#Yeah he's a devil but he's also kind of a swell guy!

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I'm glad Yurgir is my friend, he's so nice :)

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[junova]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.

if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3

pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader

concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.

wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]

warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨

Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.

Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.

It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.

He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.

Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.

He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.

Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.

He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.

The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.

When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.

As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.

“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”

You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.

“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.

Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.

No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.

“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.

Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.

“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.

“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”

Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.

“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.

Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.

“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.

“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.

Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.

At least in their eyes.

“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.

“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.

“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.

It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.

When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.

In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.

“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.

“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”

Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.

You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.

When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.

Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.

“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.

Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.

Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.

You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.

“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.

But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.

“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.

“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.

“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.

“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.

“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.

“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.

Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.

Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.

He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as

lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.

When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.

Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.

Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.

Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.

“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.

“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.

“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”

Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.

The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.

“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.

“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.

You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.

“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.

“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.

“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.

“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.

“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.

“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”

The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.

The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.

“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.

When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.

He could tell, too.

You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.

Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.

Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.

“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.

They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.

“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.

“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.

“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.

“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.

Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.

“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.

“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.

As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.

“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.

“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.

“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.

Because you’re here.

It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.

“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.

The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”

“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.

Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.

He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.

“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.

“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.

You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.

“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.

If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.

“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.

It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.

“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.

“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.

“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”

“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”

The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.

But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.

“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.

“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.

“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.

“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.

“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.

“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.

“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.

The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.

He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.

The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.

Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.

“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.

“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.

It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.

In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.

Steve picked you.

It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.

Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.

“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.

Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.

You had a feeling he already did.

His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.

“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.

“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.” You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.

Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.

Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.

“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.

Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.

The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.

You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?

Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.

“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.

“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.

“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.

“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.

“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.

“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.

“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”

“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.

“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.

“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.

“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.

“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.

Someone you wanted more.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.

He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.

He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.

With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.

tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙆 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by 🐓 anon. im still screaming over this.

∘ request: [insert the 14 asking for more Sapnap humor in a pt. 1.5 of Meet the Jacobses]

∘ pairings: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: smut (18+), nsfw, language, drinking, mentions of Todd the frat boy, lots of dialogue, biting, asphyxiation

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ a/n: this one goes out to the babes in the gc. ily.

i stole the Brick idea from the Jesse McCartney movie, Keith. I'm sorry. [tw for that link - sad & jesse mccartney not talking about beautiful souls]

also thank you everyone for your support on this series. when my friends and I conjured this up, I never thought I would be at the point where I get to share peoples art/paylists/etc. I'm so thankful for all of you.

okay I'll stop crying. happy reading and have a great week! :)

The sun beat down against your skin, your mind drifting to whether or not you should apply more sunscreen. Karl jumped into the light blue water in front of you, the water splashing out to almost completely soak you. You frowned at him as he came up for air, blowing you a kiss mockingly.

Sapnap’s cousins started tackling Karl, the chorus of laughter echoing around the pool. You stretched your legs out beneath the table, leaning into the shade of the umbrella as you watched them roughhouse.

Sapnap came out from the pool house, opening a beer bottle for you before taking the seat beside you. He sighed, buttoning the top of his shirt as he watched the boys. “Did you have a good time at the party yesterday? I dipped after an hour,” he asked, pushing his sunglasses to rest on top of his head.

You shrugged slightly, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t wait to tell your roommate how lavishly you’d been living. The fact that you were lounging by a heated pool, drinking beer from Copenhagen with the sons of millionaires was nearly mind-boggling to you.

You wet your lips, squinting your eyes as you looked at him. “I honestly have no idea. I was kind of just there as a Karl accessory,” you joked, making him chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I get that,” he flipped off one of the cousins as they threatened to throw water at him. “It’s always the Karl show around here,” he added. You raised your eyebrows at him and he backtracked. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. He’s a good guy; everyone’s just obsessed with him.”

You nodded slightly. “Yeah, he’s definitely the star baby,” you joked, making him laugh. “I need to ask you…” You bit your lip voice trailing off as you searched for the night words.

He sent you a closed-mouth smile. “About my mom and Karl?” He asked, biting back a blithe expression. It shocked you how calm he was about the situation.

You chuckled nervously. “I swear I won’t bring it up again, I’m just,” you cut yourself off, unable to describe the question marks pulsing through your thoughts.

He snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “I know right,” he reassured. “When I found out, I almost broke Karl’s nose,” he chided. “Not that I was like… angry it was my mom but out of how weird it was.”

“Yeah it is really fucking weird,” you agreed, laughing slightly.

He gestured as if to thank you for understanding. “I mean, Karl’s a great guy. He was my best friend for a long time but…” He made a face suggesting his discomfort and you snicked. “That’s my mom, man.” You giggled wholeheartedly at this, making him laugh too.

“What are you guys talking about?” Karl asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, dripping wet from his pool time adventures.

“Speak of the Devil and he shall appear,” you joked, making Sapnap wink at you. “Tacitus’ Annals,” you answered, making Sapnap nod at you.

He chewed on his lip, with a calm expression as he supported your lie. “I was telling your girlfriend how much I enjoyed his love of Nero,” he continued, you bit back a smile.

Karl ruffled his hair out in a towel. “Come on now,” he grumbled, calling the two of you on your bullshit.

Sapnap squinted as he looked up at him. “Karl supremacy. As always,” he answered with a touch of quiet sarcasm, making Karl roll his eyes playfully as he took to the other seat beside you.

Karl ran his fingers into his hair. “You wanna get matching tattoos together, Sapnap?” He quipped; Sapnap sending him a smug expression.

“Why? What were you thinking?” He asked, knowing he was walking into whatever Karl was setting up.

Karl pulled the leg of his swim trunks off his leg a bit, furrowing his brows. “I wanna get your mom’s name on the top of my thigh,” he teased, biting his lip. You rolled your eyes playfully.

Sapnap let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh my God, that’s so funny. I totally didn’t see that coming.”

Karl took a sip of your beer and you spoke up. “I think you’d look good with a tattoo, Sapnap. All jokes aside, you’ve got a great body,” you mused, sending him a wink. Sapnap bit back a smile looking at Karl, who you could already tell was glaring back at him. “Side note, I was meaning to ask you. There’s a guy that’s in Karl’s frat,” you paused, trying to remember what Karl had said Todd’s real name was when you were pinning his auction number on him.

Sapnap raised his eyebrows. “Oh, Mark?”

You pointed at him. “Yes, the fake Romney.”

Sapnap snorted. “He did that on campus too?” Karl nodded, a look of disappointment spreading across their faces.

“Speaking of Todd Mark, the king of the Brick” Karl kicked his feet beneath your chair before continuing, “I heard there’s a bonfire tonight,” he probed, making Sapnap slowly shake his head in disapproval.

You raised an eyebrow at the two. “What’s the Brick?”

Sapnap seemed to have already made up his mind on the situation. “A fucking cesspool,” Sapnap grumbled, sipping from his bottle as Karl tsked. Sapnap tilted his head. “You really wanna take her to the Brick? People get together and smoke crack over there. The fact that,” he paused to furrow his brows at you slightly, “Todd Mark? is the benefactor should say something,” he stated, lips curling into an uneasy expression.

You peered over your shoulder at Karl as if to ask if he were crazy. Karl swatted off your gesture. “They don’t smoke crack this time of year. All the locals are back visiting for break.”

Sapnap shook his head again in unease. You chewed your lip, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t know… Sapnap, do you wanna have a movie night instead?” You joked, making Karl sigh behind you.

Sapnap mimicked your mock severity. “Yeah, a stay in and cuddle?”

“Of course,” you repeated.

Karl wheezed. “No, we’re going.”

Without missing a beat, Sapnap chimed back. “Maybe you can take my mom instead?” Karl’s expression flattened at his words and you nodded, high fiving Sapnap in mock victory.

Despite Sapnap’s hesitation, you all went to what they referred to as The Brick. In reality, it was a spot on the edge of a lake. They only called it the Brick because of Todd’s dad, a racecar driver who claimed the post back when he was in high school and later bought it. A large bonfire burned in the center of the space, various people around your age and a bit younger were either dancing to the music coming from one of the souped-up sports cars or shotgunning beers. You pushed away the thought of your stingy fire marshall back home who―more than once―had reported you and your family for “overactive cookouts.”

“Overactive,” meaning your dad and Clay were failing at not catching hotdogs on fire when the two would get lost in a chat about a mutual videogame when the families would cross the fence line in the summer.

As soon as you had stepped foot on the gravel, Karl was welcomed back like some kind of celebrity, so you stayed close to Sapnap. He would lean towards your height, pointing people out that Karl had mentioned in the past or those worth noting. You nodded along, soaking in what he had to tell you and laughing at his jokes.

A random guy strolled past the two of you, making Sapnap purse his lips. “Hey, Sapnap. How’s your mom?” One of the countless jokes thrown at him since you’d arrived.

He tilted his head with a mock look of questioning. “Didn’t your parents just get divorced, Jeff?” He deflected. Jeff’s face dropped slightly as he moved on. You always found yourself struggling not to laugh at how well Sapnap was at counteracting the jabs at his mom and Karl. Most of you felt guilty for how long he had dealt with it.

Karl watched you carefully as you sat down beside Sapnap on one of the vast benches; hands shoved in his pockets as the group around him caught up. You were glad to have someone around like Sapnap, despite the fact that you often went to parties. In the past, it was more of a bi-annual thing, but since being with Karl, you found yourself shoulder to shoulder with nameless people in a line doing shots every other Thursday.

You laughed as Sapnap joked about avoiding the drinks at the Brick because of the mites in the water and the STDs in the beer. “So, I never asked how you met Karl?” He queried, sticking his hands into the pocket of his Baja hoodie.

You smiled slightly. “Uh…” Shameless thoughts of you on your knees in a random building when you barely knew his name paced through your head like a quickfire of serotonin. “We had a lecture together and he liked my handwriting.” Sapnap smirked, chuckling slightly at your words.

Karl’s eyes were trained on the two of you, demeanor shifting each time one of you leaned towards the other to hear over the music or the two of you bumping each other’s arms to grab your attention. You knew he wasn’t jealous, but his look of curiosity was almost hilarious to you. Sapnap stuck by your side while Karl introduced you to his friends. He was basically your encyclopedia on the newer people as Karl would go off on a tangent with them.

The fact that Karl was so close to all of them and was so popular made your heart swell with pride. You were used to Karl’s deadpanned glares at most of his frat brothers and his snide comments, but now he was welcomed back like he was some kind of hero returning from the war.

After saying goodbye to Sapnap for the day, you threaded your fingers with Karl’s, enjoying the time where it was just the two of you. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, smoothing a kiss against your skin. “So… Sapnap’s mom…” you began, making him chew the inside of his cheek. “Where… did it happen?”

He looked down at you with a perked eyebrow before raising his sights forward, pulling you off the street where the two of you were walking. You followed him as the pair of you snuck through between the houses and across the backyards until the two of you were at Sapnap’s house again. Through the front windows, you could see him talking to his sibling in the kitchen.

Karl grabbed your hand, leading you along the side of the estate and toward the pool house. You wanted to groan at the thought before he pulled you through the door with him. “Are you serious?” You hissed, looking around at the dark place. Karl fought not to smirk as he peered out through one of the windows, watching the lights in Sapnap’s house turn out.

The moonlight streamed through one of the slender windows, illuminating his face and washing his features clean. Your gaze trailed along his arms; his tattoos peeking out from beneath his hoodie as he reached up to lock the door.

He turned back to face you, walking closer to you. “Did you have fun today?” He asked, plopping down on one of the couches and pulling you into his lap. He moved your arms to rest around his neck, pressing his lips to your skin. “I feel like I didn’t see you at all. Sapnap’s a bogart,” he muttered jokingly, settling his hands on your hips.

You scoffed before leaning toward him, pressing your lips against his. “Make it up to me,” you murmured, raking your fingers into his hair. “I think I selfishly need you to ruin me here; you know. Like a cleansing of you and Ms. Scarlet,” you chided.

He bit his lip, eyes pulsing with lust as he fought not to grin. You pressed your lips against his, turning to lay back on the couch and yank him on top of you. He chuckled into your kiss, as your hands moved to curl into his hair. His lust was a taste you could get drunk off if given the chance as his hands traveled the length of your body, moaning as you ground your hips against his, gripping into his clothes.

He leaned off of you momentarily to pull his shirt over his head as you slipped out of yours, you wrapped a leg around him, pushing him onto the couch instead and pinning him between your thighs as you straddled him, running your hands up his tattooed chest and connecting your lips again.

One of his large hands covered your breast as you began to grind your hips against his. His teeth grazed against your skin as he caressed your body while you moved against him, trying to create as much friction as you could against his jeans. He ran his fingers along the hem of your underwear, his lips curling into a smirk as he moved slightly to get a better look. "These are nice. Did you plan this?" He leered, snapping the elastic against your hip playfully. You rolled your eyes, pulling his chin towards you and pressing your lips against his. Every movement of his body seemed to lick at the fire deep within you.

You smirked breathlessly as his lips settled against your collarbones. “These are my church clothes. I had no other motive,” you jousted. His hand reached up to rest against your collarbone, his fingers lightly curling around your neck.

“Of course, how could I not realize,” he jabbed, pressing his lips and tongue against your neck. You moaned, tugging at his zipper before wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping him into harder arousal. He groaned against your neck, bucking into your hand lightly. His head tilted back against the couch beneath you, cheeks flushed at the attention. His teeth nipped at your skin as you ground yourself against his thigh, basking in his noises of pleasure.

His cock pulsed in your hand, making him grab your wrist and pull you beneath him. He gripped one of your legs, resting it in the crook of his elbow as he pushed himself into you, connecting your lips to swallow your moans. The feeling of him inside of you sent a wave of pleasure through your body. His voice was low in your ear, murmuring your name as if it were a curse. You moaned as he took one of your hands, lacing your fingers together beside your head as he kissed you again, tongue slipping into your mouth.

His thrusts became more rhythmless, his hold on you driving him deeper as the pool house filled with the noises of your whimpering moans. Karl’s breath was warm on your neck as he took advantage of your submissive state. He moved his hand from around your leg, wrapping his fingers around your neck again. Your body shivered, waiting for the pressure of his hand as his hips rocked against yours.

He chuckled darkly, teeth grazing against your shoulder before his lips hovered beside your ear. “Beg for it,” he commented, voice strained as he thrusted into you.

You swallowed, fingers digging into his back. “Choke me,” you groaned, “please.” His hand tightened around your neck, breath hitching in your throat as his thrusts became rougher. He bit back a smug grin at the way you reacted to his antics, relishing in your body beginning for more.

He relaxed his hand, pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to inhale. Heat ran through your body as your leg curled around his waist, nails raking down his back.

You leaned away from his lips, voice coming out unevenly as you moaned his name. His movements became sloppier as you groaned in bliss, tugging the flesh of his bottom lip between your teeth. You tipped your head back slightly as you reached your climax, riding out your pleasure and sending him over the edge as he pulled you closer to him, his hands digging into your hips as he encouraged you to continue grinding against him. You exhaled deeply, pressing your lips against his neck and his cheek before kissing him breathlessly as your movements slowed.

You pulled on your shirt, Karl’s hands moving to rest on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Should we leave a note for Ms. Scarlet?” You joked, making him chuckle as his arms wrapped further around your waist, cheek pressing against your shoulder.

“Who?” He teased.

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy @himbobimboeater @karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @teenage0jealousy @deepestofwaters @honk-izzie-was-taken @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @instabull @glowstick-cafe @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @anoaeunoia @little-gremlin-in-the-walls

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.

Ao3 | 2,051 words

--------------------------

"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah."

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.

A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[blueroseblaze]

If You’ll Have Me: Chapter 1

Read also on Ao3 here

The tinkering of metal harmonized with the soft music of the radio as you and Nero continued inspecting the van. Nico had long since gone home, saddling the two of you with the rest of the work. You didn’t mind though, any time you could spend with Nero was time well spent, even while doing menial labor.

“You okay?” Nero asked as he rolled out from underneath the massive vehicle, “You seem quiet.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you replied, “Just zoning out.”

Nero nodded, not pressing the issue any further. He stood from the roller seat and discarded the tools in his hand. He walked over to the sink in the corner, using the hem of his tank top to wipe away the sweat from his brow. You couldn’t keep yourself from catching a glimpse of his toned stomach as he did. But you quickly snapped yourself out of it.

Bad look, you thought, He’s with Kyrie.

“See something you like?” Nero teased from the other side of the garage, not even turning around to face you.

You clammed up and froze. Had you been so obvious? You continued staring at him, a guilty blush creeping up your face, exasperated by his turning his head and shooting you’re a snarky wink. You snapped your head away from his direction as he continued cleaning up.

You couldn’t escape the awkward silence, even the radio did little to ease your anxiety. Until an angel’s voice broke through the air.

“Nero! (Y/N)! Dinner’s almost ready!”

“We’ll be right there!” the young devil hunter called back. He turned to you from the sink, his expression as if the previous exchange never happened, yet there was a knowing glint in his crisp blue eyes.

“You staying?” he asked.

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, “If you’ll have me.”

“Always.”

You started to freshen up yourself hocking your tools onto the nearest surface and making way for the door. Nero stayed behind to finish tidying up and encouraged you to go on ahead. You stole one last look before making your way into the house.

The warm, welcoming aroma of Kyrie’s food wafted through the house, carrying you towards the kitchen. Your empty stomach growled the closer you got to the source. Turning the corner, you took a big breath in, exaggerating your reaction only a little to alert her to your presence.

“Hungry?” she asked in the songbird voice of hers.

“You know it,” you replied, “Nero will be in in a minute, he’s finishing up out there.”

“Well in that case you want to help me finish here and set the table?”

With little more than a nod you trotted over to the cabinet and pulled down the plates, cradling them in one arm as you searched the drawers for silverware. Hands full, you stepped into the dining room. You stole a look over your shoulder back towards the kitchen, listening to Kyrie humming a pleasant tune. You felt a smile stretch across your face, not realizing you had been stock still the whole time, not until a gentle had rested on your shoulder and Kyrie’s voice cut through your haze.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” she asked.

You nearly dropped everything in your arms as your heart skipped a beat. Your eyes met hers and you noted her concerned expression.

“I-I’m fine,” you said, “Just lost in thought.”

“You been doing that a lot lately.”

“Yeah there’s just been a lot on my mind. But I’m fine, promise!” you reassured her.

She looked rather incredulously at you before removing her hand from your shoulder. Her hand lingered on you for a moment, her fingers feather light as she reluctantly pulled away. You took in a deep breath and resumed setting the table, cursing yourself for getting so distracted.

You sighed defeatedly. There’s no point in letting yourself get hurt like this. They are happy together; they’ve been happy together. There’s no room for you. They only have you around because you’re a close friend, nothing more.

You felt tears prick at your eyes as you set the last plate down. You’d been getting careless. The wanton glances and lingering stares would get you in trouble soon enough, no matter how nonchalant they seems when you got caught. You suspected they suspected you. And you couldn’t help the anger at yourself that rose in your chest. Luckily, your back was till turned to Kyrie, and you quickly pranced to the bathroom once the last piece of table wear was set. You locked the door and supported yourself against the counter, staring at the flushed mess that was your face.

Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Hanging around, savoring every passing glance or soft touch, no matter the context. You had to be some kind of desperate masochist. This couldn’t go on; you would only be hurting yourself and being a burden on them. This should be the last time you let yourself feel like this. Do everyone a favor and cut yourself out. Make this last time enjoyable, then dial it back.

You gasped at the knock on the other side of the door. You quickly composed yourself and let out a sound of acknowledgment.

“You okay in there,” Nero’s voice was muffled on the other side.

“Yeah I’m fine, just finishing washing up,” you lied.

“Ok don’t rush yourself we won’t eat without you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me help yourselves.”

There was silence after that indicating he had left. Thank god, you thought, another confrontation dodged. You worked quickly, running the cool water from the faucet, and pressing damp towel to your face to relieve the redness in your eyes. This wasn’t the first time you had been driven to tears by your near addiction to your friends, but it was the first time you were so close to getting caught. There’s no good explanation if they had caught a glimpse of your distraught face. No allergies, no bullshit reminder of some stupid thing that made you sad. If you had gotten caught there was no way you would be able to talk yourself out of it. At least not without revealing to them that you were obviously lying to their faces.

Besides, how are you supposed to explain this to your friends, your friends that you have known since childhood, your friends that you followed to the mainland from the tiny island you all grew up on, your friends that have been together for years. How are you supposed to explain to them that you’ve been in love with both of them for so long? You can’t.

Which is why this has to end. You can’t keep letting yourself hurt like this. Why can’t you just let yourself stop hurting?

After a few more minutes you were presentable, a slightly bluish still permeating your face but nothing to give away the tears that flowed down your cheeks just moments before. You looked into the mirror and sighed before opening the bathroom door.

You walked into the dining room, surprised that dinner hadn’t been touched yet despite both Nero and Kyrie sitting there, plates empty.

“Did you wait for me?” you asked.

“Of course, we did,” Kyrie exclaimed with a smile.

“Why wouldn’t we wait for you?” Nero asked, slouched in his chair with his arm hanging off the back.

You gave them a smile that expressed both gratitude and annoyance, “But I said not to I don’t want it to get cold while you wait for me.”

Nero chastised you playfully before demanding you sit down.

Dinner was great, like it always was. Kyrie’s cooking could not be beat. It was a banquette of roast beef, potatoes, and mixed vegetables, enough to feed a small army. Or a hungry Nero. You also knew she made enough for you to take plenty home with you when you left. So thoughtful of her.

“And then I punched that ugly bastard right off the side of the bridge and timed how long it took until we heard it splash,” Nero chuckled, “Those army guys were certainly impressed.”

“You’re still not used to all the praise are you?” Kyrie inquired.

The evening was filled with chatter, laughter --mostly at Nero’s expense—and just general pleasantries. You swear you could listen to either of them talk about anything for hours and enjoy every minute of it. Nero’s improvements in his weaponry and his increased proficiency with his Devil Trigger form. Or Kyrie’s new craft project she’s begging you to try with her, because she thinks you’d be great at it. You hung on every word. You wanted to savor this, because you knew this would be the last time you could indulge in such a way. This had to be it, to save both yourself and your relationship with them. Sure, they would ask questions about your increased absence and why you suddenly started turning down their invitations, but it would be healthier in the long run.

Even after everyone was full, you all still sat around the table as the food got cold just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. Kyrie even brought out a bottle of wine. Despite none of you really drinking that often the evening was filled with an air of “why not?”. Both you and Nero sneered jokingly into your glasses, wine was always more Kyrie’s  anyway, but you sucked it up and indulged in the bitter juice.

The bottle was half empty by the time it was agreed to bring the evening to a pause. You didn’t need to be tipsy on your way home, you reasoned. But you did stay to help clean up the dishes and put way leftovers. Kyrie tried to help but You and Nero refused, she cooked, so you cleaned. That’s how these things worked.

Now here you were standing shoulder to shoulder with the snowy haired devil hunter. You washing, him drying. You glanced over, noticing him taking an excruciatingly long time drying off each dish or pot you handed him. He didn’t look at you and seemed lost in thought like he was contemplating something, but you chose not to ask.

That ache in your chest was starting to grow again, starting with the swell of admiration and want for his closeness but only to be poisoned by your conscious screaming at you. Asking who you thought you were to catch feelings for two people already so committed to each other. An emotional vampire, a parasite feeding off the happiness of your friends’ relationship. What kind of homewrecker were you to even think about feeling this way?

You bit your lip, trying not to feel the burn behind your eyes as you gradually reached your limit again. You focused on your task, hoping that focusing on your hands only will distract you. You didn’t notice Nero look over his shoulder, or Kyrie approach you from behind. Despite your focus on your hands, you felt the atmosphere change. You slowly lowered the soapy dish into the water and turned your head to meet the gaze of your friends.

Kyrie stood a few feet from you and Nero. You could see the nervous look on her face as she played with her fingers, barley keeping eye contact with you. She shifted her eyes between you and Nero as Nero leaned against the counter, crossing his arms securely over his chest.

You heart rate spiked, panic running through your body.

Oh god, you thought, this is it. They found you out. They know how you feel and now they’re going to kick you out. Who could blame them? Who would want to keep a desperate lonely leech like you around? They were just being nice to you so they wouldn’t hurt your feelings but now they’ve had enough. Now they’re done with you. They’re going to tell you to leave and never come back.

The voice in your head continued to berate you with scenario after scenario of them letting you down easy, screaming at you, throwing you out onto the street. This didn’t help you with trying to keep a new reservoir of tears from brewing behind your eyes that they will notice any minute now. Keep it together…

“(Y/N),” Kyrie started in her beautiful melodic voice, “Nero and I want to talk to you about something.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, “What is it? Is everything ok?” you asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Nero started, “We just have sort of a… proposal, for you.”

“Okay…?” You crossed your own arms over yourself protectively.

Nero moved so that he and Kyrie were both facing you and you would much rather be facing down a firing squad at this point.

Kyrie started again, “We’ve all known each other for a very long time, and you’re our best friend. You’re so smart and funny and kind. We don’t know what we would do without you around. We love spending time with you, and we always hate to see you leave.”

She’s just buttering you up to make this less painful… Or maybe? Maybe she’s softening you up to make it hurt that much more to get you to stay away.

It was at this point that Nero spoke up, “We can always talk to you about anything we’re dealing with and you’re always there for us. You never judged me when you found out about me being part demon. You were there when I lost my arm and when I found out about my father.”

“When we lost Credo,” Kyrie added sullenly, “You’re basically family to us we’re so close, and we love you. I know we say it a lot but I don’t think it shows how we really feel.”

You remained silent, taking in their words that warmed your heart but still left you anxious. Where was this going, really? It was true though, you were always there for them when they needed help, because that’s what friends do. You know they would always do the exact same for you. Like when Kyrie brings you hot soup and beverages when you’re sick, or when Nero patches you up if you get too close to a demon. That’s just what friends do for each other.

“When we say we love you,” Nero said, “We mean it. And not in like a family way… we…”

Kyrie took over, “We wanted to ask you, if you would like to join us.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell agape just slightly. This couldn’t be real. They can’t be asking what you think they’re asking. They probably just joined a new mainland church or they need an extra person to take care of the kids at the orphanage. There’s no way that they…

“Join you?” you repeated.

“We want you to be a part of our relationship, so it would be the three of us instead of just me and Kyrie.”

You dropped your gaze, looking down and shaking your head in disbelief. They were really asking. You couldn’t believe it, this had to be a dream. One you would wake up from any moment alone in your own bed at home.

“If you’re not interested we get it,” Nero said seeing your look of disbelief. Hopefully, he didn’t think it was offense. “We don’t want to force you into anything we just need to get our feelings out there.”

“Kyrie you…” you began struggling to express your thoughts, “I didn’t know that you were…”

“It’s never something I ever really explored but I always felt deep down, especially fpr you. Nero and I did a lot of talking and we found out we both feel the same way for you that we do for each other. There’s just something there that we couldn’t ignore any longer. So, if you want to give it a try, we would want nothing more.”

“Whoa, (Y/N) are you okay!” Nero exclaimed.

It was then you noticed that your dam had burst and the tears were freely falling down your cheeks. You stood there shaking with quiet sobs as you lowered your head and brought your hands to your face to cover your reddened eyes. You panted and hiccupped behind your hands until you felt another pair, warm and gentle wrap around your wrists, gingerly coaxing you to reveal your face. You sniffled as you met Kyrie’s worried amber eyes.

“We’re so sorry. We won’t bring it up again, I promise. Please don’t cry,” she begged.

“It’s n-not…t-that,” you sputtered, “I pro-omise…”

They were both silent as Kyrie still held your shaky hands in her own while Nero stepped aside to grab something to dry your tears with. Kyrie quietly shushed you encouraging you to calm down so you could speak clearly. You began to focus on your breathing, slow quivering breaths in and out in a broken rhythm.

You couldn’t believe it. After so long. So many years of wanting and pushing your feelings down for their sake. So many years of loneliness holding out for this exact moment, no matter how impossible it previously seemed. So long just wanting to be held by them, touched, kissed, and loved by them the way they do each other. This was really happening.  

Soon Nero returned with a bundle of tissues, handing them to you without a word but a very concerned face. It was still a few more minutes to calm yourself before you could speak.

“You…” you started dabbing your eyes as you went, “You have no idea how long… how long I’ve felt the same way. I just didn’t want to say anything because… because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I… I didn’t want to just wedge myself in and risk ruining everything… so I k-kept quiet about how I felt.”

You sighed deeply as you calmed down more and more.

“I always had a feeling. I didn’t ask because… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off. So, I just always teased you about being in love with me,” he chuckled, “I was too scared to come out with it myself. So, I just hoped you would do it for me.”

Kyrie, still standing very close to you, reached out her hand, softly rubbing your shoulder to help calm you faster. She smiled sweetly at you, that same smile you had see so many times and locked away in your inner vault to cherish when she wasn’t around, like the selfish little love gremlin you were.

“So,” she began, “What do you think? You don’t have to answer right away if you don’t want to.”

You smiled at her, eyes still red and puffy but so much happier than you were before. You took Kyrie’s hands into yours Interlocking your fingers with her, sighing with the warmth of her skin.

“I want to, I really do. So yes… if you’ll have me.”

Both of them smiled at you, Kyrie bouncing with excitement as you wiped away the last of your tears. Nero came forward, wrapping his strong arms around both of you. You buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling his comforting scent before pulling away from him, hand still locked in Kyrie’s. You looked to her, and saw the rosy blush spreading over her freckled cheeks.

She looked away from you bashfully before asking, “(Y/N), may I kiss you?”

You blinked wide eyed at her and felt your own cheeks heat up again, this time not from crying. You meekly nodded and stood still as she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours. They were the softest thing you had ever felt like rose petals that had been sitting on a sunny windowsill in summer. Lips slightly parted so they would fit perfectly with hers you felt the heat radiating off her skin. In the end it was chaste, she pulled away with a quiet smack of your parting. You had little experience with kissing but this one sent sparks through your whole body you had never felt before.

You were both silent after the fact, sparing each other bashful glances until Nero stepped forward, scratching at his nose in embarrassment like he’s one to do. He was uncharacteristically quiet but very characteristically shy as he placed a light hand on your shoulder. He leaned in slowly, silently asking for permission to join in. You granted it without a word, only closing the distance between you.

His lips weren’t as full or soft as Kyrie’s, but they were still softer than you had expected. You took a breath through your nose as your lips began to work against his. It felt so right, still riding the high after kissing Kyrie now Nero, your head was spinning in all directions.

Nero was the one to pull away first, and for a brief moment you followed him, wanting more. But you stopped, you couldn’t be so greedy. Your skin tingled as Nero let his hand fall form it, his calloused fingertips lingering on your skin as he went. You could feel the goosebumps rising in the exact patterns as his touch.

“It’s getting late,” Nero said, his voice huskier than it was before, “We don’t have to do anything more tonight.”

“You’re right,” you said, your arm returning to their position securely across your chest, “I-I think that we should talk about this more later.”

“Do you want to spend the night?” Kyrie asked, “You still have some things here.”

It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend the night at their place when the night got away from you and it was too late and too much of a hassle to walk home. So naturally after some time you had accumulated a small wardrobe that you just left here for such an occasion. And sweetest Kyrie, had them all clean folded in a canvas box neatly tucked away in the linen closet.

“Thank you I would but, I think maybe it would be best if I went home for tonight, process everything.”

There’s no way you would be able to sleep tonight if you were here, especially after all of this. Your mind was still racing with adrenaline, excitement, and anxiety. Those kisses gave you enough dopamine to last you a long while, you’ll still be feeling their lips on yours when you’re trying to sleep tonight.

“I understand,” Kyrie said with a content smile, “But please come over for breakfast tomorrow so we can talk things over more.”

“I will that sounds great,” you agreed, “It is getting late if I leave now it shouldn’t take me too long.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Nero offered. Ever the gentleman as he led you to the door, you both sparing a quick goodnight to Kyrie.

[silverlightqueen]

Monsters

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

ot8magicalcreature!skz x readers from all 8 fics - comedy, fluff, angst, basically just tying up the loose ends from all the fics with the setting of Jackson’s famed party lol

Word Count: 16.2k+ (she’s a monster lmao)

Summary - Jackson’s (in)famous Halloween party is finally here, after months of being hyped up, anticipated, and labelled ‘the Party of the Year’. He’s invited everyone who’s anyone - the guestlist is exclusive to say the least. Werewolves and vampires, wizards and witches, angels and demons (and demon hunters), living creatures and dead; magical folk of all kind are on their way to Jackson’s party on All Hallows Eve. Oh, and a few humans too.

Warnings: explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and mention of drugs, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: and here is the ninth and final instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I know it’s not actually Halloween anymore lmao but uh better late than never ig? I’ve had so much fun writing this series, and this part was actually my favourite to write, even though it’s taken me soooo long. I really hope you guys enjoy reading this (make sure you’ve read the previous parts first, or reach out to me to ask for a summary for any parts you haven’t read - this part won’t make sense if you haven’t read all of the others too!). a big thank you to @silverlightprincess for being the best, and to everyone that’s interacted with all of the previous parts, I really appreciate it. and now, this is silverlightqueen signing off on my SKZ Scarefest! x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess 

@peculiarskidz @cararoserae @t-tbinnie​ @liatlyn​ you guys didn’t ask to be tagged but you’ve shown interest in this part I think so I thought I’d tag you guys anyway lmao sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged lol

silverlightqueen navigation

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, angels and demons, and everything in between! Before we get into this, I wanna lay out a couple ground rules. Wolves and vamps, if you can’t get along, stay away from each other. Wizards, witches and fairies, keep your magic away from the drinks. My bedroom is off limits, unless I take you up there myself. Everyone’s an equal here, so I don’t care if you’re a king of hell or some shit – in Jackson’s house, you’re the same as everyone else, so you better treat each other like it. And have fun, motherfuckers! Let’s get this party started!’

Jackson finishes his very eloquent speech with a loud ‘whoop’ into the DJ’s microphone, voice echoing out into the massive living room of the manor house, and everyone cheers in response. I can’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes amusedly as my friends, dressed in our matching Pink Ladies’ outfits, scream and shout, bumping their cups together enthusiastically. ‘Come on, y/n! Cheer up!’ Yeji practically bellows into my ear, and I wince at the volume of her voice over the music blasting out from the speakers. ‘I’m fine!’ I reply, the girls all raising their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re not even drinking. If you’re gonna be heartbroken, at least be drunk heartbroken!’ Chaeryeong says, the girls cheering at her words, and I laugh at them, trying not to think about the reason that I’m heartbroken. ‘Listen, y/n, Hyunjin ain’t shit! You’re better off without him! He’s fucking ancient, anyway! You need a young sexy thing instead! Fuck him!’ Ryujin exclaims, and I grin at her words. She’s right; he’s probably off feeding on some girl dressed as a sexy nurse or devil in a club, and I’m here moping at the party of the year. Fuck that.

‘Someone get me a drink!’ I say, the girls cheering loudly. ‘Yuna, get her a drink! Wait, no, you stay away from the drinks. I’ll get her a drink,’ Lia says, all of us laughing as she stumbles towards the kitchen, already a little tipsy. ‘I hate seeing you like this! You’re supposed to be my dancing partner,’ Yuna says, sitting down next to me, and I give her a sad smile. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t get him off my mind. I feel like such an idiot,’ I say, and she shakes her head, scrunching up her nose. ‘Don’t be silly, you’re not an idiot. He’s the idiot for leaving – you’re the best thing that would’ve ever happened to him,’ she says kindly, my heart swelling. ‘You’re so sweet, Yuna,’ I say, throwing my arms around her, but I don’t hear her reply, my focus shifting to the front door where I see Chan walk in, immediately catching Yeji’s eyes, and the two of them wave at each other across the room. Seungmin and Jisung follow Chan in, and I guess Hyunjin’s gonna be there too, with the rest of them. ‘Fuck. I need to go,’ I say, not wanting to see him just yet (I’m far too sober), so I detach myself from Yuna and jump up from the sofa, quickly dodging my way around people to get into the kitchen. ‘y/n!’ Lia exclaims when I pass her, ‘I’ve got your drink here!’

