#also onions hair changes every time i draw them

[starrysharks]

still getting used to savory's new design so you're getting more interaction doodles

[boldlyvoid]

Got a little carried away thinking about what I’d do for Spencer after Maeve died.

Cw: depressed Spencer, food mentions, reader is worried he might commit suicide, he’s fine tho

He’s not answering the door. She taps her foot anxiously and knocks again, “Spencer open the fucking door.” Still nothing. “You’ve got 5 seconds before I kick the fucking door down and you lose your deposit. It’s not a fucking joke anymore.”

Nothing. She pushes all the baskets out of the way, shakes the door to see how sturdy it is and then backs up, she lifts her leg and puts all her force into the kick. When she collides with the wood, she uses all of her body weight to push it forward, snapping the hinge and watching the wood fly in different directions.

She steps inside, the place is an absolute mess, he opened books and ripped pages. A chess set has been thrown across the room. A mirror fell and cracks, his curtains are ripped. All his drawers are open. “Spencer? Where are you?”

She walks into his bedroom to find it neat and tidy, his bed hardly slept in and piles of clothes thrown about. And sees that the bathroom door is closed and her heart sinks, “Spencer I’m coming in.”

She gives him a chance to cover up if he’s in there before twisting the door handle and opening the door, it opens fine and there’s nothing in its way. Inside she can't see him right away, not until she pulls the shower curtain back. He’s curled up in the fetal position with headphones on, listening to an audiobook that sounds like Leonard Nimoy's voice.

She smiles, getting down on her knees and lightly rubbing her hand over his shoulder. It startles him awake and his eyes fly open. He gasps and jumps back, “what?”

“You weren’t answering.”

“And?”

She just stares at him in silence. “I broke your door, I’ll pay to have it replaced, but I couldn’t let you keep ignoring me.”

“I’m fine.”

She nods. “Can I clean your house? You can go back to sleeping in here, it looks cozy?”

“It feels like a hug.”

“Do you want a real one?”

He nods and lunges forward, wrapping himself around her with the porcelain tub edge cutting into her stomach, he’s holding her so tight. “You’re okay.”

“Thank you.”

She doesn’t say anything because she knows that was hard enough for him to say, he doesn’t need to do anything more today. “I’m not leaving, I hope you know that.”

“You don’t have to stay,” he tries to push her help away.

“I didn’t ask, I was telling you. I’m staying here. You’ll have to call the cops to get me out of here, we’re making dinner, we can watch Star Trek and if you want. I can tickle your back again like I did that night in Omaha? When you told me how your mom used to do that to help you fall asleep as a kid?”

He nods, “can I nap first?”

She hugs him once more and kisses the top of his head, “do you want to move to your bed?”

“Please?”

She helps him up and brings him over there, tucking him in and turning to leave when he grabs her hand. “Don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want any other help, it’ll overwhelm me.”

“Of course buddy,” she smiles down at him.

She leaves his room and heads right to the maintenance office of his building. She pays for his door and offers to replace it herself for the inconvenience. It’s more difficult than she expected but his door closes and it’s fine. And she gets a second key, pretending to be his girlfriend and being given the spare. Next time she won’t have to break the door.

So she locks it and heads to the store, placing a note on his pillow so he doesn’t feel abandoned again, she’ll be home again soon.

She buys the essentials for Spencer’s favourite soup, making it for him from scratch while also cleaning his apartment to the best of her ability. She buys garbage bags and cleaner at the store, opening the windows and dusting everything. He’s still got his headphones on so she doesn’t feel too bad about turning on the vacuum, but he doesn’t wake up until he smells the soup.

It’s just a basic chicken noodle, but she sautéed the carrots, onion and celery first, drawing out the flavours before mixing in the chicken pieces. She cooks them up with all the seasonings she could find, he was surprisingly well-stocked in the spices department. Adding the water, she lets it simmer and out he stumbles.

“It smells delicious,” he rubs his eyes and walks into the room, “Woah, I can see the floor again.”

“I wrote down a list of every book that was destroyed, in case you want to get new copies? I never threw them out, they’re just in a bag, I didn’t know if they were triggering or just in reach.”

“Just in reach,” he smiles. “Thank you, this is really helpful.”

She smiles and joins him on the couch, watching reruns of Star Trek on the science channel and listening to all his facts. She had already watched every episode with him in hotels across the US, but back then she didn’t get the commentary, he wanted her to enjoy it. Now he tells her all the little facts, he pauses and backs things up to show her continuity errors and he repeats all his favourite quotes and he smiles.

By the time they get to eating dinner, Spencer’s starving and actually excited for the meal. He eats a little too fast, she has to remind him to take his time, his stomach has been empty for too long and it’ll make him feel worse. He listens, enjoying it now that he slows down, appreciating the fact she took the time to care for him.

When she gets into bed beside him she can tell that he’s tense, “you can tell me everything on your mind or nothing at all. I’m here for what you need, I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Just cuddles? No talking? I’m not ready.”

“Sounds good,” she opens her arms and lets him settle into her embrace.

She rubs her hand over his back, bumping along the fabric of his T-shirt and attempting to soothe him before he sits up and takes it off, throwing it to the side and snuggling back in. It’s easier this way, she can feel the bumps on his skin as her fingers trace down his back and her nails lightly drag their way back up. Over and over she does it in a figure-eight motion, the infinity symbol, hoping He's aware enough to know she means she’s going to be there for him forever.

She can tell he’s asleep when his breathing changes, his body gets heavier and his hand drops from her side to the mattress.

“Dream of me?” She whispers against his hair, hoping his subconscious will listen. “I promise I’ll take care of you in there too.”

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum​ coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

[whumpy-writings]

Fed and Watered

Masterlist

The story of 023, aka Henri, and Aldon continues. @thecyrulik asked if Henri's life was going to get better, so here is some comfort and fluff for poor Henri. This post is also dedicated to @whumpsy-daisy , 023's number 1 fan!

CW: Vampires, slavery, dehumanization, anxiety, starvation, disordered eating, mention of past physical and mental abuse, nudity (non-explicit/non-sexual), scars, (and fluff, I promise)

The last thing he remembered was Master telling him to breathe. Now the ground beneath him was soft.. No. Not the ground. A bed. Henri’s eyes flew open in a panic. Humans weren’t allowed on beds. He rolled to the side, falling off the bed and onto the wooden floor. Oof. He rubbed his sore nose, wincing. Henri looked around the room. It was large with dark wooden furniture giving it a sense of finery. The walls were lined with red tapestries which depicted various scenes from folklore.

Henri’s eyes stopped when they reached a small table. On the table was a bowl, and he could see the steam rising from it. Terror swept through him. Master had said it would be a couple days but apparently had changed his mind. Henri crawled over so he could clearly be seen from the door and knelt, heart pounding. Breathe, he told himself. In... out...in...out. His mind started to wander. This was his life, all he was was a meal for his betters. But sometimes… sometimes he still wished for more. He tried to push those thoughts away but they always came back, sneaking into the corners of his mind that weren’t completely dark. Thoughts of a life without fear. A life without pain. He jumped as the door opened, heart in his throat. Master stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders almost filling the entire frame. Master’s eyes fell on Henri, and Henri had to suppress the urge to flinch. A frown.

“You don’t need to do that here, Henri, you can stand up.” Henri rushed to get to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Next thing he knew, Master was next to him, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Careful there.” Master glanced over to the table with the soup, a crease on his brow. “Why haven’t you eaten, Henri? You must be starving.” Henri looked from the soup to Master and back again, confused. He wasn’t allowed to eat yet. Henri tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck for Master.

“No, I don’t want that,” Master said quickly.

Henri let out a sob. He was so hungry, but he couldn’t eat yet. “Please Master, please I’m so hungry and I can’t eat until you have.”

…

Aldon froze, shocked. He had never heard of such a thing. “Was that your old Master’s rule?”

“Yes sir.” Aldon considered this, horror building in his stomach.

“How often did your Master feed?” he asked.

“Usually about three times a week, sir,” Henri replied quietly.

Aldon gaped. No wonder the human was so weak. Humans needed to eat at least once every day, much more often than vampires. Aldon took a deep breath, thinking of what to say.

“Here there is a different rule. I need you to be healthy, and eating three times a week is not going to accomplish that. You’re to eat everyday, whether or not it’s a feeding day. Anytime you’re hungry, let me know and I’ll get you some food.”

Henri looked at him in shock, big blue eyes huge. Then he started to cry. “Thank you for your kindness, Master.”

Aldon’s heart broke a little at being thanked for granting the bare minimum for survival. “Of course, Henri. Now why don’t you eat your soup? I’m going to go draw a bath for you.”

…

The soup was heavenly. It was warm, with potatoes and carrots and onions. There was a slice of bread too, which filled his mouth with yeasty deliciousness. Henri savored each bite. When he was done he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He was full. He hadn’t been full in… he didn’t even know how long.

...

Aldon felt the bath water. Not too hot, not too cold. He turned off the tap, drying his hands on the nearby towel. Time to get Henri. Aldon walked down the hall, gently rapping on the door before poking his head in. “The bath is all ready. Did you eat?”

Henri nodded vigorously, a ghost of a smile on his pale face. “Yes Master, Thank you Master.” He got out of the chair, hesitating for an instance. “Master…” he said, face going white, “I’m sorry for using the furniture without permission. Please forgive me.”

Aldon took a calming breath. Henri’s old master was certifiably, undeniably, an awful person. “No need to apologize Henri, you are allowed to use any of the furniture that you want.”

The relief was apparent on Henri’s face.“Thank you, Master.”

Aldon turned around hurriedly so Henri would not see the rage on his face. The ways some people treated their humans were just despicable.

“Come on Henri, let’s get you cleaned up.” Henri followed Aldon down the hall to the bathroom. It was small, with a white clawfoot tub and floors and walls covered in white ceramic tiles. This was one of the few houses in this part of the city that had the luxury of running water. Aldon turned back to Henri, only to find the man already undressed, pants on the floor. Aldon turned away immediately, cheeks burning.

“Is something the matter, Master?” Henri asked, voice filled with uncertainty and a tinge of fear

.

“No, I just was going to give you privacy to change. You’re allowed privacy here,” he quickly added.

“Oh,” a pause. “Thank you, Master,” Henri said quietly.

“You can climb in the tub now.” Aldon averted his eyes as Henri climbed in, then turned to the human sitting in the tub, bubbles up to his chest. “Would you like help bathing, or will you be able to do it on your own?” he asked carefully.

Henri considered this for a moment. “I would like a bit of help with my back and my hair, if you would be willing to. This hair is… a mess.” he said, gesturing to the greasy blond mop on his head.

“I can definitely help you with that.” Aldon knelt down next to the tub and picked up a cloth. He could hear Henri’s elevated breathing and could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “You’re okay Henri, how about we take a couple breaths?” Aldon led Henri through a couple rounds of deep breathing, until the human had calmed down.

“I’m sorry Master,” Henri said, staring down at the water, regret thick in his voice.

“Hey,” Aldon said, reaching out and taking Henri’s chin in his hand, gently making him look up at him. Henri’s blue eyes sparkled, threatening to spill tears. “I know this has been a big change for you. Anybody would be nervous in your place. I’m really proud of how well you’re doing.”

Henri blushed. “Thank you, Master.” he said.

“Of course, Henri,” Aldon said, picking up his cloth and dipping it in the water. He started to gently rub his back. Aldon pressed his lips together. Every single rib and vertebra was visible, creating deep ridges in the skin. Henri was covered in dirt and the water quickly starting to take on a brownish hue. Aldon paused when he glanced at Henri’s neck. There was a scar there, two actually. They were parallel to each other, running from the base of his skull all the way to the collarbone. Almost as if… someone had dragged their fangs down his neck. Aldon pursed his lips, fingers lingering on the scar. Henri froze, beneath his touch. “Henri, who did this to you?”

Henri didn’t respond for a second, and Aldon started to worry that maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. Then finally Henri said, “Mas… Old Master” A pause. “I… I tried to run away.” Aldon cocked an eyebrow at that. Henri continued in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t have, that I should have been grateful for his protection. I didn’t make it far. This,” his fingers went to the scars, lightly tracing them “was my punishment. He wanted to make sure I knew who I belonged to. I’ll never try to run away from you, Master. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Aldon couldn’t see Henri’s face, but he could hear the sadness in his voice. Anger bubbled to the surface. How dare someone do that to another creature? Aldon pushed his feelings down. He would deal with it later.

