ‘that’s my baby!’ and Yoongi threaten to cut them open for a lab, y’know how he’s a biology major, if they didn’t both leave them alone.” 

“What?” You wanted to laugh, but you weren’t suppose to move. However, hearing Jimin’s melodic chuckle made you smile. He leaned in and gave your silly, yet confused face a quick peck. 

“I told you that you weren’t going to believe it.” His toothy grin brighten up the dark, gloomy session room and you didn’t regret having him there with you one bit.

“What’s Jennie doing?” You asked as you fluffed Jimin’s raven hair. He rested on your chest as you both laid in your hospital bed. The only sounds were the monitor running and the light sounds of your breathing.

“Stuck at the internship.” He mumbled into your sheets.

“Why aren’t you there?” Staring at the ceiling, the street lamps cast shadows above you as people passed by on the street.

Jimin turned, his arm placed at either side of your body. His frown caught your attention as his face inched close to yours. “I quit.” 

“You what?” You said rather loudly. He put his hand over your mouth to hush you. You licked him and he giggled at your wet touch. “Jimin, I told you not change anything in your life to accommodate to me.” 

“Oh, but you know I love accommodating to the love of my life. Plus, I didn’t even need it. I have other opportunities waiting for me, babe. You mean a lot more to me than an internship.” He explained.

You rolled your eyes, in a playful manner. “Well don’t go shitting on Jen.” 

“Her values are different. Also, the people there are crazy about her and rave about her existence.” Jimin laughed and you cupped his squishy cheeks.

“Says the one that is also just as crazy about her.” 

“But I don’t rave about her existence, that’s the difference. It’ll make her head too big and then it’ll roll right off her shoulders.” You giggled and kissed him sweetly.

“I love you. I love Jen. I love us.” You marveled and your boyfriend’s glossy eyes stared back at you. His hands held onto yours as he kissed your dainty finger tips.

“I’m sorry for everything I put you through, (Y/N). I’ve been an incredibly horrible boyfriend to you and you deserved so much more attention from me. I love you, I really do. When Jennie suggested the idea to me about bringing you into our relationship, I became hesitant because I knew I wasn’t capable of spreading my love enough for two people.” His tears ran down his round, supple face. 

Jimin wouldn’t let go of your hands, so you leaned in to kiss his forehead instead. “So.. what changed?” 

“You changed me, as cheesy as it sounds, (Y/N), you changed my concept of love. You were always my close friend, who I wanted to protect with my life. After you joined us, I wanted to do more than protect you. I wanted to love you and for fuck sakes, did that hit me like a truck. I was so scared of never showing you enough of how much I loved you and then my worst fears actually came true. I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

Seeing Jimin cry had been a rare sight, and you hoped to never see him cry ever again. It hurt too much to watch the pain and sadness ruin his happiness. You were speechless and felt horrible for blaming the two for your own emotions. “Don’t apologize, Jimin. Just prove it to me.” 

“You fucking bet I will. I’m going to take care of you until you’re sick of me.” Jimin chuckled, his voice turning raspy as it got more into the night. He cuddled back into your side and hugged you tightly. Your eyelids fell over your tired eyes and you silently wished that you had more time to live.

[army-author]

taehyung scenario | x and o

❝ You accidentally send ‘xo’ at the end of a text to your daughter’s teacher, and he seems to get the wrong idea... ❞

➸ prompt: My ex will be at the Christmas party, so you agreed to pose as my fiancé to keep them away.

➸ pairing: teacher taehyung x parent reader

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of bereavement

➸ requested by anon | 11.4k words | fluff, teacher au

In the busy whirl that is the life of a single parent you’ve done some pretty stupid things – like running out of the house in your pyjamas to try and get your daughter, Mia, to school on time, or accidentally giving her your lunch of chickpea salad while you went to work with her sandwiches made with teddy-bear shaped ham, or forgetting to check the weather before driving her to school on a snow day, only to realise your mistake and ending up needing to call in sick off work so you could stay home with her.

But out of all the stupid things you’ve done, distracted by the blur of days that are never long enough, this is by far the stupidest. You stare at your phone in horror, gaping down at the ‘xo’ send at the end of the text. That was not meant to be there. How could you absentmindedly tack on kisses and hugs, normally reserved for your mother alone, and accidentally send them to Mr. Kim, your daughter’s young, and unnaturally handsome teacher?

If only you could delete texts… if only you could delete yourself…

‘That would be fine xo’ was certainly not the appropriate response, to ‘Hello. This is Mr. Kim. I got your number from the school office. Sorry for the bother, but would it be possible to reschedule our parent-teacher meeting?’

You bury your head in your hands with a groan, having a mental breakdown as you sit alone in the car, waiting for Mia to come out of her singing lesson. Why do your brain and your fingers hate you, typing out things you don’t intend? You debate sending another text to explain yourself, but then decide that doing so will only make the whole situation more awkward. So instead you leave it, and pray he’ll just think you’re the sort of person that sends ‘x’s and ‘o’s to everyone.

Thankfully, Mia’s coming out of class now, clanging open the car door and clambering in, offering her bubbling conversation as a welcome distraction from your screw up.

“Hello!” she beams, clicking in her seatbelt and chucking her folder of music into the backseat.

“Hello, Mia Mouse, how was it?” you ask, which causes her to puff up her cheeks, and complain:

“You know I don’t like that nickname…”

“Sorry, Mia,” you keep smiling, “I’ll try to remember.”

Mia’s in the middle of a phase, starting when she hit the grown-up age of eight, where she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be cute anymore, and has discarded her old nickname, along with her old clothes, all shades of pink. Now she wears purple and blue, always opting for jeans, although you still sometimes see her staring yearningly at the sparkly section in the kids clothing section, not completely over her ‘girly-girl’ phase, despite her efforts to convince you otherwise.

“So, how was singing, Mia?”

With you now addressing her correctly, Mia goes on to tell you all about her class, how she got through her scales easily, and how her teacher complimented her for her technique. “She even said that if I keep this up I’m bound to get a solo for the school’s Christmas play this year,” she tells you, bouncing up and down in her seat, as you pull out of the singing teacher’s drive and head towards home.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Mia!”

As you drive through the bright lights of town, the accidental ‘xo’ is completely forgotten…

♡♡♡

That is until the day of parent-teacher interviews - then it suddenly hits you again as you sit alone outside Mr. Kim’s room, looking at the displays dripping colour, showing off the scribbly drawings of the children in Mia’s class. You jog your knee up and down as you wait, restless and anxious, realising you’ll have to explain yourself when Mr. Kim calls you inside. Maybe he’s forgotten, or doesn’t even care. A handsome man like him must be used to single parents flirting with him by now. If their lives are anything like yours, parent-teacher meetings may be the only time for flirting. There’s zero time for finding yourself a boyfriend while caring for Mia. You barely have time to care for yourself, you think, with your eyes self-consciously falling to the worn nails of your fingers, well-chewed from the stress of work and child rearing. You wonder how many numbers Mr. Kim gets slipped during these sorts of meetings, how many dates he’s been asked on over his desk. You shake your head to clear yourself of these thoughts and the impure jealousy that rises from them.