‘I’ll have it if she won’t!’ Jisung calls out to the girl in the Grease Pink Ladies jacket stood beside us, watching her friend rush into the kitchen. ‘Oh, uh… yeah. Here,’ the girl says, handing the cup to Jisung who thanks her with a wink, and she rolls her eyes amusedly, heading back to her friends. ‘You flirt,’ Ryujin laughs, Jisung smirking at her as he takes a sip from the drink. ‘More like slut. Whoring himself out for a drink,’ Hyunjin teases the boy, who shoves him, the two of them getting into a little fight, and Chan just sighs, looking away from the two of them with a hand raised beside his face, as though to block them from his sight.

It’s been just over a week since the boys first stumbled into the diner, and this is already the fifth time I’ve seen them. They came into the diner again a couple days later, and then again, and then another time, when Chan asked if we’d go to Jackson’s party with them. It’s a full moon tonight, so they’re gonna be disappearing in a couple hours, and then making a reappearance a bit later than that. That was their excuse for not wearing costumes, but I’m not sure I’m buying it. We decided to dress up as Harry Potter characters, us girls in the Hogwarts robes, and we already got some cute pictures at Ryujin and Yeji’s apartment before the boys came to pick us up. The girls have already started developing relationships with the boys too, and I can see us becoming one big friendship group.

With regards to Chan and I, though… things haven’t progressed in the slightest. I texted him, and we’ve been messaging, but he hasn’t made a move or anything! He’s the perfect gentleman, which is great, but also sucks, because I just want him to be forward and tell me if he’s into me. But I’ve decided not to say anything, just in case he isn’t actually into me, and I’ve misconstrued everything.

‘Oh, God, the vamps are here,’ Minho murmurs, all of the boys grumbling as they watch the vampires walk in and join the Pink Ladies girl and her Pink Ladies friends. ‘Ugh, look at them, all of them in all black. They look like they’re going to a funeral or something,’ Changbin spits out, and I exchange a glance with Chan, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t even look in their direction, guys. I don’t want anything to start, especially on a full moon. So stop looking,’ Chan says calmly, and the boys all look away, muttering under their breaths. ‘If I catch any of them giving me a funny look, I’m not holding back,’ Jisung threatens, Chan sighing wearily as I hold back a laugh. ‘Honestly. Not one peaceful party with you idiots,’ Seungmin complains, and Jisung lets out a scandalised noise. ‘Idiots? Who are you calli-’ ‘You. He’s calling you an idiot, Jisung,’ Jeongin clarifies, Jisung turning his scowl to the youngest now. ‘Are you siding with the vamps?’ he demands, everyone sighing. ‘No one’s siding with anyone. Nothing’s even happened. Can you relax?’ I say amusedly, and Jisung looks at me with a frown.

‘I hope you’re not trying to boss me around, y/n. You’re forgetting that you’re human,’ Jisung says warningly, and I roll my eyes at his empty threat. ‘And you’re forgetting something too,’ Felix says in a sing-song voice, looking amused, and Jisung’s eyes suddenly widen, flitting to Chan. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Chan, the latter looking at the former serenely, and Jisung seems to relax under Chan’s chilled gaze. ‘What?’ Chaeryeong says suddenly, everyone’s eyes turning to her. ‘What?’ Hyunjin asks, and she rolls her eyes. ‘What did Jisung forget?’ she asks, and I won’t lie – I’d quite like to know the answer to that too. They keep doing this – one of them will say something cryptic and they’ll all look at each other and then go silent. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ Hyunjin says, us girls exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘Fine. Whatever,’ Chaeryeong sighs, the group falling silent at that. ‘Anyway… I’m gonna get a drink. Does anyone want anything?’ Minho asks, getting up from where he’s perched on the sideboard, and I raise a hand. ‘Can you get me a cup of Echo Falls please?’

‘God, these humans drink some weak shit. Echo Falls is practically flavoured water,’ I say to Felix, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Stop eavesdropping on their conversations.’ ‘I can’t help it. You know I’ve got good hearing,’ I say, and Felix just gives me an amused smile. ‘You should be focusing on me.’ ‘You’re being boring, though. You won’t dance with me,’ I complain, pouting as I flick his plastic red devil horns, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘I’ve already told you why. If we dance together, you won’t keep your hands to yourself, and one of the other angels will see us and go snitching to God. I want you to speak to her before anyone else does,’ Felix explains for, like, the tenth time, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘I will speak to her. But is it that big of a deal if she hears about it from someone else beforehand? No. I just wanna dance with my boyfriend without worrying about anything,’ I whine, and his lips curl into a smile, eyes sparkling.

‘Did you just call me your boyfriend?’ he asks, and I realise that, yes, I did, and my face heats up a little. ‘No.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘I didn’t.’ ‘I think you did.’ ‘I think you’re hearing things.’ ‘Hmm, I’m not so sure about that,’ he teases me, and I roll my eyes, trying not to show him how embarrassed I am. ‘Whatever. Maybe I did. Am I wrong?’ I ask, and he grins at me, pulling me down from the arm of his armchair into his lap, and I’m surprised at the sudden display of affection. ‘Of course you aren’t. My girlfriend is never wrong,’ he murmurs with a grin, tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss to my lips, and I practically melt into him.

I break away a moment later, grabbing his hand and climbing up from the seat, pulling him up with me. ‘If you can kiss me, you can dance with me,’ I grin, dragging him towards where people are in a big throng, dancing along to the loud music pulsing out into the room. I wrap my arms around his neck, his arms coming around my waist, and we instantly begin dancing, bodies pressed close as we roll and wind against each other, the smiles never leaving our faces. Dancing with him like this is so… mundane, so human. To anyone else watching, we’re a boy and a girl dancing together, and that’s all. It feels like the most simple happiness, one I haven’t experienced for a long time. And one that gets cut short very quickly.

I blink, and suddenly Felix is no longer in my arms, and I’m no longer at Jackson’s party either, the air around me a startling silence. Instead, I’m stood in an office, God sat at the desk opposite me. She’s leaning back in her seat, her eyes on me, inspecting me, almost picking me apart, and I feel a little bit of panic flare inside me. I’m not prepared for this now – I’m halfway to being drunk on tequila shots.

‘Are you dressed as an angel?’ she asks amusedly, and I nod, feeling sheepish now in my little white dress, wings pinned onto the back of it, and my wire halo headband. ‘Quite ironic. Such a crude depiction, these humans have of my angels. Though… I do like your dress,’ she says softly, and I’m flattered. If God likes my dress, it must be good, right? Or maybe it’s not. I mean… I thought this was sexy and revealing, but if God likes it, it’s probably not as sexy or revealing as I thought. Shame.

‘Did someone snitch?’ I ask bluntly, and she lets out a gentle laugh, the sound melodious and light. ‘Yes. Somebody… snitched.’ ‘Who?’ ‘I’m snitching if I tell you,’ she says with a small smile, and I roll my eyes. ‘Can’t you just tell me?’ ‘It was Seungmin.’ ‘That little shit,’ I mutter, sighing in annoyance. ‘Felix didn’t make me aware of your relationship.’ ‘I know. I told him I’d speak to you about it.’ ‘You speak to me? Why not him? He’s here every day. You… are not,’ she says pointedly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ‘I know, but he was nervous, so I said I’d handle it.’ ‘And how will you handle it?’ she asks amusedly, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. ‘By asking for your permission.’

She looks quite taken aback at my answer, raising an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Asking my permission?’ ‘Yeah. We assumed you wouldn’t be too impressed if one of your angels pursues a relationship with a demon.’ ‘I wouldn’t be impressed if the circumstances were any different. But, as I’ve observed recently, you seem to be particularly harmless with Felix around. He keeps you under control. I suppose it’d be in my best interests to encourage him to be around you, to keep you on a better track than Lucifer would have you on,’ she shudders, saying his name with disdain, and I bite my tongue rather than defend my father. I doubt she’d take well to it.

‘So you don’t mind?’ ‘No. I don’t. He’s good for you. And I’m quite impressed that you unconsciously won his affections. I never expected such a lovely angel to fall for a demon,’ she says, and I feel my lips quirk up into a small grin. ‘He’s a dark horse.’ ‘Apparently so.’ ‘Does this mean you’re not gonna kill me?’ ‘Yes, y/n, I’m not going to kill you. I’m nothing if not benevolent. So you may return to your party. Just bear in mind,’ she adds, as though it’s an afterthought, ‘I have a particular fondness for Felix, so see to it that you don’t break his heart.’ ‘I can’t make any promises,’ I say honestly, and she just looks at me for a moment, deep in thought, before a small smile breaks across her face. ‘I can’t fault you for such a truthful answer. Now go,’ she says with a kind smile, her warmth seeping into even my cold heart, ‘make him happy.’

The next time I blink, I open my eyes to Jackson’s party once more, the earsplittingly loud music making me wince as I scan the room for my boyfriend. ‘y/n!’ I hear him call from behind me, and I turn to briefly see his panicked face before he pulls me into his arms. ‘You disappeared! I was worried sick,’ he says into my ear, holding me in a vice-like grip, and I let out a laugh, pushing him away gently. ‘I’m fine,’ I murmur, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. ‘Where were you?’ he asks with his big eyes, and I grin, before replying, ‘With God.’

‘Goodness. Whatever were you doing with that bore?’ I ask Lucifer’s daughter, my equivalent of the ninth circle, and a smile of joy spreads across her face at the sight of me. We hold each other in a brief embrace, her boyfriend stood to the side, watching with curiosity. ‘What are you doing here? It’s been forever since I saw you at a party,’ she says, her language so much more modern than mine. I suppose I hung onto my outdated vocabulary, just as I hung onto my love. ‘I have much to celebrate. My love is returned. Changbin is himself once more,’ I inform her, her face lighting up at the news. ‘No way! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you! Is he here?’ she asks excitedly, and I nod. ‘He is getting a drink for me – I am quite parched. Be sure to greet him at some point before you depart. He has missed you all – he was more excitable than I have ever seen him as we were readying ourselves for this party. He could not wait to come and see you all once more,’ I explain, hearing the fondness in my own voice. ‘I will, of course. It’ll be nice to see him.’

‘Yes. It shall. And who, may I ask, is your companion?’ ‘This is Felix. He’s an angel, which is why I was with God,’ she explains, my mouth falling open. ‘You, Lucifer’s daughter, with an angel? Goodness me, this is surprising news. I expected you to choose Minho as your companion. Certainly not a being so… soft. But if you are happy, I am happy for you. I just hope Felix does not do anything to hurt you, for he shall have many dark ones to answer to,’ I say threateningly to the sweet boy, his face falling as he gulps. ‘Of course not. I’d never hurt her,’ he says quietly, and I smile at him, taking to him almost instantly. He reminds me of a little lamb, or a gentle fairy. He is quite lovely. ‘I am glad to hear so. I am going to go and find Changbin, for he has been gone a while, but I hope to catch up with you at some point tonight,’ I say to the both of them, embracing them both and taking Felix quite by surprise when I do so (it is unusual for demons to be so kind to those they have just met, but I quite enjoy teasing other beings, and making them all flustered), a small smile on my face at his girlfriend’s soft giggles, before I turn away, making my way towards the kitchen and stifling a laugh when I hear Felix ask, ‘Who’s Minho?’

I enter the kitchen, Changbin stood on the opposite side of the room, pouring himself a scotch, a glass of red wine for me beside his tumbler glass. I glide over to him, sliding my arms around his waist when I reach him, and a smile stretches across his face when I press a kiss to his cheek. ‘I have missed you,’ he murmurs, turning to pull me into his arms, and I let out a soft laugh. ‘I left for a few minutes – you cannot have missed me that much,’ I reply, and he grins at me. ‘I don’t mean the last few minutes – I mean the last few centuries,’ he chuckles, and I feel my heart swell. He has told me he missed me so many times over the past few days and it has not yet become old to hear him say so. ‘I like hearing you say that.’ ‘I shall say it to you every day for the rest of our lives if you so wish,’ he proclaims, making me giggle (only he can make me behave as though I am a young teenage human girl with her first love).

I can feel eyes on us, and I manage to pick up whispers here and there, about how the famed original demon hunter is no longer a demon hunter, and is in the kitchen of a Halloween party thrown by a drunken fool. How Jackson has all these connections, I am not quite sure, though I suppose he is a sweet boy on occasion, when he is not intoxicated out of his sanity. ‘People are talking.’ ‘That is what they do.’ ‘I mean, they are talking about us.’ ‘They will always talk about us,’ he grins, cockiness seeping into his tone, and I roll my eyes. ‘More specifically, they are talking about you.’ ‘Well, they will always talk about me.’ ‘And why is that, my love?’ I ask with a grin, leaning against him with my arms around his neck, and he leans back against the counter, hands resting low on my back. ‘Would you like to guess, my love?’ ‘Your dashing good looks?’ ‘No.’ ‘Your unfairly perfect body?’ ‘Not quite.’ ‘Your… lovely personality?’ ‘Not even close,’ he says with a grin, childish giggles falling from my lips every few seconds. ‘Then what, my love?’ I ask, feeling drunk on love when he replies, ‘they wonder how somebody like me is with such a perfect lady like you.’

‘Wow. Did you hear that? That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,’ I murmur to Jisung, the boy rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his beer. ‘He’s had a long time to practice his lines,’ Jisung says dryly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So have you, being a thousands-of-years-old demon and all.’ ‘Nope. I was too busy fucking people. Anyway, stop listening to other people’s romantic conversations, and focus on your own romance,’ he says sternly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘Romance? He didn’t even pick me up. He said he’d ‘see me there’ which is, like, totally not a date,’ I say mildly, and Jisung shakes his head. ‘He’s trying not to be too eager.’ ‘He’s going a little too much the other way.’ ‘Well… he’ll regret it when he sees you. You look hot,’ he says offhandedly, though the way his eyes roam over me hungrily betray his cool demeanour. ‘I do, don’t I? It was a good costume suggestion you made,’ I say, looking down at my angel costume. It’s a little basic – quite a few other girls here are dressed as angels (I’m pretty sure I saw a princess of Hell dressed as one, which is quite funny actually) – but the white dress, feather wings and tinsel halo are quite cute, if I say so myself.

‘Yep, it was. Sex God Seonghwa’s gonna love it,’ he grins, and I shush him, looking around embarrassedly in case someone heard. ‘Relax, relax. Oh, look. Talk of the devil…’ he trails off, and I follow his eye line to the door of the kitchen, Seonghwa and his friends just walking in. They’re dressed in standard house party outfits with a little bit of makeup on their faces – a half-skeleton face here and a half-zombie face there. I’m not quite sure what Seonghwa’s supposed to be, with his bright white contacts and cuts across his eyes, but he looks hot. I catch his eye, and he smiles widely at me, the butterflies I usually feel when he looks at me absent today, but I shrug it off. ‘I’m gonna go say hi,’ I say, rising from my seat, and Jisung nods. ‘I’ll be with Hyunjin, if you need me. Not that you will, but… just in case,’ he says gently, and I nod with a smile before heading towards Seonghwa.

‘Hey, y/n. You look… nice,’ he says with a devilish grin, eyes flitting over me before he pulls me into a loose hug. ‘Thanks, Seonghwa. You look good, too. I like your… contacts,’ I say awkwardly, but he continues grinning at me as though he can’t feel the uncomfortable tension in the air. ‘Thanks. Not more than my real eyes, I hope,’ he jokes, and I let out a forced laugh. ‘No, of course not. You’re real eyes are, uh, much nicer.’ ‘Thanks. Can I get you a drink?’ he offers, and I hold up the cup in my hand awkwardly. ‘Oh, never mind. I’ll just grab myself a beer,’ he laughs, turning to get one out of the fridge, and I want to scream at myself. Why am I being so awkward with him? Come on, y/n, step up your game.

‘So what exactly are you supposed to be?’ I ask, trying to sound more comfortable than I feel, and he grins as he flips the top off the bottle with a bottle opener. ‘Can’t you tell? I’m a… possessed… devil… thing?’ he says, and I laugh, the boy laughing with me. ‘You don’t sound so sure.’ ‘Yeah, it’s a little ambiguous. Wooyoung did it and I’m not sure what he was going for, but I’ll roll with it,’ he chuckles before motioning to me. ‘Your outfit’s pretty obvious, though. A perfect little angel, right?’ he smirks, and I let out a fake laugh. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I think the halo and the wings give it away a little. The dress isn’t too angelic, though. A little… tight. Not that I’m complaining,’ he grins, and I feel my heart sinking. He’s attracted to me, he’s flirting with me, and yet… I don’t feel a single thing. What is wrong with me?

‘Well… I’m glad you like it. It’s a little… out there for me,’ I admit, hoping that derailing the conversation to something a little more tame will make things less awkward. ‘It really suits you. I think you should wear things like this all the time, if you want to. Be more confident in your body,’ he says encouragingly, and I feel so sad. Look how nice he’s being, and I still somehow feel like I’d much rather be talking to anyone else at this party. ‘I’ll try. I’m not sure my tutors would be too impressed if I showed up to my lectures and seminars in teeny little bodycon dresses,’ I joke, and he chuckles, grinning. ‘Maybe not,’ he murmurs with a smirk, ‘but I’m sure… other people would appreciate it.’

‘God, that’s the most awkward conversation I’ve ever listened to in my life,’ I say dryly to Ryujin as we leave the kitchen. ‘I know! The girl was obviously not interested, but he was not getting the message,’ she says, both of us wincing at the thought of how uncomfortable that was. ‘Boys are so dense,’ I complain as I throw myself down onto the sofa beside Lia, Ryujin perching on the arm of the sofa beside where Yuna sits. ‘Listen to you. She’s got a demon boyfriend now and, suddenly, she’s above human boys,’ Chaeryeong teases, and I raise my eyebrow, the other girls laughing. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. I’ve met him once.’ ‘And that was enough for him to fall in love with you,’ Lia says simply, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s not in love!’ ‘He’s willing to come to a human party for you – it’s close enough to love,’ Yeji says dryly, and I shake my head with an amused smile. ‘This is not a human party at all. We’re like the only humans here, pretty much.’ ‘Us and that girl being practically tortured by that boy in the kitchen,’ Ryujin says with a wince, and I laugh. ‘Poor thing. We should’ve saved her. Pretended we know her or something.’ ‘Na, he was pretty hot. Maybe she’s just looking to get laid,’ Ryujin says with a shrug, and I consider it, nodding after a moment.

‘Who’s looking to get laid?’ a familiar voice says, and I look up to see Minho stood there, my heart stopping momentarily. He looks so handsome, in a pair of tight black trousers and a black shirt with white stripes on it, an expensive-looking black jacket thrown over the top of it, a smart casual outfit perfect for a date. I tried my best to wear something that doubles as a date outfit and a Halloween costume, but all I could come up with is a little black dress and a cat ear headband with a matching tail on my ass which I’ll take off when we leave here. At least I look sexy in it.

He holds out a hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me up from my seat, and he keeps my hand in his, holding it up and pressing his soft lips against my skin. ‘You sound different,’ Ryujin observes dryly, eyebrow raised, and he grins at her. ‘I decided to drop the formalities. No one wants to date a guy who sounds like he’s just stepped out of the Victorian era. Unless you’re into that?’ he asks with a grin, coaxing a laugh from me, and I’m relieved to hear him speaking like this instead of that stiff formal language. It makes him much less… intimidating.

‘I brought my friends,’ he says, and my eyes focus on the group stood a few feet behind him, all of them dressed similarly to Minho. They’re all taking turns to hug one blond boy who I saw earlier with his gorgeous girlfriend, the girl now stood beside the group, watching them with a loving smile on her face. ‘I’ll introduce them in a minute. Our friend was turned into a demon hunter centuries ago, and we’ve just now found out he’s back to being a demon again. It’s a long story – I’ll explain over dinner,’ he says, and I’m a little confused but I brush it off, just nodding.

‘Dinner?’ a voice says from behind Minho, the boy turning to reveal the blond boy’s girlfriend. She’s dressed in an elegant white evening dress, decked out in jewels and finery, a white veil in her hair and horribly gory cuts and wounds all over her face and chest. ‘Yes, dinner.’ ‘Ah, so this is the date you mentioned?’ she says, her eyes flitting to me, and I feel a little intimidated under her powerful gaze. ‘Hi. I’m y/n,’ I say shyly, and she looks impressed, holding out a hand to me, and I shake it firmly. ‘Nice to meet you, y/n. I am the Princess of the 5th Circle of Hell,’ she says with a smile, and I blink in surprise. ‘Charmed,’ I reply faintly, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Does she not know of our nature, Minho?’ ‘She does. I suppose it takes a little getting used to,’ he says ruefully, and I nod embarrassedly.

‘You are dressed as a cat,’ she observes, and I nod, even more embarrassed. She looks all graceful as a zombie bride (I think?), and I’m in a cheap ass black dress and a flimsy plastic headband. ‘Minho has a liking for cats,’ she says amusedly, Minho choking on thin air, and I try to ignore the girls’ stifled laughter behind me as I say, ‘I… didn’t know that.’ ‘I guessed as much. What exactly are you supposed to be, Minho?’ ‘A normal boy taking a girl to dinner?’ he says with a small grin, and the girl rolls her eyes. ‘How boring.’

‘We don’t all have your creativity, Miss Zombie Bride,’ he teases sarcastically, and she lets out a little outraged gasp. ‘How dare you? Are you accusing me of being unoriginal? You should see Lucifer’s Princess – she’s dressed as an angel, and she’s here with her angel boyfriend,’ the girl says, sounding a little gossipy, and Minho’s mouth falls open. ‘Angel boyfriend?’ he asks, the girl nodding with a grin, satisfied at Minho’s reaction. ‘Do not ask her for details – she will gossip with you all night, and you shall be late to dinner with your human love,’ the blond-haired boy says amusedly, Minho nodding before his eyes flit back to me, a grin spreading on his handsome face.

He holds an arm out to me, and I link mine with his shyly, feeling more than intimidated with all these demons around. ‘We should get going. I’m parked outside,’ he says, and I feel excited – I’m really looking forward to this, regardless of the fact that my date is a demon prince. ‘Why did you bring a car?’ the demon princess says amusedly, and I look between her and Minho with confusion. ‘How else would we get there?’ ‘We can travel without… vehicles. What is it you humans call it… ah, teleporting, I believe,’ she says, and my eyes widen. ‘Can we do that?’ I ask Minho excitedly, and he shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. ‘You’ve never done it before, and it takes a lot of getting used to. I don’t want you to get hurt,’ he says, the last bit a little quieter, and his demon friends behind him fail at holding back their laughter, making him look more than a bit sheepish. ‘Do not tease him. He is obviously taken with her, and it is high time he settled down,’ the demon princess says, though she looks like she’s holding back laughter too, and Minho just shakes his head.

‘We’re going. See you in a few hours,’ he says embarrassedly, leading me towards the door, and I wave goodbye to the girls and Minho’s friends over my shoulder, all of them watching us leave with big smiles on their faces. We dodge around the groups of partygoers, dressed up all sorts of supernatural creatures and famous characters, and it feels like we’ve entered another world when we step out through the front door, the air clear, crisp and quiet. ‘Are you cold?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyebrow raising. ‘Okay, maybe I am.’ ‘I’d be shocked if you weren’t in that dress,’ he says amusedly, taking his jacket off and helping me to put it on, giving me butterflies. It smells like expensive aftershave and something… dark and smoky, like night itself. ‘Come on, angel, let’s get going,’ he grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me towards where several cars are parked on the driveway of the manor. ‘Where are we going?’ I ask, and his grins grows even wider. ‘Wherever you want to go, angel,’ he says softly, holding me close to him, ‘I’ll go anywhere with you.’

‘Oh, my God. That was so romantic,’ I squeal under my breath as we pass the couple who are leaving, the boy holding the passenger door of his car open for the girl, and I.N. – no, Jeongin – rolls his eyes. ‘It was cheesy,’ he says, ever the cynic, and I shoot him a look. ‘Whatever, grumpy,’ I mutter, and he lets out a little laugh. ‘I’m not grumpy.’ ‘You are! You complained the entire way here!’ ‘Yeah, because I don’t want to be here. I don’t like leaving the house.’ ‘But I’ve got a s-’ ‘Surprise, yes, I know. It’d be nice if you told me what it was,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s not a surprise if I tell you,’ I say simply, the boy muttering something under his breath as we reach the front door. I push it open, stepping through the doorway with Jeongin behind me, and I can feel the nervous energy practically radiating from him as we head further into the party. This is the first time he’s left the house to go further than the local shops and I can understand his anxiety, which is why I reach out and take his hand into mine, leading him through the big groups of people, to where they said they’d be in the kitchen.

‘Okay, I have some good news,’ I say when we reach the door of the kitchen, his hand still in mine, and he looks relieved that he’s finding out the surprise. ‘What’s the good news?’ ‘You can carry on living in 325 Sunshine Street,’ I say excitedly, looking forward to his reaction, and his face lights up. ‘You’re not selling it?’ he asks breathlessly, eyes sparkling with excitement, and I hesitate. ‘It’s still being sold… to me. I’m moving in,’ I say tentatively, and he doesn’t react for a moment. I worry that I’ve got this all wrong, that this is the last thing he would want, and that this is going to ruin the friendship that’s developed between us, the friendship that I treasure more than I realised. ‘You’re moving in?’ he asks, and I nod slowly. ‘I mean, only if you want me to! I don’t have t-’ ‘I want you to. I really want you to. Are you serious?’ he asks, eyes lighting up as he speaks, and relief floods through me. ‘Yes, I’m serious. I’m buying the house!’ I exclaim, and he lets out a loud whoop of excitement, pulling me into his arms. He’s so real, so warm and soft, and he doesn’t feel like a ghost at all.

‘That’s the best surprise you could’ve given me!’ he says contentedly, pulling away from me, and I can’t help but grin at him, so happy that he’s happy. ‘Actually… I don’t think it is. I have an even better one for you,’ I say excitedly, and he eyes me suspiciously. ‘Another surprise? Better than you moving in?’ ‘Mmhmm. It’s in the kitchen,’ I say, and he looks at the door before looking back at me. ‘Can I…?’ he asks, and I nod, laughing. He holds a hand up to the door, looking nervous as he pushes it open, and when he opens it, I wish I could imprint the look on his face to my brain forever, the look of pure wonder and happiness making me feel warm inside.

I can hear loud yelling from the kitchen before Jeongin rushes in, and I follow behind him, watching with a fond smile as his friends greet him and hug him for the first time since their exams all those years ago. For the first time since he died. I reached out to Chan last night, who was the one trying to sell the house, and told him everything. He told the other boys, and they told me they’d be at the party tonight, asking if I could bring him so they could see him again. When I first spoke to Chan, I suggested they all move into the house with Jeongin, but he told me that some of them were married with children. They had their own families now, and it was too late for them to move in with their old family. Which is when I came up with the idea to live there myself. I still have to work out the logistics, and how I’m going to tell my parents that I’m moving out of their house to live with my friend that they’ve never heard of in the house I’ve been trying to sell for months and haven’t been able to do so. But that’ll come later.

Jeongin’s eyes are full of tears and so are his brothers’, all of them radiating happiness as they embrace, and try to catch him up on what’s been going on in the past few years. He looks so young next to them, but I can see the echo of what they were at school, his presence making them seem younger too. I stand in the doorway and watch, wanting him to have his time with them, but he turns to look at me after a few minutes, telling them he’ll be right back. ‘You’re the best. Thank you,’ he says sincerely, pulling me into another hug, and I feel my heart melt. ‘You’re welcome. Now go back to your family, stupid. You’ll have all the time in the world to speak to me, when we live together,’ I say with a grin, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You’re the stupid one, y/n,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow, and my heart swells when he says, ‘don’t you know you’re my family now too?’

‘Did you hear that? How cute,’ I say to Chaeryeong as we enter the living room, wanting a reprieve from the racket those boys were making in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, but what’s the context? Because it’s not cute if she’s into him. That wasn’t even friendzone – it was familyzone,’ Chaeryeong says, making me laugh. ‘I didn’t think about that. Poor thing,’ I say as we head to the bathroom. There’s a little room before the actual bathroom itself, with mirrors lining the walls, and we head to the one in the corner to check our appearances. I nearly have a heart attack when I spot a wrinkle creasing my forehead, and I feel faint when I see grey locks streaked through my hair, making me look more like the Bride of Frankenstein than the sexy vampire I’m dressed up as. ‘I’m gonna cry. Look at the state of me. I look like an old lady,’ I wail miserably, Chaeryeong giving me a pitying look. ‘You don’t, y/n! This hairstyle is in!’ ‘Okay, but wrinkles all over my face isn’t!’ I shriek, the girl wincing when she spots them. ‘Well… you’ve gotta break the curse then.’ ‘I’ve been trying. It’s harder than you think. I’ve been doing so many selfless and generous things, but apparently not without judgement, even though I wasn’t even being judgemental,’ I complain, and Chaeryeong raises an eyebrow.

‘What have you been doing?’ ‘I paid for the coffee of the guy behind me in Starbucks, even though he totally wasn’t my type. I gave this half-troll girl a pad when I went for dinner with Yuna last night. I stopped to let an old man cross the road, and he was super slow. I did loads of other stuff too!’ I list off, and Chaeryeong shakes her head despairingly. ‘y/n, you moron! You judged every one of those people!’ ‘No, I didn’t!’ ‘Listen to how you just described them. A guy who wasn’t your type. A half-troll girl. An old man. You’re supposed to look past people’s appearance, but that’s the way you just described them all, stupid!’ she exclaims, and my mouth falls open. She’s right. I am stupid. ‘Oh, my God. I’m never gonna break this curse. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I look at people without seeing what they look like?’ I wail helplessly, Chaeryeong rolling her eyes at me.

Before she can speak, a girl dressed as a devil walks in, ranting and raving angrily, and Chaeryeong exchange a glance. She looks like she’s crying, her friend trying her best to comfort her. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask, and she looks at me in surprise before letting out a loud sob. ‘No,’ she wails, and I step towards her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, and her friend sighs. ‘Her ex is here, with his new girlfriend, and they’re dressed as an angel and devil. She thinks her ex’s new girl is a better devil than she is, and now she feels like an idiot that she’s wearing a couple costume with her ex, but he’s here with his new girl,’ her friend explains, and I wince. It’s an awkward situation to say the least, and I feel really sorry for her. If that was me, I’d probably leave out of embarrassment, especially if I thought her costume was better than mine.

The girl in front of me is in all black with a red belt (a devil tail hanging from it) and red devil horns, with red contacts like mine, and she looks around the same size as me. ‘Oh, my God, I just had the best idea! Why don’t we swap outfits? You can have my fake fangs and I brought fake blood, too, and I’ll have your horns and belt! Then you can be a sexy vampire instead of a sexy devil!’ I suggest excitedly, the girl’s eyes lighting up. ‘You’d do that?’ ‘Of course. Exes are, like, the worst. Here,’ I say, pulling my fangs out and rushing into the bathroom to give them a quick wash. When I came back, she’s taken off the belt and horns, holding them out to me. ‘You’re really nice, you know? Thank you so much,’ she says sincerely, looking a lot happier now than she did a minute ago, and I grin at her. ‘No problem,’ I reply, passing her the fangs, and I help her to put some fake blood around her mouth and in two dots on her neck. She keeps thanking me and we even exchange socials before she leaves, because she says she wants to keep in touch with the girl that saved her Halloween. I can’t stop smiling as I put on the belt and horns, carefully wiping away the fake blood on my mouth and neck, touching it up with my foundation. It feels nice to do something nice for someone.

‘Oh, my God!’ Chaeryeong exclaims, and I look at her worriedly. ‘What?’ ‘Look at your hair!’ she practically screams, and I look at myself in the mirror. The grey has disappeared from my hair, and so have the wrinkles on my face. My body feels a little stronger than it did a few minutes ago, and I poke my tongue around at the back of my mouth, finding that there are no longer gaps where three of my teeth fell out yesterday. ‘I broke the curse!’ I say excitedly, Chaeryeong pulling me into an excited hug. ‘Look how easy it was!’ ‘I know! God, this’ll teach me to stop being such a bitch. Ugh, I’m so glad to have my teeth back! I’m gonna go find Seungmin,’ I say, wanting to tell him, and she nods. ‘I’ll be with the girls. Just phone me if you can’t find us,’ she says, and we leave the bathroom, going our separate ways.

It doesn’t take me long to find Seungmin – I can hear his friendship group from a mile away – and he grins at me as I approach. ‘You just broke it, didn’t you?’ he asks, and my eyes widen. ‘How did you know?’ ‘It’s obvious. Look how excited you are. How did you do it?’ he asks, and I explain to him, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘See how simple it is? I’m glad you’ve learnt not to be a judgmental bitch now,’ he teases, and I shove him half-heartedly. ‘Whatever. But, honestly… I really have learnt my lesson. I feel terrible about that witch now. I’ll never be nasty again,’ I proclaim, and Seungmin raises an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see about that.’ ‘Well… I’ll try to never be nasty again,’ I amend, and he laughs. ‘That sounds more like you.’

‘y/n! Long time, no see! Are you two back together?’ Changbin slurs drunkenly, throwing his arms around us, and I wince as Seungmin closes his eyes momentarily. ‘No. We’re not,’ he replies, Changbin cringing. ‘Oh. Sorry for making it awkward. I’m gonna just…’ he trails off, turning back to the boys and whispering loud enough for us to hear, ‘they’re not back together, Jisung. You owe me a twenty.’ Seungmin sighs, putting a hand over his face as though he’s trying to keep himself together, and I let out a little laugh. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘It’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,’ I say, and Seungmin hesitates before saying, ‘I actually wanted to speak to you about that.’ I freeze for a moment, blinking as I try to process his words.

‘About… us?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I know you ended things because I’m immortal, but I… found something. I’ve been looking for a… solution to that problem, and I found one. There’s this… potion, I guess, a really complicated one that takes a long time to brew, but I collected all the ingredients and I’ve started brewing it already,’ he begins, and I’m itching to hear the rest of what he’s got to say. ‘It’s an immortality potion, but it works in different ways, depending on who takes it. If someone mortal takes it, they become immortal. If someone immortal takes it…’ he trails off, and I finish for him; ‘they become mortal.’ He nods gravely, and I don’t reply for a few seconds, mind working at a million miles an hour.

‘So you want me to take the potion to be immortal?’ ‘No! No, y/n, God, no! I’d never ask that of you!’ he says quickly, looking shocked that I even asked, and then I realise what he means. ‘You’re suggesting that you take it? To be mortal?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘But… is that what you want?’ I ask, and he sighs, taking a few moments to reply; ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and… yeah, I think so. I mean…. I don’t want to outlive everyone around me, everyone I care about, and love. And it’s not even outliving them, it’s seeing them turn 30, 40, 50, 60, whilst I still look like a teenager. I don’t want that to happen. I want to grow old with the people I love. I… I want to grow old with you,’ he says quietly, and I feel my heart stop momentarily. ‘Me?’ ‘Yes. You, y/n. I still love you. A lot, actually. I’d do anything for a life with you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but I thought I’d tell you, because I know that’s the reason you ended things. I guess… I’m hoping that that was the only reason, and that now I can fix it, you’ll have me back. But I get it if you don’t want to-’ ‘I do, though. I really, really do,’ I say without even thinking, and his eyes widen, face lighting up.

