#She's a little crazy but we love her for that

[doomedmoth]

War is Over

Pairing : Reader x Daniel Ricciardo x Max Verstappen | Poly fem!reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, polyamory, queer drivers, reader is around 30

Synopsis : You’re just a mechanic at RedBull, not much more to say. Nothing in your contract says you can’t be friends with drivers, right ? The little lines very clearly says you’re not allowed to show it all though. When your chosen “family” fails you, all you can do is hope your loved ones save themselves too.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi cryptids, honestly I have no excuses to give, sorry for the randomness of it all, I just needed to get this out to process with the pain of loosing Daniel. I can only hope he finds happiness away from the shit show that RedBull is becoming. Probably going back to hibernation, see ya !

[Messages] Dumber has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : How it started / how it’s going (swipe for my face when I’m not covered in grease). Hello to everyone new here, I’m Y/N, Chief Engine Power Conformity Mechanician at redbullracing ! Based in the never-sunny town of Milton Keynes, but you might see me around the paddock at most races to make sure no one explodes ✌🏻

Liked by redbullracing, F1mech and others

view all comments

F1mech little miss mini boss 🫡

yourusername be glad to have me around to do the dirty work

F1mech Yes ma’am very grateful ma’am 🫡

redbullracing Your work is so crucial and we are happy the world gets to know you more !

redbullracing Also it was sunny last we came to MK ???

yourusername nobody tell admin we take out the fake blue sky windows when he comes by

user1 lmao I live in Milton Keynes and can attest we haven’t seen the sun in weeeeks

user2 never wanted to be a redbull neon sign so bad

user3 I can see why they hide her in the shithole that is Milton Keynes, the whole paddock would go crazy over her

user4 she would make such a cute wag omg !!

user5 bet every girlie is on their man’s back whenever she’s around

user6 she works for RB soooo… d’you think her and checo…? 😳

user7 she already has someone guys !! Though we have never seen his face, but I think she’s more interested in the cars than the ones inside them

user6 checo is married and still it doesn’t stop him lmao

user8 are you part of the pit crew ?? Never seen you before ! /g

yourusername I’m not !! I mainly work on the cars before and after the races and practices to make sure everything is in place, not faulty, and compliant to both Redbull’s and the FIA’s standards of security 🤗 but 60/70% of my work is at the factory, and the paddock parts happens behind close doors, so no worries

maxverstappen1 she makes sure nobody dies

yourusername and god knows y’all make it hard sometimes

danielricciardo yeah this second pic is so much better

yourusername oh don’t start me boy

danielricciardo hihihi 🤭

user9 hello Daniel ???

user10 How can I work at Redbull too pls I beg you I’ll even make coffee and mop the floors

yourusername check our offers on the website honey !! Most jobs require some experience or diploma but we also offer internships and graduate programs if you want to make your way in

user10 thank u 🥹

user10 that’s how you got in ?

yourusername nope, I’ve worked on cars forever and in motorsports for years before getting to F1, but we have plenty of opportunities in non-technical fields too!

user11 pretty, kind, works in f1, not single, lemme just Google how to be like you

user12 you okay dude ? Throat not hurting too much from gagging on her dick

user13 lmaoooo yeah seeing her looks that’s probably a daddy’s girl who got put in exec and pretends to know what she’s talking about

user14 wouldn’t be shocked if her “work behind closed doors” is ordering actual mechs around like minions

danielricciardo is your little ego so hurt by the fact that you’ll never be talented enough to get to her place that you’ve resorted to running your shitty mouth online ? Breath getting stinky mate, careful 🤢

Liked by yourusername

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : Everything’s twice as fun with you

Liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1 and others

view all comments

user15 lover boy lover boy lover boy !

user16 I’m more excited for the face reveal than for my best friend’s wedding

user17 pls get checked wtf

user18 wait isn’t he blonde ? who’s the dark haired one in some pics ? With tattoos ?

user19 you might be new but Y/N always post pics of lover boy randomly, so some pics are old, and he often dyes his hair !

user18 wow damn I need his hairdresser coz this is cleaaaaan

yourbff don’t tell me you let him touch your car

yourusername lmaooo never 💀 tried to teach him to change some parts on his

yourbff and…?

yourusername ended up doing it…

yourbff at least he’s cute !!

yourusername Hey ! That must counts for something !

user20 not them bullying him coz he either doesn’t have socials or is not allowed to answer

yourbff what ? us ?

yourusername Never 😇

user21 oh damn she bagged herself a hottie

user22 HE bagged himself a hottie have you seen her ??

user23 couple goals and we ain’t ever seen his face like

user24 ain’t no need for a face with a body like this

user25 kinda looks like Max on the 6th slide no ??

user26 lmao as if

user27 the man can bag any celebrity doubt he cares for a factory girl

user28 the pic with the RB can lol

yourusername trained him well 😇

*****

[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted

*****

[Messages] Dumb has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] maxverstappen1 has added a story

user29 replied to the story :

oh yeah I keep forgetting y’all old money rich rich

user30 replied to the story :

so we all forgetting about Horner’s accusation ?? Truly just RB’s bitch in the end

user31 replied to the story :

Is that y/n ?? Didn’t know the mechs were invited to those events

danielricciardo replied to the story :

man I do take amazing pics when the models look so good

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : vitamin sea 🌊⛱️🐚 Australia, you never disappoint

Liked by oscarpiastri, daniel3.jpg and others

view all comments

oscarpiastri wish we could have hung out more 🥺

yourusername we hung out at your house bby!!

user32 BBY ?? SOMEONE CALL LILY COZ THIS BITCH IS OVERSTEPPING

oscarpiastri we didn’t hang out you repaired my mom’s car while Lily and I were drinking WARM BEERS ON THE FLOOR

yourusername SORRY YOU CAN’T APPRECIATE MY CRAFT LIKE YOUR MOTHER DOES also hi to lils 💕🌸🎀

oscarpiastri DON’T BRING MY MOM INTO THIS she said she misses u 🤗💕✨

user32 oh

yourusername yeah

oscarpiastri yeah

nicolepiastri yeah

yourbff you need to turn off work like for reeeaaaal

yourusername how can I when those two are literally glued to my hip

danielricciardo shocked sad disappointed

maxverstappen1 Lover boy will hear about this

yourusername Are those threats ? Remember I literally have power over your life

danielricciardo not mine anymore lol Lover boy WILL HEAR about this

user33 oh so that definitely erases the possibility of Max or Daniel being Lover Boy

user34 as if there had ever been any evidence of that

user35 Lover boy in the Redbull cap ??

yourusername Yep ! Max gave it to him

user35 daaaaamn he is ripped

yourusername hihi 🤭

user36 no one questioning why the fuck is a mechanician hanging so much with drivers ??

user37 *chief mechanician

F1mech oh shit buddy thank you, we weren’t aware we couldn’t be friends with people we spend more than half of the year on the road with

maxverstappen1 cancel your ticket rn mate, you can’t vacation with us

F1mech come on user36, see what you’ve done ?? Maybe if you hadn’t questioned it I could have gone, fucker

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user38 has replied to your story :

Not you posting this straight after the checo announcement 💀

yourbff has replied to your story :

just saw the news, is Danny ok ?? Pls call me

maxverstappen1 has replied to your story :

Booked you a table at San Marco at 8, sorry I can’t be there tonight…

it’s okay, I know how it is, I just don’t want him to be alone… thx for the restaurant 💕

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user39 has replied to your story :

omg same

user40 has replied to your story :

IS THAT DANIEL ???

user41 has replied to your story :

the tattoos ??? girl we knoooow

redbullracing has replied to your story :

y/n ?

yup yup yup sorry

This story has been deleted.

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user41 has replied to your story :

lmao miss thing is piiiissed

yukitsunoda0511 has replied to your story :

i can’t find my controller d’you have one more ? 🥺

yes bby just come before your food gets cold

user42 has replied to your story :

She supports Max’s rights but mostly Max’s wrongs

*****

[Twitter] F1mech just posted

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user43 has replied to your story :

preeeaach 🙌🏻

user44 has replied to your story :

all redbull employees protesting the FIA has me going !! Tell Horner to open his mouth too for once

danielricciardo has replied to your story :

I want this pic as my new lockscreen

*****

[Twitter] danyfanclub just posted

*****

[Instagram] danielricciardo just posted a photo

danielricciardo : l've loved this sport my whole life. It's wild and wonderful and been a journey. To the teams and individuals that have played their part, thank you. To the fans who love the sport sometimes more than me haha thank you. It'll always have its highs and lows but it's been fun and truth be told I wouldn't change it.

Until the next adventure.

Liked by redbullracing, yourusername and others

view all comments

redbullracing 🫶🏻

user45 SHUT UP

user46 the audacity

user47 you promised you would treat him better !!

user48 Daniel > Perez

user49 DTS fan

lewishamilton legend 🫂

user50 game recognize game

user51 tell Mercedes to give him a seat

maxverstappen1 Head up ! Many more beautiful moments to come, somewhere you’ll be recognized and appreciated 💪🏻 our time together isn’t over, but I’m glad for all the racing, the laughs, the nights, for you ❤️

user52 wow hm Max no need to make all of us cry

user53 I feel like I’ve just walked in on something very personal…

user54 maxiel 😭😭😭

user55 he was the best mate you ever had, never should have left RedBull

yourusername Working with you was an honor, but getting to know and appreciate you made my whole life brighter, and I can’t thank you enough for this 🌞 no contracts can bring us apart, see you around honey bee 💛

user56 the little dig at RB’s contracts lmao

user57 why does honey bee feel much more intimate than honey badger ??

user58 we haven’t seen this level of emotion for De Vries, yet you were already working for the “RedBull family” if I’m not mistaken ??

user59 maybe because no one gives two shits about De Vries ??

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : Well, there it is. After 15 years of working on cars, the last 10 in motorsports, last five in Formula 1, it’s time for me to take a break. It was just perfect to finish it off in my hometown Austin, and I’m so grateful to my friends and family who made the trip to celebrate together. I remember my first week at Milton Keynes, my whole life in a suitcase. Abu Dhabi 2021, and those stories we’ll keep for our old days. I was so proud to be part of this, the champagne, the fireworks, the love. The day Daniel came back to us. The people I’ve met, the opportunities I’ve had, none would have been possible without you, ‘Bull. It’s been oh so amazing, but oh so tiring. I’ve reached a point in my life where I need my environment to be aligned with what I want, my values and the people I love and care for. So it’s goodbye.

F1, thank you for everything. I’ll miss you, but I gotta go. 💙

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and others

view all comments

F1mech I solemnly swear to not make anything explode, to always triple check my laces, to never pick Yoshi in Mario Kart because it’s yours, and to forever keep you close to my heart. Thx mini boss, you were amazing 🫡

yourusername Thanks Callum, you’re gonna make me cry now…

user60 US TOO 😭

user61 naaaaah another one leaving RedBull, shit is really going down

user62 where do you think she’s going ? Aston ?

user63 or Ferrari

yourusername Sorry to disappoint but neither ! It’s really a full break, for a while at least, I need to get my head out of the oil and machinery

user64 leaving England then ?? What about lover boy ??

yourusername Lover boy was never British eheh, who told you that ? 🤭

user65 if Lover boy is confirmed to be Daniel I’ll loose my shit

user66 I will always root for Max though…

user67 he has tattoos omg it’s never been Max !!

redbullracing Now it’s pretty sure MK will never see the sun again with you gone 😭

user68 we still hate you

user69 fuck off

yukitsunoda0511 🥺🫶🏻

yourusername 😚🫴🏻💕

yourbff it’ll be hard, but it’ll be good

yourusername thankfully i won’t be alone

yourbff not long to wait

yourusername yeah, soon soon

user70 ???

user71 I have a headache just thinking about everything the soon soon could be about

user72 really doubt Max is staying much longer in RedBull seeing how many engineers are quitting

*****

[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user73 has replied to your story :

no yeah we get it this looks much better than the factory lmao

user74 has replied to your story :

Honey bee ?? I’ve heard that one before

oscarpiastri has replied to your story :

Mom said you haven’t gone to see her yet ! Meanie !

user75 has replied to your story :

crazy how Max starts winning again since you’re gone

*****

[Instagram] f1 just posted a photo

F1 : BREAKING : Max Verstappen has announced his retirement after winning his 4th World’s Drivers Championship.

Record breaker.

Late braker.

Legend.

#ThankYouMax

Liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and others

view all comments

user76 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user77 when I tell you I fell to my knees

user78 screaming crying throwing up

user79 I refuse to believe this is true

user80 what the hell was this season

user81 DTS is gonna have a field day with this one

user80 doubt 10 episodes are gonna be enough

redbullracing There aren’t enough words to describe the impact you’ve had on our history, Max. You’ll forever be a pillar of the RedBull family, and an icon of the sport. Tudududu 🧡

lewishamilton Thank you for the challenges, you’ve always pushed us to go harder. Never thought I would have to see you leave, but we’ll keep your legacy running 👑

user82 Alonso when ???

user83 Who’s gonna take his seat ? Honey badger comeback ?

user84 doubt it, he said in the only interview he gave that he had some friends to go see a few continents away, bet he was talking bout Danny

user85 April Fools ?

user86 In December ??

user87 I really don’t understand why, everything was going much better with the car lately

user88 I think he’s just done with the sport, he said multiple time he wouldn’t force it if he didn’t feel like it anymore

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user89 has replied to your story :

wait, if that’s lover boy, who’s the guy you were with lately ??

user90 has replied to your story :

Sydney airport !!

user91 has replied to your story :

OMG I KNEW I SAW MAX IN SYDNEY THIS MORNING WTF I RECOGNIZE HIM

yourbff has replied to your story :

you did it bby, it’s time to rest now

ily, we will 💕

user92 has replied to your story :

The timing with Max quitting RB is so odd I’m seriously questioning my sanity rn

*****

[Instagram] yourusername, danielricciardo and maxverstappen1 just posted a photo

yourusername, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 : War is Over.

Liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri and others

Comments on this post have been disabled.

*****

[Instagram] danielricciardo has added a story

The replies to this story have been disabled.

[Instagram] maxverstappen1 has added a story

The replies to this story have been disabled.

*****

[Instagram] danielricciardo just posted a photo

danielricciardo : From sneaking out of restaurants to barricading the doors of our shared hotel rooms, I wish I could have told the world earlier how much I love you. But I’m glad I can now. There’s something magical about finding the one, so when you find the two, you’ll make any radical change necessary to protect them. Think you were right Maxie, the farm life does suit us.

This was the Honey Badger, peace ✌🏻

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, yourusername, and others.

Comments on this post have been disabled.

[Instagram] maxverstappen1 just posted a photo

maxverstappen1 : Turning off comments coz those two are mine and you can only admire them from afar. I know they’re pretty. They’re mine. And I’ll say it as many times as I want now. Mine mine mine mine mine

Liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and others.

Comments on this post have been disabled.

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : Oh, I’m sorry, did I say Lover Boy ? I meant Boys 🤭

Liked by lilyzneimer, F1mech, and others.

Comments on this post have been restricted.

view all comments

user93 WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

user94 mother is finally letting us out of the cage and none of us can take it

user95 the first pic

user96 I could die

user97 who the fuck even took it

user98 she said “y’all won’t let me post their faces ? I’ll give you the whole sextape”

user99 I knew it I fucking knew it Maxiel nation we won

oscarpiastri so happy for you guys, go be free with the little goats 🥹

yourusername pls try to survive

maxverstappen1 and if RB tries to buy you RUN BACK HOME

user100 oh shit it’s time for no filter Max era

yourusername you’ve had a taste this year, be prepared for the real deal

yukitsunoda0511 finally i can stop pretending to not speak English when asked about you

danielricciardo you were pretending very well if I may say

yukitsunoda0511 thanks !

user101 oh yuki sweet summer child…

user102 don’t tell me in Japan already ??

yourusername you really took a good look at this pic and thought “yeah, those two are straight” ? It’s a you issue honestly

user102 yeah okay fair

user103 7th pic ???

maxverstappen1 Abu Dhabi ‘21

maxverstappen1 tasted better than champagne tbh

user104 oh so y’all are just leaking EVERYTHING now, no fucks given

danielricciardo I had to pay a lot for those pics to not get out back then so yeah kinda

danielricciardo which is a shame when we look so good

user105 sooooo… about the high performance athlete….?

maxverstappen1 yes.

yourusername yes.

danielricciardo 💕

*****

[Twitter] danyfanclub just posted

[feralferretxp]

I've been meaning to introduce one of my Storybots ocs that I've had for a while but here we go. Let me introduce you to...

Melissa Malware

She's a totally normal storybot who is definitely not a shapeshifting virus who has alterative motives for taking over the computer world! :D

Melissa is inspired by the Melissa and I LOVE YOU computer viruses, influencing both her name and theme of spreading love worldwide. In an alternate universe called the LoveBug AU, she launches a campaign called "Project I LOVE YOU", encouraging StoryBots to express love in various forms, aiming to boost mental well-being and promote world peace. She also advocates for self-care, which leads people to work less and less, eventually creating a job crisis in the computer world.

However, Melissa's true intent is to infect others, causing them to slack off from work, which in turn slows down real-world computers, much like a virus. As her followers idolize her, they unknowingly spread her influence, infecting others with the same behavior.

Melissa's origins lie in a more abstract form sent into the internet by her creator. Her mission was to oversee a planted computer worm and ensure its success without interference, remaining in the shadows. However, her plan was unexpectedly derailed when a young Bang, wandering in the internet department while accompanying his father, mistook the worm for a colorful gummy and ate it.

Enraged and shocked, Melissa's task was ruined, forcing her to shift focus and watch over Bang as he grew up, tracking the effects of the worm on him. Over the years, she observed his growing forgetfulness and other changes (I'll make a future post about this and my theory in more detail) as she remained in the shadows. During this time, Melissa herself evolved. Watching storybots and their society, she became curious about life beyond her virus role. She gradually changed her appearance to resemble a storybot and secretly longed for a life where she wasn’t bound to a pre-programmed destructive endgame.

As she grew fond of the attention and adoration from those who saw her as one of them rather than a virus, Melissa tried to prolong her influence and delay her inevitable mission of ruining the computer world, torn between fulfilling her creator’s purpose and finding belonging among storybot society.

When Bang becomes an adult and the computer worm fully integrates with his programming, Melissa is devastated to discover that the worm is now inseparable from Bang, and removing it would kill it. This ruins her original plan, forcing her to adapt. Instead of separating the worm, she decides to use Bang to spread the infection.

Melissa presents herself as a sweet, humble activist and invites Bang to join her "Project I LOVE YOU," using his recognizable and beloved status in the community to help promote her cause. Behind her friendly demeanor, however, Melissa despises Bang, seeing him as a foolish and undeserving figure who, for some reason, is adored by everyone. Despite her loathing, she plays the role of a supportive ally, manipulating him into unknowingly aiding her true goal, while he remains completely oblivious to her hatred and intentions.

So in a nutshell, Bang has no enemies... except for one which is Melissa because she hates his guts LMAO. But yeah that's the LoveBug AU basically. There's more to it but that's for another time.

One important thing about Melissa is that her and Milo (@supgoddo's oc) are in true real love and are perfect for each other YIPPIEE GRRR I LOVE THEM SM

Anyways that's it for now for Melissa! Just wanted to introduce her character and stuff. Live laugh love Melissa <3

[beanlot]

indecision

ellie wants you back, even though she ended the relationship.

wc: 2.1k (angst + smudge of fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“just get it over with, please.” she exhales jaggedly, smell of rubbing alcohol poisoning your nose as you apply pressure onto her wound. she’d been shot with an arrow, one you’d had to snap to pull out of her, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

she didn’t squirm, or whine when you bandaged her up. she sat still and took it, clenching onto the old and tattered leather seat.

you’d dated ellie for a shaky and indulgent two years before. your relationship at first was it - it was her looking at you when she’d done something clumsy or funny in hopes to see you laugh, it was holding each other tightly after you’d gotten separated, it was her lips kissing at your skin fruitfully. you remember it so clear.

“mm. baby.. baby..” you hear her voice, low and groggy. you’ve woken her up, shuffling around endlessly for half an hour trying to sleep. “baby.. shh. relax.. relax with me, you’re fine.” her hand settles on your hip, and she’d bring you in closer, tatted arm ravelling around your stomach. she was so gentle, so guiding, so protecting. “shh.. i’m here. i’m here, my love..”

ellie felt bad for ending it, it was necessary. there were times where she’d refuse to communicate, you would lose your temper, and start yelling at each other. you’ve grown hard around the edges over the years, your skin is scarred and tormented. it’s not your fault.

“fuck you, ellie!” you spat at her. truth is, your arguments brewed for a few weeks. it started with glares, sly comments and ignoring eachother until it erupted. “you can’t just fucking control me, control who i spea-“

“i’m not fucking controlling you! you’re batshit fucking crazy!”

the best thing to do was to break up, for both of your sakes. you were fine with it at first, you knew it was for the fucking best. you were starting to despise eachother’s company; you knew you’d get over it.

“you know what.. i think we should just.. stop.” ellie scoffs.

“stop what?”

“us. it’s not fucking working. i can’t stand you.”

but what you couldn’t get over was overhearing her speak with dina, flirty and sultry tones bouncing back and forth between them a week later. they’d slept together, not long after that breakup.

and here you are, a few months later, knelt in front of her to relieve her physical pain.

“thanks..” a quiet whisper left her as you shoved the materials back into your bag. you’re still on high alert, ellie says that you always are, it’s like walking on eggshells being in a room with you.

she watches as you keep your eyes on the windows, peering through the blinds, your pupils narrow like the scope of a sniper. she tries to lighten the mood, tries to relax you a little. “a year ago, you would’ve passed out.” she jokes, a breathy laugh leaving her. but you don’t laugh.

i think that’s also what ate away at ellie during the end of the relationship. you used to have fun, and live, and look forward to the next day. but you’re a different mind in the same shell she used to love, and part of her believes she’s accountable for not being there for you.

you hear her whisper, as you sink into the chair opposite her, your head leant back towards the ceiling. “you okay..?” her voice is cautious, but she knows what’s up, she’s not stupid.

“fine.” you state bluntly.

it’s silent.

“i’m sorry. for it.” you hear her. she’s darting her eyes around your body, the long scar under your jawline, the scratches on your wrist from trying to slice nettles out of the way. you try not to smile at her apology, because it’s pathetic. “it’s whatever.” you respond, your voice uninterested.

you feel sour thinking about it now, actually. you could’ve left her to those hunters, left her to infected, left her to bleed out and clean her wounds herself. “did you enjoy it?” you impulsively ask her, a saltiness to your tone that she was anticipating.

her stomach still drops though, and she can sense the eggshells cracking around her. “what?” she mutters, her eyes narrowing at you as you look at her. you used to look at her with delicacy, adoration, desire. but now your eyes are empty, glossed over; ellie could only describe it as you looking through people rather than actually looking at them.

“you know. sleeping with her that quickly, was she good? worth?”

it’s silent, and you’re both staring at eachother with challenging eyes of contempt. she gets it, understands your anger, yet she also can’t seem to wrap her head around your entitlement. “what are you sa-“

“scale of 1 to 10.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” ellie’s voice goes up a pitch. she wish she could stand up and grab your throat, try and knock some sense into you. but not only is the pain in her shin holding her back, it’s also the fact you’d hold up an ambiguous fight. “are you serious?” she leans forward in disbelief.

but when you don’t respond, your gaze unfaltering, she sighs.

“i don’t know.. like.. an eight, i guess..”

it was a rhetorical question, asshole.

you’re sure she answered it out of spite, and you feel internal rage. but you don’t let it show, you just nod with pursed lips. “i’m happy for you.” you state coldly. you wish you had the heart to just leave her here, take shimmer up north back to jackson, but you don’t.

it’s silent for a few minutes. she’s often glancing back at you, already regretting her answer. although it was a truthful answer, she should have kept her mouth shut. but the damage has already been done, she sees it honing on your face as you look elsewhere.

“i’m..” she starts, sighing. “i’m sorry.. that was fucked, it’s all fucked.” she shakes her head. you’d been forgiving and graceful enough to snap an arrow and pull it out her leg, bandage it up for her. and yet she sits here pulling at your heartstrings, even if you act as if it’s not affecting you under your stoic mask.

“can you come here…

please..?”

you look at her, and her eyes are brimmed with vulnerability. you stay in your seat for quite some time, until you muster up the patience to approach her.

she feels you dip into the space beside her. she wants to reach out, touch your skin, marshmallow you up how she used to. but she knows she can’t, she has no right. “you don’t have to forgive me.. i just..” she whispers. “i wanna say i fucked it all up, for us. i know i did..”

you digest her words, your eyes darting around the ceiling in contemplation.

“i just don’t..” she pauses, her eyes ponder down to her thighs, and then down to her bandage that you had wrapped. she’s trying to word her next sentence without it sounding so morbid, but she cant. “i don’t wanna lose you one day, knowing you hated me.” she murmurs, waiting for an inkling of emotion on your face - anything, she’ll take anything - but it doesn’t come.

she’s dreamt about it. having you in her arms, choking on your own blood, using your last efforts just to spit out a malicious i hate you.

“i thought the.. whatever with dina would’ve got rid of you.” ellie squeezes her nose bridge, trying to explain in a way that doesn’t sound so bullshit. she doesn’t want to say that she had sex with her, even though that’s what it was. “i fucked her over too.. she didn’t do anything wrong, but she was.. just there.”

wow, you really are a scummy piece of shit, els.

she knows what you’re thinking when she looks over at you, your eyes nailing into her. “i know..” she whispers, and you notice her hand slowly raising, hesitant to graze your own. you flinch when she does this, and she notices your hand inching away from hers. “i know it sounds bad. because it is, it’s my fault.”

she looks down at your hand, her eyes desperate, pupils dilated when they look at you. “please let me..” her voice is tender, affectionate with you. you’re invested in it slightly, letting her nails run along your palm, her touch a wintry feather tickling your skin.

“i just.. i’ll do anything. anything to make it up to you, no matter how long it takes.” she whispers, and you feel her touch leaving your hand. you feel like ice when it does, only to feel piping hot again when she cups your cheek. it’s intimate, but it’s genuine: it’s regret and sorrow, self-hatred and adoration. “i just want you to know, that i know i’m a fucking asshole, i still am..”

“you make me sick.” your voice is piercing and cold towards her. but she understands your rage, and she takes it, absorbing it with accountability. “i needed you. and you fucking left me.”

ellie’s gaze is weak. she’s thinking of your pain, of your scar-covered back and tormented bruises. the ones she couldn’t be there to kiss and treat. when you had came back from torrington after a few weeks’ travel, and she had heard from maria that you were ‘all kinds of fucked up’ and ‘in need of stitches’ under the jaw, she’d dissociated for hours in her room.

she could’ve been there, could’ve helped stop the bleeding, could’ve killed the bastards who had done it to you. prevented it in the first place. you were always there for every tear that dropped from her pretty eyes, every injury, every nightmare. and yet you did it all alone.

“i know.. i know.” she whispers, and you close your eyes when you feel her forehead press against yours. it’s not romantic, it’s just impulse. she wants to just feel close with you again, absorb your warmth, feel the safe haven she neglected and left to rot. “i’ll do anything. you have no idea. anything, i’m begging you.”

you can feel her breath, she’s so close to you, so hurt. she knows she has so many - too many - amendments to make for you.

“i almost died yesterday.”

her whisper is faint, and her eyes are focused on everything, yet nothing at the same time. glossed over in daydream, inanimate and empty. “we were.. i don’t know, going down the southeast, by those cabins..” she tries to recall, memories blurred with the overwhelming poison of your ill feelings towards her. “this guy.. i was just on the floor suddenly, and he’s coming down at me with an axe.

and if it wasn’t for jesse, i would’ve..” she continued, pausing before her eyes glint. “but in my last fucking moments, all i could see was your face. and i just.. i didn’t feel fear, i just.. felt so much regret. and, love. and worry about what would happen to you after.”

her words were reluctant at first, but came streamlining out of her mouth when she’s reminded of each emotion that came with having her back against the mud, life flashing between her eyes, the split-second images of your pretty face next to the fireplace. the way you called her name, ellie, so vanilla. so clean. so smooth.

“i felt like.. i just should’ve told you everything, talked it out. i don’t want you to feel bad for me. i’m just.. i am begging you..” she repeats, a faint and delicate whisper against your lips. “if you want me to disappear, i’ll go. i’ll never bother you, you’ll never see me again in that fucking town..”

something about that proposal doesn’t sit right with your heart, or your head. you can’t tell. a part of you wants to slap the shit out of her, and another part wants to kiss at those lips - not out of love, but out of hateful lust.

“but please.. give me a chance to fix it.”

you sluggishly and reluctantly pull away from her, and watch as her gaze softens into disappointment. “i should.. go check on shimmer.” you whisper, rising to your feet, emotionally warped. “you just.. sit here and rest..”

as you start walking backwards and turn away from her, you can just hear all the emotions inside screeching in your head. it’s loud, blinding, deafening; you know ellie experiences it too, the same voices that just get too much. maybe that’s what dina was to her, white noise to dilute them.

she wants to chase you back, grab your wrist and talk it out. but the throbbing tremors from her wounded leg force her to slump back down into the chair with a defeated sigh. she lets you go, just this time, not willingly.

[moosesarecute]

Missing mates

Rhys couldn’t breathe.

He felt completely lost in his world. Because he had lost his world.

Or, he hadn’t lost her completely, but at the moment he didn’t know when he would get his High Lady home and the wait felt like forever.

With Feyre in the Spring Court, Rhys could vomit at the thought, he didn’t feel like himself.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep and he felt like he couldn’t breathe either.

To think that his mate was in a different court. To think that she didn’t think highly enough of herself to think that she was a part of their family. That she could sacrifice herself to go back to a place she withered away.

He almost cried at the thought alone. Ignoring the primal urge to go to the Spring Court and bring her home got harder for every minute that went by.

He stood in their shared room and watched the bed. How was he going to sleep in it without Feyre?

A careful knock on the door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Knock, break, knock knock, break, knock.

Not even his sister’s childish knocks could make him smile.

His sister.

Rhys rushed to the door and opened it.

“Is he awake?” He asked immediately.

“You actually think I would have left his side if he was awake?” You asked sounding annoyed.

The exhaustion was visible on your body. Both in your posture and the bags under your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you continued. “I’m exhausted, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Rhys opened the door wider and you walked in. He sat down on the bed and you sat in a chair.

“How are you holding up?” He asked you.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you leaned back into the chair. Your eyes were closed.

“I feel empty and lost,” you answered honestly. “The usual when the bond is quiet. You?”

“I’m okay,” Rhys lied. He didn’t want to put his emotions on you when you already looked so exhausted.

You opened your left eye and gave him a knowing look before you closed it again.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Rhys changed his answer and let out an exhausted laugh. “How do you do this? Azriel is on a mission like every other day.”

You sat up and opened both your eyes this time.

“You get used to it in a way. It gets less overwhelming after a few years.”

“Years!? I thought it only lasted a few weeks before it started to get less intense.” Rhys was actually shocked.