What’s it to you if the handsome teacher gets attention from women confident enough to show their affection? You’re happy in your own little bubble, just you and Mia, living contentedly together. Developing a crush is pointless. You try yo convince yourself of this.

The door opens at last, and Mr. Kim’s husky voice reverberates in the hall as he says, “Sorry for the wait. Would you like to come in now?”

You gather up your bag and coat and follow him into his classroom, splashed all over with bright colours, times tables pinned up on one wall, another wall showing off the children’s dabbling in poetry and painting, and in the far corner is the class Christmas tree, covered with decorations handmade by the children.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to reschedule our meeting,” Mr. Kim says, as he sits down at his desk and extends his hand to offer you the space across from him, “I’m sorry if this is inconvenient for you.”

“Uh… no… it’s fine,” you say, trying to keep yourself from staring as you sit down. You’re struck once again by just how handsome Mia’s teacher is. You’d forgotten it from the last parent-teacher meeting, your mind going rusty after all those months. Seeing him again is a shock to the system, battering down the imperfect copy your mind had created. With your lips feeling numb, despite the heaters in the school being switched to max, you press them together to get them working again, and quickly say, “About the text I sent you… the ‘x’ and ‘o’ were an accident. I have a habit of adding them to my messages without thinking… it wasn’t meant to mean anything… just in case you thought I was… flirting or something…” you trail off, disconcerted with Mr. Kim’s eyes boring into you.

He crosses his hands in front of his face, creating a bridge for his chin to rest on as he listens. “Well, yeah, I had expected so much… it would be odd for you to be so forward.”

You blush, and fiddle with your hands in your lap, absentmindedly picking at your ragged nails. He’s not wrong, but it bothers you that he’s able to pick up on your personality so easily from the few parent-teacher meetings you’ve had, already pinning you down as the type to send ‘xo’ by accident, rather than on purpose. Feeling the need to defend yourself, you ask him, “How would you possibly know how forward I can be?”

Mr. Kim raises his eyebrows over his hands. “Because I have to deal with women who actually send me ‘x’s and ‘o’s on purpose, and they do an awful lot more than just that when we meet in person... Did you know that the mother that came in before you spent the entire meeting trying to play footsie with me under the table?”

“No!”

He leans forward. “That’s not all. When I went to shake her hand afterwards, she tried to lean in and do the European-style greeting, you know, with, like, kissing on the cheeks and stuff.” His eyes glitter as your own widen. “So, I figured since you’ve never tried anything like that with me, you probably didn’t mean those ‘x’ and ‘o’s. It was just a guess though.”

“I can’t believe you had to deal with that…” you say, “These meetings aren’t meant for flirting… they’re for our children.”

“Yeah… well…” He leans back in his chair again and shrugs, “Not all parents are as committed to their child’s education as you apparently.” He laughs mirthlessly. “But the flirting has certainly got a lot worse for me since I broke up with my girlfriend.”

This is new information for you. In fact, him having a girlfriend in the first place is news to you. You make a point of not delving too deep into the personal lives of your daughter’s teachers.

“That’s rough,” you nod sympathetically, as Mr. Kim’s eyes droop slightly, probably recalling all the trouble the break-up has caused him.

His hand falls to his mussed brown hair, carding his fingers through it as he sighs, “Yeah. Wish she hadn’t been so vocal about it on Facebook… she probably knew the trouble it would cause me.”

You look down to inspect your nails, an excuse to stop staring at Mr Kim, whose face is like caramel candy for your eyes. All calories.

He lets out a brisk laugh, more of a bark, saying, “Guess that’s what I get for dating a teacher! Let me give you a piece of advice, never date a co-worker. Not only do you have to see them every weekday, but they also know all the worst parts of your job and know how to make them even worse!”

Somehow this parent-teacher meeting has evolved into a therapy session for Mr. Kim, who seems unbothered or unaware that he’s unloading all of his problems onto you. You wonder if you should direct the conversation back to Mia or leave him free to ramble. It’s late in the evening, and he’s probably flagging after having to deal with so many other parents, some of which don’t seem to know what personal boundaries are, so you decide you should cut him some slack if the meeting is a little disorganised. You hum softly, to show your understanding and let him continue:

“And what’s worse, whenever your boss organises any kind of meet-up, you end up having to see your ex outside of working hours as well. Like at Christmas parties. Christmas parties! They’re the worst when you’ve had a break-up, did you know that? She’s going to ruin it for me… and Christmas parties used to be my favourite thing as well…” His lips press together, as he licks them, considering all his problems. Then he gives himself a shake and says, “Anyway, Mia!”

At last the meeting gets back on track. But you can’t get rid of the feeling that Mr. Kim still has more to say on the subject of exes, that the meeting took too sharp a turn back on course, and that something is expected of you after his tangent.  You get the sense that he wants to ask you something, but you can’t decide what it is. With this question clouding your mind, you try to listen as he explains how Mia’s grades are going, not telling you anything you don’t already know – Mia is doing well with music and art, but won’t show any interest for maths. You bite your lip, wishing you were better at maths so you could help her with that.

When that the meeting starts wrapping up, painless, no problems, Mr. Kim tells you, “Mia seems happy, she gets on well with the class, and she’s a delight to teach.” Your cheeks glow with pleasure and pride, hearing him praising your daughter.

As he collects his papers together, tapping them against the desk to straighten them, you grab your bag and coat, standing up ready to leave, before he halts what he’s doing, and says, “Actually… could I ask you something?”

You pause, the niggling question you had wedged in your head popping up again. “What’s that?”

He licks his lips, pink tongue poking out for a split second before he says, “Well… since you seem like a sensible person, with a good head on your shoulders… what do you suggest I do for the Christmas party?”

Your mouth freezes again, stuck slightly parted as you stare at him, caught, like a deer in headlights.

He smiles at you, only one side of his lips rising up.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because,” the other side of his mouth finally rises up into a symmetrical grin, showing off straight teeth that make you understand why the mother he met before you had tried playing footsie under the desk. “You and I are friends now.”

“Friends?” you repeat.

“You sent me ‘x’ and ‘o’s at the end of your texts, and I decided to keep your slip up a secret, instead of laughing about it with my colleagues in the staff room. That makes us friends.”

“What? So doing the decent thing and keeping your mouth shut somehow… makes us friends?”

He shrugs, “It’s enough for children to consider each other friends. Sometimes I think adults should try to live as simply as kids do. Life would be a lot easier that way.”

Not entirely sure how much you agree, you still admit that the idea is nice, but not nice enough to pull down your sceptical brows.

“Listen, how about I tell you a secret, and then we’ll be even?” Mr. Kim grins, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a split second he reminds you of the young children he teaches, looking like a school boy ready to break a few rules, rather than a grown man, responsible for the education of twenty children. Before you can tell him that you don’t need to hear it, he leans forward a little, and says, “I left our class hamster food next to my ex’s lunchbox last week so that it got covered in seeds and hamster litter, and then I blamed it on the children.”

