#add onto that the fact that I'd actually LIKE to hear their voices again and i think it'd be a valuable experience if it ever happened

[sincerely-sofie]

I'm not sure how weird of a question it would be to ask, or if it's one i should ask, but if you could choose to hallucinate one of them again without any kind of drawbacks just to talk with them, would you? And who would you talk to?

Not a weird question at all, and it's one I've actually asked myself a lot over the years! If I were able to hallucinate one of my old Brain Roommates™️ again, but without the intense anxiety that is required for me to hallucinate in the first place or the actual damage to my brain that hallucinations do, I'd be very, very interested in it. However, my answer for who I would speak to in this hypothetical scenario has changed throughout the years.

Originally, I wanted to talk to the Black Clock. He was the most consistently distressing hallucination, and was a sort of manifestation of my intense perfectionism and high standards for myself. I wanted to ask him if I was enough. It was a question that haunted me for years, and either answer scared me. If I was enough, then that meant I wasn't living up to my potential and that I was "sinful, irredeemable filth" according to the script I told myself back then. If I wasn't enough, then I didn't deserve anything good and I was an active blight on all that I loved, somehow. Nowadays I don't have anything to say to him. I'm enough for myself and I'm enough for God. The opinion of some misfiring synapses doesn't matter.

After that, I wanted to speak to the Red Woman. She expressed remorse after I found my first set of medications that partially stopped me from hallucinating, and she apologized for what she put me through and told me goodbye. I held her the night I took those medications while she cried and said she was scared to die. I never saw or heard from her again, at least as a hallucination. I wanted to tell her I forgave her and that I hoped she was okay, wherever she was. I don't have that same anxiety over the speculative mortality of the voices in my head anymore, so I wouldn't say I would want to talk to her again. There's not much point to it in my eyes. She hurt me and said she was sorry. That's a full sentence. I don't need to open it up for anything else.

Later on, I wanted to talk to the Lime Hands because, in a very bizarre exchange, he expressed to me he was depressed and didn't want to exist. I wanted to see if he was feeling any better, as strange as it was to ask that of a hallucination. Now, though, I hate that freak and make no apologies for what the dang thing put me through, and the only way I'd want to reunite with him is in some wonderland scenario where I could tangibly interact with him. And that's only because I'm punching that sucker's teeth in and breaking his pinky fingers.

As for the present day answer: If I were to choose any of my hallucinations to speak to without consequence, I think I'd like to speak to Doc Brown, or the Marigold Girl.

Doc Brown was the most cordial of the hallucinations and actually stepped in to advocate for me on occasion when the pain was really bad. I liked him a lot. He was a friend to me when I had very few people to talk to. We joked together and he gave me advice and words of comfort during some of the worst nights of my life. I think it'd be fun, in a very surreal way, to catch up with him— ask him how he's doing, how he's been, if he and the Marigold Girl are still buddies and if the Red Woman and him ever got over the hump of their flirtatious hatred for each other and actually became an item. It'd be a nice little send off to the guy. He was one of the first hallucinations I stopped experiencing, and his disappearance was very abrupt. I'd like to be able to say goodbye properly, thank him for his help, and smile and kindly say I hope I never see him again.

(also, the guy's whole shtick was anxiety over disease / contamination and the possibility of me infecting others with whatever bug I caught at the time. I stopped hallucinating him WAY before 2020 and I think he would lose his mind if I told him about COVID-19. That was his time to shine and he missed it. Poor thing.)

The Marigold Girl was a very difficult figure for me to handle when I was hallucinating. On the one hand, she was a lovely, if somewhat unsettling, little girl. She liked it when I read books and explained the plots to her. She always wanted to be held. She was scared of the dark. She adored my stuffed animals and would whisper to them while I was trying to sleep. I enjoyed being around her for the most part, but she was a very weepy hallucination, and the Black Clock would deal out punishment without fail whenever she cried— it was always my fault somehow, and so I suffered the consequences of her being a bit of a crybaby.

Looking back, I feel bad for her. She was a good kid, or at least as good of a kid as an unhealthy cocktail of neurochemicals in a weary brain can be. She once said she didn't want to cry all the time and wished she knew how to stop because I got in trouble because of it. I think it would be nice to comfort her and tell her it wasn't her fault that I'd be hurt. She couldn't control things anymore than I could back then.

I'd really like to show her the new stuffed animals I've collected over the years and read her one of the short stories I've written. I think she'd like Winter Came and Went if she didn't have to worry about the consequences of crying during the sad parts. She'd definitely enjoy Bibbidy Bee Goes to the Library. If possible, I'd like to ask what her favorite color is. I think she'd have a lot of fun answering, and I'd like being able to get to know this part of my psyche that was scared to let herself show any sadness for fear of hurting others with it.

[anaer]

wip wednesday (july 3 24)

the sukugo that snuck into my tojigo (no powers au, gojo's a freak) rating: hide your kids hide your wives

Satoru slides open the door and stops there, hands in his pocket painting a casual stance that belies the tension ready to snap at any moment. The asshole in front of him is on the phone, back to him, and doesn’t bother turning to see who’s entered.

“—not that hard to burn a house down, Uraume; just use gasoline. Get it done.”

Not paying any mind to the exchange, Satoru speaks. “Put me down for the next fight.” It’s not a request. His voice croaks a little, though, still not fully recovered.

That catches Sukuna’s attention. He doesn’t finish his conversation, hangs up mid-word as he turns to look at him, and the irritated look on his tattooed face turns into a semi-deserved sneer. “Gojo Satoru. You look surprisingly pathetic.”

Satoru expects the laugh, offers the smile still pinned on his own face and a noncommittal shrug. “Not too pathetic to kick your ass again.”

The sneer, for just a second, slips into a scowl before Sukuna catches himself and chooses to ignore the slight. “Close the door,” he says instead. Satoru marks that down for the win it is and steps in the rest of the way, shutting the door behind him.

“Well?” he demands.

Sukuna stalks towards him, all wide shoulders and broad muscle that puts Satoru to shame. There’s not many people he encounters bigger than him, but it’s not as intimidating as Sukuna would like it to be. He stops in front of him, and Satoru tilts his head up a fraction. A hand slides through his hair, grips, and yanks his head back. His smile widens.

“Gojo Satoru,” Sukuna repeats. “I banned you for a reason.”

Satoru laughs. “Then kick me out.”

The kiss is expected, nothing but violence as lips slam into his. Sukuna’s hand leaves his hair, covers the bruises Toji left on his still tender neck, and Satoru finds his back slammed against the wall. He doesn’t fight it.

“In fact,” Sukuna continues, “I believe I warned you what I would do to you if you dared show your face here again.”

“Oh, still mad?” His smile is all teeth, breathy and unbothered. “So you got arrested one time. I always knew you were the type to hold onto a petty grudge.” He’s picking a fight and they both know it. The question is if Sukuna is in the mood to indulge him. The fingers tightening around his throat tell Satoru he is.

“I told you I'd tear you apart piece by piece.”

“Fun,” Satoru returns. Goading, especially as he adds, “I could’ve actually destroyed you if I’d wanted to.” Each word is barely a sound out of his throat.

He shoves Sukuna away from him, and the man stumbles back a step. Satoru is on him again then, a fistful of Sukuna’s hair in each hand as he smashes their faces together again, laughing as they kiss, as he tries to drag him towards the couch on the other side of the office. They grapple the whole way there, jabs and punches exchanged between them, elbows thrown. Satoru headbutts Sukuna, gets backhanded in return, and the bruise Toji left on his face, the memory of that gun, aches exactly right. The pain satisfies something finally, fills a small crack in the chasm inside him, and he laughs some more.

It ends like it always does between them. Both bruised and sore, heaving from exertion. Satoru is pinned, on his knees bent over the arm of the couch, Sukuna pressed close behind. One hand is on his head, holding his face into the cushion, and he feels more than hears the hand underneath him undoing his belt. It slides free, just for that too hot hand to yank his jeans down his hips, to slide his shirt up his body.

Satoru swallows. It’s not…fear, not exactly. That’s not the right word. Satoru fears very little (the only thing he actually fears is himself). His mouth is dry, though, heart beating too fast and not at all simultaneously as white knuckles clench tight around the edge of the seat. Leather brushes his side, and he flinches, can’t help it. Sukuna’s mean laugh meets him in response. He’s too wired to even react to that, too wound up with anticipation. There’s no bleeding out this tension. Not until he actually bleeds.

“Don’t move,” Sukuna says, and for once, Satoru listens.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Riddle me what now?

Coming in just under the wire for @taznovembercelebration - today's prompt card was "missing piece" and it's short and silly.

Read below or on Ao3

-

"Hey, Krav, the guy came back in." Says Barry, like they don't work in a shop, like they don't see literally every guy in the world all day long every single day.

"Oh, okay, the guy, sure." Kravitz rolls his eyes to make sure Barry is aware he's taking the piss.

"You know the one, The Guy, not A Guy."

Kravitz looks at Barry as blankly as that statement deserves.

Barry huffs and adds, "the one with the hair!" As if that's a helpful fact, something useful to really help Kravitz nail down the mysterious guy's identity.

"Did he also have a face?" Kravitz asks sweetly.

"Fuck off, I'm trying to help you. He was the one you liked, with the stupid name."

Oh. It was Taako. Taako came back?

"He asked for you. Well, he asked for 'the goth hottie' so I'm making some assumptions, but you know." Barry gestures to himself and his work juniform. Kravitz still has no idea how Barry conned Kravitz into agreeing to the japron. "I'm assuming it wasn't me."

Kravitz finishes retying his sensible, stylish, black apron and picks up his black gouge. Out of the two of them there was no competition as to who fit the description. Kravitz, gothily, hotly (according to Taako), examines the train he's working on so he can concentrate on something that isn't this conversation. If he's busy then Barry won't be able to tell exactly how interested he is to hear that Taako thinks he's attractive.

"Oh?" Says Kravitz, all cool and unbothered, giving nothing away.

"And I know you thought he was really hot too, you know, with all the staring you did, and the thing your face is doing right now."

Fuck.

"Er... I... Nuh uh!" Kravitz says, seamlessly refuting Barry's wild accusations.

"So I got his number for you." He says brightly. A small ball of paper bounces off the side of Kravitz's head and lands next to his tools. "There you go!"

"You got his number for me for...?" Kravitz peters out before he can say anything he can't live down, finishing the sentence with 'sex purposes' is exactly what his brain wants him to do and is therefore likely to be a terrible idea.

"What do you mean?" Barry's doing his smug voice which means he knows exactly what Kravitz means and he's torturing him.

"For... You know... Business purposes?" There he did it.

"What else would it be for, bud?" Barry asks sweetly, flipping his conversational trap card. "You said you didn't find him attractive so I assume you wouldn't want it for anything but business reasons."

Was Barry actually going to make him say it with his actual mouth? Kravitz chanced a look over to Barry's work station, he was working intently on the 3d fire puzzle commission, pretending he wasn't invested in getting himself knee deep in Kravitz's love life.

Kravitz unscrumpled the paper on his desk.

"Text me maybe?" Was scrawled next to a number, underneath was Kravitz favourite part "Taako xoxo." That surely couldn't be business kissed, Kravitz read it twice and it definitely wasn't purely professional.

"I'm going to text him." Announces Kravitz.

"Great!" Barry says too quickly. "Just, er, just as an aside, totally separate to whether you and Taako should be dating or not, here." Barry leans over and drops something onto Kravitz's desk. "This is the missing piece of the puzzle he's looking for."

"Barry!"

"Well you were both clearly into each other and neither of you were going to do anything about it. I fixed it." He sounds unnecessarily pleased with himself.

"You took a piece from a finished product so that I'd be better able to hit on a customer?"

"Well when you put it like that it sounds bad..." Barry sounds genuinely upset.

Kravitz sighs. "You can never pull this stunt again, it'll tank our reviews."

"Aye aye cap'n." Barry salutes happily.

Kravitz starts drafting an apology text.

-

I hope you enjoyed! You can catch the next prompt here.

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR rambles PT 4

Over explaining the decisions in my own comic once again. UwU

Smth fun about these pages is ZELDA. My lady.

Something I'm not sure was how well this portrayed that this was shortly after they put the sword back (like maybe a year at most?)

I kind of like to think for FSR at least, they were all around 13-15 during the events of the manga (This isn't my opinion tbh, though in the bonus pages they buy child tickets for the theme park so they aren't canonically adults.)

Link's old enough to drink in FSR so he's at least 21.

(I've never really liked the idea they're YOUNG kids during FS it just lends itself better to FSR specifically. I really write them however old I want for whatever scenario I'm writing because Link's as fluid as a Vocaloid when it comes to making fan works and cannon is my bitch. Writing them as adults during the events of the manga usually lends itself to MORE writing opportunities but not for FSR. I don't really give a shit what other people decide to do when making fan works either.)

You'd also notice the 7 years it takes FS Link to pull the sword is a reference to the seven years Link misses during OOT.

Anyways onto the page itself: Zelda's a sweet girl who cares deeply about her childhood friend. Link means a lot to her and she makes time for him. He waits for her too. Zelink shippers I got you lol.

Something I always found WEIRD was how Link doesn't talk in the pages after he reformed. That's so odd to me. The fan "theory" It's basically cannon in BOTW/TOTK at least Link's selectively mute. That Link's mute is also something I took inspiration for FSR Link.

So Link doesn't respond to Zelda verbally but she still makes the effort to talk to him.

Shadow Link is very disapointed he can't get hugged by the princess. Because as he stated earlier in the comic he loves her. Zelda addressed him too so she tries to include him.

This page shows off just how gradual the curse was: So funny enough at the START of the comic it was actually going to be explained how Link utterly deteriorated but I decided to add that later. (Wanted to get to funny shenanigans with the boys so I put it off)

It started with him just hearing whispers, then full voices then the what I call "Headspace" fully appeared.

Blue mentions liking Zelda's hugs Haha "Where's my hug???"

Vio just says Zelda's name, Vio's relationship with Zelda is something I'd love to expand upon later down the line.

Green's more focused on food oof.

Red's just happy to see Zelda.

Green was right about being hungry, so Zelda invites him over for DINNER-

Shadow Link's still just vibing.

Zelda lifting Link up in this panel just shows she's there for him.

Link is just dealing with the fact he can hear them by himself. Also dad is still alive.

Lol he's actually making his dad proud which was something he didn't do often before the OG book.

Zelda hanging out with Link and his father kind of shows them as a family.

Shadow Laughing in the bg but he's away from the rest.

So the captain died in a fight, and Link blames himself for it because he can't think straight when there's 4 people constantly talking.

Daddy's demise was really the start of the snowballing downhill for him.

Lol. So Vio's daddy issues are apparent for the SECOND time in the comic. He was uncomfortable even bringing up Link's dad before and this is partially the reason why:

Vio's the only one not crying or overtly emotional about their dad dying.

But something to consider is if he's truly talking to Link or himself in that panel. Because the man is still SHOOK. We have the liberty of SEEING Vio here, but Link doesn't.

So he takes this statement very poorly because:

Well, Vio's seeming "no shits given" attitude is unsettling enough coming from an outside source but that IS apart of Link.

A part of him, seemingly doesn't care his own father kicked the bucket and that's scary to him.

I think anybody would have lost it at this point.

Too bad Zelda saw Link screaming his lungs out at his father's grave lmao. Poor man.

Bro can't do anything but plead for Zelda to help him at this point. She's really the only person he feels he can turn too anyway.

Our girl comes in clutch with them hugs.

This was the conformation Link was actually not speaking in the comic Felt like I had to outright state it cause I wasn't sure if people would notice it otherwise.

Something I REALLY wish was a thing in Zelda manga:

Zelda and Link BOTH lose their parents. Usually their mothers.

And we never get any sort of bonding over that. And I find that a complete waste of potential.

I'd like to dive further into that with FSR or some other Zelda work I do because: HOLY SHIT THEY COULD BOND OVER THEIR LOST PARENTS????

Also Zelda's unfortunate phrasing here with "You can talk to me" she means just, that he can confide in her in general lol.

He's still struggling to actually speak. Poor guy.

While keeping him from doing knight duties kept him PHYSICALLY safe it was just another thing he lost to the curse Vaati laid on him.

So the obvious: Zelda had to watch the person she cares about most completely fall apart before her eyes and she couldn't do shit.

They weren't even aware this WAS A CURSE from Vaati mind you. They were completely in the dark trying to solve this.

Something horrific about this situation you might have also considered:

Not only did Zelda have to watch Link deteriorate but so did Shadow Link.

Shadow Link couldn't even offer much comfort. Zelda could offer physical comfort and attempt emotional comfort but Shadow was completely fucked.

And with the new context of "Link was mostly mute" the fact he wasn't actively TALKING to Shadow Link makes a lot more sense.

Still didn't make that fact any less painful in the moment.

Shadow literally could not participate, was isolated and lonely and had to watch someone else slowly get isolated and lonely and couldn't even help.

Link and Shadow Link literally felt the same way and could not help each other even though they were right next to each other all that time.

Also with the new context of what Link was going through, Shadow's persistence to be there for Vio starts to make a whole lot more sense: He can actually DO something now.

Vio's just stating the obvious at this point and his broken record nature really pissed Link off.

I'm sure you noticed what he wore color wise matched his emotions lol.

Vio technically is 100% right: They think Gannon is in the sword. It would literally be INSANE to pull it knowing that.

But Link's kinda at the point of not giving a shit.

Zelda would get hurt no matter what his "solution" to the problem ended up being.

Shadow Link trying to cheer Link up by reminding him he's there is so sad. Mghhhh

And for the first time in the flashback we actually have Link fully acknowledge Shadow Link's presence.

Vio was outright in denial the man was still alive and didn't want to acknowledge his existence so Link fully embracing Shadow Link here was a big moment between the two of them.

Shadow Link started to figure out what the man was planning but couldn't do squat about it. (He also couldn't communicate with the 4 or HEAR THEM.)

Link shows up in the head space! :D

His words imply he wasn't SURE he could properly communicate with Green like this alone...Which is no surprise considering Vio thinks how odd it is they were able to do that in the first place.

I kinda scrambled to think of what to have him look like hah. Ended up with him wearing white. Since white is the lack of color, white reflects all wavelengths of light so it literally kinda REJECTS color. (Apposed to Black which absorbs light, which funny enough his pants are black...)

And it symbolizes rebirth, peace stuff like that.

It can also symbolize death but we're ignoring that one lmao.

His nails are all the colors + Shadow Link too.

Lmfao when you gaslight yourself.

Okay in all seriousness the Link lays down just how DIRE the situation is since the other 3 don't seem to be quite aware.

And the "Promise" Green made to Link is what had Green so shook at the start of the comic for.

And the weight of the line "Can I trust you?" really sinks in as we'll see.

Link's kinda spooky haha. You can tell he wasn't sure Green was going to help him but that's quickly overtaken by how overjoyed he is Green is for sure on board.

One of my favorite panels from this batch is how happy he is. He's so relived he can finally just rest.

Green can't though. The crushing weight of keeping everything "Okay" is a heavy burden to bare and Dark Link spits those words right back into Green's face, and just holds him.

Green doesn't seem to hate the hug as much as Vio did hah.

Green doesn't even seem to acknowledge his presence while Vio not only NOTICED but was actively terrified of him to the point of trying to grab his sword.

He also mocked Vio more throwing Vio's own words back in his face, but just repeats what Link said to Green.

How. Odd.

And that's all for this batch. Hope ya come back to read my rumbly thoughts about my own comic.

[seacottons]

[ idol!au ] — ateez x 7/11 employee reader

notes: this is so fucking stupid i'm cackling. some are based on their vlogs : minkiway, achallenz, ateezlog, and 1day vlog.

— hongjoong

"Let's get the strawberry yogurt smoothie."

"But we already got too many custard and pudding cups?"

"Do you want San to mope for the next two days?"

"No?"

"Alright then. So, get the yogurt smoothie."