You smiled as you thought back at the first years being mated to Azriel. Even though it was overwhelming and sometimes also annoying, you loved to think back to the time when you two were clinging together at every time. At the time when being even a room away from each other made you feel like dying.

“It gets a little better after the Frenzy, but after that you have to build up endurance to be away from each other for longer periods without the instincts taking over. I don’t know how to explain it, it just works.” You were deep in your own thoughts as you spoke. Your eyes were focused on the wall behind Rhys.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t grow crazy. You hate it when Azriel is protective.”

His words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Firstly, I don’t mind Azriel being protective, but after accepting the mating bond it was way too much. Secondly, I wouldn’t call walking around and spraying my mate with a bottle of water ‘not going crazy’.”

It sprung upon him. He hadn’t smiled in over three days and suddenly he was laughing.

And with his laugh, you also started laughing.

It was hysterical. Tears ran from your eyes from laughing to much.

“I had forgotten about that,” Rhys said in between laughs. “You are crazy.”

When the laughter died down you both went back to your tired stares.

“Have you slept yet?”

The way you spoke made him understand that you already knew the answer.

His gaze turned to the bed he sat on and you spoke again before he could say anything.

“Sleepover in the living room?”

“We must have been under sixty the last time we did this just the two of us,” you said as you laid down. “Feels like forever ago.”

“Because it was.”

You laid in comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something, little one?”

“Of course, Rhysie.”

You turned towards him. He drew a nervous breath.

“You spent fifty years apart and I can’t even do three days without absolutely losing it. What am I going to do?”

He felt like his life had stopped. That he couldn’t move on.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Azriel and I had been mated for over 400 years when we ended up under the Mountain. You two have barely been mated for two weeks. You could still be ravishing each other in the Frenzy right now and no one would bat an eye. You’ll be just fine!”

He listened to the words you said, but he still couldn’t understand a way forward.

“But how do you to that? How do you live through this?”

It wasn’t like him to be this self conscious, but nothing in his mind felt right.

“You don’t live through it,” you started. He could see on your face that he had brought up uncomfortable memories. “You do what you need to do to survive it. Sometimes that might be to pretend you’re someone else and that there isn’t anyone to miss. Other times that means you’re struggling to get out of bed, even to go to the bathroom, because everything seems pointless without him. Sometimes you just have to cry and scream and other times you have to sit in the quiet.”

The more you spoke the more distant he could see you become. You were lost in your thoughts.

He carefully moved his hand and nudged yours carefully.

You looked towards him.

“The point is, you just have to do what gives you the courage to get to the next day. The rest of us will help you through it. And when all of this is over, you two are going to take at least a month to yourself. You have deserved it.”

He could do that. One day at the time. One day. And even though currently a day lasted longer than a month usually would, he could do it.

“Thank you.”

“Believe it or not, being mates for centuries have actually taught me something,” you said with a smug smile.

“Maybe I should start listening more to my little sister.”

You both turn to look at each other.

“Nah,” both of you said.

Rhysand was alone in the living room when he woke. The ache in his heart was a little smaller than the past days.

Seeing your mattress empty beside him gave him hope.

He got up and immediately made his way to his sister’s old bedroom. The room Azriel was currently healing in.

The door was open and as he peeked inside he saw what he needed to see.

Azriel sat up in bed with a cup of tea in his left hand, his right was occupied brushing through your hair.

“How long have you been awake?” Rhys asked his brother.

“A couple of hours,” he answered silently, not looking away from you. “She hasn’t slept much, has she?”

“I’d say about three hours the past three days,” Rhys answered. “It’s good to see you alive and awake.”

“You too,” Azriel answered.

Rhysand made his way back to his and Feyre’s room. Suddenly, life seemed easier. He felt hopeful for a good ending. And he was very much looking forwards to holding Feyre as she slept on his chest.

[luvzshy]

Could you do Billie talking about reader in the yearly interview

A/n: I did 5 years of relationship, I'm crazy about lasting relationships sorry😭🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️ anyway enjoy ml 💕💕✨

Journey of Love

Year 1:

Billie sat in her usual chair, surrounded by the soft glow of the set lights that felt both familiar and intimidating. The Vanity Fair interview had become an annual ritual, a chance to reflect on her journey as an artist and a person. But this year, there was a flutter of nerves deep in her stomach.

When the interviewer leaned in with the first personal question, Billie’s heart raced. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Her instinct was to deflect, to keep her private life close to her chest, but instead, she felt a warmth spread across her face. “Yeah,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I am.”

The interviewer’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Anyone special?”

Billie’s smile deepened. “She’s incredible. Not in the industry. She helps me feel… normal.” The truth of those words hung in the air. You were the calm in her storm, someone who didn’t care about the fame, someone who simply loved her for who she was.

In the quiet moments, Billie found solace in your laughter and your gentle teasing, the way you’d roll your eyes when she tried to show you the latest music video she’d shot. You brought her back to reality, reminding her that beneath the glitz and glam, she was still just Billie—flawed, messy, and utterly human.

Year 2:

Fast forward to a year later, and Billie settled into her chair with a sense of ease. The nerves were still there, but they were accompanied by a confidence she hadn’t had before. It was as if being with you had given her the strength to embrace both her vulnerability and her power.

“Last year, you mentioned being in a relationship. How’s that going?” the interviewer asked, a knowing smile on their face.

Billie leaned forward, her excitement bubbling over. “It’s going really well. We’ve been together for over a year now.” The words felt like a promise, a declaration of her love.

“It’s been… transformative. She gets me in a way that no one else does. We balance each other out.” Billie’s voice softened as she thought of you—the way you listened without judgment, the way your fingers entwined with hers felt like home.

The memories flooded her mind: lazy Sundays spent wrapped in each other’s arms, your gentle touch as you brushed your fingers through her hair while you both watched the rain fall outside. In those moments, she could forget about the world and simply exist.

“She’s my best friend,” Billie added, her smile widening. “We support each other through everything. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Year 3:

A year later, Billie felt like she was living a dream. Three years together felt like a significant milestone, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. As she settled into the familiar chair, she could sense the anticipation in the air.

“So, Billie, how is your relationship evolving?” the interviewer prompted.

Billie couldn’t hide her grin. “We’ve grown so much together. It’s like… every day brings us closer. She’s been my rock, especially during some tough times.” Her heart swelled with gratitude for you.

Billie reflected on the challenges she faced in her career—the pressures, the expectations—and how you had been there through it all. When the world felt heavy, you’d remind her to breathe, to take a step back and enjoy the little moments. Whether it was cooking dinner together or simply sitting in silence, your presence was grounding.

“She makes me laugh like no one else,” Billie continued, her eyes lighting up. “We can be completely silly together, and it just feels… right. It’s like we have our own little world.”

Year 4:

By the fourth year, Billie was no longer shy about discussing her love life. Sitting across from the interviewer, she felt an undeniable sense of peace.

“You’ve been together for four years now. How has that changed you?” they asked.

Billie took a deep breath, her heart fluttering as she thought of you. “It’s changed everything,” she admitted. “I’ve learned so much about love, commitment, and what it means to truly support someone.”

She recalled nights spent talking until dawn, sharing dreams and fears, and how those conversations had strengthened their bond. You understood her in a way that made her feel seen and valued. In your eyes, she wasn’t just an artist; she was Billie—the girl who loved music, who adored quiet evenings, and who could get lost in a good book.

“We’ve talked about the future,” Billie said, her voice softening. “I think we both want the same things. It’s exciting.” The thought of building a life with you filled her with joy.

Year 5:

Now, as she sat in the chair for the fifth year, Billie felt a deep sense of contentment. The world around her continued to spin wildly, but with you by her side, everything felt manageable.

The interviewer leaned in, their expression curious. “After five years together, what’s your biggest takeaway?”

Billie smiled, her heart swelling with love. “She’s my person. I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s been there through everything, and we’ve built something real, something lasting.”

Her mind raced through the memories: lazy mornings wrapped in blankets, deep conversations about life, and quiet nights filled with laughter. You were the one who saw her—who loved her flaws and all. You made her feel safe in a way she had never known before.

“She inspires me every day,” Billie continued, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Being with her makes me want to be better—not just as an artist, but as a person. I’m so grateful for her.”

As the interview wrapped up, Billie felt a rush of gratitude wash over her. You were more than just a girlfriend; you were her partner, her confidante, and the love of her life. In a world that often felt chaotic and overwhelming, you were her anchor.

And as she walked off set, Billie couldn’t wait to tell you about the day, about how much you meant to her, and how every moment spent with you felt like magic.

[chrissv4mp]

AND TELL ME WE WEREN'T JUST FRIENDS

THIS DOESN'T MAKE MUCH SENSE...

"Friends." — "Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear."

The cool air of night felt burning on your skin, the anger you held spilling over the brim. You couldn't believe you were having this conversation with Billie right now. You swear you saw things clearly. You know you read the signs correctly.

"Friends, that's all we are, Y/N." She breathes, never even sparing you a glance as she shifts her weight onto one foot and then the other. She couldn't bear looking at you, "Jus' wanted to clarify since—"

"Since it got a little too far and you said you loved me?" You scoff, squeezing your hands into fists and then releasing them. Every word that came out of her mouth since you got outside made you even angrier, "Yeah, okay, whatever you say."

Billie parts her lips to speak, but all that comes out is a small squeak of sadness or maybe anger? You couldn't even pinpoint it anymore. You didn't even know her. She felt like a completely different person. Like a stranger.

You barely knew the person you stood just a few feet away from. And, sure, you should've known when this whole "friends with benefits" situation began, but it just hit you hard each time she reminded you of it.

She's reminded you of your boundaries countless times before. Neither of you knew why you lashed out this time. Maybe you did. Maybe you were just tired. You were tired of not being able to kiss her publicly. You were tired of only being able to hold her hand behind closed doors. You were so fucking tired of not being able to call her yours.

"Stop—Fuck—Just stop, Y/N." She groans, inhaling sharply as she runs a hand through her hair. It was just as stressful for her as it was for you, but you didn't know that. You didn't know a lot of things about her.

Her eyes meet yours for a split second, but she just can't do it. She can't look at you and speak because if she does, she knows she'll spill her true feelings. And she can't do that. She can't. She can't. She can't.

"Stop what? You're acting like I'm crazy, Billie!" You all but yell, eyes wild and hair blowing in your face from the windy night. It feels like a scene from a movie. You wished it was because there would've been a happy ending.

"Because you are!" She yells, her eyes snapping to yours quicker than you can even process. You let out a short breath as she speaks, tears brimming in her eyes, "You are fucking insane thinking, for even a second, that I ever had actual interest in you!"

Push her away.

Push her so fucking far away she won't ever come back.

"God, you're crazy, Y/N!" She scoffs, a fake smile on her face as she tilts her head, "Haven't you seen the signs?" But the signs weren't of hatred. They were signs of actual love. She was contradicting herself just to push you away.

She had to push you away. She wasn't good for you. Her reputation was too much. She didn't want to hurt you. You'd leave her in the end, anyway. It was better she hurt you than millions of people on the internet. Right?

"Friends." She states, her voice shaky despite her efforts to stay strong, "Is that clear?" Her eyes move away from you again, and your heart breaks just that little bit more.

Tears streak down your cheeks as you sniffle. You just wanted the floor to open and swallow you whole. Embarrassment, sadness, anger—God—Every emotion ran through you. What were you supposed to say?

"Crystal clear." You utter, voice small and weak. Your knees felt like they would give out any second now, the ache in your chest hurting more than it should've.

It felt like the entire world was watching the situation unfold, but in reality, it was only Billie. But what was the difference, really? She was your entire world. She was. Was.

@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie

[undisclosedproxy]

Possessive, obsessive, aggressive T.R T.N M.R

Summary: A movie night where secrets get revealed with Y/N and the boys.

Popcorn flying through the air, laughter filling the homely manor and the television playing a long forgotten movie. This is how good life ha been living with the boys. Y/N was currently sitting on the warm carpeted floor in between Theodores legs, Tom was sitting to the right of them, comfortable on his own seperate arm chair and Mattheo to the left of them, taking up most of the couch sitting in the most annoying way so that he was touching both Theodore and Y/N.

”You should have heard her screaming Y/N�� Mattheo laughed loudly basically wheezing at this point, ready to pee himself from laughter.

”Okay it’s not that funny. All we did was hook up and then she woke me up screaming, she was supposed to leave already.” Theodore said shooting a fake glare in Mattheos direction with his icy blue eyes. He continued to sloppily try to braid Y/Ns piece of long brown silky hair.

”You’re right. It wasn’t funny it was obnoxious. Actually it was downright absurd, only the lowest of the low human beings with that level of IQ-“ Tom started going on a very angry rant, most of the time everyone doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he has these moments of his temper betraying him.

”Come on tom, calm down a little bit?” Y/N asked with furrowed brows and a slight pout. She didn’t mind when Mattheo and Theodore start their friendly banter but sometimes Tom just doesn’t get the hint, or pick up on social settings vibes.

Tom huffed and looked away, he didn’t want to admit it but he cares about what she thinks. They all know it too.

”You pricks are both so fucking in love with Y/N, at this point it’s disgusting.” Mattheo chuckled loudly as he continued to throw popcorn at Tom. Mattheo draped a foot over Y/Ns head. She shot him a glare and smacked his foot with her free hand, the other trying to help Theodore braid her hair.

”Do not start.” Tom warned him with a harsh look as Tom continued to put the popcorn Mattheo keeps throwing at him in a trash bag.

”Oh, do not act like you weren’t going absolute crazy when she brought a guy home.” Theodore yelled extremely loudly for no reason which was so random. Y/N looked up at Mattheo with a confused look, then back up at Theodore who was fiddling with her hair trying to detangle the matt he had made.

”No i didn’t!” Mattheo screamed back obviously lying. He was trying to cover for himself in front of Y/N.

”You dickheads did too!” Mattheo yelled pointing at Tom and Theo. As he jumped up, the popcorn falling onto the floor, the popcorn kennels already in the expensive carpet. Tom groaned loudly obviously already knowing he is going to be the one cleaning that up.

“Well. We did not hex him.” Theodore said sassily as he crossed his arms with a huff, giving up on trying to untangle the braid.

”Yes.” Tom said dryly agreeing with Theodore.

”IT WAS LITERALLY YOU WHO HEXED HIM!” Mattheo screamed at Tom, Mattheo was met with Tom staring at him blankly.

”oh.” Tom said nonchalantly,

Everyone stared at him with a concerned look on their faces.

”Is this why no boys ever come back over after the first date?” Y/N asked with a dumb founded look on her face.

”Yes.” The boys all answered in the same nonchalant tone and all at the same time.

”You guys sound like a cult, i’m leaving.” Y/N said as she gets up off the carpeted floor from in between Theodores legs. She walks up the stairs while flipping them off as they stared at her blankly.

”Her ass is so fat.” Mattheo said while so obviously staring. He was met with eye rolling from Theodore, but obviously he was staring too because he had to re arrange his pants, and Tom just looking at him with a disgusted look as he grabbed a pillow and put it over his crotch as he huffed once again.

[patrywoso]

19. Ana-Maria Crnogorčević

+18 smut

Warnings: BDSM. Anal Sex. Strap-Ons. Rough Sex. D/s. Fisting Consent Play. Rope Bondage

As always thanks to @ljs-woso-vibez fro being the best proofreader and amazing person out there

It had been a very good date, all things considered. You laid a kiss on Ana’s cheek, which was enough to get her to blush. “You deserve a very special present after this,” you whispered into her ear, letting your tongue flicker out to tease Ana’s earlobe.

“Oh really? Uh, well, that’s good. Because I kind of, might have something planned.” Ana confessed, hoping it wouldn’t spoil the moment. This night had been amazingly romantic and sweet so far, and what she had planned, well, it wasn’t sweet. But if she’d been reading you right so far, and she sincerely hoped she had, this may go over better than she’d wished.

You cocked your head, green eyes twinkling. “You have something planned? Should I be worried?”

“Kinda yeah.” Ana grinned at you. “Remember when we were in the boat the other day….”

You sucked in a breath and it was your turn to blush. Your hand tightened on Ana’s arm. “You said you were going to tie me up for all the teasing.”

“Yup.”

“So am I to assume your little surprise has something to do with ropes?”

“Oh yeah.” Ana shot you her best cocky grin, and leaned in to nuzzle against your perfumed neck, lifting the tendrils of hair there to see the tiny little goosebumps forming at her touch. “You really have it coming, and you know that.”

A shiver passed through you, and you bit your lip when you looked back at Ana, eyes widening. “You know, you did get to…” you dropped your voice as you both strolled past a group of joyously screaming children. “…fuck me with a metal dildo, so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Ana smirked. “I just so happen to think you might want this as much as I do.”

The blush that started in your chest and flushed to the tops of your breasts and upper shoulders was a lovely confirmation, all in all. You looked at Ana with eyes that suddenly were not teasing, not flashing with aggression or confidence, but open, dark, and full of desire. Ana had actually never seen you look this way at anything before. Like you were afraid, which was totally unusual for you. But that you also wanted the thing you were afraid of, and wanted it so badly, so desperately, that it left you vulnerable like this. Ana was struck almost blind by waves of lust and, if she was honest with herself, a little thrill of fear as well. She’d never done this (except in her mind after the ‘research’ she’d done and in near constant mental images ever since). You hadn’t ever done this, and it was kind of crazy, what she was planning. But seeing the way you liked the idea of it….Well, that just made her mind up. 

“I think,” Ana purred, leaning in to make sure her words raised the delicate curling hairs on the back of your neck. “I think under that femme fatale façade is a whimpering, writhing little plaything just waiting to be shown who’s boss. You agree?”

Plum-colored lips captured Ana’s in a move so quick it caught her breath, and you were tugging her insistently between two popcorn stalls. Into the dark of the night, so you could press against Ana’s lean frame and moan into her mouth. Ana was kissing you back, hard, gripping the back of your neck and aggressively roaming your body with a greedy hand, pinching your nipples through the dress and dipping to rake it up a smooth thigh. Ana buried her face in the perfumed dip of your shoulder, inhaling your scent, which always drove Ana into a state of sheer frenzy. Especially the scent of your arousal, which was definitely starting to make its presence known.

“Ana,” you panted. “Not…not here…we have to…“ you both kissed, again. “-fffuck, we have to get back to the…“ You were trying to say apartment but Ana was not going to let you. 

“You’ve never had a problem with being public before.” Ana taunted, deliberately sliding a hand higher while you held her wrist, ostensibly to stop her but it was more of a token gesture, judging by your heavy breathing and twitching thighs. “Not in the club bathroom in Barcelona, or in the Jeep, or in the plane, or that time at your pool when Irene and Mariona were just about to come back with food, and you told me to scream loud enough that they would hear.” Ana chuckled, low and throaty.

“Yes…but... but I want to do the thing you’ve been planning!” you wailed, almost frustrated enough to stamp your feet, and it only made Ana laugh more. She was enjoying this, the power, the dominance, feeling like she was the one making you frustrated instead of the other way around. 

“Temper, temper,” Ana admonished, digging her nails into that slim column of the neck, just a bit. Just enough to make you wide-eyed again. “Better control yourself, or I’ll have to punish you.”

You whirled and practically dragged Ana out into the main thoroughfare again, moving toward the car with single-minded determination. You slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a hearty roar, and looked at Ana over one shoulder. “Come on.” Ana grinned and vaulted over the car door, sliding into the passenger side. “Let’s go.”

Ana finished up the last of the knots that made the dragonfly sleeve binding. Your arms behind your back and together at the wrists. The rope was made out of a soft, cotton-like material, and dyed fire red, which stood out against the glowing, moon like pale of your skin. Ana had already completed a simple chest harness: just outlining and defining, not constricting. Circling your thighs was a simple garter harness, leaving your most vulnerable parts defined and held open by a ‘v’ of red rope. Situated right above the base of your spine was a double knotted bow, each ‘ribbon’ end trailing against your inner thighs. You were almost silent except for your breathing. You hadn’t said anything since Ana had started on your arms a few minutes ago, while you knelt, facing the bed.

“Are you doing okay?” Ana asked, gently. She hadn’t officially started yet and wanted to give you plenty of time to back out.

“Yes.” Came the immediate half-whispered answer. You seemed like you were going into a trance as more and more knots were completed across your body. Your head hung low, your hair piled up in a messy bun. 

“Okay, so here’s what’s gonna happen.” Ana took a deep breath. “I’m going to touch you, and fuck you, exactly how I want, for as long as I want.” your eyes flared and parted your lips slightly as Ana continued. “You can say ‘stop’, you can say ‘no’, and you can talk back, but I don’t have to listen…unless you say one specific word.”

“Which is?” you wet your lips.

“ ‘Red’. So if I scare you, if it hurts, or you want it to stop….say ‘Red’, and it’s over.” Ana ran the edge of her hand down your face, tenderly, which you nuzzled into, and that sweetness almost broke Ana’s resolve. But no, this was her time to show you that she was capable of being worth your trust and worthy of your absolute surrender. Ana stroked her thumb over your mouth, tracing the line of your beautiful pout until her thumb was smeared in purple-red. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You stretched your arms back, testing the bonds. You were still wearing heels from the date and you flexed them. Your legs weren’t tied, but Ana had reserved a coil of red rope to one side, and she looked at you now, appraising whether she’d need it.

“Do I need to tie your legs or will you behave?” Ana asked.

“That depends,” you purred, wiggling your bottom. “Are you going to make me behave?”

“If I have to make you,” Ana warned. “It’s going to hurt. Now, are you going to behave?”

“Yes,” You responded, your voice higher and breathier than normal. You flexed your legs again, and, as your thighs parted, Ana could see the tell-tale flush and a tiny trickle of wetness. 

“Good girl,” Ana praised, and she was in turn rewarded by the softening of your eyes and mouth. “Now bend over, you still need to be punished for what you did on the boat the other day.”

You swallowed audibly. “But Ana…” you whined, but you hurried to comply with Ana’s demand, presenting yourself as you pressed your face to the carpet. 

A slap landed on your upraised bottom, bringing color to the pale flesh. You raised your head and moaned, and Ana could see a shiny glistening appear between your thighs, more obvious this time.

“You like that.” It wasn’t a question. Ana could feel a growl creep into her voice, and she reveled in her newfound power to make you quiver under her commands. She gave you another slap and another. Handprints appeared in a pink flush across the porcelain of your pale, perfectly heart-shaped ass. The sight was addictively arousing. Ana added a few more, and landed one right in the crest of your thigh, earning a raspy moan. Ana kneaded the prints, massaging and also inflaming the sore, reddened flesh. She let her fingers tease along the edge of your wet, pouting little sex, not giving into your insistent wiggles.

“Yes!” you finally panted, nearly screaming. “Yes, I love it when you spank me, Ana!”

Ana landed a stinging blow against the side of your thigh and you yelped, falling forward. “Call me Mistress.” Ana husked and pulled the black mass of hair back so that you could hear.

“Yes, Mistress.” you were breathing heavily and your mascara had smeared with your tears, but you were clearly aroused, from the darkening of your pupils. Your hands flexed in the bonds, but you made no move to try and struggle free. Ana grunted and picked you up by the shoulders, roughly forcing you onto the bed, legs bent over the side, face in the mattress. Ana slid a pillow under your slim midsection, allowing you space to breathe, and propped your voluptuous hips up with a second pillow.

This gave Ana a fantastic view: your legs were parted, and your swollen, weeping sex pouted from between your legs, almost as red as your ass. Your flushed pink rear cheeks looked so delectable that Ana couldn’t resist taking a small nip, drawing a cry from you. She savored it, smiling into the flesh she’d covered with her handprints, and forced herself to withdraw, searching the bag she’d brought for her other surprise. She fished the strap out of the bag, and pulled its harness over her hips. She fumbled around in the bag until she found the small jar of lubricant, and applied it generously to the girthy length.

You could only imagine what was happening until you felt the firm press against your thigh and you gasped. “Oh, An- I mean, M-mistress, is that what I think it is?”

“Yep.” Ana dragged the fat head through the open, wet folds, eliciting a drawn-out moan. “My strap. And I’m gonna fuck you with it. However I want.”

This brought out a delighted gasp and your hips bucked back at her, trying to fit the toy in before Ana was ready. Ana slapped your ass again, and this did nothing to cool your ardor; only sending you into a cacophony of moaning. Growling, Ana pinned you down with one hand on your hip, and the other aligned the strap with your slippery, twitching little pussy. Ana sank the tip in with one low, rolling thrust of her hips and your body lifted half off the bed as you cried out.

Ana watched appreciatively as the broadest part of the head pushed inside your clinging walls. The other end of the toy moved inside of you, grinding against her own center, and she couldn’t help the groan, and the next few inches slipped inside as she moved her hips instinctively. You were perfect around her, gloriously tight and wet as anything and then she was too focused on pushing forward, getting deeper. Her brain had hollowed itself out to its most primitive core. She grabbed hold of the knotted bow at your lower back with both hands and began a series of short, sharp thrusts.

“Ohhhh!” you yelped. You arched your back to get more of the toy inside you, fingers wiggling desperately in the bonds.

“You like how I fuck you?” Ana taunted, burying herself deeper. The bow’s smooth knotted surface tightened under her hands as the ropes moved with the actions.

“Yessss-!” you keened, your inner muscles gripping around the shaft as it pumped into you. “I ...love how you fuck me Anaaaa!”

Another slap on your upraised cheeks, making you jerk. “Use my proper form of address, slut.”

You let out an unhinged moan at the slur, and your body convulsed, trickling out onto Ana’s thighs and belly. Ana laughed above her bound prize, feeling exuberant. “Oh, you like it when I talk dirty, huh? Who knew you liked being treated like my little fuck toy?”

Another rush of slickness and a high-pitched moan. You seemed to be thoroughly enjoying not only the rough treatment but the degrading words as well; which in turn made Ana’s lust only rise higher. She couldn’t stop herself from pounding into the quivering, whimpering pale flesh below her, gripping reddened ass cheeks as handholds. The strap was practically gliding in and out, and each time it brushed your tenderly swollen front wall, another helpless whine would follow, and this was intoxicating beyond words. Ana was in heaven. There was a sweet, musky scent in her nose and it felt like summer rain, and her emotions were a crazy roil of love, lust, dominance, and utter submission to this feeling. She was overcome and felt driven to take you in any way she could….which reminded her of the original intent for this whole night.

Pulling out was almost impossible, given her frenzied state, but she somehow managed. You let out a desperate whine and tried to wiggle your hips back. “Nooo, don’t stop! I was gonna..“

Ana whacked you with the loose ribbon end of the rope, smacking across your thigh and leaving a small welt. You jerked upwards, crying out, and Ana stabilized you with her firm hand on the knotted bow at your back, keeping you in place. “I know,” she snarled, her other hand searching behind her for the lube. “I don’t care. You can come when I’m ready for you to come and not a fucking minute sooner.”

Opening the jar one-handed was a challenge, but Ana couldn’t make herself let go of the knotted bow, or from driving her strap through your slick folds, making you whimper mindlessly, bucking back to be filled. She didn’t give in, instead, finally managing to get the lid off, she plunged her spare fingers into the lube, coating them in what was likely an excessive amount, but given the size of her strap, she figured it was better safe than sorry. Bringing her fingers up, she grinned as she once again considered the lovely, writhing form in front of her. Your pert, rounded rear was flushed with handprints and streaked in your combined arousal, and it only made the sight more compulsively desirable.

At first, probably due to your sex-addled brain and the copious lubrication, you didn’t react when Ana started circling the tight little rosebud with one finger, but when she pressed a little firmer, and the tip of her finger sank in easily, you lifted your head and shook your hair over your shoulder to look back. “Are you…“

“Oh yes.” Confirmed Ana, eyes glinting. She worked her finger in, slowly, but relentlessly, and felt almost zero resistance. Your eyes fluttered, but your lips popped open with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you teased me?” Ana continued, sliding in and out of the silky grasping hold of your inner muscles. A second finger pushed in, with the same demanding slowness as the first, and you moaned like wildfire, hands fisting against each other in the ropes that bound them. “You offered this, and it’s not like you to back down on a business negotiation.” Ana purred, scissoring her fingers to stretch the unbelievably tight ring.

“I wanted you to do it,” you confessed in an almost girlish whisper, your head falling back down and your voice a throaty rasp of sweet supplication. “I…I’ve never done it before, so just please, Mistress, go slow?”

“I would never hurt you,” Ana promised, stroking her spare hand tenderly over your shivering back while she kept her fingers thrusting gently, but firmly. “I’m gonna go slow and if it hurts or it’s too much, you can tell me without using the safe word.”

With that, Ana added a third finger, and you gasped at the fullness, you arched, pushing back at the strap sliding against your pussy and the fingers inside your ass. Ana almost felt the tip of her strap slip back inside, and it took almost a mountain of self-restraint to not thrust forward brutally into both holes. She moved her spare fingers down to the stiffened bud of your sorely under-stimulated clit, letting out a satisfied groan when the slightest brush of her fingertip sent you into a rising wail. Circling her clit, Ana removed her fingers slowly, enjoying the sucking grasp as she worked them out. She positioned the head of her strap at your back entrance with her other hand and began the same circular rubbing that her fingers mimicked on your clit. You thrilled out a needy moan, pushing back to get more stimulation on both ends, and Ana had to grit her teeth to stop herself from shoving the blunt tip in.

Slowly, with prolonged circles, she began working the head into your tight little anal ring, giving an appreciative hiss at how smoothly the muscles parted for her, thanks to her diligence with the lube. You let out a pained hitch in your breath when the head sank in fully, but Ana stilled to allow you to adjust, ignoring her overwhelming impulse to thrust deeper, and eventually, you gave a soft sigh that was more pleasure than pain.

“You okay?” Ana asked through her teeth, fingers softly flickering around your clit as she helped you get used to the size.

“Better than,” you affirmed, and you suddenly bucked, letting a few more inches slip in, to Ana’s surprised gasp. “Feels good,” you whispered, rolling your hips against Ana’s pelvis. “Feels really good.”

Ana groaned deep in her chest and lost the inner battle to keep from thrusting. She filled your ass with her length, and the taut heat of those silky inner muscles drew the end of the toy more firmly inside Ana, causing her to cry out. “So fucking tight.” She rumbled, barely sounding like herself. “Fuck…”

“Yesss yes yes fuck my ass, fuck my ass, ohhh Anaaaa..!” you screamed, and while normally Ana would’ve felt that she should be reminded of her proper title, at this instant she couldn’t force herself to care. Her climax was pulsing inside her, teetering ever closer to the edge, and she slammed into you, panting like a wild animal. The base of the toy was pounding into her clit, so hard she felt like the orgasm was going to rip her apart, but she didn’t care, could only think of the pleasure and the grunting, pumping thrusts.

When she came, it almost blinded her. The speed of her thrusts blurred, and she jerked into your ass, ramming you with such force that she almost lifted you off the bed. Her eyes closed in sheer bliss and she actually roared, letting your name roll off her lips over and over until she collapsed forward onto you and almost passed out.

Sometime later, when she recovered herself enough to lift off of the panting form below her, she realized you were still clenching desperately around her strap, trying to pull her back in even as she began the withdrawal. A harsh laugh escaped her and she pulled fully out, ignoring the needy whine that followed.