‘Wait, really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin. I do want to have you back. But… I want you to properly think about this. It’s a big sacrifice that you’re thinking of making, and I want you to think it through.’ ‘y/n, I’ve been thinking it through the entire time we were broken up, the entire time I was looking for the potion. It’s all I ever thought about. I want this,’ he says earnestly, and I know that he’s being truthful, that he really has thought this through properly. He’s mature and responsible, and I know he wouldn’t rush into a decision like this without thinking it through properly. ‘Okay,’ I say simply, and he blinks in surprise. ‘Okay?’ ‘Okay. I’ll be with you.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin, really,’ I laugh, and he lets out a loud shout of celebration, throwing his arms around me in a hug and I giggle at his reaction, touched at his excitement. ‘Are you back together?’ Jisung demands when we break apart, and I roll my eyes as Seungmin sighs at him. ‘Yes. We are now.’ ‘Ha! Changbin, you better give me that twenty back!’

‘Oh, that reminds me of our bet!’ Jisung says suddenly, all of us looking at him in surprise. ‘What? What bet?’ Yuna asks, and the boys exchange yet another cryptic glance, none of them speaking. ‘Oh, my God!’ Lia exclaims, finally losing her patience, ‘what is wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just tell us what the hell is going on? Or, at least, stop talking about it in front of us! Because I’m fed up of it n-’ ‘y/n,’ Chan says suddenly, cutting Lia’s tirade off, and we all turn our gazes to him. ‘I wasn’t talking, it was Lia-‘ ‘I know. I just… can I have a word with you? Outside, please,’ he says quietly, and I blink in confusion. What’s with the weird timing, and what exactly does he want to say? ‘Um, yeah, okay,’ I say softly, completely confused, and Chan rises from his seat, holding out a hand to help me up too. He leads me through to the back of the house, taking me out into the grounds, and he sits us down on a bench, a group of boys sat smoking weed on the bench on our left, and two other boys having a heart-to-heart on the bench to our right.

‘What’s the matter, Chan? Are you okay?’ I say concernedly, and he gives me a faint smile. ‘I’m fine. I just… I’ve got something important that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but it’s kinda… serious. Just, um… prepare yourself,’ he says seriously, and I side-eye him. ‘You’re scaring me, Chan.’ ‘It’s not bad! Well, maybe it is. I don’t know,’ he rambles, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Chan, just tell me.’ ‘Sorry, sorry. Um, so, basically… you are my… um… my mate,’ he says slowly, wincing as he speaks, and I just blink for a few seconds before asking, ‘Your mate?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Like… life companion forever?’ ‘That’s right, yeah.’ ‘But… I’m a human,’ I say slowly, unable to believe what he’s saying. ‘Anyone can be our mates. Even… vampires, or demons. So, yeah… you’re my mate. But just because you’re my mate, it doesn’t mean I have to be yours,’ he says, almost sounding sad. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, puzzled, and he sighs.

‘Humans don’t have mates, so you can be with anyone you want to be, fall in love with anyone you want to fall in love with. You don’t have to be with me if you don’t want to,’ he explains, and I feel even more confused. ‘Wait, so what does it mean then? Like… I’m your mate but I don’t have to be with you? So what’s the point of it then?’ ‘It means that I will never… want anyone else, or love anyone else. Not that I want or love you – I barely know you – but y-’ ‘I know what you mean. So… if you don’t end up with me, you’ll end up alone?’ I ask, and he nods sadly. ‘But don’t… force yourself to be with me because of that. I want you to be happy, whether or not that’s with me,’ he says, and I can feel the burden of it already settling on my shoulders. I’m the love of his life – he’ll never love anyone other than me.

‘Um…’ I begin, but Chan cuts me off, ‘you don’t have to, like, make any decisions, or even say anything. I just… thought it was important that I told you.’ ‘Yeah, I know. I’m glad you told me, because now I can tell you that I’ve been crushing on you since the second I saw you, and I’d really like it if we went on a date together,’ I force myself to say, feeling so nervous even though he’s just told me I’m his mate. He just stares at me for a second before he says, ‘really?’ ‘Yeah. Really.’ ‘Well… I’d really like it if we went on a date, too,’ he says with a grin, and I can’t help but smile back shyly. ‘God, y/n, I was supposed to ask you out! Not the other way around!’ he complains, and I let out a fond laugh, amused at his childish behaviour that he’d never show around the other boys. ‘Well, you did make the first move by telling me I’m your mate,’ I point out and he thinks for a moment before a satisfied smile spreads across his face. ‘Yeah, I guess I did,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes.

‘Come on, let’s go back in. You must be cold out here, and we better get going. We’ll be turning soon,’ he says, standing up and taking my hand to pull me up from the bench. ‘So what’s the bet Jisung mentioned?’ I ask, curious, and Chan lets out an embarrassed laugh. ‘Whether or not I’d tell you tonight. They all betted I wouldn’t, and I said I would. They owe me ten each now,’ he says with a victorious grin. ‘I’m gonna deny all knowledge,’ I laugh, and his mouth falls open. ‘You wouldn’t betray me like that!’ he exclaims dramatically, making me giggle. ‘I won’t if you share the money with me.’ ‘y/n,’ he begins, eyes sparkling with amusement, ‘you’re my mate. I’d share my life with you if you asked.’

‘Ugh, did you hear that sappy shit that wolf was saying? Oh, y/n!’ Jisung says when he sees me, eyes lighting up which makes my heart stop for a moment. ‘Hey,’ I say, sounding breathless to my own ears, and Jisung grins at my tone, looking up at me stood before the bench with dark eyes. ‘y/n. It’s nice to meet you,’ the boy sat next to him says, and my eyes flit to Hyunjin, the boy Daehwi originally tried to set me up with. He’s even hotter in person. ‘Hey, Hyunjin. It’s nice to meet you too,’ I say shyly, and he grins. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it. But I’ve heard Jisung more than made up for my absence. You two have struck up quite the friendship, right?’ he asks, and my gaze turns to Jisung, the boy smirking, and I look back to Hyunjin before nodding. ‘Yeah, we have, actually. He’s a great friend.’ ‘And a great wingman too, by the sound of it,’ Hyunjin grins, and I feel my face heat up at the thought that these two very attractive boys both know that less than two weeks ago, I was an untouched virgin who wanted to have sex before my first ever date. I’m embarrassed beyond belief, and it’s like they can both sense it, amusement settling on both of their faces.

‘Yeah, y/n, speaking of which, where is your date?’ he asks, and I remember why I came out here, a pout making its way onto my face. Jisung and Hyunjin move apart, making space for me on the bench, and I throw myself down with a long, dramatic sigh. ‘He is literally… so boring,’ I admit, both of them bursting into laughter. ‘Don’t laugh! It’s not funny! I’m, like, heartbroken!’ I complain, annoyed that they think this is funny, but I can also feel myself holding back laughter. ‘Sorry, sorry. But… y/n, I thought you wanted to have sex with him. You don’t have to find him fascinating,’ Jisung says, and I let out another long sigh. ‘I’m not like you stupid boys. I don’t wanna just have sex with someone because they’re good looking. I was attracted to him until I found out he’s literally the most boring guy I’ve ever spoken to in my life. Okay, maybe not boring. Just… we’re not compatible, so it was really, really awkward. And the worst thing was that it seemed like he didn’t even realise that is was awkward. He just kept talking,’ I explain, the boys nonstop laughing as I talk, and I’m laughing along with them by the time I finish speaking.

‘That’s such a shame, y/n,’ Hyunjin says, still laughing, and Jisung says, ‘maybe not. I don’t want you in a relationship.’ I look at him in surprise, and he looks surprised too, as though he didn’t mean to say the words out loud. ‘You were good, angel. I’d like it if we c-’ ‘Okay! Okay, you don’t need to finish that sentence,’ I say embarrassedly, not wanting him to say it in front of Hyunjin who fails at stifling his laughter. ‘So why are you here, y/n? You’re best friends with Daehwi’s girlfriend, right? And she’s here. Why are you out here with us?’ Hyunjin asks, and I hesitate, not exactly sure myself. ‘I guess… I wanted to come and complain to Jisung about the fact that he took my virginity for no reason, because I’m not even gonna have sex tonight,’ I say miserably, kicking at the gravel like a sulky little kid. ‘I mean, you could,’ Jisung says with a grin, Hyunjin bursting into laughter as I choke on thin air. ‘I’m kidding.’ ‘No, you’re not,’ Hyunjin chuckles, and Jisung says, ‘you’re right, I’m not.’ ‘Well… thanks for the offer, but I’m not in the mood. I’m too upset,’ I say dramatically.

‘Let me cheer you up then,’ Jisung says, and I side-eye him. ‘I just told you I’m not in the m-’ ‘No, I don’t mean that! Let’s go dance together, or we’ll go somewhere for food if you’re hungry. Let’s get your mind off… Soggy Seonghwa,’ Jisung says with a grin, both Hyunjin and I dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. ‘Soggy Seonghwa?’ I giggle, Jisung nodding. ‘I don’t think he deserves the Sex God title,’ Jisung says, tone all shady and gossipy, Hyunjin and I laughing even more now. ‘Well, whatever. You don’t have to cheer me up, it’s okay. I’ll go find one of the girls and get blackout drunk,’ I say, Jisung frowning. ‘No, no. I don’t have to cheer you up, but I want to cheer you up. I mean…’ he trails off, and Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at Jisung, as though there’s something going on here that I don’t know about. ‘We’re friends, right?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Of course.’ ‘Well, you must know I see you as more than just a friend, and I think you see me as more than just a friend too. So, yeah. I’m kinda relieved things didn’t work out with Soggy,’ he says, and I’m too shocked to laugh, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

He sees me as more than a friend? ‘Wait, what do you mean?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘I like you, y/n, and you like me too. You might not know it, but you do. I can tell from the way you feel when I’m around. So let me… woo you,’ he says, making me laugh, and his lips curl up into a small grin. ‘Woo me?’ ‘Mmhmm. Let me dance with you, or take you for food, or take you back to your apartment,’ he smirks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Having sex is not wooing me.’ ‘I never said anything about sex,’ he grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So what would we do?’ ‘I don’t know. Watch a film? Cuddle? Bake? What is it you human girls like to do when you’re dating someone?’ he asks, and I let out a gentle laugh. ‘That stuff sounds about right. But I don’t want to leave yet.’ ‘Okay. Let’s go dance then,’ he says with a grin, jumping up from the bench and pulling me up with him. ‘Hyunjin, you coming?’ Jisung asks, and I’m reminded that the other boy is sat there too. He smiles up at us, eyes shining with happiness, and he shakes his head. ‘You guys go. Have fun. I’m gonna find a cute little human girl. Got any friends, y/n?’ he asks with a mischievous grin, and I laugh. ‘Quite a few. And you’re hot, so you can take your pick,’ I say, Hyunjin jumping up from the bench at that, all of us laughing as we head up to the house. ‘Wait,’ Jisung says when we reach the back door, looking at me with a scowl, ‘did you just call my best friend hot?’

‘He is pretty hot, though. I won’t lie,’ I say to the boy as I step out through the back door, the pretty girl dressed very similarly to me and the two pretty boys on either side of her looking at me. ‘Yeah, I am, right? Can I get you a drink?’ the taller boy asks with a cocky grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘My boyfriend’s getting me one,’ I say, and his grin falls. ‘You just said I’m hot,’ he complains, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m Lucifer’s daughter – I can say what I want,’ I tell him, and his mouth shuts straight away, the girl looking a little scared and the other boy looking amused. ‘Shame you’re in a relationship. You’re pretty hot,’ the taller boy says, and I grin at him. ‘Thanks. She’s hotter, though,’ I say, pointing at the girl who looks like she wants to curl in on herself and disappear. ‘Me?’ ‘Mmhmm. You got that cute little innocent vibe going on. Makes you even hotter.’ ‘Oh. Thanks,’ she says, a little more at ease now after the compliment.

‘She likes him,’ the taller boy says, pointing at the short boy who’s grinning proudly. ‘Share her,’ I say, only half-joking, and the girl coughs out of shock. ‘Share me? I’m not a chocolate bar,’ she says indignantly, and I feel my eyebrows go up in admiration – she’s a feisty one. ‘I like you, angel. You into girls?’ I ask, and the shorter boy’s smile drops. ‘You’ve got a boyfriend.’ ‘What about it? You think Princesses of Hell conform to different sexualities? Or to monogamy?’ I ask, purposely trying to piss him off, and he opens his mouth before closing it. I look at the girl again, waiting for her answer. I’m not actually interested (I mean, I wouldn’t say no) but it’s fun to tease her little boyfriends like this. ‘I’m… open to anything. But I do kinda like him,’ she says, pointing to the shorter boy, and I shrug. ‘Shame. I’m way hotter than him,’ I grin, the boy letting out an indignant noise.

‘I’m getting you a drink, and you’re flirting with someone else?’ I hear Felix’s voice behind me, and I turn my grin to him, my heart jumping at the amused smile on his face, the boy handing me a cup of some fruity flavoured vodka. ‘Ah, you’re the boyfriend? I’d sort her out if I were you – she’s flirting with my girl,’ the shorter boy says, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s just jealous because he knows I could steal her if I wanted,’ I tease, baiting him, and he scowls at me. ‘Stop trying to steal the demon boy’s girlfriend, please. I’m not in the mood to hold you back from a fight today,’ Felix says, and I look at the shorter boy interestedly. ‘You’re a demon?’ I ask, surprised Felix realised and I didn’t, and he nods. ‘An incubus. So is he,’ he says, pointing at the other boy who gives me a lazy grin, and I look between the three in them with amused interest.

‘This just got way more interesting. A human girl has two incubuses wrapped around her little finger,’ I observe, the taller boy blinking in surprise. ‘I just met her,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You think she’s hot, though?’ ‘I’m not blind, of course I think she’s hot.’ ‘You got competition, kid,’ I say to the shorter boy, the frown on his face making me hold back a laugh. ‘Anyway, I don’t care about you two. Well done, girl. Bagged yourself… at least one incubus – I don’t know about this guy, but the other one definitely likes you. He’s, like, radiating jealousy right now,’ I tease, enjoying this, and Felix puts an arm around my waist. ‘Okay, that’s enough picking on the human girl and her incubus boyfriends,’ he says softly, the three of them letting out annoyed noises. ‘He’s not her boyfriend!’ ‘He’s not my boyfriend!’ ‘I’m not her boyfriend!’

‘Relax, he’s just kidding,’ I say as Felix begins to pull me towards the living room. ‘You’re a handful,’ he mutters amusedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s fine, Lix, you don’t have to worry about me.’ ‘I don’t. I worry about the poor thing that you piss off to the point where they try to fight you and then you kill them,’ he says tiredly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t kill them. Probably just injure them a little.’ ‘Wow, I’ve really changed you, huh?’ he jokes, and I shove him gently as we reach the farthest corner from the DJ booth, both of us perching on the bay window.

We’re silent for a few moments, just looking at all the partygoers. It’s been quite a few hours now, so people are very drunk. The wolves left a little while ago, ready for their turn, and the vampires are making the most of their absence; they’re all scattered out into the party, biting people (consensually – I think) left, right and centre. The humans here seem at home around us otherworldly beings – in the space of a minute, I notice a human boy making out with a wizard in the corner, a group of human girls and succubuses dancing together in the middle of the room, and a pixie boy on the lap of a human girl, the two of them playing cards with their pixie and human friends. It’s quite nice to see the way everyone mixes together so freely, without worry or judgement, but we all know that nothing like this would happen in any other district. That’s why District 9 is so special.

I look at Felix, the boy deep in thought, and I lean against him, pressing a kiss to his neck. ‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask him against his skin, and I can feel him grin. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about,’ he says, and I groan, making him laugh. ‘That was so cheesy.’ ‘You’re dating an angel, babe. Get used to the cheesy lines.’ ‘I might have to dump you if you use another one.’ ‘If I can deal with you flirting with random human girls and demon boys, and nearly starting a fight with one of them, you can put up with a bad line every now and then,’ he grins, putting a hand on my chin and tilting my head back to press his lips to mine. ‘You’re lucky you’re so cute, because I wouldn’t put up with it from anyone else,’ I grumble when we break apart, and he smiles at me softly.

‘I’m so glad God was fine with it.’ ‘Of course she was! I told you she would be. You just worry too much.’ ‘I know, I know. I can’t believe you spoke to God dressed an angel when you’re literally her biggest betrayer’s daughter.’ ‘Did you just refer to my dad as God’s biggest betrayer?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, and he winces, making me laugh. ‘Sorry.’ ‘It’s fine. He’s not that good a dad, anyway.’ ‘Oh, God, have you got daddy issues? Would be nice if you’d told me before I started dating you,’ he says, mirth in his eyes, and I shove him gently. ‘You’re so annoying.’ ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. ‘You’d be boring if you weren’t so annoying.’ ‘Oh, thanks.’ ‘I’m kidding. Kind of. No, I’m joking, I’m joking. I wouldn’t have you any other way,’ I admit when he starts pouting, laughing at the proud grin that stretches across his face.

‘You’re so whipped for me.’ ‘I am not whipped.’ ‘You are.’ ‘Am not.’ ‘It’s okay. I like you whipped. Whipped you is super cute.’ ‘Cute?’ ‘I was gonna say sexy, but I thought that’d make you act up,’ he laughs, and I raise an eyebrow, feeling my eyes glow red and watching the grin from his face slowly slip away. ‘You thought right,’ I reply quietly, hand snaking up his chest to the back of his neck, and he gulps imperceptibly. ‘You think there’s any empty rooms upstairs?’ he asks, hands sliding around my waist, a small smirk on his face. ‘Trust me, I’ll make one empty if I have to,’ I grin and his smile grows as he takes my hands into his, our drinks discarded when he pulls me up from the windowsill. ‘You know,’ he begins, pulling me towards the stairs, ‘I never thought it’d be so sexy to hear you threaten to murder people so we can have sex in an empty bedroom.’

‘I’m so tired of all this romance,’ I wail, throwing myself back against the sofa, and Yuna raises an eyebrow at me, holding back a laugh. ‘Romance?’ ‘She threatened to kill people for him. That’s so romantic.’ ‘She’s a demon, so it’s not a big deal for her.’ ‘Did you just say murder isn’t a big deal?’ I ask, and Yuna is silent for a moment. ‘This party’s changed me,’ she says with horror, making me burst into laughter and momentarily forget about my drunken wallowing. ‘It’s crazy being around all these different… magical people,’ she says quietly, obviously not wanting one of the said magical people around us to hear and take it the wrong way. ‘We’re always around vampires. This isn’t any different, if you think about it,’ I say, reminding myself of vampires and then letting out a dramatic cry, Yuna shaking her head amusedly at me.

‘y/n, just go speak to him if you’re that upset. There’s no point ruining your own Halloween by being all drunk and sad. Just speak to him, get it out of the way, and then you can enjoy yourself!’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to enjoy myself if he breaks my heart,’ I say dryly, and she thinks for a second before saying, ‘he already did, didn’t he?’ ‘Well… yeah, but-’ ‘So what have you got to lose? Go, speak to him.’ ‘I thought you were calling him an idiot earlier,’ I say pointedly, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I was before I realised you’d be moping all night and drowning your sorrows in the worst alcohol I’ve ever smelt in my life,’ she spits, making me laugh when she scrunches up her nose, pushing my cup further away from her. ‘It doesn’t smell that bad.’ ‘Tell that to your breath.’ Yuna!’ ‘I’m kidding! But here,’ she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out bubblegum, handing me two pieces. ‘If you’re gonna go speak to Hyunjin, you don’t want to smell like cheap gin,’ she says as I down the rest of my gin and put the bubblegum in my mouth, quickly chewing it down from solid little shells into stretchy elastic gum.

‘Okay, now go. Seriously,’ she prompts, pushing me up from the sofa, and I nod, looking down at myself. ‘How do I look?’ I ask, and she inspects me. ‘Touch up your lipgloss. And take the jacket off – it covers how cute your top is,’ she says, and I do as she says, applying some more lipgloss from the tube that’s in my back pocket before pulling off my jacket, Yuna taking it from me. Now, I’m just in black leather trousers, a black crop top and black heels, looking more like sexy Sandy than pretty pink lady Sandra Dee. ‘Go. And don’t tell the girls you’re going – they’ll stop you and give you all sorts of stupid advice,’ she instructs, and I nod, heading towards the kitchen before I lose my nerve, avoiding the girls dancing in the middle of the room. I take a deep breath when I reach the door before putting my best uninterested face on, pushing the door open and revelling in the way all eyes turn to me. It’s much quieter in here, due to the door separating us from the loud music, and the fact that it’s very late and a lot of people have already left, so I can hear people whispering about how I look.

I ignore the whispering, not bothering to look around yet because I don’t want Hyunjin to catch me looking at him, and just head towards the fridge, pretending to decide what to have before I reach for a small glass bottle of alcoholic pink lemonade. I close the fridge, looking around the room for straws and I spot them, right beside where the vampire boys stand. I head towards them and they all go quiet, obviously expecting me to speak to them, but I don’t bother, just reaching for the packet of black straws and pulling out a clean one. I begin to walk away, hoping my plan will work, and I have to stop myself from punching the air when I hear Jeongin call out, ‘y/n!’ I turn back around slowly, pretending to be surprised when I see them. ‘Oh, hey! I didn’t see you guys there. Where have you been all night?’ I ask, taking a couple steps towards them but still keeping my distance, my eyes staying on Jeongin and not straying to the annoyingly handsome boy beside him. ‘We’ve been around. The question is, where have you been all night? There’s eight of us, and one of you, and none of us have seen you,’ Changbin says with a grin, and I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip from the lemonade. ‘I’ve been around,’ I reply, and his eyebrows go up, an impressed look on his face. ‘Touché,’ he murmurs, a grin spreading across my face at that.

‘I’m gonna head back to the girls in the living r-’ ‘Why in such a rush, y/n? Stay and chat for a bit,’ Felix says with a small smile, eyes cryptic, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘About what?’ ‘You.’ ‘What about me?’ ‘What you’re dressed up as,’ Felix says, and I laugh softly. ‘I was a pink lady, but I got too hot, so I took my jacket off. Is that all?’ I ask, the boys exchanging a glance. ‘No, no, not quite,’ Jisung says, and I roll my eyes. ‘What else then?’ I ask, sounding exasperated to my own ears. ‘I wanna know why you’re so drunk,’ Seungmin says dryly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I’m not that drunk.’ ‘Your eyes aren’t fully focused, the smell of peach gin is literally dripping off you, and you’re chewing on bubblegum to try and cover it up,’ he says pointedly, and I let out a little sigh. ‘Okay, so maybe I’m a bit drunk. What about it?’ ‘You’re usually so responsible, y/n. It’s not like you to get drunk. What’s going on?’ Minho asks, smirk on his face, and then I realise what’s going on. They know what happened, and they know that I’m hurt and that’s why I’m drunk, and they’re basically dangling it in my face.

‘If you must know,’ I begin, all of them practically hanging off my words, ‘I was drowning my sorrows, but now that I’m so drunk I can barely see straight, I feel a lot better. So good, in fact, that I might take the incubus I spoke to a little while ago up on his offer. So, if you’ll excuse me.’ I turn on my heel, heading back towards the living room, and then I hear his voice. ‘y/n, wait,’ he says softly, and I freeze, taking a deep breath before I turn back to face them, the boy shrinking in on himself when he sees my face. This is the first time I’ve looked at him properly, and it breaks my heart how beautiful he looks, his soft dark locks falling over his eyes, tall and lean build dressed in all black, top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and trousers skin tight. ‘Yes?’

‘Drowning your sorrows?’ he asks softly, and I want to scream at him, my eyes filling with tears. ‘The embarrassment of leaving me without a word wasn’t enough, and neither was the ghosting me or the telling your friends about what happened so they could interrogate me whilst I’m smashed, so now you have to humiliate me by making me spell out how hurt I am? Is that what’s going on here?’ I demand, voice wavering, and about a million emotions pass across his face, the most prevalent being guilt. ‘No, y/n, that’s not what I-’ ‘I don’t care. Please… just leave me alone like you have been the past few days,’ I spit out, turning back towards the living room, and then I hear sudden movement, feeling a hand grab my arm a few moments later.

I turn around to see him, desperation on his face, and wrench my arm away angrily. ‘y/n, please, let me… explain,’ he pleads, and I hesitate. This is all I wanted, an explanation, and that’s what I came in here for, but now… I don’t know if I can handle the hurt. We stare at each other for a few seconds until I open my mouth, not quite sure what I’m about to say. ‘Fine. Explain,’ I say quietly, relief appearing on his face. ‘Can we go outside?’ he asks, and I nod as I put my drink down on the counter top, letting him lead the way out of the kitchen and out through the back door, everyone whispering behind us.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says when we’re sat down on a bench, and I let out a humourless laugh, not even looking at him. ‘You can’t be that sorry; you’ve been ignoring me and avoiding me since that night. No reply to my text, no call back, and you didn’t come to the apartment once. So forgive me for not believing you,’ I spit out, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n, I am sorry. And I know I shouldn’t have ghosted you, but I wasn’t sure what I else to do. I should’ve just spoken to you and explained from the start.’ ‘You don’t need to explain. It’s pretty obvious,’ I say bitterly, and I can see him smiling sadly out of the corner of my eye. ‘No, y/n, you don’t understand,’ he says gently, and I meet his eyes as he tells me, ‘I love you.’

I feel my heart stop, my entire body freezing, and it takes a little while to process what he’s telling me. He loves me. ‘So… I heard right. That night, when I was falling asleep, you said it then, didn’t you?’ I ask, and he nods with sad eyes. ‘And it scared me so much that I left.’ ‘But… I love you too,’ I tell him, and he doesn’t react as I expect, just smiling wistfully and nodding. ‘I know you do. You have for a while, and I’ve been lying to both of us by pretending I didn’t know, and pretending I didn’t love you back. But I did, the whole time. I do.’ His words are all I’ve wanted to hear from him, for so long, and yet, he looks so sad, sounds so sad, and it’s breaking me. Why is he acting like there’s something between us that’s stopping this? ‘You love me, and I love you. What else is there to say?’ I ask, and he lets out a mirthless laugh.

‘You’re a human, and I’m a vampire,’ he says simply, as though that explains everything, and I blink at him before saying, ‘what about it?’ His lips curl up into an amused smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I’m over 300 years old. You’re, like, a fifteenth of that-’ ‘So what? We look the same age anyway.’ ‘We won’t forever. You’ll only get older, and I’ll stay the same. You’ll be 90 dating a 20-year-old.’ ‘That doesn’t matter. We’re in love, Jin. I don’t care what you look like, or what I look like.’ ‘And neither do I. But I won’t even be able to love you in public in a few years’ time, y/n. People will think you’re, like, my sugar mommy or something.’ ‘But I don’t c-’ ‘And, not just that, you’re alive. I’m dead. We can’t have a family, or have children-’ ‘Ugh, I don’t want kids. I never have,’ I say, nose scrunched up in disgust at the thought – all they do is eat, cry and shit. I’d rather not, to be honest – and he lets out a laugh. ‘You might change your mind as you get older.’ ‘Then we’ll adopt.’ ‘y/n…’ ‘I’m being serious! Wouldn’t you prefer to give a kid a better life than they’d have in the care system? Better than me having to carry a baby and my body getting all fucked up because of it.’ ‘And then the kids we adopt will grow to look older than their dad,’ he says pointedly, and my mouth is open, but no words come out. I’ve run out of solutions.

‘It doesn’t matter, Jin,’ I whisper, and he shakes his head sadly. ‘y/n, you’re being silly. You know that it’d never work out. I love you and you love me, but I can’t ask you to give your life to me, when I can’t give mine to you. We can’t grow old together, can’t start a family, can’t love each other in public – these are basic things in a human relationship.’ ‘But we wouldn’t be a human relationship.’ ‘Which is exactly the problem,’ he says softly, and I don’t even know what to say, my eyes full of tears. ‘I’m sorry, y/n. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but you make it too easy for me to love you,’ he whispers, taking my hands into his and my tears spill over onto my face, making him let out a gentle laugh. ‘Don’t cry,’ he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss my tears away, and my eyes flutter shut. I wish I could live in this moment with him forever.

‘Okay, I’ve got a solution,’ I say, mustering up the courage to tell him something that’s been on mind for months now, and he breaks away from me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Living in seclusion so we don’t have to deal with people judging us for the difference in the ages that we look?’ he asks suspiciously, and I laugh. ‘That’s not what I was gonna say, but it’s a good idea,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes. ‘It is not. What’s your solution?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘you turn me.’

He doesn’t react, just staring at me for a few seconds before he says, ‘I must be losing my mind because I could swear you just suggested me turning you into a vampire.’ ‘I did.’ ‘y/n, are you fucking crazy?’ he demands, and I sigh. ‘Jin, hear me out-’ ‘No! Are you actually insane? There is no way in fucking hell!’ ‘Why not, Jin? What would I lose? The pale thing is a myth, the burning in the sun thing is a myth, the-’ ‘y/n, are you listening to yourself? That stuff might be myths, but you will have to drink blood to survive! You will watch generations of humans that you love die! You will lose your humanity!’ ‘Jin… I don’t care. The blood thing doesn’t bother me at all. You haven’t lost your humanity, so I don’t think I will either. And… maybe it’ll suck seeing my family die, but my friends… they want the same too, Jin. We’ve all been thinking about it and discussing it, and we all want to turn,’ I admit, his eyes nearly falling out of his head.

‘This isn’t, like, a matching tattoos thing! This is serious!’ ‘We know, Hyunjin, we’re not stupid! We’ve been discussing it for months! But I don’t care if they do or not – I want to anyway. I want to be with you… forever,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘No. I won’t turn you, and I won’t let anyone else do it either. It’s not happening.’ ‘Hyunjin, please. This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I promise I’ve thought it through. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of time with you. I was just waiting to see if you felt the same way before I mentioned it to you. It doesn’t have to happen straight away, obviously, but I just want you to consider it,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘You don’t understand. My selfish side wants it more than anything – you think I don’t want to spend the rest of time with you? But my responsible side can’t let you give up human life for me.’ ‘Why? It’s what we both want. We’ll be happy, Jin, so happy, forever. I don’t expect you to agree to it, but promise me you’ll at least think about it, and we’ll discuss it regularly,’ I say, and he doesn’t say anything, looking down at his hands. ‘Please, Jin,’ I plead, and he sighs deeply before his eyes meet mine, my heart stopping like it does every time he looks at me.

‘I’ll think about it. That’s all,’ he says over my loud shout of celebration, an amused smile curling up his lips as I throw my arms around his shoulders, his hands coming around my waist to hold me against him. I tilt my head back to press my lips to his, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kiss – it’s only been a few days, and it feels like a lifetime. He grins against my mouth and we break away after a few seconds, his lips coming to my forehead. ‘I love you,’ he murmurs against my skin, and I feel like I’ve never been happier when I reply, ‘I love you too.’

We stand up from the bench after a little while, holding hands as we head back up to the house. ‘You wanna dance?’ he asks, and I can’t say yes quickly enough, my eagerness making him chuckle. ‘Oh, the girls are gonna kill me.’ ‘Why?’ he asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘maybe because they all hate you for ghosting me, and we’ve been cussing you nonstop since you left.’ His mouth drops, fear in his eyes, and I wave it off. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be fine when I explain. But they didn’t even know I was coming to speak to you.’ ‘Well, neither did you. You came to get a drink,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re 300 years old and you still don’t know about girls, do you? I came to get a drink because I knew you’d speak to me, stupid,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and his eyes widen. ‘You’re so sly.’ ‘Oh, whatever. You should be glad. If I hadn’t set it up, we wouldn’t be…’ I trail off, not actually sure what we are, and a small smirk spreads across his lips.

‘Wouldn’t be what?’ ‘I don’t know. What… are we?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ he asks amusedly, as though he thinks it’s silly, and I know he’s only asking for my benefit. ‘Yes,’ I grin, preening at the question, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, I suppose,’ he laughs, and I laugh along with him, half finding it ridiculous that after confessing that I want to be a vampire so I can spend the rest of my life with him, our relationship is reduced down to boyfriend and girlfriend, and half ecstatic that I can officially call Hwang Hyunjin my boyfriend.

‘Do you know how exciting this is?’ I ask, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. ‘We’ve practically been dating for months already anyway.’ ‘I know, but it’s official. Now I can tell people you’re my boyfriend instead of saying you’re my hot friend,’ I explain, and he looks at me in confusion. ‘Who have you been saying that to?’ ‘On nights out, when girls would ask if you’re my boyfriend. I’d say no, you’re my hot friend, and they’d ask if you were single.’

‘And what would you tell them?’ he asks suspiciously, and I bite my lip. ‘No. Obviously. Why would I want all these pretty girls trying to get with you?’ ‘You’re the only pretty girl I’d ever want, y/n,’ he murmurs, making my heart skip a beat, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m being serious! Look how hot you are in your… costume,’ he says amusedly, eyes travelling up and down my body, and I roll my eyes. ‘I promise you, I was wearing my Pink Ladies jacket a little while ago,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow, taking his own jacket off and putting it over my shoulders. ‘That’s better. I don’t like people looking at what’s mine,’ he says lightly, only half-joking, and I feel my stomach fill with butterflies. ‘Now,’ he says sternly, face serious but eyes shining with amusement, ‘what did you say about an offer from an incubus?’

5 YEARS LATER

Chan and y/n are married and living together in the house next door to the pack house, raising three little werewolf pups. y/n still works night shifts at the diner because she’ll miss it too much if she leaves, and she’s the only one who knows the wolves’ after-turning orders off by heart. She has it ready for them when they arrive, and she feels herself falling in love with him all over again each time he walks in, the same way she did the first time he walked in with his sandy hair and his bright sparkling eyes.

Minho and y/n are in a long-distance relationship – she’s in District 9 and he’s in the 2nd Circle of Hell. He stays at her apartment a couple nights a week, and he takes her for date night every Saturday. Ryujin and Chaeryeong are also seeing a couple of Minho’s friends – y/n’s friends and his friends make quite the dysfunctional group. y/n found a ring in his jacket a little while ago and has been waiting for him to propose, waiting eagerly until she can say yes. She hasn’t come up with a solution to the problem of him not aging when she does, but that can come later, because their love is all that matters to her right now.

Changbin and y/n are happily ruling together in the 5th Circle, doing whatever they can to turn demon hunters back to their original state. They have had a child together and y/n is pregnant again – Minho and his girlfriend pay regular visits because of how much the human girl adores their child. They are old, so old, but y/n feels like a little girl when she’s with Changbin – their love keeps them young and happy, and will do so for the rest of time.

Hyunjin and y/n still live in their apartment, now as an engaged vampire couple. They’ve been engaged for a couple years now and still haven’t started wedding planning yet – they have all of eternity to do that. Lia and Yeji have both turned, and Yuna, Ryujin and Chaeryeong plan to do so too, in the next year or so. y/n’s family knows what she and Hyunjin are, and they have since gotten over their initial despair about the fact that their baby girl will stay this way for the rest of time, and the couple are always welcome at family events. The two have discovered that vampire blood tastes so much better than human blood, and has better effects than human blood too. y/n is still Hyunjin’s little blood bag, but she has a particular fondness for the name now.