You hear the commotion and bickering before even spotting the two, a faint smile finding itself onto your features. You most definitely weren't eavesdropping. Their bickering was audible throughout the entire expanse of the small store, and you finally peered up from organizing the display of flavored gum to spot the smaller of the two give the taller an exasperated expression.

"You know I don't like spicy! Why would you even suggest that, you bum?"

"You asked for my opinion, Joong," Seonghwa rolls his eyes, gaze locking with yours in the process. A knowing smile crawls its way onto his visage for a brief second, before it's replaced with a faux look of concern, "Oh! Y/n! Why don't you suggest something new for Hongjoong to try out?"

At the sound of your name being called, the smaller male stiffens considerably, hand nearly loosening around the packet of kimbap in his hands. With a suspicious glare, his head instantly snaps to his friend, who in return sent a friendly smile towards you. Seonghwa nearly laughed at the flustered male in his peripheral vision, before nodding in acknowledgment towards you once you made yourself towards the aisle. Hongjoong helplessly watched as you conversed with Seonghwa, your laughter ringing in his ears like soft, melodious chimes.

The tips of Hongjoong's ears burned red, his hand subconsciously reaching up several times to tussle his tresses and hide the obvious signs of his infatuation and nervousness. Seonghwa's eyes glimmered with mischief as they briefly darted to eye his sweating comrade.

"I really like this one," you picked up a warm pack of the spicy cheese kimbap to offer them a look, your eyes flickering to Hongjoong immediately, "But you don't like anything spicy, right Hong-"

"I'll take it!"

Seonghwa merely casts him a look of surprise, and Hongjoong almost stutters as the taller scrutinizes him. Was he that obvious?

"I've actually been enjoying spicy food for the past few weeks," he claims defensively, shoulders straightening and frame subconsciously leaning towards your own as he quickly picks up a conversation with you, cheeks red and lips tugged up into a jaw-breaking smile.

When the two step out of the small convenience store, plastic bags in hand, Seonghwa waste no millisecond to address the elephant in the room, tone complacent and all.

"You're whipped."

— seonghwa

You stare at the blue cart filled to the brim with yogurt cups, and you give the tall male a puzzled look. You were accustomed to having the eight men from upstairs purchase an abundance of food, from dried goods to ready-to-eat meals, but this was new.

"Seonghwa, is this really for all eight of you? Just.. yogurt," you mused curiously, hesitant hands reaching towards the yogurt cups to begin scanning and bagging them.

"Yes and no," he offers a soft smile, hands reaching towards the number candle display, rolling it to the side in search of the desired numbers. He places a number 2 and 3 onto the counter, and you're even more confused than before, "It's for Hongjoong's cake. His birthday is today."

"Then why do you need the yogurt?"

"The yogurt is the cake."

Your lips form a silent 'oh' as you nodded absentmindedly. The two of you share a moment of silence, before your shared laughter erupts throughout the convenience store.

"How thoughtful of you, Hwa," you drawl out teasingly, gaze unwavering from his chiseled face, "That's cute. I bet he'll love it."

Seonghwa nods silently, a polite smile brightening his features as he helps you with the items and bags, insisting he'll pack up the yogurt while you scan. He had a habit of always needing to help and making sure he wasn't being too much of a bother. His head snaps up once you call his name for nth time, and a faint dusting of pink blooms on his facial features as he meets your gaze, "Oh. Sorry, did you call me?"

You giggle lightheartedly as you finalize the amount of his purchase, eyes curiously meeting his, "If you were to pick a non-traditional birthday cake, what would it be?"

"Ah, tteokbokki," he states without a second to lose, eyes sparkling underneath the fluorescent lights of the store, "it will definitely be tteokbokki."

"When the time comes, I'll gladly make you a tteokbokki birthday cake," you accept the cash from his hands, before closing the cash register with a bump of your hip, hands working on tying the two plastic bags filled with yogurt cups, "I mean- of course, if you don't mind that is?"

A bashful smile nearly breaks his face into two as he accepts the bags, hands purposefully brushing against your knuckles a second too long as he nearly laughs in amusement at your nervous smile, "I'd love that, Y/n."

— yunho

You wrap the damp rag around your lithe finger to wipe around the buttons and crevices of the dusty cash register. Once it was practically sparkling, you decided to wipe away at the glass fridge displays, roughly rubbing the stubborn fingerprints that remained on the surface.

The doorbell chimed, and from where you stood, you were unable to see the customer that had just walked in. The sound of a group of males pierced the silence of the store, along with the rumbling of the vending machines in the corner. Nevertheless, you called out with a warm welcome and hastily wiped the last of the few glass doors. Your co-worker was supposed to be here minutes ago, while you were slaving around cleaning the place all on your own and dealing with customers simultaneously.

Removing your gloves, you internally grumbled at the fact your co-worker was late from lunch for the third time this same week. Stomping your way towards the cash register you failed to remember to add a wet-floor sign onto the area you had just mopped, utterly forgetting about the whole ordeal as you made yourself to the front of the store. As you turned the corner, your sneakers skidded loudly against the slippery tiles, your frame instantly thrown off balance as a clipped yelp left your mouth, hands bracing in front of your face to shield it from any damage.

It took a few seconds for you to realize a pair of arms were secured around your waist, and you silently gaped at the male above you with a stupefied expression.

Of course, it had to be him.

The very same man you've been crushing on for a few months now. The very same man who worked three stories above you.

Yunho was so graceful for someone so tall.

"Oh, thanks," he laughed in amusement at your shocked expression, your hands reaching up to clamp around your mouth in horror, "Are you okay though? You... uh, you should put a wet-floor sign. Wouldn't want anyone suing you for falling, now would you?"

Heaven knows you were never more thankful for your co-worker being late again than ever before. You were so close to him, you can practically smell the cologne sprayed on his neck.

"No! No, of course not! I'll get it right away!"

When you scurry from his arms and to the back to rummage in the closet, Wooyoung's voice and laughter ring out loudly behind you.

"But you fall harder every time we come here! Just sue Y/n alread—" a muffled sound of a punch and a loud squeal of pain followed suit, "Ow! Hulk hands! What was that for!?"

— yeosang

In the late hours of the evening, you found yourself guiding Yeosang through the aisles of the convenience store for a mission he had to complete for a series they were filming. When you spotted no cameras around, you sighed in relief.

"You know you're cheating, right?" You ask as the male crouches down to examine the array of rice balls and other food on display.

"There are no cameras here. No one will know."

You pause momentarily to glance at the security camera nestled in the corner, before rolling your eyes and crouching next to him to aid him in his task. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. Yeosang has come down to the store numerous times to grab items for the vlogs he filmed. One time it was utensils and a bowl, and the other time was an abundance of gummy bears.

"I can't believe you're making me do this for you," you laugh in disbelief as he stands to watch you look around for a particular item.

"You know what my members like more than I do," he muses with a soft smile, "they practically live here."

"Yeosang," you called out with a quirk of your brow, "you live with them. If anyone's capable, it's you."

"I know. I still need your help though."

You internally sigh and get to work, not that you minded in the slightest. Your heart was practically hammering out of your chest the moment he stepped foot inside the store.

"The guys usually get this pack of ramyun almost every visit, along with this rice ball," you arrange the food in his cart, before dragging him into another aisle, "We also got this new shipment of honey rice cakes- I'm sure Seonghwa will like them. He usually prefers the older types of snacks. Wait. Do you need Mingi's diarrhea medicine too?" You joke with a lighthearted laugh.

Yeosang gives you a grimace, and his judging eyes study you for a second too long that has your neck and ears heating up rapidly, "No, Y/n. Mingi's digestive system is doing just fine now.."

Yeosang nods absentmindedly as he's dragged to and fro from one aisle to the next, unable to focus on the words that come flying rapidly from your mouth "..And Hongjoong always tries new potato chips every time he visits, but these are his favorite, I can tell. San likes anything sweet. If there's no more yogurt smoothies left, just get a chocolate bar."

You peer at Yeosang who remained silent the entire time, his unfocused gaze trained on you. With a snap of your fingers in front of his face, he startles at the sudden sound, eyes wide and darting rapidly in confusion, "Oh! Sorry, Y/n. I got distracted there. Did you say something?"

"Cute," you laugh airily at his flustered expression, thumb jutting behind you towards the drink display, "I almost forgot the most important item- coke! You guys are the reason it's always out of stock here."

Taking a look at the clock above the door, you gawp in disbelief as you wait for the male to fish out his wallet, "Yeo, you've been here for the past half hour. They're going to think you got lost."

"No, that's alright," Yeosang mumbles as he hands you a sufficient amount of cash for the items, eyes looking anywhere but your face, "We should do this again sometime."

"Hm," you glance back up at him questioningly, "Sure. Whenever your next challenge is, I suppose. I don't mind helping."

He reaches up to awkwardly scratch his neck, lips pressing together into a firm line before he has the courage to meet your eyes and reply, "Oh- no. I meant.. on our own free time. No challenge. Just us two. Hanging out? Buying snacks?"

You almost stumble over yourself at his words, hands clammy and face burning. Nodding subtly, you fail to realize the goofy, flirtatious smile settling on your face as you hand him the receipt.

"Challenge accepted."

— san

"And they said it tastes like toothpaste! Can you believe them?"

You reached out to pat a hand onto the taller male's back in a caring manner, nodding when he asked you how ridiculous the other members' statements were.

"Yes, of course," you console him as you carefully organized the new shipment of chocolate bars on display, allowing the male to vent to you in the aisles of the convenience store he frequently visited from upstairs. He's also been trying to persuade you to join his mint chocolate cult for the past two weeks now.

"Mint chocolate doesn't taste like toothpaste! Toothpaste tastes like mint chocolate," San brushes a hand through his pink locks, eyeing you for a reply in agreement. You think he only came down here not only to vent, but to also fuel his ego by finding another person to agree with his statements and judge his friends' taste in food- other than Mingi, of course, "don't you agree?"

You nearly laugh at the awaiting gaze that overtakes his features. He was very serious about this topic, so it was safe to assume his older friends bashed the flavor to the point San took it almost personally, "Yes, San. For the hundredth time, mint and chocolate are the perfect pair. They're like.. peanut butter and jelly. Cheese and corn. Strawberries and bananas. And-"

"Me and you."

You think you hear wrong as he quickly dashes towards the ice cream freezer to grab a handful of mint chocolate ice cream pints.

"What?"

"Hm?" he has the audacity to tilt his head in amusement, eyes practically twinkling with mischief, "What's the matter, Y/n?"

How dare he fluster you like this. Your jaw is slack as he walks back over to you with the same, bright smile and dimple on display. The words nearly die in your throat as he looms over you with a look of mock curiosity and innocence, "N-nothing, uh- do you want me to check you out?"

"You're more than welcome to anytime, Y/n. No need to ask."

His smile stretches in amusement as your eyes widen in shock. He knew what he was doing to you. You choked out a response, nodding your head as you made yourself over to the register counter.

Once placing the ice cream pints and eight plastic spoons in the bag, you handed it to the bubblegum haired male, whose eyes crinkled happily, "No need to be shy, Y/n. Sometimes, all you need is," he reached over to press the tip of your nose back with the pad of his finger, "encourage-mint."

His laughter rung like the bell chime that signaled his departure, and before he turned the corner to go back to the entertainment building upstairs, he sent you a quick and mischievous wink.

— mingi

The steam from your ramyun cup swirled up to meet the cold air as you sat alone in front of the convenience store for your lunch break. You watched as people scuttled through the streets in an attempt to avoid the light misting of rain. The cup of steaming noodles helped warm your hands though, and the store awning provided enough shelter from the rain.

Taking a generous amount of noodles in your mouth, you slightly wince at the searing temperature on your lips.

"Y/n? What're you doing out here?"

A voice caught your attention, and your head snaps up to meet the eyes of the well-dressed male standing nearby with a to-go bag in hand. You stare with stuffed cheeks and wide eyes, quickly ducking your head to drop the remaining noodles hanging from your lips back into the steaming cup. You don't know why he's asking a question like that. He, along with the others, have numerously visited the store or were nearby when you were on your lunch break. Even Yunho memorized your lunch schedule throughout the week.

"Mingi! Hi-" you cough out suddenly, hand quickly reaching up to wipe the sauce from your lips. He makes his way over to where you're sitting, before plopping beside you and proceeding to open the bag in his hands. You give him a questioning look, and when he feels his eyes on you, he turns to you with a smile.

"You don't mind if I eat lunch with you, yeah?" He snaps his chopsticks apart and gives you a hopeful look, "You just seem all bored and lonely by yourself."

You stare flabbergasted at his words, before shaking your head almost too quickly after a moment of silence. You didn't mind the lack of company actually, but Mingi was too sweet for you to deny, "No, of course not. But it's okay, you don't have to-"

"One doesn't let their friend eat all alone," he simpers, before eyeing his styrofoam box and thrusting it in front of you, "Here! You should try some barbecue eel. It's perfect for this kind of weather."

The two of you spent the next half hour conversing and stuffing your mouths full of food he had gotten from his mother's restaurant. His eyes sparkled once you complimented his mother's cooking skills, and a contagious smile found itself on his visage as you asked for the name of the place. He slurped another strand of noodle into his mouth before boisterously replying with a raised brows and a bright smile.

"I'll see if I'll have time this weekend to visit it," you accepted the napkin he offered you to wipe your mouth, before crumbling it and tidying up the area. He stands to discard the empty boxes of food and bags before checking the time on his phone.

"I'd love to spend more time with you, but Hongjoong will have my ass if I don't go back in time," he laughs loudly while dusting his clothes to rid himself of any fallen crumb, "Oh! Here's a card for my mother's restaurant! I always carry some with me wherever I go."

You accepted it with a grateful smile, brows knitting in confusion at the numbers scribbled on the corner of the small business card, "Oh, there's a number here? Is it their new number?"

"It's mine," he says while patting your head with a cheeky smile, "Next time, we should eat together there— where it's warm and not out here in the freezing cold."

You gape in awe at him, face flushing almost immediately. Mingi smiles, internally reminding himself to thank Yunho for the idea later.

— wooyoung

"Y/n! I can't believe you betrayed me like this!?"

Peeking your head up curiously, you quirked a brow in the direction of the heaving male, "What are you talking about?"

You place the last stack of cash into the register before closing it shut. The display of candy near the register needed organizing, and you sigh to yourself before you begin working on it. His friends stand outside, in front of the store, conversing amongst each other as they waited for him to finish grabbing 'something extremely important'.

Your friend nearly reached over the counter to shake you by your shoulders with an exasperated cry of anguish, "You told me you'll save me at least one of the BTS cold brew bottles! They're all sold out! Again!"

Oh. Of course that was the problem.

You roll your eyes at his dramatic rant, elbows resting onto the counter as you leaned forward teasingly. You were grateful no one else was in the store while Wooyoung had his meltdown. He would've probably frightened them anyway.

"I told you when the new shipment comes in to save me each version of them!"

"Wooyoung- it's just canned americano. We have plenty more brands to tr-"

"No! It has BTS on the packaging!" He explains quickly, "Don't you realize it's a godsend to have packaged food and drinks with their faces on it!?"

"You're going to throw the packaging away anyway! What's the point?" Your unimpressed face studies his in confusion. Internally, you smile to yourself at his frustrated tone. You love to rile him up.

When you were met with silence, you scrunched your nose in distaste, arms crossing in front of your chest defensively. He looks a bit flustered at your gaze, shoulders shrugging silently.

"Gross! Wooyoung, were you seriously planning on keeping and collecting them? Aren't you overdoing it?"

He lets out an indignant squawk and pins you with a pointed stare, which you returned with a blank blinking of your eyes.

"I don't tell you how to live."

Rolling your eyes, you turn to rummage through your bag tucked beneath the counter, before fishing out two cans of the americano. Wooyoung's eyes open wide in astonishment.

"You're lucky I remembered. My manager only let me buy two."

"Y/n?" He scrambles to the counter to take a good look at the cans, before he finds himself tugging you forward by your head with a loud cry of excitement, to which you groaned in protest, "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

Your face flushes at the close proximity and when the bell chimes signaling a new customer, your heart drops to your stomach in fright. You did not need anyone witnessing this. Wooyoung's grip was relentless as he squeezed your cheeks together and continued to praise you for being the most trustworthy person he knows.

"Wooyoung, how many times have I told you harassing someone isn't the way to express your feelings," Hongjoong's annoyed voice calls out from the front.

— jongho

You attempted to remain inconspicuous as you huddled over your phone over the counter, eyes glued onto the screen displaying the current live video. You swore you could hear their rackety footsteps and shouts from three stories below. You wouldn't be surprised if one of them came crashing down from the ceiling one day. An infatuated sigh and droopy smile tugged at your lips as you leaned your cheek against your palm.

A few minutes later, you had to mute your phone to attend a customer ( because heaven knows how loud and rowdy they get when they're all together. And you didn't need their argument about butts to blast out throughout the store ). To your displeasure, another few came strolling in. You wanted to groan in frustration at their impeccable timing. Of course, Ateez would start a live during your shift, and of course customers came flocking in as if the convenience store was suddenly a magnet.

By now, you've missed a good portion of the live, and some of the customers gave you wary looks as you trembled to hastily bag every item they purchased. You nearly ripped the register out in the process of your haste.

You thought it was finally the last of the burdensome customers, when a handful of bags of chips, ice cream pints, and ramyun cups were placed onto the counter. Sighing subtly, you glance up to give the customer a fake smile, only to gape as the male across from you has his eyes set onto your phone screen.

You feel the force of heat rush to your face like a volcano spitting out molten magma, and with a noise between a strangled gasp and cry, your hand quickly slams on top of your phone to shield the screen and hopefully save the last bit of dignity left in your system. You gripped it against your chest with a panicked grin, and his eyes flickered down and then back up to meet your own.

The last thing you wanted was for the boys to know you keep tab of their activities and projects. You were just supposed to be the friendly clerk downstairs. You muster up the energy to not feel too affected by the questioning stare the other is giving you.

"Well," the male chuckles at your perplexed and flustered expression, "I've caught you red handed, Y/n."

Your smile falters at the accusation.

"It's not what it looks like. It just popped up from my notifications- I wasn't even-"

"Hey, hey!" He suddenly quips playfully, arms out in front of him in defense, "No need to be so defensive. So, I take it you were lying when you said you weren't an Atiny?"

Your silence was a dead giveaway, and his smile only grew wider as you attempted to shrink into yourself.

"Who's your bias?" He tried again, and you laughed it off, quickly changing the topic by asking him how many napkins and spoons he needed for the ice cream. He reached a hand up to brush the red bangs from his eyes, before looming over the register a bit suspiciously. When your head snaps up to give him a look of confusion, his attention is suddenly drawn to the gas medicine displayed on the counter. You sigh in relief as you hand him the bags before wishing him a good rest of the day.

"Y/n?"

Before he bid you farewell from the door, he waved a hand up, mischievous smile plying at his lips, "Nice photocard you have there on your phone."

Your eyes glance down immediately to your device resting on the counter, breath leaving your lungs in embarrassment as the same red-head smiles back at you from your phone. Jongho's laughter can still be heard from outside even with the door shut, and you suddenly wish the floor will swallow you up to save the remaining crumb of dignity you had left.

[harmonizingsunsets]

It might be foolish, but you got me all soft

Read on Archive here.

Kate's nose crinkles as she watches Penelope and Colin. Their feet dance with one another underneath the table. He leans over, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Their smiles are brighter than the fluorescent lights of the coffee shop. Watching them is almost blinding.

"You guys are so cute," Kate observes with puckered lips. "I hate that."

Penelope turns to Kate with a bemused expression. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Love isn't the word coming to mind. Nauseated is more like it."

"Kate, everyone finds us adorable," Colin insists, wrapping an arm around Penelope. "It's not a matter of opinion. It's just a fact."

"I'm happy for you two. Honestly, I am. But you're acting so lovey-dovey and sweet that it makes my teeth ache," Kate jokes, picking up her coffee for a sip.