“That’s incredibly petty,” you say.

He just winks. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You shake your head, fighting off a smile that seems inappropriate. “Well, if that’s the way you play, then for the Christmas party: I say you make your ex suffer. Especially after all the trouble she’s caused you with flirty parents…”

His eyes light up, and he begins rubbing his hands together, “See, I knew you were the perfect person to ask! What would you suggest?”

Caught up in his schoolboy glee, you can’t help but go along, letting your own mind run wild with childish vice. “The Christmas party would be the perfect time to show her how well you’re getting on without her.”

“Like… I’m earning more money and living in the lap of luxury without her?” he asks, brows furrowing with confusion. Despite the evil glint in his eye, he’s sweetly innocent when it comes to making trouble for his ex.

“No, no,” you shake your head firmly, “I’m talking about getting on well romantically! Go to the party with a new girlfriend, or better yet, a fiancé, and show your ex that you don’t need her… and if it gets out that you’re with someone new, then maybe your problems with overly… interested… parents will go away as well.”

“But I don’t have a fiancé...”

“I'm not suggesting you actually get one. Just pretend. To get your ex off your back.”

He stares at you, mouth hanging open. You worry you’ve frayed a wire in his brain with your your plan. But then he’s leaping from his chair and rushing around the desk to grab your hands in his own, bowing his head to you, “You’re god level when it comes to this!” he gasps, eyes rising up to meet yours again, “I’m not worthy. Thank you, thank you!”

You can’t help but laugh at his genuineness, releasing yourself from his hands with a shy shrug, “Well… I do what I can…”

“Will you be my fiancé then?”

You stop, shock crashing into you, leaving you speechless and breathless. You swallow, and finding your tongue once more, manage to stutter, “I didn’t mean with me. I – it was just a suggestion. I wasn’t-”

“Please?” He clasps his hands together, “I thought we agreed we’re friends, and a friend would do this for another friend.”

“No. You agreed that we’re friends,” you remind him, “I had no say in it.”

“You were the one who sent me ‘xo’ on your text.”

“By accident.”

He closes his eyes, “Please. Help me out here. You can’t suggest such a good plan, and then leave me hanging with no one to carry it out with!”

You consider carefully, then tilt you head to the side. “Fine.”

His eyes light up.

“But on one condition.”

His eyes go dim again.

“If I agree to this, then you have to get Mia a part in the Christmas play this year. She’s been working hard on her music, and she really wants to be in it.” You’re not doing this if there’s nothing in it for you... besides a handsome fake fiancé for an evening that is.

Mr. Kim stares at you for a few seconds. You can see the cogs working in his mind. Finally, he nods his head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do!” The he sticks his hand out to you. “Do we have a deal?”

You should know better, but, somehow, you find your hand in his and the fate for your Christmas holidays is sealed. “We have a deal, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, it’s Taehyung. We’re friends now.”

♡♡♡

As Christmas draws closer, your anxieties grow worse, and with Mia running to the car after school to you to tell you that she got the solo part for the Christmas play, you can only smile, while secretly dreading what you promised in payment. Seeing her face lit up with joy reminds you why you asked for it to begin with, and you know you need to bear the burden of it. Seeing her happy is all you want, and if one night of feigned romance is all it takes, then you’ll do it gladly.

“Well done, Mia Mouse,” you say, “You deserve it!” And although you know that she does, there’s a small seed of guilt rooted in your heart, reminding you of the cost of her happiness.

She doesn’t even seem to notice the unwanted nickname as you start up the engine and pull out of the school car park, casually adding, “Mr. Kim was asking about you by the way.”

You choke on a yelp of surprise, supressing it, since you don’t want your daughter to get suspicious. “Oh, really… did he?”

“Yeah,” Mia grins across from her seat, “He asked me how you were, and then he told me to tell you that he said hi. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“I suppose it was,” you say, trying your best to concentrate on the road, while your mind is racing elsewhere.

“I really like Mr. Kim,” Mia decides, as she stretches her feet up onto the glove box.

“Feet down, Mouse,” you remind, and she kick her legs back again with a sigh, before continuing:

“All my friends say Mr. Kim’s very handsome. Do you think he’s handsome?”

Suddenly it feels as if the Spanish Inquisition has begun in your car.

“Well… I suppose… he is classically handsome…” you answer, “He looks like he could be an actor, or a model.”

“But do you think he’s handsome?”

You just shoot her a quizzical look. “Why all the questions?”

Mia shrugs her shoulders, turning to look out the passenger window, “I don’t know…. Just… don’t you think it’s time you got a boyfriend?”

“Mia!” You almost swerve off he road in your surprise, but quickly correct your steering, while you try to adjust your voice to a volume more appropriate inside the car, “What’s brought this on all of a sudden?”

“Well… it’s just… all my other friends’ parents are married, or they have boyfriends or girlfriends. I was just thinking… since everyone’s parents will be going to see the Christmas play…” she trails off, leaving your mind reeling. All her life you’ve tried to keep her happy, straining to fulfil the roles of two parents at once, and sacrificing your own time and happiness for it. But you know there are some things you just can’t do, things that a father could. It has crossed your mind multiple times that you shouldn’t stay single, even if you only want a boyfriend for her sake, but there’s never been time, you’ve never had the energy, and she never seemed to be bothered by it. Until now. Maybe she’s only just starting to realise that something’s missing.

After a long silence, only the road rumbling below you for accompaniment, she asks, “Do you still miss dad?”

“Of course. Every day. But I believe he’s somewhere better now, watching over us.”

She smiles to herself. “I like to think that as well. Even if I don’t remember him. Do you think he’s proud of me for getting the solo?”

“Absolutely,” you tell her.

With that, the subject of boyfriends is dropped, but that doesn’t stop your singleness from burning in your mind for the rest of the day.

♡♡♡

As you sit in your room that evening, with Mia tucked up in bed, (although you know that she’s still up from the light peeking out under her door), you stare at your phone, scrolling through the lists of dating sites on offer. There’s bound to be one out there specifically made for single parents. The bright light burns into your retinas as you search, the itching reminding you that you should sleep.

You drop your phone onto the bed. It was a silly idea in the first place. As if online dating will fix everything.

But then you remember Mia in the car, wishing she could have a father to watch her in the school play, and you pick up your phone again, clicking on one of the more promising sites. You’re almost ready to sign in, finger hovering over the screen, until a text flashes up, blocking your finger with the words, ‘Mr. Kim Taehyung’. You pause, wondering why he’s texting… and at this hour…

You tap on his message to open it up, and read:

‘Well, Mia’s in the school play, so I suppose I should propose to you now. I’m looking forward to seeing my new fiancé at the Christmas party ;) The dress code is ‘smart casual’ by the way xoxo’

Despite knowing it’s all a joke, you find yourself smiling fondly at your phone screen. He’s not planning on letting you forget the ‘x’ and ‘o’s any time soon.

You reply back:

‘Wow. What a romantic proposal… not... I’ll see you there xoxo’ just to continue the joke, and then set your phone down and turn over in bed, the idea of dating sites dropped for now.