“Oh, we’re not done.” Ana promised, standing on shaky legs and leaving you bent over the bed with a fond slap to your ass. She left you there, whimpering, as she shrugged the harness off and tottered to the bathroom to wash up, cleaning her hands thoroughly. When she returned, wiping her fingers on a towel, you were rubbing against the bed, clearly trying to finish yourself off but unable to get the right friction against the satin sheets.

“Stop that,” Ana told you, mildly, and hauled her prize further onto the bed, pulling your legs up and arranging you, still in your bent, prone position, in the middle of the mattress. Ana reached for the lube again, finding the small jar still full enough for what she had in mind, and began spreading it over her fingers, slicking her hand until the whole surface was coated. At the first slide of two fingers inside you, you moaned welcomingly and arched back for more, which Ana gave you, adding a third. You were truly worked open, thanks to the rough fucking you’d been given in both holes and your sweet, pouting pussy grabbed at the fullness, asking for more. That was, luckily, the plan. Ana looked up at you as she added the fourth, and you cried out at the stretch, rolling your head back to look into Ana’s eyes with fascination and wonder.

“You’re filling me more than anyone ever has.” You moaned as another gush coated Ana’s palm.

“More than anyone ever will.” Ana’s eyes darkened and she tucked her thumb into the hold of her fingers. “Take a deep breath.”

You obeyed, and then instantly let it out in a scream as Ana’s hand slid fully inside you, fingers tightly curled together to allow your muscles to adjust. Both of you heaved and grasped, pulling Ana’s hand in deeper while also trying to shove her out. She waited, patient after her orgasm, as your walls tried to figure out what to do with the hand inside you, but it wasn’t long before your body pulsed and you moaned, pushing back for Ana to move.

At that moment, the ropes and the binds and the handprints didn’t matter, the only two things in existence were here, moving on the bed as one. Ana’s hand turned in slow circles inside of your body. Your cries were wordless, lost. You were crying, but you weren't in pain, Ana knew. There were tears in her own eyes as well, and the emotions spilled out as she brought her fingers back to your clit, stroking lovingly as her hand clenched and rolled inside of you. She felt, rather than heard or saw, your heartbreakingly beautiful climax building as the clenching muscles fluttered and gripped, and her name poured out of your puffy lips as you wailed like a banshee and your whole body stretched against the ropes that held you. 

The strength of it, the muscles slamming into her hand, almost took Ana by surprise, but she held strong, and thrummed her fingers against your swollen clit, bringing you fully over the edge. "Come for me," she whispered, harshly, her breath panting over your neck. "Let it go. I've got you."

When the last, shuddering jerks had finished, she withdrew her hand, slowly, and began untying the ropes, slashing quickly through them. Suddenly all she wanted was to hold you without the bonds, and in an instant, you were freed. You turned in her arms, still weeping, and brought your lips together in a burning, drowning rush.

“I love you so much.” you sobbed into her mouth, tears falling hot and fast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I love you too,” Ana confessed, vaguely aware that this was the first time either of you had said those words out loud, but also dreamily conscious that you had both already known, for months now, how the other had felt. It had taken this moment to get either to say it. She brushed a tear aside from your cheek and kissed you again, swelling with love. “I’m definitely the one who should be thanking you, though.”

“I don’t think I can move.” you chuckled, settling into her chest. “You can thank me by getting a bath ready so we can both soak all of this off.”

“Whatever my love wants.” Ana lifted your chin and you kissed, softly, letting the words sink in. 

[ak4e7a]

sweet disposition – psh (sfw)

notes: high school au, slice of life, scifi, jay lives to torment sunghoon, angst, hurt, comfort, i learned quantum mechanics to write this, also the first draft of this got me into grad school so #slay i guess

wc: 10.7k

cw: mentions of violence, SA, su1c1de attempt (not actually, it's a metaphor), parent trauma

trailer: you were always stuck in your ways. what happens when you decide to change out of love for someone else?

starring: park sunghoon, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and aespa karina (yu jimin)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿˚₊

“just desserts” arc — episodes 1-4

You never liked your name. You thought it didn’t suit you. 

After all, it was supposed to mean something like “sound of the heavens”, and you hadn’t spoken in three years. It wasn’t like you were mute or anything. You just didn’t have anything to say to anyone. Like, ever.

Yu Jimin was the closest thing you had to a friend, often acting as a translator between you and the rest of your classmates. You got along well with Jimin because most things she asked would be in the form of a yes or no question, and if she wanted more, it only took one look into your eyes to get an elaborate answer. And you were glad Jimin wasn’t pushy when it came to the subject of your intentional silence.

“I heard they’re playing ‘Silent Penalty’ next week! Those boys are crazy, don’t you think so? Especially Jaeyun and Jongseong,” Jimin cried, clutching her textbooks to her chest with her free arm. You were on your way to your family's cafe, where you worked part-time—Jimin as a waitress, you in the kitchen (where you wouldn’t be bothered).

The month of April tinted the otherwise muted color palette of the outskirts of Shibuya in blushed hues. You always walked home together; the stories of the Hello Kitty murder and the Setagaya Family and the Junko Furuta case so deeply ingrained into their memories that neither of you would allow the other to go anywhere alone. You and Jimin even carried dainty pocket knives in their bags; these were mostly used to open boxes at work or cut slits into the packaging of snacks from the convenience store by your school. But it never hurt to be too safe, especially as teenage girls in a big city.

You nodded, the wind blowing through your high ponytail, tousling several strands out of place. Sometimes you took pity on your friend, wishing you could be better company to the girl who had not left your side since you first moved to Shibuya. You often wondered if you should just tell Jimin how much you appreciated her, and how you wouldn’t leave her unless Jimin explicitly told you to do so. 

Tamago to chikai wa kudake-yasui, you thought to yourself as you continued to walk hand-in-hand. Why not just show her?

It wasn’t like you were a “bad” friend. You often helped Jimin with homework (you did it for her) and you were the one who taught her how to ride a bike. You prepared the best bentos, often shaping the onigiri to resemble the cats from Sailor Moon, and always brought an extra fruit jelly stick for Jimin, who would never fail to still be hungry after lunch.

You wondered if that was enough for Jimin. You supposed it was, since Jimin had never once complained… at least, to your face. But you also wondered how long that would last.

“But, I mean, their leader… he’s kinda cute,” Jimin trailed off. The boy in question was Heeseung, the quiet half of the Fox Club twins. Said “club” was known around Kokusai High School as a sometimes-rowdy, always-mischievous gang, whose members were all brilliant in their own right. “And I heard they’re looking for new members! We should try joining them! Even though… even though we’d be the only girls.”

You exhaled sharply, forcefully — your way of laughing with as little effort as possible. Sometimes, if you felt up to it, you would even treat Jimin to a smile. You followed the pebble you’d been kicking since you left Kokusai before stopping to pick it up and rub it clean with the hem of your sweater. Then you handed the polished stone to Jimin, who took it happily, saying she’d add it to her jar at home.

“I think joining them would be a good idea, even if we’d be the only girls… Maybe they’ll find a way to get you to talk again,” Jimin mumbled as you walked ahead of her. 

Sometimes, you mused, Jimin would say things and forget that you weren’t deaf, just quiet. Extremely, deafeningly quiet.

“Oh! Did you see that new experiment on TV last night?” Jimin asked, catching up to you. “The one about the snails getting their memories erased.”

You raised your eyebrows, and Jimin continued recounting the details from the news report she watched with her dad.

“I bet they taste gross. Don’t know why people have tried eating them. But you could probably find some way to fix that, huh?” she chirped, opening the back door of the cafe. “Since you’re so good at cooking.

You looked up, turning to Jimin with a playful gleam dancing along the outer corners of your normally blunted affect. You shrugged, as if to say, maybe, but it’s anyone’s guess, and helped Jimin tie her pink apron up.

It was a slow afternoon, the usual customers trickling in one at a time like the dregs of a coffee machine after it’s finished brewing. You noticed that Jimin was especially chatty at the register today, and sighed to yourself as you refilled the almond flour jar slower than your grandmother would have liked. How you wished you could join in the conversation.

It was a shame you were still convinced they’d hear you, but no one would truly listen.

When you finished every random task you could think of doing, you peeked out of the little window between the kitchen and the front counter. Its position was perfect for you to watch the television above the customers’ seating area without being caught by whoever happened to be working the cashier shift.

The program on the television that afternoon was a replay of Yuzuru Hanyu’s record-breaking short routine in figure skating at the 2014 Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia. Yuzuru had since become one of Japan’s permanent darlings, on and off the ice.

You frowned. That could have been you, had you not torn your right Achilles tendon right before high school started; had you not disappointed your entire family in front of a national audience; had you not landed on your ankle on purpose, because you didn’t know how else to tell your mother that your coach had been touching you in the locker room ever since you put your first pair of skates on. It’s not like your mother would have believed you. She was dating him, after all.

Maybe you would have been an Olympian had you not done any of those things, because no one gave medals out for lying and saying everything was fine.

“Y/N-ie,” Jimin called. “Where’s the milk bread?”

There was no answer, but that was a given. Jimin turned around to find your attention fixed to the television, eyes following Yuzuru’s every movement. If you still spoke, you would have been excitedly calling out each triple Axel and Lutz jump as you saw them.

But no sound came out of you, aside from the slow, deep breaths you took.

Jimin immediately grabbed the remote and changed the channel.

You snapped out of your maladaptive daydreaming, picturing yourself on that podium, and went back into the kitchen without any hesitation, and the milk bread was out of the oven several minutes later.

“Hello!” Jimin said. That was odd, you thought. You were about to close for the night. Usually, in the time you’d been working there, this part of your shift went interrupted.

“Oh… Is halmeoni not here?” went the soft, low voice.

Why are they looking for Grandma?

“No, not today. She hasn’t been feeling well lately. Can I get you anything?”

You crept toward the little window again, peeking behind the vase of lavender flowers that sat on the left side of the shelf that ran along the bottom. You recognized the person speaking. He was wearing the Kosukai boys’ uniform: navy blue blazer, a white shirt, burgundy and mauve necktie, and navy trousers. He was quite tall, with full, messy, dark-brown-almost-black hair parted down the middle, framing his tired, upturned eyes.

He was one of the Fox boys—but not one of high ranking, to your knowledge.

“Oh… um…”

“I’ll give you a moment to decide what you want. Pardon me,” Jimin said sweetly, before walking into the kitchen. The sound of the door swinging open startled you, causing you to nearly knock an open sack of flour over. You ducked down under the window before the boy could spot you. Jimin laughed. “What are you doing? Are you spying?” 

Pause. 

“Do you know who he is?”

No, said your pursed lips. You grabbed a sheet of scrap paper and a pen from the pocket of your frilly black apron and scrawled something down quickly. Jimin took it from you. 

I think that’s the boy Grandma told me about. The one she gives the unsold pastries to at the end of the day.

Jimin giggled. “Oh, no shit. He’s cute! But not as cute as Heeseung.”

You rolled your eyes at a specific tempo that Jimin perfectly recognized to mean shut up, he can probably hear you.

“Well, I’ll clean up here. You go give him the bread.” 

And with that, she pushed you through the swinging door as if she were moving a stack of heavy crates.

It was times like these that you wished she still had the will to speak, so that you could scream at your friend in disbelief. Jimin sometimes liked to take advantage of the fact that you would only physically protest if she thought it was worth fighting about. 

Your eyes softened when you looked at the boy, whose complexion had suddenly tinted the color of pickled plums. It was an uncanny look for someone who was seemingly so reserved and collected, from the times you’d seen him in passing.

“Oh. you ’re the granddaughter, right? Y/N? you ’re in class 3-A, right?” he said, his hands behind his back as he bowed. You nodded.

“I’m in 3-B… So it’s true, huh?” 

Pause. 

“You don’t talk?” 

Another nod.

“You can call me Sunghoon. Nice to meet you,” he said, to which he received a decidedly polite nod. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. I guess you can call me that in your head. Are you the one who does all the baking? If you are, it’s really good.”

You smiled like your muscles weren’t used to the strain before heading to the display case, a brown paper bag in hand. You slid the metal door open and used a pair of tongs to transfer the baked goods into the bag, deftly maneuvering each piece so as to not crush anything. You tied the bag closed with a piece of white ribbon and handed it to him, not allowing yourself to linger on how his cheeks had not let up on their rosy hue.

Sunghoon offered to walk you and Jimin home, out of politeness (and genuine concern for your safety, he said). Jimin accepted before you could even so much as blink a strong no, thanks, and so he waited as the two of you finished closing the cafe before heading in the direction of your apartment building. You tried your best not to panic. Being around the opposite sex was not high up on your very short list of favorite situations.

“I’ve never had a conversation so one-sided and yet only mildly uncomfortable,” Sunghoon said, having since regaled you with some of the more tame stories about the Fox Club. He told you about the time the twins came to school dressed in the girls’ uniforms, when he and three other boys (Park Jonseong, Yang Jungwon, and Nishimura Riki) got into a fight on the train after catching someone nonconsensually taking an upskirt picture, and the famous incident in which more than half of the Foxes ended up in the swimming pool, still fully clothed. “Y/N could hate me for all I know.”

You scowled. He adjusted the strap of your bookbag on his shoulder, clearing his throat. “No, wait, that’s not what you think it means. I meant that because you don’t say anything, you can spend more time judging me.”

You gave him a variation of the same exhaled laugh you only reserved for Jimin, shaking your head. You could already tell Sunghoon was kind by the way he walked on the side closest to the road, and never pushed you to speak the way others tended to do.

“You aren’t?”

I am, but I don’t think poorly of you. It’s the opposite, really.

Jimin chuckled. “She has other things to do besides complain. Like be my best friend. Right, Y/N?”

You nodded.

Of course. you’re pretty much all I have left, and that makes me more pathetic than ever.

—

The next Friday, you took the challenger’s seat at the Fox Den’s lunch table, on an otherwise bleak, foggy afternoon.

The entire cafeteria was in shock. The aforementioned seat was more of a symbolic gesture than anything; the Foxes rarely, if ever, gained new members because of how rough their games could get. The reward, however, was respect, notoriety, and the unyielding loyalty of seven teenage boys.

“Alright, hold on,” Jaeyun, the outgoing one of the twins and de-facto second in command, interrupted as the other boys cheered and swooned over you. He ran a hand through his dyed pastel pink hair cooly, eyeing you in front of him; your posture indicated that you were not scared in the slightest. 

You were everyone’s hallway crush, despite your cold exterior and refusal to even consider any confessions of their affection. Not one day could go by without you hearing usually-innocent comments about how pretty you were, garnering comparisons to different shoujo protagonists.

And to exacerbate those remarks, that week, you’d heard the boys giving Sunghoon shit after finding out he walked you and Jimin home; it was all they talked about in their free time since Monday morning, bombarding him with questions about what your voice sounded like and if there were really scars on your ankle and how you smelled. 

Everyone froze, waiting for the next words. Jaeyun looked at you as if you were a particularly difficult sudoku puzzle. “You sure you want to do this? I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a girl.”

You nodded metronomically.

Jimin cried out a sharp “No!” before covering her mouth in what you thought was a mix of devastation and realization, tears pooling in her eyes like spring dewdrops on blades of grass. When her eyes locked with yours, the universe was put on hold for a moment. You wished you could hold her hand and say it out loud.

I’m doing this for you.

Beside Jaeyun, Park  Jongseong, another one of your fellow third-years, brandished two long needles, previously wrapped in his white handkerchief. He towered in front of you like the Tokyo Skytree, his long black hair covering one eye, the other glinting playfully under the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. He’d abandoned his blazer over the back of the empty chair in front of her, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, exposing the prominent veins along his inner forearms. “Who’s going today?”

“I’ll do it,” Sunghoon said over the voices of the other club members, easing his way through the slowly-growing crowd of students. “Let’s make it quick.”

“Who has the stuff?” Jongseong asked, spraying something onto the needles that made the club’s seating area instantly smell like a hospital. You grimaced only for a second, pushing back the memories of being in the emergency room.

There was an exchange between two closed fists, and before any more objections, Heeseung was announcing the rules to Silent Penalty, tossing a pair of dice in the air as he spoke.

“A roll of eight means you take a penalty mission. If both parties have eight at the end of the same round, both will face penalty. We’ll do two penalties. Keep a straight face through both, and you win. Back out, and you forfeit the whole game. Consequences will be decided later on.” He shot a glance at Y/N. “If you win, you will be the first girl in the club. Do you accept?”

You shook your head slowly. The boys whispered furiously behind you. You pointed at Jimin.

“Oh… She means that I get to come, too,” Jimin piped up, half-hidden behind Yang Jungwon’s broad back.

The dark-haired twin snickered. “Fine. That doesn’t bother me. Anyone against it? No? Then let’s start. Good luck, Y/N. Sunghoonie is our best Penalty player.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘best’,” Jongseong argued. “Luckiest, sure.”

Round one: you , 7; Sunghoon, 4.

Round two: you , 9; Sunghoon, 7.

Round three: you , 5; Sunghoon, 11.

“Shit, Seung,” Jongseong murmured to Heeseung as they stood behind Sunghoon. “Maybe you should have picked a different penalty number.”

Heeseung grinned, patting his friend on the back with a heavy hand. “It’s a thirteen-point-eighty-nine percent chance of rolling an eight. Not zero. Just be patient.”

Tensions mounted in the tenth round, but neither Sunghoon nor you were fazed. Not even when both of you rolled your first eight.

Jaeyun clapped, earning him a glare from his twin brother. “Oh, finally.”

“First penalty,” Heeseung announced, nudging Jaeyun aside. “Jongseong, the needles, please.”

Jimin gasped. “No, wait, what are you doing?”

“Ear piercings,” Jongseong answered with a grin as he began to sanitize two silver studs in his handkerchief. With his free hand, he held Jimin firmly in her spot by the cuff of her blazer. “Don’t worry, Heeseung is good at it.” Still clutching her, he used their joined hands to point to his right ear, a diamond earring in the center of his lobe. “Got this one last year.”

“Ready?” Heeseung asked, taking the alcohol-soaked handkerchief from Jongseong, hands already gloved up.

Everyone watched in silence as Sunghoon allowed Heeseung to confidently push the needle into his cartilage. Sunghoon blinked once, twice, then licked his lips all while the earring was inserted and the backing locked into place.

Taking the other needle, Heeseung sauntered over to you. You looked at him before turning to Sunghoon, brushing your hair away from your face.

“You already have a piercing,” he frowned, gingerly pinching your right ear between his pointer finger and thumb. “I’ll just pick another spot… is this okay?”

You nodded, feeling him graze over the protrusion covering the opening of your ear. You inhaled what could have been construed as the last breath of a dying woman, then exhaled as Heeseung pushed the needle through the thick cartilage of her tragus. He screwed the earring into place, smirking.

“Brave girl.” He turned to his brother. “Did she flinch?”

“Didn’t even blink,” Jaeyun praised. “Fucking sick.”

Sunghoon bit his lip, taking the dice out of your cold hand.

Round fifteen: you , 8; Sunghoon, 8.

“Damn, again?” Jongseong remarked. “That’s either very lucky or very unlucky.”

“The special lunch, Sunghoon,” Heeseung commanded. The boy ducked under the table to retrieve a bento box, blowing his bangs out of his face as he came back up. He looked like he was going to throw up. You thought the pain in his ear couldn’t have been that bad for him.

“Do we have to?” he asked. “Can’t we do something else?”

You answered on Heeseung’s behalf, leaning forward, propping your chin up with your hand, elbow resting on the tabletop as you looked into his eyes. Whatever it is, let’s just get it over with. Unless you’re too scared.

“No.” Jaeyun opened the box, revealing two snails and a small clear container filled with white crystalline grains. Sugar, you hoped, although it was most likely salt. “Here. We’re running out of time.”

You each reached for a snail, Sunghoon opting for the larger of the two.

“Wait,” Heeseung ordered, eyes narrowing to the point where he resembled the nickname he was often called—snake. You and Sunghoon waited, still clutching their own snails. “Sunghoonie, give yours to Y/N. She’s the challenger, not you.”

You resisted the urge to squirm as you felt a jolt run up your arm, like you’d accidentally touched the prongs of a plug that was halfway out of an electrical socket.

Sunghoon scowled. “This isn’t going to be pretty, regardless.”

Amane put her free hand over his, with an expression she hoped he would understand as  don’t worry, it’ll be fine, and they switched snails.

“Put some sugar and eat it,” Jaeyun chimed in.

Amane let go of his hand as he glared at the shock of pink hair sticking out in the crowd. “The shells, too?” he drawled.

“Don’t be a smartass, Hoon,” Jongseong laughed.

It was slimy and bitter, even with the sugar. You kept your focus on Sunghoon as your lips wrapped around the opening of the shell, sucking on the body until it slid into your mouth. you r first mistake was chewing, the snail guts oozing onto your palate. you r vision blackened around the edges, and in the span of several milliseconds the Sunghoon that sat in front of you was replaced by the image of a younger boy, with the same dark black-brown hair and dark eyes, albeit thinner, almost haggard-looking.

All you could do while you were frozen in place was swallow, watching the boy as he was pushed out of the front door of an unfamiliar house by someone who could have only been his father, a silver second-place trophy thrown after him. It clattered to the ground, smashing into several pieces that the boy gathered up into the hem of his black sweater. He ran through the old, worn-down neighborhood until he reached another apartment, knocking on the glossy red door until a dark-haired woman with glasses answered, letting the crying boy inside.

You felt the unwelcome but familiar sinking feeling of parental disappointment gather in the pit of your stomach, its endless tentacles swirling and wrapping themselves around the chunks of snail entrails that slid down your esophagus.

You guessed that Sunghoon was experiencing something similar, which meant that he saw the memory of a young girl gliding across a sheet of ice in a skintight jeweled red leotard and matching skirt with all the elegance and grace of a koi fish in water. Out of the corner of the girl’s periphery, a group of people gathered at a section of the plexiglass that framed the entire ice rink; one man smiled, and he saw you skate into a jump before landing with a resounding crack that caused every spectator in the stadium to get on their feet for a closer look.

He would have then seen that man run onto the ice and pick you up, cradling you too close to his body even if he were your father. His hands were in the wrong places, and Sunghoon would have to have wondered why no one was saying anything. Perhaps their focus was all on the blood that began to seep through your nude-colored tights.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” went one of the twins—your focus was too far elsewhere to distinguish or care about who it was. “Welcome to the Fox Club.” 

You ran out of the school building as soon as the dismissal bell rang, Jimin and Sunghoon calling out after you.

— 

“Umiushi,” Sunghoon said, pointing to the creatures at the bottom of the metal basin. You were in the kitchen of the apartment he shared with his aunt, who just so happened to be a marine biologist studying these so-called “memory snails”. “That’s what we ate. But it’s a special type. Jimin said she told you about them.”

You watched the sea snails in a curious disgust, afraid that they would somehow leap out of the water and down your throat. You nodded to affirm him.

“Yeah. Basically, they have some sort of molecule that can be blocked so that their memories can be blocked, too. There’s not much else we know about them… and I asked Aunt Mina—don’t worry, I didn’t tell her what I saw or anything, it was a hypothetical question—I asked her if it’s possible to transfer memories, and she said it’s impossible right now. Something like that would be magic.”

You grimaced. Magic was for children.  

It had been two months since that Friday afternoon that changed everything. Since that day, Sunghoon had followed you home, knowing full well what you’d seen from the snail he’d first touched, the one you ended up eating. He told you how his Aunt Mina took him in after his father disowned him for losing the chess tournament, and how they hadn’t spoken since. 

The next morning, you showed up at their house and handed him an origami crane with Why the bread, then? scrawled inside.

Sunghoon explained to you that he was saving all his pocket money to one day pay for a chess “tutor” to whip him into shape, so he could win enough matches for him to go home—the promise his father had made to him the last time they’d spoken, almost a decade ago. You appreciated the honesty of a mere acquaintance so much so that you returned to school after that weekend with a photocopy of several diary entries that pertained to the memory he’d intercepted.

Inside, you confirmed his suspicions. The man was your coach, and, incidentally, your mother’s boyfriend. No one believed what was going on, and your furious mother sent you to live with your estranged father’s mother in Shibuya. It was almost five hours away from Sendai, where you had grown up and trained with one of Japan’s future Olympic figure skaters, Yuzuru himself. Before the incident, it was pretty much guaranteed that you would reach that level, too, since everyone said you were blessed by the gods with such talent. But as your mother said, it was you who ruined everything. Not the gods, not the universe, not fate.

You stopped speaking, Sunghoon learned in your handwriting, because you felt as though no one would listen if you did. You said it was easier that way, less effort on your part. It was harder for you to make promises that you didn’t even want to consider keeping. It forced people to be direct, otherwise they’d get nowhere with you. You didn’t like talking, anyway. It was worth less than acting upon things.

The final page of the diary entries was a single line, a proverb you lived by. 

Tamago to chikai wa kudake-yasui.

Eggs and vows are easily broken.

— 

You stood on the rooftop, the frigid night air whipping your cheeks the color of the sakura trees below. You and Sunghoon had snuck to the top of one of the Tokyo skyscrapers way past midnight, on a whim. Now, as one of the Foxes, you would agree that life was a bit more fun with some trouble.

You were more than happy Jimin had finally confessed her feelings to Heeseung, and he’d reciprocated, even if it meant you and your best friend spent less time alone together. While Sunghoon could never take Jimin’s place exactly, he fit into your life just fine. Maybe it was because you made space for him to be there.

He loved fruit jelly sticks just as much as Jimin, so you started bringing an extra one for him as well. You noticed that when he took the leftovers from your grandmother’s cafe, the taiyaki in the bag excited him the most. He told you that they were called something else back home in Korea, but he thought yours tasted better. After that, you would always “accidentally” make too many, and give him the rest when you thought no one was looking. You once found him in the library playing chess against himself, and the next day you sat in front of him and played until the lunch bell rang, having learned the rules the night before.

You found out Sunghoon spoke the same language as you. Acts of service. He carried around a pack of Salonpas because you were prone to muscle cramps and the occasional shooting pain in your ankle. you ’d always blush and look away when he’d hand you a clip to keep your hair out of your face, ignoring how his fingers lingered on yours just a split second too long to be platonic. When the boys would tease the two of you about being constantly together, you would text your snarky comeback to Sunghoon, and he would say it out loud for you. And everyone would laugh.

You truly were practically inseparable, though. You couldn’t bring yourself to shut him out, not when he’d already seen what you considered to be the worst part of you and why you were the way you were, and still chosen to think the best of you. On Friday nights, when Jimin and Heeseung were out on yet another city expedition, the two of you would sit on the plastic-covered couch in your grandmother’s living room and watch Yuri On Ice, the anime about a competitive figure skater’s return to the sport. And Sunghoon wouldn’t make you feel embarrassed about crying, only comforting you after making sure it was okay to touch you.

You liked him. He could doze off at times, but he never made a big deal about it. You admired that. And you also appreciated that he never said he felt sorry for you and what happened when you were thirteen. It was unnecessary, you thought. The important thing was that he was there.

The Foxes always traveled in packs. For the boys, it was a sign of friendship. To you, it was protection. Being one of the two girls in the club meant they were extra protective over you, and Sunghoon was no exception. In fact, he was the rule. Every day, without fail, he and Heeseung would walk you and Jimin to school, then to work, then back home.

The world felt a little less lonely to you. And maybe, just maybe, you could stop running from it with one good leg to stand on. Maybe you could find it in yourself to forgive a world that took, since that world had Sunghoon in it. Almost as if it were trying to make it up to you.

His black scarf was wrapped around your neck, flooding your nose with the scent of clean laundry and musk. He’d let you wear it on the train ride over to Shinjuku, and you wondered if he was falling in love with you, too. You hoped that he knew you weren’t scared of being so close to him. Not when he was everything you needed from yourself.

“It’s time we started living for ourselves, don’t you think?” you asked, staring down at the city lights in all their neon glory. Every single speck represented another disappointment, another broken heart, another fruitless wish. None of it mattered. But it still did. “Maybe start chasing a different dream. Maybe the same one. But be in control this time. It’s more fun that way, isn’t it?”

The wind blew your pleated uniform skirt upward, and when you turned to see if Sunghoon was looking, he was. At your face. You had just mustered the courage to speak again, voice raspy from years of unuse. You leaned ever so slightly over the edge, arms spread out wide, feeling the strong breeze catch your body in the current. The tickle of the urge to free-fall played around in your mind.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon yelled before grabbing your wrist at the last possible moment and pulling you back hard enough for you to fall on top of him. You clambered off after a moment’s hesitation, sitting beside him and smoothing out the hem of your skirt.

You looked down, almost ashamed of your impulse. “You….”

“Y/N,” he wheezed, pushing his bangs out of his face as he tried to collect himself. “Are you crazy?”

Your brow furrowed as you examined the worried expression that painted his delicate, sculpted face. “What… What’s wrong, Sunghoon?” The roll of your tongue felt nice in your mouth; yes, you could get used to saying his name out loud. “Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Sunghoon retorted, to which you answered with your usual breathy laugh.

“I don’t think killing yourself is that funny—did I miss a joke or something?”

You smiled at him, taking his hand into yours. His was much bigger, and warmer, but felt right all the same. “I wasn’t going to kill myself at all,” you said. “At least, not literally.”

Goodbye, silent Y/N.

–––

“under the moon” arc — episodes 5-8

It had been four months since the snail incident. And while you certainly would have not preferred to have someone who was a stranger at the time witness the worst thing that had ever happened to you, you didn’t regret having the sticky ooze of entrails coagulate in your body.

Because you would have never guessed you would gain a whole new family out of it.

The boys could get rowdy at times, but they meant well—for the most part. Those occasional instances when they didn’t were usually because someone had decided to bother you  and force you to speak for them. You didn’t mind talking most of the time now; all that mattered was that you got to decide when you’d open your  mouth and to whom you’d speak to.

Being one of the two girls in the group certainly had its drawbacks, but you liked to think you balanced them out just fine. After all, their detention rate had gone down in the past couple of months thanks to you insisting they stop throwing water balloons off the gym’s roof and they stop sneaking into the basketball team’s gym to deflate all the balls.

“Y/N-ie,” Jongseong chirped as he sauntered over to the Foxes’ table with his bento in hand. He was the only one besides Jimin who used that particular honorific, and you only allowed him to do so because of how stupidly tall he was compared to you. “Where’s Hoon?”

You looked up from your food, stony eyes glancing at the other boys—and Jimin, who sat beside Heeseung—and everyone shrugged. You blinked slowly at Jongseong before answering, “He’s going to enter the cafeteria in… five seconds.”

“You’re just bullshitting at this point,” Jaeyun laughed, mouth full of rice. While he was certainly more in-your-face than his twin brother, the Foxes’ vice president was surprisingly still pleasant to be around. You would never say it to his ridiculous pink hair, though, because he’d never shut up about it if you did. “Damn, you eat one snail and suddenly you’re Yuuji Itadori or something.”

“She’s not making it up, Yunie,” Jimin chimed in from where Heeseung’s arm was around her shoulder. She pointed in the direction of the double doors. “Look, there he is.”