"If we make your teeth ache, then you and Anthony cause cavities," Colin mutters.

Kate chokes a little on her mocha, causing a few patrons to give her odd looks.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin, we talked about this," Penelope says through gritted teeth, shooting him a disapproving look.

"No, you talked about how we weren't supposed to say anything because they're both so jumpy about it, but I disagreed," Colin protests. "Someone needs to open their eyes."

"Hello, I'm still right in front of you," Kate says, waving her hands at them. "Open my eyes to what?"

Colin and Penelope argue with their eyes for a few moments before Penelope cracks, nodding. Colin turns to Kate with a sly grin.

"That you're in love with my brother."

It was a good thing she wasn't drinking that time, or she'd have to spit her coffee all over them. Although, perhaps a spritz of hot coffee would wipe the amusement off of Colin's face.

Kate feels her cheeks heat. She opens her mouth, but only incomprehensible protesting sounds come out.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Colin says, his smile turning softer. "He loves you too."

"That is not true," Kate insists, standing up straighter in her chair. "I don't love him, and he certainly doesn't love me. Right, Penelope?"

When Kate turns to Penelope, the friend she usually can rely on for back-up is instead chewing her lower lip.

"Well...."

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, but Kate, Colin's right," Penelope says, the words rushing out guiltily. "I write romance books for a living. I know the enemies to lovers trope very well, and you two embody it."

"That's ridiculous!" Kate exclaims, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "We drive each other crazy. I mean, we've become better friends over the past few months—but it's not like that."

Penelope tilts her head. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

A hundred reasons that Kate could never utter go through her mind. She wants to say, "Anthony dates pop singers and models, and I can't live up to that." Or she could confess, "When he looks at me a beat too long, I feel like I could combust from the weight of it." Most of all, Kate wants to say, "If I let myself love him, I know that I'll never be able to stop."

But she can't tell them any of that. Kate had been just fine about the prospect of being alone. She's satisfied with her career, family, and friends. But if she admits that she loves him, then she'll never be content with any life that doesn't include him in it.

No matter what Colin and Penelope think, Anthony doesn't love her. He can't. Letting herself hope that he does is too dangerous. It scares her more than any thunderstorm she's ever endured.

"I have to go," Kate murmurs, standing up numbly from the table.

"Kate, wait," Colin says, grabbing onto her arm. He looks apologetic, and it's impossible to be upset when looking into his puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," Kate insists with a thin smile, tugging her arm away from his grasp. "I got to go. Have a nice evening."

As she walks out of the coffee shop, she hears a cheesy pop tune about love play on their radio.

The lyrics inspire Anthony's face to surface in her mind.

Kate groans, knowing she's in deep trouble.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed but couldn't stop hearing Anthony's teasing voice in her head.

In a huff, Kate gets out of bed and quickly puts on her clothes. She debates whether to reapply makeup but decides against it. No one else will see her where she was going.

Luckily, she's friends with the security guard, who let her inside the building that turned off the lights twenty minutes prior. She thanks him and hastily goes to her office, turning on the light and booting up the computer at her desk.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well get some work done.

For a while, all that she hears is the sound of her keys as she typed and the soft hum of music she'd put on to work.

She thought she'd be safe listening to music without lyrics. But Anthony creeps into every note, every chord, and every song.

Just as Kate lowers her head to beat it against the table in frustration, a knock on her door causes her body to jolt upright.

She stands from her chair slowly, walking to the door with caution. No one else would be here this late, so she fears what was on the other side of the door. But if someone was there to hurt her, why would they bother knocking on an unlocked door?

When Kate turns the knob, she sees the face of the man who's been haunting her thoughts for the past few hours (longer than that, if she was honest with herself).

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?" Anthony asks.

"Um, working."

Anthony scans her with curiosity. "On a Sunday?"

"So are you," she points out, crossing her arms.

He holds up a black leather journal. "Actually, I just came by the office for my phone book."

"You have a phone book? Anthony, there's a reason for that contact list on your phone."

"I like writing it down," he defends, looking affronted.

"But you can't add emojis, which adds personality to someone's contact." Kate pulls out her phone and holds out the contacts for him to see. "Edwina has two pink hearts, Penelope has a book, Benedict has an easel, and you have a fire emoji."

"Why do I have a fire emoji?"

"Because you make me want to set things on fire, of course."

Anthony smirks. "Well, next time we play that 'who's most likely to' game in the office, I'll be sure to put you down for becoming an arsonist."

Kate smiles at him, and they fall into one of those moments that's becoming more frequent between them—ones where his body seems to close, and his eyes gleam with something she can't name but feels a kindred sensation within her heart.

Kate takes a step back from him. "Why did you need your phone book so late, anyway?"

Anthony itches behind his ear. Kate frowns, as it's a nervous tick she's never seen from him before. Anthony, like fire, was all-consuming. His feelings were as hot as flames and easy to detect. But now, he looks more guarded, his eyebrows scrunched and his posture squirmish.

"Anthony?" she asks again.

Anthony takes a deep breath. "Well, I actually needed it to call you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. My phone hasn't been working since I went out on the boat with Simon. The bloody idiot knocked it onto the water," he grumbles. "I got a new phone and need to add my contacts back on, which is why I'm lucky I have this phone book which you mocked me for having."

Kate rolls her eyes. "What did you need to call me about?"

"Well, I know we had a rocky start to our relationship—."

"Because you hit on my sister?" she asks, arching her brow.

"I did not hit on her. I merely danced with her at the Christmas party," Anthony corrects with an exasperated sigh. "How many times are we going to argue about this?"

"Until you admit I'm right."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen."

"I've got plenty of time to spend with you."

As soon as those words are out, that heat radiating from Anthony's fire feels warmer. It's as if more time with her is exactly what he wants.

But Kate doesn't let those thoughts get far. She squashes them before they can take root in her mind.

"Continue," Kate tells him.

"Yes, well, as I was saying, we didn't start on the right foot. But, over these past few months, I feel like we've become friends." He looks at her with a hesitant kind of hope. "We have, haven't we?"

Kate smiles. "Yes, we have."

"So, I thought as my friend. You'd like to come with me to this."

Anthony draws two tickets from his pocket and holds one out to her. Kate takes it from in, and her eyes widen as she reads what's on the paper.

"The Vitamin String Quartet?"

"I know you listen to them to relax. I saw that they were touring and coming to London, so I thought that—." His words suddenly halt, tilting his head at her curiously. "What?"

Kate blinks in confusion. "What do you mean 'what?'"

Anthony points at her face. "You were looking at me all funny."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! You were looking at me like this."

Anthony imitates a soft-looking expression, gazing at her with an affectionate smile. Kate, in horror, realizes she had been looking at him like that.

"Shut up," Kate scoffs, nudging his arm and hoping it distracts from the blush on her face. "Like I'd ever look at you like that."

"If you're going to be mean, I won't give you the ticket."

He reaches over, but she pulls her hand back.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Kate says, looking down at the ticket in awe. "This is really nice of you."

"So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course I will," she nods, beaming in excitement.

Anthony releases a breath. "Good."

He begins to back out of her office, but she steps forward from her desk, grabbing his arm.

"Anthony?"

He turns. "Yes?"

Before she can second guess herself, she leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls back, it takes a few seconds for his eyes to open, as if he thinks she's a figment of his imagination that will disappear.

"Thank you," Kate whispers.

Anthony nods, giving her a kind smile before leaving her office.

The music on her computer is still playing. Kate hears the gentle notes of a piano, cautious and optimistic-sounding.

The night had been amazing.

The quartet performed beautifully. They played orchestrational versions of pop songs, which makes Kate feel less guilty about listening to them.

She worried when Anthony said he'd never heard any of their music himself, that he wouldn't enjoy it. But when the concert started, she kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. She saw him watching the players with a content expression.

However, the music didn't help her much with her newfound Anthony problem. When she closed her eyes, the violins sang his name. When his hand grazed hers on the armrest of the chair, the music swelled in tandem with her heart.

He was a song she couldn't get out of her head.

And the worst part was, it was a tune she didn't think she'd ever tire of hearing.

They bantered a bit about the weather while waiting for their Uber. Kate claimed the night was perfectly brisk, not enough to warrant a coat. Anthony, however, disagreed. He poked at the goosebumps on her arm as proof and insisted she take his jacket. She eventually relented, letting him drape his jacket over her shoulders.

When he looked away to wave at the car they'd been waiting for, Kate turned her nose to the jacket. She smelt the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something that was discernibly Anthony.

When they get into the back seat of the car, Anthony turns to her. "Can you believe that couple who sat in front of us?"

"I know! They were all over each other the whole night."

"Music is the food of love, but couldn't they have got the meal before the concert?"

"You'd think," Kate huffs, curling her fists further into his sleeves for warmth. She looks back at him, offering a smile. "I had a really nice time."

"I'm glad," Anthony nods. He swallows nervously, forcing himself to meet her eyes. When he does, Kate sees a raw vulnerability glistening in them. "I just wanted to make you happy."

She bumps her shoulder against his. "You do that by just being you."

Kate's words skim a cello string, creating a deep note that lingers in the air. Something flickers in Anthony's expression, his gaze steadying on her. Suddenly, it's harder for Kate to breathe.

"Look at us, acting like that couple," Kate jokes, trying to ease the tension. "The music must be getting to us too."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Anthony hums, moving a fraction closer to her. "Because right now, I feel this urge to put my arm around you."

Anthony gives in to the feeling, putting an arm around her back. Kate's breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles on her arm. Even through the material of Anthony's jacket, his fingertips send electric shocks to her skin.

"And I want to lean my head right here," she finds herself saying, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

"I want to tuck this strand of hair behind your ear.”

Kate feels his fingers skim against his cheek, gently moving a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Her breath quickens, slowly turning her eyes up at him, and the look he's giving her is overwhelming.

"This is all so ridiculously stereotypical. You make me feel so—so..." Kate's words drift, unable to finish her sentence. Her tongue goes out to wet her lips that suddenly feel dry. "I hate it."

Anthony's index finger goes to her chin, tilting it up and off of his shoulder. "Do you hate this?"

He leans forward, kissing her so sweet and tenderly that she knows if she were standing, her foot would pop up like all of those delusionally romantic heroines in movies do when they kiss.

She gets lost in him. Her hands go up to cup his cheek as she deepens the kiss. Anthony's arm moves from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He swallows her gasp, and Kate hears a cacophony of melodies in her mind.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay wrapped in another's arms. It's only when the driver clears his throat that she realizes the car had come to a stop.

They jump apart, and Anthony gives the driver an uncomfortable nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," he says gruffly and mutters something about "just wait till you have kids, it won't be like this" as they get out of the car.

They stand awkwardly on the street for a few seconds. Kate looks around them. The vivid leaves of the trees stand out amongst the darkness of the night.

Kate remembers when she first met Anthony. It'd been fall, and the trees were bare with leaves littering the ground. It had felt fitting. Back then, her publishing company announced that they were joining one of their competitors. She had to work with Anthony, as they were both the top production editors of the separate companies. Like the leaves, it felt like everything was falling apart. Every smirk or retort of Anthony's felt like the leaves blowing chaotically in the wind.

But now, the trees were alive again, flooding with color. Kate's at the dawn of a new season with Anthony. It's something as inevitable as the change of weather but as everlasting as the stars above them.

No—stars eventually burn out. Kate thinks that whatever is between her and Anthony will continue to burn when all other flames dim.

"So, that happened," Kate says, breaking the silence.

Anthony takes a cautious step towards her. "Yeah, it did."

"I didn't hate it," she shrugs with a teasing tilt of her lips.

"Wow, what great appraisal. Can I list you as a reference for giving me such a raving review?"

"Excuse me, who else are you planning to apply with?"

"No one, I'm quite satisfied with my employment with you," he assures smugly, his hand going up to her cheek. "But, I'd like to have a slight promotion in my position."

Kate leans into his touch. "Oh really, what position do you want to fill?"

"Well, I think I've done everything that I can in the enemy job. I've enjoyed the friend's position. But, if the boyfriend position is available, I'd like to submit my candidacy."

Kate loops her arms around his neck. "Well, how about we check over your application one more time?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Anthony asks, pressing his lips to her temple. "My education?" he murmurs as he kisses her forehead. "My goals?" Kate sighs as his lips move to the corner of her mouth, and his hand curls around her waist. "My experience?" He kisses her again, and Kate feels his smirk against her lips. "Or, my skills?"

Kate pulls back with a smirk of her own. "How about what drew you to this position?"

His eyes gleam roguishly, looking at the lack of space between them. "This particular position?"

Kate tries her best to give him a stern look. "Anthony."

"You," he answers simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Everything about you."

Kate's unable to stop herself, chuckling softly. "Wow, that's incredibly sappy."

"But it's true."

She takes a deep breath, feeling content and peaceful in his arms. "Maybe being sappy isn't such a bad thing."

"No," Anthony agrees, the corner of his lips tilting up as he studies her intently. "I'm starting to think that it's not."

This time when Kate kisses him, she does it without a single reservation about cliches or stereotypes, or how she would roll her eyes if she saw the two of them on the street.

Kate's foot pops, and the song that's been stuck in her head gets set on an infinite loop.

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 3

A/N- The secrets out! Well to you guys anyway 🤫

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Word count- 3,258

Warnings- Swearing, lies, deceit, cheating

Pairing- Chris Hemsworth X you / Liam Hemsworth X you

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 25th May 2021

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings

Chapter 1 + 2

"Morning babe, I tried to let you have a sleep in. I didn't wake you did I?" He asks, preoccupied with the washing up.

"No, I actually had a good sleep for once." You say nonchalantly while searching through the kitchen cupboards for a mug in a half asleep haze. "That's not going to last long when I have to spend the weekend in a hotel bed though."

Finally finding your favourite mug right at the back of the cupboard, you slam it on the counter a little more aggressively than you expected, startling you out of your daziness. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrow at you questioningly and you just shrug your shoulders back at him. It was definitely going to be one of them days, those days where nothing goes right. You would question what you'd done to deserve it but you already know the answer to that.  You were just going to have to put up with karma kicking your ass at any given moment for the rest of your life.

"Aww I know babe, at least it's only two night's though." He comes up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. "You've just reminded me -" He presses carefully, the way he shifts his composure telling you he's uncomfortable with what he's about to say and your heart begins to beat a little faster. " - I know you're going away tomorrow and I really wanted to have the night alone..." He pauses again.

"Just tell me, what is it?" You ask, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice.

"My brother called this morning, he sounds in a bad way so I said he can come over and hang out tonight. You don't mind do you?" Now your heart stops beating completely, what the hell is he playing at? 

 "I'm worried about him, he's not been right lately and he's going away for work tomorrow night too so it's the only time I can see him really." You're angry with him for saying he's going away too, how more fucking obvious can he make it? You're just both suspiciously going to be away with work at the same time. You can't protest about it now, you don't want to raise any more questions.

"No of course not, babe." You agree reluctantly, still seething with anger on the inside. "Right, I'm going for a shower and then I better start packing." You sulk.

"Do you want some help?" He ask as you kiss him on his cheek while you're passing. 

"It's ok babe, you know how meticulous I am with my packing." You say smiling softly at him.

"Gotcha, I am not getting involved with that. Give me a shout if you want a coffee." 

"You're the best." 

                         ****************

Using the tap to muffle the sound of your voice while you make a call. This was starting to become a habit now, the sound of running water in the background whenever you speak to him, a memory that you will never forget. Whenever you run your bath or fill the sink you're going to be reminded of your lying and cheating. Great! Just another thing to add to the list of things to look forward to in the future.

You never thought you'd be a cheater, especially to someone you loved and cared for so deeply. You'd always despised people who cheated, could never understand how people could have multiple lives and cheat multiple times. Naively thinking that if they weren't happy they should just tell the person they are with and stop all the hurt but it doesn't always work that way. You didn't suddenly think 'hey I'm not happy, I'm going to go fuck someone else'. You certainly wouldn't have chosen his brother if that was the case. Over the years it just happened and you hated yourself for it. You weren't even unhappy in your relationship, so that throws all your theories of 'cheaters' completely out of the window. The sound of the dial tone snaps you from your thoughts.

"Hi babe." He answers almost immediately, leaving you with no time to regain your composure. "Hello?" 

"Oh erm.... Don't 'hi babe' me." Not a great start, you have to admit.

"What's wrong?" You can tell that Chris is amused with your tone of voice and it makes that anger resurface.

"You know exactly what's wrong, why the fuck are you coming over here tonight?" 

"Erm to s-" you don't even give him time to speak before you interrupt him. You don't believe that he's just coming to see Liam, you know he's coming to see you no matter what he says.

"As if it's not awkward enough without having you both in the same house together... You have to cancel." The thought of them both being together with you filled you with fear. How were you supposed to act around them both? The idea of it fills you with chills.

"I'm not cancelling. I haven't seen him in a while and he invited me. It'll be fine, I'll be on my best behaviour, I promise. I get you all to myself tomorrow anyway." 

"Exactly so why do you need to come over here and make everything all awkward?"

"Babe I'm coming to see my brother, you get me to yourself tomorrow. Don't be selfish" you could hear the amusement in his voice, you're sure he enjoys this.

"Pfft." A huff is about the only thing you could manage right now.

"You get to have both your favourite people in the same room, at the same time... Hey maybe we can have a threesome?" 

"Fuck off." You murmur, although you have to admit the thought of it does turn you on slightly. In a perfect world that would be the best possible outcome but it's not a perfect world and that most definitely would never happen.

"I'll see you tonight, wear something sexy." He laughs.

"This isn't funny." You reply before hanging up the phone and you're left alone with the tormenting sound of flowing water.

This is going to be a disaster, you can't help but think that tonight is the night it all comes out. Surely this isn't what he has planned, he wouldn't want to hurt his brother in such a viscous way. To announce at dinner that he's fucking his girlfriend and that they've been going behind his back and fucking for years. Surely not?  You're pretty sure you're being paranoid but know you're going to be on the edge of your seat all night, frightened everytime he opens his mouth to speak.

                                 **************

You're sure you've downed almost a full bottle of wine before he's even arrived, you try to remember how many glasses you've had when you finally hear the dreaded chime of the doorbell. Your head is dizzy with bubbles already, your stomach churning at the thought. It wasn't the cleverest of ideas to drink so much already, not when you need to be sharp and aware of what you're doing and saying. Fuck.

The way Chris' eyes light up when he sees you reminds you exactly why this is all worth it. You feel your nerves settle slightly now the first step was over and it wasn't so bad was it? You don't know what you were actually expecting, him to walk through the door and kiss you passionately sounds about right though.

"Chris! Hi, how you doing?" You act, standing on your tiptoes to hug him. It's so hard acting like he's your brother in law and not your... Boyfriend? Lover? You don't even know what to call him.

"Hi, beautiful." He whispers into your ear, making your stomach flip when you feel his lips graze against your neck. "I'm good thank you, how are you guys?" He says louder, moving away from your arms reluctantly and standing against the counter. The glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips make him look sexy as hell, you bite onto your lip as hard as you can. Hoping to draw blood so you can concentrate on the pain and not the fact you want to rip your boyfriend's brothers clothes off.

"We're great" Liam replies.

"I'm sure you are." Chris says sarcastically under his breath, luckily Liam didn't hear him. You give Chris the glare, reminding him to be on his best behaviour.

"But how are you? You didn't sound too good the other day." Liam asks, opening a bottle of wine.

"I was probably just tired bro, you know how it is. I don't get much sleep nowadays." 

"Oh yeah, is a woman involved by any chance?" Liam asks, laughing to himself.

"Yeah, something like that." Chris subtly grazes your hand as you walk into the kitchen to help Liam. You freeze on the spot, looking into his eyes you see a desperately pleading look. You know this is torture for him, that he just wants to grab you and hold onto you. Even though he tries his best not to, he hates his brother for it, he hates that he gets to have you.