After all, signing up for that would be cheating on your fake fiancé. You can worry about finding a boyfriend once all this is over. You convince yourself that’s the reason for leaving the dating sites alone, but you know there’s more there, lurking below the surface, stemming from Taehyung’s interest in you. It would be foolish to assume his jokingly flirty texts mean anything – he’s unaware of his affect ninety percent of the time. But he’s not completely clueless, and you wonder if he knows what he’s doing with you.

You curl your toes under the duvet, and fall asleep with a grin on your face.

♡♡♡

The school looks different at night. This is the first thought to strike you as you park in the driveway, ready for your evening serving as Taehyung’s fake fiancé. Well, as ready as you can possibly be with a storm of butterflies in your belly.

You left Mia happy at home with the babysitter, who she insists she’s old enough to not need, although you know better. Now, you have nothing to worry about, except whether or not you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of Taehyung. The chances are highly probable, but you still find yourself smiling as you hop out into the freezing air, wishing you’d brought a coat to compliment your sweater dress and uncomfortable high heels. With your arms crossed around you to hold in as much heat as possible, you run to the school, using the side door that Taehyung promised to leave unlocked for you. You head to his classroom, where he’s still crouched over his desk, marking papers. He seems completely absorbed in his work, not even getting up to switch on the light, he sits in the dark, squinting at his work.

You rap lightly on his door, and he looks up, wide-eyed, like he forgot he invited you over to his room before the party started.

“Hi,” you hold up your hand awkwardly, not sure if you’re interrupting him from the flow of work.

A smile breaks across his face when he sees you, and he quickly jumps up from his desk.

“Hello,” he purrs in that deep voice of his, “I’m glad you didn’t bail on me at the last minute.” He almost goes for a hug, but then decides against it at the last moment, and instead offers you a quick pat on the shoulder, as he surveys your outfit. “You look good!”

“What about you?” you take in his well-fitting trousers, red tie, and white shirt, tucked in to accentuate his slim figure, “You look amazing!” you can’t help but gush. Amazing is an understatement. He really does look like a model. “You said it was smart casual,” you complain, “There’s nothing casual about this!”

He looks down at his outfit. “You don’t think it’s okay?”

“Well, no, it’s fine,” you tell him, “But I’ll feel underdressed standing next to you all evening.”

“What?” He pouts his lips, “But you look so pretty. You’ll be fine.”

He might say that, but you still feel embarrassed about your simple dress, and black tights, with no jewellery to set it off. Self-consciously, you wring your hands together.

“Oh, before I forget!” Taehyung dashes back to his desk and hunts about in the drawer by his seat, pulling out a small box, “I got this to make our story convincing.”

He opens the box and pulls out a shining ring, with a diamond sparkling at the centre. “Give me your hand.” His voice is low in the darkened room, pulsing through you like a tremor in the earth below your feet. Body responding to him before your brain does, you hold out your hand, and he takes it in his own, slender fingers wrapping around yours as he pulls you a step closer, and carefully slides the ring on. With his hand still supporting yours, you admire the shine of the diamond on your finger.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, staring in awe, “I hope you didn’t go out and buy this just for me.” It’s meant as a joke, but then you remember his recent break-up and the thought shoots through you, violently, like a bullet, that maybe this was intended for his ex.

He quickly dispels your worries, with: “It was my grandma’s.”

“Your grandma’s?” You gape at him, “Are you sure it’s okay if I wear it?”

He grins, “It’s fine. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“For you to use it to get revenge on your ex?” You raise your eyebrow at him, and he offers a wide grin in return:

“She had a good sense of humour.”

Still unsure, but happy that he deems you worthy of his grandma’s heirloom, if only for one night, you remember: “We should probably come up with a good story before we go out.”

“Oh right!” he frowns, “How should we say we met?”

You fall silent, thinking, before you decide, “Maybe we shouldn’t stray too far from the truth. We can say that we met at a parent-teacher meeting.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, “And then I was interested in you, so I asked if we could grab coffee together sometime… but you played hard to get…”

“Until I thought about Mia and how she would need a good male figure in her life,” you say, blushing at how close it is to the truth.

Taehyung hangs for a breath, considering what you’ve said, “And when you saw how good I was with children, and how well I got on with Mia, you decided I was the one.”

“And the rest is history.”

You stare at each other in the half-light, Taehyung’s pupils dilated without the sun. For a second you almost let yourself get swept up in your made-up romance, tantalisingly close to reality. It could almost be true, but it’s just out of your reach.

“I like that story. Let’s go with that,” Taehyung nods, breaking the spell, as he goes to grab his blazer from the hanger by the door. His designer clothes look odd hanging off one of the pegs designed for children’s coats. He puts it on, and then gives a spin for you, “Do I look okay?”

You beckon him over, and when he reaches you, you stretch out your hand and hook your finger through his tie, loosening it slightly before you pull out the top button. “There, now you look a bit more casual.”

He chuckles, a deep sound at the back of his throat. “You know I have to tell off my students when they don’t have their school ties neat, so this feels a bit hypocritical.”

You shrug with a smile, “What your students don’t know won’t hurt them. It can be another secret we share.”

His smile widens, lips parting. “Alright.” He reaches out his hand to you, and you take hold of it. With one shake, he promises, “Partners in crime.”

“Partners in crime.”

As you leave the room, you keep your hand in his, lacing your fingers together – just as practice for later, when you’ll have to convince his ex that you’re in love.

♡♡♡

The school Christmas party is being held at the bar and restaurant in the next street over from the school, but a few of the teachers are meeting up outside the front doors to walk down together. As you approach the crowd, you feel your stomach dipping, and grab Taehyung’s hand a little tighter. “Is she there?” you whisper, to which Taehyung answers:

“No. No sign of Inna yet. I’ll warn you when she shows up.”

Two men spot Taehyung and come over, smiling. You fix on a smile, despite the worry pricking your skin.

“Well, Taehyung, who’s this?” The taller one asks, “We didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

You freeze under their curious gazes, but Taehyung, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, announces, “This is my fiancé.”

The two men’s faces go slack in surprise, while Taehyung, seemingly oblivious of their reaction, explains to you, “These are my friends, Namjoon and Seokjin. We’re the three Mr. Kims of the school, and we ended up getting to know each other when all of our photocopying would get sent to the wrong Mr. Kim.”

You chuckle as he tells you the story, but can’t remain completely ignore the shocked stares you’re receiving from the other two Mr. Kims.

“Taehyung?” the taller one, introduced as Namjoon, exclaims, “You’re engaged?”

Taehyung turns back to them with an innocent smile, eyes devoid of anything worthy of suspicion, “Yeah!”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

Taehyung scratches at the nape of his neck, “Well… after what happened with Inna I didn’t want to go around announcing my latest adventures in love… but things are going really well, obviously,” he holds up the hand that holds yours, showing the shining ring on your finger, “So, I guess this is our announcement.”

Seokjin and Namjoon just stare at him blankly. “No way,” Namjoon says, “There’s no way.”