Jisung and y/n have their own apartment together in District 9, and they are very much in love. At the beginning, y/n found it difficult that Jisung has sex with people for a living, and so they began… training y/n, building up her stamina and tolerance in a sexual sense, and now she can satiate Jisung alone. Even if she couldn’t, Jisung still wouldn’t have sex with anybody else – she’s the only one he ever wants. y/n and Seonghwa are good friends now, and Jisung and y/n regularly meet up with Seonghwa and his husband (Jisung found it hilarious when they got news of Seonghwa being closeted all that time – he claimed that it made perfect sense because no straight human boys are good enough at sex to get the title of Sex God). y/n still gets a little upset that Jisung can’t get her pregnant, but she’s come to terms with it and the couple have now started to look into adoption.

Felix and y/n have bought a house together on Earth, their common ground, and are engaged – y/n found it slightly ridiculous when Felix proposed to her, considering they’re otherworldly beings that don’t really conform to humans’ customs like marriage, but she still said yes in a heartbeat. Lucifer and God both regularly reach out to the couple, asking them to visit, and have even showed up at their house a few times (it was more than awkward when they both visited at the same time). Felix and y/n stayed a few weeks in the 5th circle with Satan’s daughter and her love, and their child took a particular liking to Felix. After seeing him with the child, y/n suggested they have children of their own, and they have begun trying to get pregnant.

Seungmin and y/n are living together in District 9, the two of them slowly aging together as a happy married couple. y/n redecorated Room 13 at the surgery for Seungmin, and she much prefers it now, spending a lot of her time there with him, training to become a magical nurse. Seungmin’s mum was over the moon when y/n started making appearances at family events again, and she played the part of the enthusiastic mother-in-law perfectly at their wedding a year ago. y/n is still trying her best to be a nicer person, and she is mainly succeeding. She slips up every now and then, but Seungmin is always at her side to pull her up on it.

Jeongin and y/n lived together at 325 Sunshine Street for a little over three years before Jeongin sat y/n down to tell her that he wouldn’t be a ghost for much longer, and would be passing over to the afterlife soon, as he had discovered that his unfinished business was the house. He’d found someone worthy of living in the house, and they’d truly made it a home – where he and his friends had made it fit to live in, a house in only a home once it’s full of light, love and life. And once y/n had brought that, his business on earth was finished. She held back her sadness over the last few weeks of his time with her, and threw a farewell party with all of his friends. She felt her heart break when she awoke one morning to find that the other side of the bed was empty, and he was gone forever. Jeongin’s friends drop in nearly every day to check on y/n, and she’s doing much better than she was when he first left. She still misses him, more and more every day, but she’ll be okay, because she knows that even if she can’t see him, he’s always with her, no matter what.

[spidernerdsblog]

Love Is The Biggest Spell : Chapter Five

A/N : Chapter five is here. This chapter should have been posted on Halloween lol but never mind. Hope you like this chapter. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Warlock Tom Holland x half mortal reader

Summary : Witches are forbidden to fall in love with mortals. But what if your long lost love returns to you as a mortal, can you defy your heart? Any spell any magic seems useless in front of the magic of love. Let’s join our lovers in their magical conquest beyond life and death as they fight for their love unravelling dark mysteries of the past along their way.

Warnings : mild language, witchy stuff.

Mini Playlist : Can't help falling in love with you

After you had your breakfast Tom drove you to college. You were walking to your classroom. 

"Y/N!" You heard the voice you despise the most right now call out to you. You didn't look back and quickened your pace. 

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N hey wait please." Cole ran to you grasping your wrist. 

"Leave my hand, Cole!" You yanked your hand away from him. 

"Y/N just listen to me for once I can explain." he pleaded. 

"What more do you have to explain, Cole? That you were making out with me but magically it turned out to be someone else."

"Yeah exactly." 

"Cole can you just stop now. I'm not going to judge your life choices but I hope you enjoyed sucking her mouth." 

"Y/N please you can't do this to me."

"Umm mate I think Y/N made it quite clear that she doesn't want to talk to you." Tom intervened. 

"Listen dude let's just not pretend that this isn't the best day of your life. So please stay out of this"

"Cole! You can’t talk to him like that.” 

"A guy showed you a little affection for one night and now he is the good guy. So typical of you Y/N." you were literally hurt by his words.

"You know what Cole? I was actually thinking of forgiving your not so sorry ass but now I'm so over that thought, we are done for good Cole!"

"C'mon Tom let's go." You stormed off dragging Tom with you by his wrist to the library. 

You slumped down on the seat as Tom took the opposite seat to you 

"I can't believe Cole would say that! I'm an attention seeker? Seriously?!" You seethed. 

"How did you guys even fall in love?" Tom asked out of courtesy though he had no interest in knowing that. 

"You know childhood best friends it was like we owed to date each other." you shrugged.

"Maybe we can do something to divert your attention?" 

"And what is that?" 

"Finish our assignment I guess that's still pending." 

"Seriously?" you gave a disinterested look. 

"What? That is much better than talking about your douchebag boyfriend, ex boyfriend" 

"Yeah maybe some witchy stuff can help keep me distracted." you walked to the shelves and pulled out some books and placed them on the desk with a loud thud. You picked up a book and were turning over some pages in a book and stumbled upon something as you frowned. 

"What’s Dark Baptism?" 

"Huh oh it's a sort of ceremony. The Dark Baptism is the most sacred, unholy sacrament the witches practiced for centuries. The oldest of their rites. A novice witch signs his or her name in the Book of the Beast, and gives the Dark Lord dominion over their soul and in exchange he gives them unlimited power and eternal youth." Tom explained. 

"Huh what’s the use of such powers if I have to give up my freedom of will?" you scoffed. 

"It’s the only one of several possible interpretations, see like all religions have symbolic gestures and demand sacrifices right?" 

"Signing the Book of the Beast is more like a pledge to abide by the devil's commandments." 

"But the Dark Lord aka Satan is the embodiment of evil." You state. Tom corrects you immediately. 

"As per texts he is the embodiment of free will and that he goes beyond the mere concepts of good and evil and the infernal punishment of the "False God"."

"So what about Hell?" you ask.

"If you accept the Dark Lord's gifts, then you won't die for a long time and Hell is for mortals. In exchange for their service and devotion, witches are exempt from the eternal flames of damnation." Tom explains. 

"That's some crazy ass bullshit." You laugh it off. 

"But you seem to have quite in-depth knowledge about these things. Do you happen to practice witchcraft in secret?" you narrowed your eyes. 

"Maybe, who knows" he shrugs." Why are you so invested in knowing all this?" he counter questioned you. 

"Nothing just general curiosity that's it." You shrug. 

"General curiosity or is it about the visions or nightmares whatever you have." Tom smirked.

"Who-who told you.." You stutter. 

"Jane told Harrison and he told me."

"Those are just some stupid dreams that's all."

"Or may be not, maybe you are a psychic or a witch "

“Ha ha very funny.”

"Okay leave all that." Tom cleared his throat. 

"Hey I know it would be really inappropriate for me to ask you. You know you can totally say no."

''Hey it's okay we are friends now c'mon spill it out." you held his hand reassuringly.

"Umm my mother seems to have liked you a lot the day you stopped by our house and wants me to invite you to our Halloween party. It's kind of a spooky themed business gala. "

"Your mother likes me or you?" you narrowed your eyes with a sly smirk.

"No I swear my mom told me to invite you." Tom flustered.

"Okay then tell your mom that I would love to go."

"Oh thanks." Tom’s eyes lit up like a child.

"And by the way if you want me to be your date just ask." You winked. 

"It's - it's nothing like that." he stuttered. 

"Relax anyways I'm single now." you giggled.

"So what are you divs doing?" Harrison dropped in between your conversation.

"Nothing just getting ready for my dark baptism." You chuckled though Harrison gave a mortified look as he exchanged glances with Tom. Who shook his head dismissively to let him know he hasn't said anything. 

“Uh okay..have you seen Jane anywhere?" 

"Why do you also need some attention?" You joked lazily placing a hand on Harrison's shoulder and instantly backed off with a light gasp. 

"You okay?" Harrison asked looking at your horrified expression.

"Yeah, yeah I'm-I’m  fine." you stammered blinking your eyes.

"I'll go and find Jane." You walked away huskily. 

…….........

Agatha and Zendaya visited a farm to purchase a black goat to be used for sacrifice during your dark baptism in the woods. 

"What is on your mind mother? A few days ago you wanted that half breed dead but now you are here arranging for her dark baptism. I don't understand any of this."

"Well you three failed in your task and I'm grateful to Satan for that this time because I recently found out she is the key to perform the spell by which our coven will gain infinite powers."

"What spell?"

"For now you don't need to know more than this. Just remember that girl needs to be protected."

…………..

It's 31st of October and you are officially 25. You were at the cafe as Jane came in all bubbly and chirpy.

“Happy Birthday babe!!!” Jane exclaimed, giving you a tight hug.

“Thank you babe.” Tom and Harrison dropped in after sometime.

“Isn’t it your birthday day? Why the hell are you working today?”. 

“Because it’s my birthday.”

"Well somebody has got the whole concept of birthday wrong." tom quipped.

“Here we brought something for you.” He placed a cake box on the table.

“Jane dear can you arrange this for us please.” Harrison asked her sweetly.

“Of Course will.”

“Seriously guys you didn’t have to do this.” Jane was quick to arrange the cake on a tray with some candles and placed it in front of you. You blow out the candles as they sing for you.

“Thank you so much guys.” your heart swelled in happiness.

“We would have loved to stay but we have another party to arrange so see you girls in the evening.” Harrison said.

“I'll pick you up at seven.” Tom informed you softly.

“Will be waiting.” You smiled. After they left you turned to Jane. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah what?" 

"What do you know about Harrison? Apart from he's a sex God. His family and life." you snickered.

"Umm they are rich, business partners with the Hollands. Loves his mom and sister a lot. Why?" 

"Nothing, you are my best friend just don't want you to fall for the wrong guy. I finally learnt my lesson. Heh." You chuckled slowly. 

“Don’t worry babe if he does something bad I’ll give you the privilege of kicking his ass.” She laughed and went to the back of the shop. 

Now how will you tell her that when you touched him you had one of your stupid visions. You saw blood, pentacles, human skulls, it felt so inauspicious the darkness engulfing you. Your eyes went to the blown out birthday candles and you suddenly remembered about the night where the candle caught fire on it’s own. Then you recalled Tom saying that you may be psychic and you suddenly got the idea of testing the fact.

"This is all a hoax, I'm not psychic nor a witch. I was drunk and was seeing things." you said to yourself and took a deep breath.

"Well here goes to nothing." You focused on them but nothing happened. 

"Huh, definitely a hoax" you blew out your cheeks and turned to do your work. But when you turned around again to your surprise each and every candle was lit up magically. You exhaled deeply, frowning.

……………

Reaching home you went to your room and saw a big gift box kept on your bed. You took the lid off the box to find an expensive black dress with a note. 

Happy Birthday Y/N. Will be really happy if you wear this tonight.  Love T. H

You smiled and held out the dress in front of you admiring it in the full length mirror in your room, it was the most exquisite thing you have ever seen. The soft silky fabric with intricate lace work was literal work of art. You changed into the dress and decided to let your hair down for tonight with minimal jewelry and makeup. 

Meanwhile Tom and Harrison were getting ready in their finest tux for the gala and your baptism. 

"You really gifted her the wedding dress." 

"Well it's an important night for her she will be turning into a complete witch and hopefully her memories will come back after that." Tom said, fixing his cufflinks. 

"You ready son?" Nikki walked into his room. 

"Yes mother." Nikki could see in his eyes that something was bothering him. 

"Don't worry I talked to your father and I will be presenting your dear Y/N for her baptism." Tom's eyes lit up hearing the news. It's usually the mother who presents her child for the baptism but your mother will not be able to attend it so the whole thing of who will be presenting you was bugging him for a while. And hearing that his mother is going to do that relieved him. 

"Really mother! Thank you so much." 

"I’m really happy that you’re finally going to be happy in your life son." 

Tom was there to pick you up sharp at 7. You stepped out of your house as you saw him waiting for you leaning against his car. He couldn't take his eyes off you. You literally looked like an angel he thought.

"You look gorgeous, love."

"Thank you, you look surprisingly dapper too." 

"Thank you." 

"But you didn't have to buy me such an expensive dress. The whole night now I will be so self conscious of not ruining the dress."

"I will buy you a new one don't worry."

"Ha ha not happening again. Now let’s go"

He opened the door of the car for you as you sat inside the car. You reached his place in an hour and stepped out of the car holding his hand as he led you inside. 

You walked into the ballroom and your breath was caught at the grandeur. You’d never been in a space that made you feel so small–or so plain. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished it looked like an iced-over lake. And it wasn’t just the ballroom–the women sparkled like a box of jewels, shades of emerald and ruby and amethyst swirling before you, their low chatter accompanying wafts of rose and hyacinth and jasmine.

"Whoa dude am I supposed to be a part of this gala? I mean just look at all the people around." you gave out a nervous laugh.

"You were always supposed to be here Y/N."

You are immediately greeted by Jane and Harrison.

“Hey you made it!” Jane hugged you and your dress caught her eyes.

“Damn girl now that’s a one of a kind ball gown.” She giggled as you blushed.

“Only for the one of a kind girl.” Tom snickered.

You, Tom, Harrison and Jane then hit the dance floor, slow music playing.

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

You clasped on to his hand placing another hand on his shoulder blade as he did the same. You began moving back and forth waltzing around the ballroom. Spinning and circles and shuffling your feet to the slow, rhythmic music. It was paradise, but even more so when your eyes met.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you

His eyes were chocolate brown, which made your knees buckle and your lips quiver. He narrowed his eyes slightly and let out a small chuckle. Your dress was getting in the way and your heels were making you clumsy or you were actually clumsy around him. He noticed your discomfort and changed his stance making it easier for you to follow. His grip tightened on your hand giving it a comforting squeeze making your heart skip a beat.

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes

You swayed to the music, bodies so close, his hand still grasping yours. This was perfect as if time stood still, your gaze filled with burning desires as he looked down to your slightly parted lips. Tom was trying to get a read on you as you looked at you longingly. You could feel your cheeks burning and you knew you're blushing on the outside which only made his smile grow wider.

Some things are meant to be So take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you

He dropped your hand but before you could frown he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body even more closer. His kind, smiling face met yours as you felt his sweet, warm breath fanning your face. Your breath hitched all that brooding, pining and longing stares just for this magical moment. Out of instinct you tilted your face a little, closing your eyes. But instead Tom knelt down to your ear  and whispered.

“Parere mandatis meis.” You opened your eyes with a vacant gaze as if someone robbed you of your emotions and reasoning. You stood there like a living statue. 

"Y/N now listen to me carefully you are going to do whatever I say okay?" 

"Yes." You nodded in a mechanical fashion. Agatha walked towards you.

"Is she ready?" 

"Yes Lady Layman”

"Good then bring her to the altar." 

“Was the hypnosis necessary?”

“You got a better idea to make your non believer half witch willingly go through her baptism?” Agatha quipped.

“No” He answered lowly.

“Then bring her outside fast midnight is approaching, the blood moon will appear soon.” She ordered.

The party moves outside, where the moon is at its fullest and begins to turn red. With midnight approaching, everyone rushes off into the woods. Tom took you to a gate burning with blue flames, you pass through the blue flames unharmed and arrive at your baptism, where the Holland's, Osterfield's, Layman's, and many other important delegates are in attendance. 

"All this grandeur for a half breed's baptism, how pathetic is that?" Zendaya quipped, rolling her eyes. 

The priest assigned for your baptism arrived at the altar.

"Welcome daughter of Night" 

"Who presents this girl for unholy baptism?" He reckons.

"I do." Nikki states. 

"We are gathered here in these woods in the presence of our dark lord, with all the souls, the living and the dead, of our coven

the most unholy church of dark." He addresses. 

"Kneel child." You kneel in front of him in your trance. 

The priest smears blood over your forehead and read you your rights and demands your loyalty.

"There is no law beyond. Do what thou wilt." He states. 

"Our dark lord asks - 

" Would you like to be happy child, to be free?" 

"Free to love and to hate? To be what nature meant you to be, true to her laws and yourself only?" you stay numb Tom takes the initiation. 

"Say yes Y/N." 

"Yes, father." You say as you were told. 

"Do you believe in Lucifer, the archangel, who preferred the loss of Heaven to that of his pride?" 

"Yes, father." 

"In exchange for this belief, you shall be granted powers that will enable you to be of service to the dark lord." 

"Y/N Warren are you willing to forsake the path  of light and follow the path of night wherever it may lead you?" 

"I am" 

"And are you willing to place our dark lord above all others in your life, be it your loved ones, friends, family." you pause for a moment but under the hypnosis spell even if you wanted to but you couldn't make your own decisions. 

"I ...am" 

"Then it's time to sign his book." The weather started to deteriorate as strong winds started to blow and thunder rumbling at a distance could be heard. 

Meanwhile at your home your mother was turning restless with the sudden change in the weather she ran to your Aunt Rose's room. 

"Rose what's happening?"

"It's about time Martha." Rose says coldly. 

"What do you mean? Where is Y/N?" Martha panicked. 

"Don't worry she will be fine but for some people this is the beginning of their end"

"Mom what's happening?" Erica came running too. 

"Oh Erica you are here can you fetch me the ancestral calcified bowl." Erica did as she was told. 

"Martha give me the ashes of Amber." She handed over a bottle of ash as Rose poured it in the bowl. She lit the candles around the bowl with her magic and chanted. 

"Here and now 

I evoke the elemental force of Fire

the flames of creativity and passion

dancing source of heat, light and life. 

I seek the flowing forge within

I call you forth to burn away

All that impedes my highest vision

And to enact change in the world

Lightning and hearth

Hearth and forge

Fire, I call thee hence" 

Rose focused on the ashes in the bowl as flames erupted in it. 

"Y/N wake up, recognize your true self" 

“Phasmatos Incendia Ignis absumet Ignarious. Ignarious! Ignarious Ignalusa”

Meanwhile you were standing at the altar and an ancient book was kept open on the flat stone in front of you. The priest took a knife and made an incision on your hand as a drop of blood flowed down from the cut on the page. Tom was behind you as the priest signalled him to proceed; he took your hand with the pen to sign your name in the book. Just when you were about to sign the Dark Lord’s Book of the Beast with your blood, Rose's invocation ritual broke the hypnosis spell on you and you were snapped out of your trance. The fog that clouded your mind got lifted as you felt light headed. It took awhile for you to process what was happening around you. 

"You swear to obey without any question any order you may receive from tHe dark lord, or from any figure He placed in authority over you." 

"In signing you swear to give your mind, body, and soul unreservedly to the furtherance of the designs of our lord satan." The priest went on.

"No!!" You yanked your hand away from Tom's grasp. 

"What do you mean no child?" the priest frowned. 

"Who are you? Where the hell am I?!" You looked around in confusion. 

"Tom what's going on? Where's Jane?!" you look at him with panic stricken eyes. 

"Y/N,love, listen to me this is for your own good just complete the ritual" 

"Is this some kind of Halloween prank because it's not funny."

"You think you are sick with some neural disease that is why you can't feel warmth. Y/N don't you understand that you are not human." Tom tried to make you understand.

“Tom why are you so up to prove that I’m some sort of psychic?”

''You are a smart girl Y/N don't tell me the visions you get doesn't seem real? That you didn't light up a candle just by focusing your mind on it." agatha quipped.

"You are a half witch Y/N magic runs in your blood and to reach your full potential you have to submit to our Dark Lord" 

"Whatever I maybe there is another path for me. A third way. And even if there isn't, my name is Y/N Warren, and I will not sign it away!" you stated. 

"If you don't complete the ritual then you have to face the wrath of the dark lord." Agatha warned. 

"The only thing I'm gonna do is to get away from you jackass people."

The coven tries to stop you from escaping as everyone chanted in unison. 

“Crescere arbor” 

While you attempt to escape you become entangled in magical possessed vines which held you to your place.

"Why can't I move?" you struggled to free yourself. 

"You're not leaving unless and until you complete the ritual."

Suddenly the stone of your antique necklace starts glowing, emitting a reddish orange aura which just grew in intensity as time passed blinding your eyes. A sudden rage started to grow inside trying to burst out. 

Your body was shaking imminently as the blazing inferno coursing inside you was becoming too much for your body to handle. You forced your eyes open and a chill ran down the spines of everyone present for the ceremony. You irises appeared like burning coals of fire. 

They flashed with anger, a burning animosity growing in your amber orbs. Tom couldn't recognize you anymore you appeared to be a totally different person. 

Flares started erupting from your hands soon turning into flames ready to engulf anyone that came in your way. The flames spread to the magical vines holding you as they were burned into ashes setting you free. You gasped as you looked at your hands on fire. 

"What's happening?! What did you guys do to me?!" You panicked. 

"Y/N, love calm down. Just try to control it"

"I can't!!'' You growled 

"I can help, just let me help you Y/N" 

"No! Don't come near me." You warned with a hoarse voice. A ring of fire formed around you.

"Tom do something or she will burn down the whole forest." Harrison said in panic. 

''You've nothing to fear no one will do you any harm."

"Just calm down and everything will be fine. Close your eyes and focus, love"

You closed your eyes taking in measured breaths trying to calm yourself. It worked as the raging inside you dissipated. Your hands were no more on fire. 

"Suctus Incendia" everyone chanted in unison and the fire died down. 

You on the other hand felt weak and drained out as you collapsed on the ground unconscious. 

…………………………………………………………………..

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[artsyxloner]

Not just a Monster

Warning: drinking

19: Another Infected

Ji-Soo laid on the recovery table fast asleep. She was still kinda pale but that will soon go away once she starts healing. The group managed to find antibiotics if she got an infection.

I would have given her some of my stuff but it burned up in the car explosion. I've been in here for a while, making sure nothing went wrong. Watching to see if her side was turning red, or started to swell.

It could get infected easily and-spread throughout her body if not watched or treated carefully. Soon Jae-Heon came in, I smiled. He was pretty badass for a man that worships God and is also a great swordsman.

( please note that this is not meant to offend anybody, my religion is Christianity )

He took a seat, laying down some white candles he brought with him. checking over Ji-Soo. I could tell something was going on between them but neither announced it yet. I guess in a world like this it was hard to.

" What are the candles for?" I questioned but waited as he lit them with a lighter. Clasping his hands together he bowed his head and began to Pray. Watching him, I haven't prayed in a long time.

I use to think what was the point, thinking it wouldn't do any good since I did a terrible sin. But seeing how Jae-Heon is still keeping his faith even after killing monsters it was the same difference.

Killing is killing.

If I ask for forgiveness will it help? will I finally stop feeling guilty and move on? Will I be able to forgive myself? I wish I knew what to do I was uncertain. But I closed my eyes and bowed my head.

Dear lord

I know I shouldn't be asking for your forgiveness... but please lift me of the sin I committed and if possible I could somehow forgive myself someday and in hopes, they can too. let my family Rest In Peace.

I finished reopening my eyes, I jumped a little realizing Jae-Heon was watching me. " God will forgive you Soo-Nico for whatever you've done." He reassured me, I felt my heart was weighing heavy.

I had to ask since he's was the only one that I could talk about religion. " how are you so sure?" Was he going to forgive me? For something as terrible as that? Jae-Heon had a knowing look on his face. " Because he's a merciful God,"

With that answer, I nodded, " I don't mean to pry but what were you praying about." I wanted to ask, I probably seem nosy. I saw him glance at Ji-Soo," for someone to live a long, healthy, happy life."

Now it was my turn to give some words of encouragement. " They will," it was short and simple but effective. Jae-Heon patted my shoulder. " you're a good kid, I'll watch over her. you should go eat something to build up your strength,"

he informed, me I had to laugh, now that he mentioned it I was pretty hungry. Rubbing my stomach I got up, bowing. Leaving the room, heading to go get something to eat.

His words somehow made me feel better. They were having dinner in the day-care-center walking in I had grabbed my plate sitting down beside Hye-in. I guess it was better to eat with people than being alone.

She was happily eating, away I noticed she had a white face mask on. She looked like a puffy marshmallow, it seems like they have all washed up. I needed a wash. Taking my spoon, I scooped some rice and took a bite.

" Ms. Cha, " Hye-In spoke up getting the woman's Attention, She had looked up. " I thought that you were tan but you're just really dirty." Hye-In laughed, I raised an eyebrow.

" Thanks.." Ms. Cha stared at her I couldn't believe she just said that. " I'm saying you look good now." what she didn't look better before?

" I got these masks in the mail. Want one?" Hye-in offered to pulling up her shirt, revealing a couple of packs of face masks. Well, that's one way to hide them.

" No, thanks. I know That I look pretty without it." This earned all kinds of laughs around the room. " wait, Seung-Wan needs it." Byeong-ll point making  Seung-Wan clap back defensively.

I have I admit it was pretty funny, as we chatted, Sun-Young walked up to our table she seemed nervous. I wondered what about it? " I should go outside." Before I could take another bite I stopped looking up at her. What for?

" I think I'm starting to have symptoms." that's when all the attention turned towards her. It was quiet, " I should've told you sooner." Sun-Young had a long face as if she was disappointed for not telling. " I guess I didn't want to believe it. I'm sorry."

No one can blame you it's scary finding out your showing symptoms it's like your life just has been ripped away. It's hard to accept. " I just don't want to put everyone in danger. So I should go before it's too late—"

Ms. Cha, interrupted Sun-Young, " still you shouldn't go outside." She dismissed. " she right. You're still human, you'll die if you go outside." Hye-In agreed. But Jay-Hwan thought otherwise.

" –We can't let her stay here?" I rolled my eyes, " why don't you shut up!" I fussed that's when Eun-Hyuk Entered the room. " why don't we all hold a vote?" Byeong-ll suggested a worried look was plastered on his face.

Then he all turned to us, " just vote how you feel, because this is like... taking part in a murder." I remembered those words, the day Eun-Hyuk guilt trip, everybody, to so they could vote for Hyun-Su to stay for selfish reasons.

But that was over and done with now, " I vote she gets to stay in the arcade." He raised his hand, I did also Even Seung-wan, " Me, too. Maybe she'll be able to hold out as Hyun-Su did?"

After that everyone raised their hands. I was Surprised when Eun-Hyuk's hand was raised, he has changed, well a lot of them have. It looked like Sun-Young was about to cry.

Soon everyone said their goodbyes, I felt bad she was going to be locked up. But it's what she wanted to keep everyone safe it's better than being outside.

At least they won't discriminate against her as they did to Hyun-Su and now be there for her. Things were changing for better than worse. Hopefully, it stayed that way.

After finishing my food, everybody was in a gloomy mood. They moved around sitting in different seats. " I could definitely use a drink on a day like this," Byeong-ll grumbled moving his pointer fingers around a small candle that was lit.

" There you go again." 

I didn't mine alcohol, but it sounds good right about now. Jay-Hwan told putting in one earbud," well, do you think Sun-Young will hold out like Hyun-Su?" Seung-Wan rethought his words he said earlier.

" I hope so. I thought it was just her husband, but her whole life is awful."  Hue-in announced, yeah I remember Suk-Hyun.

" lady you're face is Awful." Eun-Yoo sneered, I had to smirk, shaking my head. " well I think Byeong-all it right. We could definitely use a drink today."

Ms. Cha agreed I hadn't noticed she left, she was carrying a glass cylinder it was a beautiful dark red juice with raspberry in it.

Setting it down on the table unwrapping the top taking off the plastic wrap. " What is this Korean wine? Please tell me it is." Byeong-ll pleaded.

Everyone began to turn their heads to see. Gil-Seob sat up smelling the wine, " it's at least four years old." He looked up at Ms. cha and she nodded. He smelled it again as Eun-Yoo and I came over sitting beside each other.

" it could be as good as Medicine." I smiled, taking a glance at Eun-Yoo we were both too young but I already had some wine before but it wasn't that great but I was willing to give it another try.

Eun-Yoo Leander forward smelling it, " Yu-ri left early by the way." She informed him, she then moved pushing the Cylinder to me. " go on," she smiled I did to smelling it. God that smelled so sweet, my mouth watered.

" shall we finish this off before Eun-Hyuk comes?" She suggested, talking about her brother. Gil-Seob stuck his pinky in the jar getting a taste. We all began to laugh.

But stopped seeing Eun-Hyuk, he had a straight face, considering he was the leader he made the choices around here shit. " speak of the devil." Gil-Seob mumbled.

I was for sure he wouldn't let us drink, but to my shock he did. " just don't forget your duties." Eun-Hyuk then left, turning back around we quickly Gil-Seob began pouring the wine into small cups.

He handed them out giving me and Eun-Yoo one. I gladly Excepted it before I could take a sip Eun-Yoo nudged me. " hey, I saw you and Hyun-Su almost kiss." She whispered in my ear. My eyes went wide, feeling my whole body go stiff.

WHAT!?

I took a sip avoiding her stare, wow this was good and sweet, " don't be embarrassed you guys are cute together might as well hook up before you know what happens." She hinted, smirking at me.

I took another sip, gulping it down. Is this girl talk? From an actual friend? I wanted to be together with him and I confessed in way that was out of my comfort zone.

" Thanks... And yeah, what is better than two Infected's getting together in a world where anything and everything could go wrong." I said lowly enough just for her to hear.

She Seconded that. " his lips were this close!" I wined, showing her pinching my thumb and pointer finger together symbolizing how close were to kissing. I could feel my cheeks heat up, was I getting drunk I only took a few sips I must be lightweight.

I leaned my head on her shoulder kinda upset, she brought her hand up patting my head. " don't worry you'll get your chance, and you'll be the one to do it." She added.

I thought it over, " Me? why me?" My eyes glanced up. She huffed, " because Hyun-Su is too nervous, plus you made the first move he still wouldn't have done it if you didn't say anything." Eun-Yoo finished her cup like me.

I think that is enough Wine for today. I sat my cup down, feeling all fuzzy. Thinking about Hyun-Su's lips they were chapped and dry but it didn't matter I kiss them either way.

I then heard Eun-Yoo laugh loudly. Did I say that out loud? " you did!" She confirmed I was embarrassed hiding my face in my hands. Only me.

"All Alright!" Gil-Seob clubbed his hands together, " who's in for a story?" He recommended, " aren't we too old for stories?" Eun-Yoo stated, he only smiled. " not this one." is all he said

Taking a seat where everyone slept. We followed I laid my head on a pillow. " it was a very dark night with no moon. I lay down between the corpses and pretend to be dead, but u were watching them carefully." so this was a scary, story the Irony huh?

" the remnants of the people's army went inside the building, and the allied forces that were after them fired hundreds of shots at the building." He took the weird stick Jay-Hwan was holding and reenacted the gun fire-making Pow sounds.

He was on his knees saying it loudly but he suddenly stopped. " Hey, I know I saw them go into the building with my own two eyes," he said as if he was so sure. " they all went into the building but nobody came out of the building." I was interested now raising.

" and there were no dead bodies found. How baffling that building." He sucked in a breath looking around as if remembering something. It seems like everyone was on the edge of their seats. " Was here." Everyone gasped, raising hearing this.

" then?" Jay-Hwan gulped, " we have no idea what's buried underneath where we are. That's what I mean."

He Motioned towards the ground, " -what? -jeez." Someone asked not to believe this scared, I mentally laughed the only thing scarier than that is me in this room.

They had no idea, well except Eun-Yoo but then there was a loud bang since everyone was tense they all screamed. An unfamiliar man came running into the room wearing a black soldier suit." He came towards us seeing the jar of raspberry's sticking his hands in it eating them.

We all scooted back, Gil-Seob held up the stick ready to attack if needed. But Yi-kyeong strode in. " who are you, someone yelled. " I think he's a runaway soldier." He continued to eat, as the raspberry juice dripped on the table.

He then looked at his stained red hands, he kept mumbling something I think it was run? But from what? " quickly!" He freaked out then started shaking falling to the floor. What the hell?

Yi-kyeong grabbed onto his collar as the boys got up to help her. They dragged him away. " well that was unexpected." Hye-In blurred out. The girls nodded.

Seeing there was no reason to stay anymore, I got up and left before any more surprises popped up. I said my byes to Eun-Yoo, I figured I should search around for Hyun-Su.

A/N

Finally finished with this chapter. And please I'm sorry if an offended anyone talking about god, I don't mean to if you guys worship a different religion. I did it because it fits in with the characters' plot. And I also smell a great friendship coming up.

Thank you guys for the reads, votes, and support!! 🖤

[gffa]

Hey! Can I ask if George Lucas has ever said anything about the Jedi hate or if you're supposed to view the Jedi as the bad guys in star wars?

As far as I’m aware, he’s never said anything like that, no.  The most he really criticizes the Jedi for is that some of them are kind of arrogant, like he put the scene in AOTC in to show that and Yoda also says it in AOTC (and Yoda tends to be one of the most reliable narrators re: the narrative intentions, every time George talks about Yoda, it’s always in the vein of him being one of the wisest voices), but even then he also has Obi-Wan being willing to go ask Dex and listening to him, so, like, it’s not exactly a damning criticism.Other than that, George’s explanations for how the Force works echo what the Jedi teach in canon.  Literally word for word at times, like how anger leads to hate, hate leads to fear, fear leads to suffering, he’s directly said that’s how the Force works and we see it in Yoda’s explanation.  He’s said things like, “All my movies are about how the only prison you can really be trapped in is your own mind.” and then Yoda says pretty much that exact thing in The Gathering.  The Jedi’s teaching methods reflect what George has said is his view of the best teaching methods.  And so on.When George talks about attachment or Jedi philosophy, he doesn’t specifically address the idea of whether the Jedi are meant to be viewed as the bad guys (I’m not sure if that view was that popular during the time he was really doing a ton of interviews? so he might have even had the idea on his radar), but it is baked into the foundation of how they’re meant to be seen as right.Like, when he talks about the trajectory of Anakin’s arc, he has never, as far as I’m aware, said that the Jedi were responsible for Anakin’s choices.  Instead, he says things like, “Anakin got attached and couldn’t let go, so he made a deal with the devil.”  He says things like, “Anakin forced his friends to turn against him.”Or he says casual things like, “Blue and green lightsabers for the good guys, red lightsabers for the bad guys.” which is a tossaway comment, but shows that fundamentally, yes, the Jedi are the good guys.If he wanted us to think of them as The Actual Bad Guys, he would not have been subtle about it.  There would have been dramatic, ominous music swelling in the background, their Temple would have been shown as cold and sterile like the Imperial ships were cold and sterile.  We would have gotten Sheev Palpatine-style music and visuals, if that was the point of the Jedi.And George Lucas would have said it repeatedly, if that was meant to be the takeaway.  But instead he says stuff like, “The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through his life and that he can’t hold onto things, which is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn’t willing to accept emotionally and the reason that is because he was raised by his mother rather than the Jedi. If he’d have been taken in his first year and started to study to be a Jedi, he wouldn’t have this particular connection as strong as it is and he’d have been trained to love people but not to become attached to them.“But he has become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padme and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation. And it feeds into fear of losing things, which feeds into greed, wanting to keep things, wanting to keep his possessions and things that he should be letting go of. His fear of losing her turns to anger at losing her, which ultimately turns to revenge in wiping out the village. The scene with the Tusken Raiders is the first scene that ultimately takes him on the road to the dark side. I mean he’s been prepping for this, but that’s the one where he’s sort of doing something that is completely inappropriate.“   --Attack of the Clones commentaryNowhere in there does he put forth the idea that the Jedi were wrong or bad, when it would have been the perfect place to do it.  Instead, it’s consistent with how he talks about Anakin’s fall, that his attachments were what caused him to fall.  And that, if he’d been taken in by the Jedi earlier, he would have learned to love without attachment, which is precisely what they’re supposed to do:“[The Jedi are] not supposed to form attachments. They can love people-- in fact, they should love everybody. They should love their enemies; they should love the Sith. But they can’t form attachments. So what all these movies are about is: greed. Greed is a source of pain and suffering for everybody. And the ultimate state of greed is the desire to cheat death.”  --Making of Revenge of the SithAnd that’s what went wrong with Anakin at the end, George Lucas has said that, too--Padme backs away from him on Mustafar because he’s become a greedy person.  And that greed is of the dark side.  Attachment (in the sense of being unable to let go of things when it’s time/to let them be as they are) is of the dark side.So, he doesn’t say it directly that “Yes, the Jedi are the good guys, for fuck’s sake.” but everything in the worldbuilding he talks about supports that they are narratively correct and doing good.  I mean, disclaimer disclaimer disclaimer nobody’s perfect, not even the Jedi, nobody should be perfect, that’d make for boring characters, as well as then the slightest thing they did wrong would be equally as bad as someone who murdered a kitten, because that’s how polarization/purity culture works, but also the Jedi reflect all the narrative themes that George talks about his movies being about, so I’m pretty confident that we’re meant to go, yeah, they’re the actual good guys!