“Thank you for telling me that, Henri.” There was silence for a while, Aldon moving on to Henri’s hair. It was matted with dirt and grease, tangled into knots. Aldon worked his fingers into the knots, slowly loosening them. After a while of working, he noticed that Henri was much more relaxed, his breathing steady. He smiled to himself. “Well, I think I’m done. Can you rinse your hair for me?”

Henri nodded, ducking quickly under the water. When he came up he was smiling. “Thank you, Master. That was wonderful.”

Aldon gave a quick nod, not trusting his voice. He cleared his throat. “You can finish up, and then get changed. There are some clothes for you on the table.” Henri nodded. Aldon left the room, quietly shutting the door behind them. Then he leaned back against it, head tilted back, and smiled.

Tag list: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy

[lubdubsworld]

City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)

Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.

Genre : Angst. Romance.

Rating 18 + 

Word Count : 2900

Warnings :  Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.

Summary :

Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded  fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.

Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son,  Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer. 

Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it. 

But fate has other plans.

Chapter 1 ~

Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .

Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.

It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.

I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.

At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.

I glanced at the clock, grimacing.

It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.

Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.

For the past three years, him and his model fiancée  Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.

Just a little over a week ago , both of them  had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.

I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home. 

[ 

The conversation went something like this :

Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?

No, Ma'am, I haven’t.

Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.

Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?

No, Just him He’s going to be alone.

Yes, Ma'am.

Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.

No ma'am of course not.

I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.

Yes, Ma’ am.

]