"Anyway, it smells great in here. What you making?" Chris says locked in eye contact with you. 

"I've just thrown together some dinner." You say casually, although deep down your heart is tugging and your hands are shaking.

"Her food is fucking amazing, I probably should have made sure you hadn't eaten first though?" Liam puts his arms around you and kisses your cheek as you carry on stirring the food on the stove. You're glad you have your back to Chris because you dread to think of his reaction. How you have to pretend you don't know each other on that deep level. You had tried to warn him that this was a bad idea.

"Yeah, no that would be awesome. Thanks" You can tell by the way his voice broke that this is causing him pain and there's nothing you can do about it. 

                              **************

"Do you want a beer or are you ok with wine?" Liam asks Chris as you sit down at the table ready to eat.

"I'd love a beer bro" Chris replies. You watch from the corner of your eye as Liam heads to the fridge, your heart beating a little faster now he's out of sight. Looking to Chris nervously.

Chris takes the opportunity while Liams back is turned and grabs your hand under the table. Stroking your palm with his thumb he mouths the words 'love you'. You can't help but feel sorry for him, this horrible situation you're all in. You mouth the words back to him before he lets your hand go when Liam comes back into sight.

All the way through the meal Chris can't take his eyes off of you, you're worried Liam will notice but he's paying no attention. Obviously he has no reason to doubt his loyal girlfriend and protective big brother, why would he? Which makes your betrayal even more unbearable.

"This is great Y/N." Chris says after tasting your food and moving your dress a little higher so he can place his hand on the top of your bare thigh under the table. The shock makes you jump and you hit your knee on the top of the table.

"Are you alright?" Liam asks looking slightly confused.

"Sorry, yeah. I just burnt my mouth." There's a slight hint of amusement in your words, you're a bad person but the situation is just too much not to find it slightly funny. The feel of Chris' hand on your thigh makes you feel butterflies in your stomach at the same time as the deep sick feeling of dread, your mind in a giant conflicted turmoil of feelings.

You can see Chris is also trying to hide his laugh as he takes a sip from his beer, one hand still on your thigh. Why the fuck am I sat in the middle? You hadn't thought about it when you'd sat down but now realise it was a massive mistake and also subconsciously the perfect place for you. The playing piece in a match against brothers, only one player is unaware there is any contest at all.

Chris finishes his beer and puts it down on the table loudly, filling the awkward silence between you all. You can understand the awkwardness between you and Chris but why is Liam not speaking? He wanted to see Chris to figure out what was wrong with him but he's not asking any questions. Has he figured it out? Did he see Chris touch your hand earlier? Had he seen you both whispering? You wriggle in your chair, feeling deadly uncomfortable and hoping Chris would move his hand. He didn't take the hint.

"Do you want another?" Liam asks Chris, already getting up from his chair and not waiting for an answer. Something is definitely wrong. Chris's hand moves further up your thigh, grazing the lace of your panties with the tip of his long finger. He's also completely oblivious to your awkwardness, drinking too much is numbing his senses and becoming dangerous. He's playing with fire. 

You fling your chair back from the table, standing abruptly, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and nervousness.

"I'm just gunna get some more beers from the basement." Liam announces, Chris sat cooly in his chair with not an ounce of nervousness.

"It's ok I'll go, you guys have a chat." You say, desperately needing to escape for a minute to catch your breath.

"Don't be silly, it'll only take me a minute." Liam says, already walking towards the door.

Chris takes his cue again, standing from his chair and moving over to you. Standing closely so he can whisper in your ear, his arm pressed to the small of your back while he holds you against him.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed again tomorrow Y/N. I've waited too long." 

"Chris, shh." 

"No, you shh. I wish I had you now, right here. I could just sit you up on this counter and fuck you right here -" He moves his hand up your skirt, gripping your ass in his big hands. "- You want that don't you? Tell me." His teeth graze the skin on your neck, making your head hang back loosely. You want it so bad, all your tension melts away as your muscles relax in his arms.

"We've got all weekend Chris, we can't do this here. It's too risky." You sigh, carefully wrapping your arms around his neck and listening for any sign of Liam.

"Fuck I know but it's so hard being here with you and not being able to fucking touch you." He moves away from you, running his hand though his hair in frustration.

"I told you how hard it'd be." You say.

"How hard what would be?" Liam asks breathlessly. Fuck. You hadn't heard him coming back, how much more had he heard? 

You're lost for words, completely frozen in shock. If he hadn't heard or seen anything it was still way too close for your liking.

"To shoot this ball of foil into that bin from all the way over here." Chris replies hastily, you're incredibly impressed with his quick thinking.

"Let me have a go then." Liam says, taking the foil from Chris. Typical competive brothers. Chris turns to you and winks devilishly, you're perfectly aware of how desirable he looks but you try to push that thought aside. You can't be thinking about that, the things he had just been saying and the thrill of almost being caught, all at once. 

"My turn." You say raising your eyebrows at them both as you swing your hips, confidently over to the fridge. Chris bites his lip as he watches you walk over. "Watch and learn boys." This is quite possibly the strangest situation you've ever been in but you might as well make the most of it.

You shoot your shot and land the foil ball straight into the bin. Turning around and bowing, you're wide eyed when you straighten back up. They both moved towards you as if they were going to kiss you, luckily Chris stopped himself in time.

"Only you could've landed that shot." Liam says, picking you up in his arms, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around him while he kisses your lips deeply. 

You risk a glance at Chris over Liam's shoulder and he's seething with anger, you can see it written all over his face. 

"I'm gunna go outside for some air." Chris announces blankly while Liam sets you back on the ground, a look of concern on his face.

"You alright bro?" Liam asks with no reply from Chris as he walks out of the door.

You get on with the cleaning up, distracting yourself and hoping Liam hadn't noticed Chris' reaction. You can sense Liam behind you, stood on the spot thinking. He's working it out, he's putting together all the pieces and finally working it out.

"I've worked out what's wrong with Chris." He comes up behind you, emptying the plates into the trash. Fuck, here we go.

"What do you mean?" You ask gently, not really wanting to hear his conclusion.

"You know, the reason why he's been moping about all the time." You don't turn around, you just listen, hiding your face and any reaction you're showing. "Well he's quite obviously jealous of us." He adds. There we go, he's worked it out or he's definitely worked out Chris' part in it all.

You felt your stomach drop, Chris was so obvious it wouldn't take a genius to see something was wrong.

"What makes you say that?" You press, carefully. Your back still turned to Liam while you clean the surfaces.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice how he just acted when I kissed you." Of course you noticed, you just hoped Liam hadn't. It won't be long until he puts all the pieces together and figures this all out, if he hasn't already. You pour the last of the bottle of wine into your glass, gulping it greedily. Lord knows you're going to need it.

"He needs a girlfriend, can't you fix him up with one of your friends?" You can't describe the relief you feel right now and a small twang of jealousy at the thought of Chris with one of your friends.

"I'm sure your brother isn't short of admirers Liam, he doesn't need me to fix him up" Your tone of voice was a little too short. Pull it together.

"I suppose you're right but he doesn't have the best taste in women does he?" You can feel your cheeks burning, you're fighting the urge to defend yourself. Telling Liam his brother had the same taste in women when it came to you, wouldn't go down quite so well would it? 

"I'm seeing someone actually Liam." Chris says, overhearing your conversation as he came back in after finally composing himself.

"Oh really? You never said." Liam asks curiously.

"Yeah, we're keeping it to ourselves for now... Until she tells her boyfriend." What the actual fuck? You can't believe he's just said that, he looks at you defiantly, completely over this whole thing.

Liam nearly spat his drink out and you're sure your cheeks are beetroot red, you don't have a clue what to do in this situation. 

"Is she married? Do I know her?" Liam questions further. You're hoping and praying he stops with the questions, Chris is ready and willing to come clean, you can tell by his expression.

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

[barjogaron]

This is chapter 4 for my Élite AU Love & Deceit! Thanks so much you guys for the lovely comments and support! It can be read on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32302612

And on wattpad here:

Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Chapter Four:

In the dream, a pair of lustful green eyes glare at me from the dark...

The obnoxious sound my phone's alarm clock rings in my ear. I rub and open my eyes, the alarm of my phone notifying me consistently to wake up and prepare myself for the day. The first day. Work officially begins and I must be on the top my heels with everything. From managing the mansion's staff, to cleaning, as well and looking after the house. It shouldn't be too hard. Right?

I get out my outfit for today which is thankfully more casual than the others who mandatorily must wear suits and or maid dresses. I am privileged to wear more causal clothing, a white button up blouse, a black skirt, and my navy blue Toms. I put on reading glasses and braid my hair into a short pony tail before wrapping a silky and shiny baby blue hijab around my head. Of course I dabble my face with a little make up, eyeliner, and brown lipstick, so I can at least look slightly more fashionable. Honestly, I look like an assistant rather than someone who cleans and manages a mansion.

I enter into the living room of the suite and the girls are nowhere in sight, probably already starting to help the kitchen staff with breakfast for the boys. I open the door, about to enter the hallway when I pump into a what felt like a wall. He's a few inches taller than me and devilishly handsome.

His hair is dark, short, and wavy, and I can smell the nice smelling aftershave on his smooth face. He looks at me and I've never seen such a friendlier smile. His golden brown eyes are like ice, so cold and sharp, but everything about him is warm. He's dressed in a dark blue blazer with a black shirt underneath and ripped jeans.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, miss...?" his Spaniard accent is strong, and I notice that both his hands still rest on my shoulders. After a few awkward seconds his cheeks heat up red and he quickly releases me from his grip.

I clear my throat.

"It's okay, um," I clear my throat again. "Who are you?" I ask sincerely. I must know who this stranger is. I didn't see him last night at dinner. Is he a brother? No, probably not, although he looks the part. But he is definitely more casual.

"I'm Samuel. Nice to meet you," he says and I shake his hand. "I am here to assist you. Mister Crisanto put you in charge of the staff. He put me to assistant alongside you in any way that I can make things easier for you." Samuel smiles. It's a warm and inviting smile. I nod my head slowly.

"I didn't know I'd be having an assistant."

"You'll need all the help you can get, I'm afraid." Samuel chuckles softly.

"I'm thankful. And I'm sure I'll need it. Well, how about breakfast...?" I tell him and he's just staring at me with his lips still stuck in a smile. After a few moments I guess my words have entered his ears and his eyes go wide.

"Oh, right! " he says, starting now towards the stairs. "Shall we?" he says.

"Of course." I walk towards him and we stroll down the stairs together.

"So how'd you get this job?" Samuel asks me as we walk down the hallway on our way towards the kitchen.

"Well, a professor of mine recommended me to take this high opportunity job, and I needed a high paying job and experience like this, so I took the chance. The benefits are spectacular. I've never been to London, and well...here I am." I smile to myself.

Samuel looks at me with much amazement. Silence creeps in and I decide to disrupt it.

"What about you? How'd you end up here?" I ask him and he shoves his hands into his pockets, his smile revealing his perfect white teeth.

"I'm a friend of the family, actually," says Samuel. "We're all just trying to make a living."  he finishes.

"Isn't that the truth." I huff.

After a few more minutes of walking, we near the kitchen, which is before the dining hall.

"Well, I'll see what's up in the kitchen and you check out the dining hall in preparation for set up." Samuel instructs and I oblige. He disappears into the kitchen and I walk further towards the dining hall, finally entering, and is soon disturbed because of the sight in front of me.

Half naked and clothed only in a matte black designer house-robe is, Guzmán. His naked chest bare with a thin gold necklace draped around his neck and laying on his large pecs, his perfect peachy skin glistening from the invading morning light. He sits in the chair inappropriately like a child. The trim of his boxers showing beneath his bellybutton, as his grey sweatpants that shape his legs are slouched down by an inch to display the brand of his boxers. Which are Calvin Klein...

His eyes snap up at me and a smirk grows on his face. He takes a green apple from the fruit bowl in front of him and slowly bites into it. The loud crunch is taunting and obnoxious, making me cringe. I'm sure the crunch could be heard all over the mansion. He munches on the apple while holding his gaze upon me. His lips are now plump, wet, and a deeper shade of pink. I bite my tongue and clench my fist, trying to grip onto the first thing to say that comes to mind.

"What are you doing?" is the only thing my brain could come with, and it's an incredibly stupid question.

"As you know, this is my home," Guzmán smirks. "And I'm eating an apple." he takes another bite out of the apple and his smirk grows to deride me.

Let me try firing a better question...

"I mean what are you doing sitting here half naked at the table? It's..."

"Obnoxious?" Guzmán adds.

"Even better." I reply.

"Abhorrent?" Guzmán continues while standing from the chair. I cross my arms and stand my ground.

"I couldn't agree more." I challenge him, my hands are on my hips now, and Guzmán inches himself closer to me.

"Repugnant?" he continues, getting closer. "Intolerable?" he's even closer, and I back away slightly but there is a wall behind me, meaning I'm trapped.

"Unpleasant?" he says, now standing in front of me. He's so much taller than me that I have to look up.

"Most definitely." I breathe, looking away. Guzmán leans closer to me.

"Dis-taste-ful?" he whispers into my ear, his breath on my neck. Why am I even allowing this?

"Are you finished, Mister Blanco?" I ask him and I hear him chuckle under his breath. "What's so funny?" I ask as he backs away from me, restoring my personal space.

"Mister Blanco is my father. You can call me, Guzmán, baby girl." he winks and my mouth hangs open.

"Excuse me?" I glare at him but it amuses him further.

"Or daddy, if you'd like." Guzmán winks again with a grin.

"Excu—, Why I...!" I scoff. Thankfully, before he could say anything, waiters and waitresses bring out plates of food and fancy eating utensils to spread on the table blanketed in white.

"Breakfast is served!" Carla, who is dressed cutely in her cleaning outfit, shouts and rings a bell as the staff sets up the food on the table. Guzmán's brothers enter the room, selecting their seats. Guzmán sits at the head of the table where his father sat last night, still sitting obnoxiously and munching on his apple, his green gaze still focused on me, trying to get beneath my skin.

"Everything alright?" I hear Samuel's voice and I turn around to see his friendly face, which immediately brightens my mood.

"Yes, of course," I give him an assuring smile and look back at Guzmán and his brothers as they all begin to eat breakfast.

...

LATER ON, THE DAY has become evening, and my first day was a success for the most part. Breakfast went surprisingly smooth as the rest of the day was a complete and utter day of bland. There wasn't much to do, but it felt like a lifetime of doing so. Floors needed to be swept, mopped, and waxed, the rooms dusted, books organized—things like that. Of course I took care of all of those things on my behalf. Managing the other staff to do lawn work and clean the pool and other parts of the house wasn't an easy fix either. As well as figuring out the meal plan. Crisanto seems to have a very distinct diet for him and his sons, so I want to make sure we live up to his dietary expectations.

It's about a quarter to seven when I am relieved from my duty and I head upstairs to my room. The other girls sought to go sight seeing in the city and shop around before we are to do dinner. I'm just going to get lost in a novel and probably go to sleep. I'll have plenty of time to check out the city of London during my stay here.

The house is silent as I walk through the eldritch hall. Not a soul to be seen or a sound to be heard, other than the sound of my shoes sliding against the smooth floor. Suddenly, a wave of laughter and squeaky shoes on the freshly waxed floors disrupts the silence and I stop, knowing exactly who it is.

The brothers.

Guzmán and his shirtless brothers are dressed in their basketball gear (by gear I mean shirtless and only wearing their sneakers and shorts), entering into the hall childishly. Their skin is glistening and sweaty, hair drenched and dripping. The brother, Ander, even uses his water bottle to pour water all over himself, drenching his curly hair further. I watch in annoyance as it slides down his chest like a waterfall. His brothers snicker and he sighs in relief at the surely cool sensation of his ice cold drinking water that is now all over the floor. I don't know what to be pissed about more, seeing Guzmán smirk at me menacingly, or the fact that Ander is wasting perfectly good water to pour onto himself, and making a puddle on the freshly cleaned floors that the staff and I worked hard on cleaning!

"Um, excuse me!" I storm towards the boys who are way taller than me and they look at me like I'm a lost child.

"Your highness?" Guzmán smirks and Ander and Polo poorly hide their grins. Valerio smirks, which is dark and seductive and honestly, a bit unsettling. Everything is just a game to them it seems.

"Maybe you don't care, but the staff and I worked very hard to clean the floors of this house. Maybe show a little respect by not pouring water onto it?" I try to make my voice as kind as possible.

"Oh you mean like this?" Guzmán opens his water bottle and pours the remainder of his drink on to the floor while looking directly into my eyes. His brothers look at one another, finding amusement in my shocked expression.

"We work hard for your house you know! You can't just mess up the floors when people worked hard to manage it!" I bark at Guzmán, who is rather entertained by this tribulation.

"You're right, this is my house," Guzmán chuckles, taking a step closer to me. "Which means I can do whatever the fuck I want," He is in front of me now, eyes aglow under the pristine lighting of the hall, staring deep into my soul. I flinch and he holds a deathly glare, but I can see the delight dancing around in his eyes and lips. "And you know what else is mine? You and everyone else who works for me. Meaning whatever mess I make, you have to clean it the fuck up." Guzmán drops his empty water bottle on the ground and walks away with his brothers following after him. "Have fun!" he laughs while walking away, his brothers following after him, and also tossing their empty bottles on the ground. All except Valerio...

I stand there for a moment fighting back the tears. I bend down to retrieve the water bottles, cleaned up the mess, and ran straight into my room. Never have I felt so disrespected and humiliated in my entire life, and even worse, defeated. I'm not used to biting my tongue, but I have to if I want to make my earnings and leave a desirable impression. Just when I have gotten comfortable and about to start reading my favorite novel, The Secret History, my phone rings.

"Hello?" I croak into the phone.

"Hey, Nadia! How are you honey? Is the job going well?" It's dad. What do I tell him? That everything is going great? Or I just got madly degraded by a really attractive prick of a rich boy? Of course I go with the first option. "Everything is going fine, baba. The house is beautiful." I tell him.

"That's really good Nadia, me and your brother miss you. Omar is here, would you like to speak to him?" I think for a moment. Hearing Omar's voice would really make my day. "Yes of course, put him on the phone!" I tell him and a few seconds later I hear him.

"Hey doofus." the rough and familiar voice of Omar makes me smile.

"Hey weasel," I tease him with the nickname he detests and I hear his soft chuckles over the phone.

"I told you never to call me that," he laughs and I imagine his bright smile. I've been gone a day and I already miss my brother and baba so much.

There's a few moments of silence, nothing but our soft breathing.

"Is everything alright, Nadia?" he finally says and I wipe tears from my eyes, not allowing them to consume me.

"I'm already missing home." I admit to him.

"Give it some time, sis, you'll do great. Don't let those rich assholes best you down. You're a Shanaa. A bad bitch. You got this." Omar says and I instantly feel better.

"You're right," I wipe more tears away and exhale. "I got this."

"And," Omar lowers his voice. "Ring me up if there's any cute boys available."

"Will do," I half laugh. I guess I'll talk to you later, yeah?" I say.

"Yeah sis, I'll talk to you later. Just be cool." he says and we both hang up the phone.

I toss my phone to the side and bury my face into my book, drifting off until I finally fall asleep.

taglist: @inmyarmsyoufell @jasminejc4525 @@glamorizing @elitestan

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 3 of 4 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."

His soul almost stops at that sentence, yet he tries not to let it show. Based on how charmed (Y/N) was around monsters who weren't heavily involved with the intentions of the Royal Guard, Sans assumes they're lying for the sake of not letting Roger down. He observes and listens to their exchange by the side, only intervening when he's escorted with them into the shop.

Before arriving at the counter, he brings up that sentence and the meaning behind it. He has some confidence as to what their reply will be, but when they actually speak up, it only complicates his thoughts and the pace of his soul more. "I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but… In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down."

He'd hit the nail in the head.

But what was the reason behind their doubts?

Did they feel forced to go out with him, simply for having gotten to know Frisk during their journey?