[filthy-rat]

Mary goore ask; Mary sees the reader at a gas station or a store, as they're walking home a creepy guy starts hitting on them and mary shows up to kick ass and take names - consensual, bloody, alley way sex with the corpse fucker ensues.

It’s late. Way too late to be out, but here you are. When the insomnia hits, it tends to hit hard, and you take to wandering, ravenously devouring the pulse of the city you call home. For the most part, you’re left alone by the other night owls. You carry a switchblade and pepper spray just in case, of course, but they hardly see any use and you’re grateful for that.

On one such night, you’ve wandered to a nearby 24-hour drug store in search of impulse purchases. You leave the convenience store, pop a piece of gum into your mouth, and place your earbuds back into your ears. With slow, heavy metal blaring from your phone, you don’t notice the footfalls of the menacing man following only a few feet behind you.

Suddenly, a leather-clad arm materializes out of thin air and snakes around your shoulders. Startled at the unexpected contact, you practically rip your earbuds out in shock and try to jerk away. The arm remains tight around you, pinning you close to a lean torso.

“Hey, what the fuck--”

“There you are, babydoll. Been lookin’ everywhere for you. Told you to wait for me at the shop,” interrupts the owner of said arm, in a voice that is much too loud.

The thin young man now at your side, gently but firmly pulling you down the darkened sidewalk, is a complete fucking stranger. He’s tall and ruggedly handsome--in a nasty gutter punk kind of way--with his black hair pulled into a messy devil lock that obscures a good chunk of his face, and a cigarette tucked behind one ear. With wide, panicked eyes, you stare up at him, bewildered, and he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

“Play it cool--there’s some fuckin’ creeper following you.”

Icy fears steals into your veins. Heart pounding, you allow yourself to be led down the street, stiff as a corpse beneath this guy’s arm. Whoever this stranger is, he certainly seems on the up-and-up, but for all you know, he could be in cahoots with your stalker. A tag-team sort of thing--he pretends to be your savior and leads you to an alley where he and his buddy take turns with you. Your anxious mind spins possibility after possibility, each more awful than the last. You try to twist a little to catch a glimpse of the man following you, but the string bean’s grip on your shoulders is like iron. For now, you have no choice but to trust this mystery man.

For several minutes, you walk in step, the tall stranger at your side occasionally muttering words of comfort into your ear.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna let him fuckin’ hurt you, I promise.” “Fucker’s been following us for like ten minutes.” “I’m gonna knock his fuckin’ teeth in.”

The minutes seem to drip by at a snail’s pace. By the time your mystery stranger guides you into a nearby alley, you’re trembling with nerves. Whatever’s coming is not going to be pleasant, you can already tell. Your hand slips into the pocket of your coat and closes around the switchblade inside. As the cold steel presses into your palm, you feel a modicum of relief, and your racing pulse slows a little.

About halfway down the alley, your stranger comes to a stop. His arm slips from your shoulders and as he turns to face your stalker, he gently pushes you behind him with one hand. Your fingers latch onto the sleeve of his leather jacket automatically, and it’s startling how much calmer you immediately feel. He flashes you a reassuring glance over his shoulder.

The stalker also comes to a halt, several feet away, and the two of them stare one another down.

“Alright, shit-for-brains, it’s about time you fucked off, yeah? They’re not interested in whatever you’re selling,” snarls your stranger.

“Why don’t you let them speak for themselves, then?” rasps the stalker, his voice sending a chill down your spine, and he takes a step forward. “Maybe if I hear it from their mouth--”

“Come any fuckin’ closer and you’re gonna be eating your own goddamn teeth,” replies your stranger, his stance widening a little as he prepares for the inevitable scuffle.

“How about you make me, you fuckin’ qu--”

The rest of the stalker’s sentence, however, is interrupted. In one lightning-fast movement, your stranger lunges for the stalker and tackles him to the ground. Frozen in terror, you can only watch on as they wrestle like two feral dogs, snarling and yelling and grunting. They trade blows for several minutes--your stranger getting in several good hits for every one of your stalker’s. Every punch and kick your stranger takes makes you flinch, but it only seems to spur him on until he’s practically rabid. Eventually, your beanpole savior is victorious, cackling like a madman as your would-be rapist runs off with his tail between his legs.

Breathing hard and sporting a rapidly purpling bruise on his cheek, your savior levers himself onto unsteady legs with a grunt. Wiping blood from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, he shouts after the hastily retreating stalker.

“Yeah, you better run, you piece of shit coward! If I ever catch you around here again, I’ll fuckin’ gut you like a goddamn pig and wear your entrails as a scarf!”

The adrenaline seems to drain from him all at once. Slowly, he turns back to you, and spits blood onto the pavement. Suddenly, he looks absolutely exhausted.

“You okay?” he asks, in a rough voice.

Your heart swells. This strange, gangly man just took a vicious beating for you and has the temerity to ask if you’re okay. Slowly, you approach him, fish out a tissue from the pack you keep in your pocket, and reach out to wipe the blood from his face. He flinches a little as you press on his bruise, but his eyes are gentle as they regard you.

“I’m okay, thanks to you.” Gently, you wipe him clean. “What’d you do that for?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t just sit back and let something like that happen, could I? The fuck kinda dickhead wouldn’t step in when someone was in trouble?” He tries to wrinkle his nose, but it just turns into a wince of pain. He clears his throat. “...Anyway, uh... it was no trouble, really.”

“You’d better let me take you home and clean you up,” you say quietly, ghosting a thumb over his lip.

His brow furrows a little and his eyes become wary. “You don’t gotta do that, I’m fine.”

“I know,” you reply, and give him a little smile. “I want to, though. What’s your name?”

“...Mary. Mary Goore.”

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.7

Of Monsters and Men

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)      x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2490

Summary: ‘Nat’ and the boys are still on the road and to kill the time more than anything, they talk monsters and most importantly, witches. 

You know what they say: speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Warnings: mentions of violence, monsters, supernatural elements, mentions of amnesia and interesting dreams and swearing (always)

Story masterlist

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“Hold onto me tight. Can’t have you falling off, doll…”

“You’re such a troublemaker-“

“I want to see you come undone first. Can I, doll?”

“Do I look unwilling, doll? I’m actually pretty eager to find out how long do you need to recover…”

“Eyes on me, darling-”

You jolted awake with a gasp for air, your eyes snapping open into sharp midday sun. It took you a second to realize where you were, what the low purr under your body meant, music on low volume and a male voice softly humming along.

You blinked, meeting Sam’s gaze as he turned his head to face you.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his features.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your cheeks at the memory of the dream. They were bits and pieces, sweet and hot, yet leaving dull ache in your chest in their wake. You were absolutely sure this was your consciousness recalling moments with your soulmate, but you were unable to make anything useful of them. It was like chasing ghosts – eh, actually, did ghosts exist? What was it like, chasing them? Never mind-

You were supposed to be a ghost, because apparently you had died.

Alright. Shake it. Snap out of those messy thoughts.

The more awake your body got, the more you realized your chest wasn’t the only thing that was tense and it wasn’t only your neck that nearly cramped.

“Yeah,” you muttered finally, while Sam’s eyes managed to get really worried, still on you. “Just… call of nature.”

In more than one ways. Your bladder might actually burst soon, but you couldn’t deny your arousal either. Gee. Why did it have to be that kind of dream you had? Why couldn’t you see your soulmate’s face clearly instead? Nope scratch that, his ID would be better, complete with his freaking address.

“Hold on for about half an hour, Nat. I’d like to stretch my legs anyway and Garth should be waiting for us.”

You smiled at Dean despite him being unable to see it, his eyes focused on the road. It was sweet of him. You might as well be sweet back.

“Thanks, Dean. And you can turn the volume up, if it was low just because of me,” you hummed, holding back a chuckle when his hand immediately moved to the radio.

“Thanks, Nat. Wanna tell us what that dream of yours was about? You seem a bit shaky,” he nudged, surprisingly gentle. You would expect such approach from Sam, but he only glanced at you, apparently wanting to know as well.

You sighed, wondering how to put it without sounding like a horny teenager.

“It’s… I think they’re like memories? But they don’t make any sense,” you said in the end, casting your glance down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, fingers interlacing and disjointing again. “It’s my soulmate, I know as much. Or, you know, I’m pretty sure. It’s nothing useful though.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam soothed, his voice genuinely regretful. You just shook your head, sending a sad smile his way.

“The only pattern is a… a pet-name, I guess.” Well, until now, it was just one. ‘Darling’ was new. “He keeps calling me ‘doll’.”

You didn’t know why you told them, you weren’t planning on it. Except they were so genuinely nice to you it hurt and you felt like honesty was the least you could give in return. Now, you could practically touch their surprise.

It was Dean who commented on it, but not in a malicious way, which you were eternally grateful for.  

“Doll, huh? Maybe he’s a mafioso. Sounds like something from an old movie. Heh, maybe you time-travelled too!” he speculated out loud and you only gulped, not as amused as you should be. Was that a thing? Time-travel?

“God, I hope not,” Sam whined, effectively startling you. So it was possible?

“Nah, I bet it’s just him being a gentleman, ya know, the old-fashioned kind of guy. After all, how could he not, having such a… swell dame for a soulmate?”

Both you and Sam eyes Dean with wary and confusion.

“Since when you’re an expert on war era slang?” Sam demanded, amused surprise lacing his voice.

“Simpler times, Sam. Simpler times. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. You laughed as well despite not quite understanding what it meant. You simply enjoyed the banter and teasing that was strengthening their brotherly love; you already caught up that much, that they loved each other greatly. How could they not? They were both absolutely amazing despite their differences.

People might find it strange for them to be so close at their age – not that you knew theirs precisely, or yours for that matter – but you thought it was endearing. If they killed monsters for living, their lives couldn’t be normal and conventional, could they? It spiked your interest once more.

“Alright. What can you tell me about what you do and how you get your money?”

“Not sure you wanna hear that, d-- now I have the nickname stuck in my head, dammit. It’s not a pretty chat, Nat. You sure?”

You nodded, but agreed out loud for the god measure. After all, Dean was still driving.

“Your choice. We hunt monsters. But let me tell you, humans are actually the worst… well, humans and witches…”

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Dean and Sam hadn’t even told half about the monsters that lurked in the shadows and you already felt overwhelmed, grateful when you reached Bedford and the older brother called his ID maker.

Garth was a nice guy, if a little overexcited and goofy.

He called you a madam, gave Sam a newest book by George R. R. Martin (who?), which seemed to excite the hunter greatly and Dean received a piece of apple pie. You couldn’t remember your life, but if you had, you were sure it still would have been Dean’s smile that was the brightest you had ever seen. Note to yourself; when repaying Sam and Dean, a pie and a book were necessities.

Your trio didn’t stop to chat with the man for long though – you needed to be on your way. Garth was apparently in the business of hunting, because he made a face way too similar to Sam’s at a mention of witches. You weren’t sure if you looked forward hearing about those; you guessed they weren’t wearing pointy hats and befriending cats.

The remaining hours to your destination flied; the brothers continued to educate you in monster food chain (people were usually the food, which you did not enjoy learning), briefing you on existence of things you could barely imagine. Also, they weren’t only friends with an angel, apparently – they were also on rather good terms with king of Hell.

“King of Hell?” you parroted, bewildered. What the h— heaven?!

“Yeah. Dean used to be bestie with him, too,” Sam quipped, half delighted at his brother’s annoyed face when sharing this fact, half bitter for pretty obvious reasons.

“Dude.”

“You keep the weirdest company,” you stated, your head buzzing with all the info you got. You grimaced when you realized that the company included you.

“We know,” Sam sighed, turning his tablet on. “But it’s not all bad. I mean, Garth, the guy you just met… he’s a werewolf and-“

“He’s a WEREWOLF?!” you yelped, causing the brothers jump in their seats and Dean jerk the steering wheel aside, throwing you all of balance.

“Christ, woman! Keep the volume low!” the driver spitted out as he returned to the correct lane, ignoring the honks of other cars. “I know, I know, shut up, I’m not drunk…”

“Sorry,” you blurted out on autopilot, your mind pre-occupied with the fact that the sweet dorky guy you had just met was a fucking werewolf.

It was Sam’s turn to apologize or he thought so. “My bad. I shouldn’t have just dropped that on you.”

“But he was so nice!”

“If you say so,” Dean assented reluctantly, voice dripping with doubt. You weren’t trying to figure out why he questioned such an obvious thing. It wasn’t your place. Not to mention you were still too astonished by the announcement.

Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway. We have two victims so far. Both are young women, Alicia Peters, 16 years old and Helen Sanders, 16 as well. They were apparently classmates, rather good students, but not friends. One of them was found three days ago, the other yesterday. They both sneaked away in secret, some other classmates claimed to them being… eh, giggly. They thought they had new boyfriends,” Sam summed up, while Dean nodded every now and then. “Why do you think witches? Could be dragons… which would be probably even worse.”

“…dragons? You’re joking.”

Dragons were real now?!

Dean ignored your incredulous remark. “Virgins, right? That’s what I thought. But check this out – according to the coroner, they had a puncture wound over their heart like from some very thin needle – or, more likely, a very thin straw, because their hearts were completely drained of blood.”

Your head was definitely spinning now, your stomach flipping over. You had been getting hungry before, but not so much anymore. You wanted to tune the conversation out, but it was inevitable to hear it. Your ears wouldn’t listen; it was like watching a train-wreck happen and being unable to draw your gaze away. Morbid curiosity played a part too.

God, you really were weird company.

“That’s disgusting,” Sam stated, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

You only hummed in agreement, trying to get the visual from your brain. Soulmate. Think of your soulmate and his sultry voice calling you doll. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shocked that it actually worked. His voice washed over you, cocooning you in a soft blanket.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed darkly, but Sam held out his hand all of sudden, causing both you and Dean freeze.

“What?”

“They found two young men this morning. John Doe One and Two for now. They were…” Sam wavered, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror. Now he was checking with you? You guessed your face was pale as a sheet of paper, but hey, it wasn’t like you couldn’t just try and cover your ears. You nodded at him encouragingly and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “…found in one bed, stabbed in the heart and… ugh, with their… tools ripped off.”

Dean winced, while you just blinked. Did he mean like… wow. Oh, wow. You weren’t sure how to react to that.

“There was a note. We apologize for ruining such pure lives of the sweetest kind and as a prove of our remorse, we present their families with-“ Sam faltered in his speech, gagging. “Yeah, alright. Apparently, the missing part of their bodies was found with the… note. No need to go into details.”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’d be pretty grateful if we stopped talking about that. What now, though? Do we believe this crap?”

“You could have an ally,” you quipped shyly, receiving Sam’s sigh in reply.

“Brutal one, but yes. We need to at least check it out.”

“Yeah, but we get a lunch before that. I need something to comfort me. You traumatized my love muscle, Sam. Do you have any-“

“Yeah, alright, just… stop right there,” Sam stopped his brother, as if shielding himself from TMI by holding out his palm against Dean. “Got it. We need to stop for a bite.”

You giggled, the sound interrupted by your stomach growling. When had you got your appetite back?

“I guess lady in the back agrees,” Dean hummed, grinning in Sam’s direction. You laughed when you came to conclusion that he enjoyed making his younger brother uncomfortable, Sam making a face back at him as he realized the same.

They seemed like a greater pair of siblings the longer you spent with them.

It only took several minutes to get to the town and find a place to eat; Dean seemed to have a talent for finding food, which you appreciated immensely. You hadn’t been eating much, ashamed of using the brothers like that, so you were hungrier than you would be willing to admit. You had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was beginning to notice, because his eyes were narrowed as you picked the cheapest thing on the menu that appeared edible.

“You’re not eating,” he pointed out bluntly the moment the waitress left.

You just gaped at being caught and so shamelessly called out. Dean’s gaze shifted to you and now you had two men glaring at you keeping you company in the boot.

“I’m… not hungry.”

“Your stomach said differently,” Dean reminded you with his eyebrow arched in challenge. You opened your mouth uselessly, the protest dying in your throat at the intensity of his bright green eyes. “If this is about money, get your head out of your ass, Nat. You need to eat.”

“But-“

“But nothing. We’re having a desert,” he shut you up effectively, not permitting any objections.

You sighed, guiltily merging with your seat. A menu was placed in front of you, Dean’s fingers pointing at it.

“Actually, you’re picking one right now.”

You wordlessly obeyed, defeated. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” you whispered apologetically and Sam just shook his head with a smile.

“We know. And I get it, you don’t want to impose and use us, but… we chose to help you. Try to accept it, alright?”

You only nodded, determined to at least find the best dessert. The corners of your lips quirked when you found it.

“Looks like we’re in for an apple pie,” you decided, smirking in Dean’s direction. His eyes lit up and you couldn’t but feel the warmth around your heart at that. You actually did that, made him smile. Maybe you weren’t the worst company in the world after all. “Unless you’re sick of it after-“

Dean’s hand snatched the menu away, shutting it close. “Shut you piehole, Nat.”

Sam laughed as they brought your food.

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You were just finishing your infamous dessert, when the brothers stiffened at the voice coming from behind their back, the other side of the boot.

You frowned, not finding anything strange about the female voice with British accent.

“Thank you, darling. It will be all,” the woman said politely.

The moment the waitress left, Sam and Dean stumbled from their seats and towards the other boot. The tension in their shoulders only grew and they let out a ridiculously synched irritated sigh, multiple emotions playing on their face; you caught annoyance and a bit of anger for sure.

“Rowena,” Sam greeted her in pretended politeness and you couldn’t but check the situation out. They didn’t seem to be happy about running into their acquaintance.

You got a glimpse of a redhead sipping at her tea delicately, her pinkie raised as she held her cup.

“Hello, boys.”

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Part 8

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I adore that woman, I swear. She’s so classy and sassy. 

Also, for those who haven’t seen SPN, I extended the guide at the end of chapter one - you’ll find ‘Chuck’ and ‘Rowena’ there ;)

Thank you for reading!

[dreamyjoons]

heartbreak trials // jjk

⇢ it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

Genre/warnings: angst, smut! roommate!au, sex talks, best friend & fwb!Jimin, very background Namjin, swearing, alcohol use & drunkenness, creepy/pushy guy at a bar, oral (m & f recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, a creampie thing (lmao sorry), overstimulation, snarking constantly I can’t stop it

Words: 13.8k

A/N: In celebration for Jungkook’s birthday, enjoy this baby. I hope you all like it. Thank you to the incredible underthejinfluence for the support, suggestions and letting me complain regularly lmao.

“I swear, one of these days I'm gonna kill him.”

You throw yourself over the arm of the couch, letting your head flop on Namjoon’s knee. You sigh and pout up at him, waiting for him to pay you attention.

He casually ignores you, thumbing through the book in his hand. Another louder sigh passes your lips. Namjoon rolls his eyes, hastily dropping the bookmark in his hand between the pages. Once the closed book sits neatly in his lap, he turns his unimpressed gaze on you.

“What’s he done now?”

“He brought someone else home last night. Which is fine” -noting Namjoon’s raised eyebrow- “but Jungkook always seems to pick the loud ones.”

“I see. But do you not think he’s getting back at you?”

You sit bolt upright and spin, fully focused on Namjoon. Sure, you and Jungkook had some weird… thing going on when it came to having hookups in the house. Sometimes it felt a little premeditated. But you didn’t hate each other enough to have that kind of rivalry. Not that you thought so, anyway.

“For what?”

“When you brought home that guy from work who yelled the whole time you both fu-”

“Yes, your point?” You rush, ignoring the heat creeping across your face.

“Kook had an exam the next day.” Namjoon shrugged, his fingers idly teasing the edge of his book.

“That? That was last year Joonie! he’s graduated already!” You yelp, throwing up your arms for good measure.

“Yeah, but you never apologised.” You splutter at his quiet words, a Jungkook-shaped rage beginning to simmer inside you.

“Did he apologise when that devil ex of his put her thong in my bedroom? Or when that other crazy bitch tried to punch a hole through our connected wall-“

“Oh Sana? I thought you’d like her.” Jungkook smirks, strolling into the living area.

You jolt as he swaggers into the room, messy hair falling into his eyes. Wearing yet another all black ensemble, he casually strides to the sofa and sits himself between you and Namjoon, shimmying in the spot for good measure.

“What do you think?” You snap, scooting as far away from the demon as possible.

“Oh, I'm not interrupting, am I?” He smirks at you, brown eyes glittering with mischief.

“Always-“

“You’re fine, Jungkook. Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you both.” Namjoon says gently, leaning forward to place his book on the table before turning to face you both. You and Jungkook both forcibly break your tense glare at each other to turn to Namjoon.

“I finally have a date for when I move in with Seokjin.” He smiles, his little dimple flashing on his face.

“Congrats, man!” Jungkook grins, slapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“That’s amazing, Joonie. I bet you’re both so excited.” You smile, warmth spreading through you. It had been a long time coming - two bean poles who annoy each other constantly but found each other made your heart swell.

“We can’t wait, but that leads me to something about here. Obviously this was originally my flat, so I’m gonna pass it to you both. But it’s listed under my master bedroom.” He stops, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “So you both need to decide between you who’s going to have my room.”

An uneasy glance passes between you and Jungkook, a chill descends upon the room.

Namjoon’s room was not only nearly the size of yours and Jungkook’s room combined, but it also had an ensuite bathroom. It was prime real estate, and there was no way you were going to pass that up.

“I’ll have it-”

“Me!”

You both shout before another deadly glare passes between you. His eyebrows knit as he stares at you, but you’re not intimidated. You never are by Jungkook. He was a bunny! And apparently he banged like one-

“No way Jungkook, I deserve it! I’ve had to listen to you one-stroke wonder for nearly two years now-“

“Not a chance, Y/N! If I have to listen to you fake another orgasm I swear-”

“Fake? Fake?!” You splutter, heat surging to your face as you gawp at the floppy-haired idiot.

“Oh please, I’ve had to listen to you enough to know when you’re putting it on, which sounds like it happens regularly.” He shrugs, flicking his hair out of his eyes before smirking over at you.

“What makes you an orgasm expert?” You scoff.

“Oh baby, I know how to give an orgasm or three.”

You splutter and try to play it off as a cough, but Jungkook grins triumphantly. Namjoon loudly clears his throat, shuffling to the edge of the couch to give you both a meaningful stare.

“I’ll be out of here by the end of next week, but the contract will be changed in just under a month.” Namjoon gets to his feet, tucking his book under his arm. “You both have until then to decide.”

You stare at each other, sizing the other one up.

“I don’t care who takes the room as long as nothing gets broken in the inevitable fight you both are gonna have. Now, goodnight.” He smiles, before ducking out of the room. You and Jungkook both sit in silence until you hear his door shut.

You’d known each other for a year or two - you’d moved in with Namjoon after graduating after seeing an ad for a room. Jungkook had moved in three months after, having needed a place for his final year of college. That had been almost a year ago, and things were a lot different.

It wasn’t that you didn’t get on - you did. Most of the time. But there had been this strange atmosphere between you which had resulted in a weird competition; namely who can have the most sexual partners. Or in Jungkook’s case, the loudest.

“Obviously we both want the room.” He states, and you force yourself not to roll your eyes so hard your retinas detach.

“Yeah.”

“So how about we come up with a fair way to battle it out?” He asks, his full attention on you.

“Like what?” You ask, but he merely shrugs, hiding behind his hair slightly.

“I dunno. But we need a fair competition, because neither of us are gonna with over an argument.”

“I mean, I probably would-”

“No. Let's do this somewhat fairly.” He asserts, raising an eyebrow at you. You huff, but finally nod.

“Fine, but I can veto it if it’s a stupid idea.” You counter, holding out a hand.

He reaches out and takes your hand in his, gripping it as you shake hands, finalizing your agreement. You both break apart, sinking into separate ends of the couch.

“It’s gonna be weird without Joon being here.” Jungkook says quietly, and you nod at his words.

“Who’s gonna burn all our food and break up our fights now?” You smile, a genuine ache seeping its way into your chest.

Jungkook lets out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair as he looks around the room. So much of Namjoon’s personality was in that place. The book titles with too many words strewn about the pace, the huge, earthy blankets laid over nearly every surface. The one bonsai he trusts you and Jungkook not to kill sitting proudly in the window. It was cosy, and completely Namjoon.

A silence settles over you, the air palpably thick.

You drag your eyes back to Jungkook, and find his eyes on you. They’re gentle but probing, like he’s trying to read your deepest thoughts. You nervously drag your lip between your teeth, heat flashes across your face as his eyes follow the motion.

And there it was. The deep ache in your stomach whenever you’re alone together, or when he creeps into your thoughts every day. You could never dwell on it, because you and Jungkook in any other context but roommates wasn’t something you could see. The risk of a broken heart is something you couldn’t handle, so you avoided it at all costs.

You push yourself to your feet, needing fresher air to fill your lungs. His bright eyes widen at your movements, following your every move.

You stare back at him, hair pushed back out of his face, mouth parted as he watches you, hands resting on his muscled thighs.

“Got work tomorrow, gonna get an early night rightokaybye-” you rush, darting around the couch and heading to your bedroom.

You shut the door and lean against it, tipping your head back against the wood. You take a deep breath and slip into autopilot, changing and climbing into bed, trying to clear your mind of Jungkook and his smile. And those thighs.

— —

Staggering through the front door, you kick your shoes off and slam your keys onto the little key rack Namjoon excitedly hung a month ago. You push the thought aside, not wanting to deal with the sadness of Joon moving out today.

Dragging your feet, you moan as you stumble into the kitchen and throw yourself on one of the island chairs, slumping into the counter.

“Fucking managers… ‘we need you to file these before you clock out’... yeah well file my fist into your face, asshats…” you mumble into the counter, the cool granite seeping into your forehead.

“Rough day?” A tinkling voice greets you, and you lift your heavy head to stare at Jungkook, half in the fridge with a banana milk in his hand, wiping some escaped liquid around his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“... have you been there the whole time?”

“Yeah. Work sucked, then?” He asks, closing the fridge and leaning on the counter, head in his hands as he looked at you. You blink stupidly at him, his big eyes sucking you in.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, it was crappy.” You rush, before slamming your head back down on the counter, letting the cool seep into your burning face.

This is why you prefered arguing with Jungkook. Fighting him was easy. Because when you’re not being snarky and insulting each other, he has the stars in his eyes when he talks to you and you become a stuttering mess.

“You need to blow off some steam.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you pick your head up to look at him.

“Yeah, by taking the bubbliest bath ever and sleeping until next January.”

“Nope, you know what I mean.” He winks, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Thanks, but no. I’m not in the mood.”

“Awh, don’t think you could get it?”

“Please. I can pull way more people than you, Jungkook.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself, and you focus on keeping your eyes fixed firmly in his face. You weren’t going to follow those gorgeous hands-

“Whatever. Keep dreaming.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Bet?”

“Yeah, say, one the one with the highest body count gets Namjoon’s bedroom?”

“I dunno Jungkook, that sounds like a lot of work. And shaving.”

“You haven’t got to shave. Or are you just looking for an excuse?” He smirks at you, eyebrows wagging.

“... how long would it have to be for?”

“Until we have to sign the contract for the room, right? Namjoon said less than a month, so let’s say… three weeks.”

You flick your eyes over him, weighing him up.

It would be a lie if you weren’t tempted. Both you and Jungkook had a … colourful sexual history, which seems especially ramped up with your unspoken competition over the last year. There was a chance you could win, but no one could resist Jungkook - you often wonder how you’ve lasted so long.

But then again, Namjoon’s room did have a shower with amazing water pressure.

“You’re on.” You grin, holding out your hands.

Jungkook reaches across the counter and takes your hand in his, shaking excitedly. He pulls back over the counter and gives you a bunny smile, eyes practically sparkling.

“Don’t we need some rules or something?” You ask, and his smile drops as he groans.

“No? It’s sex, there’s no rules.”

“Oh come on, stuff like using dating apps, and, I dunno, lying about our number.” You frown, waiting for his reaction.

“Why would I lie?” He asks, genuine concern crossing his face. A twinge of guilt settles in you, and you have to admit: Jungkook may be a lot of things, but he’s never been a liar.

“Fine, fine, I know you won’t. But we need to talk some things through.”

A fierce discussion and a lot of colourful words later, you both agree to some tentative terms for your competition.

“Okay, so. One, no dating or hook-up apps, we have to do this the old fashioned way. Two, we can’t interfere with each other when we’re trying to get laid-“

“Ugh, can you not say it like that?” You groan, sinking back into your chair.

“Okay - when we’re trying to bump uglies-“

“No-“

“Three, we can sleep with the same people, but more than once doesn’t count. Failing to do any of this will mean we forfeit.”

“Right. And once we’re done we note it down on…” you pause, getting to your feet and walk to the fridge.

You take off the magnetic white board and scrub it clean. You draw a line down the middle, and put your and Jungkook’s name on either side of the line.

“Namjoon’s gonna be pissed that you got rid of his cleaning rota.”

“Shut up. We tally it here.” You tap the board for emphasis.

“Done. So are we starting now?” He asks, but you shake your head. It wasn’t enough that work had worn you out, but now the exhaustion from the conversation and the task ahead of you was threatening to totally wipe you out.

“Nope, too tired. You’re not gonna have an advantage over me like that Jungkook. Tomorrow.” You assert, getting to your feet.

He stares at you for a moment, assessing. A soft look passes his face - a glimmer of something. But it vanishes instantly.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He says gently, his eyes fixed on you.

“I want to, Kook. I’m gonna win that bedroom and sing in my shower all the time. I’ve got this.” You grin. He watches you for a moment before his demeanour changes, slipping back to the bubbly Jungkook you’re so used to and grinning at you.

“Keep dreaming, Y/N.” He smiles, before picking up what’s left of his banana milk and chugging it. You roll your eyes and walk away, your bed calling your name.

“Good luck getting someone to sleep with you when you have banana breath. Night Jungkook.” You call over your shoulder.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You walk through your door and shut it behind you, finally letting yourself sag on your bed. You stare at the ceiling, the bet ticking through your brain.

It was probably dumb, but competition with Jungkook was always interesting, and it had been a while since you’d had some action. At least you could find someone to distract you, and get a nice bedroom out of it.

You wearily get to your feet, changing out of your work clothes and into pajamas. Then, after a second’s thought, you tidy your room just a little. If you’re gonna have company, you may as well be presentable.

Finally you drop into your bed, bone weary but mildly excited. Time to get up on the saddle, and show Jungkook who’s the real cowboy.

— —

Your blissful sleep is interrupted by a dull thudding, one that seemed to get louder and louder. You vaguely register it coming from the wall you share with Jungkook, but you were desperately trying to cling to the remaining tendrils of sleep. A grunt meets your ears, and you realise something wasn’t right. Groggily you open your eyes, the rude awakening souring your mood already.

“Jungkook! Fuck…” you hear a faint whine and you freeze.

You hear a few more thumps until reality hits you. Throwing yourself from your bed, you grab your phone and storm out to the kitchen. Namjoon sits at the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee calmly. Thankfully you couldn’t hear the smut from here, so you sink into the seat next to him, planting your forehead onto his shoulder.

“Take me with you to live with Jin, I beg of you.”

“You started this, Y/N. Never make a bet with Jungkook on anything! The boy will stop at nothing to win.” He sighs, placing his coffee down.

You sit bolt upright and glare at him suspiciously. He blushes a little, but he meets your gaze.

“How do you know about the bet?” You ask, forehead creased.

“I’m very smart, I tend to know things.”

“... Jungkook told you.”

“Yeah Jungkook told me.” He laughs. “He waited for me to get home and told me.”

“Why would he do that?” You frown.

“Oh, uh…” he flusters. “He- he just wanted to give me a heads up.”

“Okay… well whatever, I’m not gonna be beaten.” You mumble, picking up your phone and scroll through your recent messages.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Namjoon says under his breath, but you decidedly ignore him.

You find the number you’re looking for and shoot a quick text before locking your phone. You grin at Namjoon as you stand up, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it.

“Gotta go prep, have fun at wo-”

You're cut off by the door of Jungkook’s room opening, and you and Namjoon spin in unison. Out totters a relatively familiar girl, and you recognise her as one of Jungkook’s usual hookups. He walks her past you both to the door, his hand hovering in the small of her back as he leads her out. You move your gaze to Namjoon who looks between the both of you, frowning.

After a brief murmur, the front door shuts and Jungkook saunters back into the room, a small grin on his face. You flick your eyes up to him and see that he’s only wearing a pair of gym shorts, his hair messy and wild. Perspiration still clung to his bare chest, his hair slightly sticking to his forehead. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from him.

“Looks like I’m taking an early lead.” He shrugs, bunny teeth on show as he smiles. Your phone buzzes on the counter and you look over at it, a smirk lighting up your face as you look back to a curious Jungkook.

“Well, I think we'll be even before you’ve even got dressed, so don’t get too cocky.”

A groan cuts off his answer, and you both dart your gaze to Namjoon who has his head tilted back, eyes screwed shut.

“Please just… can you both make sure no one gets hurt if you’re actually going through with this?” He sighs, bringing his head back to glare at you both.

“Get hurt? Who’s gonna get hurt?” You ask, but your gut screams that you know. Deep down where you try to ignore, you know.

Jungkook flusters, settling to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes. Sighing again, Namjoon gets to his feet and dumps his cup into the sink before turning to stare at you both one last time.

“You know what I mean. Now, I’m going to work. Please don’t get your bodily fluids all over my apartment.” He tells you both sternly before walking away.

You and Jungkook look at each other for a moment before you buckle under his gaze, grabbing your phone and heading to the bathroom.

“We’re not gonna get hurt, are we?” Jungkook asks quietly, and you spin to face him.

“No- no, why would we? We’ve got no reason to.” You say awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. “As long as neither of us do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.” You finish with a forced smile, ignoring the voice in the back of your mind telling you that this was dangerously stupid already.

“You’re right. Yeah.” He nods, stepping back. He bumps into the stool behind him and flounders before regaining himself, giving you a small salute before he vanishes to his room.

You stare after him for a moment before you shake your head and walk to the shower.

Taking your time to shave and moisturise so that you were feeling yourself, you finally step out, wrap yourself in a towel and head back to your room. A quick check of your phone tells you he’s almost there, so you slip on a top and some shorts - it’s not like you’ll be wearing them long, anyway.

You faintly hear a knock at the door and you speed out to answer it.

Swinging open the door to see Jimin smiling at you, you can’t help but grin back.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiles, his eyes scrunched as he beams at you.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly.” You laugh, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the house and towards your bedroom.