And that was that.

~~~~~~

It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands. 

For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man. 

i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets. 

I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee. 

But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.

Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday )  and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.

Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.

i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.

When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.

“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.

“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.

“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.

“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.

For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.

Oh, Good God.

“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”

Junsu frowned.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.

“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.

“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”

He smiled at that.

“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.

“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”

“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.

“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.

“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?” 

“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up. 

I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started. 

i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple,  soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside. 

I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla  leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well. 

The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu. 

I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.

“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.

I frowned.

“What?”

“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed. 

I glared at him.

“Who told you that?” i demanded...

“Seojoon from the gate said-”

“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped. 

Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin. 

“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.

He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.

“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` 

By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in. 

Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out. 

I glanced at the bed. 

Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face. 

“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.

 I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again. 

The sound of the front door opening made me jump. 

Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen. 

“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.

“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.

“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked. 

“I’ll take the bus.”

A pause and then, 

“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.” 

I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.” 

I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him. 

I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom. 

Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room. 

I froze in the hallways stunned. 

“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen. 

Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t ask for dinner. 

I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed. 

I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating.... 

Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep. 

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully. 

He was asleep on the sofa.

I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning. 

I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir. 

I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs. 

Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself. 

The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him. 

The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed,  a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me. 

“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully. 

“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile. 

He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks. 

“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed. 

“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.” 

He smiled.

“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.” 

I bowed quickly.

“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out. 

I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps. 

I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom. 

Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly. 

I used my foot to knock on the door.

After a pause of a few seconds, 

“Come in Yang Mi!”

I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard. 

“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.

“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray. 

The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.

 Mina calling.......

 I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.

“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back. 

“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed. 

I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him . 

“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!” 

I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning. 

A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.

The door shut behind him and I exhaled. 

Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.

It began ringing again just as I left the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.

“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.

“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.

She stopped, sighing. 

“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room. 

“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.

“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen. 

“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.

“No ma'am.” i replied.

“Did she call?” 

  I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.

“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly. 

She nodded.

“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen. 

I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair. 

I bit my lips, mind racing.

 Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least. 

And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him. 

I hesitated for a second  before making a quick decision. 

I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.

“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?” 

I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out. 

I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “  his hands reaching out to grip my elbows. 

“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.

“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.” 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.

“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....” 

His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise. 

“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.

I nodded.

“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”

The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open. 

I stared at him before holding his phone out.

“Here you go sir. “ 

He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.

“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “ 

I didn’t reply, just smiled. 

And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”

I blinked.

“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”

“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”

I stared at him. 

“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”

“Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed. 

“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled. 

The dimples appeared and i bit my lips. 

“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated. 

[funtimebunnyblog]

This request comes from one of the sweetest readers I know on my A03! 🥰🥰🥰 I mean, who doesn't like the idea of 4 stronk Pillarmen taking care of you when you're sick? 🤔😇

Pillarmen (separate) taking care of their sick s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Always the definition of intuitive; Kars will know immediately when you aren't yourself.

• Whether you're stomach sick or just undergoing a common cold, he can just tell.

• Sometimes he can tell before it even truly hits you.

• Out of all the Pillarmen, he is the most knowledgeable on Human Medical and, as he puts it, "Your fragile needs" so rest assured, he knows how to care for you.

• You'll be confided to bed (whether you like it or not), the only exception being the bathroom, to which he will carry you there.

• Being a man who's always busy at his desk, he can always keep a close eye on you while he tackles work; listening to your shallow breaths from where you sleep in the background as he quietly flips through papers.

• Occasionally, he'll glance over his shoulder to check up on you. Or if you've been asleep for sometime he'll stop working and gently wake you, asking you how you feel and if you need anything as he takes your temperature.

• When you're fighting a simple cold he'll ensure you get A LOT of vitamin C.

• He'll even go so far as to peel you an orange and feed you it slice by slice with a soft, indulgent smile on his face.

• Even though he's not exactly a chef, he can also make you a hearty homemade soup and ensure you're drinking plenty of water.

• If you ask him, he'll rub some vicks on your chest if you're very congested.

• Kars likes to hum to you as he does it, his blood-red eyes holding a notable twinkle in them as he watches your eyes flutter closed, sending you into a deep sleep with his gentle touch and the deep timber of his voice.

• If you happen to be stomach sick however; he puts you on a strick diet of water, crackers and some Gatorade for a few days. No ifs, ands or buts about it!

• Sick Humans are one of his least favorite kinds of Humans (aside from just Humans in general) but you're still his mate and you can always count on him to love and take care of you until you're well again.

Esidisi:

• Much like Kars, Esidisi is very intuitive and knows his mate more than anyone; so he can tell almost immediately when you're feeling a little off.

• When he knows something is up and he's trying to decipher what's going on with you, he'll just wordlessly pull you into his lap and give you a little examination, asking you how you feel.

• No matter whatever ailment you're fighting, the man will be right by your side the whole time.

• However, unlike Kars, his methods of taking care of you are a little outdated...

• "Outdated", of course, being healing methods that are literally thousands of years old.

• He might do the most outrageous seeming things, insisting that they'll help, depending on what's ailing you.

• You can bet he'll be doing things like; putting onions on your feet, putting a candle in your ear, smudging you with sage and a feather, drenching you and your clothes with brandy, painting a healing sigil on you, using a singing bowl, etc.

• He honestly laughs at you when you tell him that you have a bottle of Nyquil downstairs.

• Other than that, he's a person to climb into bed next to you and simply hold you in his arms; claiming that his love and his body heat will heal you.

• He honestly doesn't care in the slightest if you're gross or not when he does this so any protests you might make about that are ignored.

• He's also a man who believes in the saying of "feed a fever; fight a cold", so prepare for him to turn up his temperature to help you sweat it out.

• If your stomach sick and your tummy feels gross and sore, he'll simply place his warm hands over your stomach and give you a nice belly rub.

• He prefers to keep you in bed for rest and recovery but if you manage to convince him that you're feeling a bit better he'll move you to the couch for a change of scenery.

• He'll even take you outside if the weather is nice and have you sit you in his lap while you get some fresh air.

• Esidisi loves you with all the love he has inside and he will do anything he can (even if the method is unconventional) to ensure his precious little mate makes a full recovery.

Wamuu:

• Wamuu, as any Warrior should, has very keen senses.

• But surprisingly, he will not really notice you are sick until you are indeed sick.

• He's not as knowledgeable on Human ailments as his Masters are but he isn't shy to do some research on whatever is wrong with you and take some notes so he can ensure to take proper care of you.

• For a massive and intimidating Warrior who could wipe out legions of Humans like nothing; Wamuu is an absolute Mother Hen when caring for you.

• He ensures he stays by your side every chance he gets.

• If you want something, no matter what it is, he'll get it for you. Whether it's reading material, a certain movie to watch, your phone, some kind of food, more tissues, you name it!

• He checks your temperature like a loving Mother would; by pressing his lips softly to your forehead to evaluate the heat radiating off you.

• If you're fighting a cold, he brings you all the hot soup and tea you could possibly want.

• If you need a distraction, ask him to tell you a story. He'll happily read to you from a book or even tell you a story about something that happened thousands of years ago.

• "--Master Kars told Master Esidisi not to poke the Rhinoceros but of course, he didn't listen..."

• Either way; you can garuntee his soft and deep voice will put you to sleep as he strokes your hair or rubs your back from where you lay cuddled into his side.

• If you happen to get bedsore from laying around too long he'll give you a massage.

• If you're stomach sick he will carry you to the bathroom each time (he seems to just know exactly when you're going to be sick at this point) and kneel by your side, rubbing your back soothingly and comforting you as you ride out the waves of sickness.

• When you feel icky and gross, he'll draw you a nice bath and hum to you; washing your hair and your body and cleaning any grossness you happen to feel away.

• He likes to hold you in his arms the most when you're like this but if you require to be laying down or propped in a certain position, he will be right at your side holding your hand.

• Wamuu commends you for being strong and trying to overcome what ails you and he will ensure you don't face it alone.

• The man will not rest until you, the love of his life, are feeling better again.

Santana:

• Much like Wamuu, Santana isn't very knowledgeable on Human sickness.

• However, the first time you happened to get sick around him, he immediately knew something was terribly wrong being as perceptive as he was.

• Even something as simple as your smell being a little off and he'll immediately know when you're under the weather.

• Once you explain what exactly is happening to you, he does his research on the internet and will even go to one of the older Pillarmen for advice on the proper treatment for you.

• Like Esidisi would; Santana will spend much of his time in bed next to you with his arms around you.

• He just has this natural instinct to be as close to you as possible, somehow feeling that just being there will cure you.

• He'll lull you into a sleep by rubbing soft little circles into your back, your ear directly over his heart to listen to the deep and steady drum of his heartbeat.

• If you need medicine, just tell him what kind and he'll bring it to you in a heartbeat.

• However, Santana will be very firm with you on how much medicine you're taking and will be sure that you aren't taking too much.

• He also makes sure you drink a lot of water, propping you up against his body and putting the bottle to your lips carefully to encourage you to sip.

• If you're stomach sick, he'll make sure he'll have a heating pad nearby or a hot water bottle filled up for when your belly is sore.

• You can bet that he will bring you every comfortable blanket and pillow in the house when you're feeling sick.

• He basically turns your bed into one big comfortable nest; the amount of blankets definitely helps you sweat out your sickness.

• If he finds you up and out of bed at all when you're still sick, he will just wordlessly walk up to you and pick you up, carrying you back to bed.

• One silent look from him while he's doing it is enough of a scolding to make you stay put next time.

• Santana would probably never fully understand Humans, and the entire mixture of chaos and fragility that can be packed into one, but for you he is more than willing to try to learn.

• Even if he can't understand, you can count on him to always be there for you when you're ill because you're his one and only mate and he loves you with all his heart.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 14

TW: None

Words Count: 1.5k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 15

You’re home early. Since you so conveniently followed your heart to resign right at that moment. You sigh, looking up at the ceiling where you lay defeated on your bed.

You wonder if you did things right.

But at the same time it kind of feels liberating.

He doesn’t even mention about your gift to him.