It didn't feel that way, yet he didn't exactly know them well enough to be one-hundred percent sure of those assumptions. For all he knew, they could be pretending and trying to get along with him just for the sake of Frisk's happiness and the rest of their monster friends. It wasn't safe to cross out that possibility yet.

A bunnywoman greets him and he words out his orders, saying (Y/N)'s, then his, and finally Frisk's to-go. He can see the human's wallet already in hand, though they hold it back when he's directed with them to a table, no upfront payment needed. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's," they add, sitting down and facing their lap.

At that, his curiosity rises, and he can't help asking them for a little more detail. "What do you mean?"

They fidget before answering. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."

"Why?" The monster wants to disappear with how abrupt, rude, and plain nosy that question comes out. Knowing he's already screwed up and not wanting to ruin things further by making them angry, he hurries to elaborate his question better, saying, "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?" He breathes out as subtly as possible, relieved to see them nod. 

A brown bear appears, referring to himself as the waiter in charge of the table for today. He's in formal wear, something the human seems to be charmed by; it's an undoubtedly similar look to when they didn't want to disappoint the rabbit. They continue when the bear leaves, words once more catching the skeleton off guard. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" They keep quiet for a while, making his doubts return. He's worried he's asking questions far too personal for them to be in any way comfortable with him, but they don't stop with their answers. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed. I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." They sound more at ease the further they talk, helping calm some of his own tension down. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements." 

That seems to be the final drop in the bucket for them to expose their heart out to him. Words practically flow out of their mouth as they continue to explain the reasons behind their self-imposed limitations. They tell him of Jerry and their relationship with him post-divorce, of those six years without dating anyone, and over the responsibility they felt was on their shoulders ever since Jerry stopped acting as a father for Frisk. He's irked with everything they say -- especially the last part -- but again, he tries not to let his emotions show too much, wanting to listen to them instead. 

As they speak, Sans wonders whether it's okay to continue being all chill and buddy-buddy with Jerry, now knowing him in a different light. The guy was fun to be around with, and he was truthfully the one who'd given him a push to make a move on (Y/N), but he couldn't bring himself to meet up with him again without wanting to use the same sense of judgment he specialized in at the Underground. He was strict and stern when it came to the consequences of others' actions just as he was when it came to judging himself for his own choices in both past and present times.

If Jerry was well-aware he wasn't ready to be a father, then why did he still agree on (having/adopting) a child?

Had it been an unforeseen result, or was there more to it?

A piece of information slips by, though (Y/N) doesn't seem to catch onto it. After the words 'I let him go', follow: "I, well… I was over the moon when he said we could be parents, and I didn't really think about his real feelings about the situation the second he said we could give it a try, so it's… It's primarily my fault all of this happened, either way. I- I should've paid more attention and discussed the situation with him more properly." A bitter smile shows on their face. "Children aren't pets, and even pets aren't that easy of a responsibility, either. I… I should've stopped to think about that choice some more before immediately assuming we were both ready, once he... once he brought up the possibility of us being parents."

Based on how little they react after that confession, it's plain evident they haven't noticed they've let that information slip past, so he chooses not to bring it up. To make up for it, Sans intervenes when he notices they're too caught up in wanting to make things right all in one day. He steps in with his own view on the subject so far, saying, "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He pauses, picking up a fork and piercing it through his dish. Then, he faces (Y/N), continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option, though."

They face away and pick up a portion of their dessert along the way. With how calm they look right now, he wonders how they would react had he chosen to bring up the fact they'd just confessed something far too personal in the midst of them being honest with him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." They take a bite.

Sans tries to look away from their lips, not wanting to make himself come off as an indecent person by staring there for too long. While they were dressed far more strikingly and looked far more cheerful compared to previous times, that's no excuse for him to stare, and even less at their face. They were here wearing their heart out on their sleeve for him. Taking advantage of that with any sort of flirting or advancements simply didn't feel right presently.

He offers his point-of-view, only to be interrupted by what he fears is trouble lurking right behind (Y/N)'s back. There's two human men standing close by, pointing at their waist and muttering comments about how 'chunky' they are and how small the off-brand 'Grim Reaper on vacation prop' sitting with them is. He waits and keeps an eye socket out for the two as he continues, only to be interrupted by a loud comment from one of the pair not long after.

"Hey, Kevin," the burliest one of the two says, voice irritatingly loud. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?" 

Laughter follows and the lankier one replies with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"

Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what Sans can only interpret as his own voice with how exaggeratedly rough and Batman-with-a-cold deep it sounds, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"

More laughter.

"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Brayan snorts at that -- obnoxiously rather than cutely. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"

"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!

"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"

Just as the skeleton expects to be pushed off his chair, his company intervenes by standing up and approaching the man about to send him to the ground. Their stance is firm and their gaze is pissed, the light in their eyes far different from when they snapped at his own flirting. They grab the man by the arm, but it doesn't take much for him to retaliate and seek out help from his partner-in-crime. Far-too soon, a splash is heard and the skeleton sees (Y/N)'s shirt drenched, an empty glass being held by one of the two men still standing nearby. 

Now his turn to act, Sans takes advantage of free Karma and tosses both his drink and theirs at the man responsible for throwing one at (Y/N). The rest is a blur as he pays more attention to them and their condition. Only the comments Kevin and Brayan made about them and the drink thrown at them stay in his mind, occupying the rest of his thoughts. He takes a towel and wraps it around their torso, being extra cautious not to brush his hands anywhere improper, something better said than done with his current situation. They're soaked from neck to waist, the subtle warmth emerging from their body making him further concerned by assuming the drink was still fresh. 

"Was it hot?"

With that question, he receives yet another surprise, both in words and the bold look they give him along with it. "No," he hears (Y/N) say, grinning bright and wide as a subtle, flirty curve shows on their smile. "But you worrying about me kinda is."

His soul lurches at the feeling of their lips on his cheekbone. It's a sensation far too soft for him to have ever been prepared for it, and it's made a lot more intense when they drag the kiss all the way to his ear cavity, lips brushing against his face as they whisper him a 'thank you'. His hands are firm on their waist as the crowd cheers on. It's only when he backs away and lets go of the towel that he can escape from the situation, plopping back down on his chair to recover from it. 

• • •

With the remnants of the earlier incident, it’s a different experience giving the human a ride to his home. The skeleton's now overly alert of everything around him, from their hands around his waist to the rumbling of other engines near him. Thankfully, a cloudy sky, strong winds, and a light drizzle aid as a distraction. He dodges busy streets by taking detours wherever possible, and he focuses on one thing only: getting there before the rain pours any harder. While the helmet shields most of it away, the roar of the clouds above alerts him and seemingly the one holding onto him, based on how they press closer and ask if he’s okay.

“Wouldn’t it be better to stop?” they suggest, voice muffled from too many things at once. There’s the rain picking up, other vehicles zooming past, and the warning of future thunder from the clouds. Add in the helmets, and it’s a necessity for him to take a turn and park by the emergency lane.

The stillness of his surroundings helps provide a better look at the options nearby. Four were available, the last of them the most risky. It was either turn left and stop at a gas station, turn right and stop at an inn, go back and stop at the nearest shopping district available, or continue forward without any proper sense of direction. 

Just as he’s imagining there’s no way (Y/N) could be any bolder than they had been with their kiss, they say, “Let’s stop by the inn.” Their smile quells any hidden meanings. Their tone, on the other hand, has plenty left to be said. “It’s the closest option there is, and judging by the situation up there, it’s the best one, too.”

Right.

He scolds himself mentally for letting his imagination run too far.

Of course, it was his fear of thunder they were referring to!

What else could it have been?

“Alright,” he says, giving in with a huff. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah,” they reply, shrugging. “It's getting darker, and the weather’s not too good. I’ll just call Undyne and let her know we'll be returning a little later than expected."

The monster finally grins at that and props the motorcycle back into shape. “You’re being awfully chill about this whole thing, pal.” He jolts when their hands find their place around him once more, settled down when he hears them laugh, airiness present in their tone. They rest their head closer to his shoulder, helmet bumping with his. “Gettin’ real comfy around me, too.”

They pull back, a frown heard in their question, “Would you like me to stop?”

He shakes his head, bringing them closer at a red light. “Not at all.”

Their laughter sounds again, more cheerful and light. Had he no context of where they'd been before the ride, he would’ve assumed they'd taken a drink too many. To see them relax and play along was about as rare as a day not passing by without the sudden awfulness of the weather. It’s been worsening, yet he can’t quite determine why exactly. There were plenty of factors contributing to it, one of the most common being the current season, and the most uncommon somehow related to the accusations monsters received about the bad weather being all their fault.

Flashing, neon lights greet the skeleton when he parks close to the inn, right below a tent made specifically for keeping customers' vehicles out of the bad weather. ‘Open 24/7. Vacant. Family Friendly. Monster Friendly. Absolutely NO pest problem. Suspicious wall stains are actually retro wallpaper patterns, not blood,' and a bunch more other things blare at him in bright lettering. There’s tiny wording at the bottom of the word ‘Inn’, reading: ‘formerly a criminal hideout’, in parentheses.

Sans expects all but more stifled laughter from (Y/N)’s mouth. When he looks towards them, he sees they've already taken their helmet off, revealing teary eyes and a smile. “What's next?” they ask, giggling. “Bet now the hotel guy'll say: ‘Sorry, we’ve only got one room left’.” They take him by the arm and lead him in as soon as the rain pours completely, their laughter drowning out as thunder clashes from nearby. “C’mon,” they call out, tugging him in. “You’ll get sick!” The door jingles as he passes through with them by his side, revealing a lobby far more decent than the outside suggests. “See that? It’s gonna be fine!"

He doesn't say anything and instead lets himself be tugged along. If he'd annoyed them too much with his flirting and this was the world's way of punishing him for it, he accepted it despite what that was doing to his soul. He accompanies them to the registration counter, where an even worse problem waits.

"Welcome!" Mettaton calls out, greeting both him and the human next to him with a smile. Funky music plays on the radio, matching almost eerily with his gaze and the purpose behind his smile. "Room for two, I assume?" He takes out a log book, and a calculative frown shows on his face as he taps his chin with the pen, a smile returning when he looks up. "...Either way, I'm afraid that's all we have right now."

His companion snorts (cutely, in comparison to Brayan), though they cover it up when he tries to get a better look at them, seeing a smile still on. "Told you so," they say, jabbing his waist. They then turn over to the robot, seriousness falling on their face. "We'd like to book it for a night, please."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Note

This chapter was originally meant to be only 2 parts long, but the request seen here (an older one, as it was suggested in the first version of this fanfic) ended up enriching the story's plot wayyy more than I thought, lol.

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: fucking finally, I'd say. Sorry it took me so long to post it after I decided to revamp this series. Here goes my belated 300 special med student!Kuroo. Please note that this is written based on the med school model we have here, in wich we get the MD degree right away, without the pre-med division they have in USA.

PS: DAI¹ stands for diffuse axonal injury, a type of brain damage caused by violent shakes (acceleration/deceleration/shaken baby syndrome) of the head. No worries, banging your head against a hard surface isn't supposed to give you it. If you get confused by any medical terms, pls hmu!!

Warnings: me trying to be funny. Cursing (reader swears like a sailor here).

I – Lehninger principles of biochemistry

Previous || Next

Your head was throbbing. The professor's voice dragging through your ears made the discomfort you felt even bigger.

The first class of the day have barely started and you were already regretting leaving your bed.

You let out a shuddering breath while your fingers found their way to your temples. You massaged the area, trying to ease the headache.

"You look like shit" the voice came from your right. Shirabu gave you a sideways glance before going back to his notes. "Let me guess, your neighbor again?"

"Yeah, the bastard was up all the night. I still can hear his bed pounding into the wall and the girl trying to muffle her voice" You groaned.

"Ew. Gross" The blonde's face contorted in a grimace "Am I the only one weirded by the fact you never saw the guy?" He asked frowning.

"Hell, no. But I don't think I wanna meet him anytime soon." Your reply was earn; you wouldn't know how to react if you ever saw the said man. "Besides, the guy has this strange schedule. He leaves early in the morning and comes back late at night, it's kinda weird"

"Weird is the way you know him so well and never saw him before" You ignored your him and turned your attention back to the professor. Twenty minutes into the lecture, the door was open and a raven hair peaked from it, sitting on the desk available in the front row.

You mood automatically got worse just by the sight.

"You're staring" Shirabu's uninterested voice ringed in your ears again "Why don't you admit you have a thing for him already? It would make our lives a thousand times easier"

"I just dislike him. I can't stand that dumbass" You retorted grimacing while scribbling down in your notebook. God, you hated biochemistry.

"Yeah, keep repeating that and someday you'll believe it."

"Why you all keep saying it?" You winced at the high pitch of your whisper "The guy ain't special. He is an asshole, honestly"

"Deep down you only say it because he told you were 'just okay' in our first week of freshmen year" The male gave you a pointed look. "I know it's you just being petty, but it's pretty obvious you have a crush on him"

"Hell no, I'd rather have the whole Lehninger shoved down my throat" Your classmate scoffed by your side, resuming to his notes.

"By the looks Haruno-sensei is sending in our direction, it's going to happen anytime soon."

"For this term, you'll send me an essay about peptides with especial focus on physiologically active ones and their major role on human organism." The professor said, sending a stern glare though the class. "Pay attention to the next slide. It contains a table with the pairs I've assigned for this paper"

What the hecking heck?

Your mind went blank but you still heard Shirabu snickering by your peripheral. For such a stoic man, he was pretty out of character today. That little shit.

"Beware the addressed pairs won't be changed in any circumstances. Don't even bother to try" The woman said as she addressed the whole class a cold glare. Goddammit med school and its goddam professors. "You now can discuss this paper. Remember this essay is worth half the grade"

"Fuck" you cursed as your forehead banged onto the thick textbook.

"Whoa, be careful" The teasing voice made you painfully groan "We don't want this pretty brain of yours getting a DAI¹ before we start this paper"

"It's too early in the morning to deal with you, Kuroo" Your retorted came muffled as you pressed your face even flatter into the book. 

"It's too early in the morning for you be ranting about everything but you don't hear me complaining, kitten" He jabbed at you, laughing it off as mere teasing "Is it fine if we start the paper on this weekend? I gotta volley practice the whole week."

"Sure. Wanna meet up on the public library?" You asked gathering your things, as you turned to Shirabu and saw him cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Fine by me" The male scratched the back of his neck, giving you an awkward glance "Actually, I wanted to ask you phone number" You stiffened "Aw [Surname]-chan, C'mon! You know it's easier."

"But what for? You already have my institutional email"

"You're too formal for your own good, woman" He handed you his phone, nudging the device into your palms "Where do you think this strict act is going to take you?"

You rolled your eyes at him again.

"Actually, Kuroo-san" You made a pause, voicing the words with candour "I want chaos and world domination. But in order to do it, I need to overthrow the dean first" You said while punching the numbers onto the chapped screen of his phone. The ravenette snorted at your reply.

"Oh shit, you're so weird!" And he left out a hyena laugh.

"Way to impress a girl, huh" 

"Only the ones I'm trynna woo" The male smirked when he saw your dumbfounded face.

"Huh? Big words coming from a nerd" You brushed off his provocation. You knew he didn't mean it, but you couldn't prevent your heart to skip a beat.

"Oi, [Name]! What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, the week went smoothly. No Kuroo incidents nor professors bitching over the struggling students.

It was saturday and you were more than ready to spend a whole day inside the library with the ravenette.

Sarcasm? Check.

It wasn't like you hated him. If you were to be honest, it was the other way around — but you would never give Shirabu the taste of being right.

Kuroo just had a special way of getting under your skin. He knew what buttons to push and how to make feel flustered.

You were indeed whipped for him in your first year, but he was an asshole back then — It was kinda comprehensible though: being new to the infamous uni life, freshmen were always seeking acceptance from other people.

Kouhai trying to impress their senpai.

Jocks trying to make a number on the female population.

You trying to grab the attention of that hot guy from welcome ceremony — yes, the one who ended to be the bane of your campus existence.

Yada yada.

But when Kuroo turned you down — without you confessing first, you may add —, your pride was incredibly hurt. You then declared war. Best way to rile up a med student? Make your grades better than theirs.

But of fucking course Kuroo wasn't your regular med student. The competition only provoked meaningless banter — and it annoyed you even more because you couldn't get into his nerves the same way he did to you.

"Oi, [Surname]! You good there?"

"Yeah, yeah, get back to the damn peptides" You definitely despised biochemistry.

You rummaged through the books sprawled over the desk, searching for your Lehninger copy.

"Where the fuck that huge ass book went to?" You murmured, getting ready to go check on your backpack.

Glancing towards your classmate's direction, you spotted it under one of the textbooks he was using, but before you could reach for it, you felt hands gingerly wrapping around your chin, making your eyes lock into his stare.

"What are you doing?" You knew the warmth in your cheeks wasn't being provided by his body temperature.

"Conducting an experiment" He said as you melted under his attentive stare.

"Huh?"

"You know, they say exchanging looks causes an increase on Oxytocin synthesis in hypothalamus" The male smirked when a vein popped on your head, your brain recalled that science paper about the physiology on human and dog interactions. You wanted chaos and world domination — but in order to make it, you had to kill Kuroo first.

"Are you fucking calling me a dog?" You squinted at him, ready to fight. He laughed as your slapped his hands off of your face.

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke. You know the hormone of love doesn't work this way." His hyena laugh made presence as the bibliothecary gave you two a dejected stare.

Just a joke, huh?

For a med student, Kuroo Tetsuro would make a shitty doctor if he didn't know how bad his smile was for your heart.

General taglist: @ohmythatmiya @imomomi @neonghxst @differentballooncollection @raenebalgaire

Taglist is open. Send an ask if you want to be added.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Oh. My. God. I just read Summer Flings and it's just too good!! It's so good, I'd love to read another part if ypur not busy or anything ❤️ Love you and your writing 💚💚💚

Summer flings {2}

Part one

It's been a while since Y/N had heard from Grayson, six months to be exact, but she was more than aware he wasn't mourning their relationship.

Despite her better judgment, Y/N kept up with his life through his videos and podcasts, occasionally hearing him brush over something they did together or how she had seduced him into fucking up his deal for the bigger bedroom with Ethan.

Odd doesn't begin to describe the way it made her feel when he'd mention a date he took her to without naming any names or how he was very lonely and needy but she didn't believe the last part.

Even when they were together, Grayson never had a shortage of girls flocking around for his attention and he'd always tell her:

"No need to worry, you're the one I want."

Scoffing, she felt silly for believing him and letting her guard down. It was hard to miss him proudly reading a message for a possible sex date on their recent video and she could tell be wouldn't be alone that night.

It stung to know he had replaced her easily. It fucking broke her to know she really hadn't meant much to him. The place where she once laid was now occupied with who knows how many Instagram models he claimed were never her competition and she always knew he'd bore of her and move onto someone aesthetically pleasing - someone his fans would actually ship him with instead of a random girl who lives an ordinary life.

Shaking her head, she decided to take up the offer to go out clubbing for the first time in forever. She wasn't one for loud music and random bodies rubbing against her but she needed some numbness for a change.

It worked like a charm, the music drowning out her thoughts and while she refused to drink, the atmosphere was enough to make her feel drunk.

She felt hands on her hips - big, manly, shameless as they gripped her harder and brought her back to feel their owner.

Gasping, she tried to shake the man off, pushing his hands away from her until she stopped and wondered...what's the harm? She can afford a few minutes of reckless enjoyment, she was single after all.

Swaying her hips, her arms lifted, hands barely reaching around the man's neck, Y/N allowed herself to lean back onto his chest and that's when it hit her.

"No." She breathes out, abruptly pushing the man off because that perfume...that scent was far too familiar to ignore and once she turned to confirm, she nearly growled at the sight of his face - Grayson.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Dancing!" Grayson shrugs, offering a sheepish smile. "You seemed into it!"