“Well, you know I’m always keen to help you beat Jungkook at something.” He laughs as you shut your door behind him.

“That’s why I can always count on you.” You smirk, pressing him back so that he falls onto the bed. You straddle him, hands pressed gently to his chest. “And please, be as loud as possible.”

— —

“I’m gonna go pee. Then we can talk about your battle plan to defeat Jungkook.” Jimin says gently, smiling at you before he gets out of the bed and pulls on his boxers and jeans.

You wave at him and stretch out on the bed, smug at closing the gap already - and you’d only been awake for three hours.

You sit waiting for Jimin, keen to talk to him about the whole bet with Jungkook. But you waited and waited, until finally you got impatient and got up, throwing on a tee and shorts.

You walk out of your room to find Jimin in the kitchen, head thrown back with laughter as he talks to Jungkook. Both were shirtless, but you felt your face heat up when you tried to avoid staring at Jungkook. You approach them, eyebrows drawn together and an uneasy smile on your lips.

“Hey guys…”

“Oh, Y/N! You didn’t say Jimin was coming over.” Jungkook smiles, fixing you with a bubbly giggle as he watches you approach.

You shrug as you walk to the fridge and pick up the pen, putting your first tally on your scoreboard. You spin back to smile at Jungkook, a surge of excitement rushing through you. He swallows as he looks between you and Jimin, his bubbliness dulling a little.

“So, neck and neck, huh? Don’t expect it to last long.” You wink at him, before flicking your eyes to Jimin.

“Wanna go out tomorrow?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, ignoring Jungkook’s noise of exasperation.

“If you’re going out, I’m coming too!” He yelps.

“No way, not happening! I’m not having you cramp my style.”

“Cramp your style? What are you, sixty?” Jungkook snarks, causing Jimin to stifle a giggle into his hands.

“You’re gonna mess me up! No way.”

“Oh come on, if I do ‘mess you up’ then I’ll void the bet and that’s not gonna happen. So buckle up baby, we’re going out.” Jungkook leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his toned chest, challenging you to try and deny him again.

You look to Jimin and see that he’s set his puppy dog eyes on you. You huff, throwing your hands in the air, and Jungkook grins.

“This is gonna be fun.”

“Whatever nerd, we’ll see who’s gonna be having fun.” You snap, grabbing Jimin by the shoulders and pushing him back to your room before slamming your door shut.

“Chill out Y/N, I’m not gonna take your man.” Jimin giggles, stretching himself out on your bed.

“He’s not my man, you ass.” You hiss, picking his shirt off the floor and launching it at him.

“Well either way, I can’t wait to watch the train wreck happen tomorrow night.”

— —

Night and day passed too quickly.

Namjoon or Jin couldn’t be persuaded to go out with you, citing that they weren’t going to be around ‘childish games of romance’. You elected to ignore what they were trying to say, and simply took your frustrations out by stress texting Jimin all day.

But it couldn’t be held off any longer, and soon you found yourself pressed between sweaty bodies making jerky movements to loud music.

Jungkook had been relatively silent for the whole of your journey, only replying in solemn nods and prolonged staring.

Jimin -who was sick of both of you- ignored the pair of you, practically skipping his way through the club to the bar. He orders a round of shots, passes one to both of you and chucks his down his neck. You blow out your cheeks, forcing yourself to relax.

Jungkook being there wasn’t going to cost you Namjoon’s room. Keeping that in mind, you tip the liquid into your mouth, the burn rippling down your throat as you swallow.

Your eyes flick to Jungkook as he does the same, eyes fluttering shut and lips pulling tight as he forces down the shot.

You forcefully drag your eyes away from a spot of alcohol that escapes his mouth and creeps down his exposed throat, and focus on the crowd.

There were a lot of people in the small club, and your hopes at finding someone were high. Jungkook walks off, mumbling something about the bathroom, and you watch him leave. You turn to look at Jimin, a smile finally slipping onto your face.

“Feeling lucky?” He asks, noting your grin. You shrug your shoulders at him, a twinkle in your eye.

“As long as Jungkook stays out of my way, I’ll be fine.” Your voice is low, and you fiddle with the shot glass in your hand before gently placing it on the bartop.

“Why would he be an issue?” He winks, eyebrow raised.

“He just… gets in my view and I can’t concentrate because his stupid face is in my vision.”

“Sure, and it’s not because you -“

“Shut up, Jimin. I don’t know what you think but you’re wrong.” You snap, eyes narrowing. He simply laughs, holding up his hands in a surrender motion, before his eyes flick over your shoulder.

“Well whatever, I think you’re gonna have company in a minute.” He nods, and you follow his eyes to find a man down the bar looking in your direction.

He’s cute, kinda tall, a little beardy. You give him a shy smile, before turning back to Jimin and winking. He shakes his head, a small giggle passing his lips.

“Give me a signal if you need any help.” He whispers, watching the man walk towards you. You squeeze his arm gently, before turning back to rest on the bar.

After a mere moment, you feel a figure slide next to you, a faint air of expensive cologne filling your senses. You hide your smirk, electing to run a smoothing hand over your hair. The loud music thumps along with your heartbeat, the thrill of the chase lighting your veins on fire.

“Hey.” His deep voice filters in from beside you, and you turn your slightly head to face the man.

“Hi.”

“Would you like a drink?” He asks, bringing his mouth low by your ear.

“Depends if you’re buying or not.” You smirk, meeting his hazel eyes.

“If it means I get your company for the evening, it’s on me.” He tilts his head as he smirks at you, pulling a light laugh from your lips.

“Does that work on all the girls you try it on?”

“I don’t know - will it work on you?” He whispers, his cool breath brushing over the hair by your ear and down your neck.

You lick your lips, letting a hand rest on his arm as you bring you gaze level with his, mere inches away. You were already mentally checking off another mark on the scoreboard, causing a smirk to slip on your face.

Leaning into him and letting your eyes flutter shut, your lips are on the verge of grazing when he’s suddenly ripped out of your space. Your eyes fly open as you search around you, only to find Jungkook pushing the guy through the crowd and out of sight. Shock etches across your face, eyebrows rocketing up as you jaw hangs.

Jungkook stalks back to take the guy’s empty place, fury written across his face as he looks at you. His side is pressed against you in the busy bar but you take a dizzying step back, trying to uncloud your mind. Your stunned stillness fades, replaced by blind rage.

“Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck-“

“I know him, Y/N. He’s a complete asshole.” He fully faces you, bright eyes holding yours in a deadly stare.

“He doesn’t have to be a Nobel Peace Prize winner for me to sleep with him! You’re way out of line!” You shout and he winces at your tone, but he doesn’t falter.

“Trust me, it’s better if he’s not around. I’m trying to help-”

“Are you? It doesn’t look like that from here.” You snap, holding his gaze.

“Believe me, Y/N.” His voice is quiet, and for a moment the storm in your mind clears. But you can’t let him into your head like that, you won’t.

The crowd jostles around you, knocking into you and Jungkook as they try to get to the bar. You’re both pressed together, held in place by unaware figures. But you don’t bend, intent on letting him know how you feel.

His dark eyes examine your face, drawing his lip between his teeth as he lets your words sink under his skin. Your eyes dart about his face, unable to focus. The small freckle that sits just under his mouth, the flare of his nostrils, the way his teeth sink into his lip. It was all him - impossibly Jungkook, and hard to stay angry at. But you wanted to, you needed to.

There’s something electric about him when he looks at you like that. Breathing your air, painted in red and blue lights, surrounded by darkness. It’s heavenly - and too much.

“Stay out of my way, Kook.” Your voice is low, but he hears you loud and clear. With one last withering look, you step away from him and go to find Jimin, his eyes hot against your back.

You deliberate leaving the club completely, Jungkook fully ruining your mood. You can feel him working his way under your skin, and it alarms you that you don’t mind him being there. You shake your head, expelling those thoughts. You’ve got a bet to win, you tell yourself. It shouldn’t be that deep.

Finally, you find Jimin surrounded by a crowd as he dances. They’re cheering over the music, strobe lights illuminating the graceful moves the makes. He laughs as he moves, catching your eyes across the sea of bodies. You smile at him, but his head cocks and he ceases all movement, making a b-line for you. Some of the crowd complain, but he ignores them, stopping before you and placing his hands on your upper arms.

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyebrows creased and plush lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah, I’m fi-“

“Do I need to beat that guy up? Where’s Jungkook, we’ll grab him and-“

“No, it’s not the guy that was the problem, it’s Jungkook.” You murmur, eyes shooting away from Jimin.

You find yourself scanning the crowd for him, but not finding him anywhere. You ignore the small pang that hits your chest and instead turning your attention back to Jimin. He has a soft look on his face, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles in your arms.

“So you finally admit it?” He asks softly, barely audible over the music.

“Admit what?”

“... nothing. Come on, let’s get another drink and you can tell me about it.”

With a soft embrace, Jimin steers you to the bar. Pressing through the crowd, you let yourself lean against the wooden bartop, watching but not seeing.

Jimin’s served, and he slides two shots of something clear towards you. You look at him and raise an eyebrow, but he shrugs at you before throwing back his own. You drink one, then two. Wiping your mouth in the back of your hand, you look at him and smile weakly.

“Thanks.”

“So what happened?” He asks, and you take a steadying breath before relaying what went on with Jungkook.

Jimin is silent as you speak, weighing the value of each word. He’s quiet after you’ve finished talking, and you wonder for a minute if he even heard you. But he looks back at you with a sad smile, and suddenly you don’t feel so brave any more.

“You two don’t learn, do you?”  He sighs, shaking his head. Your eyebrows cross as you stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn't, letting the words hang in the air.

And you know. You know what he means, you know how you feel. But thinking any more of Jungkook will never be reciprocated, and ignoring your heart is better than having it broken.

But heartbreak follows you.

You cast your eyes back around the room again. You see someone flick their hair, and you know it’s him, you know it. But moving your eyes around him stops your heart.

Jungkook stands just off the end of the bar, whispering in the ear of a petite brunette. There no playful air about him like there usually was, no thrill of the chase. Determination ripples around him, no sense of ease. In a way, it felt personal.

You blink back a sting in your eyes, turning back to the bar and suck in a deep breath. Jimin looks over his shoulder, spotting what you had been fixated on. He looks back and lays a light hand on your shoulder, but it’s too much.

“Y/N-”

“Excuse me Jimin, I’ve got a bet to win.” You say in a low, dangerous voice, before slipping away from his grip and moving quickly towards the dancefloor.

You let yourself be distracted for a mere moment, letting nothing but music, people and darkness fill your senses. A coldness creeps through your system, your protection. You let your eyes flutter shut, forcing everything but that second away from you.

You’re bumped forwards, and you begin to trip over your feet when a small hand grips your arm and steadies you. You right yourself and turn, only to come face to face with a beautiful, tall blond woman. She looks at you gently, letting her eyes linger on your body.

“Sorry about that.” She smiles, letting her hand linger on your arm.

“Oh, no worries.” You smile at her. She steps away after a prolonged glance, and you bite your lip.

You take a quick look around, eyes immediately darting to where you knew Jungkook was. The girl's hands were pressed to his chest, giggling something excitably in his ear. His expression doesn’t change, but you watch as his hand slides over to her hips.

For once halting moment, his eyes find you in the crowd. It’s fleeting, but you share something that you can’t pin down. He looks pained, guilty.

But he doesn’t push her hands away, and his hand stays rooted to her hips.

You drag your eyes away, your decision for the evening settling in your chest. You briefly make eye contact with Jimin, an unending pity deep in his soulful eyes. You swallow thickly before turning back to the retreating woman, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Wanna dance?” You ask, fake smile slipping onto your lips.

“I’ve been dancing all night, I was gonna head home.” She smirks, and you school your face, another rejection threatening to slice through you.

“Oh-”

“But I could do with some company.” She winks, threading her fingers through yours.

You smile at her and let her lead you towards the bar exit. You look to Jimin, a sad expression on his features. You offer him a blank stare and a small wave, ignoring the flicker of concern in his face.

With an ache in your chest, you flick your eyes to Jungkook - only to meet his. He watches you get pulled by, examining the woman before looking at you. His mouth is parted, his normally sparkling eyes glazed over. The girl he’s with paws at his face, but he doesn't look away from you.

You’re the one to drag your eyes away, trying to erase how her hands looked over him in your mind.

The girl looks back at you and smiles, and you return it, your heart heavy. But you follow her, out of the bar, into a taxi and into her arms.

— —

The next week and a half was painless - purely through the power of ignorance.

You barely saw Jungkook. You spent an entire day with him at one point - but fortunately Namjoon had too many books and lots of furniture to move, so you were barely in each other's presence for long.

But Namjoon was gone, and the two of you were left to haunt the apartment like lonely spectres in his wake.

It wasn’t a total bust though - you’d managed to take the lead in your bet. You were two ahead of Jungkook with eight. Namjoon’s room was in your grasp, and you had planned to go out with Jimin again tonight.

You quietly eyed the whiteboard - Namjoon left it behind saying it had been ‘tainted’. You pull out a carton of juice and pour yourself a glass, trying to delay going into your room.

You knew Jungkook had someone over. You didn’t want to go to your room and hear them, and you wanted them to walk out and see you much less.

Instead you drain your glass and make a grab for your keys - but you had to go to your room and get them from your bag.

Steeling yourself, you make a break for it. You’re almost at your room when his door swings open, and you’re blindsided, your gut wrenching.

“Jeni?” You splutter.

She turns, dressed only in one of Jungkook’s oversized shirts. Her perfect blond hair fell into her precise bob, beautiful features pulled into a look of confusion and disdain.

She places a perfectly manicured hand on her hip whilst the other pulled Jungkook’s door shut. You glare at Jungkook’s ex, your head beating so hard you thought it would burst from your chest.

“What are you doing here?” You growl, letting malice seep into every word.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A spiteful laugh falls from her lips, eyes sizing you up.

“Come back to break his heart again? Or did you get lost on your way back to the swamp?” You snap. She laughs mirthlessly at you.

“Well, Kookie said you weren’t any different. Glad to see nothing’s changed.” You cringe at her nickname for him - it always sounded so cold and calculated when it came from her lips.

“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows creased.

Why was he talking about you - to the ex who tore his heart to shreds? You could remember nights where you’d stay up until 5AM to distract him from the pain he felt - as if you could absorb it for him. In some way, you did-

“Oh Y/N, dense as ever, and hopelessly in l-”

“Shut up Jeni. I know it uses up a lot of brain cells for you to form words, so you can just stop.”

You brush past her, making sure to knock her as you walk by. She squeaks at the impact, but you don’t feel anything but empty.

“It was good to see you. You’ll be seeing more of me soon enough.” You can hear the smile in her voice but you ignore her, bursting into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Pacing the room, your mind reels and your stomach churns.

Jeni being here had changed things. Jungkook was left shattered by her, why would he bring her back into his life? Even to win a bet, that was dumb.

But her being here was bringing to a head something you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself - how you truly felt about Jungkook.

Because you realised if she is here, you can’t be. Him sleeping with people was one thing, but a relationship, emotions and love with someone else? That wasn’t something you could watch again - it broke your heart enough the first time around.

Your plans to leave the house abandoned, you sit on your bed and pull out your headphones, placing them tightly in your ear before blasting the first song you could find.

When the roar of your headphones was the only thing to fill your senses, you lay back on your bed and curl on your side, letting the music take you some place that wasn’t here, and that didn’t hurt.

Only an hour or so later, you were rudely woken by someone shaking your shoulders.

Groggily you snapped the earbuds out of your ears, and rolled on your back to see a blurry Jimin standing above you.

“Hey.” He says gently, hand resting on your arm.

“Hey.” You whisper back, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

“You doing alright?” He asks softly, big doe eyes examining your face. You nod and sit up, letting the sleep work its way out of your system.  

“Come on, get dressed. We’re getting out of this damn apartment.” He orders, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. You didn’t argue - you didn’t want to.

“You’ve seen Jeni, then?” You ask, walking to your wardrobe and finding anything to pull on.

“Yeah. Stupid boy…” he sighs, the last part quiet but you hear it all the same.

You finish getting dressed on autopilot, throwing on a quick layer of light make-up before you're ready. Grabbing your purse and phone and slipping on your shoes, you nod at Jimin.

He offers you a small smile before taking your hand in his and leading you both out of your bedroom. He squeezes your hand lightly, and your heart swells at the support from your friend. He was a lighthouse through the fog of all the bullshit you felt.

You hear her voice in the kitchen and tense, but Jimin runs a soothing thumb across your knuckles, and you shudder in a breath.

Both of you walk past the kitchen and see Jungkook making coffee, a pained expression on his face as he half listens to Jeni speak. At the sound of you and Jimin walking by his head snaps up, bright eyes fixed on you.

You feel your face heat up as you make eye contact, but Jimin continues to pull you away. Jungkook’s eyes snap to your locked hands, before back to you, his lips parting.

“Where are you going?” Jeni asks, obviously annoyed at Jungkook’s distraction.

“Out.” Jimin snaps, pushing you to the door.

You open it and step out, heaving a heavy breath of air. Jimin shuts the door behind you and throws an easy arm around your shoulder.

“We haven’t got to go out if you don’t want. We can go for a walk or something.”

“No, no it’s okay. I need something loud. And alcohol. Definitely alcohol.” You sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, grateful for the support.

An hour later, you find yourself gulping down your sixth - seventh? - shot of the night, and your third glass of a bright blue liquid that was definitely strong but tasted too sweet for you to care.

The bar wasn’t too busy, it being a weeknight, but there was enough people there to keep it interesting.

Loud pop music filled the room, bouncing off the dark walls. You bopped along to the beat, the haze of drunkenness clouding your vision. You were numb, comfortably so.

Jimin had disappeared a little while ago, phone pressed to his ear - he said he was going to the bathroom, and for you to stay put. He’d been trying to tamper down your behaviour all evening, holding back too many shots and chasing off anyone who approached. But still you had managed to get a drink or two bought for you and gulped it down without him catching you in time. However you had gotten bored waiting and being babied, and drunkenly wandered off.

The bet still rattled around in your head, which caused you to flirt with everyone you came across. The still rational part of you screamed - your heart wasn’t in it, not any more. But your clouded brain wouldn’t see past it, and instead you let yourself be pressed against strangers, their hot breath rolling across your face as you tried your luck.

With your most recent attempt telling you that he’ll come find you later in the night, you gave him a sloppy wink before staggering away.

You press yourself against the bar, sloppily propping your head on your hand. The bartender places a small glass of water in front of you and you smile your thanks at him, pulling it to your lips and lightly sipping.  

The look in his eye catches you off guard - pity. Your smile falters, your drunken haze shattering around you. You gulp down the rest of the water and in a moment of clarity, realise you should find Jimin. You shouldn’t be here any more.

Your turn from the bar a little too fast, causing yourself to stumble. A pair of hands catch you, and prop you back up against the bar.

You look up at the man and thank him, and he smirks down at you. His brown choppy hair frames his face sharply, his lips drawn tightly into a smile.

“You heading somewhere in a hurry?” He asks, and you offer a polite smile.

“I’m- I’m” you pause to hiccup, “gonna find my friend. ‘Scuse me.”

“Woah, what’s the rush? I’m sure your friend will be here in a minute.” He takes hold of your wrist, pinning you in place. You try and snap your hand out of his hold, but his fingers are an iron grip.

“Let me g-go.”

“Don’t you wanna stay and chat? You’ve been hitting on everyone here, why not me babe?” He laughs, but his voice has an edge to it, an underlying bite.

“I’m going home… asshole. Getoffme-”

“Listen, slut-”

“Let go of me or I’ll scream.” You grind out, rage and fear bubbling in your chest. The man simply laughs, and you see red.

You dig your nails into his hand around your wrist, and he releases your hand with a grunt. You snap your hand away and begin to scramble from him, but he grabs your upper arm and slams you back against him.

“Isn’t this nice? Now-”

Just as suddenly as you’re pulled against the guy, you’re pulled away into someone’s chest.

“Jimin, I’ve got her!” The shout rumbles from the chest you’re against. You flick your eyes up to the owner of it, only to have the air sucked out of your lungs.

“Kook?” You whisper, his wide eyes meeting yours, a softness touching each corner of his face.

“Bro what the fu-” the man starts, snapping Jungkook gaze from you.

Jungkook wraps a protective arm around your waist, holding you to his side. Rage fills his face, his teeth gritted as he stares at the man.

“I’m not your ‘bro’. You’re disgusting.” Jungkook spits, steering you away from the guy.

You let out a breath, fingers gripping tightly into the material of his shirt. Jimin finally finds you, rushing to you and cupping your face in his hands. Jungkook tenses a little under you, but you don’t let him go.

Jungkook explains what just happened, and Jimin looks between the two of you and towards the man you were just with.

“Get her home, Jungkook. I’m going to have a little chat with our friend.” Jimin almost growls, letting his hands drop from your face.

“Be careful Jimin.” Jungkook offers quietly, but Jimin shakes his head.

“Just get her home.”

With a final nod, you’re walked out through the door of the bar and out into the darkened street. The wall of fresh air makes your head spin, and you cling to Jungkook for support.

You let him lead you down the street as he waits for an uber, his arms still snugly around your middle.  

“Why are you here, Kook?” You slur, lifting your lidded eyes to his face. His eyes stay firmly glued to his phone.

“Jimin called. Said you needed me, so here I am.”

“Yeah, but why are you here?”

His eyes flicker to you just for a second, a glimmer of something flashing across his wide eyes.

“Because… I care about you. Even if you think I don't. And if I left you to fend for yourself, Namjoon would castrate me.”

“I-I can handle myself. I don’t need you… stepping in like some knight in shining armour-”

“I know.” He murmurs, interrupting your rambling tirade. “But I want to.”

Your words die in your throat as you look at him. He’s aggressively avoiding your eyes, instead searching the roads.

It’s overwhelming, the need to tell him the depth of your feelings. You know it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins, but it’s deeper than that. And sober you would hate the drunken delivery, but you need to lighten your heart, your soul.

“Kook-“

You’re stopped by a car pulling up beside you. Jungkook confirms with the driver through the window about his pick up before reaches for the door, helping you in.

You reluctantly disentangle from him and climb clumsily into the car. Jungkook shuts the door behind you, and appears a moment later getting into the other side. As soon as the door shuts the car moves away, your mind spinning.

The ride’s quiet, but your eyes never leave him. You can't tell if it's the alcohol or not, but you can't stop. After a moment, he turns his gaze on to you, his lip between his teeth.  

“Why don’t you call me that more often?”

“... what?”

“Kook.” He says softly, and you feel your heart begin to thump wildly in your chest.

“I dunno, it just happens.” You shrug, but the weight of his question sits on your chest. He was your Kook, you wanted to scream. Not just Jungkook. Kook.

The rest of the ride is quiet. And despite all your anger and hurt, you slide against him and rest your head on his shoulder, lacing your fingers with his. You couldn’t stop yourself, but it felt right through your haze.

Too soon, the car pulls in front of your apartment block. Jungkook throws open the door and slides out, but keeps his hand clasped with yours. You follow him out on wobbly feet and close the door behind you.

You fight to keep your mind blank as he leads you back up to your apartment, only pausing to unlock your front door.

“Is, uh… is that devil bitch still here?” You whisper, pressing to Jungkook’s side. He nearly drops his keys as he looks at you, eyes wide.

“Jeni? No, no. She finally left when Jimin called.” He sighed, at last getting the door open.

You stumble in, momentarily forgetting your hands were linked and dragging Jungkook with you.

He says nothing, simply kicking the door shut behind him as you head straight for the sofa, pulling him down beside you.

The only light came from the windows, dewy street lights strobing the room. Shadows fall across his face, soft, and so close.

His lips part as he watches you, eyes wide. You don’t know how long you sit there for, but it felt like an eternity - and it was perfect. You could spend a lifetime looking at him, seeing him.

He forces his mouth shut and swallows before disentangling your hands. You make a noise of protest, but he holds a finger up.

He hurries to his feet and disappears, only to emerge a moment later, a glass of water in his hands. He offers it to you and you accept gratefully, gulping the cool liquid down.

You place the glass carefully back on the table before settling back onto the chair, head falling to his shoulder.

It couldn’t be helped - the neediness that was trying to claw its way from your chest. You wanted nothing more than for him to consume you, to hold you, to kiss you. It felt so amplified in the moment.

But you couldn’t - how could you? You had to live together, you shared the same friends. Would he ever feel the same? You weren’t like his exes, you weren’t like anything he knew.

You feel his weight shift, and your heart thuds as he leans his head on yours, fingers lacing once again.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, his voice so soft you barely hear it above the roaring in your head.

“I… yeah. Tired.” You mentally kick yourself, chickening out of your true feeling and leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You should go to bed-“

“No! I mean… just a minute longer. S’nice.” You murmur, tracing your thumb across his pink knuckles. He lets out a soft sigh, and you feel him relax beneath you.  

You realise as you drift off that you can’t do it - the bet, Jeni, any of it. It was heading to something you didn’t want, a trial you weren't prepared to face.

“Stupid.” You mumble aloud. Jungkook hums at you but you don’t hear as you quickly drift off, the heat radiating from him to you being the only thing that matters.

— —

There was only four days of the bet left.

When you had woken the morning after your night out, you were on the couch alone. You were in the apartment alone. You shifted, only to find a blanket draped over you and the blinds pulled to block out any unwanted light in your fragile state. A fresh glass of water sat on the small coffee table in front of you, and you swallow thickly.

You remembered the night in gory detail, but the essence remained true enough - the bet was over for you. You couldn’t do it anymore, no bedroom was worth it.

And so the next few days had passed uneventfully, slowly and totally alone. You hadn’t seen Jungkook at all since that night, but a glance at the board on the fridge told you that he hadn’t stopped the bet - in fact he’d overtaken you. The wonky lines under his name sliced through you, a chill settling in your chest.

It had begun to feel claustrophobic in the apartment, a constant pressing on your mind and heart. Even though you hadn’t seen Jungkook, knowing he was around was enough. You barely left your room, conscious about running into him.

You waited until he had left for work before you emerged from your room, keen on devouring anything in your path. You’re midway through rummaging in the fridge when a knock raps quickly at your door.

You hesitate for a moment, waiting to see if they would leave. When the knocking continues, however, you decide to answer. Scraping your hair back neatly as you approach the door, you swing it open-

Only to be met with Jeni.

“What?”

“Charming. Is Kookie here? He’s not replying to my texts or calls.”

“Work.” You sigh, ignoring the way she waves her expensive phone inches from your face.

“Hm. Well, maybe I’ll wait for him to come back- we’re talking again, you know.” She smirks at you, smugness radiating off of her as her eyes scan your face for the slightest hint of weakness.

You let nothing slip despite the punch you feel in your gut. You swallow, trying to wet your drying throat.

“Oh really? I didn’t know gargoyles were able to converse. Congrats for your species.” You say, the fakest smile you could mister plastered on your face.

“You’re just jealous, Y/N. It’s obvious.”

“Are you done? I’m bored of this conversation.” You snap, leaning awkwardly against the door.

“You know what, I will wait for Koo-“

“Yeah, I’m gonna be late, I left my keycard at home- oh.” Comes a voice from down the corridor, and you lean out to see Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his eyes rapidly flicking between you and Jeni. He had his phone pressed to his ear, dressed impeccably in his suit and tie, perfectly pressed trousers tailored to his figure. You’d seen him in what he wears for work many times, but it never failed to knock the breath from your lungs.

“Kookie!” Jeni squeaks, fixing him with a wide smile.

“I’ll be in when I can. Bye.” He deadpans into his phone, not waiting for a reply before he ends the call and pockets the device. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls-”

“Because I told you I wasn’t going to.” Jungkook’s voice is low, dangerously low, but his eyes are deadlier.

“Jungkook, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry you’ve misunderstood me again Jeni, but I told you from the start that nothing would happen between us again. I won’t let you hurt me a second time around.”

The stunned expression on her face is almost laughable, but you do feel a slight tinge of pity for her. It doesn’t last long though. She pulls her expression into a scowl, sneering at him. She casts a sharp glance at you before glaring back at him.

“Whatever Kookie. You’ll come crawling back to me, they always do. Let me know how this all works out.” a spiteful laugh pulls from her lips, flicking a finger between you and Jungkook.

Your eyebrows shoot up as she walks away, letting her hand trace across his bicep as she walks by. You watch the strain on his face as he suppresses a shiver, refusing to move until she was finally gone.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softened as he looks at you. You nod, unable to find your voice.

Panic flushes through you as you step back, ducking back through the door and into the apartment. The gentleness that had crept into his face when he looked at you was too much, it was what you were trying to hide from. You were nearly at your room when his voice hits you, deep, and pained.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You breathe in deeply, steeling yourself. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Jungkook had never liked confrontation, so you were banking on him ignoring the tensions that hangs in the air. You just wanted enough time to forget. To get over him.

“No, I haven-”

“Yes you have, Y/N. What have I done?”

You didn’t want to look back at him. You couldn’t bear to see the galaxy in his eyes. But he deserved a reason. And maybe, finally, once he knew you could breathe a little. There was no glimmer of hope that he’d return the feelings, but at least you could get some space. But getting that would hurt too.

What a fucking mess.

Slowly, you turn on your heels and walk back to the kitchen to meet him. He stands in the doorway, eyes fixed on you. You take a steadying breath, stamping down the fear that begins to rise in your throat.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“There must be something. I don’t want to upset you, Y/N. Talk to me.” He takes a step towards you but you take a step back.

“It’s me, Kook.”

“What? Y/N I’m confu-”

“I like you. Okay? I really like you. Fuck, I don’t want to say the ‘L’ word but...I can’t do it any more.” Your voice shakes and your eyes sting, but you hold strong. His eyes widen as he drags his eyes away from you, and appealing to the dark irony within you, his eyes fix on your scoreboard sitting glaringly on the fridge.

There were your words, your heart, head and hopes all laid out for him.

But he just stares at you. Silently, suffocatingly. Time stretched, and the longer it went on, the blacker your heart felt.

“Jungkook?”

Nothing.

“Please?” You croak, your voice thick.

“Y/N. I don’t know what to say.”

“Spare my feelings, Kook. Just say something.”

His eyes finally meet yours. They’re wide, tainted with a softness that made your chest hurt.

“The ‘L’ word?” He asks, eyebrows pulled together, fingers nervously twitching by his side.

“Love, Jungkook. I love…” But you can’t finish the sentence - not with the way he’s looking at you.

“Why do you love me?” he takes another step forward, eyes desperately searching for an answer in your face.

“I-I don’t know. It just crept up on me. I can’t stop. Believe me, I would if I could.”

“But- but why would you want to?” You frown at him. His words come from a much more innocent place than you imagined, but it stirred up so many feelings inside of you. You chose to focus on anger.

“Because I can’t watch you love other people that aren’t me, Kook. I can’t have my heart broken any more. I don’t want to hurt.”

He steps forward, hand reaching out to hold yours. He fills your senses, and you can’t think straight. Everything becomes him, and as much as you don’t want him to leave, he’s too much.

You step back from him, letting your hand slip from his. His mouth parts as he watches you, the lost expression you’re so used to creeping back onto his face.

“I- I can’t. You’re everything, Jungkook. I can’t let you break my heart again, watching you fall for people who I can’t be.” You walk back slowly, eyes flicking everywhere but him. “I’m gonna go stay with Joon and Jin, and find somewhere else to live-”

“Y/N-”

“It’ll be better for both of us-”

“Y/N!”

“Kook?!”

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

His eyes are wide, but determination seeps through him, his unending need to see things through permeating his very being.

“I- what?” You blurt.

He strides the distance between you in a few easy steps, his hands finding your face before he crashes his lips onto yours, desperate for you to understand just how he feels.

You tense under him, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest you’re sure he could hear it.

But your body lets him in, finally, totally and completely. Your hands knot around his neck, yout eyes fluttering shut as you finally give in to your heart.

His hands gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, fiercely parallelled by how hard he pressed his lips on yours, small sighs escaping him.

You’re the first to pull back, your arms still pressed against his neck as you explored his face, freely and unashamed. His thumbs drag across your cheek, the universe swimming around you both.

“I… may ‘L’ word you too.” He whispers, a goofy bunny smile sliding onto his face. He tucks his face into his chest, almost as if he was trying to hide.

All the pain and confusion seemed to melt at his words. The weeks, the months, you spent aching for something you didn’t know.

“You do? But what about Jeni?” You ask, and his smile turns sheepish as he looks up at you.

“Oh..uh, yeah. I kinda, was a little, maybe bitter. Jealous. Possibly.” A blush creeps along his face, and it unfurls something hot in the pit of your stomach.

“Bitter about what?” You raise an eyebrow, and his next words are barely above a rushed whisper.

“ParkJimin-”

“What?

“Park Jimin!” He yelps, before hiding his face in your arms.

“Jimin? What’s he got- oh. You were jealous of me and Jimin? Why?”

“Look, I know it’s dumb-”

“It is, yeah.”

“-but I couldn’t help it. You two had some… thing, and you hang out all the time. I just… got caught up in it and the bet. Knowing you’d been with him first and had slept with more than me… it just got to my head.”

“But Jeni…”

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. But she was here, and all I could think about was you.”

The admission stunned you, your jaw dropping.

“So why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Why didn’t you?” He asks quickly, and you feet heat creep across your face.

“Okay, touché. We’re both stupid.”

“Yeah. But not any more.” A smile slides on to his lips, and you mirror him.

“I doubt that.”

He chuckles as he looks at you, bright eyes meeting yours. He brings you forward once again, pressing his lips to yours. It’s softer this time, slower. Something that had been worth waiting for.

You pull back from him, placing your hands on his chest and push him back before you fall in too deep.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” You ask, your voice croaking.

His eyebrows knit as he looks at you, kiss-reddened lips pulled into a pout. But then an easy smile slips onto his face. It shines so bright it felt like you’d been living in shadows your whole life.

“I’ve waited long enough for this. They can have a day without me.”

You smirk, the fire inside you burning as you finally, finally have Jungkook where you wanted him. And you weren’t going to pass this up, not for anything ever again.

You back him against the wall to kiss along his angular jaw and down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly at your ministrations.

You slide the jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before you start to undo the buttons on his shirt.

You remove your lips from his neck to watch the shirt slip from his body, the fine fabric rippling off his supple skin. You let your finger drag across his bare chest, excitement bubbling in your chest at finally being able to touch him.  

Meeting his eyes you let one hand slip to his belt, slowly unbuckling it. You let your other hand slip into his pocket, pulling out his phone and handing it to him.

“Call your office.”

He takes the phone tentatively from you, confusion crossing his face. But he does as he’s told, scrolling through his call history, eyes fixed on you.

You wait patiently for his call to go through, your fingers subtly undoing the button on his trousers. Finally his call gets picked up, and you prepare to spring into action.

“Oh hey, it’s Jungkook.”

At his words you rip his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, take his girthy cock in your hand stroke him quickly to his full hardness. Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head, jaw hanging open as he watches you.  

Y-yea I’m not, oh go-“ he slams his mouth shut, taking a steadying breath as your hand twists around his tip.

“I’m not gonna make it in!” He rushes, heaving a relieved breath.

You can hear them ask why, and hiding your smirk, you wait for him to start replying.

“Oh, uh, my apartment, it’s-“

You take him in your mouth as far as you can, lips wrapping around his cock and pressing your tongue against his underside, dragging off slowly with a pop before taking him again.

“Fuc- f - flooded! It’s flooded. Shit.” He pants, his free hand weaving into your hair as he stares down at you, bunny teeth sunk into his lip.