You lifted your bag out of the chair next to you without even looking to see if Sunghoon had already reached the table. It was like you had a radar for him and him only, and you’d spent the last few days staying up late thinking about how that was possible.

You both seemed to be able to sense what the other person was feeling, which meant that neither of you were ever hungry, tired, or in a bad mood for long. You often would run into each other during times you normally weren’t supposed to be together, the rare occasions where you would spend your weekends alone always seemed to change the moment the both of you left your houses. At one point, you two discovered that not only did Sunghoon have an insane talent for drawing, but he could accurately guess what you were wearing and how your hair was styled without having seen you prior to his sketches.

Thankfully, however, you couldn’t totally read each other’s minds. You would be embarrassed for Sunghoon to find out you’d come to love him if he could hear your thoughts.

It couldn’t have been the snails that did this to you, right?

“Sorry, Hiroto-sensei was chewing my ass out,” Sunghoon said as he shrugged off his uniform blazer and sat down. He placed a carton of mango juice beside your hand, the straw already punctured through the foil seal.

“You were sleeping in class again, weren’t you?” you asked, handing Sunghoon the bento you spent the morning preparing for him. It had all his favorites—pork curry, rice, natto, a soft boiled egg, and the taiyaki from your family’s cafe.

“At this point, I don’t know why he even tries,” he laughed. You smiled at him softly. You were glad you found it in yourself to speak, because your new family actually paid attention to you. They didn’t possess Sunghoon’s attuned nature towards you, but you appreciated them all the same. “I need my nine hours one way or the other.”

“You had nine hours last night.” You paused, chopsticks in midair. “Jongseong, why are you staring?”

The black-haired boy looked at you as if you should have known the answer. “It’s like you two have powers or something.”

“Why would you say that?” Sunghoon asked.

“You two are so connected, it’s romantic.”

You tried to hide the blush spreading across your face. “Shut up.”

You and Sunghoon both agreed that God—at least, the one from Christianity—wasn’t real. Something from a World War II history documentary they’d watched together said it best—a line carved into the walls of a jail in the Mauthausen concentration camp.

“If there is a God, then He will have to beg for my forgiveness.”

Certainly, that God was all sorts of fucked up to grant free will. To allow your figure skating coach to violate your body for years. To be unable to stop Sunghoon’s father from beating him for every game of chess he lost. To give the worst pain to the least deserving.

That is the problem of evil. That if there were such suffering in the world, and yet God could not prevent it, then He is not omnipotent. Maybe He didn’t even come close to the power that Izanami and Izanagi or any of the other Shinto deities held, and they were far from perfect.

Sunghoon once told you that he would destroy the whole world for you if he could, to which you simply rolled your eyes and said that that would be no fun. This was, incidentally, after he’d gifted you a painting he’d done of the ancient lotus garden in Kumamoto. Making art was his new hobby that you made him pick up so he wouldn’t be so burnt out playing chess all the time.

“And why not?”

“Because our suffering helps us delight in everything else that much more,” you answered, resting your cheek on his shoulder. You knew you wouldn’t have said that two months ago, that you would have instead told him that humans are put on Earth to suffer and nothing else, but after being around friends who didn’t take life so seriously (if they ever did at all), you’d learned to have fun with your finite existence as it was.

Of course, you appreciated Sunghoon’s sentiment all the same. It held you close and told you everything would be alright, that the way your life had turned out was not your fault like you’d believed it was, but rather a consequence of things you could not control. In your physics class, Hiroto-sensei had quoted Albert Einstein during a lecture on quantum mechanics.

“God does not play dice with the universe.”

That was to say, Einstein never believed in the idea that atoms were governed by randomness. He turned his nose up at the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, which itself stated that there was no way to accurately predetermine the speed and position of a particle at any moment. He asserted that there was no way that anything could be certain, that it wasn’t possible to describe things in terms of probabilities. He thought that the course of all events was fixed, that God formulated and prescribed a certain set of laws and sat back to watch the universe evolve in accordance with those laws.

You would have to disagree with him.

After all, what kind of vindictive God would— 

— 

“Sunghoon,” you said as you laid on the floor of your living room, listening to music in English because you promised each other that one day you would get out of the country together. On this particular night, your album of choice was Radiohead’s Pablo Honey. 

He had mentioned that the band, at one point, refused to play “Creep” live because it was the one song the audience came to hear. You knew what that felt like. 

Sunghoon turned his gaze away from the ceiling to look at you, his eyes softening. “Hm?”

“Do… do you still like chess?”

You knew that he would understand what you meant by that. In the past few weeks, you’d had to practice with him after it turned out that you were a better opponent than anyone in Kokusai’s chess club. Sunghoon was still dead-set on going back to playing competitively, all in the name of being allowed to return to his childhood home, to his father, one day. At least, that’s what you thought.

Something about that made you uneasy, but you knew you were in no place to cast stones. After all, you had your own share of disappointing your parents. Your own mother had not come to see you in Shibuya since the day she abandoned you there, effectively handing over any parenting duties to your grandmother. The phone works two ways, and she’d never acknowledged that fact of the universe. And, unlike Sunghoon, you had never been offered the opportunity to go back “home” to Sendai. As if that place had ever been your home to begin with.

The nuances between your circumstances were only sparing, to say the least.

“You’re worried about me,” he declared. “You think I want to win a tournament so I can go home.”

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, yeah. I want to go home. But only to drop that stupid trophy off at my father’s door and be the one who never speaks to him again. Besides, why should I return to that place when I’m completely fine here?”

Maybe Jongseong had a point, you thought. Maybe you two did share something more than a lunch box of snails. Maybe it’s romantic, after all.

“Are you really okay here?”

He returned his gaze to the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. “Yeah. Because it’s where you are.”

— 

Sunghoon knelt down at your feet, lacing up your ice skates.

However, your legs were bouncing uncontrollably, and it wasn’t because of how cold the indoor rink was. Part of you wished that your Achilles tendon didn’t heal completely.

“Look, you made it this far,” Sunghoon said quietly, brushing his fingers against your supposed bad ankle. The doctors had said you’d be fine to skate on it, that it was your mind that wasn’t allowing you to try again. “We can come back another time.”

You shook your head. How you’d longed to be back, pining for a time where you would be free from the prison of invisible hands gripping her limbs, pinning you down on the ground. “No. I promised you we’d do it today. I need to do this for myself, too.”

“If you can’t—”

“Don’t tell me you doubt me, because I’ve already got that covered,” you snapped, the words flying out faster than you could control them. Your hand came up to cover your mouth. “I’m sorry, Hoonie. I didn’t mean—”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Don’t worry. It’s nice to finally hear what you think. But I disagree. You are so much more than you realize. I’m proud of you.”

Your eyes closed gently before you allowed herself to momentarily soak up those four words.

Then you shrugged off your coat and took his hand, letting him guide you to the rink. The frigid air tried to seep through your fleece-lined stockings but it was nothing to you as you began to wobble on the ice. You scolded herself internally and forced her muscles to relax. It was unbecoming of you to say you should have been an Olympian before the accident and then proceed to look like you needed a walker. 

It took several moments before you began to glide carefully, the blades of your skates just an extension of your body.

You didn’t need to go back to Sendai anymore. You could stand on both legs now, head held high.

For the next few minutes, you took your time getting used to the feeling again, silently willing all of your faith in yourself to return. You were different now. You could trust yourself. Protect yourself.  Being a Fox brought that out of you—your bravery, determination, the unabashed desire to take what the universe threw at you and spit it back in its face.

Of course, you had to thank Sunghoon for showing up when he did. Before then, you were what some people would call just waiting to die. Waiting for the possible day in which you would stop being who you were.

He never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. He never forced himself on you. The first time you ever held hands, it was you who reached for him in your sleep as you napped on the floor next to him, the space heater keeping the two of you warm.

Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared.

You didn’t need to, anymore. You glanced over your shoulder to find Sunghoon watching you intently, head propped up with his hand as he leaned on the railing.

One, two… three… jump.

You closed your eyes and leapt, spinning three hundred and sixty degrees before landing with only minimal strain, the skirt of your dress fluttering. You could hear Sunghoon’s overjoyed cries faintly as you continued to swim through the air, feeling the rush that used to overcome you when you were younger, although this time, there was nothing looming over you like the shadow of the Grim Reaper. Your entire body vibrated, all of your electrons dancing along with you.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate when you came to him, pulling you in for a tight hug.

It was short-lived, though, because as soon as you came into contact,

you passed right through him.

“What… what the fuck?” he whispered, turning his head around to see you standing behind him. You were staring at your own hands, wondering what the hell just happened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It didn’t hurt.” You looked at him with a mirrored wide-eyed expression. “I think we need to call Jongseong.”

“I knew it,” Park Jongseong said smugly, strolling into the lobby of the ice rink with his hands in his pockets and an unlit Seven Stars dangling from his lips. You and Sunghoon sat one seat apart, in fear that it would happen again.

“Don’t be crazy,” you muttered as you crossed your arms. You uncrossed them when you considered the possibility that your hands could go inside your body if you weren’t careful. “There’s no such thing as having powers.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon added. “But there has to be some sort of explanation for this.”

Jongseong grinned, pushing his black hair out of his face. “Yeah. You’ve heard of quantum theory, right? Atomic principles? Hoon, you weren’t asleep during that lecture, were you?”

“Maybe I was. What do atoms have to do with any of this?” Sunghoon asked, rolling his eyes.

“Well, basically… how can I explain this easily… uh… your atoms and Y/N’s were so perfectly aligned that you… y’know… passed through each other.”

You frowned. “But Einstein said—”

“He was wrong. People can be wrong. Shit, even the gods were wrong sometimes. Damn, do you sleep in class, too?”

“I—”

“Nothing,” Jongseong said, “is a guarantee. Except death.”

Take that, Einstein.

— 

“You’re beautiful. I wish I could draw you right now,” he said.

You let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Cameras exist. You could just take a picture.”

“That’s not nearly enough.”

Your hands trailed shakily along the lapels of Sunghoon’s blue blazer, fingertips grazing the hem as he edged closer to you. You wondered if the accident would happen again.

“H-hoon…” you whispered as you attempted to sink your head deeper into his scarf wrapped around your neck. “I’m scared.”

They were on the rooftop you’d killed herself on—in the metaphorical sense—all those months ago. Since then, everything as you knew it was different, from your voice to the way you presented yourself all the way down to how you felt. 

“Nonsense,” he quipped in the same hushed tone. Your eyes were locked on your shoes, feet pointed toward one another. “You’re damn well the bravest person I know. It’s contagious, actually.”

“This is different,” you replied. You rubbed the fabric of his blazer feebly. “I…”

“I love you,” he said, tucking his index and middle fingers beneath her chin to tilt your head up to look at him. “I really love you.”

I love you. I love you a lot.

“No! you  can’t just… you can’t just say it like that!” you protested, hands flattening against his broad chest and attempting to push him away from you. It was no use. Despite how lanky he appeared to be, he was built like an iron wall.

Sunghoon chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours. “How would you rather I say it?”

You froze as heat rose to your face. They’d just discussed this in class; the story went that Souseki Natsume, a famous writer who once taught English, said that because the Japanese did not declare their love so loosely the way Westerners did, the most appropriate equivalent of the expression would be “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”.

And the most appropriate “literary” response to that came out of your mouth smoothly, like melted ice cream. “Shindemo ii wa.”

I would die happy.

–––

season finale: i know the end — episodes 9-12

When observed under a microscope, two particles both affected by one experience will no longer exist as individuals thereafter, but as two halves of one whole. This phenomenon is known as quantum entanglement, and had been used by several of your closest friends to describe the way in which your life had flipped itself over its axis on one April afternoon in your third and final year of high school.

Five years had passed since you’d graduated. Since the day you grew a spine and ate a snail with Park Sunghoon, the day you stopped living on autopilot. Since you’d fallen in love with him and regained the mastery of your own voice, both of these things you’d done over and over again, day after day. And it had been three years since you finally returned to competitive figure skating to prove that you could do more than just fine on your own, without your mother and certainly without a coach who would violate your physical existence.

But in those years, Sunghoon still hadn’t made it out of Japan like he said you both would someday. At least, you hoped, not yet. Not yet, but soon. You knew it had to be soon.

You sat in your small apartment in the Fairfax district of Los Angeles, an expensive neighborhood you were only able to afford because of the amount of endorsements you’d taken on. Your little black cat, Tai, as in taiyaki, as in the dessert Sunghoon loved so much, purred contentedly in your lap as you stared out of the window and into the street below. 

You’d agreed to adopt a cat together one day. You wondered if he already had one of his own by now. You assumed he did; on several occasions you could sense his presence, encouraging you, making you push forward and keep fighting against the universe, against Izanami and Izanagi, against God Himself.

This was what you did in your free time. Miss your life back home. You didn’t want to make any new friends. It was useless. No one could take or come anywhere remotely near Sunghoon’s place—or Jimin’s, or Heeseung’s, or Jaeyun’s, or Jongseong’s, for that matter. 

Soon, you promised yourself, you could show Sunghoon all that he’d missed out on. In your second year in America, you finally mastered the quadruple lutz after several doctors quelled your anxieties and confirmed your ankle really had healed miraculously. 

You decided you would also take Sunghoon to Little Tokyo, Los Angeles, where you’d go every time you felt like getting on a Boeing 747 to give up on this dream once and for all and go back to him, your other dream—if he’d still have you, that is. You didn’t know for sure.

You played with your phone in your hand, turning it over in your palm. You knew he was only a call away, but you were starting to go back to your old self, unsure of whether or not he’d even pick up. There was also a newfound sense of pride you had, not wanting to be the first one to cave in. If he was the one who pushed you forward, why should you be like Eurydice and turn around to look back?

But Sunghoon was the one who put it best, every single time you asked him why he gave up on playing chess in favor of going to art school after graduation—even though his victory in the championships would win back the respect of his father: “I don’t need to go home when you’re right beside me.”

Liar. Where are you?

That night, like many other nights spent lonely, you could feel him beside you, when everything was still except your own chest, aching for some sort of reprieve from the constant gravitational pull of your personal sun and moon, and the monotonous whirr of the electric fan that sat watch beside yoiur bed. You felt the ghost of his fingertips along your spine, and since you happened to be super lucky and lying extra quietly this time—you heard his voice, soft and low and warm like whiskey down your throat. It played on a loop until it lulled you to sleep.

“We’ll go together. I promise.”

He’d said that the night he admitted he loved you.

You also knew that he always knew where you stood on things as flimsy as words:

Tamago to chikai wa kudake-yasui.

Eggs and vows are easily broken.

And since he knew, why would he say that—when he was the one who could read you without even so much as a perfunctory glance? Why would he stand with you in Terminal 1 of Tokyo Narita without his own boarding pass? Why would he tell you to break up with him right before you got on that plane to California?

Stupid plane. Stupid distance. Stupid Y/N. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had no patience for idiots. You weren’t excluded from your own disdain.

The only thing that kept you sane was the fact that somewhere deep inside you, in a place whose existence you were reluctant to acknowledge, you knew that one day, you’d see him again.

You had to.

You just hoped you’d still be able to recognize each other.

— 

To change the polarity of an electromagnet, two people are required. They use one snail for each person. Their most repressed memory will transfer over to the snail once it’s been touched. In order for the magnetic fields to switch, the parties must switch their snails and consume them.

The result should not end in repulsion.

The day Sunghoon’s atoms had lined up with yours so perfectly that you passed right through him was an indicator that some things weren’t just theories that could be disproved with a fallacy or two. That much was true.

You sighed, trudging through the farmer’s market in search of your favorite stand, which was run by a group of friends who reminded you so much of your beloved Fox Club back home. They sold baked goods that your trainer would frown upon if she saw them, but you believed that you deserved to eat them every Sunday.

And without fail, Sunghoon’s voice popped up in your head, reassuring you that you could eat them every day if you wanted to, just as long as you did it in moderation.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly, still unsure as ever if he could hear your reply.

You paid for the decadent salted chocolate chip cookies and walked the four blocks home, debating for the millionth time over why you and him had to be forced apart. Did it mean you had to grow alone first? Would you be able to ever feel whole again?

You were able, however, to feel him missing you. So it wasn’t as completely one-sided as it seemed to be sometimes. It was always there, a slight tug in your heartstrings like a thread on its last life. It sat in your chest right beside where you missed him. On this particular day, it was strong. Stronger than any of the other days that came before, so overwhelming that you had to stop halfway home and sit on a bench to catch your breath.

Could quantum theory explain how he could feel whatever you were thinking? Or how you knew, back when you two were still together, what he wanted for dinner before you even asked? Or how your anxieties would disappear just as fast as they came, replaced by a flood of reassurances?

You had had a feeling that he failed his Visa interview on purpose, six months before you were slated to go to America. In the embassy’s lobby, he’d told you that the interviewer said he would have passed if you were his wife and not just his girlfriend.

Liar.

He’d assured you that he did want to go with you. He could find a job working for Pixar or Illumination or anywhere that would hire him for his talent. So why was the universe making it so hard for you to be together now, when the first two years of your entanglement were so easy?

Nothing, you learned, was supposed to make sense. You could spend hours asking “But why?” to every answer and there would be nothing to shut you up. In fleeting moments you would reconsider your decision to speak again, because the one person you spoke for was a little more than five thousand miles away.

So how am I able to be happy when he isn’t right next to me?

Not as happy as you knew you could be, but happy nonetheless. You were running after your first dream, after all.

Your phone rang when you got home.

“Jimin?” you asked, squinting at the screen. You were met with the image of your best friend, bouncing her seven-month-old baby on her lap, a little girl named after you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin’s husband, Heeseung, called, waving to the camera. It was so surreal for you to think that Jimin ended up with her high school boyfriend while you were twenty-three and still pining over yours.

“Have you seen it?” Jimin squealed over the sound of the baby’s giggling. A TV in the background could be heard, the voices speaking Japanese. “The first episode just came out!”

“Seen what? What are you talking about? It’s literally only ten in the morning here.”

“Sunghoon’s anime! It’s so good!”

Your heart stopped pumping for a split second as you heard the double saccharine syllables of his name. The little communication you had with him while you were gone were only simple, fond exchanges over congratulations. The last you’d heard from him, he’d gotten a job at a big animation studio. Of course he was too humble to tell you everything. “What… What's it about?”

“It’s a romance. Everyone in the world is assigned a soulmate and the main characters experience a lot of crazy shit the closer they get to each other. Sorry the summary’s so bad, I promise it’s way better than I just made it sound.”

Soulmates, huh?

— 

It has been said that the atoms of the universe have been rearranged to create the world as it is known now. Should that be true, two people can be born of the same star and not realize it until the moment presents itself.

You knew Sunghoon was there before you even saw him in the crowd. The air suddenly felt different, like you’d just dragged your bare feet through carpet and was just millimeters away from touching a brass doorknob.

On normal competition days you would have attributed the charged atmosphere to nerves or the ten-thousand volt energy of the spectators cheering on their favorite skater. But it wasn’t a normal competition day, unless the winter Olympics in Seattle was just some regular thing. 

You knew it: Sunghoon had made it out of Japan this time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in third place, USA: Allison Steadmeyer!”

Cue music. Polite wave. Applause.

“In second place, Russia: Irina Khodorkhovsky!”

Music. Wave. Applause.

“In first place, Japan: Y/N!”

The single cheer of one person drowned out the rest.

“Why did you walk away from me?” you asked quietly; anyone around would have chalked up your tears as those of victory, of making a comeback worthy of an Oscar-nominated film. That was because they couldn’t feel the way you instinctively latched onto Sunghoon like an oxygen atom receiving its electron pairing. “Why didn’t you go with me?”

“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams,” Sunghoon said into the apple scent of your hairspray. You trembled in his arms, the dazzling Swarovski crystals of your midnight blue spandex dress digging through the wool of his coat. “I knew I would only be a bother to you in the end.”

“Liar.” Tears swam in your vision, blurring his face until he was only the galaxy of vanilla and cinnamon you saw every night behind your eyelids. “Didn’t you know? Didn’t you know that you were a part of them?”

“No.”

You were even stronger by then. The first time you ever tried to physically push him away, he was confessing his love for you. This time, he stumbled backward, albeit only by one step. “Liar!”

“I’m sorry. You know I love you and that hasn’t changed. I just wanted you to be free, I didn’t want to be a burden on you. But it seems as though we’re really meant to be together. I didn’t do what I did to hurt you. I tried so hard to make it not hurt. ”

“What do you mean?”

“As long as I tried to be happy, I figured that you would feel it, too. You know, like what Jongseong said when we were younger. We’re connected. But it was difficult. Every day, I felt you missing me as much as I missed you.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That even if we were across the entire fucking universe, we’d still be tied together. And nothing could come between that. I know it now, and I’m sorry.”

“I never want to hear you apologize to me ever again,” you mumbled.

— 

“Y/N?” 

You were lying on your hotel bed, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder as his hand aimlessly played with your hair that was still wavy from being knotted in a tight bun for your performance that day.

One side of your face was pressed against where his heart beat in synchronization with yours. “Yes?”

“Did you ever feel… alone?”

You shook your head. “No. Just lonely.”

“Do you still feel it now?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

He pressed a kiss to the bony ridges of your knuckles. “And I’m never leaving unless it’s with you.”

a/n: surprise surprise! y'all thought SSV was gonna be my debut on here? well i lied. here's arguably one of the saddest things i've written so far besides that one angst i wrote in stella's dms last week. i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it. thank you to nia for encouraging me to post this :D taglist: @karinasbaby @enha-stars @intromortal @heeslomll @venomhee @heeheeswifey

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 05 | myg

part five: new year's eve

Summary: The timer is counting down and it's finally time to confront Yoongi.

<part four

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 12.2k

—a/note: hi friends!!! i know i said i was going to go crazy with the word count but i had to divide the chapter because this part was going to have 25k words otherwise?? anyway!!! i went through ten different mental breakdows while writing this, i doubted myself like fifty times, but i enjoyed writing it sososo much, i hope you enjoy reading it as well!! like always, you are invited to discuss this part in the asks, feedback is always welcomed 🤠.

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve. 

You had lost count of the amount of times Minnie rolled her eyes, groaned or threw her hands in the air in the last two hours, but you were sure it was the same amount of times that you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to remain calm. She was sitting at the desk of your room, finishing her make-up for the New Year’s party as she listened to you list every detail of the last time you saw Yoongi, two days ago. 

Minnie, not minding being hyperbolic, openly expressed that she thought that “Yoongi was a psychopath” for inviting to watch When Harry Met Sally, a movie whose main premise were two friends who are in love with each other but do not realize it. Then she proceeded to call him similar things, like he was crazy for grabbing your hand on the way home and borderline insane for not kissing you when he left you at the door of your home. You tried to agree with her, but you were too busy trying to keep your food down, fearing that you might vomit at the thought of confronting Yoongi tonight. 

Needless to say, you were nervous. You had promised Minnie that, for your own sake, you would finally tell Yoongi to stop playing games and tell you what he really wanted with you tonight. You invited him to the party, hoping he would turn you down, thinking he probably had better plans with other friends, but he said yes, and now you were obligated to stand up to him. 

“This is not my size.” You complained, observing yourself in the mirror as you pulled from the hem of your dress, attempting to cover your butt. 

Your friend looked away from the tiny mirror in her hands to scan your body. You turned around, showing her the tiny black dress she let you borrow. 

Minnie looked at you like you were joking. “It literally fits you like a glove.” She said, standing up from her seat to take a better look at you. 

The dress was fine, it hugged your waist, your hips and every good part of your body, but you were too aware of it, you weren’t used to wearing dresses like this. 

“What about my boobs?” You asked, covering up your chest with your hands.

“What about them? They look beautiful!” She exclaimed, and grabbed your hands to out them away.

You laughed “Aren’t they too out?” 

“They’re perfectly out.” She responded, taking a good look at them “Like, enough, not too much and not too little, you know? If I had your boobs, I would display them just like that.” 

You smiled like that was the biggest compliment a girl could ever hear. “Thank you Minnie.” You said, a little more relieved “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“You would be completely lost, I’m telling you.” She said, grabbing her jacket from her bed and her bag “Are we ready to go now?”

You reached for your phone, hoping to find a message from Yoongi saying that he was already here but it was not necessary, a second later you heard the motor of his car being parked in front of your house. 

“That’s him.” You informed your friend, making her jump in her place like a little kid. 

“Fine, let’s waste no time.” 

You grabbed your jacket, already knowing it would be of no use in the freezing cold of the night, and left your house to meet Yoongi. 

When you closed the door, you heard Minnie let out a little gasp, which made you look up at her.

"What?" you asked her, feeling her elbow dig into your ribs as she pointed at the sidewalk with her chin.

You turned around, meeting the sight of Yoongi, casually leaned over his car as he waited for you in the dark night. He was wearing his long black coat with his signature shirt, this time in black, his hair was slightly messy, the way you’ve always liked, and when he caught the first glimpse of your face he smiled, waving at you. 

“Oh, my…” Minnie sighed, bringing her hand up to her face, fanning herself.  “Is that the man who’s taking you home tonight?” 

"Shut up," You muttered through gritted teeth, waving back at Yoongi. 

“Is your mom coming home tonight, sweetheart?” She kept going “If I were you, I would tell her to stay somewhere else. You know, in case you and your boy…”

“Minnie, he’s gonna hear you.” You warned her, but she just laughed. 

Still, in the back of your mind, you considered Minnie’s concern; no, your mom wasn’t coming home tonight, but you didn’t need to be thinking about that at all. 

“Looking nice, ladies.” said Yoongi as you were making your way to his car.

“Likewise, gentleman.” Minnie answered “Do we have a resolution for the new year?”

Yoongi smirked, “Yes, we do.”

Your friend clicked her tongue, winking at you both and got into the back seat of Yoongi’s car, leaving the two of you alone. 

There was a moment of silence, like he was waiting to hear the sound of the car door closing, and then, he whistled. “You’re all dolled up.” He noted, sneaking his hand under your jacket and grabbing you by your waist over your dress, pulling you closer to him. 

“Is that bad?” You frowned, pretended to be annoyed. 

“Maybe.” He considered “What if someone tries to steal my date?” 

You snorted, softly punching his chest. “Oh, shut up.” You sassed “I can’t get rid of you, I’ve tried already.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip, failing to hide a smile. “You look very pretty, that’s all I’m saying.” 

By now, you’d think you could handle these kinds of comments—his lingering touches, or the way his eyes seemed to silently ask for a kiss—but you couldn’t. Your heart still jumped, your palms still grew sweaty, and your face still burned. Yet, you forced a smile as if you’d heard it a thousand times from countless men, as if he was nothing special.

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You patted him on the back, pulling away from him to go around the car to the passenger seat. 

Yoongi’s gaze trailed over you as he turned to face you across the roof of the car, his eyes following every movement.

“By the way,” He wondered, stopping you before you could open the door “What do you mean that you’ve tried?”

You stopped for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, but you were immediately reminded of your previous comment. How clueless he was, he had no idea the amount of times you tried to exile him from your life with no success, the thought of him always crawled back to you as if he belonged there. Tonight you should be in your bed, or going to some other party to drink your weight in alcohol to try to fulfill the purpose of banishing him from your mind, but, like a thousand times before, you were with him. 

You ignored his question, bursting into laughter as you got inside the car. 

Yoongi stood there for a moment, hearing the echoes of your laugh across the street, tempted to chase the sound. What a shame, if you hadn't gotten into the car so quickly, you might have seen the stars reflecting in his eyes, the look that only a fool would mistake for anything other than love.

Present

The thing about small towns like yours was that they hardly ever changed—like the park in front of Minnie’s apartment, with its wooden benches and the path of trees leading to the fountain in the center, which had stopped working years ago. The never changing look of your hometown was one of the main things that made you want to leave it behind, it was ridiculous to admit how relieved you were now that everything was still the same as the last time you were here. 

You set your bags down on the floor of your friend’s home and gazed out the window, watching the wind drag yellow and orange leaves, swirling them across the street until they crashed against the tall wooden doors of a building you recognized as The Alley. You remembered how, when you were younger, Minnie used to live fifteen minutes from there, but once she became an adult, she jumped at the chance to move directly across the street, staying as close as she could. You figured that people in small towns hardly ever changed either.

There was not much difference between the Minnie you knew when you were a teenager and the Minnie you knew in the present, she was still always at The Alley, except she was the one who called the shots nowadays. Over the years she gained the trust of the owners and now she was in charge of keeping everything in order, helping organize every activity and every area every day of the week, so you frowned when you saw that it was closed, especially in October, which was the most exciting month in The Alley; the Halloween plays, the Halloween movies and the Halloween parties were your favorite part of the year. 

“Is The Alley closed?” You asked, turning around to see Minnie as she stuck her head in her fridge trying to look for something to eat. Your friend let you stay at her apartment for as long as you needed; it was the least she could do, considering she always crashed at your place in the city and acted like it was her own whenever she had to work there. 

“Uh… yeah. It’s a whole thing.” She sighed. “It has all of us stressed out.”

“Why, what happened?” You walked over to her, sitting on one of the stools of her kitchen. 

“The building’s having some issues with its infrastructure for some time now and it’s costing a lot of money.” She explained, grabbing a cup of yogurt and a spoon to place it in front of you as if that were dinner. “We thought it was just a few things, like the electricity and the plumbing, but the more we look into it, the more problems we find.”

Your frown deepened, more confused than before. The Alley had been an old building for years and years, there was always a thing or two that had to be repaired, but you never thought it was that bad. “That’s why it’s closed?” You continued to ask. 

“That’s not the only reason. We had three inspections since the beginning of the year and none of them looked any good, we’re suspecting the town council might want to close it.” She rolled her eyes, but you could feel the hurt in her words. 

“Close it?” You repeated it, feeling something stung in your chest “Just like that? Is it that bad?” 

“Well, yes.” She affirmed, trying to appear composed but the discouragement filled her voice “Unless we fix the whole place, of course, but the repairs cost too much, so it’s going to take some time.”

“That sounds ridiculous, Minnie. What does Sid think?” You inquired. Sid was one of the owners of The Alley and the only one who was active in the community, he trusted Minnie with the management of the place more than anyone else. 

“That prick.” She bitterly spat “Don’t even mention him, he’s acting like a jerk lately, he’s too old and too tired of running the place, he’s leaving everything to me. I’m trying to handle it with some other people but it’s too much. That’s why we’re closed, we’re opening just three days a week but that’s slowing down the process of collecting money.” 

“Oh, Minnie. That’s horrible.” You lamented “Why am I just finding out about this now? Why didn't you tell me anything?” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She tried to wave off “You were busy and too sad to hear any of my problems, I didn’t want to bother with stupid stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” You said, shaking your head “It’s not stupid, are you nuts? I could never be too busy or sad to hear you. How come you’ve been carrying all of this without telling me?”

The feeling of guilt flooded your chest, filling with regret your whole body. You knew you were being a bad sister and a bad daughter, but you didn’t realize you were being a bad friend as well. If closing The Alley sounded horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine how bad must’ve felt for Minnie, who had dedicated most of her life to the place.”

“I mean it, baby, you don’t have to feel bad.” She assured you, squeezing your hand “My head’s been a mess lately, I was going to tell you eventually.”