With a husky giggle, Taehyung raises his hands up in defeat. “Okay… you got us… actually, keep this between us four, but we’re just pretending to be engaged to keep Inna off my back…”

Namjoon frowns, dimples pressing into his cheeks as his lips thin into a line. Seokjin on the other hand, seems excited by the idea, giving Taehyung’s arm a light push. “Mr. Kim number three! That’s sneaky!”

You incline your head towards Taehyung, raising your eyebrows in a question. “Is it okay that they know?” you ask.

“You can trust these two,” he says, “They won’t tell anyone.”

After all you had shared with Taehyung, you feel oddly let down that he had so easily revealed your plan to these tow men. Betrayal might have been an over-exaggerated reaction, but there’s no other word to describe the nibbling in your chest.

As the group starts moving towards the restaurant, ready to meet the other teachers who are already there, your feet drag and Taehyung ends up pulling on your arm a little to keep up with his co-workers. His head turns back as he walks, face lit up with the blues of the Christmas lights. “You okay?” he asks, “Too cold? Do your feet hurt in those shoes?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine.” But already he’s moving back, shrugging off his blazer for you, and offering you his elbow to relieve some of the weight off your high-heeled shoes. With him fussing over you it’s hard to stay upset, even if you do feel some childish disappointment stirring in your gut because your secret doesn’t belong to just you and him.

You barely have the right to be upset in the first place; you can’t explain why you feel upset about it, let alone try to relate it to him.

With Taehyung helping you along, the scent of his cologne leaking into your head from his blazer, you walk in silence behind the rest of the group.

“So, how’s Mia,” Taehyung asks, making conversation as you try to keep balanced on your heels.

“She’s good,” you say, face softening into a smile when you think of her, “I left her with a babysitter, which she was a little upset about. She’s at that stage now where she thinks she’s old enough to stay home by herself… maybe that’s me being too protective.”

Taehyung shakes his head, a laugh rumbling through him, “No, a babysitter’s probably for the best, although the name ‘babysitter’ isn’t so good. Kids don’t like to be called ‘babies’ and they certainly don’t like to be ‘sat’ on.”

The joke is stupid enough to make you crack a grin. “Yeah… with Mia there certainly won’t be any sitting happening anyway. The sitter will be on her toes all night!”

“Mia’s great,” Taehyung rumbles, “Always so cheery when she’s in class. And so full of energy.”

Your chest swells with pride when you hear this.

“And so talented too,” Taehyung continues, “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this now, since you might feel a bit cheated, but she actually got the choir solo without any of my input… so I guess I didn’t even uphold my end of the bargain.”

“That’s my girl!” you smile, so overcome with pride that you can’t get angry at Taehyung’s deception.

On a high from your daughter’s accomplishment, you finally arrive at the restaurant, and all your good feelings come crashing down, to leave cold fear. Your hand grips at the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt as the other teachers who were waiting at the restaurant wave you inside, babbling over who should sit where and how nice everyone looks.

“Which one’s the ex?” you ask, tugging on Taehyung’s sleeve to keep his attention amidst the buzz of noise.

Taehyung nods in the direction of a woman sitting at the far side of the table, conversing with some friends. “That’s her,” his voice sounds distant, something you’ve never heard in his tone before, “That’s Inna.”

You sneak a glance at her, as casual as possible, and feel your insides wring themselves out. She’s absolutely stunning, dyed blonde hair hanging in waves around her slim face, strong make-up making her look like she just stepped out of a beauty magazine. She really does seem perfect for the model-like man by your side. You’re struck by your own ordinariness compared to her, and despite not even being in a real relationship with Taehyung, you feel your confidence departing you in tatters.

She glances over, sensing your looking her way, and her false-eyelash eyes narrow when she spots your arm through Taehyung’s. She mutters something to her friends, and then stands up, giving you a display of her tight-fitting back dress, sparkling down to the middle of her thigh, showing off well shaped legs, accentuated with tall heels. She walks over, a lot more confident in her stilettoes than you are in your own small heeled shoes.

“Taehyung,” she coos, and his eyes widen at her tone. You’re not sure if he’s surprised to see her talking to him, or if he’s struck by the dress that leaves little to the imagination, but you see him lick his lips nervously, before he responds:

“Inna. It’s been a while.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which stay glued to the ring on your finger. “Yes, well… I figured since it’s Christmas I’d try to be nice. You know… season of good will and all that.”

Taehyung winces a half-smile. “That’s good of you.”

She giggles, high-pitched and breathy. It’s the kind of laugh you used when you were in high school, trying to make boys look your way. “And who is this, Taehyung?” she finally looks to your face, acknowledging your existence as more than an arm attached to her ex. Her brown eyes sparkle bright as she sweeps you up and down. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze to the floor – the room suddenly swims with heat and the smell of wine.

“This is my fiancé,” Taehyung explains.

“Fiancé?” Inna’s voice rises above the murmuring of her colleagues, turning to you with her mouth hanging open in exaggerated surprise, although you can see something else, much more sinister burning below the surface, “Wow. So soon?” Her smile is scarier than the most furious of glares, and you feel as if she’s stabbed you in the face with her bitter-cocoa eyes.

“Yep,” Taehyung pops the ‘p’ in his response, souning oddly terse compared to his normal tone. This whole thing is getting more and more awkward by the second, and it suddenly strikes you how bad this idea is.

Taehyung continues, “When the right one comes along, you just know, don’t you, baby?” He nuzzles his nose into your neck, skin cold against you, and you bite down on your surprise, smiling through your shock.

“That’s right.”

“I’m so lucky,” Taehyung breathes against your skin, and even though you know it’s a show for Inna, you can’t stop your heart from missing a beat. Maybe he’s spooning in on a little too thick now.

You see Inna’s lips pucker in a scowl, before she softens out her pretty face again and smiles, “Well, isn’t that just great!”

There’s an awkward silence, and then she continues, “Well, anyway... my boyfriend’s taking me on a trip to France next month.”

Jealousy is already rippling out from her, and you’re not a minute into conversation. You swallow, not sure if you should laugh, or bolt away before she rips your face off - those unsmiling eyes in her smiling face promise your pain.

As Taehyung stiffly mutters about how nice France will be, and how she should take advantage of all the good food while she’s over there, you feel a hand slide around your shoulder, and Namjoon and Seokjin appear at your other side, saying, “Taehyung, we’re just going to steal your fiancé away for a split second.” Before you or Taehyung can protest, they drag you out of his hold, and towards the other group.

With the air clearing the further you get from Inna, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“We thought you needed some help,” Namjoon says, “Inna looks about ready to claw that ring off your finger.”

“Will Taehyung be okay?” you worry, glancing behind to see him standing poker-straight, feigning interest while Inna talks.

Seokjin nods his head. “We’ll give them a second alone to sort themselves out, and then we should probably keep them away from each other for the rest of the evening.”