You twist your hand around his base and you bob up and down on his cock, heady at the precum that oozes into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m f-f-fine. Gotta go!” He yells down the phone before ending the call and throwing it at the kitchen counter.

He lets out a juddering moan, letting both his hands knot into your hair.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He pants, hips rolling off the wall.  

You hum onto his cock, swirling your tongue around him. With each swipe, his hands on your hair pull tighter, the tingling in your scalp that sets you on fire.

You feel him throb in your mouth, and despite the tears that spring to your eyes each time his hips stutter him further down your throat, you can’t take your eyes off him. Breathless, wide eyes watching you take him in, bare chest rapidly rising and falling.

He cries out, quickly but carefully sliding you off his length, the tip oozy and red.

“Not yet. Not yet.” He croaks, before pulling you to your feet.

He walks you backwards into your kitchen counter, before turning you and pinning you against the cool granite.

He leans over you, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he slides his hands down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” He breathes in your ear, and you shiver beneath him.

“You better get on with it.” You murmur, circling your ass into his crotch.

He groans, and furiously yanks down your track pants and panties. He stands back from you to examine you as you sit there, totally exposed to him.

“Kook…” you groan, the cool air meeting your soaking slit.

He says nothing, and you can’t feel him around you. Confusion creeping in, you move to turn around when you feel his tongue lick from your clit all the way along your dripping core.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry - was admiring the view.”

You squeal as your fingers clench on the counter, his hands moving to grab your ass cheeks. His fingers knead in as he works his tongue, catching just the edge of your clit before he swipes up. He’s perched behind you, on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. The reality of it all makes your face heat, so you lay it back on the counter to cool off.

He only kitten licks, never enough pressure to make your eyes roll back but too good to stop. A light suck on your clit, a fast flick all the way up to you asshole, never anything with substance. Every time you try to roll your hips back for more friction his hands would hold you down, pinned and bent over the counter.

“That feel good baby?” There was a hint of genuineness in his voice, vulnerability that made your heart quiver. And your-

“Jungkook…” you moan, toes curling as he blows cool air across your dripping slit. You were too turned on for his games.

“Not’ Jungkook’.” He whispers, his hand sliding down to run a feather light touch over your throbbing core.

“Wh… what?” It’s more of a moan than a question, but he delivers a light slap across your pussy and you yelp in surprise.

“Call me the other name. The one I like.”

Another quick kitten lick has your hips rolling, the teasing pushing you too far.

“Brat.” Another slap, this time a little harder.

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t hear you properly.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and as much as you want to turn around and fight him, you want his mouth on you so much more.

“Kook, just eat my fucking pussy already.” You growl. He gives you a small giggle before he obeys.

He begins to eat you out like a man starved, licking fat strips up your length and rolling his tongue across your clit. He groans as he works, fingers kneading into your ass cheeks as he tastes you.

You were practically dripping, Jungkook’s tongue expertly hitting your clit in every way to make you moan.  

He ghosts a finger across your ass, bringing it to your clit to replace his mouth. His mouth moves higher, moving to press just inside your walls. A cry leaves your lips, his finger coating with your wetness they swipe quicker and quicker over your clit.

The tip of his tongue impales you, his moans vibrating you and sending your mind reeling. Your clit throbs beneath his touch, sending you hurtling to your orgasm.

“Jungkook, fuck…”

“Hmm?” He hums, and you groan at his petulance.

“Sorry… brat.” You smirk, only to have him fully pull away at you just as you were at your peak. The absence makes you ache with need, whiney and desperate.

“Jungkook!”

Another slap lands on your pussy and you squeal, the heat of his hand leaving you dripping as the cool air rushed in to replace it.

“Who’s the brat now?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Kook, please!” you shout.

With an incredibly unsubtle laugh, his fingers fly back to your clit, circling faster than before. His tongue seeks you out, pushing inside and letting your wetness coat him.

A cry escapes you as you begin to cum, twitching and bent over the countertop. Jungkook coaxes you through it, whimpers erupting from his throat. He pulls away from you once your gyrating stops, hand gently tracing along your sensitive slit.

On shaky legs he turns you, smiling at your flushed expression and blown out eyes. His eyes scrunch as he pulls you in for a kiss, quick and sloppy, the taste of you fresh in his tongue.

With gentle hands, he hoists you from your ass, settling you on the counter. He comes back to kiss you again, body pressed against you. And despite how tender he was being and how it made your heart clench in your chest, you needed him.

Sliding your hand between your bodies, you take a hold of his cock and begin to rub him up and down your wet slit. His face scrunches, the feeling of you coating him rocking him to his core.

He grabs hold of your hip and places a hand over yours so that you begin to guide him inside of you together. He pushes in slow, the drag of his girthy length inside you sends your head flying back. He frowns as she concentrates, finally bottoming out inside you.

He pulls slowly back out before driving home, the sensation making you both moan.

Pure euphoria is written across his face, an infectious happiness that you find yourself wanting to bask in forever.

You move to meet him, the cool surface beneath you biting into your hot skin. His fingers knit into the bottom of your shirt before tugging at it, pulling it up and off you, His eyes shoot to your bare chest, a groan leaving his lips.

He surges forward, lips latching to your nipple, but his hips never missing a beat as he thrusts deeply into you. A guttural moan of his name leaves your lips.

His tongue swirls over your stiff nipple, the bud aching under his touch. You lean back against the counter, toes curling as you wrap your legs around him.

He’s pushed up on his toes, trying other angles to be able to reach inside you properly without leaving your chest, but he struggles. A whine leaves him as he slides off your breast with a pop, his fingers pressed against your back.

“What’s the matter Kook,” you moan, blurry eyes focusing on him as he drags back out of you. “Can’t reach me?”

A shadow passes his face, a challenge he can’t refuse. Gripping you around the waist, he slides you off the counter, still fully seated inside you.

With your legs wrapped around him, he carries you to the sofa, a smirk on his face. Lowering you both down, his eyes fix back on yours, pressing you into the couch beneath him. With a quick peck, he’s pulling back out of you again and pushing back in, his hips picking back up speed as he pounds you into the sofa.

You wrap your legs around him for support, his forehead coming to rest on yours. You wind your fingers in his hair, holding onto the strands for stability as Jungkook rocks into you. His brow creases in concentration, small gasps and murmurs falling from his lips.

He hits your soft spot inside of you with the drag of his cock and your vision goes blurry. Your fingers tighten in his hair, the pressure making him hiss.

In the blink of an eye he takes hold of your wrists and pins them above your head and you whine, a smirk clear on his face.

“What’s the matter, Y/N, can’t handle it?”

You gasp, rolling your hips particularly viciously at him and clenching as hard as you can. His hips stutter for a moment as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, catching his breath.

“Do that again and this is gonna be over very quick.” he pants, and a wave of pride fills you.

“What, this?” You whisper into his ear, rolling your hips and clenching down again on his cock that sat deep inside you.

He picks his head up and kisses your roughly, fingers digging into your wrists. Your hips still, Jungkook sat inside while you enjoy the moment for what it is. He finally releases you and smiles, sparkling eyes and bunny teeth. And all yours.

His hips begin to move again, working you both back towards the fast pace he drilled into you before. You hook your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer to you with every thrust.

He collects both of your wrists in one hand above his head and brings his hand down your arm, fingertips tracing along your skin to your face. He thumbs over your jaw before bringing his hand down to your throat, fingertips ghosting on the delicate skin there.

You suck in a deep breath, eyes latching on his above you, perspiration sticking his hair to his forehead as he smirks down at you.

His hand slides off your throat, and trails down your body to reach between your legs - but not before stopping for a light flick of your nipple on the way down. His finger drag across your clit drawing a moan from you. Your hands twitched in his grip, desperate to feel him. Your hips begin to roll, The pressure inside you mounting.

“Kook, close…”

“Let go for me baby.” He whispers, before pressing his lips against yours.

You manage to snap one of your wrists from his grip, and bring your hand down to twist your fingers in his hair, kissing him back deeply.

A few more circles of your clit and you come undone, Your body juddering beneath Jungkook’s strokes as you see stars. You clench uncontrollably on him, the motion tipping Jungkook over the edge with you.

He cries out against your lips, hips stuttering as he comes inside you. You both ride the sensation out until he lets himself collapse on you, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

He takes a moment for his hips to stop their ministrations, his hot breath fanning against your chest. Finally he lifts his head up and smiles down at you, his nose scrunching at the motion. You smile back at him, totally lost in his eyes.

Sitting back, he pulls himself out of you, stopping to watch his cum drip out of your pussy. Entranced, he runs his fingers along your sensitive clit, your body twitching under his touch.

Gathering up some of the spill, Jungkook slides a finger inside you, pushing it back in.

You immediately clench down on his fingers, your core oversensitive but still completely responsive to him. His fingers build up speed, jackhammering his come back inside of you, his fingers crooked so that they brushed your g- spot with each move.

“Kook, my god!” you yelp, hands curling into the cushions beneath you. Your hips gyrate at the pressure. Despite the sensitivity and the sting, the waves of pleasure that washed through you couldn’t be stopped.

“What was that?” He snarks, before flicking his finger over your clit at lightning speed.

Your orgasm breaks over you, your hips thrusting off the chair as his fingers work, a strangled cry escaping your throat. He only stops when your tired body begins to slow, sliding his fingers out with a smirk on his face.

Once your unfocused eyes finally zero in on his he smiles at you before sticking his finger in his mouth, sucking them clean. A low moan emits from your throat.

“Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” He mumbles, taking your hand and pulling you up. He gently wraps an arm around your waist and flops back on the couch, settling you on his chest.

You sit in silence for just a moment, letting the reality settle into your skin. Finally you rest your chin on his chest, and stare up at him with a smile on your face.

“I told you I could give you an orgasm or three.” He smirks and your sigh, planting your face into his skin. He laughs, the light rumble from his chest shaking you, squeezing your heart tighter.

“You’re the worst. I don’t know why I like you.”

“Well I know why I like you.” He whispers, and you pick your head back up to look at him, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

A small smile slips onto your face, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you stare up at him. You bring your hand to brush over his jaw, before stretching up and pressing your lips softly against his own.

You release him and open your eyes, his bright eyes fixed on yours. His hand moves to rest in your hair, the strands woven around his fingers.

“So, do I get Namjoon’s room?”

“Kook! No way-”

“Come on, baby. I kinda did win!”

“You can’t ‘baby’ me! I was in the lead and gave up. If I kept on pace then I definitely would have won.”

“Not fair.” He huffs, but a small smirk turns the corner of his mouth. “How about another bet? First to cum wins.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting your hand smooth down from his jaw to trace across his chest.

“Screw it, be prepared to lose..”

He smiles, leaning forward and pressing his smiling lips against yours. He pulls back to press his forehead against yours, nose scrunched.

“If I’m still yours after, then this is one competition I don’t mind losing.” His whispered words clench in your chest and you giggle, despite yourself.

“You will be, Kook. But I’m still gonna win.”

[lml55nsfw]

Grim and Cace get a bit funky

Grim was training with Cace, they two were still evenly matched. She still had amazing technique and durability. Even higher than an average troll, Grim while not as durable still had the creativity of a human and still came with new ways to use his Devil Eye's. After about a few hours of doing so they both stopped went to get a drink. They two were the woods so the tree's could block out the sun, as well as the acid rain. Either way Cace got some water.

Cace: Oh I got to go to the bathroom real quick Cace: Can you go real quick Grim: Says the one who wears nothing Cace: What you want to watch Grim: uh no.

Grim turned around and then Cace began to her thing. Afterwards Grim came back to an interesting sight. She was fingering herself with the fingers that lie under her feather. Which was difficult as with the placement of the fingers. Grim sighed he forgot that her kind does sex similar to humans, though there were biological differences between the two species. He went and said

Grim: you need help Cace: what do you think -_- Grim: you sure? Cace: please, kinda in heat

She said blushing pastel red (that was a Blackring Crow's Blood Color) and then spread her legs. Her shaft wall was gone, she probably removed it in case she needed it.

Cace: Also it's my safe day so I'm good Cace: We can train afterward ok Grim: right...

Grim unzipped and his 1 foot dick came out. Which caught Cace off guard by it's girth, but she went to it none the less and tried to suck it but it was too big, and she'd need to unhinge her jaw to even get the tip in. So that was out of the option. Not to mention Blackring Crow's ass was way more tight than any species she knew, so unless she wants to be unable to walk for a week she would need to do her one hole.

Cace: hmmm... Grim your going to have to do my "nook" Grim: wait what? Cace: I'm too small for any other hole to be viable Cace: This isn't because I like you ok. Cace: We're just doing this so help me out Grim: ok ok, understood

Cace went and spread her legs prepared for the thing. Grim went and pressed the tip in which spreaded the lips of the nook. Cace grunted but didn't show any pain. So Grim went in and slowly plowed in, as he did so his dick began to bulge through the abs on the stomach. She she grunted harder as it but Cace was managing. Then Grim hit her gene sack with 2 inches left sticking out. Cace was still conscious but her wings which she was using to hold herself up were now barely keeping her back up, and was basically at the mercy of Grim. Cace knew Grim wouldn't be too rough he wasn't that kind of guy.

Cace: ffffffffffuck the size difference usually doesn't matter. Cace: but your dick takes it to a whole new level Grim: going to move ok Cace: oh ok just. I'm not going to be able to tell you to stop Grim: if i see your unconscious or in pain i'll stop Cace: ok...

Grim began to move slowly but began to pick up the pace. She wasn't hurt but she was having her insides churn as it went in. Grim also was hitting her Uterus every time so her she kept seeing flashes of white. This continued for a while but Grim was reaching a limit. Grim checked on Cace she was still awake and wasn't in pain. Also with it being a safe day for the bird girl a quick finish should be safe.

Grim: going...to...cum ok Cace: s-sure

She stammed what few words she could, before Grim shot his load into her. Grim shot a bucket load like a troll would, but it was still white and Cace already bulging belly began to swell and eventually he stopped and dropped her. She laid there twitching in some after orgasms. But soon recovered and saw the belly, she began to press to down to drain it out as she did so the two talked

Cace: I t-think my legs are numb Grim: you need me to carry you back Cace: y-yeah next time I-I'll bring a dildo Cace: sorry we couldn't train Grim: nah it's ok the size was going to play a part sooner or later

Grim was glad she wasn't mad or anything and as soon as she drained it Grim quickly washed her legs and feathers that her crusty with cum. Afterward Grim picked her up and the two went back to Hydris, where Cace slept in her own "bed" (it was still foam with sheets) and Grim slept in the recipicoon

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x14, hehe) as a sort of speculative confession scene for the finale episode. I hope you enjoy, and I will be polishing this/publishing on Ao3 shortly 💜

2,096 words

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"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as her words sink into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah," he breathes out.

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy is the first to take a step. "You've been avoiding me for a while now. Ever since the whole.. life-and-death thing with Daniel West." she takes in a shuddering breath, "And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought that you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the situation with Celia, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one. Yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

He clears his throat. "I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a recent talk during which she was alone with Ace where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at Nancy's dealings with the Hudson matriarch. A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face. "I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shameful expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most breakable, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

An exhale leaves Ace's lungs, heavy with the weight of uncertainties he can't quite place his finger on.

"Honestly? I don't know right now, Nancy. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, vulnerability - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is steady, but barely above a whisper now, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous, she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in, lowering her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of empty sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment and locks her hands around the space above his elbows, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never even felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A quirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at the Claw," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me with plenty of time to spare."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh! You know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how mercilessly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[agreatperhaps12]

There are a lot of misconceptions about Warren Peace. Five times Layla Williams saw through the bullshit, and one time Warren returned the favor.

happy holidays, @katiewont :) 

Misconception No. 1: Warren Peace loves a good fight.

Warren Peace does not go looking for fights. Fights find him.

See: Stronghold chucking a lunch tray at him the first week of class. Dumb and Dumber challenging them to Save the Citizen. Stronghold’s date going full supervillain at homecoming and nearly dropping a school-size anvil on an unsuspecting suburb.

That’s just the highlight reel for September.

When another villain interrupts Warren’s History of Heroism midterm with another school invasion, Warren’s first thought is: Could everyone around here chill for five fucking seconds.

No. Literally, not ever. See: three weeks later, when Warren is standing in line for lunch with the entourage of freshmen he’s long since given up trying to shake off. It has not even been five minutes since Warren and Stronghold defeated their latest challenger at Save the Citizen, and Zach is already doing a clumsy live-action replay.

To Stronghold, “Did you see his face when you were like?” Zach swings his arm with the spectacular confidence of someone not standing in a very crowded cafeteria. To Warren, “And then you were like—” Zach mimes shooting fireballs from his fists, complete with sound effects. “Totally brutal. You looked scary, bro.”

“He always looks scary,” Ethan says, smiling at Warren like that’s a compliment.

Warren glares down at his tray. He and Stronghold have been defending champions of Save the Citizen for over two months, Hero Team every time. He doesn’t get how people are still managing to make him feel like the bad guy about it.

“How was play-pretend battle?”

Layla has emerged from the crowd to stand beside Warren, with a smirk that makes a stupid something flutter behind his sternum. Layla stopped coming to their Save the Citizen matches after their dozenth victory, because “violence should be the last resort in any hostage situation” and “Save the Citizen completely undermines a valuable opportunity for Sky High students to learn strategic negotiation skills.” Warren doesn’t know what she does with the free period. 

Take me with you, he thinks.

“The match was epic,” Zach says. “Will got to throw a car.”

A bashful smile overtakes Stronghold’s dumb, Labrador face.

“And Warren almost barbequed Evans,” Ethan says.

Jesus, could they shut up about it already.

“Really,” Layla says, eyes on Warren while he pays for his food.

“Yeah,” Warren says, in a deadpan to rival Magenta. “It was epic.”

Layla frowns, but instead of launching into the pacifist manifesto that Warren is expecting, she holds up her bagged lunch says, “Want to eat outside?”

Before Warren can answer, Stronghold says, “Outside?” like he’s never heard of such a place. “It’s freezing out there.”

“It’s almost forty degrees,” Layla says, “and I had to come in early to finish a project, so it’s been over—” She checks the clock. “—five hours since I’ve felt roots under my feet. I’m eating outside.”

“Okay, but like.” Stronghold glances at Warren. “Do… you want me to come?”

“No, you’ll just be a baby about it,” Layla says gently. “Warren doesn’t get cold, do you?”

She looks to Warren for confirmation of a fact that Warren is one hundred percent sure he’s never told her. He shrugs to hide his wrong-footedness.

“Great.” Layla claps a hand on Stronghold’s shoulder and uses it to steer him toward the others, who are already sitting at what used to be Warren’s personal lunch table, once upon a time. She shrugs on her jacket, flips her hair out, and looks to Warren. “Shall we?”

Warren follows her outside warily. Sitting down across from her at the picnic table closest to the edge of school grounds, he says, “So, what is this, exactly?”

Layla pauses in uncurling her lunch bag. “What do you mean?”

Warren shrugs. “We don’t really hang out. Alone.”

They did, a little. Back when Layla was using Warren to make Stronghold jealous. But that pretty much ended with the homecoming debacle—after which Layla and Stronghold spent a few weeks trying to get their romantic relationship off the ground, decided they worked better as friends, and went back to normal.

“What are you talking about?” Layla says. “We hang out at the Paper Lantern all the time.”

It’s true that Layla eats at Warren’s workplace a few nights a week, when her mom is too busy with day-saving to make family dinners at home. But Layla is always doing homework, and Warren is always doing Work work, so, “I don’t think that counts.”

“It does,” Layla says confidently. It’s the kind of confidence that only Layla can pull off, because rather than coming across as arrogant, she gives the air of a mysterious woodland nymph, whose secret knowledge mere mortals wouldn’t understand.

“Okay,” Warren says, because he has precious little personal experience to back up any assertions about how friendship is supposed to work. “But this isn’t the Lantern.”

Layla raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to go back inside?”

“No,” Warren says. He doesn’t want Layla to leave, either. There’s a sureness about her that Warren finds comforting. She’s never been afraid of him—probably because she could kick his ass. Warren likes that about her. But he also likes to know where he stands with people.

By way of explanation, Layla says, “Did you know that when you get stressed out, literal steam comes out of your ears?”

“What?”

“Mm-hmm.” Layla pulls an apple out of her lunch bag. “A little. It’s easier to see when your hair is pulled back.”

Warren brings a self-conscious hand to the rubber band he used to tie his hair up during Mad Science Lab.

“It happens a lot when Zach is doing his Save the Citizen play-by-plays,” Layla observes. “Thought I might spare you an entire lunch of that.”

“Oh.” Warren’s hand drops into his lap, blind-sided by the unexpected kindness. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” Layla maintains eye contact while taking a bit of apple. Warren shifts in his seat and drops his eyes to his pizza. “You could tell Coach Boomer to assign Will a different partner,” she says after a moment. “Save the Citizen isn’t mandatory.”

Yeah, except it kind of is. No one’s ever voluntarily stepped back from a winning streak like Warren and Stronghold’s. Benching himself would never be worth all the extra side-eye in the halls. Not to mention the explanation he’d have to give Boomer. What kind of superhero-in-training refuses to fight?

Except for the one Warren is currently sitting across from, of course. Who’s looking at Warren with such doe-eyed earnestness that it almost squeezes a “Yeah, maybe” out of him. But Layla is a difficult person to lie to, so he says, “I thought we weren’t going to talk about Save the Citizen.”

Layla sits up a little straighter. “Right,” she says. “Consider it forgotten.”

“Thanks.”

Not that Warren doesn’t trust Layla, but she is the kind of person to press points she thinks are important. Before her mind can cycle back to Save the Citizen from some other angle, Warren says, “Sorry I dragged you outside in the middle of November.”

Layla tilts her head to the side. “You didn’t drag me. I dragged you.”

“Yeah, but for me,” Warren says, and there’s that stupid fluttering feeling again.

“And for me,” Layla says. “I wasn’t lying about needing to get out for a bit. Being inside all day, with the linoleum and cinderblock.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s creepy quiet, when you’re used to feeling everything alive around you.”

He’s never actually thought about it, before. How Layla has her finger on the pulse of something so vast and intricate, even when she’s not bending it to her will.

“Even in November?” Warren says. “Isn’t everything, like… dead?”

Layla laughs. “No. Just taking a long nap.”

“Huh.” Warren looks around the grey-brown landscape of the schoolyard, with its bare branches and faded grass, with new eyes. It’s a nice idea, that all these lifeless-looking things are just waiting to wake up.

Misconception No. 2: Warren Peace doesn’t give a damn about his bad reputation.

Anyone who dyes a single streak of hair, wears fingerless gloves, and walks around like he’s got nothing to prove has something big to prove.

For Warren Peace, that is: I do not give a fuck about my family legacy.

Before starting high school, Warren figured a couple kids might recognize him, by name or by strong family resemblance. But Warren’s dad had already been locked up for a long time. It wasn’t like he made the news anymore. Worse came to worst, Warren thought he might have to field a few awkward questions about it.

Homeschooling did not prepare Warren for how big a household name Barron Battle was.

The first week of school was all open seats around Warren in class and at lunch, cold and curious looks over shoulders on the bus, “Check it out, that’s Barron Battle’s devil spawn” and “I can’t believe they even let supervillain kids in.”

It was treat or be treated like dirt, and Warren chose the former.

Fast-forward to junior year, and Sky High students know Warren Peace for the asshole he is, rather than the asshole his father was. Warren is comfortably back to pretending like his dad doesn’t exist. It mostly works.

Except during a History of Heroism unit on the most notorious villains of the twentieth century, when Warren’s class is staring at a PowerPoint slide that depicts the leveled Brooklyn neighborhood where Barron Battle and the Commander had their final showdown.

Warren ignores his classmates’ not-so-covert glances as Mr. Magnificent rattles of statistics like ‘seven dead and dozens injured’ and ‘nearly one billion dollars in damages.’ Magnificent has to pause his lecture to silence the white noise of whispers that has swelled up, and Warren wants to sink through the floor.

It’s like the first week of freshman year all over again. Warren is projecting I don’t care vibes so hard, there’s a good chance he’ll spontaneously combust.

What feels like an eon later, the classroom lights come up. Warren shoves everything into his backpack and heads for the door before anyone can try to talk to him. As usual, Layla is out of Hero Support early and waiting in the hall to meet Warren for lunch. Her patent sun-bright smile slips as Warren escapes the classroom.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” she says.

“What?” Warren stops up short. “Nowhere. There’s no fire.”

“I was kidding,” Layla says, and winces at herself. “Poor choice of words. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Warren rakes his fingers through his hair. “I can’t come to lunch today. I have to—work on something.”

Normally, when Warren is feeling like shit, there’s nothing he’d rather do than sit with Layla in their little oasis of calm at the schoolyard picnic table. But right now, Warren needs at least thirty minutes to pace around the empty auto shop classroom, literally and figuratively cooling off, before he subjects himself to more human company.

“Okay,” Layla says, hugging her notebook to her chest and looking at him critically. “Are you—”

“Yeah. It’s—whatever. I’ll see you later.” Warren shoulders his way through the crowded hall toward the shop room, head down.

Smooth, he thinks at himself. Very smooth.

Shut up.

Warren assumes the first chance he’ll have to apologize to Layla is the next day at lunch. But when Warren shows up for his shift at the Paper Lantern at five, Layla is already sitting at her usual table. Weird, because Layla usually doesn’t come to the Lantern on Thursdays. Weirder, because when she does come, she typically arrives sometime after eight, when the dinner rush has mostly cleared out.

“What can I get you?” Warren says, drawing his pencil out from behind his ear as he approaches Layla’s table. They do try to maintain some appearances of an employee-customer relationship, to appease Mrs. Zhou.

“Hmm.” Layla examines the menu. “I’d like one kung pao tofu, one green tea, and—” She looks up at him. “—for you to explain why you fled your History of Heroism class today.”

“I didn’t flee,” Warren says. “I stormed out.”

“All right,” Layla agrees easily. “Why did you storm out of History of Heroism?”

Warren crosses his arms. “None of your business.”

“Okay.” Layla holds out her menu.

Warren blinks. “What?”

“You’re right, it’s not my business,” she says. “I just thought you might want to talk about whatever it was.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Warren squints. “Okay…”

“Okay,” Layla says again, and flaps the menu in her hand.

Warren takes it slowly, waiting for the catch. But Layla just pulls a binder and notebook out of her backpack. “Honey with the tea, please,” she says, and clicks open a pen.

“I know,” Warren says, and leaves Layla to her homework. He spends most of the next half-hour trying to untangle why he feels disappointed rather than relieved.

The thing is, Warren sometimes gets a “What was that about?” or “Dude, what the hell happened back there?” from classmates after he goes nuclear. Like after his cafeteria fight with Stronghold in September. Those questions always feel voyeuristic. Prickly and probing.

With Layla, though, the question feels less invasive and more inviting. For the first time, Warren wants to explain himself. He wants Layla to understand. He doesn’t want her to see him as some moody, unapproachable asshole. But he also doesn’t know how to approach her, or the subject, now that he’s already shut it down.

He’s been talking himself in and out of going back over to Layla’s table for ten minutes when Mrs. Zhou sidles up to the pass-through window where Warren is brooding.

“If you’re going to stand around making eyes at your girlfriend, take your fifteen and go over before the dinner crowd arrives,” she says.

Warren’s face heats, and he looks around to see whether anyone is in earshot, even though he’s pretty sure none of Mrs. Zhou’s whitebread suburban customers understand Mandarin. “She’s not my—never mind.”

Deciding he’d rather be having any other conversation besides this one with Mrs. Zhou, Warren forces himself to walk over to Layla’s table and sit down.

“We learned about the Barron in class today,” he says, abandoning any attempt at preamble, “for a lesson on notable supervillain takedowns.”

If Layla is surprised by Warren’s sudden attempt at conversation, she doesn’t show it. She hooks her pen through the spiral of her notebook, closes it, and waits for him to continue.

“Magnificent was showing pictures from the last time Dad and the Commander fought in New York,” Warren says, “and people were looking at me like I was involved somehow, even though all that shit went down when I was still in diapers, and those people have been in my classes for three years, like—I know, we all know Barron Battle is my dad, why can’t everyone fucking get over it already—”

Layla lays a hand on his forearm, cutting Warren off and drawing his attention to the fact that his clenched fist is smouldering like a hot coal. “Shit. Sorry.” Warren shakes out his hand, and Layla pulls back. He wishes she wouldn’t.

Layla waits for the red glow of Warren’s knuckles to dim and then says, “Mr. Magnificent is an idiot. It was totally inappropriate to include your dad in a presentation, especially without asking you first.”

Warren shrugs. “A lot of people’s parents end up in his presentations,” he says. “They’re just usually on the right side.”

“He still should have asked you,” Layla says. “Also, you helped save the entire school in September. If people still think you’re anything like your dad after that, they’re idiots and you shouldn’t care what they think.”

Warren wants to say “I don’t.” What comes out is, “This is high school. Everyone cares what everyone thinks.”

“I don’t,” Layla says.

Warren wants to contradict her, but from what he can tell, Layla genuinely doesn’t. “You have to care a little,” he says.

Layla raises her eyebrows like oh, yeah? and points to her characteristically Whoville-style twist of braids and glittery clips. “You think these hairdos made me a lot of friends in middle school?”

“I didn’t go to middle school.”

“Well, they didn’t,” Layla says.

“Then why do you wear your hair like that?”

“Because I like it.” Layla twirls a stray piece of hair around her forefinger. “And I don’t need to be one of the pretty girls to feel good about myself.”

“You are pretty,” Warren blurts, and immediately has to suppress the urge to set himself on fire.

Layla’s eyes go wide. The last time Warren saw her blush this deep, he’d just called her out for crushing on Stronghold. But instead of straight-up embarrassed, this time Layla’s blush is weirdly, shyly pleased. “You think so?” Her chin is tilted down so that she’s looking up at him through her eyelashes, which is not fair.

“Me?” Warren points at himself, like an idiot. “I don’t—I mean, I do, but it’s not just—you are pretty. People know that. It’s an objective fact.”

“Really.” Layla’s cheeks are still pink, but her smile has a playful slant now.

“Yeah,” Warren says, more defensively than he intends. Christ, he was so much better at this when they were fake-dating, when none of Warren’s smirks or swagger could mean anything. Now, without the protection of pretense, everything feels altogether too personal. Warren is not good at personal.

“Thank you,” Layla says, and bites her lip in hesitation before tacking on, “you’re pretty, too.”

Whatever that comment is—reflex, or politeness, or something else—it is officially too much. “I have to get back to work,” Warren says, overloud in the quiet restaurant, and bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his haste to stand up.

“Okay,” Layla says, trying to hide a smile behind her hand. Before he can turn away, she adds, “Warren,” and points to either side of her head.

Warren stares at her blankly for a second before he catches her drift, yanks his hair down from his ponytail to hide his surely steaming ears, and practically runs back to the kitchen.

Misconception No. 3: Warren Peace thinks he’s got the best power.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Layla says as she turns the key in her front lock, “my house is kind of crowded.”

Warren frowns. “I thought you were an only child.”

“No siblings,” Layla says. “A lot of roommates. You’ll see.”

What Warren sees is a menagerie that would do Ace Ventura proud.

“Watch out for the—everything,” Layla says, leading him through a flock of peacocks, a few dogs and several cats that slink by too quickly to count.

“Why… is this?” is the only semi-coherent question that Warren can formulate as he shoos a parrot from his shoulder and shakes his pant leg free of a fox’s jaws.

“You’re not the only one who has to live with your parent’s superpower,” Layla says.

Layla’s mom, apparently, is a zoolinguist. The only place in the entire house not overrun by furry or feathered residents is Layla’s room.

“Wow,” Warren says as he crosses the threshold.

Layla’s bedroom is situated on the back corner of the house, and the two external walls and ceiling are all paneled glass. Presumably to usher in maximum sunlight for the greenery that crowds almost every inch of space besides Layla’s bed and desk. Warren has to shed his winter coat immediately to avoid overheating in the humidity.

“Yeah,” Layla says. “Sometimes I forget how weird it is. Will’s the only friend I’ve ever had up here.”

Layla is the only friend Warren has ever had in his room—which she immediately declared “entirely predictable,” on account of the punk rock posters plastered across his walls. Layla’s room is way more predictable, if you ask Warren. Or at least, Warren would have predicted this, if he’d known literal greenhouse was a legitimate option.

“It’s nice,” he says. “Peaceful.”

“Isn’t it?” Layla takes Warren’s coat and hangs it on a hook behind the leaves of an elephant ear plant. “Mom had the place renovated before we moved in. I think she figured, if she was going to let every animal in the neighborhood have the run of our house, it wasn’t fair to exile my plants to the backyard.”

“Do they all live here all the time?” Warren says, pointing at the floor to indicate the veritable petting zoo downstairs.

“Some of them,” Layla says. “Mom is good at finding homes for most. I think donations from her fans are single-handedly keeping every shelter in the city afloat.”

It’s rude to ask about superheroes’ secret identities, but context clues give Warren a pretty good idea who Ms. Williams might be. Charismatic Megafauna is basically a one-woman PETA operation, liberating animals from factory farms and delivering them to free-range pastures as often as she commands her elite squadron of apex predators to take down baddies. She’s a more controversial figure than the Commander and Jetstream, but she does have an extremely dedicated cult following.  

“Her power sounds amazing,” Warren says.

“Most of the time,” Layla says. She collects a watering can from beside her bed and begins to fill it with a knee-high spigot beside the door. “But there’s a lot of animal suffering in the world. It can get exhausting for her to be tapped into it all the time, you know?”

Warren pauses to consider. “Yeah, I guess that would be overwhelming.”

Layla turns off the tap and carries her watering can to the closest table laden with potted plants. “Everyone’s superpower looks spectacular on the news,” she says, with a very un-Layla-like smile. “No one’s around to see it when your power makes you so sad you can’t get out of bed.”

“Except you,” Warren guesses.

Layla drops her not-really-smile. “Except me.”

Warren shuffles along the row of plants beside Layla while she waters them. He waits until she finishes refilling the can and starts a new row before asking, “Does that ever happen to you? Your powers getting you down.”

Layla studiously waters a flower with orange starburst petals. “Plants have more…auras and vibes than thoughts and feelings,” she says, and tickles the flower under one leaf. The plant visibly perks up under her ministrations, and Layla smiles. For real, this time. “Their pain doesn’t feel as sharp to me as animals’ pain does to my mom.”

“But,” Warren prompts.

“But sometimes, yeah,” Layla says, and moves on to the next plant.

Warren casts around for something comforting to say, but comes up with nothing better than, “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Layla says, “but it’s the exception to the rule. Most of the time, I wouldn’t give up feeling this—” She rubs her fingertips over a browning leaf to paint it green. “—for anything.”

Warren shouldn’t be jealous of Layla’s powers. Especially after she’s just admitted what a burden they can be. But Layla has also just confirmed what Warren has long suspected: Superabilities, even the ostensibly powerful ones, are not created equal. Warren’s pyrokinesis is, fundamentally, a weapon. A blunt tool to wield when the situation calls for violence. Layla’s power, on the other hand, seems more like a sixth sense. A trapdoor to another plane of reality.

How much of Layla Williams’s worldview draws on the alien insight of plants that no other human being, least of all Warren Peace, could ever possibly understand?

Layla interrupts Warren’s inferiority spiral with, “I’ve never talked about this with anyone but my mom.”

Warren watches Layla coax a stem into standing up straighter. “Not even Stronghold?”

He should not take as much pleasure as he does in Layla’s dismissive laugh. “Especially not Will.”

“Why not?”

“For a long time, he didn’t have any powers, and he was so jealous of mine, it seemed mean to complain about them to Will.”

“And now?”