“But it’s not okay, Minnie.” You insisted. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling, I mean, The Alley is your whole life, there has to be another way.”

“Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself, there has to be another way! And I’m trying to think of one, but when I think I’m close to finding a solution, my head starts to smoke.” She huffed. 

You felt your heart clenching, Minnie was always trying to see the good side of things, you’ve never seen her so let down about something, especially something she cared about deeply. You both went silent, processing all the information for a minute. You wished you could do something, not only for your friend, but for the place where you had grown up, you couldn’t phantom the idea of The Alley disappearing, it was home of so many outcasts, it was your home for most of your teenage years, you felt like part of you was still on those walls. 

“Have you thought about talking with a lawyer?” You asked, like some lightbulb lighted up above your head. “You know, I can talk with my brother if you’d like, he could help you save time.”

Minnie’s expression suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and slightly opened her mouth in surprise, but it wasn’t because of your offering, it was for something else, you just didn’t know what.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary.” She rushed to say. 

“How come it is not necessary?” You questioned. “Minnie, a lawyer is essential for this kind of stuff. I’m sure that Simon could give you some advice, if the situation is not good he could arrange a meeting with the council or something like that.”

You could see her doubting, the hesitating look on her face, looking at her hands as she tried to say something but couldn’t.

“You know that money is not a problem, I could talk to him about it.” You insisted, assuming that money was the reason for her doubt, she already said that they were struggling with the repair, you assumed that hiring a lawyer was too expensive to even consider. 

Minnie pursed her lips, “It’s not about the money, actually.” She said, looking away from you. “And thank you, baby, it’s just that… uhm, we already consulted a lawyer.” 

You sat straight in your chair “Oh, really?” You uttered, surprised. “What did they say?”

Your friend stood up from her seat, wandering around the kitchen while looking for something in the cabinets “He’s going through the documents for now, handling the legal stuff.” She trailed off, and you felt she was leaving something out. No, you didn’t understand a thing about law, but you could use a bit more information about the situation.  

“How did you meet him?” You asked, curious. “Do you know if he’s any good? You know, I don’t trust lawyers.”

Your comment meant to be a joke, but the girl in front of you didn’t seem to catch it. Her tone suddenly changed  “The only reason we have a lawyer is because it is a voluntary thing, so we don’t have to pay him. Otherwise, we would be lost, we couldn’t possibly afford a lawyer.” She went on, avoiding your question. 

“A voluntary thing? You mean he is doing it for free?” You frowned, dismissing the fact that she didn’t answer what you asked, or even laughed at your attempt at a joke. “Why?”

“He’s from… here and really likes the place, I guess.” 

“He’s from here and really likes the place?” You repeated, confused, you didn’t know many lawyers, but you were sure that was not reason enough to work for free. Minnie just hummed, not caring much to explain. “Do I know him?” The question resonated in the room, followed by a dead silence. As your friend pretended to be busy, taking the glasses out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their place, your words hung in the air, unanswered. “Minnie?”

“Yes?” You heard her voice. 

“Who is he?” You asked again, but your gut told you that you already had an answer for that.

She turned back, looking at you with a warning look. “If I tell you, are you going to be mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” You questioned, already feeling upset. You knew way too many reasons to be mad at that question.

“I’m not telling you, then.” She said, taking your answer as a yes.

“If you don’t tell me who you hired as a lawyer, I will start screaming.” You threatened like a little kid, pointing at her with the spoon as if it were a gun. 

“Okay, no need to scream.” She tried to persuade you.

“Minnie…” 

“I’ll tell you, but you must know that it wasn’t my decision alone.” Minnie took a step back from you, with her hands in the air. “And that I would have never said yes if we had to pay him, we barely have any money! How could I say no? Besides, he helps on the weekends with the repairs, he’s great with plumbing and everyone likes him, the guys adore him, the girls love him, everyone had already agreed before I could say a word, you understand-?

“Minnie!” You stopped her, waving your hands in the air “You are rambling, what are you saying?”

The redhead in front of you took a deep breath, composing herself. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She breathed out “It’s just that Yoongi offered to advise us for free, and then he went on to…-”

The name ringed in your ears the same way it did when you mother mentioned the dinner the other night, the same way it did when you brother couldn’t stop mentioning his name the night you stayed at his house, the same way his voice interrupted the silence when he came looking for you in your mother’s backyard, only this time it came from your best friend’s mouth.

“Yoongi!?” You suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “What do you mean by Yoongi!?”

Minnie took another step back, afraid that you would use the spoon in your hand to take her eyes out. 

“God, don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded, with her hands clasped together and her fingers intertwined as if she was begging for forgiveness.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head in disbelief. One thing was not to tell you of the fact that the town wanted to close The Alley because she was stressed and too tired to talk about it, and a completely different thing was not telling you that Yoongi, the only man who ever broke your heart, was involved, trying to ignore the fact that it was the place where you grew up. You couldn’t believe your friend didn’t tell you that Yoongi was trying to help to save the place that was directly connected to you and him. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” 

“No, that was not the reason.” She tried to deny, but the second you raised an eyebrow, she backtracked “I mean, not at first, but I was telling the truth!”

“Half the truth!” You accused her. 

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, resigned. “Half the truth, I admit it.”

“But why?” You insisted.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” She cried “ I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t like the idea of him being involved in it.”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound thrilling, but I would want to know that it was happening, I don’t care if Yoongi was helping you with it.”

“I know, I know…” She trailed off, but there was still something she was keeping from you. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, she didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “It’s just…”

“What?” You kept asking “C’mon, Minnie… You don’t seriously think I’m still hurt by it, do you?”

The words came out of your mouth afraid to sound unsure, and the look she gave you finished to confirm it.

“Well, no-”

“Are you kidding? It’s been years, how could you think I’m still resentful?”

She raised an eyebrow the same way you did a second ago to accuse her, wondering if you were joking or not. “Don’t play dumb with me, you hate his guts.”

“I don’t hate his guts.” You scoffed, doing a very bad job at lying. In front of you there was the same woman who saw you crying for Yoongi all those years ago, the only person who you could talk shit about him with, you couldn’t pretend you were suddenly the most forgiving person when she was the only one who knew how much he hurt you. 

Minnie laughed, making it clear that she didn’t believe you one word. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, maybe I still hate his guts.” You conceded “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate him.”

You could feel Minnie’s eyes scanning every feature of your face, you could feel the weight of her doubt in the air. How could you convince her that you weren’t annoyed by Yoongi helping her when you didn’t even know the answer yourself? “Is that right?” She said, taking a step closer to you. You just nodded, but you didn’t know if that was even true. “So you wouldn’t mind, let’s say, being in the same room as him?”

“Of course not.” You replied right away, trying to appear confident. “Wasn’t I in the same room as him just a few days ago?”

“Yes, you were, you’re right.” She acknowledged “In that case, let’s say I believe you.”

“Yes, because I’m telling the truth.” You said in the same condescending tone she was using.

“And let’s say that I believe that you are more than capable of putting aside everything that happened between you and Yoongi just for the sake of The Alley.”

“That’s right.” You nodded, with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“And if I were to ask you to help me with The Alley because you’re famous and you would help us raise a bunch of money, would you say yes even if Yoongi is there, helping too?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh escaped you, thinking she was joking. But as you scanned her face for even the slightest hint of jest, a cold realization settled in your gut—she was completely serious.

“You have to call my agent for that kind of stuff, you know that?” You tried to joke, but she was not backing down. 

“I’m not joking!” She pleaded “I was planning to ask you for a long time, but I didn’t know that you would want to do it since Yoongi is always around, but if you’re telling me you don’t care about him…”

You close your eyes shut. “It’s not only Yoongi- I mean, it’s not about him at all” You corrected yourself “I would love to help The Alley in all the ways I can, but I’m not sure if I want to play the superstar role right now.”

She nodded, immediately understanding “It’s fine, I get it, but I’m not asking you to play the superstar role, I’m asking you to be the girl I knew all my life, the one who’s passionate about theater and loves The Alley as much as me.”

A genuine smile spread across your face, feeling a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. “And the girl who’s also famous and would help you raise a bunch of money?”

She scoffed, “Well, you happen to be all of that too, isn’t that great?” You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Look, I’m not saying that you should say yes right now, but you should at least go with me this friday and I can show you some of my ideas, what do you say?”

Friday was just four days away, that was not enough time for you to decide anything, but because you loved Minnie, and you loved The Alley, and honestly, because you didn’t have anything better to do, you agreed to think about it, only for now. “Fine, Friday it is.”

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve. 

The last night of the year always felt as if something was about to change, even if it never did. You clung to that feeling of hope, as if time were real, as if the sun and the stars ruled your life and you weren’t the only one capable of controlling it, at least that way you weren’t able to blame yourself for feeling like something was missing when you came home at six in the morning, drunk and hopeless. 

Change, future, and love were becoming curse words in your vocabulary, and if you saw a shooting star tonight, you would wish to forget any meaning you had ever learned about them. But if you stood in the street tonight, shaking in the cold winter air as you looked up at the dark sky, waiting for someone to give you all the answers, you feared your life would be wasted. Your life wasn’t ruled by the stars, it was ruled by you, it was about time for you to realize.

Tonight you didn’t need the universe to tell you what to do, what you needed was a drink or two to gather the courage to confront Yoongi, but the second you entered the silver room with the silver lights, you heard some sappy song from the 2000’s and for a second you almost forgot about his hands holding yours, or perhaps you were just desperately trying to. 

“C’mon,” He called you, grabbing your hand to walk you to the dance floor “you must dance! Or they’ll kick you out.” 

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people to reach the center of the dance floor. The room was packed, it smelled like cigarettes, weed and perfume mixed together, there was a huge contrast between the cold weather outside and the heavy and humid air from inside. Minnie was lost somewhere else, she was part of the committee that organized the party and wanted to check that everything was exactly as she planned it, so you and Yoongi were now alone, again. 

Time spent with Minnie had a way of dissolving the anxieties that once clung to you when you first visited The Alley after coming home, you were no longer afraid of being recognized, in fact, when you came here the other day to watch When Harry Met Sally and some old friends recognized you, you didn’t try to run away, you took a second to hug them and catch up, you were also surprised to find out that none of them hated you like your imagination made you believe they did. Turns out, people grow up and grow apart and there was nothing bad with that. It was always a desire of yours to run away from this town, but only if you could make sure that you could return to The Alley anytime you wanted, it was a relief to know that now you could. 

You had missed it, the parties, the music, the ten disco balls on the ceiling and those moments where the room was so dark no one could see how badly you were dancing, except those few lights that were were still shining in your eyes the same way your dress did every time Yoongi twirled you around. He didn’t miss any of that, he was paying attention, he observed your eyes, your nose, your lips, the way the straps of your dress rested gently on your collarbones, your body and your waist, his hands on your hips, how he couldn’t keep them away from you and how you wished you could just ignore it.

Yoongi was not shy, he was never shy when you were alone and tonight, even if you were in a room full with people, it felt like you were. He was dancing like you were the only one watching him, he laughed, he winked at you and drew you closer to him to whisper things in your ear in the middle of songs. You danced in the only way you knew: shamelessly, and when Yoongi said he needed some air you promised him to go outside with him for a moment, you were sweaty, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you knew you needed to check your lipstick in a mirror, but only after finishing dancing to Rock ‘N’ Roll Star by Oasis. 

If there was a way in the universe that could stop the turmoil of your mind, that would be dancing, and it was working like a charm.

When the song was about to end, you began making your way out of the dance floor, but you immediately changed your mind when you heard the first chords of Sex on Fire blasting from the speakers. You stopped in your tracks, yanking Yoongi’s hand and making his body crash into yours. 

“Stop!” You yelled “We can’t not dance to this song.”

“Pinky…” He whined, trying to complain, but you were already beginning to walk backwards, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You have to dance with me!” You insisted “You know this one!”

His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that could only promise trouble. 

How lucky you were that Minnie wasn’t around. If she had seen the way you were looking at Yoongi at that moment, she would have slapped you in the face to snap you out of it. You were aware that you had an initial plan and that you weren’t anywhere near to pulling it off, you were aware that you were running off of excuses and that time wasn’t going to be on your side for much longer, but was it too much to ask for a few more moments like this? Those glimpses of something else, those evanescent instants where you didn’t have to wonder why you were dancing to this song with someone who was supposed to be your friend, with his lips threatening to brush with yours, his fingertips on your back, and his gaze fixed on you. You could hear your heart begging you to kiss him and your mind pleading you not to, but the only thing you understood was the way Yoongi sang each word to your face, so close you could explode. 

You giggled and jumped to the rhythm of the song and sang back, forgetting all the words you practiced with Minnie, and all the things Minnie said and all the things you promised to do tonight. If you were to put an end to this now, you could at least have this moment. 

“What is that?” Yoongi asked, observing you approaching him with a drink in your hands. 

Going back to your own words, you hadn’t had much to drink tonight, you were too busy dancing or maybe it was the unbearable knot in your stomach that didn’t allow you to even think of alcohol before ending up throwing up. Ultimately, you decided to stay sober, this was only your second drink of the night and it was offered by Minnie, who you just encountered at the bar a few minutes ago. She yelled at the bartender, ordering a drink for both you and Yoongi. With a wink, she added two straws to the cup and playfully nudged you back towards the dance floor.

“It’s sex on the beach.” You mumbled without making eye contact with him. At least no one could say Minnie wasn’t funny. “A present from Minnie.” 

“Two straws?” Yoongi said, leaning forward to sip the drink through one of the straws. “Isn’t she a matchmaker?” 

Well, he had no idea. 

“Buddy, if you want another drink you should buy it yourself.” You scoffed, drinking from the other straw. “You are the one who’s been drinking water the whole night.”

“I have plenty of things that I need to do tonight, I have to be sober.” 

“Plenty of things?” You questioned “Like what?”

You joined Yoongi as he leaned against the wall, holding the cup between the two of you. 

“Like driving you home.” He replied “What would Lila say about me if I show up drunk.”

“You never get drunk. You have the highest tolerance.” You laughed. “And even if you did, my mom would say that I was the one who got you drunk.”

“And maybe it would be true,” he snarked, leaning in with a playful grin, his lips brushing close to your ear. “I would tell her that you forced me to dance so much that the only way I could keep up was by drinking all the beer from the bar.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you huffed, digging your elbow into his ribs to push him away. “But I bet she would believe anything you say.”

Yoongi smiled, cocky “I bet she would, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of the drink before feeling your throat slightly burning. “What’s up with the slow music?”

You looked around, seeing a few couples slowly dancing in the middle of the room. The lights were red and Fade Into You by Mazzy Star was playing softly, the dance floor was less packed, you thought it could only mean it was about to be midnight. 

You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist to draw it closer to your face so you could check the hour on his watch. “It’s about to be midnight.” You announced. “They start playing love songs before midnight.”

“Why love songs?” He questioned.

 “So you can find the person you want to give your first kiss of the year.”

“Isn’t that a bit cheesy?” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Of course it is.” You said, chucking  “That’s the point.”

Yoongi nodded and set his cup down on a nearby table, extending his hand toward you. “Fine, let’s dance then.”

You observed his hand extended to you, a bit hesitant. “You slow dance, too?” 

“Tonight I do.” He revealed. You had no other option but to take his hand.

You’ve never been to a New Year’s party at The Alley, but since Minnie was heavily involved in the preparations you knew a thing or two about how it went down. When the lights turned yellow and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer suddenly began playing, you knew you were just a few minutes away from the New Year. 

You had never been much of a slow dancer, so you were not sure what to do, but Yoongi seemed to have no problem with it, he led the way without making you look pathetic. You knew he had more experience with romantic scenarios than you, and even if you’d had your share of romantic relationships, it all went down to boring boyfriends, bad boyfriends, and boys who didn’t want to be your boyfriend at all. As he laid his hands on your waist and his soft gaze upon you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a romantic moment at all—nothing had ever been as close as this.

“So… did you have fun?” You asked him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

“I am having fun.” He emphasized, “Why are you asking as if the night is already ending?” 

“I don’t know.” You said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I guess because... I always get the feeling that you’re about to slip away.”

He raised an eyebrow, moving slowly to the rhythm, pulling you with him. “Slip away?” he wondered.

“Oh, you know, you’re the kind of guy who slips away.” You smiled softly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face.

“I don’t know what that means.” He laughed.

“I mean… the guy who people always expect but always leaves early.” You tried to explain, but that didn’t do much for Yoongi’s understanding.

“Do you think I always leave early?” He inquired, making you laugh. 

“You leave early sometimes.” You confirmed “Most times.” 

“Well, I don’t quite enjoy parties.” He confessed, but you already knew that. When you were younger, you always followed Simon to parties. He tried so hard not to get annoyed at his little sister; annoying him was supposed to be your job. And as fun as it sounded, you were never really there for Simon, but to catch a glimpse of his best friend. Of course you soon learned that hanging out with Yoongi at your house was much more entertaining than observing him flirting with the prettiest girl of the party just to watch him leave with her an hour later. If you ever found Yoongi at a party, it was most likely because Simon dragged him to it, you guessed you weren’t so different from your brother. 

“What about this one?” You teased him “Are you leaving this party early?” 

 “Mmm, no.” He shook his head “I won’t be disappearing tonight.”

“Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “What’s different tonight?” 

For an instant, Yoongi's gaze drifted around the room, as though searching for a reason to stay, before finally settling back on you.

“You, maybe.” He asserted calmly, his voice steady.

You laughed nervously, feeling your chest tighten. “What about me?” 

“Nothing, you look really pretty.” He simply said. “I wouldn’t leave a party if you’re looking this pretty.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat “Yoongi…” you whispered, but he could hear your voice just right. 

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Stop that…” Your voice came out weak as you placed a hand on his chest, attempting to create some distance between your body and his. Yet, with his hand resting on your lower back, he gently drew you closer once again.

“Stop what?” he dared to ask,

That—this, whatever you had going on, whatever was happening between you and him—had gotten to a point of no return. All the cards seemed to be on the table, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to it. Yes, you could see it, you could feel it, but you were still afraid.

“Nothing, never mind,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“C’mon, tell me,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek with one hand. A teasing smirk danced on his lips, making you want to punch him, but the hand you meant to push him away with gradually glided down his chest instead.

“That thing you’ve been doing.” You murmured, tilting your head to lean into his touch.

“What?” He scoffed, “What thing I’ve been doing?” 

“Exactly that.” You pointed out. “Stop playing dumb with me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a mocking tone on his voice. 

You slightly punch his chest with your fist “That, too.” You pouted, feeling his thumb grazing over your jaw. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, stop that.” 

“Am I doing that?” He smirked, the amusement in his eyes clear as he watched for your reaction.  “How exactly?” 

“Don’t piss me off…” You threatened, as if your threats had any value when you were wrapped in his arms, when your voice sounded so weak.

“You’re incredible, really.” He said “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to drive me crazy?”

You blinked, clearly not grasping the situation.

“What are you talking about?” You demanded to know. 

Yoongi bit his lip, holding back a smile “Pinky…” He said like it was obvious, but everything was a blur, a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you. 

“Yoongi…” You spoke in the same tone as him. 

“What? Am I insane or am I just imagining you pulling me in just to push me away later?” His words didn’t sound harsh, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice. You couldn’t help but frown deeply, bewildered. 

“Are you serious? I’m not doing that.” You said, feeling your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The truth was that you weren’t even sure if you were doing that or not, but you were not willing to admit it. “You’re the one playing games with me.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial “I’m not playing any games with you.” 

“Really?” You snickered, bitterly, but he was quick to deny it. “Not one?” 

“No, not one.” He assured you, confidently.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What games am I playing, you say?” 

“You know what I’m talking about.” You tried to dismiss it, too embarrassed to say it out loud. 

“You are not being very communicative with me, Pinky.” 

You scrunched your nose, it was only a matter of time for him to start annoying you “You…-” 

“I?...”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what you did.” 

“I actually, no, I don’t know what I did.” He jested. 

“Yoongi, you tried to kiss me!” You blurted out, your words tumbling over each other. “Before Christmas, you tried to kiss me and a second later you acted like nothing happened.”

“No-” He tried to defend himself, but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“Yes! You acted like I imagined everything.” You kept accusing, “You keep leaving me stranded, wondering if I just went mad!” 

You felt your heart racing with each word you spoke, but Yoongi was unphased, completely calm, you could even see a glimpse of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“Pinky, I did want to kiss you.” He admitted with a tranquil smile, as if sharing a simple truth “You weren’t imagining it, I wanted to kiss you so many times, I still do.”

It was like someone was playing a bad joke on you; the proximity of his face, the weight of his words, his gentle touch all over your body, it only made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, you felt like you were floating in the air in a different dimension, because this could not be real. It was like a force of habit, you couldn’t believe something good was happening to you even if it was right in front of your face.

“Then, why didn’t you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, surprised that you had mustered the courage to wonder that out loud. “Why didn’t you come looking for me after?”

“I always come back to you, are you kidding?” he replied, chuckling softly, though his gaze held an unexpected seriousness. “But you looked horrified, that day in your grandmother’s house you stormed out, you ran away, what was I supposed to do?”

You couldn’t recall that day without feeling a chill running down your whole body. The sole memory of your bodies pressing against each other, his deep voice, his dark eyes and the embarrassing moment when you had to open the door to find your mother standing there was enough to keep you awake at night. The only option you had was to run away, you thought it was only logical, but now you felt your whole face burning red as Yoongi accused you of running away from him.

“Well, because you…! “ you dug your finger into his chest, exasperatedly trying to find the right words to put on a good fight. “You confuse me!”

“Do I?” He mocked you. “Am I confusing you?”

“Yes, you do!” you argued, ignoring his implications “You say and do all these things, you grab my hand, ask me to run away with you, you try to kiss me and then-“ 

“And then what?” He snapped, making you swallow your words “And then I give in, don’t I?”

“No!” You protested, squinting your eyes. “You disappear, you come back, you leave, you leave me hanging, you confuse me. How can I know what it is when I don’t know what you want, when it seems that you don’t even know what you want?”

“I’m not trying to confuse you, I know exactly what I want.” He laughed without humor. 

“And what’s that?” You demanded, frustration boiling over.

“Pinky, I know that there have been people around you that tried to make you believe that you weren’t good enough, but that it’s simply not me.” He said “I want you, is that so difficult to believe?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a mess. “That’s not- Thats…!” Your words tangled, and now you were barely making any sense.

“That’s the truth, I grab your hand, try to kiss you and when you push me away I come back home just to dream of you all night, convincing myself that I’m not completely insane.” He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, as if begging you to understand.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His confession was overwhelming, every word sinking into your chest. You felt your head spinning, you couldn’t process all those words, not when your heart was threatening to escape from your chest and his hands were still on your face, demanding you to look at him. 

“Because that’s what I’ve been doing since last summer, asking myself if I lost my head” He continued “And, Pinky, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to be okay with it. Because I would rather watch you all night wearing that dress, wishing that I could take it off, than having nothing at all.” 

A lump formed in your throat, your breath hitching as you tried to form a response, but no words came. You simply gulped, utterly speechless, trapped between disbelief and the wild beating of your heart.

“Yoongi…” you whined, barely managing to get his name past your lips. The words you needed were nowhere to be found.

And then, in the least convenient moment, the countdown started, the room filling with the sound of people shouting numbers.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? What should I do, hm?” His lips grazed over yours, so soft that it felt like a question in itself.

“I can’t handle this,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself. “This is too much. I can’t.”

He paused, his eyes searching yours, and then, as if trying to make sense of the situation, he asked softly, “Should I turn around and leave?”

You shook your head, quickly, repeatedly, without a second thought.

“Tell me, then.” He pressed, his voice almost a plea.

Still caught in the hazy blur of the moment, you could hear the countdown approaching its end, yet he still hadn’t pulled away. It felt as if you were under a spell, frozen in place, unable to move. You were breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the lights and the music and the people chanting, overwhelmed by his words, his body and his gaze fixed on your lips. The fleeting feeling that you were dreaming hit you for a second, but when everyone around you started counting four, that thought quickly vanishedYou heard three, and the realization that he was waiting for your response hit you like a bolt of lightning. You heard two and you got the feeling that if you didn’t do anything about it now, you wouldn’t do anything about it ever, you heard one and, against every rational thought, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him. 

It was not a soft kiss, it was rushed, rough and messy. You closed your fists around his shirt, pulling him closer as he opened his mouth to search for your tongue in desperation, the way his fingers gripped your hips burned right through your clothes, driving you to the edge. You could hear people yelling and laughing, you could hear the fireworks outside, the song that started right after the countdown, but you were completely absorbed by him, by his lips, by the way he held you, no one had ever kissed you with such determination, with such dedication. 

You had spent years dreaming about kissing Yoongi, but you never thought it would be like this—like your lips fitted just right with each other, as if in this universe he was made only for you. The moment was electric, igniting a fire deep within you, and all the doubts and fears that had held you back melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sweetness of his breath against your skin.

His feet carried him to the nearest wall, dragging you along until he pinned you against it, never breaking the kiss. For a fleeting moment, he pulled back to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on your lips before he devoured them once more. His hands traveled down your back, tempted to listen to his thoughts, to touch your body in the way he really wanted. 

You laid your hand on his chest, gently pulling away “Is this what you wanted?” You whispered, excitement filling your voice.

His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even close,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement. 

There were only so many ways you could imagine the night ending, that was what you thought before leaving your house earlier tonight. If you were lucky enough, you would’ve come back home in one piece, sober and with your heart intact, that would’ve meant that you didn’t dare to take any risks, you would've let the night finish its course without rushing it, finally accepting that you were a coward. If you were unlucky, you would’ve come home crying, drunk and with your heart shattered; that would’ve meant that you did take risks, but the universe simply wasn’t ready to take your side yet. You could’ve laid in bed and fantasized all you wanted, but none of those scenarios would’ve ever looked like this one. 

As Yoongi opened the door of the entrance of his building, you caught a glimpse of the hour in the watch on his wrist. It took him half an hour and more than a few kisses to ask you to leave the party with him, two minutes to pick your jackets from the cloakroom, and only five minutes to drive to his apartment, and yet it felt like the longest car ride of your life. You thought that after twenty one years of life of never getting what you wanted, the universe should at least grant you the wish to skip the car ride to Yoongi’s apartment, because you had never felt so much tension before. You sank in the passenger seat and tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, the mere thought of being alone with Yoongi was starting to give you goosebumps; the seat belt and the fact that he had to keep both hands on the steering wheel were the only things that were keeping him away from you. 

The scenario was displayed right in front of you; he opened the door, letting you inside first and walking to the elevator with a cheeky smirk on his face. It wasn’t in your plans to leave less than an hour into the new year, and yet you were there, following the person you tried to forget so many times into his apartment, feeling like a handful of nerves.

You observed him opening the doors of the old elevator and then ran to get inside before him, crashing your back against the wall so it could keep you as far away from him as possible. You still didn’t understand what the fuck you were doing going into his apartment. 

Yoongi got in after you, staring at you like you went mad, and honestly, it kinda felt like you did. You wanted to punch him when he laughed at you as he closed the doors, curiously raising his eyebrows. “Are you running away from me?” He asked, pressing the fourth button on the wall. It only took him one step to be as close to you as he was. You breath hitched, not feeling as confident as you felt when you were surrounded by people. “Still?”

You felt the sudden shift as the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. Yoongi and his mom had always lived in the same old building. The hallway walls were a dull brown, and the elevator had heavy accordion-style metal doors that folded inward and had to be closed manually. When you pressed the button to go up or down, the whole thing shook as if it was about to break down—but it never did. The mirror inside was old and smudged, you caught his reflection in the corner of your eye but you tried to ignore it, his presence alone was making you shiver. 

You shook your head, unable to utter another word. 

“No?” He kept insisting. He was teasing you, he had been teasing you for the whole night and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. You were tired of playing nonchalant, you just wanted to kiss him again.

He took a step forward, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. His fingers found each other in the small of your back, pressing you against him and taking you by surprise when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and kissed you deeply. He slowly opened your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, making it difficult to breathe or to even think. 

You grasped his shoulders with your fingers in case he wanted to pull away but there was no need. You weren’t sure how many times you had tried to decipher whether you were caught in a dream or if this was reality, because there was no way Yoongi knew exactly how to kiss you to make every logical thought on your mind disappear, but when the elevator shook again you were pulled out of your trance, you were not dreaming, somehow this was real. 

“Who knew this was the only way to get you to shut up.” He murmured, brushing his lips against yours. 

“Fuck you.” You whispered, and you hated it because it doesn’t come out as an insult at all.

He chuckled, “Oh, there you are again.” 

He took your hand to drag you out of the elevator, leading the way to his apartment door at the end of the dark hallway. 

For Yoongi, your house was almost like his second home—but you could count only a couple of times you had been to his, like when your mom picked him up because Simon and he were going to a comic convention for the first time. You were ten, already with the worst attitude, mad that you had to go with your nerd brother and his nerd friend to some nerd convention. But when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, he took you to his room and—attempting to change your mood—showed you the keyboard his mom had gotten him for his birthday. You remembered that a few weeks prior, he had told you he was teaching himself how to play, and you asked him if he could learn "Last Night on Earth" by Green Day. That morning, before leaving, he played it for you under one condition: that you stop being mad.

When you walked through the door and saw the living room immersed in complete darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still remembered how to play the song.

“Do you still have the keyboard?” You asked, unsure how to act around him alone. The air felt heaving, and nerves were still fluttering in your stomach. You had never been nervous to be alone with a man ever; it was usually the other way around, but not with him, never with him.

Yoongi smirked, not believing you were thinking about that. “Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re thinking about my old keyboard?”

“You’re pissing me off.” You warned him, digging your finger on his chest, but he’s quick to pull you close to him again, laughing at you. You, who were always so cocky and quick-witted with your insults, now you were standing there, struggling to find a retort. There was no way you were this nervous to be alone with a man you’ve known literally all your life. 

“It’s in my room.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist. 

You swallowed, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

“I…” You tried to say, but he was still looking at you the same way he was observing you back in the car, it was probably the same way he had been looking at you during these past weeks, but you couldn’t help but feel it was different. “I didn’t mean that.” You managed to finish your sentence. 

He quietly chuckled, shaking his head “You want to see the keyboard. What else could you mean?”

You pressed your lips together, holding back the urge to curse him again. Ignoring your red cheeks, he took your hand before you could say anything back, making his way to his bedroom. 

Yoongi’s home hasn’t changed too much, except for the frames on the walls that now had pictures of a much older Yoongi, or when he graduated high school and pictures on family holidays. You took a second to look at them as you walked towards his room but you were distracted when you felt his fingers on your chin, gently turning your face towards him.

“I like that picture.” You pointed at your left, a picture your mom took when both him and Simon graduated. It was Yoongi and Nari, his mom. Yoongi had a fresh cut and some square black glasses that he changed as soon as he got into college. “I was really sad when you left.” You confessed suddenly.

You weren’t intending for your words to carry a touch of sorrow, but they still linger with a hint of sadness in the air. 

“Were you?” He murmured and you nodded.