"Until I saw YOU! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" She stumbled through the sweaty bodies, hoping to find some peace and quiet to reconcile the fact she not only saw him but also had his hands all over her. it made her shudder and not in a good way. His touch made her sick to her stomach.

"Can you stop running away? I've got better stamina, I could do this for hours!" His annoying voice only prompted her to speed up but he was right. Her legs already burned and her breathing is fast and shallow. She can't outrun him.

"Oh, says the one that always ran away from arguments! Beware, this is a fucking argument!" Y/N halts, turning around with a glare that could kill.

"I'm not really running away now, am I?" Grayson's shit-eating grin further irritates her, but he couldn't help himself. Its been so long since he saw her...since he had touched her and while he'd never admit it, Grayson needed her.

Y/N was an addiction, a primal want and he was unable to walk away. Until he did. He surprised himself that day too, but he knew his feelings bordered obsession and that would become toxic sooner rather than later. He was protecting her.

After all, Grayson never did anything in half measures, she was just another proof of that. Perhaps it stems from his unhealthy relationships with food, from depression and anxiety and all the things he deemed bad about his life, but he couldn't allow her to become just another unhealthy coping mechanism in his past. 

She deserved better and he made sure to give that to her.

But he's better now and seeing her again felt hopeful. She is hope and he is holding onto that tightrope even when it hurts. He didn’t expect to see her ever again but seeing her felt so, so right.

"You fucked up. Not me. I'm done with you and I made that clear the last time you walked out on me. So yeah, Grayson, fuck off. I won't tell you twice." Y/N stood her ground, ignoring her shaky hands for she couldn't tell if it was the anger or simply his disarming presence. She absolutely hated how his mere presence made her feel.

"Alright." Grayson raised his arms in mock surrender, sighing as he saw the damage he had done. The one woman he'd have give it all for and he fucked up beyond repair. 

"I am sorry...I'm sorry I was such a coward for not telling you the truth back then. I'm sorry I made you feel like you're not enough...like you didn't matter. Because you matter more to me than any girl I've been with. I'm sorry for chasing after you when you told me not to and most of all...I'm sorry I will never be good enough for you." Looking at the ground, Grayson managed a smile. 

She wanted to believe him. God, she really did, but a damaged heart doesn’t trust as easily as before and he had certainly left her heart in a wrecked state.

"It was me. I needed healing and I won't use that as an excuse for shitty things I said or did back then. It might explain my behavior but it will never excuse it. I just hope you find your happily ever after." Pressing his lips together, Grayson shuts his eyes and in moments he sees her future.

He can see her living in a quiet suburban neighborhood, her house colored in crazy patterns because she insisted on doing it herself. He can see the dog she'd get, the one she’d never have because of him. He could hear her laugh, the giggles he used to evoke and her kids...they have her eyes but their face has features he doesn't recognize...features of a man she'd love one day and he couldn't daydream anymore for the thought of her in someone else's arms is agony. He wants her to be happy, but he can’t face that possibility.

Y/N shifted awkwardly, wondering if she should speak to try to fix things because that's what she does - she always caves and makes amends but she couldn't...she couldn't get passed the pain he inflicted so carelessly. Nothing can excuse the way he treated her because the words he threw in her face were aimed at her like a gun, he knew they would truly leave a mark.

"It's okay." He adds, shaking his head. "But I have to say this before I leave...You were never a summer fling, but wife material. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

And he did as he said, he left, not looking back and this was the second time he had left her watching his back in tears.

Tags: @dolansontheblock @wittekfeddysires 

[simons-calling-the-127-squad]

Blindsided - Ten

Credit to original owners of the images.

GN Tattoo artist reader x customer Ten

Warnings: Cursing, uh needles (tattoos and piercings)

Soulmate Au: you can only see the color of your soulmate's eyes until you meet them.

"Dude, I'm sorry, but I have a policy. I can't tattoo you if you're under the influence", you told him, your arms crossed and a chuckled falling passed your lips.

"This is the sixth shop we've been to babe. Let's just go home", his boyfriend said, tugging at his sleeve. The intoxicated boy leaned into the embrace of his boyfriend and pouted.

"I'm so sorry about him", the latter apologized before pulling him out the doors. You instantly broke down in laughter once they were out the doors. Your arms leaning onto the counter and your head lowering to rest in them as you tried to withhold your giggles. Honestly drunk college kids coming with ridiculous requests was one of your favorite things about the job. But the worst thing about the job was only being able to do colorless tattoos, due to the fact you had yet to meet your soulmate. Meaning you could only see the color brown, which definitely makes being a tattoo artist a bit tricky, that's why you stick to piercings the most.

"Another stupid one?" Y/B/F asked as they walked out of their room, leaning their back against the counter to look down at your hunched form.

"Twerking Shrek backpiece", was all you could utter before laughing again. Y/B/F let out a much smaller and shorter laugh at not only the request, but your reaction as well. Soon after Y/B/F retreated back to their room. You were beginning to regain composure when the bell rang, signalling a new customer. You raised your head and pushed your hair back into place as you looked at the new faces. Two males had just walked in. The first was a tall, but kind looking guy. He smiled as he walked to the counter, the other boy close behind due to being significantly shorter.

"What can I do for ya?" Your arms instantly crossed, hoping they were actually sober.

"I was hoping to get my septum done", the tall one said.

"That all you guys need?"

"I was wanting to get my tongue pierced." The shorter said.

"Alright, I'm gonna need to see your IDs' to prove you're old enough to not need parental consent", you informed them. Y/B/F had come out after hearing you speak with the customer's. They took a look at the shorter male's you looked at the taller one's. You both asked them questions to see if it matched what the card said, and they answered correctly. You and Y/B/F nodded at each other to signal they were both good.

"Do you guys have a preference of who does which?" Y/B/F asked.

"I don't care. Ten?" The taller one turned to shorter one. Your eyes followed, first landing on his hair, a brown. Then down to his eyes, at the same moment he looked into yours as well. You could feel the color enter your eyes and how it moved to shade the world in different hues and tints. The sudden burst caused you to stumble back and blink.

"Y/N you good?" Y/B/F asked, moving to help you stand.

"Wait a second…" Johnny said, he too had moved to help Ten. You groaned, your head beginning to throb with the sudden intake of so many new colors.

"Why the fuck did nobody mention how much of a headache this was?" Ten asked, his voice slightly strained.

"Let's get you some ibuprofen bud", Johnny told him. Y/B/F assisted you to the couch, while Johnny did the same with Ten. Y/B/F ran to get the medicine, handing you one and your water before turning to Ten and doing the same. Johnny and Y/B/F went in their room to allow the environment to be quieter, which would also help with the headache. Soon enough it started kicking in and you found the new colors to be more bearable than before.

"People fail to mention how that hurts like hell", you groaned. Ten laughing quietly in response.

"Maybe that piercing will have to wait", he said. Lifting his head slightly to look at you.

"Yeah that's probably the best choice for us both."

Johnny came out a few moments later, paying Y/B/F for their work before asking Ten if he was ready to leave. He made sure to exchange numbers with you before walking out of the shop. Y/B/F told you to go lay down in the back and you nodded, just as you were sitting down on the couch back there your phone dinged. You pulled it out and saw a text from Ten, he was rescheduling and asking about tattoos, he wanted his first one in color soon.

---

It has been a week since you met Ten, and he was finally coming in for his tattoo and piercing. Y/B/F did his tongue piercing while you got the equipment ready to tattoo him.

"You like it?" They questioned, Ten nodded in response upon looking in the mirror at it.

"Alrighty then. I'll be in my station if you need me", they said, throwing their gloves in the trash as they walked by.

"You sure you want me to do the tat?" You asked as you sat down and began prepping.

"Of course I do. In fact I want you to do the rest of mine from now on", he winked at you.

"I'd love to be your only tattoo artist from now on", you laughed and began. He had decided to get one matching yours, Peter Pan flying with Darlings. It would be on a colorful background with the actual characters black and was on his left shoulder. You talked during the entire time, mainly about how this was an amazing first date and thoughts on what to order for dinner later (you both decided on pizza.) You were impressed with how well it turned out, seeing the colors dance on his should made you realize how much you needed to add some more colorful ink to your body.

"Be honest", you ordered as you titled the mirror towards him. His eyes widened and a smile pulled his lips up.

"I love it. It's the greatest thing I could ask for. It's in color, it matches yours, you did it. It'll be a constant reminder that I've found you", he rambled, his eyes drifting to your own. It was cheesy, but it was so adorable.

---

Ten held up to his promise, he never went to another tattoo shop again, and sent all of his friends your way. Your eyes couldn't help but to move to a certain finger, where most people had a ring sitting on it. But you and Ten agreed on tattooing it instead. You couldn't wait to see what else the two of you created together.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty

Words: 3.1K

Warning(s): Explicit language, substance abuse, verbal abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @liith-ium  @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels  @ytwahsog  @scarecrowmax  @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx    @meetthesixxter   @sublimeprincesswasteland  @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

My dad always used to tell me, "wisdom is being young enough to get away with doing something stupid, but still knowing better."

I never paid any attention to it because I didn't have any stupid decisions lined up at the age of eight. Or thirteen. Or sixteen...I guess because I never experienced the art of bad decision making and their damnable consequences, all of that pent up stupidity broke loose when I was seventeen and didn't slow down until I was in my thirties.

Young enough to get away with doing something stupid…

"What the hell are you thinking, Duff?" His older brother yells.

I'm listening with my ear pressed to the door, waiting in the hallway outside of Duff's apartment...trying not to be too mortifiedly embarrassed. 

"Matt, it's—"

"—You're fooling around with a married woman, Duff, I know exactly what it is!" He yells. 

"They're getting divorced, Matt, alright? It's not like I'm-I'm just sleeping with her for the hell of it!"

"She's getting out of a six year relationship and getting a divorce at twenty-three, Duff, don't you fucking think the reasonable thing for you to do is back off and let her actually process that before having sex with her?!" 

"It's not like I'm taking advantage of her! I'm not! She loves me—"

"—She's lost! She's vulnerable! She's confused! She'd fall in love with any bone head that was a good guy right now!" He shouts at him. "What are you thinking, Duff? I mean, honestly, what the hell are you fucking thinking?" 

"I-I don't know!"

"What the fuck happens if the media gets ahold of this? If mom finds out that her son is getting hot n' heavy in cars in dark parking lots with a married girl!"

It's quiet for a second.

"I would explain that they're getting divorced, and—"

"—Bullshit. You know what she'd say? 'Married is married until divorce is finalized'." He states. 

"I think mom would be pretty understanding, Matt. I don't think she'd judge me like you are or try to talk me out of it."

"You sound like dad right now, you know that? Just fucking like him." He cuts. "And it's bullshit because I know you aren't anything like dad which is why I'm so stumped right now." 

"It's not that big of a deal." Duff argues. 

"Has she filed yet?" Matt asks next, not skipping a beat. 

"W-What?" 

"Has he filed yet? Have they filed yet?" 

"I don't know—it's not my fucking business." 

"So you're just sleeping with her and you don't even know if they're even splitting up at this point? Of course not because she probably doesn't even know what she wants!" 

"She told me she's gonna divorce him." Duff tells him, certainty in his tone. 

"Well, actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, don't they?" Matt fires at him.  

...but still knowing better.

The door opens quickly and I pretend I wasn't listening, taking a few steps back as Matt storms out, giving me a second glance before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

I peek into the apartment to see Duff pacing, not paying any attention to me still being out here. 

I take a breath before heading after him. 

"Matt," I say when I get to the parking lot as he goes to his car, "wait."

"You don't owe me an explanation about it, sweetheart, it's between me and my brother." He tells me calmly, getting into his car. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him, catching my breath, before he can close the door. 

He looks at me for a second. 

"Do you? Or a wife or a boyfriend or something?" 

"I have a girlfriend." He tells me. 

"How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

"Like, almost a year, now." He replies, not seeing the point of telling me this. 

"I bet you're really good to your girlfriend, Matt." I say, and he slowly catches on, sighing a little. 

"I try to be."

"Nikki wasn't good to me. For years. While he was killing himself with drugs, he was killing me with how he treated me and how he acted and when you really love somebody you sit and make excuses for them to make however they're killing you seem justified, and it's not. It never is." I explain, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. "And you don't realize it until one day you're watching a woman you loved and trusted tell the world she's been having an affair with your husband. And then those rose lenses shatter and it's clear. You've spent years of your life giving everything to someone who would probably trade you for an ounce of smack if he ran out." I sniffle. "I really loved him, and you're right, I do still love him. I do. But I also know I'd rather die than willingly throw myself back into that hell. I haven't filed yet, but I am going to when he gets back from Japan. And I do love Duff, and he's a very, very good man. I don't know the situation with you guys' father and it's not my business, but whoever and whatever your dad is...your brother is the farthest thing from it. And I know you are, too, just from the way Duff's always spoke of you and your siblings. I'm sorry for the trouble, and I know you're just trying to look out for him, but you need to be proud of him. Not for what you saw earlier, but just for the fact he's a really great person in a city filled with selfish pricks. You need to be proud of him, and he needs to hear that you're proud of him." 

He lets out another breath, processing what I'm saying, nodding again. 

"Have a good night." He mumbles to me, shutting the door, and I let out a breath and head back upstairs, seeing Duff stopped pacing and eventually just plopped onto the couch. 

He looks at me when I come back in, his eyes sad, a solemn look on his face. 

"I'm sorry if you heard any of that." He says to me and I sit down on the couch beside him. 

"It's okay. He's just trying to look out for you, you know?" 

"I know but he doesn't even know the half of it." He sighs. "And I'm not acting like my dad because if I were I'd be sleeping with anything in a skirt and leaving my wife to deal with my eight kids. 

He tells me lowly, hurt in his voice. 

I try to find the humor in it, nudging his side. 

"You have a wife and eight kids?" I ask, smiling a little and he looks at me, his lips tugging at the corners. 

"No," his lips crack the smallest of smiles for a moment, "but even if I did I wouldn't treat them like shit." He adds. 

My hand comes up to discreetly brush against my stomach. 

"Your brother just wants the best for you." I tell him.

"Who cares? It's not his or anybody else's business." He replies, leaning back, rubbing his forehead. 

"I love you." I offer, hoping the words make him relax a little. 

He huffs out a breath, finally looking at me, his hand grabbing mine, pressing it to his lips.  

I did love him, just not the way I thought I did. I mean, when I was in love with Nikki, it was evident to everybody. I looked at him like I worshipped the ground he walked on—because I nearly did. With Duff, people had to ask me whether I really loved him or not. I always thought it was because we were moving so fast that it seemed abnormal, but in photos when Duff and I were together it was obvious he and I had no fucking clue what we were doing. We were happy with each other, and loved each other, but it was like we both subconsciously knew we weren't going to workout. At least we eventually accepted it. 

I could've divorced Nikki, eventually married Duff, anyway, and made the same bizarre decision that Tansy and Axl made to divorce twice before finally getting married a third time, years later, when their shit was together—because even if Duff and I did get married, we wouldn't have made it through the early 90s.

A couple mornings later, I'm going back to my house since the coast is clear from Nikki since he left for Japan. 

Checking the mail, I furrow my brows as I'm sorting through the bills, randomly seeing an envelope with my name on it. 

I take the mail inside and open my letter.

"What the hell?" I mumble, looking at a couple hundred dollar bills.

Then it hits me. 

"Hello?" Karen's voice on the other end of the phone, chipper as ever. 

"Why the hell am I getting sketchy money from Elektra?" I ask. 

"It's from 'Wild Side', Viv." She explains. "Because Nikki credited you as one of the writers, remember? They couldn't write you a check because it's under the table." She adds. 

"Under the table?" 

"To avoid—"

"—Well, I don't want it." I state. 

"Viv, you're getting a divorce. I'd keep every dime I could, honestly." She advises. 

"Karen, that's no…" I trail off, my mind running a mile a minute, piecing it together. "What time is it in Japan?" 

"Uhm, like, 2:00a.m. maybe?"

"Where are they staying?" 

"Vivian—"

"—I need to talk to Doc. Where are they staying?" 

I didn't want to talk to Doc. Don't ask me how I managed to harass my estranged husband from 16 time zones away, but, I did.

"You knew you were gonna divorce me, you piece of shit, that's why you credited me so I'd get money to cover divorce court!" I accuse viciously. 

"I don't fuckin' know what you've been smoking, Vivian, but you sound insane right now!" He fires back. 

"What I've been smoking? What the fuck have you been smoking, Nikki?! Huh?!"

"Have you been sleeping, Vivian?! You're being fucking psychotic!"

"I'll get on a flight and show you fucking psychotic, asshole, you set me up and then left the fucking country!"

"I credited you as a joke—I didn't think they'd actually take it serious and send you part of the royalties!" 

"Bullshit! You and Vanity planned for her to tell everybody about your bullshit with each other, knowing I'd leave you and file for divorce so you could be together!" 

"If I was that fucking mean, Vivian, I wouldn't have credited you so you wouldn't have gotten paid shit, you crazy bitch!" He insists. "And take your goddamn medication!" 

He hangs up and I roll my jaw before throwing the phone.  

I could've killed him had I felt like flying to Japan.

"Then he tells me I'm being psychotic!" I vent to Izzy over the sound of the vacuum. 

"Well, were you?!" He asks me and I cut the vacuum off. 

"No, I wasn't. I just called him out on his bullshit because he loves to think I'm stupid."

"What exactly did you say to him?" 

"That he credited me so I'd get money, that I'd probably put toward paying for a divorce."

"That's not too bad." He furrows his brows a little. 

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact I know he's still seeing Vanity and the whole plan was to tell the world they were engaged, knowing I'd leave him, so they could finally publicly be together." 

He looks at me funny, before asking, "d-did you tell him that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you lost me, Viv."

"What?"

"That's complete bullshit." He states. 

"How?" 

"How? Viv, the man is on a horse-sized dose of heroin on a daily basis—and the crack he would smoke with Vanity—do you think either of them had the energy or mental compacity to conduct a plan like that?" 

"They had the energy to fuck each other, so, my perception of how much they were able to do under the influence has no limits at this point." I argue. 

"I think pregnancy has you cuckoo  for cocoa puffs." He mumbles. 

"Izzy, I'm being serious." I hiss. 

"I am, too, Viv." He tells me. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a complete asshole, but I just don't see Nikki high as a fucking kite coming up with this elaborate plan to leave you so he can be with his side piece while simultaneously deciding he wants you to be financially stable enough to withstand a divorce. He's a mean fucker. If he wanted to leave you, he would tell you to fuck off and file the same day without giving a flat fuck if you could afford it or not." He says. "And he's not seeing Vanity. There's no way she'd keep her mouth shut if they were still together." 

"She managed to keep her mouth shut about it for over a year." I grumble. 

"Yeah, because she was probably hoping he'd leave you for her." 

I stop what I'm doing and look at him. 

"Do you think he would've if she didn't tell everybody about it?" I ask next. 

"I don't know, Viv." He answers honestly. 

"Would you?" 

He glances at me, serious for a moment, before the hint of a smile tugs at his lips. 

"Never in a million years." He says and I smile a little. "Would you leave me for Duff?"

I pretend to think for a second. 

"Depends on who's better in bed." I reply with the response I expected from him and he just blinks at me. 

"Fuck you." He says and I laugh, eventually getting quiet, really thinking about what I said the last time we spoke. 

"I'm not gonna do that to Duff." I say to him and he just looks off for a second. 

"What made you change your mind?" 

"He really loves me, Izzy." 

"Yeah, he does." He shifts on his feet. 

"Do you think...like, if him and me stay together…" I don't have to finish it, he already knows where I'm going. 

"I think it'll be great for the first several months because it always is." Izzy replies. "But once the new wears off and things get more clear…" 

"...Yeah."

NIKKI 

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I beat the phone against the wall so the crazy bitch can't call here again. 