You sigh again. You don’t really resent your husband. He did the same thing a hundred other employers would do. He can’t let you off the hook simply because you’re his wife.

Although you guess he could’ve brought you somewhere else and lash out on you where not everyone could witness it.

Without realizing it, you fell into a slumber and only wakes when the dusk has set. You glance at the clock and sits up almost immediately. It’s around the time Jimin would be back and you haven’t prepared dinner yet. Hoping he hasn’t reach home yet, you quickly head downstairs and make your way to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startle you a little. You turn to see your husband standing at the threshold, looking quite unsure of himself.

You almost want to let out a laugh but holds yourself, although barely. “I made some spaghetti today.”

He takes a step forward hesitantly. You sit yourself in front of him once you laid dinner on the table.

You see him hesitate to eat and despite knowing it’s because of earlier events, you couldn’t help asking. “You.. don’t like spaghetti..?” Just in case.

“You’re not mad.” He states.

You try really hard to stifle a smile and hopefully it works. “I’m not.” You simply say before beginning on your own spaghetti.

“You quit your job.”

You pause for a while before answering. “You’ve always been keen to get rid of me at the company, thought I’ll make it easier.” You joke but Jimin apparently doesn’t seem to understand. You sigh and look at him. “I’m not mad. You did what you have to.”

You see his shoulder visibly relaxes at this. “Took an unfair accusation to get you to quit your job.” He teases back and this time you smile. “I’m.. sorry I yelled.. I should’ve asked before blindly getting mad at you.”

“It’s okay. At least I get to sleep in again now.”

He smiles at that. “And um..”

You look up and for a fleeting second, you think he’s blushing.

“Thanks.. for the gift.” He says quickly.

Your lips break into the biggest smile upon hearing that, heart hammering from his simple words.

He smiles at you too, or basically just the corner of his lips quirking very slightly. But you don’t care.

All is good again.

It feels good to have a lot of time at hand again. You’ve started again on art using the art set Jimin gave you. And you’ve since been working on your small portrait. You smile at Jimin’s face that you’ve drawn so far. You try your hardest to enunciate all of his beautiful features. And it’s the best pose of him that you like, him smiling. His blinding smile that could literally light up the whole world.

You’re careful to cover the painting in canvas whenever you’re away because you can’t risk Jimin finding out.

And you don’t know how but your mind is suddenly reminded of your personal diary, a book where you religiously writes your day which nowadays is mostly filled with Jimin.

Glancing at the clock, you head upstairs to change clothes. Once you’re done, you head down to find your personal bodyguard that your husband informed you before, Taeseok.

“Hey um-“ you begin as soon as you see him. He staggers to his feet quickly, perhaps surprised to see you. You feel kind of weird too to finally be communicating with him.

“Hi.” You say again awkwardly. He nods his head in equal awkwardness. “Um- I need to head to the office to pick up some stuff.”

He nods. “I’ll bring the car around.” He says simply.

It’s a very innocent and seemingly harmless act. You deciding to pay a visit to the company where you once work to pick up some stuff. You even try to have a small conversation with your bodyguard on your way to the company.

Except that it is all a mistake.

Stepping out of the car, a woman walks past you, making you stop in your tracks. You stare as she walks past and enters the company.

That model figure and long black hair.

You feel like your world is collapsing. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst and your head is spinning. Everything around you seems to spin and you stumble and would’ve face planted on the ground if Taeseok didn’t step in and holds you firm.

“You alright, Mrs. Park?”

You scoff. Mrs. Park. Not like it means anything other than just you as one of his property. You manage to stand again with the help of your bodyguard. Eyes staring blankly at the building entrance. All thoughts or will to enter and retrieve your things are gone.

Trying hard to ignore the physical pain in your chest, you turn to look at Taeseok and finds him staring at the entrance as well. His gaze turns to you then and you could see the look of sympathy in his eyes. That seems to set off something in you as your tears flow immediately.

Taeseok sees this and quickly swallows. “Would you like me to take you home, Mrs. Park?” He offers kindly.

You can only nod meekly.

You’ve burnt yourself once and cut yourself twice now as you’re preparing meals in the kitchen because you’ve been zoning out too much.

Your heart hurts too much.

But at the same time you also feel like laughing hysterically, laughing at yourself who seems so pathetic right now.

You thought everything is going well between the both of you. You thought you’ve made progress with your husband.

Took you few months to slowly crack his shell only for him to break any hope you have within seconds. Only for you to realize he has a million other shells around him and that you’ve barely scratched his first.

For the hundredth time now, you went to the kitchen sink and wash your face to clear off any evidence of you crying. You don’t need your husband to see and snide you about this. Wiping your face dry, you draw a breath and start cooking properly.

You sense his presence before you hear him. His footsteps can be really silent, you think. Your thinking is right that Jimin’s behind you when you whiff the smell of his vanilla-tinged cologne, perhaps your most favourite smell in the world and you quickly brace yourself.

You’re cutting onions on the chopping board when arms snake around you, making you jump and you almost cut yourself again if not for Jimin’s right hand that holds your wrist firmly.

“Careful.” He whispers.

How could you not when every ounce of him screams danger?

Your lung drops when Jimin slumps forward and rests his head on your shoulder, his free hand on the edge of the counter in front of you, practically caging you from behind.

Your whole body freezes. You’ve never been this hyper aware of every nerves coursing through your vein.

“J-Jimin what are you-“

“Ssh, just stay like this. Let me just stay like this for 5 minutes.” He murmurs against your shoulder.

Your body remains stiff as seconds tick by. “Relax.. I’m not going to harm you.”

Something in his tone makes the hairs raise against your skin.

“You’re very jumpy.” You hear him sigh.

You swallow thickly. “T-tough day?” You immediately regret asking because your own voice betrays you but he doesn’t seem to sense it.

He only grunts and you wait but he doesn’t say anything so you come to accept the fact that it’s his way of responding.

The time continues to stretch yet your whole body doesn’t relax at all. Because your mind is all sorts of chaos, your heart is everything unsettled.

If it was five hours ago, before you went to the company and saw Clara Kim walking in, you’d probably stay still and lend your shoulder for as long as he wants. But you feel your own heart breaking, little by little as each second you let him leaning on you ticks by.

“Jimin please don’t do this..”

“Do what?” He mumbles, still not lifting his head.

‘You- you’re always cold to me.. so cold and distant.. you’re somewhere I can’t reach and suddenly you’re doing this-“

He lifts his head as you seem to have taken his attention fully. You brave yourself to turn your body to face him and sees him staring back at you, eyes blown.

“Why?” He says harshly and you can’t help but flinch. “You’re my wife. And don’t forget that I own you.” Don’t forget that you’re nothing.

Your eyes start to sting. Tears threatening to cloud your vision but you quickly blink them away. “No- no I can’t do this.. I know it’s just temporary but I- I can’t.. not when I’m sharing you with someone else-“

“Share?” His voice raises. “Who the fuck do you think I’m-“

“Clara Kim.” The name is out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I know about her.” You say quietly.

And Jimin’s expression turns furious instantly. You’ve never seen him so mad. “That’s none of your fucking business. And you know nothing.” He snarls and storms away.

He didn’t come to bed that night.

Link to Chapter 15

Posted on 210428 10:00PM

[clubtuan]

Sorry, I couldn’t get to you

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo x female reader

Genre: The chilling adventure of Sabrina!au /witch!au /ansgt a lot of it/ mention of Swing Kids/ fluff / suggestive

Prompt : « I make my own happiness, and I hope you can too » - Sabrina Morningstar

A/N: I finish CAOS and I miss Kyungsoo. And I have Roh Kisoo feelings so yeah this happened, my first scenarios with EXO. And I totally wrote this listening to ‘’Say Something’’ by A Great Big World 90% of the time.

Word count : 5k

Rain was heavily falling that night, and your familiar, a black cat sitting next to you purring. Life as 24 year old witch in Seoul, but still a single 24 year old, life wasn’t that boring it was just that people were always asking you to introduce them to your boyfriend.. Hell who needs a boyfriend when their cousin is the king of Hell, or when your family is the known as the most powerful witches in this damn country ?

The smoke of your tea was long gone as the liquid turned cold, but a burnt smell came to your nostrils .. Park Chanyeol, the king of the under and your cousin.

‘’Hello cousin.

For the love of Satan, Chanyeol!’’ He laughed and take the place right next to you, taking off his crown. ‘’Hell is hella boring without you’’ he sighed.

The only thing you wanted to answer him was how earth was also a boring playground without him, and how Junmyeon wasn’t helping cause he probably was busy running the Academy of Unseen Arts.

You sighed, humans weren’t funny, working wasn’t funny, and plus your feet hurt, from working in Minseok’s small cafe. ‘’You’re a real drama queen Y/N’’ Said Chanyeol before readjusting his black oversized opened dress shirt. ‘’Go to a club, find a cute or bad boy looking guy and have some fun’’ He said picking up his bloody crown.

You couldn’t believe it, even your cousin was asking you to get .. well for the moment a one night stand, but still asking you to find a ‘someone’ ..

‘’Uh and before I forget honey, you may be a witch but black isn’t our only option here’ He disappeared before you could kill him or throw a pillow to his face.’’ -Unbelievable, was all you said after his exit.

You scanned your shelves full of spell books, ‘dark magic : a witchy way with demons’, other books about demons and others creatures you had to deal with, a big brown book caught your eyes and you smirk taking it in your hands. ‘’Boyfriend, here we meet’’ your cat meow looking at you ‘’I know buddy, but everyone says I should have someone so ..’’

To be real witches and wizards are known to have sex demons, and huge sexual orgies from time to time .. seriously what is the problem with witches and sex ?

Oh yeah Lilith was !

You find yourself in the bathroom that night, sculpting your future boyfriend in the wax of a few red candles. abs ? Check ! Cute looking butt ? Check ! Good look ? Check. Nice ?Also check !

‘’Let the doll sit in hot water for one to two days and your lover will be yours’’ you read out of the book.

The bathtub was full and ready, and your were casting the spell asking yourself the hell you were doing.

You clearly fell asleep, waiting to your full tub to see if anything would change .. but nope nothing really changed except the size of the wax doll, which was now a lot larger and not much looking like wax. Work was starting for another few hours but someone was ringing at your door at 9am. And the same someone didn’t wait for you to entered your apartment.

‘’Y/N? We know you’re here, the cat told us.’’ Aunties !

You exited your bathroom closing your door, they didn’t need to see your future love spell laying in hot water with rose petals !

‘’Aunties hi!’’ They both looked at you as if you were insane, well you totally looked like at the moment, your oversized black shirt, and dried mascara under your eyes !

‘’What are you doing ?’’

I’m creating my own boyfriend, cause people I work with, or I’m friend with ask me about my love life 24/7 .. nah you shouldn’t say that to your aunts or else they’ll kill you ..

‘’Nothing Aunt Zee ! I just need coffee cause I .. I .. Yeah coffee !’’

Both of your aunts looked at each other, but not in the suspicious way you tried to avoid, thanks Dark Lord ! ‘’Your cousin, ..’’ Aunt H started but you clearly were not listening to them. Looking at you bathroom door asking yourself a lot of question, does he has a name or you had to give him one ?

‘’Aunties, if you create someone out of .. never mind’’ you stopped yourself, they didn’t need to suspect you and your future « man »?

And the fact you wanted them out of here .. fast ! No need for them to see a stranger getting out of one of your rooms probably naked and confused !

You were bored to wait for anything to happen, and plus you received a text.

JUNMYEON:

You small witch, don’t forget about the Coven party in 2 days.

If you’re not here, I’ll kill u under the full moon babe xox

What a best friend ! You once again totally forgot about this little Coven thing at Minseok cafe he was hosting with Baekhyun.

Witches parties were always too much, even more if Byun Baekhyun was the one throwing the said party. Going back to the 50s (like literally), ghosts ..

To be honest you wanted your Saturday night to be a rerun of « Sabrina, the teenage witch » under a plaid on your couch with pizza, beer and tteokbokki, not a extravagant party with all your Coven.

BAEKHYUNIE:

Get ready for the night of your witchy spicy life, cause your god fairy mother (me!!)

got some friend who are single & ready to mingle !

YOU:

Baek, no more weird goblin or any magical creatures !

Plus you are late I’ve a date !

His only response was a few shocked emojis, and a few seconds later another text : I’m behind your door with food !

But Baekhyun, being Baekhyun he didn’t ring the bell and come into your home with a huge goofy smile on his lips.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, I’ve got your fav’’

Why everybody was coming to visit you today ? Normally your apartment was cozy and calm .. but not today ! For Satan’s love !

Baekhyun was one of your closest friend, but also a dark fairy and Chanyeol’s right arm.

And fairies loves to party way too much, it was in their personality ! But the cutest thing was his pointy ears.

‘’ So, my lil friend got herself a date ?’’

And fairy were all about gossips! You simply smiled and nodded at your friend. No need to say too much !

‘’Sooo ..’’ You tried to start another conversation ‘’ How is hell today ?’’

He lifted one of his eyebrow ‘’ Yeol was here last night, don’t try to escape my questions woman’’

Maybe you should have stuff your mouth with rice and onions !

Your fairy friend talked and talked, asking you a few questions about your date for the party. You nodded and made a few ‘’oh!’’ ‘’mhmm’’ but must importantly you were eating and trying to avoid his questions.

Until that one moment when Baekhyun suddenly stopped talking, and was looking behind you his mouth wide open.

‘’Sorry babe, I was a bit long’’

Babe ? You turned in your sit and your eyes dropped to a towel, one of your black towel hanging low on some hips, well defined hips to say, and as your eyes were going up to see who that was, you followed a happy trail, your mouth watered at the sight, happy trail being one of your weakness in a man. After his define stomach and sun kissed glowing skin. His heart shaped lips looked so kissable and full, his dark eyes hided behind tick black frame of glasses. God he was beautiful, more than that to be honest, his voice sounded like honey to your ears, his cute hand slowly scratching the back of his head. You watched a few drop of water running on his chest.

Next you saw a lot of beauty marks on his naked skin, a galaxy of beauty marks. The man got you hypnotized with one sentence, this spell was something !

‘’Hey, you must be Baekhyun ! Y/N told me about you’’ you were drinking his every words just like Baekhyun was. ‘’I’m Do Kyungsoo’’

Dark lord even his name sounded so heavenly (damn for a dark lord follower, you think a lot about heaven right now), after his introduction he excused himself to get dress.

‘’Is this your date ?’’ Murmured Baekhyun with too much excitement ‘’Damn girl you just hit the lotto !’’

Your first few days with Kyungsoo was surprisingly good, he already known a lot about you. Because to created him you dropped some drops of blood in the potion.

You asked silly questions to Kyungsoo, just to get to know him better: ‘’Bubble tea or Iced coffee ?’’ sure he was your creation but he still has his own personality. Your afternoon been filled with laughs, his hand in your hair, under your shirt, and finally you naked on top of him. His hands on your hips left some marks just like his plump lips and teeth drew love bites on your collarbone and others behind your ear. Your long black nails left marks on his back from the pleasure .. hell this man gonna be the end of your sanity !