You can’t keep your gaze from straying back to Taehyung as his friends lead you around the group, politely introducing you to the other teachers. Your stomach squirms uncomfortably seeing Taehyung talking with his ex, and you wonder what’s wrong with you. You can’t be worried about him being with his old lover when you don’t even count as a new lover. Still, you can’t relax until he manages to detangle himself from the knots of Inna’s conversation, and escapes back to your side.

“You okay?” you ask him, as he slots his hand back into yours.

“Yeah. She just kept on talking about how nice her boyfriend is, and how much money he’s spending on her…” you see Taehyung’s jaw tensing as he talks, and rub your thumb up and down the back of his hand, soothing.

“Do you think she’s jealous?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung looks at you, “What do you mean?”

You raise your shoulders in a small shrug. “What I mean is… in her mind you’ve left her and got on with your life. You’ve got it all settled. She’s trying to prove that she’s got everything she could want, that she’s just as happy as you…” You let out a sigh through your nose, “Sorry… I came up with this idea just to keep her off your back, but maybe it made the whole situation worse.” But even as you explain this, another possibility is burning bright in your head: that Inna isn’t jealous of Taehyung for getting his life sorted out, but she’s jealous of you, realising what a great guy she got rid of.

As her eyes burn through you from the other side of the room, you become more convinced of this possibility, and a curiosity niggles at you. How exactly did Taehyung and Inna part ways… and is there a possibility of them getting back together? You glance up at Taehyung, who’s refusing to look back at his ex, and swallow before asking, “Sorry if this is too personal, but how exactly did you break up with her?”

Taehyung’s sides heave in a deep sigh. “It’s… not too personal. But it is a complicated story and I was never good with words-”

Before he can even start, the man you recognise as the headmaster is tapping his wine glass with a spoon, and saying: “Dinner will be served soon, and before we all take our seats, I’d just like to say a few quick words.”

“Ha!” Taehyung mutters under his breath, “When he says quick words what he really means is a ten page pre-made speech.”

You can’t help but giggle at this, and quickly disguise it as a cough, while the other teachers fall silent, listening.

By the time the headmaster is done thanking everyone, your feet are aching in your shoes, and it’s a relief to sit down at the table next to Taehyung. For a second, as Inna passes your spot, you worry that she’ll sit down next to you and make the whole evening awkward, but instead Namjoon and Seokjin quickly slot themselves into the seats around you, and Inna ends up at the other end of the table, out of sight and out of mind.

The rest of the dinner passes by in a blur of lulling conversation, and a few glasses of wine to make the meals melt together in a swirling of jokes and laughter. It’s pleasant, sitting by Taehyung’s side, with him smiling and laying his hand on top of yours on the table when the occasion calls for it. You had forgotten what it was like to go out without Mia, but this is a pleasant reminder.

Before you know it, your dessert plates are being taken from you, and a few teachers are waving goodbye, while another group talk about going upstairs to the bar for a couple more drinks.

You’re aware that you should get home to Mia, but Taehyung’s colleagues are pulling him back, saying, “Come on, Taehyung. It’s not like you to go home early.”

He pauses, stuck between the hold of his friends and your own hand wound in his. He looks back to you, clearly torn, and you know how bad it will look if you separate now.

For a second you worry he’ll give in to his friends, but then he shakes his head, stepping towards you. “Sorry, but my fiancé needs to get home soon. We’ve left Mia with a babysitter, but I’m sure she’ll want us home soon.”

Your heart swells with gratitude, thankful that he explained it for you, not leaving you to flounder among his friends that you barely know.

But his co-workers are unconvinced, cajoling him – “Just one more drink. Don’t tell us that getting engaged has made you boring!”

Inna choses this exact moment to insert herself into the conversation, saying, “I never thought you’d be the type to go for someone with kids, Taehyung.” Her voice is icy, and you don’t know if the frost is directed at you or at Taehyung, but it makes you shiver, despite the heat in the room.

Taehyung gapes at her, clearly lost as to what he should do, searching his brain for what to say. In your hand, you can feel his fingers damp. “Well… Inna… like I said, when you meet the one, you just know, you know? And I love Mia as well. I really do. She’s a part of the family…”

Inna sniffs, and then shoots you a look you can’t quite fathom. With the exchange clearly finished, Taehyung’s friends butt in once more, and with one firm tug on his arm, pull him towards the bar, saying,“Mia can wait. You don’t mind, right?” Not wanting to cause a scene, you bend:

“One more drink’s fine.”

And so, you find yourself being pulled up the stairs to the blaring music of the bar, and the burning bright lights of the small dancefloor set up at its side.

“Sorry you got dragged into this,” Seokjin murmurs to you, as the group detaches you from Taehyung, herding him towards the bar to order drinks, and with Taehyung turning back to give you a guilty grin, you press your lips together in a line, and turn your attention to the other Mr. Kim.

“It really is okay. Mia can handle herself,” you tell Seokjin. You know it’s true, but you still feel bad. It’s already approaching eleven o’clock and you said you’d be back at half ten.

“I don’t know if you’ve realised,” Seokjin says, “But Taehyung’s pretty popular at our school. He’s sort of known as the mood maker among our co-workers, and we all joke that a party can’t be a party without him. That’s why it’s important he stays… even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Really?” you watch as Taehyung frowns over the bar menu, and then gives his order to the bartender, adam’s apple moving as he shouts to be heard over the music.

“You’ll see what I mean,” Seokjin offers you a wink, and then moves over to talk with Namjoon, while you slide back to Taehyung’s side again.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, as his rum is slid over to him, “You’re not just saying it’s fine when it’s really not fine?”

You nod. “I said I’d be home by half ten, but Mia’s pretty independent, so she won’t be worried… I just hope the babysitter has the sense to put her to bed soon. She’ll be grumpy tomorrow if she doesn’t get to bed early…”

Taehyung chuckles at this, “Yes, I’ve seen her grumpy in class. She’s certainly a force to be reckoned with.”  He takes his rum in one gulp, and then sucks in a breath through his teeth with the alcoholic burn. “We’ll leave after a few songs, okay?”

You nod as he slips from your hand, shrugging off his blazer and handing it to you. With a smile your way, eyes bright, he heads for the dancefloor, loosening his tie. He means serious business when it comes to partying, and you can’t help but smile after him, while the other teachers begin cheering as he steps onto the dancefloor.

As the next song starts up, you’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting. With Taehyung this could go either way - he could take dancing completely seriously, or he could make a whole joke out of it. It turns out that it’s a mixture of the two. He begins striking strong poses, with legs and limbs twisting, all in time with the music, and all completely over exaggerated, while still looking like they could be the ending poses of a fashion runway. You end up laughing along with the other teachers, and every so often, he’ll shoot a glace to where you stand at the edge of the floor, gauging your reaction, and obviously happy when he sees you grinning at him.

As you wait on the edge of the group, you sense someone sidling up beside you, and turn to see Inna by your side.

“Hi,” she offers you a smile, and you return it, as polite as possible.

“Hello.”

“Um… listen…” she curls a strand of bleached blonde hair around her finger, “Can I talk to you… somewhere a bit quieter?”

Your stomach twists, worrying what she could have planned for you. You’d rather not agree, but you don’t want to be rude, so you shrug, “Sure.”