"Two o'clock in the morning and she's making a long distance call just to gnaw my balls over something I didn't even fucking do? And bringing Vanity back up? What the fuck's her problem? 

So, she got money for her credit, oh well. Plenty of people wouldn't necessarily mind seeing a couple hundred dollars for them in their mailbox but of course her ungrateful ass can't even be thankful for it." I hiss to myself pacing my room. "Cunt." I add, grabbing my bottle of wine from the TV stand, taking a big swig of it. 

"Fuck her." I state next. "Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her...fuck," I take my wedding band off and throw it at hard at I can at the mirror in the corner of the room, on the wall, "her!" I yell when it makes impact, taking a step back, and another, falling flat on my ass. 

I don't have the energy to get up, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling. 

Just like my dad. 

Just like my mom.

She just fucking left me...and I made her. 

"Fuck her." I refuse to admit aloud it's my fault because it's not.

Sure, I fucked Vanity, I cheated on her first, but that doesn't give her the excuse to do the same to me. 

"Fuck her." I repeat again.

I kept trying to convince myself I hated her. The truth was I hated myself, and was just trying to get that frustration out by turning on her. 

It was easy to do when I imagined her under Duff while I was across the world, suffering, telling myself repeatedly she didn't give a shit about me.

She was probably thinking of me under a random groupie the entire time I was gone, and I don't blame her. I stayed under random groupies any other time, so why would Japan be any different? Especially after she and I were separated and had no obligations to each other.

I didn't have sex in Japan, honestly. I couldn't. I was too fucked up. I would try to, but it just wouldn't go over too well. My body was give out from abuse, my hands were scabbed from picking, my skin ate up with track marks, my face was sallow. 

Fans would tell me they were worried I had the flu and I'd laugh it off and promise I was okay, then go to my room and stay locked in there until I absolutely had to leave. 

I was on smack, constantly, to the point I wasn't even high but just shooting smack as maintenance, which served as a good excuse when a big magazine reporter came to Japan to talk to me and the guys about the tour and when the topic of Vanity came up…

I try to keep from rolling my jaw as the loser starts his question cautiously, testing the waters to see if I'm going to cut him off and tell him to ask another question or fuck off, or if I'm okay with it. 

I remember Vivian's bullshit idea about me and Vanity wanting her to find out about the affair so she'd leave and we could be together. 

Why the fuck would I go through that much shit just to be with someone like Vanity? 

Leaving Vivian to be with Vanity is like leaving the frying pan to hop into the fire dick-first. 

With this in mind as, "so, who is she to you?" finally leaves his mouth in reference to Vanity, pen in hand, ready to jot my answer and spread it around America the second it leave my lips, I pretend to think for a moment, and finally reply, "she was my fiancée." 

[jising-jisang-jisung]

Ridin' | Quiet Down | 7 days | Love Again | Puzzle Piece

❁❁❁❁❁❁

“Why don’t you just ask her for her phone number?” Donghyuck’s voice rang through Renjun’s mind all night as he fought so hard to fall asleep. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get his mind to calm down, too busy thinking of you.

Yangyang made sure to wait for you again so he can walk into school with you. He was always on guard to shield you from everything. While he was a great friend, you wish he would worry less about you and more about himself. You let out a little giggle, thinking about the meme with the bread cut out. Yangyang to me vs. Yangyang to Yangyang you think to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, a confused pout on his face.

“Oh nothing,” you smile, gesturing that you should keep going. He shrugs, but walks you to your locker nonetheless.

When you open it, a small piece of paper falls out. He leans down to grab it, but you beat him to it. Suspecting it might be from Renjun, you wanted to make sure you at least got a chance to read it, knowing that if your over protective friend got there first, he would trash it without a second thought.

Hey, can we talk?

***-****

~Renjun

Just as you suspected, you shake your head. Still, you pocket the note for later. Maybe you’d consider calling him, but for now, you need to get to history on time. Before Yangyang can ask you about the paper, you remind him that he cannot afford any tardies, racing to your first period classroom.

Throughout the day, you could see Renjun loitering near your locker, but never blocking it or getting so close as to initiate Yangyang’s overprotective mode. He just silently watched you. It felt like the exact opposite of how you used to watch him. Except that he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was staring at you, didn’t follow you when you walked away, and didn’t look away when you made eye contact. You couldn’t help but wonder what was really going on inside his head.

And for the pure curiosity, you decide to text him.

Hey, Renjun? This is y/n

He responded relatively quickly, as if he’d been waiting on this moment all day.

Y/N! Are you free after school? I’d like to talk to you.

y/n: can’t. Hanging out with yangyang

Renjun: oh :(

You leave him on read, partially because you’re still confused as to what he wants from you. He has already had several chances to talk to you. What can he say now that he couldn’t then? But then again, you did cut him short the last time when you spotted your friend.

You decide to drop the thought, and just walk home with Yangyang like normal, playing some video games as well as forcing him to study. “Yangyang! You're going to fail math if you don’t do this!” You yell at him. Finally, you went back home after a day that felt much longer than any day should ever feel. You plopped down in bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

The illuminating glow of your phone as well as its loud roar wakes you out of your precious slumber. You angrily reach for it, upset that you hadn’t put it on silent and now are getting deprived of a peaceful night's sleep. “Hello,” you groggily answer.

“y/n! You picked up!” Renjun’s voice sounds so cheery in comparison to yours.

“Dude, it’s like 2 am,” you whine.

“Don’t call me dude. Anyway do you think you can come out?” he giddily asks.

“Fat chance, if I get caught by my parents, they’ll literally kill me,” you laugh quietly.

“Can’t you climb out your window or something?” He sounds full of hope, like he’s just waiting for a yes.

“Nice try buddy, second floor,” you smile. “The front door is out too, it squeaks.”

“Don’t call me buddy either,” you can practically hear the frown in his voice.

“Then what should I call you?”

“Babe,” he states nonchalantly. You, on the other hand, were thankful that it was just a phone call so he couldn’t see the bright blush on your face when he suggested the pet name. “What about a back door?”

“Hmm, I’d have to be quick. Wait, do you even know where I live?”

“Nope,” Renjun shakes his head, but realizes you can’t see him. “So what’s your address, babe?”

“Shut up,” you feel extra mushy when he calls you babe this time. “I’ll send you my address.”

You get out of bed, throwing on some clothes other than pajamas. Sliding on some leggings and a big hoodie to combat the cool night air, you decide to add a little makeup too, just to spruce things up. A few minutes later you hear a car pull up in the driveway. Quickly, you make a stealthy descent down your somewhat creaky stairs and out the back door, running around to the front to meet Renjun.

“So where are we going?” you ask, falling into the passenger seat. Immediately, you notice how his car smells just like him, and almost check out right in that moment.

“Honestly, I didn’t plan that far,” he awkwardly laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“We could go to the park down the block,” you suggest, since no one will be there at this hour. Renjun puts his car in park and shuts off the engine, beginning to open his door. “Where are you going?” you question him, figuring you would just stay in the car to talk.

“C’mon,” is all he tells you, dragging you out of his car and down to a patch of grass. He lays down, pulling you to rest your head on his shoulder so as to not strain your neck so much.

"Wanna know a secret?" Renjun whispers after a few silent minutes, still looking at the sky. "I've actually never done anything with those girls that the rumors say I have." When you don't immediately jump in with disbelief, he decides to continue, not comfortable with the silence between you. "I just got tired of telling people they weren't true since no one believed me with my reputation," he sighs.

"I believe you," you say, eyes fixed on his side profile. You try to burn the image into your brain so you won't forget the way the moonlight bounces off his cheekbones or casts dainty shadows on his neck.

"Really?" He sounds surprised. You nod, and though he doesn't see you do it, the motion allowed him to feel your actions. "Your turn."

"A secret?" You turn back to the stars, just in case he happens to turn to look at you while you talk. "Well, I used to stare at you a lot and cast my own idealistic boyfriend vibes onto a fantasy version of you," you smile at your own silliness.

"Did I live up to it?" He actually takes you seriously.

"No," you glance at him to see he is still gazing at the heavens. "You're better," you clarify. "You're real."

"Y/n?" Renjun shifts to look at you, causing you to forcibly look away out of habit. "I really like you."

You figure the dark night will do enough to hide your blush and look back at him. "Renjun?" You reply. "I really like you too."

He smiles, its infectious energy leading you to smile widely as well. "We should make this a regular thing," he suggests.

"And by 'regular thing's do you mean a consensual boyfriend/girlfriend relationship?" You laugh a bit at the unfortunate phrasing you both chose.

"Yes, that is exactly what I mean," he begins to shake, breaking out into laughter with you.

"I'd like that," you manage to say between giggles. 

"What about your friend? Pretty sure he hates my guts," Renjun sounded a bit wounded, saddened by the fact that Yangyang doesn't approve of him based on the false accusations of others.

"I guess we'll just have to keep it on the low," you nudge him with your elbow, making him look at you again. You take the opportunity to plant a phat one right on his lipsters. 

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Let's see how long it takes Yangerz to figure it out."

"Did you just call him Yangerz?"

[itsadamcole]

caught

fem!reader x finn balor

Reader and Finn are best friends. Reader begins to think about Finn in a different way, thinking of him as she relieves herself. She thought she could get away with it ....

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: (some) dirty talking, smut

— enjoy this. it’s something i wrote a while ago but never actually posted or published —

masterlist

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit in the hotel room and wait for your roommate and best friend Finn to come back from getting something to eat. You decide to watch some highlights from that day's NXT.

Finn had one of the most important matches of his life today. He was in a number one contenders fatal 4-way match against Johnny Gargano, Dexter Lumis, and Adam Cole to find out who gets to fight Keith Lee for his NXT championship. Finn won the match and you want to watch some highlights.

You watch the highlights on your phone.

You always thought Finn looked nice in his ring gear. It was something about it. You didn't know what. Maybe it was the fact that he's an attractive man and he's wearing tights. Tights that accentuate him in places that make you ache between your legs when you see him in ring gear.

After watching the highlights, you find yourself biting your lip and a small throbbing feeling coming from between your legs. You have never thought about Finn as more than your best friend but recently, you've been imagining yourself getting with Finn. Seeing him in his ring gear did not help these thoughts either.

You put your phone down and lay on your back. You need to relieve this feeling you have between your legs. Your thighs rub together for friction.

Fuck it, you think. He doesn't have to know.

You slowly slide a hand down into your sweatpants, rubbing yourself over your underwear. You close your eyes and bite your lip.

As you do this, you think of Finn. This is the first time you've ever done this. This is the first time you've thought about Finn while you pleasure yourself. You've never thought about Finn in a sexual way. You've always had a little crush on him but you never imagined being with him sexually.

Meanwhile, Finn is driving in his car. He's on his way back to the hotel he's staying at with you. He grabbed your favorite meal from McDonald's. He sends you a text while he's stopped at a red light.

He's surprised when you don't reply back to him.

Finn pulls into the hotel parking lot. He grabs the two bags and gets out of his rental car. He locks the car and checks his phone. Still nothing from you.

He walks into the lobby, saying hi to the receptionist at the desk. Finn caught her staring at him as he walked in.

Finn steps onto the elevator, pressing the number 4 button. The doors close and he checks his phone again. Still nothing.

He finds this very unusual. Usually when Finn says that he had food, you ask him every other minute if he's there yet. He thinks that you're probably sleeping.

The elevator dings and Finn steps off. He grabs the keycard out of the back pocket of his jeans. He hears something behind the door as he unlocks it. He thinks it's something you're watching. He slowly opens the door in case your asleep. He steps into the room and gently closes the door. He finally looks over at you on the bed.

Finn's jaw drops at the sight. He finds you with two fingers inside yourself. Your eyes are closed and you're letting soft moans escape.

Your best friend has no idea what to do. He doesn't know if he should leave or make his presence known.

Your back arches off the bed a bit and you let out a soft moan. Finn freezes when he hears it.

"Fuck, Finn."

Finn drops the McDonalds on the floor accidentally. Your eyes fly open and you gasp. "Finn," you says. "I can explain."

Finn points at you. "Were you just-"

You sit up and you say, "I can explain, Finn."

Finn stands there in shock. His jaw is practically on the floor. You say, "I just needed some help, you know, and I've always thought that you looked good so I kind of was thinking of you?"

He picks up the McDonalds bags and sets them on the little table in the corner. "You were thinking of me?" Finn asks. "How often do you do this?"

You move so you're sitting on the edge of the bed. "That was the first time," you say. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You can't believe that Finn walked in on you doing that.

As soon as Finn turns around, you see a slight bulge in his jeans. Your eyes widen a bit and you press your lips into a line. Finn says, "Since we're admitting things now, I'd like to admit that I've occasionally thought of us, you know, while I've relieved myself."

You blink at Finn and he walks closer to you. "Oh really?" you ask.

Finn nods a bit. He leans over, pressing his hands on the bed. His face is in front of yours. "Sometimes," he says. "I'd also like to admit that I've had feelings for you for the past few months. I've been scared to tell you how I feel because I'm scared that me telling you would ruin our friendship."

You smile a bit and say, "And you catching me moaning your name while I'm touching myself won't?"

Finn's face gets a little close to yours and he says, "You moaning my name turned me on, Y/n."

Your heart is racing. You have no idea what is about to happen next. Will he kiss you? Will he start taking off your clothes?

"What are you gonna do about it?" you ask, your voice a soft whisper.

Finn finally finishes the space between your lips and kisses you. It starts as soft and gentle but quickly turns into a heated kiss. Your hands are on the back of Finn's neck, holding him close to you as the kiss continues.

He gently begins to push you back on the bed, crawling on top of you and hovering over you. The kiss doesn't break.

The two of you move back a bit toward the pillows and you wrap your legs around Finn's waist. You feel the bulge pressed against your sensitive and clothed area. You let out a little gasp as you feel it. You grind against the bulge a bit, earning a little groan from Finn.

You grab the collar of Finn's shirt and pull it over his head. Your eyes wander down to his abs. They have never looked better than they do right now. Finn chuckles a bit and asks, "See something you like, love?"

Your eyes shoot up to Finn's face at the nickname. "I like everything I see right now," you say, smirking. "I just wish that it was a little less clothed."

Finn smiles and gets off the bed. He fumbles with his belt on his jeans and pulls it off. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them off, leaving him in his boxers. You see his erect member straining to get out of his boxers.

"Take off your clothes, love," Finn says. "It's a little bit unfair that I'm standing in front of you almost naked and you're still dressed."

You sit up and pull off the t-shirt you're wearing, completely forgetting that you forgot to put on a bra. Your chest is exposed as you begin to pull off your sweatpants, leaving you in your soaked underwear. You weren't able to release before Finn came in, leaving you soaked.

Finn grabs your ankles and pulls you to the foot of the bed. Your legs hang over the bed and Finn gets down on his knees in front of you. He runs his fingertips up and down your inner thighs for a second before he leans down and kisses them.

You let out a soft sigh as you watch Finn. "Finn, please," you say, almost whining. "Do something. Anything."

He smirks a bit as he runs a finger over your covered heat. He lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders. You let out a soft sigh. Finn says, "So wet for me and I've barely touched you, love."

You're laying flat on your back at this point with your eyes closed, waiting in anticipation. You feel Finn hook his fingers into the sides of your underwear, pulling them down slowly. Your heart races with excitement as Finn tosses the piece of clothing to the floor. Finn runs his finger between your folds and you let out a soft moan. "Finn," you say. "Don't tease."

Finn leans in and attaches his lips to your soaked core. Your back arches off the bed. He begins to suck gently and you let out several soft moans. His tongue plays with your clit and you bite your lip.

After a few seconds of sucking, Finn slips two fingers slowly into you. A knot immediately forms in your stomach. You're already close and Finn has barely done anything.

He begins to move his fingers and you grip the bedsheets, needing something to hold onto. You're already a moaning mess.

"Damn, love," Finn says. "I'm making you go crazy with just my fingers."

You can't speak. Finn adds a third finger and you almost lose it right there.

The knot in your stomach is about to come undone and you moan loudly. "Fuck, Finn," you moan. "I'm so close."

Finn smirks and says, "Come for me, princess." He then begins to suck gently on your sensitive bud. You moan several profanities as you come all over his fingers.

You breathe heavily, looking down at Finn. He pulls his fingers out, making you whimper. He stands up, licking his lips. "I've imagined how you tasted before and that exceeded all my expectations," he says.

You sit up and look up at him. You grab ahold of his boxers and begin to tug them down. His hard member pops out, hitting his stomach. Your eyes almost bug out of your head.

The tights he wore for wrestling could barely contain him but you didn't think he was going to be this huge. The sight makes you wet all over again.

Finn pushes you down onto the bed and crawls onto you. He kisses you gently. You can taste a bit of yourself on his lips. As you kiss him, you reach down and grab his erect member. You pump it a few times. This earns several moans from Finn. "Love, if you keep doing that then I won't be able to last as long as we both want," he says against your lips.

You pull back and say, "Then fuck me already."

Those words make Finn's eyes darken. Something you've never see before. He smirks a bit and lines himself up with your entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist and he slides into you slowly, letting you adjust as he goes. Your head pushes back against the mattress and you let out a groan.

Finn doesn't move when he gets all of him into you. "Tell me when to move, princess," he says.

After a second, you nod, not being able to speak. You couldn't believe that this is happening.

He begins to move slowly and gently. You let out soft sighs. Finn's lips attach to your neck. He kisses it and bites at it, leaving a mark. You moan softly as your hands slide up into Finn's hair.

Finn's movements get a little harder and rougher. You moan louder. "Fuck," you say. "Faster, Finn."

He listens to you and begins to move faster and rougher. A second knot forms in your stomach and your walls clench around Finn, who has begun to twitch inside of you.

As Finn moves, you get closer to your orgasm. Your hands have found their way to Finn's back and you scratch a bit.

Finn says, "I'm so fucking close, princess." He movements begin to get sloppy as he gets closer to releasing.

"M-me too," you manage to get out.

Finn moves deeper, hitting your g-spot. You immediately lose it, coming all over Finn's member. You feel him fill you up. Finn collapses onto you. Both of you breathe heavily and you stare up at the dark ceiling.

He eventually pulls out and lays beside you, pulling the covers over both of you.

You pant, "Did that actually just happen?" You look over at Finn, who you find is already looking over at you.

"You don't sound too happy about it," he says.

You smile and say, "Are you kidding? I'm so happy that happened."

Finn smiles cutely at you.

"I know I should have asked you a very long time ago but will you be mine?" Finn asks. You can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You say, "I thought I already was."

Finn laughs and leans into you, kissing you softly.

[ripspaghet]

bff | 04

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,750

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing

The bell overhead chimes as the doors open, making Seokjin's mouth finally clamp shut before another word can make you slam your head into the register. Your shift had only begun and he was already on a roll about being forced to clean the toilets earlier.

"Welcome to Sil's Coffee, how may we help you?" The slogan fell off your lips like a sigh of relief as you plaster on a bright smile for the customer, coming in from the frigid outside air.

A chuckle erupts from the customer, "I see Seokjin is harassing you again."

"W-What?! I do not-"

"I'd like an iced mocha with caramel. Could you fetch that for me Jin?" Mina slides into the bar chair in front of Seokjin, who bites his tongue before turning around to make her order. The man may loathe his job, but there was no way he'd allow himself to be fired.

"Honestly, just tell him to shut up. You don't have to listen to his whining."

You can hear Seokjin muttering inaudible profanities at Mina and you let out an actual sigh this time, "Seokjin is just expressing himself."

"And this is the best way he knows how? How sad."

"You're coffee." You flinch as a cup is slammed onto the counter and slid into Mina's hands.

"Thanks, handsome." She grins endearingly up at him.

"Can you leave now?" 

"Oh, how rude of you to say to a customer. I wonder what the manager would say?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "Mina, stop, for fuck sake." Seokjin is presumably the only person who dislikes Mina more than Jimin, although Mina doesn't dislike Seokjin. She actually likes him, despite his constant rambling. 