You had always wondered what would have happened if you and Yoongi had grown up at the same time—what if it had been you instead of Simon? You wouldn't have had to see them leave together; you wouldn't have felt so disappointed when they came to visit every other weekend. Maybe you would’ve grown up less angry. You came to accept what you had, Yoongi was there for every important moment of you life; he taught you how to drive, helped you pass your math tests, he was the one who talked you out of your relationship with your asshole ex boyfriend, he was there for your graduation, to send you off to college, he was everywhere but you, on the other hand, were just a tiny piece of his life. 

He cupped your face, chasing away all those swirling thoughts as he kissed your lips softly. He walked backwards, guiding you into his room while deepening the kiss. As the door closed behind you, a quiet certainty settled in your heart: your past had led you to this moment.

You sighed, feeling the ghost of his lips when he pulled away to search for something.

The dim light of the lamp next to Yoongi’s bed didn’t do much to illuminate the room, but provided enough lighting to observe how much it changed since the last time you were there. It didn’t look like the room of a teenager anymore, most of the posters were no longer there and the action figures were replaced by books now, but his keyboard was still folded next to his closet. 

Yoongi grabbed it and carefully put it at the feet of his bed. He sat on the edge, inviting you to sit between his legs.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hesitating. “You…” 

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at your hand and guiding you to sit on his lap, your back against his chest as you faced the keyboard.

And, by the way, have you mentioned how nervous you were? You took a deep breath, dreaming, hoping, wishing he wouldn’t notice, but you were a fool if you thought Yoongi couldn’t read you like the palm of his hand. 

“Do you do this with all the girls?” You dared to ask, but the truth was that you didn’t want to know the answer. 

He kissed your exposed shoulder, resting his chin on it. “C’mon, you’re the one who asked to see the keyboard.” 

You turned your head to him, a bit offended. “Is that a yes?” 

“That was a no.” He retracted himself, he knew you well enough to know that he shouldn’t play with you unless he wanted to see you walk through the door. “What about the keyboard?” 

You decided to ignore the swift change of topic. “Do you still remember how to play?” You asked, touching the keys and jumping a bit when it sounded a bit too loud. 

“I’m a bit rusty, but sure I do.” 

“Do you remember when… I asked you to learn a song?” 

“Yes, I remember that,” He said, chuckling. “I also remember that the day I played it for you you were really pissed because your mom couldn’t find a nanny and had to hang out with me and Simon. You called me a nerd, very cruel.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “God, I was such a terrible kid back then.” 

“Well, yes, maybe.” He admitted “But you were also a really cool kid. You made us listen to My Chemical Romance the whole ride. I remember that your mom hated it, but it was the only thing that could keep you happy.”

You bursted out a laugh, remembering how big of a fan you were of My Chemical Romance, you still were. Your mom thought you were too young to be listening to that, but Simon bought you their second record for your birthday and she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she had no other option but to let you keep it.

“I don’t know how my mom put up with me,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “It probably drove her crazy.”

“Mmm, you always had that effect on people,” he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “In both good and bad ways.”

“Is that really the impression I leave on you?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. He hummed thoughtfully, admitting it without hesitation. “And in what way is it for you?”

“In both ways,” He replied, his tone light and teasing.

You bit your lips, trying to hold back a smile. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.” You said “I wanted you to play the keyboard but I rather hear you compliment how cool I am.” 

“Oh, shut up.” He huffed, gently slapping your thigh “What did you want me to play, again?” 

“The song I told you!”  You reminded him. 

“Oh, right!” He laughed, “I remember it, it was easy to learn.” He said and began to play the first chords “It reminds me of you, how could it not?” You smiled, watching his long fingers make the room full with music, you sang the song in your head, being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I want you to play it with me.”

You frowned “But I don’t know how.” 

“I know, dummy.” He replied, grinning as he halted the music and pulled his fingers away from the keys. “Like this, see?” He gently took your hands, aligning your fingers with his, his palms covering the tops of yours as he began to play.

You laughed, fully aware it sounded awful—nothing like when he played solo—but your heart had never felt so at ease. His laughter danced through your hair, his body shaking beneath you, and you lost track of when the sound might end, as if it were a never-ending loop. All you wished was for it to last forever. 

After two minutes, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing the song to a halt. “You’re good with the keys,” he joked. “Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. It felt a bit strange to be so close, but when his hands glided up and down your exposed thighs, and he looked into your star-filled eyes in the dim light, it suddenly felt just right.

His eyes were shining under the dim lights, biting his lips as he grasped your hips to keep you in place. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” He said, somehow pulling you closer “I missed you while I was gone, that’s all.”

How much? you wanted to ask him, and when, for how long? And why? You wanted to know everything, to dive into the turmoil of his mind, to see yourself through his eyes.

You wanted to make an effort to hide how easily you melted when it came to him, but then again, why hide it? If you had the chance to grab his face and kiss him, that was exactly what you should do, and that was exactly what you did. 

Your tights hugged his waist, and you tried not to flinch when his hands gripped your waist, slowly running his palms down the curve of your ass. He kissed you slowly, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating. Each movement was controlled, filled with intent, as though he was savoring every second, every breath you shared. The warmth of his lips, the soft hum of desire between you, built gradually. His fingers teased their way under your dress, but they stopped there for a moment, as if he was playing with you. He pulled away, leaving a peck on your lips. “You aren’t so shy anymore.” He teased you, brushing his nose against yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you squinted your eyes at him.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And…” his lips moved to your jaw, “…you are…” then to the curve of your neck, “…so pretty.” Taking advantage of how lost you were in the moment, he gently flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs, now hovering above you. 

Yoongi sighed, feeling completely defeated. He, more than anyone, knew how beautiful you were: you were beautiful in the mornings, with messy hair and sleepy eyes; when you wore mismatched socks and a hoodie; in your pajamas; when you stumbled over your words,when you were shy and flustered, when you were angry and looked you were about to kill someone. Even if you hid in crowded rooms and always sat in the back of the class you couldn’t hide it, you had grown up beautiful, but specifically tonight you seemed to have stars in your eyes. All your makeup was smudged, half of the product of your lipstick was on Yoongi’s face and the dark shadow in your eyes was a mess, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“You have the prettiest eyes, you know that?” 

You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck. “Are you trying to make me nervous?” You asked. 

He kissed your lips before answering “Why, is it working?” 

You shook your head in denial, lying shamelessly. You ran your hands from his abdomen to his chest, not knowing what to do next. Your mind and heart were racing, if you thought twice about it you didn’t even know what you were doing there, laying under him as he caressed your thighs, as he kissed your neck, as he pressed his body firmly against yours. 

“Can you tell me something?” You whispered.

He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “What is this?”

“What was that thing you said about last summer?” You asked “What did you mean?” 

Those words were still ringing in your mind since you heard them; that's what I’ve been doing since last summer. You wanted to know what he was talking about, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. “C’mon, tell me…” you chuckled.

“I was not supposed to say that out loud.” 

“Why?” You insisted “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed.” He firmly said “But there’s some things I should keep to myself.” 

You rolled your eyes “Yoongi, tell me now…”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” He said, surrendering to your tactics, which consisted only of a warning glance. “Last summer we spent some time together, some time with Simon, some time alone, but always together. I began to see you differently, you were different, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.”

“Why were you feeling guilty?” You cautiously asked. 

He stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Mmm… I felt I wasn’t supposed to look at you differently.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Exactly how different?”

“Well, different,” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What was it?” You frowned “Was it my eyebrows? I laminated my eyebrows for the first time last summer. Everyone said I looked prettier.”

Yoongi shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. How could you think it was your eyebrows?

“It wasn’t your eyebrows, but they suit you nicely.” He complimented, making you smile. 

“Well, thanks.” You happily said “But then, what was it? I don’t remember being particularly diff-”

“It was your bikini, Pinky,” he interrupted, his confession coming out suddenly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words. You blinked a few times, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he looked serious—almost too serious. “There was this weekend where you were wearing a bikini with strawberries on it and… I gave you more than a few looks and felt like I was beginning to go crazy…” His expression remained sincere, almost thoughtful.. “I thought it would go away, you are a pretty girl, I supposed it was only logical to feel attracted. But then, I started to dream about you and that made everything worse, but that’s too much information.”

“No, I want to know.” You kept insisting, teasing him “Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“You don’t want to know.” He brushed it off. 

You reached for the buttons of his shirt, with a gentle touch, you unfastened the first button. “But I do want to know.”

Yoongi leaned in, kissing your lips softly as if that could make you forget the topic of conversation, but of course it didn’t, you were still looking at him, eager to know. 

“Dreams, Pinky, of you…  in that bikini… without a bikini, in my bed.” He said in a soft breath as he swept his palm on his face. He didn’t look embarrassed but you could tell he would rather not share that information. A single flashback of one of those dreams was enough to drive him to the edge. He thought that after leaving they would stop, but you keep appearing in the back of his mind like some kind demon, sent to earth just to torture him.  You weren’t embarrassed either, you wished he could tell you more. “And the worst part is—that wasn’t all. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just say that I’m only a man, and trust that at some point my dreams would stop. But even outside my dreams, you were still there, and you were funny and smart and you seemed to be the solution to all my problems. I don’t know, I keep wondering if I was nuts.” 

You could only gaze at him, with your eyes wide and soft, absorbing every word. You had spent the whole summer with Yoongi and yet, you haven’t noticed his change at all. Yoongi wasn’t like other boys, he was composed, he knew how to controll himself, but you found yourself wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t. You bit your lip, smiling. “And what about now?” You asked. “Did you come to a conclusion after all?”

“Yeah, a few” He nodded “I think I wasn’t crazy for dreaming of you, but I will be if I don’t take this dress off you.” 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie

[cinnamon-stixs]

TADC EPISODE 3 HAS DRIVEN ME INSANE SO HERES A REALLY LONG RANT ABOUT ALL THE THINGS I NOTICED!!

-The horror visuals fucking SLAYED. SLAY.

-I LOVE that Ragatha loves horror and Pomni HATES it.

-"Zooble turns straight" 10/10 line.

-2 new points of evidence for the NPC!Jax theory: He acknowledges the audience directly, and refuses to share what happens when he holds his breath. This could be shown as a similar clue to him not having a visible room on his enamel pin art.

-Caine made a scary adventure just to get zooble interesteddd 😭❤️

-Gangle's comedy mask can just be ripped off of her face??

-Ragatha's face, I love her

-Caine has a fundamental inability to understand other people's emotions and empathize. Neurodivergent coded king I love him

-Kinger says "I'm starting to think" when they first enter the scary room, and not only is it funny as hell, IT WAS ALSO FORESHADOWING?!

-Kinger is VERY aware of the game mechanics in the world around him

Oh how I love you, Pomni.

-I LOVE THE LITTLE 2D ANIMATED SECTION OF THE EYES

"You look beautiful honey.." KILLING MYSELF. AUGH. POOR BABY..

-"Any torture I inflict is 100% accidental! like any good war criminal!"

-Zooble's trans/dysphoria allegory with their digital body has my whole heart

THEY DID NOT DESERVE THIS.

"What you're saying could imply that I'm bad at.. they only thing I'm good at..." HE IS SO ME FR WHAT THE FUCK. I THINK I KIN HIM WHOOPSIES

-I think Mr. Mildenhall's story reflects kinger's more than we think.

-Living for Pomni and Kinger's father-daughter dynamic

She's hot.

Kinky! (looks like something Amy would do to him)

-THE POSSESSION SCENE WAS SO COOL?

-So he was hitting pomni! I remember a lot of debate about that.

-Kinger and Queenie were canonically married

-Kinger took 7 years of computer science

-Kinger has a SURPRISING amount of emotional intelligence.

-BEING IN THE DARK REMINDS OF HIM OF HIS LAST MOMENT WITH HIS WIFE I'M FUCKING CRYINGGG

-Kinger hated bugs, but now he loves them because they're a subconscious reminder of his entomology loving wife.

-The line "In this world, the worst thing you can do I make someone feel like they're not wanted or loved" paired with Mr. Mildenhall's story of mistaking his wife for the monster and killing her makes me think Kinger caused Queenie to abstract somehow.

"Don't worry about me. As long as you remember, things will be okay. You're very strong pomni." ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Pomni canonically hates physical tough, but felt trusting and comfortable enough with Kinger to hold his hand.

Fucking sapphics

"FUCK-"

-Caine turning Zooble's therapy session into his own is so him omg

-"Welcome back my meowing milkmaids!" CRAZY.

-Kinger's new side wasn't actually all that surprising. Neither was him being the 'supportive dad' type. but i LOVE it

-KINGER VINYL FIGURE AHH NEED!!

This is my fave episode so far!! I love this show augh

[mer-acle]

The Greek Gods, described by me:

(pls take this as hc I just have vibes)

Zeus:

That uncle that thinks they're fun at parties, but actually everybody just wants them to shut up and stop talking about the shape of the earth. Knows the truth and what's best for you (hmmm)

Poseidon:

That uncle that is perpetually absent, but very loud when he does show. Teases everyone and never notices that some of it hurts. Has slightly less unhinged ideas about the world than Zeus but is just as annoying about them.

Hades:

The uncle that at least gets how unhinged everything is. Usually has the reasonable arguments but nobody listens. Has no idea what you are up to, but at least he feels bad that he's distant. Hates family gatherings even more than the second generation.

Hera:

True professional. Made bad choices (marrying Zeus) but now guess we'll deal with it. Olympus runs because of her. Being a bastard child does not serve you well, unless what you want actively annoys Zeus, or if you know not to expect a mother figure but approach her as queen.

Demeter:

Tries to fix Olympus sometimes, but it never goes well. Perfectly agreeable until you go after the environment (honestly you go girl). Is a genuinely sweet Mom who probably cries if you get her a gift because she loves you so much. Probably will get a dog to compensate for you growing up and moving out (even if you didn't get kidnapped first)

Hestia:

The best. Always has hot chocolate and a place to unwind. Honestly everyone would be happier if they spent more time with her. Possibly the only God who genuinely knows peace.

Athena:

Oh look, the oldest and gifted too. No coincidence that there was nothing about being happy in that prophecy about her. Is naturally good at pretty much anything she tries, except feelings. Will join in with the first gen's arguments even though there's nothing to be gained, it's just hard to sit by all the bullshit when you know better.

Hephaestus:

Honestly a pretty chill dude. Just wants to make things. Every few hundred years he'll make something evil-scientist-y so Olympus remembers he's not a doormat. Would have coined the word introvert if Hades hadn't beaten him to it.

Aphrodite:

Smarter than you think. Torn between being exactly what everyone sees her as and being anything but. Don't mistake love for harmony, this girl holds her ground and just bc she has emotional intelligence does not mean she won't punch where it really stings.

Ares:

They really screwed this guy over, he's just doing his job. Yes, he will kill you, but not if you're unarmed. Honest, strong, straightforward, and can be gentle as long as not on the battlefield. Give this big man some appreciation and self-esteem, by Styx!

Artemis:

A mythic bitch. Possibly the first ever activist, making a point of breaking gender norms. Smart, capable, and independent. Her views can be a little extreme at times, but you can't deny that running around the woods with a bunch of wild nymphs lesbians imo is massive lifegoals

Apollo:

Fabulous. Cannot pick a hobby to save his life. Is the most competent and put-together medic ever but outside of the tent, he cries about puppy videos. Always torn between "I am the best there ever was" and "I am a failure of a man, a god, a being!"

Hermes:

God of ADHD and we love him for it. Also a little menace who is simultaneously an amazing liar and can't keep his mouth shut when he really should (thankfully he's quick on his feet). Physically unable to take anything seriously.

Dionysus:

Does all the drugs (which is especially crazy given he can actually die) Being the youngest does actually do nothing for him. God of side quests and mayhem. Seriously mess with him and your mental health is gone forever (that explains a lot about me actually)

[amirasainz]

Hi, can you do a daniel x heidi × reader where the girls come drunk from a party and danny has to take care of them at home

Wait, why is this my favourite throuple to write for currently??? This is my first time writing this ship and I love it?!?!?

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

Girls night

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the quiet streets of Monaco. Daniel had opted for a chill night at home, the soothing hum of the city fading in the background while his girlfriends, Heidi and YN, decided to paint the town red. The two girls had been excitedly preparing for a night out, laughter and playful banter echoing from the bathroom as they got ready.

“You know what I could really go for?” YN asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she rummaged through Heidi's makeup drawer. “A shot of tequila!”

“Tequila? It’s like you want to wake up with a hangover,” Heidi laughed, sliding on a pair of heels. “But fine, let’s go crazy tonight! Just don’t tell Daniel!”

Daniel, lounging on the couch, chuckled to himself as he overheard their conversation. He had come to expect these kinds of antics from the girls. Their infectious energy always kept him on his toes. “Have fun, ladies! Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he called out, settling into his comfy spot.

Hours passed as Daniel lost himself in a Netflix binge, but as the clock ticked closer to midnight, he began to worry. He picked up his phone to check the time again. “Where are they?” he muttered, glancing at the door as if it would magically open to reveal the two.

He decided to text Heidi. “Hey, hope you’re having fun! Just checking in. Everything good?”

A few minutes passed, and Daniel’s heart raced with anxiety. The last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to them. Just as he was about to text again, he heard the familiar sound of keys jangling, followed by raucous laughter. The door swung open, and there stood YN and Heidi, stumbling in, their cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Surprise!” YN yelled, nearly losing her balance as she twirled around. “We’re back!”

Heidi giggled, leaning against the wall for support. “And we brought back… fun!”

Daniel shook his head with a relieved smile, though he couldn’t hide his concern. “You both look like you had a little too much fun. How many shots did you take?”

“Shots?” YN squealed, her voice an octave higher. “I lost count after six! But I could go for more! Danny, you should join us!”

“Um, I think I’ll pass. I’m more of a ‘chill at home’ guy,” he replied, trying to steer the conversation. But the girls were already lost in their own world.

Heidi suddenly flung her arms around YN from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder. “I just want to cuddle you forever,” she murmured, her words slightly slurred but filled with affection.

“Cuddle party!” YN shouted, breaking free from Heidi’s embrace. She darted towards the balcony, eyes wide with excitement. “Let’s go look at the stars! Come on, Danny!”

“YN, wait!” Daniel called out, springing to his feet. “You can’t just run outside like that!”

“Too late!” she laughed, swinging the balcony door open and stepping outside, arms raised as if embracing the night. “I’m flying! Look at me, I’m a bird!”

Daniel rushed after her, his protective instincts kicking in. “YN, come back! You’re going to fall!”

Heidi, now seated on the couch, was watching with wide eyes, tears forming. “She’s not in my arms anymore! Daniel, go get her!”

“I’m trying!” Daniel shouted back, panic rising in his chest as he stepped onto the balcony, catching YN just as she leaned dangerously over the railing. “Hey, hey! Let’s not go overboard, alright? Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

“But the stars are so pretty!” YN whined, her enthusiasm unwavering. “You just don’t understand!”

“Okay, I don’t, but I do understand that it’s past midnight, and you’re not exactly sober right now,” he said, gently but firmly guiding her back inside.

As they stepped into the living room, Heidi had already started crying. “You were gone! I thought I lost you!” she sobbed, her arms opening wide. YN, feeling the comfort of Heidi's warmth, leaped into her embrace.

“I’m right here, silly! Don’t cry!” YN giggled, snuggling into Heidi’s chest. “You’re the best cuddler ever!”

Daniel watched the scene unfold, a mix of exhaustion and amusement washing over him. “Alright, let’s get you two to bed,” he said, moving closer to them. “I think it’s time for a sleepover.”

“Sleepover!” YN cheered, the energy back in her voice. “But I wanna sleep with Heidi!”

“Okay, okay,” Daniel said, managing to get both girls into the bedroom. YN immediately crawled onto the bed, pulling Heidi down with her. “Cuddle me, Heidi! I’m cold!”

Daniel sighed, pulling the blanket up over them. “You’re going to have to settle down now, okay? It’s time for sleep,” he said, turning to leave the room.

Heidi looked up at him with a sleepy smile, her hair tousled. “Daniel, you can’t just leave me like this. I need you too!” she said, her voice softening.

“Right, but I’m kind of… tired. Plus, you two need your space,” he replied, glancing at YN, who was already starting to doze off, nestled against Heidi.

“Nope,” Heidi declared, her tone suddenly firm as she pointed toward the living room. “You need to sleep on the couch. I want to cuddle YN on my own.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope! My cuddles, my rules!” she said, snuggling into YN. “Now go!”

“Alright, alright, you win this round,” Daniel laughed, giving in. “But if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As he settled down on the couch, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He could hear the muffled giggles of the girls through the wall. This was certainly not how he imagined his night would go, but in the end, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a loud crash from the bedroom. “Heidi! YN! What was that?” He shot up, ready to rush back in.

“Just a pillow fight!” YN shouted, her voice echoing through the house.

“Seriously?” Daniel called out, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Pillow fight! Come join us!” Heidi urged, laughter bubbling in her tone.

“Forget it! You two are on your own,” he yelled, flopping back onto the couch with a grin. “This is going to be one long night.”

And as he lay there, the sounds of laughter and playful bickering filled the air, he knew he wouldn’t trade this chaotic love for anything. After all, this was what life was all about: racing hearts, silly nights, and the warmth of those you loved most.

[webism]

3k members of the disco girls club !!! this is crazy considering i’ve been writing on this blog for just over a month 🗯️ anywho i wanna celebrate by directing you all to my current fav writers on tumblr—if you like my stuff you’ll like theirs 🪩

my sister !! first of all, @lotties-ashwagandha — writes the most gorgeous wlw fics and is doing a very tasty kinktober at the moment that you must take a peek at. vita is my favourite person in the world. i love my vita, heres my fav fic she's written for our friendship anniversary amen

SHAE!!!!! @6ronze i think was the first moot i made on this blog and im so madly deeply in love with her that my heart aches just to say it. read this zayne fic of hers for spiritual enlightenment

@getoslamb !! who recently moved to this blog and is beyond worth a follow because if we are judging from the works i've seen yall are going to eat up this kinktober masterlist

@toadtoru alba alba alba who is so sweet and also my designated tumblr muse, look at this gojo fluff piece im elting im crying im screaming im dying

rize !! @itachiiwrites who has been so sweet and supportive and i love love love seeing them in my notifs it always makes my day. here i offer a gojo fic that still has me choked

and @aeyumicore !! whom i havent interacted with all that much (to my hearts dismay) but i absolutely adore her works. the amount of time and effort that must go into her writing is insane and something i could only ever aspire to emulate. this voyeuristic sylus fic converted me to the dark side, im not even a sylus girl (zayne and raf have me loyal) and i was choked.

thank you !! to everyone who has followed me or interacted with my silly little late night horny posts. ur the sweetest in the world for giving my writing a little time out of ur day and im giving u all a big kiss for it <3 -abby !!!!!!!!!!!!

[wardenparker]

Love Potion Number 9

Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: Not too many! Alcohol, food mentions, some fakey suburban witchcraft stuff written by an actual pagan, probably incorrect descriptions of a town that actually exists. Making out and undressing. Mentions of protected sex. Summary: Halloween is a really big deal in your hometown, and this year your sister is in town to celebrate with you. But what you don't know is that she isn't the only old familiar face around. Your childhood crush Will Miller is back, too. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! We're starting off nice and fluffy this year, with a little love for the older Miller brother. We're starting the spice level out low 🧡

Red Feather Lakes might be a small community, but for the little corner of Colorado where you grew up, Halloween is a way of life. The annual kids parade on Elf Lane, and Main Street Trick or Treat are the highlight of the year, and the costume party at town hall is not to be missed.

This year is the hundredth anniversary of the big Halloween shindig and on the night before, which is making such a splash around town that people are coming in from all over to see what the town council has managed. Even your little sister is back in town, which is how the two of you ended up on the back porch of your parents’ house drinking margaritas and eating cold pizza way too late at night, catching up and reminiscing about Halloweens of years past.

“Don’t you remember that night that Ben Miller scared the ever-loving shit out of us?” She snorts, feeling tipsy and better than she has in a long time. This little trip was needed. Especially since she has some news that might change the dynamic of the next time you get together.

“Which time?” You raise an eyebrow at her and pour the last of the pitcher of margaritas evenly between your glasses. While most of your friends — and even your little sister who is your best friend — had grown up and left town, you had come back again a few years ago after a change of careers. Seeing her again at any time of year that isn’t the winter holidays is such a treat. “The time he jumped out at us in that King Kong mask up in Elf Lane? Or the time he tried to climb in the kitchen window dressed like Freddy Krueger and dad nearly clobbered him with a baseball bat?”

The Millers were your next door neighbors growing up, and you had spent a lot of time together since you and Will were in the same grade and your sister was the same grade as Benny. For a while when you were kids, the four of you were inseparable.

“That time that he snuck in and grabbed our ankles from under the bed.” She laughs, even though at the time it hadn’t been funny. She had cussed him out and Will had actually knocked him upside his dumbass head a few times after he had calmed the two of you down.

Snorting at the memory, you take a big sip from your crazy straw and laugh from somewhere deep in your belly that you swear you had forgotten. "You screamed so loud you woke up Mrs. Peterson two houses down. It was amazing, but I still wanted to kick Benny's ass."

“Will did.” She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her margarita. “I can’t believe it’s been so long. We were fucking kids. I think that’s the moment I lost my little crush on Benny.”

"When you realized he was never going to stop pranking you for shits and giggles?" Chaos has always been Benny Miller's energy. You will agree to that completely.

“Yeah.” She blows out a sigh and shrugs. “Worked out for the best, I guess. At least I don’t have to sleep with one eye open.”

"Maybe not the best..." You shoot your sister a smirk. "I heard from Janie Calitri that he's doing MMA fights now." Gossip is just about all there is to do in a town as small as yours, and that multiples exponentially when the gossip is about your small-town heroes. The Miller brothers are solidly near the top of that list. Everybody in town loves them and remembers them fondly. Even if Benny was a little shit.

“God.” She blows out a laugh that is half surprise but mostly resignation. “MMA? I guess that’s the next step after the army.”

"Seems like it." It isn't worth mentioning that you also heard in the same conversation that Will Miller is now a firefighter or personal trainer or maybe both. Janie hadn't been clear on the details except that she'd somehow seen a picture of him looking drool-worthy on Instagram shared by a gym. But Will Miller had always been drool worthy. Even when you were gangly, awkward teenagers.

“So, how are you liking living here?” She asks, taking another sip and glancing around the screened in porch and then back at you. “I know that wish I live closer - I do too, but please tell me you’ve been going out and dating?”

“Please tell me who I’m supposed to date in a town of less than five hundred people where we know everyone already and they all know us?” The best you can do is shake your head and take another long sip of your drink. “I don’t mind being back and I actually really like my job, but I basically hang out at home with the dog all day since I telecommute. Mom and Dad will probably never retire just because they hate being bored, And they go line dancing or to the movies or to the bowling alley all the time.” Snorting again, you shrug. “Our parents have a way more active social life than I do.”

“Come on, you used to have huuuuuuge crush on Will!” She yelps it out in disappointment. “You mean you didn’t jump him when he came home from the Army without that twat he was going to marry?”

There it is, you think with an internal sigh. The downside of having your little sister as your best friend is that she knows literally everything about your life — and the things she’s somehow missed she just barges into the middle of. “No, I didn’t. Though that girl was fucking awful.” She was some girl he’d met in a bar while he was in. Someone who just wanted to go around making sure everyone knew how important she was as an Army Wife, while not wanting to do a thing to help her serviceman partner. Will’s PTSD had been terrible back then and she had done less than nothing to help. The day he blacked out and almost attacked a man in the grocery store in town, it was you who talked him down and helped him out of the panic. Not her. She had gone back to the house and packed. “He’s moved again, anyway. He’s living with Benny in Florida.”

“What? No way.” She scrunches her nose and makes a face. “That sucks. You would have married him and had his babies in a New York minute if he would have looked at you.” She sighs softly. “Where in Florida?”

“Sarasota.” You answer far too quickly, and duck your head away and when she raises both eyebrows at you. “We…may follow each other on Instagram still. Not that we ever talk.”

“And how often do you stalk his page?” She demands, smirking slightly at the way you are avoiding eye contact.

“I see on my feed when he posts something new,” you defend, concentrating very hard on petting your parents’ dog at your feet. “I don’t go stalking him.”

“But I bet notifications are on.” She snorts and grins when you shove at her. Only tipping sideways slightly but manages not to spill her drink as she rights herself. “Yeah. You still drool over William Miller.”

“Childhood crushes die hard.” It’s a weak defense, and you would more accurately call him your first love, but she isn’t wrong. You definitely still drool over Will Miller.

“God, do you remember when we were going through that little goth phase and decided we were witches?” She cackles. “We should whip up that love potion we had a recipe – I mean spell for.”

“The foolproof one you got from some rando on MySpace?” It had sounded genius back in the day. Absolutely brilliant. To two preteens from a middle-of-nowhere mountain town, it had seemed perfect. “It was so useless, wasn’t it? With just cooking herbs and normal stuff in it?”

“Yes! But that’s not the point.” She sends you an exaggerated pout. “The point is to do something. Start working on your love life.”

The look you give her is incredulous at best. “By making…weird love spell tea to lure Will Miller back to Colorado and into my chronically single arms?”

“Absolutely!” She giggles like it’s the funniest phrasing she’s ever heard, but she wants to do it. “We should do something silly and fun. Doesn’t matter if it’s not going to work.” She grins. “We will just be summoning our Practical Magic sides again.”

Maybe it’s the margaritas. Maybe it’s that tomorrow is Halloween. Or maybe it’s just that you missed your sister. But whatever it is, you tilt your head to look at her and end up grinning. “If you tell me you wrote the love spell down somewhere I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

“Oh I made a Grimoire.” She tells you, looking both pleased with herself and a little embarrassed. “I was really into it!” She huffs when your eyes widen and she throws a napkin at you.

“You were, but do you think it’s still upstairs?” The idea, silly as it is, seems to itch something very intriguing in your tipsy mind.

“Let’s go see!” She drains the rest of her margarita and slaps the cup down. Now that you are not protesting the entire idea, she is ready to make this happen for you. “We will make Will Miller fall in love with you

******

"Come oooooon!" Benny is flopped on his back on the sofa in the apartment he shares with his brother, staring up at both the ceiling and at Will's incredulous face. "It's gonna be even better this year, and you pulled the short straw at work last year and couldn't come home with me for Christmas. Mom will flip her shit if you come home with me as a surprise. She'll be so excited dude."

“It’s Halloween.” Will snorts. “You’re just going to pass out or eat all the candy and scare the shit out of the kids.” He could go, but giving Benny a hard time right now is much more fun.

"Yes." Benny waves his hands, outstretched arms punctuating his point like a giant bird's wingspan. "Yes exactly. What else would I do on Halloween? It's going to be amazing." They grew up loving the holiday, loving their town's traditions, and always putting their full effort into costumes and parties. Halloween in Red Feather Lakes is really its own whole world. "Which is exactly why you should come home with me and enjoy yourself for once."

“I don’t find scaring the shit out of the neighbors to be a good time like you do.” He points at finger at his mischievous younger brother. “You climb under their beds this time and they’re liable to shoot your dumbass.”