“Now, he’s in the honeymoon phase with his new powers,” Layla says, “and it seems mean to bring him down.”

Not even Warren believes Stronghold can be that fragile. “I’m sure he’d get over it.”

“Maybe, but, you know. The things we do for our best friends,” Layla says, with a what can you do shrug, and returns to the faucet for another refill.

“So, why tell me?”

Layla chews the inside of her cheek. “I guess because you already have a complex about your own powers the size of Texas, thanks to your dad.”

“What?” Warren balks. “I do not.”

Layla squints. “Don’t you, though?”

“No. I—shut up.” Warren looks away, feeling hot all over.

Layla bends down to turn off the tap. A moment later, her hand on Warren’s shoulder startles him into looking back at her. Her big, brown eyes are wide with sympathy. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” Warren snaps.

“Okay.” Typical Layla, letting him feel whatever he’s going to feel and say whatever he’s going to say and refuse to throw hands about it.

Warren’s spark of anger sputters and dies. He huffs out an exhale. “It’s not only about my dad,” he admits, quietly, mostly to the floor.

Layla’s hand remains on his shoulder while she waits for an elaboration. Warren very carefully does not acknowledge it in any way, for fear it might stop.

“Fire is...useful,” he says. “But it can only destroy things. I can’t create. Not like…” He waves a hand around Layla’s room. “All I’m good for is fighting, and sometimes I wish—” Warren shoves a hand through his hair. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Layla’s hand squeezes his shoulder. “First of all, you are not your power,” she says. “No matter what Boomer or anyone else says. Second, fire is creative. It creates light and warmth.”

“If I’m ever transported back in time to an era before electricity, I’m sure that’ll be extremely handy,” Warren says, aiming for wry and not quite making it, because the tickly feeling that flitters to life in his chest whenever Layla says nice things about him is going wild.

Layla rolls her eyes. “Third of all, you do not need a superpower to create and nurture things.” Before Warren can stop her, Layla has pushed her watering can into his hand.

“What?” he says. “I don’t know anything about plants. I’d probably kill them all.” He holds the watering can out to Layla, who does not take it.

“Don’t act like you don’t have a book of Keats in your backpack right now,” she says. “If you know ‘To Autumn,’ you already know the most important things about plants. Everything else is technicalities.”

Warren gives her a doubtful look.

Layla sighs. “Trust me. Which you should, because I know literally everything about plants, and I’m a very good teacher, and I would not let you hurt any of my babies. Okay?”

Layla holds out her hand, and Warren has to channel all his concentration into keeping his cool enough that he doesn’t burn her when he takes it in his own. Layla grins, and Warren feels a little light-headed with the thrill of it.

“Come on,” she says, and pulls him toward the row of potted flowers where they left off. Warren follows, as helpless as any of the flora around them to resist the benevolent force of nature that is Layla Williams.

Misconception No. 4: Warren Peace doesn’t get scared.

This illusion is at least partly on purpose. Part of the do not fuck with me ethos Warren has been cultivating for the better part of three years.

In reality, plenty of things scare Warren. Like the idea that everyone is right about him after all, and he’ll end up on the Superheroes Guild’s Most Wanted List someday. Or that deep down, a kernel of grudge in his mother resents Warren for taking so closely after his father. But those are more midnight-existential-crisis concerns than acute fears.

Warren gets scared during battles, too. But the initial kick of adrenaline always seems to knock his consciousness clear of his body, such that he spends most of the fight controlling the firestorm of his fists from somewhere above the action. He usually doesn’t realize how freaked out he is until after the fact, when his brain plugs back into his body and he thinks, huh, my hands won’t stop shaking.

It’s rare that Warren feels, in real time, the bass-drum beat of his heart and a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. But that’s exactly what happens every time he gets close to asking Layla out on a date.

He’s come close so many times. He’s had the tickets in his jacket pocket for weeks. But the prospect of actually asking Layla invites the prospect of Layla saying no, and Warren—can’t.

Sometimes, he can almost convince himself that she would say yes, despite the fact that Layla is kind, beautiful, mystical Layla, and Warren is social-pariah, problem-child Warren. Like last Tuesday, when Layla said “you’re such a disaster” with such heart-stopping fondness, while she pulled a rubber band from Warren’s hair to replace it with one of her own, more comfortable fabric hair ties. Or last Friday, while they were watching a movie at Layla’s place, and she tucked her socked toes under Warren’s thigh on the couch. Or yesterday, when she held her hands out over the picnic table for Warren to warm her pink fingertips between his palms.

And always, in the back of Warren’s mind: “You’re pretty, too.”

But whenever Warren opens his mouth to ask, his tongue goes dry and his palms go damp. It’s such a stupid thing to be afraid of, it makes Warren want to close his head in a locker. Worst case scenario, Layla turns him down. They’d still be friends. She wouldn’t be cruel. She’s Layla. But Warren isn’t used to having so much of himself caught up in another person. The idea that Layla isn’t equally caught up in him provokes a strangled, withering feeling in the pit of Warren’s stomach that he can only imagine would intensify tenfold after the actual rejection.

So, Warren’s been procrastinating.

But time is running out.

It does not help that Stronghold’s flock of freshmen is currently obsessing over Winter Formal like a bunch of… well, freshmen.

“You guys asking anyone?” Zach says at lunch, one day when freezing rain is lashing Sky High too hard for even Layla to sit outside. Zach hooks an arm over Magenta’s shoulder, as if to underline the fact that she’s already spoken for. Magenta rolls her eyes but doesn’t shrug him off.

“I would ask Larry,” Ethan says, pushing steamed vegetables around on his plate with his fork. “If I could stop going full-puddle every time he looks at me.”

Layla and Magenta make sympathetic noises.

“I think I’m gonna ask Abby,” Stronghold says, eyes cast over at a table where Warren assumes this Abby must sit. He hasn’t bothered to keep up with Stronghold’s latest romantic fixation. They’re already two—three?—full crush cycles past Layla. Warren can’t believe he ever felt threatened by a kid with the attention span of a housefly.

“She’d totally say yes,” Magenta says. “I overheard her about how hot you are during the Shapeshifting Students Association meeting.”

“Really?” Will says, at the same time Layla goes, “Magenta!”

“What?”

“Gossip.”

“Okay, Mother Williams,” Magenta says. To Will, “We’ll talk later.”

Layla looks intent on pressing the matter, but Ethan says, “Do you have a date, Layla?”

Everyone turns to Layla, except for Stronghold, whose eyes inexplicably flick over to Warren—who glares him into dropping eye contact.

“No,” Layla says, unconcerned.  

“Not yet,” Zach says. “Just a question of who asks first.”

Warren’s heart stutters, and he swallows back a “What?”

Luckily, Stronghold has less restraint. “What?” he says, like he wasn’t ogling another girl 0.2 seconds ago.

Zach looks at Stronghold like, Are you kidding? “Layla’s hot,” he says slowly. Magenta nods in agreement. “Chen, Robinson, and Feinstein are all thinking about asking.”

“And those are just the ones we’ve heard about,” Magenta says.

“Where are you guys getting this intel?” Ethan says. “We’re your only friends.”

“You can hear a lot from the inside of a locker,” Zach says.

“Or from the vents,” Magenta adds.

“Who’s still shoving you in a locker?” Layla says, frowning at Zach.

“Don’t deflect,” Magenta says. “Who are you going to take?”

“I don’t know,” Layla says, very pink and very determinedly acting like she’s not. “I didn’t know I had options until right now.”

Warren didn’t know he had competition until right now. In his defense, he deliberately pays as little attention as possible to rest of the Sky High student body, except for the five freshmen who invaded his space last fall and refused to leave. But of course other guys want to ask Layla.

Fuck.

“What about you, Bucky Barnes?” Zach says, throwing Warren an upward nod. “Got your eye on any hot junior goths we don’t know about?”

Warren scowls. “No.”

“Warren’s too cool for school dances,” Magenta says.

Stronghold frowns. “He took Layla to homecoming.”

“Only to make you jealous,” Layla is quick to correct.

Warren’s eyes snap over to her, but Layla isn’t looking at him. Just stabbing at her salad with her fork and letting her hair partially obscure her still pink cheeks.

An uncomfortable, sour feeling settles in Warren’s stomach. He makes himself look back at Zach. “I don’t do school dances. I have a thing anyway.”

“What thing?” Magenta says.

“A thing,” Warren says, with enough finality that even Zach knows better than to push it.

That is, until Stronghold corners Warren at his locker after final period to ask, “What thing do you have to do instead of Winter Formal?”

Warren continues loading books into his backpack. “A thing.”

Stronghold, in a bid for Warren’s full attention, shuts his locker door. As soon as Warren turns a glare on him, the kid goes bug-eyed.

“I am so sorry!” he says, reaching out to open the locker, only to remember that, duh, it’s Warren’s and he can’t. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Warren must be spending too much time with Layla, because instead of picking Stronghold up by his shirt collar, he merely swats Stronghold’s hand away and unlocks his locker.

“It was only—I know someone who was hoping you’d ask them to Winter Formal,” Stronghold says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Warren fixes Stronghold with a flat expression. “You’re not my type.”

For an aspiring superhero, Stronghold flusters extremely easily. “Wh—not me!” he says, and then leans in and lowers his voice. “You know.”

Warren, who is not in the business of getting his hopes up—no matter how many summersaults his stomach is doing—raises his eyebrows.

“Layla,” Stronghold murmurs, so low that Warren has to read his lips.

Summersaults, cartwheels, handsprings. Warren’s stomach is performing a full-on gymnastics routine. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Stronghold admits, and Warren’s stomach immediately flops. “But I am something of an expert on Layla Williams.”

Warren, who has an entire September’s worth of evidence to the contrary, makes a psh noise.

Stronghold squares his shoulders and ticks off on his fingers: “She hangs out at the Lantern all the time. She eats lunch with you, alone, every other day. The way she talks about you—”

“She talks about me?”

“Dude.” Stronghold lays a hand on Warren’s shoulder, looking so delighted with the irony that it takes everything in Warren not to ignite. “You’re so stupid. She’s totally into you.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Right.” Stronghold’s hand immediately slides off. “Seriously, though. If you don’t ask Layla to the dance, someone else will.”

“Noted,” Warren says, like he isn’t already tying himself into knots over that exact possibility.

“You’re gonna ask her, then?”

Warren heaves a sigh. He can’t believe he’s about to confide in Will Stronghold, of all people, but at this juncture it seems like the path of least resistance. “I have tickets to something that night, and I want to ask Layla to go with me.”

Stronghold has the audacity to look innocently perplexed. “So, why haven’t you?”

“I’m, you know.” Warren pushes back his hair. “Waiting for the right time.”

Stronghold looks dubious. “It’s a date, not a prom-posal.”

“I know that,” Warren snaps.

Stronghold blinks, and something seems to click in his head. His expression goes slightly amused and, even worse, sympathetic. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not,” Warren says, but it sounds like a lie even to his own ears. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“Okay, well.” Stronghold blows out a breath and puts his hands on his hips. “Any chance the right moment might be, like, today? Around now-ish?”

Warren narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because Magenta texted me five minutes ago that Andrew Chen is standing next to our bus, waiting for Layla.”

Warren’s heart lurches. “You should have led with that, Christ.” Guess he’s doing this now. Is he really doing this now? He has to, so he is. Warren slams his locker and swings his bag over his shoulder. “Where is Layla?”

“Magenta said she stayed after class to talk to Mr. Boy about—oh, okay, then. Bye! Good luck!” Stronghold calls after Warren’s retreating figure as he strides off down the hall.

Warren is so preoccupied with figuring out what he’s going to say to Layla when he finds her that he nearly runs into her as she exits Mr. Boy’s classroom.

“Warren,” she says, blinking up at him in surprise. “Hi.”

Warren, who suddenly feels like he’s stepped on stage with no lines prepared, takes a second to remember how to breathe before he gets out a “Hi.”

Layla stares up at him expectantly. Right. He’s supposed to say more words.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

A pucker forms between Layla’s eyebrows. “Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you, too.”

Warren clenches the tickets between sweat-damp fingers in his pocket. “Okay. Do you want to…” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the mostly empty hallway.

“Okay.”

Layla follows him out into the hall, and they stand in semi-awkward silence until Warren says, “You first.”

“All right.” Layla tucks her hair behind her ears. She already looks embarrassed. Not good. “So, I might be way off base here, but I get the feeling you’ve been working yourself up to asking me to Winter Formal?” Her voice lilts up like a question, but she must find all the confirmation she needs in Warren’s expression, because she immediately continues, “and I just wanted to make it clear that you don’t have to.”

When Warren opens his mouth, “Oh” is all that comes out.

“Yeah.” Layla hooks her thumbs through the straps of her backpack. “I know school dances aren’t really your thing—and they’re not exactly mine, either. So I didn’t want you to think homecoming set some sort of precedent, that you have to ask—”

“I wanted to ask you,” Warren says, finally unsticking his throat.

It’s Layla’s turn for surprised silence. It takes a full two seconds for her to get out, “You did?”

“Yeah, but—not to the dance. Here.” Warren pulls the tickets out of his pocket. His thumb has smudged the ink of the top ticket, so he hands the bottom one to Layla. “Town hall is holding a fundraiser gala next Saturday to raise money to build a park on an empty lot in my neighborhood.”  

Layla takes the ticket in both hands and stares down at it.

“There’s going to be food and music and dancing,” Warren says, heart rate accelerating. “I think they’re going to auction off dedications for benches and flower beds and stuff. There will probably be a couple boring speeches by some government officials, but.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I dunno. It sounded like it could be fun.”

Layla still hasn’t said anything, and Warren’s heart is throwing a fit in his ribcage, so he adds, “It’s the night of Winter Formal, though. So if you wanted to go to the dance with someone else and hang out with your friends, I totally—”

“No,” Layla says, looking up at him with bright eyes and a wide smile. “I’d love to go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Warren says, too overcome by the cold flood of relief pooling in his gut to say anything more substantive than, “Cool.”

Layla carefully slots her gala ticket into the front pocket of her backpack. “Took you long enough,” she says, angling a teasing smile at Warren. “I couldn’t take another week of you opening your mouth like you were going to ask me something and then not saying anything.”

“Thank Stronghold,” Warren says, wondering what his life has come to, that those words just came out of his mouth. Must be the generosity of giddy relief.

Layla’s nose scrunches up in tickled confusion. “Why?”

“He warned me that Chen was gonna ask you to the dance this afternoon,” Warren says. “Sort of lit a fire under my ass.”

“But Andrew—” Layla breaks off with a laugh and shakes her head. “Will.”

“What?”

Layla takes Warren’s hand and starts walking them down the hall. “Andrew Chen’s been sick with the flu all week,” she says. “He’s not even here today.”

Warren’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds. “Stronghold.”

Layla laughs again and swipes her thumb across the back of Warren’s hand, and a great, soft warmth blooms in Warren’s chest.

Well. If he has to be indebted to Will Stronghold for something, this is as good a favor as Warren could have asked for.

Misconception No. 5: Warren Peace is not a touchy-feely person.

Warren himself would have sworn by this one, until a month ago. He has never, in all his life, considered himself a cuddly person. By any stretch.

It turns out that in order to identify as a cuddly person, you need someone to cuddle. Or, more specifically, someone you have permission to cuddle.

Dating Layla Williams finally gives Warren that permission.

He expected it to be harder, weirder, more awkward to transition from being someone who looks at Layla and thinks I want to put my arm around you, to being a person who can actually reach behind her back and curl his fingers over her hip bone.

It’s not hard at all. The first time Layla kisses Warren, up on her toes with her hands fisted in the lapels of his suit, in the dark of her front porch after the fundraiser gala, there’s a shift. A gravitational kick that sends them into closer orbit around one another, so that now it’s routine for Warren to wrap Layla in his jacket and tuck her into his side as they walk. Steal her hand to press her knuckles to his lips. Knock his knee gently against hers under their picnic table.

“Who knew Warren Peace was such a cuddle bug,” Magenta says, tipped back in a papasan chair to peer at Warren upside-down.

Warren is sitting on the shag carpet of Stronghold’s basement with his back against the couch to let Layla play with his hair while they talk over a movie. She’s just tied off an elaborate braid, so now his cheek is resting against her knee while she twirls the fine hairs at the nape of his neck around her fingers.  

“Call me ‘cuddle bug’ ever again and I’ll roast you like a marshmallow,” Warren says, too sleepy and comfortable to put any real heat behind the threat.

Magenta, true to form, doesn’t so much as blink. “Hate to break it to you, but an elegant Dutch braid kind of undermines your whole tough-guy act.”

Warren simply shrugs. It’s an occupational hazard of dating Layla, spending a lot more time around her—their?—friends outside school. Warren resisted at first, but at this point, it’s more exhausting to continue holding them all at arm’s length than to let them have the run of his life.

“Layla, in general, kind of undermines his whole tough-guy act,” Zach says. “You know he wrote her a poem for Valentine’s day.”

“Read her a poem,” Warren says. What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t very well get Layla clipped flowers.

“That’s still sappy as hell, dude,” Ethan says.

“It was very sweet,” Layla says, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Warren’s forehead.

Warren unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile.

“He’s preening so hard right now, oh my god,” Magenta says.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t tease him, or he won’t come back,” Layla says, but Warren hears the smile in her voice.

“Please. He’d go anywhere you go,” Magenta says, and as Layla’s fingertip traces the shell of Warren’s ear gently, always gently, Warren doesn’t even attempt to contradict her.

+1 Misconception: Layla Williams is a just happy, go-lucky hippy chick.

Outside Layla’s bedroom window, everything green is tucked under snow and the weight of waiting for spring. On the other side of the world, everything is burning.

Record-setting wildfires have raked Australia for weeks. Neither Layla nor her mom can directly feel what’s happening to the outback. But Layla knows her mom must sense it like she does, every time a singed koala or graveyard of splinterlike tree trunks appears on the news: a gnawing sensation that something on the far edges of her mind is vanishing into smoke.

The worst part is knowing there’s nothing Layla can do. Even if she had the means to get to Australia, there’s no way to salvage the aftermath of a forest fire. Layla wields incredible power over living organisms. But it’s like conducting an orchestra. Not much to be done if the entire ensemble is already dead when she takes the stage.

Actually, the real worst part is knowing that the inferno currently eating up Australia isn’t an outlier. The warming world is parching landscapes and revving up hurricanes, and every weather-related threat to her beloved biosphere is only going to get much, much worse. It makes Layla feel horribly, inescapably small.

To avoid sitting around the house and chewing her nails down, Layla takes on more volunteer shifts at the animal shelter. Helps Magenta with outreach for the Shapeshifting Students Association. Spends a couple Saturdays with the local river cleanup volunteer crew. Cooks dinner on the nights her mom is actually home. Overstudies for an exam in Hero Support.

It’s all a good distraction, but at the price of exhaustion. Layla feels emotionally sore. Like she’s been doing the psychological equivalent of running springs.

Case in point: “Layla?”

Layla blinks herself out of her middle-space-stare at the picnic table. “Hmm?”

Warren frowns. “I said, are you coming to the Lantern tonight?”

“Oh, no,” Layla says, and winces her apology. “Will’s coming over to study for Hero Support.”

“Why? You’re gonna ace that thing.”

“I promised Will I’d help him review.”

Warren’s frown deepens.

“What?”

“You should take a break,” he says.

Layla hides a yawn behind one hand and waves the other dismissively. “I’m fine.”

Warren gives her a flat look. Most of his expressions are pretty flat, but Layla has gotten good at reading the subtleties. This one says, quit your bullshit.

“What?” she says.

“You—” Warren spends a couple seconds struggling to find the right words. “Your hair is in a ponytail.”

Layla replays that in her overtired mind, wondering whether she heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“No sparkly clip things. No scrunchies. You didn’t even do the thing where you wrap a little piece of hair around the elastic to hide it,” Warren says, as though that clarifies anything. When Layla’s expression makes clear that it does not, Warren sighs. “Babe. You’re exhausted.”

“Am not,” Layla says, and feels totally betrayed by her own body when the words are stretched out by a yawn. “Coincidence,” she says, in response to Warren’s unimpressed eyebrow-raise.

“Layla.”

“It’s fine,” she insists.

“Take a break,” Warren says, more insistently. “Stronghold can survive cramming for one exam on his own. Let baby bird learn to fly.”

“He’ll drop like a rock,” Layla says mournfully.

“Probably,” Warren says. “But you don’t have to be there for everyone all the time.”

Layla studies her bitten nails. “It makes me feel better.”

Warren’s ever-warm hands take hold of Layla’s, making her look up. But whatever he has in mind to say is interrupted by the bell. Warren gives her fingers a brief squeeze before releasing them, so that they can collect their things.

“Tell Stronghold to find himself another tutor so you can have a night off,” Warren says, hooking an arm over Layla’s shoulders as they head for the front doors. “Please.”

Layla does not. Which is why, when she says “come in” to the soft knock on her bedroom door at eight o’clock, she expects Will. Instead, she gets Warren, hovering on the threshold with his usual carefully concealed uncertainty, like he’s a vampire who has to wait to be invited in.

“What are you doing here?” Layla says, sliding off her bed. “I thought you had work.”

“Got someone to cover my shift,” Warren says. He’s holding what looks like a magazine. “This was more important.”

“What is… this?” Layla says. “You know Will’s going to be here any minute.”

“No, he’s not,” Warren says. “He’s at Magenta’s”

Layla narrows her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Told him to go find another study partner,” Warren says. “Since you’re already prepared.”

Layla crosses her arms and sinks her weight into one hip. “I told you, I want to help.”

Warren adjusts his grip on the magazine. Layla hears the paper stick to the sweat on his fingertips, but his determined expression doesn’t change. “Then help me.”

Layla blinks. “With what?”

Warren holds up what turns out to be a gardening catalog. “I want to get my mom a couple of indoor plants for her birthday,” he says. “Something pretty but doesn’t require a lot of attention, because she’s gone so much. I thought maybe you could help.”

Layla stares at him. “I love shopping for potted plants,” she says slowly.

Warren exhales a short laugh. “Uh, yeah, I know. And you are a good teacher, so.”

He rolls the catalog up between his hands and looks at Layla with guarded hope that shoots a bolt of affection like heat lightning straight through her stomach. She needs to sit down.

“Come in, then,” she says, and ushers him through the door. While Warren is taking off his shoes, “Just so we’re clear, you are not going to make a habit of rearranging my schedule behind my back.”

Warren stands up straight, dead serious. “Got it.”

Layla indulges a smile and leans up to kiss him. “I’ll forgive you this time, though.”

They sit on Layla’s bed, flipping through Warren’s catalog, as well as a stack of magazines that Layla has pulled out from under her desk. Warren loops his arms around her waist and hooks his chin over her shoulder, listening intently while she explains the care and keeping of flowers. It’s comfortable and easy and requires just enough idle attention to avoid falling into a slump. Layla could do this forever, she thinks.

Not an hour later, Layla is lying with her chin propped on her hands, which are folded over Warren’s chest, struggling to keep up conversation through yawns of increasing frequency.

“You can go to bed, you know,” Warren says, dryly amused, and tucks a strand of hair that has fallen out of Layla’s loose ponytail behind her ear.

“I might fall asleep right here on top of you, if you keep talking about it,” Layla says, closing her eyes and pillowing her cheek on her hands.

She feels, rather than hears Warren’s hitched inhale, and suddenly feels more acutely awake than she has all week.

Three seconds pass before Warren murmurs, “You can. If you want.”

Layla very carefully keeps her body relaxed and does not open her eyes to avoid breaking the fragile moment. “Mmm-kay,” she says, and adjusts to find a slightly more comfortable position. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Warren says, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, his other thumb smoothing the hair back at her temple.

Layla is so keenly aware of every point of contact that she thinks she might stay awake after all. But within minutes, the soft touch pulls her down into sleep.

[sweetbitterpdf]

compte à rebours II (2.3k words)

chapter two (of two): ‘bonne année, eliott’

( chapter one here )

new year’s fic / determined eliott / a new year’s kiss

---

As Christmas comes and goes, Eliott spends time with family and friends. He exchanges presents, works on an assignment— criminal as it may be to assign work over break— and works on new art. It is, all things considered, time off from school that is well-spent.

So, naturally, he feels as if something is missing the entire time.

And, naturally, he knows that the something in question is Lucas.

He hasn’t been able to take his mind off of their almost-kiss since it had happened. He had been drunk enough while they watched the movie that the memory is a bit fuzzy around the edges. But he remembers Lucas’ warmth, as he leaned into him. He remembers Lucas’ little smile, when he asked if it was alright for him to curl up against him. He remembers falling asleep, and waking up considerably more sober.

He remembers needing to give Lucas a proper goodbye.

And Imane directing their attention toward the mistletoe.

And then—

Cowardice.

He could have kissed him, then. 

He can hear his therapist chiding him for worrying about what ifs and could haves, but there are times when he can’t help it. He had wanted to— he had wanted to so badly— and it seemed as if Lucas had wanted to, as well.

But he wants his first kiss with Lucas, if such a thing is in the cards for them, to be perfect. He doesn’t want an ‘under the mistletoe on the way out of a party’ sort of first kiss. He wants something that’s thought out, something that’s timed perfectly.

Something like a New Year’s kiss.

The idea dawns on him suddenly, and upon checking the date— remembering what day it is is nearly impossible on break, the days all blend together, for him— he realizes he only has a couple of days to set this plan into motion.

---

Vendredi 13:15 Message à: Imane Bakhellal

Hey, Imane, it’s Eliott. Are there any plans going on for New Year’s?

Vendredi 13:17 Message de: Imane Bakhellal

You’re asking me and not my brother because…?

Vendredi 13:17 Message à: Imane Bakhellal

Idriss isn’t responding

Vendredi 13:17 Message de: Imane Bakhellal

Typical

Vendredi 13:18

We’re getting together at Emma’s place again, yeah. Should be pretty similar to Christmas

Vendredi 13:18 Message à: Imane Bakhellal

Oh, cool!

Vendredi 13:18 Message de: Imane Bakhellal

You and the guys are welcome, she says.

And yes, Lucas will be there

Eliott’s breath catches as he reads Imane’s message. We wasn’t going to ask— since he was under the assumption that wherever she ended up for New Year’s, Lucas would, too— but to have Imane know his motives leaves him feeling vulnerable and exposed. He tries to type out a response, Oh, that’s cool— then I was assuming he would be, you’re best friends after all— then I’m glad— but he erases every single one.

Vendredi 13:21 Message de: Imane Bakhellal

Listen, I know you try your hardest to make your, frankly, enormous crush on him on the down-low, but you’re not good at it

Vendredi 13:23

And I have reason to believe that he feels similarly

Vendredi 13:23

I’m not typically one to give unsolicited advice, but seeing you both pine after each other has gotten old

Vendredi 13:24

I convinced him to talk to you about it last time, but you were kind of wasted

Vendredi 13:25 Message à: Imane Bakhellal

You did?

Vendredi 13:25 Message de: Imane Bakhellal

I did

Vendredi 13:25

And even if that wasn’t a success, I’m sure having you lay against him for that disgrace of a movie was good consolation

-

The information is hitting him like a whirlwind. It nearly knocks him back with its force, and all he can do to brave it is clutch his phone to his chest, take deep breaths, and process the information that Imane has just given him. To vow to tell Lucas how he feels regardless of reciprocation was one thing— but to hear that Lucas could feel the same gives him a whole new sense of courage. Because even if Lucas doesn’t feel the same— which is less of a possibility than he thought, surprisingly enough— he needs to know, where it is that they stand. He needs to know if he’s been pining away senselessly or not.

---

When he arrives at Emma’s on the 31st, he has something resembling a plan, in his head. This time, he vows to not drink nearly as much as he had the last time, to keep his mind at least mostly clear. He tells Idriss and Sofiance his plan. All teasing from them aside, they promise that they’ll keep an eye on him, in the event that he starts to get a little carried away. He arrives, and he knows what he wants to do, what he wants to say.

But then he sees Lucas, and all of his planning goes out the window.

He watches him for a few moments, and then flees instinctively to another room.

Idriss scoffs when he comes into the room to find Eliott alone. “You’re useless.”

“I’m not,” He whines, “I’m just… nervous. And I don’t want to intrude on him, at least right away.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t mind.” He rolls his eyes at the way Idriss smirks at him. It only makes Idriss laugh at him, though.

“Hush. I just… Need to think.”

“Need to stall, more like. Eliott, listen— “ Idriss takes him by the shoulder, his face serious. “You’re going to go and talk to him, or I’m going to make you.” Normally with something like this, he would think Idriss was fucking with him— but this time, he’s not so sure.

“I’m going to, I swear.” And he is, he swears. If he doesn’t tell Lucas tonight, he doesn’t know what he’ll do— and he also doesn’t know when they’ll see each other next.

“You’re getting a New Year’s kiss this year, dude. I’m sure of it. You have until…” Idriss stops, to think for a moment. “11:50— if you haven’t talked to him by then, I will drag you two together myself, so help me.” 

“Okay, okay! You have my permission to do so.”

“I’m glad, but I wasn’t asking.”

He leaves them and roams around for the remainder of the party, chats with people here and there. Most of them bring up similar things as Idriss did— but Idriss is the only one he really believes.

Speak of the devil, he thinks, when he locks eyes with Idriss from across the room. He lifts up his arm, tapping his wrist— you’re running out of time— and Eliott checks his phone.

23:46, it reads.

He shoots Idriss a thumbs-up, and then sets off to find Lucas. He does without much trouble— Lucas is in the living room, chatting with his friends. When Lucas tosses his head back with laughter, Eliott’s reminded of the very first time he saw him— the way they bumped into each other on his very first day after transferring, the way Lucas hadn’t even noticed.

This time, though, Lucas notices.

“Eliott..” He says as he approaches, in a puff of air.

Arthur claps him on the shoulder in greeting. “Hey, dude!” Yann and Basile react similarly, and he greets them all, before returning his attention to Lucas.

“Can we talk?” This is a shot in the dark, a leap of faith. He expects an about what, or an in a minute, but instead, without missing a beat, Lucas simply says “Yeah.”

“On the balcony?” Eliott asks, gesturing to the door outside.

“Sure.” And so Eliott turns, and Lucas follows him out. It hits him, quite quickly, that he hadn’t thought this through— the winter air makes a chill run down his spine. “It’s cold.” He says, simply.

“Yeah.” Eliott agrees. “This shouldn’t take long, though.” Because he wants to keep things as short and straightforward as possible— despite the feelings that this involves, which are very much not. 

“It’s alright.” Lucas responds. Eliott takes a deep breath, to steady himself.

“I wanted to apologize. For last time.”

“Eliott, I told you, there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I know, but I still feel a bit bad about it. I wasn’t planning on getting that drunk.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Lucas’ smile is gentle, when he looks over. It makes Eliot go warm all over, despite the cold.

“That’s not the only thing I wanted to talk about, though.”

“Oh?” Lucas turns where they’re sat, facing him. Eliott pauses for a long moment, unsure of what to say, of where to start.

“I talked to Imane, the other day.” Or rather, Imane talked to him. He hadn’t contributed very much to their text conversation, really. “She told me about how she convinced you to come and talk to me.”

“‘Convinced,’ okay, Imane.” Lucas scoffs, air quotes accompanying the convinced.

“She also told me what she convinced you to talk to me about.” Eliott’s quiet, when he says it. Lucas’ expression falls.

“Oh.”

“I’ve heard it from her, and from Idriss—”

“Wait, Idriss?”

“Consequence of them being siblings, I guess.” He shrugs. “But I want to hear it from you.”

“Hear what?”

“I want to know how you feel, about me, from you. Not from anyone else.” They’re both quiet, now that it’s out in the open. “And I want to be able to tell you how I feel about you.” Eliott steals glances at Lucas, looks down, than at him again. 

“How do you feel about me?” Lucas asks, after a long time. Eliott’s hesitant, but there’s something in Lucas’ eyes, even in the dark of night, that makes him want to be honest.

“I loved you from the very first moment I saw you.” It feels as if he’s stopped breathing, as if they’ve suddenly teleported to the vacuum of space. There’s no sound, between them— there’s no anything, until Lucas speaks again.

“When was it? That party?”

“No,” He remembers the one that Lucas is referring to, though. The first time he had seen Lucas drunk— clumsy and free as he danced around with his friends. “I saw you on my very first day, in January.”

“You did? I didn’t see you.”

“I know.” But I saw you, he nearly says. He remembers that moment, too— them bumping into each other, and the way that he was completely unable to look away from him, as he continued down the hall with his friends.

“Wow.” When he looks over again, Lucas is smiling. It’s a small thing, a smile for himself. His heart swells. Then— “Imane was right, you know”— and now Eliott’s smiling, too?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” They’re looking at each other, now. It feels like he’s seeing Lucas anew, for the very first time. It’s beautiful. “What now?” Lucas asks, and he looks away for a brief moment, contemplating.

“Hmm,” He reaches over, taking Lucas’ hand gently in his own. “Now, we go on a date or two, live happily ever after, you know. The usual.” In reaction, Lucas laughs. It’s a soft sound, but it’s one he would give anything to keep hearing.

“Not a bad plan, if you ask me.” He leans in, without any hesitation this time, intent on far more than a quick kiss on the cheek— but Lucas pulls away, just as fast.

“Ah ah,” He tuts. “What kind of New Year's kiss would it be, if we didn’t wait for the countdown?”

“Lucas,” He whines, and Lucas laughs at him. He can’t help but smile, at the sound of it. “I just bared my soul to you.”

“Patience, Eliott.” Because he can’t resist, Eliott presses a kiss to the back of Lucas’ hand, as consolation. He loves the way Lucas’ breath catches, the way his eyes widen. Lucas blinks a few times, before moving to get up, pulling Eliott along with him. “You want another drink?”

“Just some water. I’m trying to make it through tonight hangover-free.” They go back inside, hand-in-hand, and their friends notice almost immediately. When Lucas’ friends do, he hides his face in Eliott’s chest. Eliott holds him there, keeps him close. Idriss notices, and Eliott shoots him another thumbs-up. 

Cheering erupts from the other side of the room, and Eliott quickly realizes that the countdown to the New Year has begun. 

Ten, he pushes Lucas away, just enough so that he can look at him. His breath catches, when he sees the way Lucas is looking at him, his eyes full of light.

Nine, as he looks around, he can see people coupling up, finding their partners. He can’t hide his grin, when he see that one of the pairs in question is Imane and Sofiane. 

Eight, he returns his focus to Lucas. When he looks at Eliott now, it’s through his long eyelashes, and it’s as if some sort of physical force is pulling him in.

Seven, he reaches up with his free hand to cup Lucas’ cheek. He lets himself run his fingers along Lucas’ jawline, reveling in the warmth of his flushed skin.

Six, he thinks about where he was, this time last year. About how he had just finished fighting with Lucile, how she had just stormed out. Now, though, he’s here, holding Lucas. Holding the boy that he’s been in love with for nearly a year.

Five, and Lucas is looking at him like he’s worth something, like he wants to kiss him just as badly as he wants to kiss Lucas.

Four, he feels Lucas’ hands come to rest at the small of his back, and he pulls them back in close again.

Three, they’re so close that their noses brush, that their foreheads touch.

Two, Lucas’ eyes are hooded, and Eliott watches as they close fully.

One, he leans in that last little bit, and—

As the crowd hits zero, they kiss. 

Kissing Lucas is like a dream, it’s so gentle and soft, but it makes his knees go weak with how badly he’s wanted this, how long he’s wanted it. They pull away, and all Eliott can do is to breathe out a wow. Lucas smiles up at him, and he’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful, that as the first moments of the new year pass them by, he can’t help kissing him again, and again, and again.