Another chime grabs everyone but Mina's attention back to the entrance to see your stumbling yellow-haired friend enter the shop. He swore as he tripped on the entrance's floor-mate, but quickly composed himself and looked up to send you a dazzling smile before gracefully making his way over the seat in front of you, "Good morning, my ray of sunshine." You open your mouth to return the gesture just before someone else strides in behind him. Dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin sporting a baggy tee and flannel with tight frayed jeans. You grimace at the sight. Of course, he was here. Why wouldn't he be? Mina was here and wherever Mina was, he had the right to be.

"Couldn't you have done us all a favor and let yourself fall?"

"Like I'd ever do a favor for the likes of you." Jimin retorted swiveling around in his chair. 

It's been exactly three weeks since your first session with Yoongi began and you still haven't grown comfortable with the whole ordeal. Especially since Yoongi had all of a sudden started making an effort to include himself in Mina's life more, resulting in him almost always being around. Which is great for Mina, just not so great for you.

"Anyways, how is my love doing?" Jimin reached out for your hands and smiled at you in a way that made it impossible for you to not return the gesture.

"I'm alright." You squeezed his hands reassuringly before pulling away to make his usual drink. At least you had Jimin most of the time. He did a great job of pulling your attention off of the guy just a few feet away from you and settling your nerves.

"I heard how Namjoon left you high and dry. Taehyung has been dogging me for studying material ever since. Is your project coming along alright? I can help you with it?" You tense as you begin pouring the chocolate syrup into Jimin's drink. Maybe you'd spoken too soon again? You hadn't told anyone about studying with Yoongi, out of fear of what Mina would do and judging from the lack of passive aggression coming from her, Yoongi hadn't said anything either.

"N-no, I've got it. You don't need to do that."

"She'd fail for sure if you helped her."

"Mina, nobody was talking to you. Can you shut that trap of yours?" You turn back around and place Jimin's cup in front of him just as Mina reaches over to whack him on the back of the head.

"Yah! Don't you touch me, you witch!"

"Me? A witch?" Mina laughed, "Well, that must make you a troll."

"Mina, stop that." Yoongi's cold metallic voice caught you off guard and you made the mistake of shifting your gaze over to him just as Mina began whining, merely to see he was already watching you, his brown eyes intense and dark. 

Things have been very awkward, for you to say the least. You didn't know what to make of this new relationship you had with Yoongi. Hell, even calling it a relationship felt weird and from every angle, it just seemed wrong. When you so much as looked in Yoongi's direction you felt like you'd just transgressed some imaginary line you'd drawn for yourself. Or maybe it had been drawn by Mina. It was normal for the girl to be possessive and paranoid, even more so when it came to a guy she liked. Mina had been friends with a girl in the past that had stolen guys from her left and right, so now she always assumed you, one of her few female friends, was always plotting against her and knowing this made you extremely cautious.

"You two have been extra snarky this week."

You cleared your throat, trying your best to not seem uncomfortable, "Would you like something to drink, Yoongi?"

"A black coffee would be nice."

You nodded, turning again only to have Seokjin place a black coffee in your hands, "I figured he'd order that again, so I went ahead and made it."

"Oh, here," You slid the drink over to Yoongi, sure to avoid eye contact this time.

"Well, with ____ spending all her time studying lately, I'm left alone to deal with this nuisance." Mina jabbed her finger at Jimin.

"What? I'm the nuisance and yet you're the one constantly complaining about this and that and never shutting up?"

"Shut your mouth Park." Mina flushes red as Yoongi turns his head over, suddenly taking interest in their conversation.

Jimin scoffs and turns back to you, "So, can I hear it?"

"Huh?" You tilted your head.

"Namjoon told me about it, don't be coy. I wanna hear it."

Your cheeks flush at the realization of what he was talking about, "He did what?! No way. I'm not letting you hear anything."

"What are we talking about?" 

"We," Jimin looking back at Mina, pointing at her and then himself, "aren't talking about anything. Me and ____ are." Mina scoffs and turns away from him as he does the same, overeating his attention back on you, "My best friend won't let me hear her sing?"

"What best friend? Last I checked you have no friends." Mina mumbles under her breath, rolling her eyes at Jimin's pouting lips while sipping her drink. He scowls but is quick to ignore her in favor of you.

Damn, they really are at each other's necks right now.

"Why are you embarrassed? I know you're good. Namjoon said your voice is amazing. In fact, he gushed about it."

"Stop rambling and leave me and my voice alone, Park Jimin."

"You cutie, you're all red, like a tomato." He reaches up to pinches at your cheek but you quickly swat his hands away.

"Shut up."

"Let me hear it and I'll shut up for the rest of my life, just for you."

"No." You turn away from him to busy yourself with work, emphasizing your seriousness. There was no way in hell you'd ever let Jimin, or anyone else for that matter, hear you sing. Sure, Namjoon and Yoongi had heard it, but- your gaze drifted over to Yoongi again to see a small smirk playing on his lips as he stirred his coffee. 

"God, you two make me wanna vomit. I can't believe you refuse to admit your dating each other." Seokjin finally spoke again as he wiped down the counter-tops.

"Seriously, get a room," Mina adds.

"Says the two who bicker at each other like a married couple," Jimin smirked over at Mina, who just about spit her coffee out her nose.

"What?!"

"We do not!"

Message from Min Yoongi- 8:11am: The door is unlocked. Just come in when you get up here.

After work, you stalled around a bit before heading towards Yoongi's. You knew if you left right after your shift, Jimin would've tried to tag along. He normally walked you home when he got the chance and as far as he knew you'd been going home every week to work on your project alone. 

Your stomach turns as the elevator finally comes to a halt, the doors sliding open, and you step out. More than anyone else, you wanted to tell Jimin about this. You knew he'd have the best advice for you, but you also realize that Jimin hates Mina. He would probably let the information slip on purpose just to piss her off. He'd prefer not to be friends with her because, in his opinion, she's faker than all the plants in his dance teacher's office. You don't doubt he'd take any chance he could to try and show you that, probably saying something along the lines of, "It's for your own good, trust me."

Honestly, you're starting to get pretty sick of this. All the elevator rides you've had to endure are almost as bad as riding an airplane, never knowing if it's going to give out or just break and send you to a gruesome death. You head for Yoongi's door, sending a glare back at the box of threatening death as it's doors slide shut again. You've tried to convince Yoongi on countless occasions to meet elsewhere, but he declines each time, saying, "Why would I go somewhere else when I'm most comfortable here?" You roll your eyes at the memory. That self-centered jerk doesn't care what you put yourself through every week to get to here. Making sure none of your friends, especially Mina, see where you're going, facing your fear of that dumb elevator while doing so, and lying practically to Jimin. Mina would assume you're sleeping with Yoongi if she ever found out. It wouldn't matter what you told her. And imagine if she did find out, even after all your efforts? Every week you had to put up with Min Yoongi's self-centered attitude and constant complaints about how you're, "Too early." Or, "Too late." Not to mention you've been feeling under the weather lately.

One of these days you're really gonna to jump from one of the windows on this floor just to escape from Min Yoongi, because at this point it feels like there is no escape. You go to school, he's there with Mina. You go to work, he shows up with Mina. What did you have in life, if not peace away from that guy?

You give the front door two gentle taps before entering. The penthouse was the same as always, warm and quiet, as the world outside opposed it. It was probably the only thing you enjoyed when meeting with Yoongi, the quiet, something you normally got so little of.

"Back here!"

You jump, whirling in a full circle before figuring out where the voice came from. You follow it down a hallway and to a room. Little decoration fills the room and it's relatively empty, except for a grand piano occupying the center.

"I figured we could transfer your cords into a melody on the piano to place at the deeper parts of the song. I have a feeling it will sound good with your voice." 

Your breath catches in your throat, your wide-eyed stare never leaving the piano Yoongi is sat at, as he writes, what assumed to be, notes onto a piece of paper.

"Come sit, " He gestures you over, still not looking at you. Your feet feel like they've rooted themselves to the floor and it takes all of your strength just to do as he says and bring yourself to the piano, trying your best to ignore the way your heart stills as you sit down next to Yoongi, a sharp fear piercing through you like cold wind.

"You play?" Your voice comes out dry as your eyes linger on ivory keys.

"Yeah, I learned when I was little." Yoongi finally brought his gaze over to you to watch as you lightly move your fingertips up and over the keys, "Do you?"

You frown and pull your hand away from the piano, "No."

Yoongi hums and places his fingers onto the keys before playing the first few notes of your song, "That's too bad. This would be a lot easier if you did."

"Well, I don't." You sneer at the sound of your song coming from the piano and stand back up, realizing that this had been a horrible idea, "Listen, I'm not feeling up for this today. I'm gonna go." Your mind was beginning to cloud with distraught memories and all you could focus on was getting away from the piano as you stood up. You weren't fast enough though.

Yoongi stood up after you, following you out of the room, "Is everything alright?"

"I just want to go home."

His pace quickened as you approach the front door and he was in front of you before you could reach it, "Do you not like the piano idea?"

You glare at him, "The idea is fine, I just want to go home, as I said."

His eyes dart all across your face as if he's still trying to read you, to understand what had set you off.

"I'll be going now." You attempt to sidestep him, only to be abruptly cut off by Yoongi placing a hand to your forehead, "W-what are you-"

"You look really pale, I don't think you should-Woah," He steps back out of shock after feeling your temperature, "you're burning up."

"I'm fine, just let me-"

"____," Yoongi's eyes narrow on you, his voice dropping a couple octaves, "go sit on the couch and I'll get you some medicine."

You hesitate for only a moment before giving in, "Fine, whatever." You stomp away from him, over to the couch before plopping down onto it. Admittedly, your head was starting to pound and you couldn't deny the cold sweat that was beginning to settle in along with the aching of your whole body. It'd be just your luck that you'd caught the flu or something, only to start showing symptoms after arriving at Yoongi's, of all places. You'd honestly prefer being at Jimin's house right about now and he'd probably be smothering you right about now. You should've just canceled today and walked home with Jimin.

"Here, take this." Yoongi returns within a few minutes, crouching down in front of you before placing a pill in one of your hands and a glass of water in the other, "This should reduce your fever." 

"And how am I suppose to trust that you're not drugging me?" You raise an eyebrow at him accusingly, but he just gives you a skeptical look.

"It's ibuprofen, ____." 

You watch him hesitantly, before plopping the pill into your mouth, and tilting your head back to drink the glass of water. You hadn't expected yourself to drink the whole thing, but you did, and rather quickly. 

Yoongi takes the glass from you and places it on the coffee table behind him, "Are you hungry?"

"I really don't-" You're cut off by the sound of your treacherous stomach growling at the mention of food.

"I'll make soup." Yoongi gets up again, heading back to the kitchen before you get the chance to protest further than you already have. Your head is starting to spin and you have to lay down just to keep yourself from running to the bathroom to vomit. No way would you be caught dead throwing up in Min Yoongi's bathroom. You'd jump from a window before that happens. You close your eyes, waiting patiently for Yoongi to return with food. You hadn't even noticed yourself drifting off.

The ground beneath is dry, altered to a sandy substance. Dull silence replaces loud screeching alarms, and instead of hazy darkness, something else lurks amongst the unknown. The difference between now and then is an odd sense of familiarity tugging at your heart. You know all too well what this nostalgia is, but you refuse to move towards it. The mere memories are enough to coax out inner demons dwelling behind your walls. A place you once called home.

“It's unnecessary, ____.”

A harsh memory, filled with a harsher smell of gin and gasoline forces itself forward. One of those memories a child prefers to suppress, yearning to someday forget it...pretend it never happened. Although, bad memories die-hard, just as bad habits do and the specific way that man had always held onto second agendas and gave everything a double standard was etched into your mind. You can never seem to escape him, no matter how hard you try. 

Especially here. 

Such a strange feeling it gave you. Do others feel this? A looming dark hole in the cradle of their heart, remaining, even if eventually, and inevitably, a change comes. A childlike intuition told you how it was fated, as it was for a reason beyond your knowing that the place you once called your home would burn, that - that man's eyes would close and the smell of gin and gasoline would fade into something much more horrendous, along with that godforsaken piano. And then, and only then, you would realize that home never truly felt like home.

"____?"

And him, that damned voice will only further remind you of that misery and loss.

"Wake up, it's just a dream."

Mark my words.

"____," You whimper at the feeling of someone's hand against your cheek and you lean into it, "what's wrong?"

Your eyes open slowly and it's only then that you realize the wet tears running down your cheeks, "W-what?"

"Why are you crying?" You look up, seeing Yoongi's dark worried eye on you as he wipes away your tears with his thumb.

You sit up slowly, your head still spinning and skin still aflame with a fever, "I-I don't remember."

"Here," Yoongi moves an arm under your legs and to your back before hoisting you up.

"W-what are you doing?! Put me down!" You have no strength to fight against him in your current state, but that doesn't stop you from yelling at him.

"I'm moving you somewhere comfortable, be quiet." He walks out of the living room and back down the hallway that had previously brought you to the piano room, only this time he walks passed that room and into another at the end of the hallway. He sits you down on a bed and covers you with a blanket, "I'll go heat up the soup, and once you're done eating you should get some more sleep."

You only nod and watch as Yoongi leaves the room before pushing the covers off of you and standing back up. You make your way over to the door and back down the hall, only briefly stopping to leer into the piano room. You'd have to make up an excuse later to leave the piano out of your song. There's no way you'll be able to stomach hearing the sound of it every time you work on the piece. Once you make it to the front door you're quick to exit, despite hearing Yoongi's footsteps exiting the kitchen at the same time. You don't care all too much if he sees you leaving, you just need to leave. Sure, your head is spinning and your joints ach, but letting Yoongi take care of you while sick is crossing that line that had been laid down. 

While in the elevator you have to sit on the floor and pray to reach the bottom soon. The motion of moving down is only making you all the more nauseous, so when the doors finally open you're surprised to see that the sun has already set, despite you showing up here early this morning. Had you really slept that long? Yoongi must've had his curtains closed. You stand back up and your stomach growls in anger as you make your way out of the building. You really were hungry, to the point that it feels like your stomach is digesting itself, but you're desperate to get away. You don't want any misunderstandings.

"Madam, may I assist you in finding a-"

You cut off the doorman, turning in the direction of your apartment, "I'm fine."

"Miss, the streets are dangerous at this time of-"

"I'll be fine, Jackson. Good night." You ignore the polite man's pleas for you to let him help you and continue down the street and away from him. You have no money for a taxi or uber and you aren't going to let someone else, you barely know, pay for you. The last thing you need is to owe someone or make them think you're poor, not that you aren't, due to college debt, but that's beside the point.

"Woah, look what we've got ourselves here." A group of burly looking men walk around the corner of an alleyway just as you're about to pass it and your expression turns sour. Of all the nights. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out so late?" There's four of then, but only the tallest of the bunch is quick to close the distance between the two of you.

"I don't think that's any of your damn business." You glare up at him, attempt to regulate your breathing. Your fever is making you feel like you're extremely out of shape so that just the smallest amount of walking you've done so far had you almost breathless.

"Oh! A feisty one!" A disgusting grin pulls up the man's cheeks as he laughs at your bold response.

"Get out of my way." You wave your hand at him, trying to move around his broad shoulders only for another one of the guys to come up beside him, blocking your way.

"No, I think you should stay and hang out with us for a while."

You huff and run the back of your hand across your forehead, nonchalantly whipping away the sweat to try and hide how weak you actually felt before letting a fake smile pull up your lips, "Oh, yeah?"

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out you're darting across the empty street.

Yes, you felt like shit, but that didn't mean you were gonna give up without a fight. The group of men yells after you, taken by surprise and you can hear their heavy feet scurrying after you. Thankfully, you're fast enough that once you've made it across the street you can start towards the nearest convenience store. Thinking you're about to be home free, your heart races with anticipation only to sink down in terror a second later as a hand yanks you into an alleyway way and covers your mouth, muffling your scream. You thrash and kick, panic shocking your body like electricity.

"Stand still, ____. You're going to break my nose." The whisper has you stilling in the person's arms.

"Yoon-"

"Shut up!" He whispers yells, covering your mouth again. 

"Damn it! Where did she go!?"

"I almost caught her."

"No, you fucking didn't! You were behind all of us, you idiot !"

You freeze and sink further into the person's arms out of seer terror as the four men pass the alleyway you're hiding in.

"When I find that bitch, she's gonna wish she never ran."

The grip around you tightens in an almost protective sort of way. The feeling comforts you, but tears still begin welling up in your eyes before the group of men finally carries on down the cold streets. Once they're out of hearing range the hand over your mouth moves and you're turned around to face none other than Min Yoongi.

He eyes you up and down, concern evident in his features, "Are you alright?"

You can only imagine how not alright you look, cheeks red from the cold, eyes glassy from fear, after having your adrenaline wear off. You probably look like a complete mess, but you still manage to nod in response to his question.

"Are you stupid? What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay because you weren't feeling well and now look what you've gone and gotten yourself into. Why couldn't you just listen to me? Something could've happened. What if I didn't followed you?"

You stare up at Yoongi, trying to listen to what he's saying and gripping his arms tightly to keep yourself upright as a loud thumping began echoing in your ears, everything around you starting to spin, "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"____?" 

You fall, losing your grip on Yoongi as all your strength leaves your body, and you faint.

You groan and stretch, your eyes slowly opening. The light shining in through your window burns your retinas.

"Finally, I was beginning to think you were dead."

"Huh?" You look over, next to your bed to see Jimin sitting there with a tray of breakfast in his lap.

"How-What are you doing here?" You croak.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, "You don't remember? You must have felt pretty bad."

"Jimin, " You cough, trying to sit up, and he's quick to help you, "what are you talking about?"

"You texted me last night that you felt really sick and needed help. I was surprised at first, but once I got here I understood that you weren't kidding. You were tossing and turning in bed and sweating as if you'd just ran for hundreds of miles." 

You frown, trying to recall your memories from last night. 

"Are you alright?" Jimin rubs your back soothingly.

"I-I'm fine." Your voice squeaks as you push Jimin's hand off you.

He raises an eyebrow at you again, your reaction surprising him, but drops it, figuring it's probably because you're sick, "Well, here's your breakfast. I'm going down to the cafeteria to get you some water. Call me or text me if anything happens or if you need something, okay?"

"O-okay, " You take the tray of food from him and he nods before getting up and leaving. You look around your room, briefly glancing over at your roommate's bed. Hopefully, she'd been out all night and hadn't seen anything.

You jump as your phone starts ringing, your tray of food nearly flying up in the air. You quickly grab your phone, accepting the call without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hm, you sound a lot better today. How are you feeling?"

The sudden sound of his voice has your whole face heating up and your stomach flipping over in an unexplained manner, "Y-Yah! Why are you calling?! What do you want?!"

"What are you being rude for? Didn't I save your life?"

You scoff, "I would've been perfectly fine without your help. I had a plan."

"Oh, really?" He asks sarcastically, "And what was that? Run until you collapse from exhaustion?"

"I-I don't need to explain myself to you!"

"Right, it's not like I had to drag you all the way to your dorm last night, because you refused to listen to me, or anything."

"I didn't ask for your help!"

"Well, since you seem to be fine now and you don't need my help, I'll hang up." His voice is condescending and mocking. The sound of it makes your blood boil and you can't help but respond with malice.

"Fine! Hang up!"

"Try not to go running down the street in the middle of the night again, yeah?"

"I'll do whatever I want!"

His laughter fills your phone's speaker and you found yourself turning even redder, "I'm sure you will, ____, seeing as you do that and nothing else."

"I'm hanging up!"

"Alright, "

"Shut up!" You pull your phone away from your ear swiftly and end the call. You huff and throw your phone to the end of your bed. You can't understand why you'd just been so childish. He had helped you. Why did you respond so absurdly? You could feel something burning inside your chest, the feeling of it was making you irrational. You run your hands through your hair distress-fully and whine, "What's wrong with me?"

.

.

.

tags

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800