Benny's face splits into a grin. "If that's what I gotta do to get your ass alone with her for any fucking reason, you bet your ass I'll do it." he promises, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Who?” Will demands, even though he knows exactly who Benny is talking about. The same girl he has casually been bringing up for the past six months every time he talks about home. You.

"The girl you were in-fucking-love with for every year of your life ending in teen." Benny deadpans, and moves to sit up from his place on the couch. "Don't you ever want to find out if it could actually happen?"

“Except for the fact that she was never interested in me.” Will reminds him, knowing that it is a moot point once Ben Miller has made up his mind about something.

"I still don't buy that." The younger Miller brother sits up fully and somehow manages to spring up from his seat without a massive rush of dizziness. Pure luck. "Dude, just come home with me for the weekend. Mom will flip her shit to see you and cook whatever you want. Isn't that worth the trip in and of itself?"

“I haven’t had her meatloaf in a long time.” He admits, knowing that he could use the break from work and bullshit. Frankie is busy with his girl and the babies and there isn’t a fight coming up for a few weeks. “But I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Maybe I could just stay home. Have a break from you.” He teases.

"If you stay here, Pope is gonna drag your ass to some club to wingman for him." Benny points out, already smirking victoriously. "Mom's meatloaf or Pope's cocky ass bullshit? It's not a hard choice, bro."

Will rolls his eyes, aware that he’s not lying. Santiago has already been talking about some club where the drinks are hot and the women even hotter. It’s not really Will’s kind of thing. “You’re driving.” He snorts, giving in.

Cackling with glee, Benny loops his arm around his brother's neck and pulls him toward the back of the apartment. "I already bought your plane ticket, asshole. You were coming whether you liked it or not, now pack! We gotta be at the airport in three hours!"

“Shit.” Will hisses at the impulsiveness of his brother, but he grins. He will take the weekend to recharge and refocus. If he just happens to chat with you and see how you’ve been, that will just be a happy coincidence.

******

Though you aren't technically hungover, the headache that has lingered all morning isn't going away as you head into town with your sister. Breakfast was a trial for her queasy stomach but she seems to be in lighter spirits now, chattering away as you head together toward town hall. Apparently she had thought it would be a blast to sign you up as volunteers to help decorate the place for the big Halloween party tonight, even though you aren't quite sure why.

“We just need to get the last ingredient while we are in town and we will brew the tea before the party.” She chatters happily after tucking her phone into her pocket and linking her arm through yours.

“And what, pray tell, is the last ingredient?” It had taken over an hour of routing through her old room and closet to find the teenage grimoire aside by that tins you had been exhausted. So it was agreed upon that the witching hour would be three in the afternoon instead of three in the morning like the lame, adult witches you now are.

“Fresh thyme to chase away the bad vibes of previous relationships to usher in true love.” She hums, shooting you a grin. “And I want a special shout out at your wedding.”

"You can give a speech and take credit," you promise her, rolling your eyes only gently. She seems utterly convinced that this will work and what the hell – it's been a long time since you did something dumb with your kid sister just for fun.

“Oh I absolutely will.” She snickers, bumping her shoulder against yours playfully. “And you will absolutely be doing Will.”

“You can see the future now?” You tease as town comes into sight. She’s so determined that you have half a mind to ask if she’s been conspiring with Benny.

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “I wish. I would be hitting the lottery just often enough to not be suspicious.”

“We’d become aces in sports betting.” Much good may it do you. Having enough money to take care of yourself didn’t make your last relationship work.

“Yep. One hundred percent.” She snorts, knowing her team always loses. “Become ladies of leisure and live on that round the world cruise ship. Place our bets online and live off the proceeds.”

"That's the retirement plan." You tell her sagely, and the two of you end up in giggles as you park the car on Main Street, halfway between town hall and the general store. You'll need both before you head home again.

“Plus I figured we could get some of those Halloween sugar cookies.” She admits with a grin. “And a last minute bag of mini KitKats.”

"That's why you're my favorite sister." The grin you beam in her direction is bright, and because she's your only sister, you're both laughing when you climb out of the car.

“Might be because I’m your only sister.” She hums smugly. “So let’s go do this decorating so we can get our munches on.”

"We're getting popcorn, too," you bargain, matching the long strides of her legs as you hustle down the street together. "So when we dip out of the party early tonight we can turn on horror movies and make popcorn."

“Carmel popcorn?” She counters, waggling her brows.

"Okay we're getting two kinds of popcorn."

The laughter that follows the two of you lasts all the way into town hall where party decorating is well underway and several people are already walking around with pieces of their costumes on. Your parents are both already there, helping some members of the town's council to hang streamers and a group of kids from the local high school are making signs for their charity fundraiser. It's a homey, welcoming atmosphere and you breath in the scent of pumpkin spice potpourri when you come further into the big function room.

******

“Come on man.” Benny hustles Will through the baggage claim, neither one of them packing anything that needed to be checked, but you have to go through that area to get to the rental desk. “We need to get our car.”

The hour drive from the airport in Laramie, Wyoming doesn't bother them. Red Feather Lakes was always a beautiful place inside of beautiful mountains, and being able to surprise their mother would be worth it. Ever since their father died any chance they get to see her is doubly worthwhile. It was more the nuisance of paperwork that both Miller brothers disliked. They'd rather just step out of the airport and be at their childhood home again.

“You’re driving.” Will tosses Benny the keys and smirks when the younger man groans. “Fine.” He huffs, pouting slightly. He had obviously wanted to work on something for his scare plan tonight.

"Driver picks music." Benny declares, regardless of the fact that it goes completely against their usual bargain. If Will is going to make him drive, he's not going to listen to Queens of the Stone Age for the entire drive.

“Whatever man. Just don’t fucking put on Miley Cyrus.” Will opens the backseat door and tosses his bag in. “You call mom, make sure she is home?”

"I texted her to ask what time she was going into town to hand out candy to the trick or treaters at her shop. It's still early enough, she'll be home." The florist shop that Dana Miller had managed for their entire life was squarely in the middle of the town's before-dark trick or treating event where little kids could go storefront to storefront to get candy from business owners, and she had never missed a year with the kids. These days she would finish that up and then head over to town hall for the party right after.

“Okay.” Will nods as Benny hops behind the wheel and cranks the car up. “We drop our bags and see if mom has some candy for later?” He has a wicked sweet tooth, although he never admits it

"Yes, we'll see if she has your mini Snickers, you overgrown child," Benny teases as he peels out into the road.

“You know you eat about half of them.” Will huffs, always annoyed when he goes to get some of his favorite candy and the little shit has eaten all of them.

"She got my Reese's." The younger brother of the two brothers announces happily. "I'm all set. The kids may not get any candy, but we will."

“Of course she does.” There’s no spite in his tone even thought it’s always been obvious that Benny is the favorite. It’s only because he’s the baby of the family.

"Don't pout." Benny throws his brother a smirk. "I bet if you go next door you can get all the treats you want."

Will groans, but he doesn't say anything. Since he's agreed to come, his brother has just intensified the comments about you and it does him no good to try to argue against him. He will just keep on so he's trying to ignore it.

The drive is reasonably marked with snark and ribbing, and when Benny pulls the rental car up in front of their old house it feels a little bit like coming home from bootcamp. That was the last time they had really surprised their mother with an arrival. "C'mon." Benny shoves Will and climbs out of the SUV. "Quiet. Get your shit."

"Jesus.' Will rolls his eyes but silently creeps out of the vehicle. "I think mom will notice me at some point." He points out. "It's not like the time you tried to have Aaron Rodgers live with us without telling our parents."

"His parents' divorce was vicious, he needed someplace to go." Benny defends, though he does make Will shut up before he very carefully opens the door in his best effort to be silent. He even avoids the creaky fourth plank in the entryway floor that sounds like a cartoon coffin swinging open. But the dog spoils it almost immediately with barking his head off.

Will's shoulders shake in silent amusement as Benny makes more noise than the dog trying to shut him up. Only getting the barking to stop when Scruffy comes into view, sees it's his second and third favorite humans and immediately rushes over to beat his tail against the walls as he jumps up for love and kisses.

"You ruined it!" Benny is huffing at the Malinois, but he's still bent over giving him all the cuddles he could possibly want when their mother appears around the corner.

Dana Miller is wearing her Halloween apron with an episode of Supernatural playing on the kitchen television, flour in her hair and even on her cheek when she unceremoniously drops the towel from her hands at the sight of her boys. "Benjamin Miller is this why you wanted to know about my schedule for the day?" She crows, before hurrying forward to wrap both of her sons up in hugs. "Almost gave me and the dog a damn heart attack, come and hug your mother."

"Hey ma." Will smiles as he scoops her up, even though her own grip on him is bone crushing. She's not a frail woman, despite being petite. "Ben thought we should surprise you, so send him the medical bills."

"I will, don't you worry." She squeezes them both tight, one after the other, and doesn't mind the fact that she's a little teary eyed at the sight of them. "What's the occasion then, besides Halloween? Or are we just giving your old mother palpitations for fun these days?"

"You know Benny." Will snorts. "It's all fun and games for him." His tone sounds surly but now that he's here, he's happy Benny dragged him along. It's been too long since he's seen his mother. He needs to make more of an effort.

“It is.” She knows that. Her younger son’s whimsy is something she loves about him. “But it got you both home, so I’m very happy about it. How long are you staying?”

"Just the weekend." Will shrugs apologetically. "I have to be back at work Monday afternoon."

"How is the firehouse?" Dana ushers her boys toward the kitchen after they drop their bags at the foot of the stairs like they always did after school every day. Old habits die hard.

"It's.....fine." The truth is, he's not exactly happy there anymore. There's been a change of command and for some reason, he clashes with the new fire chief.

"Oh?" Their mother raises an eyebrow as she moves to the stove, immediately dishing up some of what she was cooking. It was going to last just her all weekend, but now that her boys are home it will be one lunch and that is perfectly fine. "What's caused the change of heart?"

"New chief." Will sighs. "He's a very 'my way or the highway' type."

"You never do well with that." The beef stew from the pot is ladled into bowls without hesitation or even consultation. The Miller boys are always hungry. "Benny honey, get the tray of rolls out of the oven," she instructs, setting the full bowls one by one on the kitchen counter. "Are you thinking of asking for a transfer?" She asks, bringing her attention back to her elder son.

"Problem is, there isn't anywhere to transfer to." He complains, having been really pissed about that when he had found out. "Not without a significant loss of pay or having to move to BFE Florida."

"BFE?" Their mother asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

"Military term." Benny supplies helpfully, shooting Will a grin. "Butt Fuck, Egypt. Means the middle of nowhere."

"Charming." Dana rolls her eyes at her sons. "Put those rolls on a plate, Ben. Will, there's sodas in the fridge if you want." She ushers both boys toward the table on the other end of the kitchen and puts the bowls on a tray. "So what will you do, Will? Have you decided? Or found your solution but pretended you haven't decided yet?"

"Honestly, I don't have a clue right now." He had stopped giving the talks at the different commands, finding it too difficult after losing Tom last year. "But I need to figure it out. He doesn't even respect my VA appointments."

"Maybe you'll find a little inspiration. A Halloween miracle?" She winks and laughs at her own little joke. "A little mountain air might help clear your head, at least."

He groans at her lame joke and shakes his head. "Sure, why not?" He snorts. "It's closer than a Christmas miracle."

"So you're coming to the party tonight, then." It isn't a question. She will be bringing her boys to the costume party since they're in town. "We'll have to get some costumes sorted out."

"We have them." Benny announces with a grin.

"You brought some?" She raises an eyebrow in interest as they start to eat.

Benny cuts his eyes over to Will, still ignoring him. "I brought some." He admits. "Planned it out for my helpless older brother."

******

"I love that we're grown ass women and still getting banished to the backyard to make potions on Dad's old camping stove." You snort, carrying the equipment out to the back porch where your sister is lining up all of her bottles of 'love potion' ingredients. "Feels very teenage of us. I love it."

"Mom said she didn't like the smell of the herbs." It was such a lie, but neither of you called her on it. It's more likely that she just didn't want to put up with your giggling and cackling as you 'brewed' the potion.

"She should just be glad that we didn't do this last night after an entire pitcher of margaritas." That would have been even more giggling and probably a disaster waiting to happen. "Alright, do we have a spell or something? What are we doing here?" Since moving past the silliness of it, you've come around to just embracing the absurdity of the idea. If like isn't about being ridiculous with your best friend, then what is it about?

“Well of course we have a spell.” She rolls her eyes and snorts like you are ridiculous for even thinking otherwise.

"Pull out that grimoire, baby sis." The table on the porch becomes your staging area and you set up the camping stove and pot then start to look through the bottles that your sister has brought out. "Fennel pollen? What the hell is fennel pollen?"

“Fennel, ground.” She snorts, pulling out a small container of the spice. “Substitutes are okay.”

"Why is there a piece of...is that from my prom dress?" A scrap of lace fabric is out with the bottles and you hold it up in confusion. "Are we like...burning things related to wedding dresses to summon a groom?" You ask, already bursting out laughing all over again.

“It’s a part of the spell!” She snorts, even as she starts laughing too. “It was the dance you and Will danced at, remember?”

“I remember.” How could you forget? Your whole friend group had opted not to have official prom dates but to all go together, and then everyone had paired off anyway. The memory of it — how Will had grumbled about why didn’t we all have dates, then? as the two of you sat at the table together, and how it took him half the night to dance at all — makes you smile softly.

“So this is the pinch of closeness the spell requires.” She tells you as she takes the bottle from you. “From the waist of the dress where Will held you close.”

“This is a really fucking specific spell,” you joke, actually feeling more warmth from the nostalgia than anything else. You had ended up having a wonderful prom with Will and that was the whole reason that your dress was still upstairs.

“It’s specialized to the couple so it’s more likely to work.” She points out practically. “Too bad I don’t have something of Will’s.”

“I mean…” Glancing next door, you shrug your shoulders and move to the end of the porch that bitts right up against the border of your properties. There’s no fence or gate or wall or anything, just two backyards running together. “Does something from his yard count?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and shoots you a grin. “It couldn’t hurt.”

"Let's go see!" Ready to just throw yourself all in when the memories of prom make you all warm and fuzzy with nostalgia, you hop down from your back porch and slip over to the Miller's yard. It takes all of three seconds to find something that Scruffy left outside. Helpfully, it's one of Will's old bandanas that the sleek Malinois sometimes wears with his collar, and you pick it up with an air of victory. "Scruffy's doing his part for the spell," you call out, and hustle back to the porch.

Laughing, your sister shakes her head but takes the bandana. “Ode de dog slobber.” She jokes, although the bandana looks clean.

“Alright.” Back up on the porch, you motion to your sister with a flourish. “Break out the grimoire and let’s do this,” you proclaim, running your hands together.

"That's the spirit!" She reaches out and slaps your butt playfully and then turns to pull an old notebook out of the bag she had brought down. It might not be the spookiest but it was what she had as a teenager.

One by one each ingredient goes into the pot. A pinch of this, a dash of that. Mostly kitchen herbs, or the contents of a broken up tea bags. The live flame from the camping stove is there to singe the scrap of your prom dress. Will's bandana goes into the brew like a Hail Mary from his days as quarterback of the high school football team. By the time everything is in and your sister has read the makeshift spell aloud from her notebook with flare, you're both cackling with glee and feeling like there may really be something magical about Halloween after all.

“I feel like we should be wearing all black and living in a very mysterious house.” Your sister admits with a grin as she gives the ‘tea’ a final stir and pinches in the thyme that you had to buy earlier. “Okay, we let this steep one minute and then you drink it while saying Will’s full name after every sip.”

"You didn't tell me I had to drink it!" It's so like her to leave that detail to the very end, and you scowl at her for a whole three seconds. "I would not have put the dog's bandana in there."

She cackles with a slightly evil grin on her face. “How did you think it would work?” She demands, pulling it off the heat to let it steep as she pulls out your favorite old teacup. It was one that you had found in the attic years ago and rescued from the trunk to become your teacup.

"I guess I didn't give it much thought," you admit with a huff. Because you never intended to go through with it, but the prospect of having fun with your sister had won out.

She snorts and shrugs. “Maybe we add a little honey for taste.”

"Maybe more than a little." But the suggestion brings you both to the edges of giggles again, and you shake your head as she goes inside to retrieve the honey bear from the cupboard.

There's an odd moment of warmth in the quiet that follows, and you pick up the photo of you and Will from that prom night, savoring the nostalgia that blankets you like a gentle hug.

If you had known you were being watched through the window by an unexpected audience, you're not sure you would even have cared. Sometimes good memories are worth a moment to honor them.

******

“We don’t have to be there right when the doors open.” Will rolls his eyes as Benny hurries him along. Because of the military he has always been early for everything, but he’d spent too much time today by the window and then looking through an old box in his closet to even think about getting ready until his younger brother had burst into his room.

"If we want a crack at the punchbowl before Deputy Warren starts nitpicking at anyone who drinks, yes we do need to be there when the doors open." Benny contends. Pointing to the bundle of clothes on Will's bed, he frowns animatedly. "Get dressed, dude."

“You are gonna have a bottle out in the truck anyway.” Will points out, but he still gets up and pulls his shirt off. “What the hell did you get me for a costume anyway?”

"They had a costume for that Sons of Anarchy character you like when I went to the Halloween store." Benny tells him. He's already in his cowboy outfit and twirls his hat around one hand. "I figured if I got you a Disney outfit you'd refuse to go, and that defeats the purpose of coming out here."

“You know better than to get me some stuffy Prince Charming costume.” He snorts. He’ll be happy with the Sons outfit and he can slick back his hair, “I’ll be ready in five.”

"Good." Benny whirls around and stuffs his hat on his head. "You're driving!" He hollers back as he strolls out of the room. "I wanna pregame!"

“Shit.” He shakes his head and blows out a sigh. He has a feeling tonight is going to be a long one.

"I heard that!" Benny calls back, already heading down the stairs. He's going to enjoy the hell out of this weekend and is going to push Will's buttons until he figures out what it takes for his brother to enjoy it, too.

True to his word, Will is downstairs four and a half minutes later. His hair slicked back with some ten-year-old gel he had found under the sink in the bathroom and a silver chain that he had forgotten he had around his neck. He doesn’t have but two rings on, but one of them is a skull ring.

"You boys go ahead and have fun." Their mother is bustling around the living room, tidying up from the board game they had been playing before. "I'm going to come a little later. I want to catch the neighborhood trick or treaters before I leave the house."

“Are you sure?” Will walks over to her and drops a kiss on her head.

"Absolutely." She nods, giving her older son a squeezing hug. "The Olsens down the street always do a family costume and their granddaughter is just two years old now. I don't want to miss that."

“Okay.” Will palms the keys and looks over at his brother. “Ready, jackass?”

"I've been ready." Even the cowboy boots he borrowed from Fish are ready, and Benny slides right out the front door with a mock square dancing move, calling back: "See ya at the party, Mom!" And climbing directly into the rental car.

“Kill me now.” Will sighs as he shakes his head, following him out the door and closing it behind him. There’s already kids running up and down the streets with bags in their hands. Soon ghosts and goblins will haunt the streets and the witching hours for youngsters will begin.

******

"Oh wow..." Your sister gasps sharply walking into the town's Halloween party and seeing how much decorating had been done after the two of you left. The finesse, it seemed, was everything. A band composed of several town council members, the middle school principal, and the town librarian has set up on one end of the room to play the night away. Tables of food and drink line the opposite wall for new arrivals to mingle and find their courage, and some couples are already out on the dance floor at the beginning of the party.

Having doubled down on the idea to dress as Barbie movie characters this year, your sister rolls in as Cowgirl Barbie in her bright pink jumpsuit complete with bell bottoms and the kerchief around her neck with a grin on her face. She's always effortless, your baby sister, and instead of being huffy when she spots someone else in the same costume as her, she just sprints off to make a new friend instead. It leaves you standing in your pink and white gingham dress as classic Barbie just a little awkwardly by the door.

“Come on.” As soon as he finds a spot to park, Benny is rushing Will out of the SUV and towards the door. Eager to start the night off, even though he had been drinking on the way.

The party is in full swing already but the punch bowl is full, which is all Benny cares about at the moment. He heads straight over to get a black plastic cup and scrawl his name on it with a metallic sharpie when he hears his name screeched at top volume. Old friends seem to pour out of the woodwork to say hi, and practically before Will even hits the doorframe, his little brother is surrounded by a mob of people.

Will is more the type to ease into a room. The military training and life had led him to scout out exits and breach points. He finds himself searching those out and spots a pink gingham dress in the process.

"Oh shit!" Your sister has spotted him first, as she's facing the rest of the room while you were pouring two cups of punch.

"What?" You barely look up, making very sure that you don't spill on your dress. "Did you spot more Barbies?"

“No.” She shakes her head and grins. “Will’s here!” She hisses and motions you away from the table. “Go give him a drink.”

"Will's here?" There is hardly enough time to react before she is spinning you around and nudging you toward the middle of the room like she's going to shove you clear across the expansive dancefloor and straight into his arms.

When you turn around, Will swallows. The dress looks incredible on you and you look shocked to see him. He shuffles slightly, rolling his shoulders back as for once wishes he had a cigarette even though he quit eight years ago.

"Hey." One single, stupid word comes out of your mouth when you get within an arm's reach of him, still clutching both cups and trying to pretend your heart isn't beating out of your chest.

“Hey.” He reaches out to take the cups from you and stupidly takes both like you weren’t wanting one for yourself. “You don’t look like the Barbie dolls I remember Benny pulling the heads off of.” He jokes, flashing you a quick grin. “I think they were all yours too.”

With your cheeks instantly on fire, you manage to smile and shrug like you aren't well aware that Benny had a penchant for doll destruction when you were all kids. "Barbie is a state of mind," you tell him with an air of someone giving sage advice.

“That’s true.” He chuckles, glad that you hadn’t taken offense to that comment. He had almost stuck his foot in his mouth. “Besides, you make a better Barbie.”

It actually draws a nervous little giggle out of you, and you have to clear your throat to keep from looking or sound like a besotted middle schooler when you are a grown-ass woman. "It's good to see you, Will."

“Good to see you too.” He nods, handing you back one of the cups. “Here, I’m an idiot.” He snorts. “Don’t know why I took both of them.”

"You were trying to be helpful," you predict, seeing the impulse as one of chivalry, even if it wasn't necessary. "I, um...I didn't know you'd be home this weekend. What's the occasion?" It's your turn to be a little bit of an idiot, considering you're both standing in the middle of a party.

“Benny dragged me home.” He rolls his eyes, even though he’s happy that he has. You’re here. “It’s been one thousand sixty five days since I’ve seen you.” He blurts out suddenly, having calculated it earlier.

The way that tugs at the corners of your mouth makes your lips twitch up in a smile and all of a sudden you can't look him in the eyes momentarily. "You counted?"

“Always count.” It’s a habit that hadn’t been that noticeable in high school to careless teenagers, but that trait had been exacerbated in the Army. “Pretty much everything.”

"I know." A lot of people didn't realize, but you noticed. You always noticed. "But I didn't know you counted that." It was a little less than three years ago when you saw him last. After everything had gone to hell with his now ex-fiancée and he had left Colorado to move out east with Benny. Without a doubt, he counted because of the heartbreak, not because of you.

He shrugs and takes a sip of the punch. “You really helped me screw my head back on straight.” He reminds you. “Should have called you more when we moved.” It’s a half assed apology and he knows it. “Sorry about that.”

"It's fine. Not like we promised it or anything." You hadn't. It really was okay that he hadn't called. Your crush isn't his responsibility, after all.

“No, but I should have.” He repeats. “How have you been? Mom said you moved home?”

"Yeah." It isn't anything to be ashamed of and you won't pretend it is, even if the plan was for the move to only be temporary. "I work remotely and there was nothing keeping me where I was, so I came back for a while. It gives me time to save and really think about where I want to go next." The smile you offer him is small but bright. "How's Florida?"

“Hot.” Will snorts. “Muggy.” He shrugs. “Ben’s happy there, and our friend Fish settled down there too, but I don’t know.” This restless feeling has been getting worse since Tom died. He has a lot of guilt being around Molly and the girls. Even they were planning on moving soon. Wanting to be closer to the colleges they were choosing.

"You're not happy there?" It extinguishes your smile almost instantly, worried that he's made a decision that has made him unhappy and knowing that you were one of the people who encouraged him to stay close to his brother in the first place. Benny is his best friend, after all.

“I think I want a change.” He admits out loud. “Nothing horrible, but just…restless, I guess. Fish and his wife had another baby. Makes number three and I haven’t been on a date in two years.”

Before you can stop yourself, you're huffing at the idea that he somehow would have any trouble finding women willing to date him. "I'm sure you can flip the switch on that any time you decide to," you assure him, immediately taking a sip of your punch so you don't stick your foot in your mouth.

He shrugs again. “Maybe. But I don’t want to have to explain all my issues.” He shoots you a grin. “And all my scars.”

"You're never going to let me off the hook for that, are you?" Like you're seventeen all over again, you could just stick your tongue out and tell him to deal with it. "I warned you to use a pot holder, William. The fact that you thought you could take the cupcake pan out of the oven without protection is not my fault."

He chuckles, always loving the way your nose scrunches when you look at him like that. It’s why he always teases you about the scar on his palm. It’s barely noticeable now and he has more prominent ones, but he likes to bring it up at least once every time he sees you. “You told me the oven was off.”

"Yeah, the oven being off doesn't mean the pan instantly stops being hot!" It's so ridiculous to get into every single time, but he does love to bring it up. It was mother's day and he had wanted to do something nice for his mom, but now it's the thing to tease each other about.

“How was I supposed to know that?” He demands, even as he starts to laugh. It’s stupid now, looking back on it, but it had been one of those brainless teenage moments. “You didn’t even kiss it to make it feel better.”

“I—I didn’t—” The insinuation makes you fluster, skin burning hot all over again. “You didn’t ask me to,” you justify. If he had asked, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

“I thought that was like, an automatic thing.” The way your lips pinch together is adorable and he sends you a smirk. “Kiss it to make it feel better.”

“I mean…” You’re going to burst into flames any second, you can tell. Just burn to ashes on the spot. “I mean I guess, but—” You sputter inelegantly. “Weren’t you dating Annie Neville when that happened?”

He would have dumped Annie in a heartbeat if you had given him any indication you wanted him. It might not be something that would have been right, but it was the gods honest truth. He takes another sip of his drink. “Broke up with her two days later.” He doesn’t admit that he had broken up with her because she thought it was weird he would do something for his mom on Mother’s Day, but that’s not the point.

“Right.” Nodding slightly, the warm allure of deeply alcoholic punch sounds like a great idea and you sip. “I remember now. She bitched and moaned about losing out on boyfriend bragging rights.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” He cuts his eyes towards his brother. “And I grew up with that one.”

You follow his eyes and grin, seeing the gaggle of friends surrounding Benny. Including one hot pink Barbie jumpsuit. “Surprising no one, my sister has found your brother,” you hum in amusement. “I wonder what havoc they’ll wreak this time.”

“They might burn the town down.” He huffs. “Then Benny would expect me to put it out.”

“That’s right.” An innocent like sound escapes you. An assent. As though you didn’t order a copy of his fire department’s Hunky Heroes calendar last year under a different name just because his photo was your birthday month. “Firefighter. That seemed like it would be right up your alley.”

“Might be an ex-firefighter.” It’s always been easy to share with you. Which was why his ex’s comments about being closed off were so confusing to him. He shares. He just never shared much with her because she never seemed to give a shit.

“Really?” That surprises you, since giving back to his community has always been so important to Will. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

“Yeah.” He notices that you have finished your own punch, so he takes the cup from you and guides you back towards the bowl. “Just not sure where to go.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person to ask,” you admit, trying not to get all girlish and swoony at the gentle press of his hand on your back. “I just ran home to my parents when I felt lost.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” He insists, his fingers twitching against your back. “Home is where you feel safest. It’s normal to want that when you are hurt. Emotionally or physically.”

“But it’s not where I want to stay.” Somehow talking to Will has always been easy. Even when you were in that place where you clammed up around him sometimes because your teenage hormones went out of control, you comfort and safety of him was enough to bring you back down. As it turns out, that’s true no matter how long you’ve been apart. “So we’re sort of in the same weird place.”

“Where would you go?” Will asks, comforted by the fact that you seem to be in the same boat. He’s always presented himself as very in charge and forward thinking, so finding himself floundering without a real plan was new.

“I have no idea.” It’s not a thing that you’re comfortable admitting, but somehow knowing that Will is feeling the same is a comfort. He always seemed so steady. “I just know that I’m not in the place I thought I would be by this age and I’m restless.”

He chuckles and nods in agreement. “Benny keeps telling me that I’m ready for another duty station.” Being in the military required moving every three to four years.

“You’re not thinking about going back in, are you?” Between his chronic pain and his PTSD — both from military service — your expression turns to one of deep concern and worry at the idea.

“No.” He quickly shakes his head. “That ship has sailed.” Even if he could pass the fitness requirements, he’s too old to go back to being a Captain. His peers are all too far ahead. “Just feeling that need for a new adventure.”

“I fully understand that.” The itch is something you have always shared, back when you used to dream about leaving the mountains and seeing everything the world had to offer. Will had succeeded in that front. At least far more effectively than you ever had. “Maybe…” When he hands you a fresh cup of punch you pause and thank him. “Maybe our paths will cross again? Who knows.”

“You can work anywhere.” He reminds you with a grin. “You should pick a place and go.”

“I would.” You shrug half-heartedly. “But I never got the taste for traveling alone.”

“Where would you want to go?” He asks curiously, wondering where you would go, what you would want to see. If those dreams had changed since you were a child.

“The ocean? The forests? Desert or huge cities?” Feeling ridiculous, you laugh at yourself and just shrug. “There’s so much of the world out there and I’ve barely ever left home.”

“Tropics.” Will decides. “Salt and sand. Beautiful breezes and sun kissing your skin.” His idea might be influenced by his own location in Florida.

“Sounds perfect.” And if the idea of being there with him is in your head, you’ll swear it’s only because you’re talking to him about it right here and now. “But again…I hate being alone. So it’s sort of a moot point.”

“I don’t understand how you aren’t married.” That has mystified him for years. Always expecting to hear the news that you were engaged every time he called his mom. It had surprised him when he had ended up engaged and you still had not found a steady boyfriend, although you had both ended up in the same single status after a few years.

“I guess…the right guy just never came along.” You’d sooner die than admit that every guy you’ve ever been with has been accidentally compared to the man standing in front of you. “It happens.”

“Prince Charming?” He hates that he could never be that guy for anyone, but it wasn’t him.

“Prince Charming is overrated.” Sipping your punch, something about the whole thing just makes your heart clench and it feels like the world is taunting you even more than it was when you saw him walk in the door. “All I ever wanted was a partner I could be proud of. That seems to be too tall of an order.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Will admits softly. “I know plenty of men who would jump at the chance to be with someone who just wanted to have a loyal, loving partner.”

“I guess I just haven’t met the same guys as you.” It hurts your heart, clutches it and squeezes tight, that you never could bring yourself to admit that you liked him. Not out loud. Not to anyone but your sister. Wondering what could have been has poisoned your chances at finding someone else to the degree that you were doing a phony love spell ritual in your backyard less than three hours ago. He is literally everything you ever wanted and he’s standing right in front of you — but you can’t say the words. “Just like…” you swallow hard, shoving down the ache in your chest. “I know plenty of girls who just want someone honest and caring.”