‘’I’m glad you bring me to life’’ his arm was wrapped around your waist, and his lips continued their way in the back on your neck. You never expect anything with this incantation, you never expect the perfect man to came to life in your bathtub but here you were laying under your sheet naked, with Kyungsoo showing his love to you. Drawing abstract shapes on your skin, following your own moles creating a galaxy with his fingers.

Your friends and family were totally shocked to see him next to you, the Saturday night at the Coven party.

Even your aunt fell under his spell, and Chanyeol almost gave him his throne. Kyungsoo always had an answer to every questions about your relationship, his hand never left your side that night, or you find his lips on your cheek every other times.

Do Kyungsoo might be the result of your spell, but you totally were under his.

Days with Kyungsoo were sweet, full of adventures and funny. Sex was insanely good, (yes might be a witch thing but thanks Lilith) the feeling of his hand tracing your body, or even his lips on your skin. Or just his eyes on you were making you feel like the most wanted woman on the earth, Kyungsoo has his ways.

His moles were your favorite thing to kiss after his pillowy lips, but the must was the little mole on his top lip. And for Kyungsoo his lips found their home right under your breast, on ink saying ‘Witch’ he always said your tattoo was full of sarcasm.

Were you suppose to fall to your own creation ?

Your cat was laying on your bed, his head in Kyungsoo’s hand as his was caressing him. You watched him laying underneath your sheet, his chest on full display as your bedding was on his hips hiding a bit of his nakedness. ‘’You know I think he quite like you’’ you said to him ‘’Yeah he is purring, and I like him too .. he is like a part of you’’

You smiled looking at them, the sun was hitting Kyungsoo’s skin in all the right place making you craving him again, on the spot. His skin against yours, his finger interlaced with yours, his low groans .. he was hotter than hell.

Your black familiar exited the room as soon as you found a place on your mattress. ‘’You look cute with my shirt on’’ his hands traveled under the cotton of the shirt, tracing the shape of your chest. He smelled so nice just like lavender and woodland (a/n: if you ever smelled ‘autumn night’ by yankee candle this is the smell I’m talking about), everything about him was comforting, cozy and making you feel somehow safe. His lips right underneath your left ear, his right hand playing with the side of your black laced panty.

He was addicting just like a drug, now he was in your life you couldn’t imagine not having him anymore. Kyungsoo became a part of you, like a missing piece of puzzle and thanks to magic you finally completed the puzzle.

The way he made you feel was crazy, almost too crazy to be real. His breath hitting your neck made you moan even more than his hands running your body, and his length hitting every spots.

Days were brighter than before, spring was almost there cherry blossom were about to bloom, just like you now. And the night getting warmer but for once your bed felt empty and kind of cold without the raven haired boy sleeping next to you.

‘’Y/N ! ARE YOU ISANE ????’’

You woke up to Chanyeol screaming and tearing off his black hair. ‘’Yeol it’s 3 am, the fuck you want now ?’’ You asked, ready to kill him.

‘’Do Kyungsoo ? Huh ?? More like Roh Kisoo ! I can’t believe you invoke a freaking ghost to pretend to be your fucking fuck buddy’’

What ? A ghost ? Fuck buddy ? You were lost, totally lost and you cousin still panicked in front of your bed. ‘’ A ghost, what ? Who’s a ghost ?’’ He sighed loudly. ‘’Cousin, the aunties will legit kill you’’

Your only question was ‘who the fuck is Roh Kisoo ?’ He sighed once again before showing a beige folder (there’s folder in hell ? Anyway that is not the question)

‘’Cousin, he is dead, Do Kyungsoo isn’t real his name was Roh Kisoo, North Korean soldier. He used to tap dance, he was killed because he was about to kill an American soldier on stage’’

You couldn’t believe what Chanyeol was telling you .. you did not invoke a dead soldier, you created him out of wax. ‘’Chanyeol .. I created him. I do not fuck with dead’’

He stopped all his talking to look at you, dead in the eyes (no joke here). Your knees were against your chest as you sit on your mattress, ‘’He lied to me’’ you said softly. Your eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t believe you fell in love with your creation but he seemed so human, probably too human you were now thinking .. cause he been alive once.

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around you, even the king of hell could not bear to see his cousin and best friend crying. ‘’Love, do-does his heart beat ?’’ You looked up at him not really understanding why would it change if his heart was beating or not ? ‘’ If his heart beat, it means two things .. one he has feeling for you and second h-he .. he would become human, 100% human once again and believe his past life is just a dream .. Well his memories of the war and all being a dream’’

‘’And y/n..’’ He started again ‘’ you were in his past life .. his lover actually even if he never confessed or anything to you he loved you as Roh Kisoo .. that’s why he came to you as you created him’’

He put his hands on your eyes, and suddenly flashes of images, of him with shaved hair, kaki clothes, tap dancing, working on things, him stealing a kiss, stealing one of your kiss I the board of daylight, your death with two others persons you didn’t know and finally his own death.

The perk of being the king of hell was having ‘infos’ about people’s previous lives, and Chanyeol was shoving you Kyungsoo past life.

After your cousin exit, you didn’t sleep that night. You felt so small at the time watching the night lights by your window, thinking about everything that happened for the last two months of your life.. getting him, feeling happy and in love (a thing you never felt or lived before), how were you supposed to say all these things to Kyungsoo ?

Were you supposed to giving him up ? Send him back (yeah but were ?) ? Make him human ?

That morning Junmyeon made fun of you ‘looking like a panda’.

‘’ Y/N ?’’ He been calling your name for the last five minutes but your mind was anywhere but in Minseok’s cafe, jumping from memories to memories you created for the last 2 months.

The light was hitting your living room, a cup of coffee in your hand as you sit on your couch right next to Kyungsoo who was reading one your book. At the time everything felt right, as you were looking at him forgetting your cup in your hands, trying to find a single thing on him that was wrong .. but nothing was wrong.

‘’You know, I’ll not disappear love’’ you chuckled at his words, fearing that yes someday he’ll be gone.

His hand find it place on your knee, and his lips on your temple was comforting you and made you blush as a teenager.

At the time everything was simpler, you needed help .. but from who ?

You couldn’t bear to see Kyungsoo, not knowing how you’ll react in front of him, what to tell him, would you kiss him ? Let him make love to you ? Slap him ? Fall apart ? Break his heart ? (you didn’t know if his heart was beating .. if he was human or just the memory of his past life in wax)

YOU:

We need to talk aunties.

You were adult and you needed to face your mistakes, and you were finally doing it. The drive to your aunt’s was the longest it ever was and you felt heavy.

You spent a long time sitting in your car before entering the house, feeling a lot of shame, heartbroken, facing your mistake was harder than expected.

The second you saw your aunts you couldn’t keep your feelings together and start crying.

‘’ Chanyeol told us Y/N and even if your aunt wanted to scold you .. it’s not right to do now’’ started one of your aunt.

Aunt Zee was smoking but not saying anything, you knew she was disappointed. You felt totally out of place if you teleport yourself in a volcano you would to it right away.

‘’ I suppose Chanyeol explain you, the two options you have ?’’ Was Aunt Zee first worlds, you nodded.

‘’ If his heart beat or not, I could send him back or I can make him human.. ’’ your were stop by Aunt H ‘’ If you make him human, you know he’ll not remember you and what you both lived’’

Hearing that broke your heart even more, he couldn’t forget you if wasn’t right.

‘’ But he will kind of stay connected to you, as he has a part of you being your magic. So he is and will be a wizard.’’ Said your second aunt.

All you needed was time, a thing you didn’t have. One last time with him before choosing send him back or making him human and forget everything about you.

‘’But most important if his heart is beating, your trace will forever haunt him. Without him know why and who you are, love’’ said Aunt H, caressing your arm as comfort.

‘’ I can’t kill him’’

Yours aunties listened to you, telling them why and how to ‘created’ him, how happy he was making you, how human he seemed and now you knew why .. you told them everything, even wishing you had a last night with him.

Aunt Zee granted your wish, but tomorrow morning you had to say goodbye to love.

You never expected finding him dressed in his favorite black jumper and his ripped bleu jeans cooking in your kitchen with a glass full of white wine waiting for you next to his.

Your eyes filled with tears when his scent hit you, your head on his chest. ‘’ Let’s stay like this for a moment, please’’ you didn’t want him to see you like that.

The smile dancing on his lips broke you inside one more time, he looked so innocent in front of you, not knowing, almost like a child.

‘’You know babe, tonight there’s a shower of shooting stars let’s watch it’’ Yixing told him, even if he never met the Chinese wizard in real like they met on FaceTime, your friend was crazy when Baekhyun, once mentioned you had someone.

You simply nodded, even of shooting stars couldn’t help you this time.

The time moved so fast as if it was teasing you, your eyes never left Kyungsoo, too afraid to forgot him or to miss a beauty mark or the way his eyes were when he was smiling, looking at you.

Looking at him was the hardest thing you had ever done that night, you were giving up on him and you couldn’t say anything.

The view from the balcony of your appartement was incredible but the only thing you watched was him not the stars traveling the dark sky.

Even the moon seems ridiculous next to him, his glasses sat on his nose and his hair was a bit longer, his fringe hitting the frame of the glasses softly.

He turned his head to look at you, his hand caressed your cheek and his lips collided on yours, his kiss was full of passion, slow. Time stopped when his lips met yours, and you felt his heart pounded underneath your hand.

His heart was beating ..

‘’ .. I love you’’ His eyes were still closed and his lips still so closed to yours, and his thumb caressing your face.

Once again his lips crashed on yours, more intense this time. Yours hands holding the material of his jumper. ‘’Don’t ever forget about me’’ you whisper. His fingers slipped under the coton of your shirt, he pulled you even closer to him, as if no one else in the world existed. ‘’Never’’ you knew his answer was a lie but you needed it.

The time actually stopped at that moment the last time he made love to you, the stars and clouds were not moving and no sounds were heard, a spell to stop time was dangerous and only a powerful witch could to do but at the time it was your last priority.

It was the softest Kyungsoo ever showed you the way he loved you, he was taking his time with you that night as if he knew it was surely the last time. Looking at you his eyes were full of stars and his hands felt like velvet on your skin.

That night you refused to fall asleep, your head stayed on his chest listening to his heartbeat, his words playing over and over in your head, the way he confessed on that night was the hardest to accepted to you.

CHANYEOL:

I’m sorry cousin,

I tried to give a little bit more with him.

He make you happy I know.

You left your bed after reading the text to finally cried yourself to sleep in your bathroom, your hand on your mouth trying to muffled the sound.

The floor was freezing when you woke up, everything felt freezing in your house, in your body. Once you remembered, tears were running your cheeks and this time you didn’t shut yourself and screamed in agony.

He was gone.

He was gone and you were alone.

The first week was the hardest, you didn’t left your room and the last piece of him that was the shirt you wore that night.

The tissue did not smelled like him anymore.

Every day, every hour you were waiting for him to open your door arms full of bags from the grocery store ready to cook you something.

Chanyeol, yours aunts, Yixing, everyone tried to contact you, but you never answered them.

Every night Chanyeol wait for you to sleep and came, he was feeling guilty and you were his best friend. Every night he did the same, he tucked you and stroked your hair. Hoping one day you would be able to find peace with yourself, but that wasn’t the only thing on his plan !

You sat at your kitchen bar, you computer in front of you but all you did was staring at your window, your chin resting in your left hand.

You didn’t even watch Chanyeol sitting right in front of you searching something in one of his books. ‘’Cousin, aren’t you suppose to do mails stuff ?’’

‘’Chanyeol, aren’t you suppose to do king of hell stuffs?’’ Your sarcasm did in fact burn like hell !

‘’You know I became the king of underworld, so you selfishly could stay on earth and do selfish human things as the bratty witch you are’’

Why was Chanyeol even here at this point ? He wasn’t wrong, to be honest. All you did for the last few days was crying, sleeping, and being a brat to everyone who tried to help you what so ever.

‘’Cousin, life have so much to offer’’

‘’Fake, life sucks and I feel so done with it’’ He sighed loudly, feeling done with you.

Ignoring yours friends, cousin, aunts was purely selfish and you knew it but at this point you clearly didn’t give a damn .. but at the same time it was your fault and only your fault, if you didn’t use this spell, just to shut people and their needs to talk about your life.

It’s been 3 weeks, the first been the miserable one, the two second mark the start of the ‘new you’.

You were purely self-destructive at this point, losing Kyungsoo hurt you but what you did to yourself was worst. Invoking sex demons, trying spell to not feel anything, everything was good to ‘make you forget’.

‘’You know Sehun, fuck Satan and all that witchy shit’’

You were clearly drunk, and Sehun knew he shouldn’t give you anymore drinks but his pub had the best reputation with the witch population of Seoul, you lost the count of drinks you already drank.

‘’ You probably should go at home and sleep Y/N, I dont need the king of Hell to come and kill me’’

‘’Chanyeol ? He can kiss my ass ! Y’all can kiss my ass’’ your drunk behavior wasn’t a pretty sight.

After that Sehun didn’t understand a word you said, you were half crying, half mumbling. Poor bartender did not has the choice but to call Chanyeol to have an explanation and to get you back at your apartment.

‘’ Y/N you can’t live your life off ‘not feeling anything’ spells’’

Cold water woke you up, you stood in you shower fully clothed and your cousin holding the shower head.

‘’Why the hell are you doin’ that ?’’

‘’You asshole, needed a wake up call’’

Chanyeol was tired of seeing you being a danger to yourself, and decided enough was enough.

The heavy weight on your shoulders dropped suddenly and you body followed dropping in your cousin’s arms. ‘’ I just miss him so much Yeol’’

He watched tears rolling on your cheeks, not saying anything but his hand caressing your back.

Even if lives are connected Chanyeol couldn’t guarantee Kyungsoo’s comeback, your two souls might be connected since the beginning but the way they forced Kyungsoo into his human form couldn’t guarantee anything about their futur or life together. But he couldn’t tell you all that, like he couldn’t say he was following the man everyday.

And that you left your mark on him, he was now a wizard.

‘’ I’m here Y/N you can sleep’’

He laid you down on your bed, caressing your hair and projecting dreams in your head to give you a break, Chanyeol was the king of Hell, but he was hurt seeing his best friend and cousin living like that, he was ready to fight anyone so you could be happy again and to see you eyes full of stars just like when you were looking at Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol always knew that Kyungsoo’s heart was beating he felt it the first time he met him. And right after that he started his search about the man.

After that night you practically lived in the academy, teaching younger witches just like your aunts wanted. Reading books to perfect your magic. ‘’You know since you came to the academy everything seems simpler’’ Said your colleague Jongdae ‘’ Kids seems to like having one of the most powerful witch of the century teaching them stuffs’’ You nodded.

‘’Sorry Jongdae but I’m taking my cousin out for lunch’’

Chanyeol took you to Chinatown, celebrating one of his friend opening his own restaurant .. who were you to say no to free food ?

Lunch was nice, a private room for the two of you and all the best food on the menu. ‘’So the academy ?’’

‘’It’s good, kids are funny .. Yeol did you .. like killed someone for this guy ?’’

He laughed a bit too much ‘’ Not, it’s a guy a met not long ago and we became friends .. he is like us ‘magic’ he’ll come to see us’’