She heads back towards the stairs leading down to the quieter foyer of the restaurant, and you have no choice but to follow behind, but not without shooting a glance back to the dancefloor, desperate for help. Taehyung pops into your vision for a split second in between all the other bodies, and his brows raise quizzically at you, while you give him a look that translates roughly to: “I have no idea what she wants with me, but I’m scared”.

On the ground floor again, Inna turns to you, and you cross your arms defensively, asking, “What do you want?”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair, before she says, “Listen, I know I might have come across as a little bit… cold tonight, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I was just... um... surprised that Taehyung’s already thinking about marriage! And to someone who already has a child as well!”

“What’s wrong with having a child?” you ask, ready to shield yourself from whatever judgement she might throw.

“Well… you know,” she raises her eyebrows as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s just extra baggage. And I didn’t think Taehyung was… mature enough to handle that.”

Irritation stirs inside you, “Actually, Taehyung’s amazing with children. You should know that yourself, seeing him in school everyday.”

She snickers, “Yeah. Only because he’s a child himself!” She raises her hand to her mouth, and clears her throat before continuing, “Ah. Maybe I’m coming off as rude again. I really don’t mean it.”

You’re believing it less and less every time she says it.

“Seeing Taehyung acting so mature now, I thought maybe I should start acting a little more my age myself,” she goes on, “And since I’m an adult, I’d like to tell you that I don’t have any bitterness towards you, even if you are with my ex. I can move past that. And I think it would be nice if we became friends.” She smiles sweetly at this, extending her hand to you.

She seems to have the same ways of securing friendships as Taehyung, settling it over a handshake. But this feels different from when you agreed to help Taehyung. Something in her smile warns you that there’s more to her than her sugar-coated words, and you keep both hands firmly by her side, refusing her offer.

She scowls as you remain motionless.

“Sorry,” you say, “I think… it would be best if we just kept to ourselves. You’ve broken up with Taehyung for your own reasons, and I think you should try to stay out of each other’s lives now.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” she snaps, acerbic as she jerks her hand back to her side, placing it on her hip, “Whatever. If you’re worried about me, then don’t be. I don’t want him back. You’re welcome to him.” And with that she storms off.

Seeing her terse reply is enough evidence that you did the right thing. From her track record of passive aggression, and her complaining about Taehyung all over social media, you already know she only wanted to use you as yet another way to get back at her ex, as if she hadn’t made his life miserable enough. She can’t seem to let go of her anger. You feel a little sorry for her, and for her new boyfriend. Only a little.

Returning upstairs, you decide it’s about time you went back home. Taehyung’s still busy on the dancefloor. As he spots you in the crowd, he waves you over and you read his lips moving, trying to shout over the loud music, “Come dance!”

“We need to go now,” you try to tell him, and he frowns at you, obviously not hearing you over the thrumming beat. You try again, raising your voice, but he still looks totally lost, instead just shouting, “Come on!” and you let him pull you onto the floor, holding your hand as he continues to make a spectacle of himself in front of his co-workers. You bow your head, hiding your face in his shoulder to escape the embarrassment as he keeps moving. But as you nestle closer to him, his movements becoming smaller so he doesn’t end up hitting you with one of his wild limbs, and the other teachers begin cooing over how cute the new couple is, and now you’re embarrassed for a completely different reason.

As the last chords play out, you take the small gap of silence before the next song to say, “We really should go, Taehyung.”

He nods in agreements, and you sigh in relief, seeing the end of the night finally in sight. With Taehyung making his rounds through the group, saying goodbye and shaking hands, you finally feel your body relax.

At the door, you hold out his blazer to him again, but he shakes his head. “It’s cold outside, keep it.”

And with that, you open the doors to the frozen December air and step out, waving final goodbyes as the door swings shut on the noise of the restaurant. With your breath billowing in clouds, Taehyung offers you his arm to help you walk back to the school again, where your car waits with heated seats and a short drive back home.

“Thank you for this evening,” Taehyung says, as you walk down the street, now quiet with everyone either busy partying, or wrapped up at home. Each step is becoming more painful for you, so unused to your high heels.

“It’s no problem,” you say, forcing yourself to smile, even as your face fights to wince instead.

“I really appreciate it,” Taehyung goes on, “I’m not good with words, but… I guess, if you were one of my students I’d give you one hundred gold star stickers. You did an amazing job being my fiancé.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his explanation, but then end up wincing again, and stop in your tracks.

“Hey, is it okay if I take off my shoes? These heels are killing me.”

“In this cold?” Taehyung asks, while you bend down to undo the buckles, and step out of the prison of straps. Even on the frozen concrete, feeling your soles flat again is deliciously soothing.

“It’s okay,” you say, wiggling your toes in your tights, “It’s not too cold.” You say this with another clouded breath misting from your mouth to completely debunk your argument.

Before you can say anything else, Taehyung kneels down in front of you, offering his back. “Get on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“I’m fine Taehyung,” you say, picking up your high heels and stepping around him, “My car’s only a street away.”

“Exactly, it’s only a street away and I can carry you no problem.” Without any more warning than that, you feel his arms wrapping around his waist and the world tips upside down as he heaves you into a fireman’s hold.

“Taehyung!” you hit at his back, trying to argue through your laughter, “Put me down. I can walk.”

“Sorry,” he hums, “But if you won’t accept a piggyback from me, then this is the only way I’m letting you travel back to your car.”

“Okay fine!” you admit defeat, “I’ll take a piggyback! But not this. Please.”

Satisfied, he sets you down again, and you skirt around to clamber onto his back, arms locking around his shoulders. With a gentle “hup” he lifts you up, hands firm on your legs, as he holds you up and continues walking towards the school.

You go on in silence for a short distance, only hearing your heartbeat thundering in your head, and Taehyung’s gentle breath as he walks.

At last, he cracks the quiet, asking, “What did Inna want with you?”

“Oh…” you’re taken aback by his question, but continue, “She wanted to apologise for her behaviour… said something about wanting to be more mature… but I don’t think she really meant it.”

Taehyung laughs at this. “Good. I was worried she might say something nasty. I was going to go down and get you myself, but the other teachers kept holding me back, and… well, you handled it yourself anyways, so I guess you didn’t need a knight on shining armour after all.”

You rest your chin against his shoulder. “You never did explain why you broke up.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he doesn’t want to tell you, but then he says, “We both had very different ideas about what we wanted from a relationship, I think. She always thought I was too childish, and that I wasn’t responsible enough… I guess I kind of was… I was scared of ever committing to her. You know, we’d been dating for quite a long time, but I never mentioned marriage or anything. She didn’t even move in with me. That was bad sign for her… she kept getting angry, wanting to move her stuff over to my place, and saying I mustn’t love her enough if I didn’t want to live with her. But there was… something holding me back… I don’t know how to explain it… but… it was intrusion? Intru… no! Intuition. It was intuition.” He laughs at himself. “Sorry, I get so used to speaking simply with the children that I forget how to use long words with adults sometimes.”