“I’m honest.” At least he is in his personal life. Work is a different story, but he has regrets about that. “I care.” He shrugs, his leather wearing biker look making him look a little more dangerous than normal, but never as dangerous as he actually is. “Point me to the girl.” It’s an invitation, wanting to see what you would say.

“Will…” It feels like he’s just shoving the red hot poker of years’ worth of yearning deeper into your chest and you shake your head. “I’m just saying. It shouldn’t be so hard for you to find someone to make you happy. You’re a sweet guy and you always have been.”

He stares at you for a long moment, something curling in his chest, and he realizes that you will never admit it. “Had someone in mind when I asked.” He admits.

“Then you should probably talk to her about it, not me.” Ugly disappointment rises in your throat like bile and you shift in place uncomfortably. Of course he has someone in mind. He’s incredible and he deserves that happiness.

He decides to be a little more blunt than normal since you are obviously not getting the hint. “I am.” He tells you, lifting a brow at you in amusement.

"You—" No. No. You heard him wrong. You had to have heard him wrong. There is no way in the world There is no way because if that's true then how much time did you throw away by keeping your mouth shut? "No. That's—" Your head spins and you put down your cup, deciding that there is absolutely no need for alcohol when your head is spinning like this already. "What?"

“Circles and light and all that’s might.” Will murmurs, starting to grin. “Give me what I wish for tonight.”

"Oh....oh no..." The clench of panic that grabs hold of your chest when he starts reciting the damn 'spell' that your sister had written down in her notebook -- the ridiculous words you had been in giggle fits over in your backyard a couple of hours ago -- makes you take a step back from him as embarrassment settles into every bone in your body. "Did you--" Oh you're going to absolutely massacre your sister. "That's the most awful prank anybody could ever play on a person. Is my sister put you up to this I'm going to kill her."

“What?” Will frowns at you, confused as to why you look completely mortified. He had thought it was cute. “No.” He shakes his head. “Put me up to what?” He murmurs your name and steps closer to you. “She didn’t put me up to anything.”

"So it's...a coincidence?" You swallow hard, trying to wrap your head around absolutely any of this situation. "That my sister talked me into doing a stupid love spell on the same weekend you come home?" If you could curl up into a ball and hide forever, you would do it instantly. It still hasn't hit you that he's said out loud -- in a reasonably straightforward way -- that he's interested in you. "And that you heard me?"

“Benny insisted I come home this weekend.” Will defends, even though he had started to realize what the trick was this year and if it backfired on Ben - he was going to murder him. “I— I was in the backyard. I heard you and your sister giggling like when we were kids, so I pulled the board in the fence.” There’s a section of fence that you can remove a board easily and see into the other yard. He had never admitted it, but it was how he had often watched you while you were reading until he realized how creepy it was.

"What board in the fence?" There is a privacy fence that runs between your houses but for some reason it never really divided your yards, and you can't say that you ever thought about it very much before. Or now, clearly, since you're astonished to find out that it ever had a loose board.

“The one near the tree.” He licks his lips and has the decency to blush slightly. “It’s come loose since eight grade.”

The way your heels dig into the floor beneath you, it's like you're trying to dig a hole to the center of the earth to fall into feet first. "How...um...how much did you hear? Or see?"

“I just want to see you.” He admits, setting the cup down to shove in his pockets. “I heard the giggles and the ‘spell’. It was cute, reminding me of when you went through that phase in high school.”

"We...got drunk on margaritas last night and she managed to make it sound like a silly, harmless thing..." Mortified doesn't even begin to describe the way you're feeling. Your whole face is on fire with it. "I'm so embarrassed I could evaporate...I don't even know what else to say."

“It’s cute.” He insists, smiling softly at you as he shuffles closer. “I didn’t do some kind of love spell, but I was glad I heard yours.”

"You--?" Swallowing the lump of fear in your throat, you manage to not back up a step when Will comes closer. "You...were glad?"

“I am.” He agrees, his smile widening slightly as he reaches out and takes ahold of your waist and steps closer to you. “Because now I know that the crush I’ve had on you for most of my life hasn’t been moot.”

"You...what?" You gasp out, eyes shooting up to meet his when you finally realize what he's said.

“Guilty.” He hums, his smile managing to curve wider and he nods. “You’ve been that girl that I always wanted and never thought I could have.”

Something inside you swells, actually absorbing the words with the soft way he's looking at you. "All you ever had to do was say the word."

“You too.” He points out, lifting his brows in amusement. “Years ago.”

"Well how was I supposed to know?" You defend, finding that that feeling in your chest is bubbling and transforming into laughter and disbelief.

“You ask.” Will chuckles, leaning in and brushing his nose against yours. “You don’t rely on Love potion number nine.”

"You could have asked too." The warmth of him washes over you like the most gorgeous invitation in the world, taking your breath away and inviting you closer all at once.

“I guess I could have.” He admits. “Now I know.”

"So..." One of his hands is on your hip and he's bent down to keep your faces close, so all you have to do to hear each other is murmur. "What are we going to do with this new information?"

“I think we are going to have to leave this party.” He pretends to care about that, but there’s much more interesting things to do.

“Just like that?” Wherever he wants to go, whatever he wants to do, it doesn’t matter. Even the chance to be close to him in any way is worth it.

“You want to stay?” He asks seriously. If you want to stay, he will. Just for you.

“I…want to dance with you,” you admit, even though it feels silly. “Just once. After that we can go anywhere you want.”

“We can dance.” He agrees, chuckling slightly and nodding. “Let’s wait for the next song to start.” This one is a little more peppy than he would want for a dance.

“So Benny dragged you out here, huh?” He has his arm around your waist now and something in the back of your head tells you to just keep talking so you don’t start to worry it’s a dream. “Did he, um…did he…ya know…know?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” If he did, once things were official, he would probably crow and take all the credit for it. “Probably. I know he knew that I always had a thing for you.”

Sighing slightly, you shake off a laugh and bask again in the warmth of having him beside you. “I think our siblings may have meddled.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He rolls his eyes. “Can’t be mad at them, though.” He huffs. “Not when we would have been really bad about doing this ourselves.”

“Clearly.” You huff quietly. “We have been really bad about it.”

“Obviously.” Will snorts right as the song transitions into a slow song. “Ready to dance?”

“It feels like prom all over again.” When he holds his hand out to you, you settle your palm to his and try not to let out a shaky breath at how alarmingly right it feels.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that night?” He asks as he guides you out to the floor and spins you around to fit into his arms like you’ve always belonged.

“How badly?” Giddy glee and joyful awe are starting to supplant the confusion and disbelief in your heart, and you melt into him when he takes your hand in his on the dance floor.

“Remember how you kept asking if your lipstick was messed up?” Will reminds you, the hormones and embarrassment of youth had seemed impossible to overcome, but now you are grown. If it doesn’t work out, hopefully you could remain friends, but he doesn’t foresee it being an issue. You know him inside and out. “I was trying to decide if you would slap me if I stole a kiss.”

“It…wouldn’t have been stealing.” Your cheeks burn all over again at the memory. At how pathetically transparent you had been — but apparently not transparent enough. “That was my very bad attempt at hinting that I wanted you to kiss me.”

“No, I got it.” He promises, his blue eyes flashing possessively. “But I’m man enough to admit I don’t want to kiss you with an audience.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Think we can wait that long?”

“It’s been like fifteen years,” you point out, smothering a laugh at how ridiculous that actually sounds out loud. And how badly you’ve wanted a moment just like this one for so much longer than that. “I think a few more minutes won’t kill us.”

“It might.” He teases. “You look even more beautiful than you did on prom night.”

“Are you…” A smirk broadens your smile exponentially. “Are you flirting with me, William Miller?”

“Flirted with you a lot over the years.” He snorts. “But yes I am.”

“I guess it’s just the first time I’ve noticed.” You laugh work. Self-consciously. “Or wasn’t convinced it was just wishful thinking.”

“So tell me the truth.” Will grins. “Did you really drink that concoction you and your sister brewed? It smelled worse than. Benny’s gym bag.”

“Of course I drank it.” One hand would clutch your plastic pearl necklace but you would have to stop holding his hand and that’s simply not going to happen tonight. Instead, you pout to pretend to be offended. “It’s called committing to the bit.”

“Dedication.” He laughs, shaking his head and pulling you closer. “Then I think you should be happy to know that it worked.”

“Oh yeah?” The grin on your face turns beaming all over again, but you can’t help teasing him. “That little love spell planted a whole lifetime of yearning in you?”

“Nah.” He admits that easier than he had expected. “Just made it easier to talk about all this.”

“It did.” As much as you hate to admit it, your younger siblings’ meddling may have paid off. And you are convinced they meddled together. “It did, and I’m not upset about that at all.”

“You shouldn’t be upset about anything, beautiful.” Will murmurs softly, rocking you to the beat and smiling into your eyes.

Shrugging slightly, you're actually able to sink into his gaze for the very first time and end up feeling that ache in your chest twist in an entirely new way. "I'm a little upset we wasted so much time," you admit. "But better late than never."

“Yes it is.” Will pulls you off the dance floor as the song ends and starts to head towards the doors.

If you could think about anything beside the feeling of his arm around you, you might have remembered to fire off a text to your sister that you are taking off from the party early. But then, if you could think about anything else you might have noticed your sister standing on the other side of the room with Benny, giggling like conspiratorial idiots.

But it doesn't matter at all. It doesn't matter, because when you and Will make it out into the chilly night air, his arm tightens around you and you slip yours around his waist. Twined together like you were always meant to be.

He had driven. So he has the keys to the SUV. Guiding you over to it, he frames your body between the door and himself, pressing closer.

Your pulse ticks up immediately, heart rate skyrocketing, but you don't hesitate. Not when the thing – the person – you've wanted since you were old enough to want anyone at all. You reach up, hands set on Will's shoulders, and use that leverage to pull yourself up just a tiny bit more. This time it's your nose that nudges against his, but you don't pull away.

“So pretty.” Will murmurs, leaning against you more, feeling your body against the length of his as he tilts his head and fuses his lips to yours. Years of wanting pouring into the kiss.

Your hold tightens on him, hands sliding around his neck and into his long hair as his own wrap around your waist to drag you flush against him. There is no hesitation for either of you, diving deep into the kiss and sharing a mutual, needy moan at the fast-beating desire in that first kiss. You've both kept it locked up for far too long to pretend anymore. Now that the flood gates are open it seems to be all or nothing.

For Will, sinking into your embrace feels like coming home. The instant acceptance and love that swells make him desperate for more as he starts to lick into your mouth deeper.

For the hungry way you start to devour each other, you may as well be the teenagers you were when this mutual infatuation first started. If anyone were out in the parking lot to witness it, you're sure you would have gotten cat called or interrupted with a loud clearing of someone's throat to be shooed away to a more private location. As it is? The relative privacy of the parking lot means that you forget yourself and are tugging on the strands of Will's hair as his hands start to map the curves and contours of your body.

Will groans into your mouth, his arms banded around you and holding you close before trailing over your dress. He’s not shy about touching you, cupping your ass and his hardening cock twitches against your stomach. The whimper that he pulls out of you is unapologetic, knees shaking even as you tug on his hair sharply to pull a groan out of him as well. This is much more than a kiss would have been fifteen years ago. Still just as needy, but deeper, more sure. Will knows what he is capable of.

It takes a long time before either of you are willing to part, and when that time comes you're panting desperately while you try to maintain any sort of composure. "I, um—" But your thought breaks off when you realize you just can't string more than two words together yet. All you can think is more.

He grins, feeling as disoriented as you look, but he's been trained to handle overwhelming situations. "We should leave." He murmurs before leaning in and stealing another kiss. "Before we get arrested for public indecency."

"At the risk of sounding very teenage." You can't help but giggle at that, feeling like you're bubbling over in every way. "My parents are home. So maybe your place?"

He chuckles and lifts a brow, considering all of his options. "We could do that. Or we could go get a hotel room."

"Beaver Meadows?" Raising your own eyebrow to meet his, you offer the first hotel you can think of. The resort ranch for mountain tourists is on the other side of town but it's better than driving an hour out to Fort Collins.

He tilts his head slightly, shrugging one shoulder. "That's up to you. Don't know how you feel about being in my old bedroom and possibly hearing Benny catcall outside the door." His younger, dumber brother absolutely would.

"I care less about Benny and more about having to look your mother in the eyes tomorrow morning," you admit, laughing at even the idea of it. "I don't think she needs to hear me riding you."

Will's eyes flutter slightly and he growls softly. "Hotel it is." He decides, nodding to himself. "Do you want to swing by the house and get something? Or we can both do the walk of shame tomorrow."

"Nuh-uh." You shake your head animatedly, reaching up to place a much softer kiss on his lips. "I'm not ashamed of you. I don't care how many people see us in the same clothes or figure out what it means."

He hums and his hand slides up your back as he steps back, pulling you with him to open the passenger door. "Then let's go."

"We do have to make one stop." When you climb into the SUV together, you buckle your seatbelt and sigh happily as his fingers tangle with yours. He raises his eyebrow again but you shrug. "Condoms. I haven't been on a date in years so I stopped worrying about birth control."

"Fuck." Will hisses under his breath, cock twitching at that new piece of information. He can't say that he's not disappointed to not be able to feel you bare, but your comfort is more important than his ideal night. "Condoms, roger."

"I know." You squeeze his hand, sharing the feeling that you would rather be as close as possible. "But I doubt we want to risk it without."

He huffs out a small laugh, tapping the steering wheel after the engine is brought to life and he puts it in drive. "Don't bet on it." He jokes.

Turning your head immediately, you stare at him for a second before letting out a shaky laugh. "Not the first time," you bargain, feeling warm and flush and...deeply giddy at the way things are unfolding around you.

He flashes you a grin, feeling just as light hearted. "Yes ma'am." He promises, squeezing your hand and then looking back at the road as he pulls out.

******

It's a quick drive, mostly because Red Feather Lakes is such a small town. There's a Halloween party going on at the resort that you and Will look like you're immensely prepared for, but you just check into the last available room and happily accept the pair of leys handed to you by the young desk agent.

Will might have paid for the room, but he lets you lead the way to the room. Wanting to watch your ass as you walk, and to allow you time to change your mind if you wanted. Just because you both have wanted to be with each other since you were teenagers doesn't necessarily mean you are ready to jump into bed with him and he would respect that.

"Here we go." The room at the end of the fourth-floor hallway clicks open with a tap of your keycard, and you nudge open the door to reveal the ranch-themed room waiting for you. The rug looks like cowhide and the bedhead has horns, but you're barely looking at it. Instead you turn around, much more inclined to take in the sight of Will Miller as you reach for his hand to drag him inside with you.

You are enthusiastic, making him chuckle as he closes the door behind him. “Nice room.” He hums, not looking around, but staring at you. “But this view is better.”

Completely addicted now that you’ve had a taste of him, you toss your purse onto the nearest table without a second thought and go straight into his arms. “I’m certain mine is even better.”

He doubts that, but the eagerness in your eyes makes him groan as he pulls you against him again. “You are so damn beautiful.”

“Please tell me you put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?” Once you have him to yourself you’re not going to want to stop, so you’re damn well going to ask the question now.

He smirks and winks at you. “Of course I did.”

Your face splits into a grin. “You’re perfect.”

Will reaches up and caresses your cheek. “Shit.” His eyes widen. “We didn’t get the condoms.”

“Shit.” That grin slackens, and you realize along with a drop in your gut that you’d gotten so distracted by having Will’s hand inch up your thigh and under the skirt of your dress while he drove that you’d totally forgotten to stop.

“It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath, cursing himself for being too distracted by you. “You stay here. Get comfortable.” He points at himself. “I will be back in five minutes.”

"Thank you." Safety means the world to both of you, and you're not about to turn what could possibly be the best night of your life into the reason he resents you five years down the line when it results in a little kid and a marriage he would have felt forced to commit to. No way. If you and Will are going to be together you're going to make that decision together, not because of an accident.

“Five minutes.” He promises before he is out the door. He will make it in three and a half flat, but he adds extra time as a precaution.

As soon as the door closes behind him, you look around the room in a more flustered state of nervous excitement than you've ever been in your entire life. It takes about thirty seconds before you can think coherently enough to pick up the hotel phone and order a room service tray to be sent up -- ordering food that can safely sit until you're hungry and a bottle of wine to share because it feels more romantic that way. After that, you grab your phone from your purse and finally send that text to your sister.

Sissy: Don't wait up for me tonight. I left the party early.

Incoming text: You left with Will!!! Omgggggg it worked! You owe me that speech at your weddddddding!

Sissy: You and Benny are still on my shitlist. But yes. I left with Will. Happy Halloween, kid.

Instead of waiting for a reply, you put your phone on silent and tuck it back in your purse, sitting down amongst the pillows on the bed just seconds before the door opens again.

He’s out of breath and probably looked like a fucking idiot, but he doesn’t care. He’s got an entire box of condoms and he’s back before the time frame. “Got ‘em.”

"Four minutes." You grin, pointing at the clock on the wall. "I was just about to get undressed for you to have a fun surprise when you got back, but you're too efficient."

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Will throws the lock on the door and shoots you a dirty grin. “I like shows.”

"I did not think anyone was going to see what I have on under this dress," you warn him, but you shrug your shoulders and reach for the zipper of your costume. If he has a problem with the dumb saying on your little bootie shorts, you don't really care. They're cute and fun and that's what counts.

"I don't care what you have on under the dress." Will promises you. "It'll be on the floor soon enough." He strips off the biker vest and starts to kick off the boots he had worn with the outfit. They are his regular boots but they are laced up loose, so they slide off easily.

It's too unbelievable that you're actually undressing with Will with the purpose of climbing into bed together, that it almost seems like the tiny black booty short with the bright yellow Slippery When Wet logo on the ass that are revealed when your dress hits the floor, are simply there for comic relief. Like you need to break the tension of the situation and remember that you're just people.

You turn around to show him the lettering on your ass and he starts to chuckle. "Oh baby girl, I truly hope so." He pulls his shirt over his head, the last scar he collected on that botched job with the guys is healed, but it's still pink skinned so it looks alarming against the rest of his body. "I want to feel how wet you get."

"For you?" You grin, turning around to face him again. "It'll be record breaking, I promise." With just your bra and tiny shorts on, you start to climb onto the bed but pause when you catch sight of a new wound amongst all the well-healed scars. It doesn't matter what it is, or how he got it. You bend down, placing a soft kiss on the pink skin that stands out against his tan, and then settle your knees on either side of his hips. There are more clothes to shed, but the battle wounds that mark his skin are a stark reminder of how close you came to never having this moment together at all.

Will grabs your hands, holding them for a moment while he stares at you. The softness of your touch was soothing, and he lifts your hands to his lips. "You've always been there for me." He murmurs. "Now I want to see what we can be together."

"Truth is?" You squeeze his hands gently before letting go and letting your hands drop to his belt, toying with the buckle before he nods his consent and you start to work the strap loose. "I've always been yours. So whatever we're going to be? I'm all in."

"Me too." He can quickly agree with that. "I'll just – I should have asked you out when I came home from boot camp."

“It’s alright. We got here eventually.” His belt pulls loose from his jeans and you fuse your mouth to his, letting the kiss burn you and swallow you and take you wherever you’re going to go tonight. Room service will be left outside your door and you’ll refuel for round two when you’re ready.

Will touches you, mapping your body with his hands and memorizing every curve and dip with pleasure. Finally touching you like he has imagined over the years.

It’s far more certain than it would have been then. Wandering hands have purpose and searching kisses pressed against bared skin find their mark every time. Those damn condoms are probably the only thing that keep the first time from lasting more than five minutes — both of you are so touch starved that finally getting the touch you’ve been wanting feels exponentially more wonderful.

Will pants, collapsing against you before rolling onto his side and bringing you with him. One leg dragged over his hips to keep you close and your chest pressed against his as he catches his breath. “Fuck.” He chuckles, unable to stop touching you even though he’s exhausted from how overwhelming his orgasm was. “I think I died and this is heaven.”

“Noooo,” you giggle against his chest, damp with sweat, and leave a kiss over his heart. “If you died we can’t do that anymore and that can’t be the only time we do that.”

His eyes are closed and he smiles. "You mean we aren't both dead?" He jokes.

“No, babe.” You laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “You’re thinking of le petit morte.”

“Same thing right?” He grins, rubbing his hand up and down your slightly sweaty back. “We should have done this prom night.”

“Can you imagine?” The thought settles over you like a dreamy blanket. “We would have been inseparable.”

“We’d have four kids by now.” Will predicts. “I’d probably be a Major.”

“You think?” It sounds positively dreamy, you have to admit. Except for one detail. “I don’t think you would have stayed in. You’d have retired like you did anyway. But I like the sound of a big family.”

“Probably not.” He will disagree with you on that. “The stability for that many kids.” He points out. “I wouldn’t have chased contracts.”

“Well…” Knowing that he’s safer now and that he’s searching for a new adventure anyway, you offer him a smile. “Who knows what would have happened if we’d done this back then. But we get to decide what happens next.”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and pulls you closer. “We will have to talk about that.”

“Hold that thought.” Pressing another kiss to his skin, you crawl out from under his arm and wrap yourself up in a robe to slip out to the hall and grab the room service tray. You bring it back inside along with the bottle of wine and shoot him a grin. “I planned ahead,” you tell him, setting down the charcuterie tray on the room’s coffee table.

"You are perfect." Will groans, tucking his arm under his head and watching you with zero shame. He still can't believe you are here, even after taking off the condom to dispose of in the little trash can by the bed. "Are you hungry now, or do you want to wait?"

“Maybe we can eat and drink and talk?” It seems like a very civilized way to do it, even if you’re going to be doing some very uncivilized leering at the same time. Will looks even better with his clothes off than you ever dreamed.

"Bring it over here." He smirks as he pats the bed beside him. The bare spot noticeable now that you slipped out of it. "We can eat in bed just this one time, I think."

“Special permission for a special occasion.” You agree with a nod. The tray is beautifully set up but the cheese is set aside in a container on ice as you requested and the kitchen has sent up some chocolate dipped strawberries as well. “I guess they got our vibe when we checked in.” It wouldn’t have been too hard to do, of course, but it makes you smile as you slip back under the covers beside him.

"Wonder if they think it's an affair or elopement." Will takes the bottle from you, sitting up and quickly peeling off the foil to uncap the cork.

“Maybe.” The two wine glasses that came with everything are basic and a little on the small side, which is probably good for balancing everything in bed or on nightstands. “How very mysterious of us.”

"Very mysterious." Will agrees as he pours out the wine and sets the bottle onto the nightstand so it doesn't get knocked over. "I think their theories will only get more absurd the more noise we make." He teases, tapping his glass to yours.

“In that case I’ll be louder,” you tease, leaning over to steal a kiss before your first sip of wine.

He snorts and takes a sip of his wine. "I wonder if those shit heads set us up for this entire thing." He ponders. "The spell, being here and Benny reminding me that you had moved home. Knowing I would go into the backyard."

“Oh, I guarantee it.” Although you studiously avoid mentioning that your sister is already predicting a wedding. That is far too much pressure. “They’re going to gloat forever.”

"Jesus." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Yeah they are. Unless we can get them together."

“Do we really want to do that, though?” It sounds amusing, but the logistics would be a nightmare. “They’d gloat and try to be cuter than us.”

"It would be mildly amusing." He chuckles. "But you're right. The headache wouldn't be worth it."

“But…” Glancing up at him, you take another sip of wine and reach for the tray to keep your hands busy. “We should probably talk. About…whatever this is.”

“We should.” Will agrees. His face pulls into something serious, wanting to take this conversation cautiously, not make demands or put too much pressure on you. “Do you want to go first?”

“I’m not sure I know where to start,” you admit, although it’s mostly out of fear that you’ll ask too much and scare him off.

“Do you see yourself staying here?” He asks. “Would you want me to move? Try long distance?”

“I never intended to stay here. It was supposed to be temporary and I’ve been here for years.” The offer to have him move is unexpected, but more than anything you know that the third alternative won’t be satisfying or comfortable for you. “I don’t think long distance would be ideal, but I know that moving in together right away is way too much to ask for.” The two of you slowly start to snack on your tray and you consider him beside you. So incredibly handsome, loyal, and always a pillar of strength. “But…if you wanted me to come out to Florida, I would.”

“Ben and I bought a house.” He explains. “It was cheaper than renting and it’s one that needed some work.” He shrugs slightly. “If you wanted to come to Florida, you have a place to stay until you decide if you could stand me long term or not.” He huffs out a laugh to keep it lighthearted.

“I’m not worried about that.” Slipping your free hand into his, you lace your fingers together and give it a gentle, encouraging squeeze. “It’s…sort of a relationship test drive. Dive into the deep end and see how we do. When we’re ready to say it’s working, I can officially make the move.” In your heart you know it will. It’s all you’ve wanted for so long that you’re willing to fight tooth and nail to have it. To have him.

“That would be good.” He agrees with you about being cautious, even though he believes it will work out. “Especially since you are mobile.”

“My office is wherever I am.” You nod and press a kiss to his hand before letting go again. “And where I want to be is with you.”

“So why don’t you come visit me this next week?” He offers. “You can see where we live. See if you like it.”

“I feel like I should pinch myself.” When you smile at him, it is bright and warm, tinged with disbelief. “Teenage me is getting everything she ever wanted.”

“That’s a good thing, baby.” He reminds you. “You should have everything you want.”

"So should you." As far as you're concerned? Having him completes that list of wants in a way you never expected. You had given up on the dream of Will Miller years ago, only to find your world turned upside down and the man of your teenage dreams in bed beside you.

“Right now, I can’t think of anything else I want than what I have right here.” He murmurs softly.

"Oh yeah?" You face splits into a grin all over again. "Well, I'm very glad we agree."

“So now that we have a plan, what else?” He picks up a cube of cheese and pops it into his mouth. “Do you want to go on birth control? Do you want to use condoms? Do you want to start working on kids?”

"Those are three very different options." The casual way he tosses out kids as an option makes your ears burn like they're on fire and your heart skip two beats. "Offering me space in your house and talking about kids while we eat snacks in bed after the first time we have sex?" You giggle softly, brimming with disbelief at how right it all feels. Still, you have to tease him. "Might as well whip out a ring or plan an elopement, Miller."

“Jewelry stores are closed.” Will hums and smirks at you as he takes off the skull ring he still has on his finger. “But this could work.”

That light, ribbing tone evaporates from your voice and your eyes widen, flicking between his face and the ring. "Are you...do you really mean it?" Instead of being high and laughing, your voice cracks in shock, but only because you've hit another level of shock and awe in what was already a perfect night.

He has only been partly joking, but the second your eyes go wide, he realizes that he’s serious. He’s known you all his life, he’s loved you for most of it. If Tom’s death taught him anything, it’s that he never knows when his ticket might be punched. Why shouldn’t he be serious? “We could get you a real ring later on.” He rationalizes. “But a skull ring is appropriate for Halloween.”

"How about this?" The way you just want to leap forward and say yes and dive in headfirst is the sex and the wine and the fantasies talking. Will deserves all of that, but also the measure of love that is support and care. He deserves someone who is going to take care of him. And if you're going to be that person, you want to do it right. "I'm going to wear this skull until we decide that we're ready for me to move to Florida once and for all. When that happens, we can go ring shopping and start talking about kids. How does that sound?" You really don't think it will take long. Not with the way tonight has gone. "If that's in two weeks or two months or two years, it doesn't matter. We decide together."

“That sounds perfect.” He flashes you a perfect set of white teeth with a gigantic smile. “Happy Halloween, baby.” He murmurs before he presses his lips to yours, thinking that Benny’s Halloween prank might have actually been a good one this year.

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[sol91]

Alone

LOG ENTRY: SOL 90

It occurred to me today that someday someone from earth might actually listen to these logs, so I figure I should record a needlessly expository one to get everyone up to speed.

My name is Lena Luthor.

It's been 90 martian days since I landed here with the rest of the crew. That's what, 92 earth days? Mars spins just a little on the slow side.

On sol 6 a dust storm was going to knock over the rocket we brought to take us home, so the rest of the crew went home and left me behind to die. Well, they thought I was already dead and left. To be honest, not their fault at all.

So I'm alone here on mars, no way home, no way to communicate, only enough food for a year, and everyone thinks I'm dead. Which sounds miserable but luckily I do have this disco music to listen to, courtesy of Commander Lewis.

And, if I can get these potatoes to grow in martian soil, which I definitely can, then I can survive long enough for the next mission to arrive.

Which should be in about 4 years.

Which does honestly sound like a long time to be alone. But I've been alone before. Most of the time, to be honest, it's how I do my best work.

I don't know, maybe I could have done things differently. Asked out that reporter when I had the chance. Not gone to fucking mars.

On the plus side, if I do make it home, she'll be so impressed she'll have to go out with me. I'm pretty sure the president is basically obligated to deliver a eulogy for every astronaut who kicks the bucket up here so everyone in the country must know my name by now. They'll probably show the satellite images and everything— actually, I wonder if they've figured out I'm alive by now. What else do all those NASA technicians even do all day?

Anyway, that's basically the situation. Feel free to keep watching these if you want to hear about my adventures cleaning solar panels and fixing the water reclaimer. Yeah, that'll sell movie tickets.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 91

Fuck. Oh god. Okay. Something just opened the airlock from the outside. There's no locks on it, because why the fuck would there be? There's not supposed to be anything else on this planet. I have like 30 seconds before that airlock opens and I have no idea what to do. Obviously there's no windows in the airlock for structural reasons, I guess the engineers back at NASA didn't consider the hab might be invaded by space aliens. Alright. If this is my last message I have some things I want to say. Commander Lewis your music is awful. Lex you can rot in hell. Kara I always thought you were hot.

Oh shit here we go—

Kara?

Kara Danvers stepped into the hab. She was wearing a button down shirt and khakis, no space helmet. "I've never held my breath that long, that was crazy." She said, panting slightly.

"Kara, what—" Lena began. But before she could finish forming a sentence, Kara was hugging her.

In the hierarchy of times you wanted to run into your crush, not having showered in 3 months in a room full of manure was pretty much bottom of the list. But right now, Lena didn't care. The hug lasted at least 30 seconds before Lena pulled back.

"Kara, what the fuck is going on? How are you here?"

"Oh! I'm Supergirl" Kara said simply.

"That… actually makes a lot of sense"

"I was at the office when I heard you were still alive and I just—" She shook her head. "NASA had some complicated plan to get you home, but I just thought, how far away can Mars really be?"

Lena laughed.

"You ready to go home?" Kara asked.

"Very." Lena was already crossing the room to don her spacesuit.

"Also, I was wondering" Kara said, more hesitant now. "Do you have plans for dinner tomorrow?"

Lena turned to look at Kara. "Do I have plans for dinner tomorrow?" She repeated, smiling. "Kara, I live on mars."

"I— right. Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

"I would love that."

"Great!" Said Kara, "It's a date! I promise it'll be—" "Don't you dare say it." interjected Lena. "—out of this world."