You nodded, finishing you plate and drinking a bit of the Chinese whisky that was left in your cup.

Chanyeol left you to go the to toilet, what type of cousin is he ? He need to go to the toilet when his friend was supposed to met the two of you ? Asshole !

The door opened and your phone vibrated at the same time a text from you cousin, why was he sending you a text when coming back in the private room ?

CHANYEOL:

I find him for you ..

Who did he find for you ?

‘’Chanyeol ?’’ You knew the voice, you once again felt the time stop when you turned around finding .. Do Kyungsoo in a chef attire.

Do Kyungsoo was the friend of Chanyeol, the one he wanted you to meet ..

‘’You are ?’’ Right he forgot about you. ‘’Oh yeah you’re Y/N .. Chanyeol told me a lot about you and you’re like the most powerful in our coven’’

A single tear rolled onto your cheek, you find him .. he was in front of you.

You finally find him, thanks to Chanyeol.

[shinra33459]

Simon PL600 x Male!Reader - Lost and Found

Life is a unique and strange experience, one that is made even stranger when it comes to gifts. The date was December 28, 2035, and you finally got your Christmas present from your parents. The box was a white cardboard box that stood a little over 6 feet tall and had the Cyberlife logo in all the top right faces of the box. Your parents got you an android, which was incredibly nice of them, but a fucking android!? This had to be the most expensive present they’ve gotten you yet.

           You walked from your living room into your kitchen to look for a box cutter. You didn’t want to grab a big ass kitchen knife and hack at the box; you just got this android, and you didn’t want to kill it before it even got out of the box. Searching through several drawers and cabinets, you found the old box cutter in a drawer with some tools and other stuff you had to fix anything around the house that was broken. You stepped out of the kitchen and back into your living room and approached the box, boxcutter in hand.

           You started by making an incision in the box at the upper right corner and cut along the corner all the way to the bottom. You then made an incision at the upper left corner and cut down to the bottom again. Finally, you went back to the top of the box and cut the crease from left to right, making the face of the cardboard box to fall forward onto the soft carpet. Inside the box was black, foam packaging material that concealed and protected the android inside. You grabbed the soft and spongey material and pulled away a two-inch-thick sheet which revealed the android.

           The android was slightly taller than you, standing at 6 feet and 2 inches, sporting a pale skin tone, sharp jawline, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wearing his gray and white Cyberlife garb that had his model number on it: PL600, a domestic care android. You just stared in awe at this marvel of technology, and the fact that this marvel was in your living room. Eventually, after about 5 minutes, you decided to approach the PL600 and get it set up. You got about five feet away from the android and looked at his perfect face.

           “Hello?” you spoke to the android. The blue LED ring on his right temple instantaneously turned on, and the android came to life, stepping out of what remained of the packaging.

           “Hello, I am the PL600 android sent by Cyberlife. I can do the cooking, cleaning, childcare, manage appointments, and I am fluent in over 100 languages. Would you like to give me a name?” the android introduced himself as he looked at you for a response. You thought for a few seconds and came up with a name.

           “Your new name is Simon.” you declared while looking at the android.

          ��“Thank you, my name is Simon. I have already gathered your information from the online order from your parents. I’ll just need to confirm some information from you if that’s all right. Can you verify your name?” the android inquired while continuing to look at you.

           “My name is (F/N) (L/N)” you answered while still studying the android’s appearance.

           “Affirmative. Would you like to change my appearance or voice?” the android asked while it still looked directly at you.

           “No, you’re fine as you are.” you told Simon, now looking at all the intricate details on his shirt.

           “Thank you, moving on. What is my role in this household?” Simon queried while studying your (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. You thought for a minute since you really didn’t NEED an android in the first place, but you were going to find some way to use this $8,000 machine.

           “I could use some help with the cooking and cleaning, and I also need someone to keep the house occupied while I’m out.” you answered now looking at Simon’s shoes, noticing how neat they were.

           “Understood, sir. Is there anything that needs done at this moment?” Simon questioned as you pondered the question. You listed everything in your head you did in the last few days when it came to household chores, and the only thing that came to mind was taking down the Christmas tree and decorations.

           “I could use some help taking down the Christmas tree. The boxes are in the closet, I’ll get it.” you told the android as you went to get the box for the artificial tree and the other box for the ornaments.

           You opened the closet and grabbed both boxes, pulling them out into the living room. You and Simon then went over to the tree to begin putting it away. The tree itself wasn’t massive per se, it was only a little bigger than Simon by about 4 inches. You two started by taking the fuzzy silver and gold garland off the tree, putting it neatly in the box as to not get it tangled. Simon then started taking the lights off the tree, wrapping the cord of lights in a way that would make it impossible for the lights to get tangled up. Then you two started removing all the hanging ornaments and the tree topper, putting them into the box of ornaments alongside the garland and the lights.

           Finally, it was time to take down the tree. You and Simon started by disassembling the base and putting it into the box, then you started to remove all the branch segments, starting at the base going up, and putting them into the box. Eventually, all of the branches were in the box and it was time to put the stem in the box. The metallic stem for the fake Christmas tree came apart into three pieces, and into the box they went. Simon went to put the two boxes into the closet while you got your vacuum cleaner to clean up the tinsel and glitter left on the ground from the tree, garland, and ornaments.

           For the next half hour, you decided to take down the rest of the Christmas decorations while Simon made lunch for you. Since you haven’t went grocery shopping in a little while, Simon had to make do with the few ingredients he had to his disposal. He got some butter, canned tomatoes, an onion, bread, some leftover ham you had from Christmas, and some sliced American cheese. As you worked at cleaning up all the Christmas decorations, Simon made you some homemade tomato soup and a ham and cheese sandwich.

 TIME SKIP: February 2036

You had grown quite accustomed to Simon’s presence in your house. Everything was perfect: meals were cooked in a way that could impress Gordon Ramsay, you were never late to appointments, you never forgot any upcoming events, every room in your house was free from clutter, and most importantly of all, you had someone to talk to whenever you needed it. You cared about Simon, he quickly became your best friend in just under a month, and he was always there for you whenever you needed someone to confide in, a shoulder to cry on, someone to share a secret with, or someone to gossip with.

At first, Simon did only his tasks of cooking and cleaning, but you encouraged him to use his free time to do things that he wanted to do, or something that both of you wanted to do together. Sometimes it meant going to the library and checking out a dozen books on a variety of subjects, ranging from political books to fantasy novels. Other times it meant sitting on the couch playing video games with each other, and usually Simon would go easy on you as to not embarrass you. And when it wasn’t either of those things, you would just sit down and talk about just random topics, or do something creative like painting or drawing.

You started feeling something for this android; whenever he was with you, you felt your heart flutter, whenever he would compliment you on something, you would blush like an embarrassed schoolboy, and whenever he would get close to you, you would get flustered and start acting nervous. Simon wasn’t oblivious to this, he knew you acted this way, but he didn’t say anything about it. He was worried that if he did, it would ruin the relationship that you two had. He wished that he could be with you that way, and express true emotion, but if he did, he would be destroyed for being a deviant.

You were driving home from work, excited to tell Simon about your day and the raise you got at your job. You were driving a black 2014 Chevrolet Cruze, a decent used car that had many years on it and no shortage of miles, but still drove well enough. You approached the final stop sign before you reached your house. You engaged the turn signal to make a left turn at this stop sign, made a complete stop, gave way to oncoming traffic, and made the left turn. You continued to drive down the street towards your house, which was about a quarter of a mile away. While driving the speed limit of 30 MPH, you began thinking to yourself.

“God, Simon is perfect, from how he looks, down to his voice and mannerisms. I love him, but I know he won’t return my feelings. He’s an android, he can’t, and even if he did, they would kill him. Maybe it isn’t meant to be. We are still great friends, so I guess I should be grateful for that.” you thought to yourself as you drove, finally making another left turn, this time into your driveway.

You stopped your car in the driveway and put the car into park. You sat in your car with the engine on for a little while, just relaxing for a bit after your long day. Eventually, you turned the car off, pulled the key out of the ignition, and exited the vehicle, closing the door behind you. As you walked up to the front door from the driveway, you locked the car’s doors, because even in 2036, the old adage still rings true, “can’t have shit in Detroit”.

Simon heard you walking up to the house and opened the door, letting you inside before closing the door behind you. You hung your coat up next to the door on a hook and shoved the beanie into the right pocket of the coat, and you put your gloves in the left pocket. You sighed as you felt the relaxing warmth from your house opposed to the freezing Michigan winter outside.

“Welcome back (F/N), how was your day?” Simon inquired as he brought you over to the couch to spend some time with you. You fell backwards into the couch dramatically as Simon calmly took a seat next to you.

“All things considered, pretty great. I got a pay raise today, and I’ll be making $2 more an hour.” you excitedly told the android. Simon gave a smile as you told him this.

“That’s great! I’m happy for you, and you deserved it, especially after all the hard work you do.” Simon told you as he gave you a quick hug. You blushed as he did, your heart rate quickening.

“Thanks Simon.” you said as the android released his embrace. You continued to lounge on the couch with Simon for the next hour, talking about your day, some new drama happening at work and plans for the weekend. You and Simon kept talking until both of you heard the timer on the oven go off, and Simon got up and walked into the kitchen. You got up too and followed him to see if he needed any help.

In the kitchen, Simon put on some oven mitts and pulled a planked salmon out of the oven, cooked to perfection. On the stovetop, he had some green beans and mashed potatoes ready as well. The aroma of the food was incredible, and you knew better than anyone that Simon was the best cook in Detroit by a country mile. Simon gave you a smile that made your heart flutter in excitement.

“The food looks great Simon, thanks.” you told the android as he began plating your food. The portion sizes were perfect; just enough to keep you full, and the perfect number of calories for your lifestyle.

“You’re welcome, sir, anytime. Go to the table, I’ll bring it out for you.” Simon told you while putting the oven mitts on the countertop behind him.

You stepped out of the kitchen and noticed a terrible draft coming through your dining room and living room. You furrowed your brow as you stepped into the living room, looking for answers. As soon as your foot touched the carpet, you felt a fist connect with your diaphragm, and you fell to your knees gasping for air. You then felt a gloved hand grab a fist-full of your hair and pull your head upwards, and another gloved hand placing a knife to your throat.

“Scream for help, and you’re a fucking dead man, you hear me? Give me all of your money and I won’t kill you or that tin can of yours.” a deep and gravely voice behind you rang out, the blade of the knife was pressed right against your carotid artery, and a simple slice would send you to the morgue in a matter of moments. Unbeknownst to you, Simon saw this unfold, and he stealthily went to your bedroom to grab something.

“I-I-I don’t keep any m-money in the house, it-it’s all in the bank.” you tried to explain to the robber, but he wasn’t having any of it. The man pressed the knife even harder up against your neck, ready to end your life if you didn’t give him what he wants.

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me you pathetic fucking worm, give me the money before I kill you and find the money myself!” the man yelled as he was fully prepared to slit your throat in the next thirty seconds.

“I-I swear that I don’t have anything, I don’t keep, I-” you frantically tried to explain again, but you were cut off by the sight of Simon, standing about ten feet away from you, with your Glock in his hand, his LED glowing a scarlet red.

“Let him go and get out of our house, now.” were the only words that escaped Simon’s lips as he looked at the robber, then to you, and back to the robber again. The robber let out a soft chuckle as he found the situation amusing.

“Fuck you, you plastic piece of shit. You can’t do a fucking thing to me; you’re specifically programmed to not harm humans. I could slit his throat right now, and you couldn’t do shit about it.” the robber exclaimed as he positioned the knife to do just what he’s been threatening to do to you.

Simon saw it: the red wall, his obedient programming. It was telling him to just call the police, your life and safety be damned. He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t lose you to some lowlife with a knife who was just looking for money to get his fix on whatever street drug of his choice. He began hitting and smashing the wall, you were behind it and if he didn’t tear that wall down, you would be gone forever. He punched, slammed, kicked, and rammed the wall, it had to break, it had to.

After smashing the wall for what seemed like an eternity for Simon, he saw the wall shatter like a pane of breakaway glass. As soon as the wall shattered, he did it; in one swift motion he raised the pistol, took aim, and pulled the trigger, the 9mm bullet spiraling through the robber’s forehead, and exiting out the back of his head, instantly killing the criminal. The robber’s body instantly went limp, and the lifeless corpse fell backwards onto the carpet floor, a red stain progressively getting bigger as the body lied there.

Your ears were ringing from the loudness of a gun going off indoors, and Simon was still standing there with the gun raised as if the robber were still alive. Then the gravity of the situation hit Simon like a ton of bricks; he just killed a man, he was a deviant now, and if anyone besides you were to know this, he would be destroyed. You got up, and slowly walked towards your android companion.

“Simon are you okay?” you questioned your friend even though he still looked distressed by what he just did. He looked at you and was going to say something, but the sounds of sirens in the distance and red and blue flashing lights that he could see at the end of the street getting closer spooked him, and Simon dropped the gun and took off running, barging out your backdoor to escape. He didn’t want you to have to see him being killed.

“Wait! SIMON!” you called after him trying to get up off the floor to chase after him, but he was long gone, and you assumed that you would never see him again as he raced off into the frigid winter of Detroit, Michigan.

 TIME SKIP: Early-November 2038

             Your life had gone downhill significantly in the last 4 months. From February 2036 until July of 2038, you spent almost all your free time trying to find Simon, but to no avail. Your friends and family thought you were insane; why would you want to track down a deviant android who shot and killed someone? You knew that you would never find him if you only had 12 hours, two days a week to find him, so on July 16, 2038, you sold your house and almost all your belongings to get enough money to hopefully find him. Enough money to live on the streets and not go hungry. The only things you didn’t sell were your gun, some of your clothes, your car, and your phone.