You smile, “It’s okay. I’ve only spent my free time with Mia for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know how to relate to adults either.”

“At least we know how to talk with each other then…” Taehyung chuckles, with a cloud of mist escaping his throat, “Anyway… Inna didn’t really understand me, and I guess I never understood her either, so we ended up breaking up. She blamed my immaturity for the whole thing.”

“But that wasn’t immature!” you feel anger bubbling up, “In fact, from the sounds of it, you behaved very maturely in that situation. If you can’t relate to each other, then the relationship can’t possibly last. It was good to end it as soon as you could.”

He nods his head, “I thought so too… but I am sorry that it ended so badly...”

“No, don’t be,” you adjust your grip around her shoulder, holding him a little more tightly, partly to keep yourself from slipping off his back, and partly to offer him some comfort under your touch.

As he turns the corner, and the school appears ahead of you, you feel a tug of remorse that the night is over, that you’ll have to leave Taehyung’s hold and return to being single. It was nice to remember what it was like to have someone to hold hands with, someone to be with, and the whole evening had almost convinced you to fall in love again, to allow yourself the leeway to care for someone else besides your daughter. It’s difficult to remember that Taehyung isn’t anything more than a self-proclaimed partner in crime, and that the ring around your finger is nothing more than a prop.

As Taehyung walks you up the school drive, he says, “Well… I’ve told you what happened to me and Inna… would it be too rude to ask what happened to Mia’s father?”

You fall silent as he reaches the edge of the car park, slipping off his back and onto the cold pavement.

He turns back with wide, worried eyes. “Sorry. I overstepped a line, didn’t I? I’ve had a bit of alcohol and… my tongue gets a little more lose when I do. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sooth with a gentle smile as you dig for your keys from your purse and head for your car, “It was a long time ago, so it’s not that painful anymore.” By your car, you stop, hand on the door. “He died a couple of months after Mia’s birth.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s face falls at this, and he licks his lips, unsure how to respond.

“Like I said,” you continue, “It was a long time ago. And even though I do miss him… I’m not sad about it anymore. He gave me Mia, and she’s the best part of my life.”

Even though you should be leaving, it feels wrong to part like this, so rather than standing in the frost you say, “Would you like to get into the car for a bit? Just to get out of the cold?”

He nods, and so you end up with him sitting in the passenger seat, body twisted towards you as you continue talking about your husband, reliving old memories with a wistful smile twinging your lips.

“That must be hard for Mia,” Taehyung says eventually, and you nod sadly.

“Yeah, she doesn’t remember him well, but she’s recently started noticing the absence. You know, just the other day, she said she wished she had a dad to come and watch her in the play.” The thought makes the smile wobble off your face, replace by pain, as you remember her innocent questions.

“I’ll come to see her in the play,” Taehyung offers, and then his cheeks flush and he begins rambling, “Well… I mean… ah, maybe this is the alcohol still in my system, and I’m definitely overstepping a line here… but Mia’s a good kid… and…” His hands go up to run over his face, pushing at his closed eyelids. “Ahhhh… what am I saying?”

“Taehyung,” you say gently, and he peeks at you past his fingers, “Mia would be delighted if I told her you’ll watch her in the play.”

He drops his hands and offers a cautious smile.

The conversation seems finished, but still you don’t want Taehyung to leave, and he makes no movement to do so. Absently, you fiddle with your hands, and feel the cold of the ring still on your finger.

“Oh, right…” You pull it off carefully, and hold it out to Taehyung, “I believe this is yours.”

He puts out his hand, and as you press the ring into his fingers his warmth seeps below your skin.

“Oh, and the blazer as well,” you murmur, the stillness in the car seeming to call for a lower voice. You slip off Taehyung’s blazer, catching one last breath of his cologne, as he leans closer and you throw it around his shoulders for him.

Even though it’s time to part, you can’t let go of the collar of the blazer, holding him close. You feel that if you let him go, the whole night will slip from your fingers, like the mist of a dream. Forgetting what it’s like to be held, to be felt, to be connected, what it’s like to be in love, you’ll return to a single-minded focus on Mia, living in love, only for her, with no time to love a man and no time to love yourself.

In the subdued moonlight Taehyung looks all the more ethereal, eyes dark and glossy, lips shining wet as he licks them, and you allow yourself one act of self-love, allow yourself one split second of happiness, just to satiate your own curiosity for what might have been. In the hold of the night’s murmurings, you lean in, just as Taehyung does, and close your lips to his own, locking against him. Your eyes shut instinctively, and all that’s left is his warmth on you, warmth around you, as his hands pull you an extra bit closer, trying to manoeuvre you awkwardly, so he can get as close as possible with the gear box in the way. Your arms snake up around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, and you melt away on this moment.

It’s all heat, all Taehyung, all you, all you’ve been wanting all evening.

At last, he slips out of your hold again, and you sit, short of breath, with him leaning, watching you from the other side of the car with a dopey smile on his lips.

“I should probably go now,” you remember, knowing it’s far too late, and Mia definitely needs to be in bed.

“Yeah,” he breathes. It takes him another second of staring at you, in awe, before he moves, opening the car door again, letting cold air to rush in and knock sense into both of you, drunk on each other’s touch.

“I’ll see you at the school play,” he says, and then jumps out, and with a wave and a boxy grin, he closed the door behind him, and heads across the car park, towards his own house.

You sit for a few seconds, holding your burning cheeks in your hands and trying to steady your heartbeat, knowing driving like this would be dangerous. You give yourself time to clear your head, before finally starting the engine.

♡♡♡

Mia’s still up when you arrive home, sitting in her pyjamas watching TV with the babysitter. The babysitter looks sheepish when you arrive. “I did try to get her to go to bed,” she explains, but you just hand her the rest of her money, and tell her it’s fine.

Your daughter spins around, and you can sense she’s hyper off sugar that the babysitter probably shouldn’t have fed her. “How was the date? How was the date?”

“Mouse... I told you...” you say, “It wasn’t a date!”

But even as you say this, memories rush back of all that happened this evening, and you realise there’s absolutely no fooling anyone. It was a date.

“You’re blushing! It was totally a date!”

You smile. “Alright, Mouse, maybe it was…”

As you shepherd her up the stairs you feel a vibration in your pocket, as your phone goes off. Reminding Mia to brush her teeth before she goes to bed, you watch her slump to the bathroom, complaining that she’s not ready to sleep. It takes a lot of coaxing, but you finally get her into her room with the lights switched off, and allow yourself to collapse into your own bed, still with a full face of make-up and your dress hugging your body.

You check your phone, and smile to see a message from Taehyung:

“Thanks for tonight. It was great. You did great. You were great…. Am I rambling? Haha! I’ll see you later anyways. Xoxo”

You smile involuntarily, roll over in bed, curling up in the duvet. You type your reply, “I’ll look forward to it xoxo”. This time the ‘x’s and ‘o’s are completely on purpose.

♡ END ♡

Author’s note: I’m sorry this is late! It wasn’t meant to be so long, but my brain got carried away, and it ended up taking longer than expected to write! I hope the wait was worth it!