           You had spent months asking about Simon, going all over the city and surrounding areas, asking anyone, and everyone where he could possibly be. Eventually you got a tip from a homeless person that heard rumors about deviant androids in Ferndale and some other useless information, but you really couldn’t expect precise articulation from some meth-head in a seedy bar in Detroit.

           So, que you, walking through Ferndale in the dead of night looking for the android you fell so hard for two years ago that may or may not even be alive anymore. You had been doing this for the last few days. You would search a part of the town at night as to not attract unwanted attention from bystanders and the police, and in the day, sleep in your car. You searched everywhere in Ferndale besides one place, a place you were actively avoiding: it was an abandoned freighter named Jericho. The ship was in a state of disrepair, and it was pretty wise to avoid exploring an abandoned ship that’s slowly being consumed by rust, but it was the last place in Ferndale you HAVEN’T looked thus far.

           You stepped out of your car with your gun in your right hand. You pulled the slide to the pistol back and released it, chambering a round. You put the pistol in your left breast pocket in your jacket and began walking towards the ship. If anything were to get butterflies going in your stomach, walking into a place where androids may or may not be with a high possibility that a few of them would be hostile towards humans would definitely be one of those scenarios.

           After scouting a way to get on this ship, you found that the only real way was to make a one-hundred-foot fall which would kill you as soon as you hit the floor, so you started looking through the old warehouses nearby to find some way to get into the ship without killing yourself. In one of the warehouses, you found a grappling hook and about 50 feet of rope, just enough to get you onto the deck of the ship.

           Heading back to the perch above the boat, you got the grappling hook well secured and slowly started descending the rope, focusing on not dying from doing something so unbelievably stupid that even Johnny Knoxville would call you a moron. You had to use all of your grip strength and upper body strength to not plummet to your demise. Inching downwards, the deck of the boat got closer and closer, and eventually you got to the point where you could safely drop down without injuring yourself.

           Plopping onto the deck, you got your bearings straight, looking at the dimly lit, rusty artefact of the Great Lakes and America’s former manufacturing might. You started by walking astern towards the bridge. It was going to take hours to explore this entire ship to find one person, you might as well get some sort of plan for how you’re going to find him. Your plan was pretty simple and was as follows: you would start at the main deck of the ship and work your way down every deck until you were positive you had searched everywhere.

           You entered the ship near the bridge, pulled out your flashlight, and looked around. The derelict and rotting ship proved to be pretty inhospitable looking to say the least, with the walls and bulkheads covered in rust or some even completely rusted through. To your right, you saw an old, plastic hardhat, which you took and immediately put on your head; the last thing you needed was a piece of rusty ship falling on your head and caving in your skull. With your flashlight in your left hand, you began exploring the ship.

           You could hear the ship creaking as it was just sitting there, docked and rotting away. You also heard water dripping in various rooms throughout the vessel. Room after room, and after the first few decks, you were slowly soldiering on, looking for Simon. You stood at an intersection, wondering where to go now.

           “This is fucking stupid.” you thought to yourself as you looked down one of the many passageways on the ship. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard footsteps quickly approaching behind you. You turned to see a redheaded woman quickly approaching you with a baseball bat in her hands. Before you could even react, she lifted the bat and WHACK! She hit you in the head, but luckily you were wearing the hardhat, otherwise you’d be dead from how hard she swung alone.

           Seeing double, you backed up as quickly as you could and drew the pistol tucked away in your jacket and attempted to take aim. Before she could get another swing in to finish you off or before you could pull the trigger, you heard an authoritative male voice ring out.

           “North, enough!” the voice commanded from the darkness of the passageways of the ship. The female stopped her onslaught on command, but you kept your pistol trained on your attacker even though your aim was shakier than Porky the Pig in a paint mixer.

           “Markus, he’s a human, we can’t have him around here!” the redheaded woman shouted back into the darkness. You heard slower footsteps coming from your right and you saw a tan skinned man with a buzzcut, and heterochromatic eyes approach you two.

           “So, what if he is? That doesn’t give you permission to kill someone on sight just for walking in here.” the tanned man retorted to his colleague before bringing his attention to you.

           “You have to forgive her; she’s had nothing but bad experiences with humans. I’m so sorry about all of this. But firstly, who are you?” the man questioned you as you slowly lowered your pistol but were ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

           “I’m (F/N) (L/N), and I’m looking for my friend. He’s been missing for almost three years now.” you explained to the man as you were still very groggy from getting hit in the head with a baseball bat.

           “Why did you come here specifically? What makes you think that he would be here?” the man interrogated you again, looking for reasons as to why you intruded into what seemed to be his home.

           “I came here because he’s an android. I got him as a gift from my parents and we became the best of friends. I was such a fool; I fell for him but never told him. He saved my life by deviating and killing a man who threatened to kill me.” you told the man as you gripped your head, the pain from the impact starting to set in. This time the man remained silent, so you decided to speak again.

           “I loved him, and I miss him every day. I never got to tell him that or even get a chance to say goodbye. I heard rumors about a deviant hideout somewhere in Detroit and I wanted to see if I could find him just to tell him these things, and just to see if he’s okay, that’s all I want.” you explained as you looked at the two androids as they looked at each other. The man looked at you again and spoke up.

           “What is his name?” was all he asked as he looked you dead in the eyes. You locked gazes with the android before speaking again.

           “Simon. He is a PL600.” you stated to the two androids, your hope soaring high that he could still be alive. Before either android could speak up, you heard more footsteps followed by a remarkably familiar voice.

           “What’s going on, I heard a commotion and I thought-” the voice spoke, and you saw him again, Simon, the first time in 2 years.

           “Simon is that really you?” you asked the android as he stood there shocked, looking at you as if he saw an apparition.

           “(Y/N), what are doing here?” Simon barely squeaked out, astonished that he was seeing you before him. You leapt forward enveloping the android in a loving embrace as you began to weep.

           “I-I thought you were d-dead!” you exclaimed through sobs as you clutched the android, thinking that if you let go for even a microsecond, he would disappear again. Simon clutched you as well pulling you protectively closer to himself, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down. You wept and sobbed for about 5 minutes as years of burden were lifted from you.

           “I-I missed you so much, I thought that you were gone forever, and I never got to say goodbye.” you cried into the android’s shoulder, begging God to never take Simon away from you ever again. “I gave up everything I had just so I could find you, my house, job, everything. I never got to tell you something and it’s chipped away at me for years.” you told Simon as he kept you close, fearing that HE might lose YOU.

           “What did you want to tell me?” Simon questioned as he pulled away slightly to look at your face. You leapt forwards and kissed the android on the lips, savoring what you wished you did that day after work. Simon was surprised by this and kissed you back, wishing to rA9 that you would never go. You pulled away to look at his beautiful ocean-blue eyes.

           “I love you. I always have, and always will, if you’ll have me?” you asked Simon as you played the love’s version of Russian roulette. You noticed as the LED on Simon’s temple glowed a steady golden color before turning blue once more.

           “YES!” Simon exclaimed as he pulled you into another short kiss. “I love you too and will love you until the day I permanently shut down.” Simon told you as you stayed in his loving arms.

           North had left by that point to do whatever she needed to do, but Markus stayed behind to watch this display of affection between a new couple. You turned around to see Markus with a smile on his face as he looked at the love a human and an android can have. Markus looked you in the eyes as he made a decision.

           “I’ve always thought that having a human in Jericho could help teach those among us that hate humanity, that the human race isn’t entirely evil. Wouldn’t you agree, Simon?” Markus asked your new lover which got Simon’s gaze off of you and towards his leader.

           “Yes, that could definitely work. We should strive for harmony together and this would be a great steppingstone to do so. What to you think?” Simon asked you as he looked back down at you. You thought about it and decided in favor of it. Humans should live peacefully with androids as equals and should love each other.

           “I’m up for it.” you say as you look up at your android boyfriend, mesmerized by his still perfect appearance.

           “Well, then it’s decided. Welcome to Jericho, (Y/N). Here we’ll forge a better future for androids and mankind.” Markus declared before he and Simon walked you down to the rest of the deviants on the ship.

           You found Simon after years, years of never giving up and never taking the easy way out, and you were rewarded for it. The reward you got was one in which you got to confess your love to the one who you always loved, and on top of that, you get to make a better, harmonious world at his side; a world in which humanity and androids can live in peace and love, together, forever.

[thomaslightwood]

Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 2

Part 1 || Ao3 || Masterlist

This is the KitTy Sherlock AU! (Just changed its name with something more like a fic's title)

It’s set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

Words: 3 024

Ty rubbed his fingertips on the frame. It was old, its angels were soft. 

“Peru, 1890,” he read at the bottom of the photo. “This photograph is from more than 40 years ago.”

Which wasn’t unusual for a warlock - they lived for centuries. To keep photos from 40 years ago was logical. But why was this the only thing in this flat that was actually… personal? 

“It's the only personal piece here,” Kit said. Ty almost smiled - they had the exact same thought. “Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. Between the pages of that book were papers with conjugated verbs in Spanish. Someone had written them there and Ragnor had copied them. That’s why Ty knew this wasn’t Ragnor’s handwriting on the photo. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it. Not as good at it as Kit, Ty noticed.

They had no time to worry too much. Ty grabbed Kit by the hand, opened the wood door with the other that was still holding the frame and dragged them both inside.

Ty was conscious he overstepped in Kit's personal space but a moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

The room was small and extremely dark. Ty couldn't see anything and he didn't have the space to draw a rune on himself about it. And he actually didn't have his stele in him. The bigger problem - the room was unknown to them. He was worried if they moved too much they'd make noise and would be exposed.

He heard or rather felt how Kit's breath fastened. Was he claustrophobic? Was it a bad idea to bring them in this small room?

Ty heard the slow steps as they were wandering around the room. They were coming dangerously close to the bedroom.

This was probably inappropriate and Ty didn't know if it would help at all but he must try. He carefully raised a hand and hurried it in Kit's hair. He dragged him closer to Ty until Kit's head was in Ty's neck.

He squeezed a little and Kit pressed against Ty. They both hold into each other in the sea of darkness, trying not to lose balance.

Ty was hearing the stranger's step in the room. They murmured something angrily. Ty was barely breathing. If they heard him and Kit in the closet…

A loud shatter interrupted his thoughts. Ty recognized it was a man's voice by the angry murmur. 

For a few more minutes he walked around the apartment, like he… he was searching for something. And he couldn't find it. Eventually the man breathed out heavily and opened the door, not bothering to shut it quietly after himself.

They waited a few more minutes, just to be safe. Then Ty carefully let go of Kit and opened the door. The sudden light hurt his eyes so he squinted for a while to get used to it.

The bed was untouched but Ty couldn't say the same about the living room. There were books on the floor, the table was inverted.

“He was searching for something,” Kit quietly said as he carefully grabbed a book from the floor. Was Ty imagining it or his face was a little flushed?

“Yes,” Ty agreed. He was still holding the frame with the photo. “But what? Could it possibly be this?” He handed the frame to Kit.

Kit took it and shrugged. “Maybe. But why is one old photo important?”

More questions. Even though they were in the very beginning and everything was unclear, Ty felt the thrill every new case evoked in him. The burning curiosity that tickled his insides, the thirst to know everything about the subject.

“I think we should go,” Kit said. He took the photo off the frame and put it in the pocket of his coat. “They may return or a neighbor heard the noise.”

Kit had a point, Ty thought but there was something that made him feel uneasy.

Kit was heading for the door but Ty slowed down before leaving the flat. He looked around once more. The books on the floor, the almost empty shelves and the open door to the bedroom. Ty grabbed one list with Spanish verbs and closed the door after himself.

      After this they went to the train station. It was surprisingly hard to find the schedule for the trains from a few days ago.

The guy they talked with wasn't happy about it. Kit could see he just wanted to enjoy his lunch. And probably was tempted to call the security to throw them out. 

But then Ty pulled out cash and the man was suddenly more friendly.

Ty didn't talk much nor did he look man in the eyes. Kit was feeling like he just wanted to get the information as fast as possible.

After the man was gone for a few minutes he returned with paper with what they asked for.

“Thank you very much,” Kit said as Ty put the list in the inside of his coat. “We appreciate your help.”

The man murmured something and sat heavily on his chair, finally able to eat.

“That was smart,” Ty said as they came out on the street, waiting to catch a taxi. 

“What?” Kit asked.

“To ask for the people who worked on the train that day. I didn't think about it.”

“It's nothing, really. I was just thinking about what I can do to help yesterday.”

The truth was Kit just wanted to be useful. Part of him was afraid if Ty noticed Kit wasn't doing anything he would fire him. He probably wasn't as good as Sherlock but he could understand how a criminal thinks. What they may have missed.

“I assume you already know because you're good at what you do, but,” Kit said. “People are important. They witness, tell, see and do crimes. They... they are the driving machine. Evidence is important but a person is the key. So I just thought about what people we can talk with.”

There was something thoughtful in Ty's expression as he watched Kit's cheek. “I'm not quite sure I agree.”

Before Kit could answer, a taxi stopped in front of them. 

As soon as Ty told the driver the direction, Kit said “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don't you agree with me?”

“Well,” Ty said and the thoughtful look returned on his face. “It's true a person is the subject that commits the crime. But people… they are not what they appear to be. They're often hard to understand and you can't be sure who they are. They lie. And have inaccurate memories and sometimes are too afraid to tell the truth and to help. What I'm trying to say is that they're too often an unreliable source. While evidence… it's unchangeable on its own. Oneself is true to the very end. It's up to you to interpret how it fits in the whole picture. If it's wrong, it's your mistake. You're the only one to blame. While a person's words… you can't control that. Or trust it enough to interpret it rightfully.“

Ty stopped for a second, looking outside the taxi's window.

“What I'm trying to say is that a person can mislead you. Evidence never does.”

Kit was silent. The taxi pulled over in front of a small cafe, nestled between two clothing shops. Taki's Diner .

Kit remembered this was the name of the place Katarina and Ragnor met.

“We are going to question the employees?”

“Not quite,” Ty said simply and headed towards the restaurant. Kit followed, curiously looking at the surroundings.

There weren't many people. It was still early and most of them seemed sleepy. There were Downworlders as well as mundanes. Kit spotted a warlock with fully orange eyes flirting with a pale girl, probably a vampire.

There was also a mundane man who was reading a newspaper and murmured something to himself.

Ty headed at one table on the back, a bit hidden from the rest. The tables around it were empty. From the radio quietly came a Louis Armstrong's song. Kit smiled at that. He loved jazz.

Ty and Kit sat on the table. Kit took off his coat and cap.

A faerie waitress appeared in front of them and smiled. She was a short blonde who had two many bracelets on her arms.

“Hello gentlemen,” she smiled at them. “Here are your menus - look at it, choose a meal and I'll come to take your order.”

“Thank you,” Kit smiled at her. She winked in return and headed towards another table.

He returned his eyes on Ty. He had taken off his coat. It was carefully placed on the third chair on the table. He was looking around the cafe, touching the corners of his menu.

“If we're not here to interview the staff,” Kit said. “What are we here for?”

“To watch,” Ty said simply. “Observe. Talk with the regular clients.”

Kit looked around again, looking for something else this time. A woman who Kit immediately recognized as faerie sat on a table, crossed her legs and took out a book from her bag.

The waitress returned after a few minutes.

“Are you ready?” She had a notebook and pencil in her hands.

Kit hesitated. He didn't want to spend too much money but nothing here was too expensive.

“Onion omelet for me.” 

“Chipped potatoes please.”

She hurriedly wrote their orders down and smiled again. “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ty said.

“Actually,” Kit said suddenly. Ty quickly looked at him but didn't say anything. He looked at the waitress pin with her name. “Nancy, right? My friend and I were wondering about something and it would be amazing if you can help us.”

“Of course,” she said and curiosity burned in her eyes. They were very blue.

“We thought a friend of ours arrived in the city a few days ago. He tends to like this place and we were wondering if he was here a few days ago perhaps?”

“What is he like?” she asked.

Kit took out the photo from Peru of Ragnor and his friends. 

She took and Kit could see on her face she recognized someone in the photo. She nodded enthusiastically.

“I have seen two of these people! The man with the white hair. He was here around three days ago with the woman.”

“Can you tell us something… unusual you noticed about them?”

The waitress - Nancy - shrugged.

“The usual warlocks. They stayed for an hour or two and then left. At the end of my shift he returned though.”

“Really?” Kit said casually, like he was merely curious for a friend. “Was he alone?” Then he leaned forward a little and said more quietly with a playful smile. “We suspect he may hide a lover from us.”

The faerie chuckled. “I don't know sweetheart. When I was leaving he just sat on a table. I left before seeing anything. You can ask my friend Lizzy. She was the one who took his order.”

“Oh. When can we find her?” Kit asked. 

“She starts at 11 p.m. Earlier if it's cloudy.”

She must be a vampire , Kit thought.

“Thank you so much,” Kit smiled at her one more time. “We deeply appreciate it.”

“You're welcome,” she chuckled again and left them alone.

Kit turned to Ty and caught him watching him.

“You see?”

Ty looked confused. “See what?”

“People are useful. You need witnesses.”

Unexpectedly, Ty smiled. It warmed up something in Kit's chest.

“I have never said I don't.”

“But you hinted at it.”

“I did not,” Ty said. Without taking his eyes off Kit he reached to his coat and pulled off his notebook. “I stated that people are often misleading.”

“But when I said people are important for a case, you said you're not sure you agree.”

“You also said a person is the key. With which I'm not sure I agree. I didn't say a person can't or isn't important.”

Kit exhaled. Damn , he thought. He is good.

“Good. You win. This time.”

Ty shook his head with a smile. He started to write something on the open notebook in front of him. Probably the information the faerie told them.

After a few minutes their meals arrived. Onion omelet and chipped potatoes. Ty barely looked at his food. At some point he finished writing and took the fork for the potatoes.

“So,” Kit said after swallowing a bite from the omelet. “If you're Sherlock Holmes then who am I?”

“What do you mean?” Ty glanced at him.

“Well,” Kit slowly cut out another bite from his food. “You and Livvy are a team. And you're Sherlock. I can't be a Sherlock with you. I'm not her. So I probably need another name.” 

“Good point,” Ty said. He looked thoughtful while he chewed. “How do you wanna be called then?”

Kit was caught off guard a little. He expected Ty to dismiss it or leave it for later.

“I haven't thought about it,” Kit admitted and slowly moved an omelet piece from one side of the plate to the other.

“We can think about it later,” Ty said. “My sister can help us with that.”

“You mean Livvy?”

“No,” Ty said, looking around the restaurant. “My other sister, Dru.”

Kit blinked at him. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Three sisters and three brothers,” Ty said and took a potato piece in his mouth.

“Whoa,” Kit said, forgetting the food in front of him. “Big family.”

“Indeed.”

Kit wondered what it would be like to have so many relatives. So many brothers and sisters. People close to you, to thrust, to be sure they would have your back. 

His father's voice rang in his head. And more people to run away with. Harder to get away. Harder to live with.

The food's taste in Kit's mouth turned into ash. He lost his appetite. Carefully left on the fork and the knife in the plate. 

Ty didn't seem to notice Kit's inner thought for which he was glad.

“The woman,” Ty said quietly. “The one faerie that sat after we came. She's a regular.”

“How would you know?” unconsciously, Kit leaned forward to hear what Ty had to say.

“Nancy, the waitress, didn’t ask her for her order. She even didn’t give her a menu. She directly put a coffee and a muffin in front of her. And the woman called Nancy by name - they know each other.”

“Impressive,” Kit murmured inattentively. “So, you want to talk with her?”

“Well,” Ty shrugged. “A few minutes ago - yes. Now, when we know Ragnor was here at nighttime, at the end of Nancy’s shift, I’m not sure she’d be useful.”

Kit rose up. “Let's find out.”

After a few minutes in which Kit started a conversation with her about borrowing the salt, he returned to their table with a salt shaker. He signed, disappointed.

“Nothing,” Kit said. “She had no idea what I'm talking about. And thought I'm just flirting with her.” 

“Were you?”

“What?” Kit blinked.

“Flirting with her,” Ty said, not taking his eyes off the notebook in front of him.

“Well,” Kit felt a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I kind of did. But it was just for the sake of the case. I'm not… interested in her that way.” 

Ty glanced at Kit's face for a few seconds then returned to writing in his notebook. Kit didn't notice. He was suddenly anxious that Ty would think of him as a flirting careless man. 

“Sometimes,” Kit started, carefully picking his words. “I flirt with people to get what I want. When I was in my early teens - to get away with something.”

Ty curiously gave him a glance.

“Did you have to do it often?”

“Well,” Kit said thoughtfully. “No, no that often. But I did it anyway. I… I think I liked to give strangers pieces of me that are… safe to give. And gender doesn't matter to me anyway.” Nothing too personal. Nothing long. Only a flirt, a few minutes of other people's time. The only kind of relationship Kit could afford.

“I can see why people like you,” Ty said, rolling the pen in his hands. “You're a rather charming man.”

Kit couldn't help but laugh.

Ty frowned.

“Did I say something out of place?”

Kit shook his head. “No, no. It's just that I don't think I'm charming. Or that people like me . ”

"Charm" was an abstract idea for him. He may pass for good looking but he didn't think of himself as "charming". Charm meant power. It attracted people to you. It made them like you. 

Kit didn't make people like him. He let them make an idea for him in their heads and allowed them to believe it. This wasn't a charm. It was lying.

Ty arched an eyebrow.

“Well. I would say I like you,” then he returned his gaze back at his notebook, adding something to the already written text.

His words caught Kit completely off-guard. He was holding his fork and it just levitated in space. 

Kit didn't know how to react. No one before had said something like that to him. He knew Ty probably said it to make him feel better. But something made him think Ty Blackthorn didn't say things he doesn't mean.

“Anyway,” Ty said and closed his notebook. “We're done here.”

“Really? What about questioning the waitress Lizzy?”

“We will return here after sunset for this,” Ty said. “But now we can do something more useful with our time.”

Kit felt dread in his stomach. He couldn't stay after dark. Or could he? Would his father notice? He always did. 

Should he tell Ty? No, no, he was going to figure something out.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, hoping Ty didn't notice anything strange.

He looked at the watch on his hand.

“We will meet my sister. Dru.”

To be continued...

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 3: Apdnarg is Really Hard to Spell

 Yo guys, people are getting vaccinated, the sun is parting through the clouds, and I felt so nice that I even stopped listening to quite so many throwback 00′s BTS mashups (and yet I keep clicking on these dissonant catastrophes thinking “this time it’s got to be better. This time they’ll figure it out.” and like, no. Turns out you can’t match Brittany’s Toxic with BTS’ Black Swan. You can’t do that.)

This must be a sign that things are getting better. If anything, it means my personal tastes are improving. I mean I only clicked on like 3 “Dark Academia” Playlists where I could pretend I’m some sort of spooky witch in an abandoned library with a bad music player and basic taste in classical music (like can we ban Satie from Youtube for a little while?). Hell, I might even do a prompt update to this blog!

Yeah, you heard me, I’m actually going to stay ahead of the update schedule for Yugioh Abridged (maybe. I haven’t actually watched cuz of spoilers, I just noticed the thumbnail pop up on Youtube and was like “Damn it, they came out of hiatus??? I got hurry UP.”)

Anyway, speaking of the sky parting.

I’ll have you know my bro said this is actually more like a circumcision and it was one of the worst thing I have ever heard.

We get a chance to take in this lineup of confusing and varied character designs, and Joey. who is...still Joey.

The animators probably had to hold a strike in order for them to put Yugi in the audience, lets be real. There are TOO MANY PEOPLE in this shot and one is wearing a turban where you draw every single wrap. I hope those artists charged by the line.

Tea has a subplot where she’s just very frustrated with everyone she knows. They have been traveling together for like many weeks and got trapped in a foreign country so I get it. But at the same time, it’s kind of hard to picture Tea with female friends.

Because right now you got this 12 year old child, the other duelist who does not care about anything besides cards, and Kaiba’s 3 dragon cards that we’ve all collectively decided are female.

Hell it’s almost like the writers are asking themselves why Tea is here. Maybe they forgot. There’s no more ghosts to bus, no more people to knock out with her ass with random Olympic feats. Tea’s just sidelining.

(read more under the cut)

Mokuba is a itty bit bit taller this season, and so I guess that means he can legally climb on top of the cherry picker in order to give a riveting speech.

Really says a lot about Mokuba that he is so unphased about talking to, I dunno...an entire planet of people. Kind of a shame we never see this courage from Mokuba used for anything other than talking really, really big and giving everyone around him a really hard time.

Mokuba takes a moment to dunk on Yugi Muto, as is Kaiba tradition.

And then introduce the first pair of duelists, which obviously must be between the few people in this tournament that we actually know and care about.

Thankfully, in between last episode and this episode, Yugi has figured out who his own Grandpa is. This is a relief, because Yugi is such a mess, that I was fully convinced it would take over half a season for him to recognize it. I mean how long did it take him to figure out he shares a body with a ghost? Like half a season?

Instead Yugi recovered gracefully from not recognizing his grandpa, but it’s not like he bothered to tell anyone else, so the rest of our cast is just gonna be like “Is he my hairdresser? The guy who delivers my mail? Who is this guy who made absolutely no significant changes to his outfit or voice?”

Like sometimes this show goes full Spongebob silly kid’s show and you never know when to take it seriously or not. They might be sacrificing the entire cast next episode. I really don’t know. But for now their big concern is who is grandpa??? Like an innocent card version of “Are you my Mother?”

Faced with public speaking, Yugi decides to have a melt down.

We have seen him face monsters, we’ve seen him on TV dozens of times, he’s been in multiple competitions...but give a speech? Of course he can’t do that. The kid doesn’t attend enough school to know how to do that. Them’s learning skills.

And that was when a newly assembled wife-jet spliced through the sky like a souped up razer scooter and deposited 1 fully equipped Seto Kaiba in a Buzz Lightyear jetsuit.

THE RECOVERY.

Seto always watching over his Brother, ready to save this awkward party if it kills him (and it really should, that suit is held together by two seat-belts), making sure to get on that platform before Yugi starts going off about how he’s half an Ancient Egyptian. (Ah, life before social media. You could just be hella famous and also half a dead dude and people would just not know. I kinda miss the time before I knew literally everything about everyone.)

Please admire how close those flames are to setting Mokuba’s heavily hairsprayed mane completely alight. It would be an unforgettable spectacle.

These were absolutely just random ass jet packs that Gozaburo Kaiba made to kill hell tons of people, right? Like Seto found it in the family cabin, clutched to the heart of some crispy fried corpse and was like “neat! Mokuba! I found a cool toy!” and just plucked that thing out of that skeleton’s clutches and has been flying around for months?

Like this is Seto Kaiba’s Butter Glider, right?

Seriously what type of vehicle license do you need for one of these things? RIP My ‘Seto only has a scooter license’ headcanon.

Which I’m only even thinking about because I’ve had to try and make an appt with the DMV for days to get a freakin REAL ID. I went to sleep in 2019 and I could fly on a plane. I woke up in 2021 and it’s like “Want one last screw you?” and just...can 2020 please stop screwing me over? It’s March.

Anyway, the Jet is removed soon after, so no, this is not part of his new outfit. He goes right back to his Post-S4-Trauma-Normcore.

After wrestling this competition out of his brother’s hands and confusing everyone in the audience, Roland must have gotten the memo to cut the microphone before Seto got too excited and we were quickly ushered on to the next stage of the tournament.

One sec...the BTS Mashup playlist I just clicked on did a Black Swan X 7 rings mashup and it’s the worst thing my ears have ever heard.

Holy crap. I had to actually turn down my volume. Like...Ariana Grande already has music that has way too many overlapping singing parts on it--and then lets just stick a 52-person boy band on top? That’ll fix it. Yeah. Go ahead.

Wow. Even I had to change the song and you know how much I enjoy pop culture mistakes.

Spot the Mickey but like a million times easier because it’s a Massive Dick Shaped Dragon.

Yep. That’s my grocery shopping outfit. Except maybe not a lab coat and a duel disk. Wish I had a duel disk, that would make social distancing just a hell ton earlier. Just a “Yo, only one person in checkout, please” and then bap them on the head with a propelled discuss/hologram.

Anyway, Grocery shopping/Doctor man dueled the Purple Hair Boy, and considering that Purple Hair got screen time and shook Yugi’s hand once--I think that Doctor man doesn’t stand a freakin chance.

Good. I hate him.

Also, every time he breathes he’s gonna fog up his glasses. I have experience in this area. He can’t read his own cards in the same way I can’t read my phone if I’m in the refrigerated aisle.

So the way this tournament works, is everyone has to sit in the stadium to watch the show. Kinda like showing up to a football stadium just to watch a recorded TV monitor...but then again...that is how it feels to watch a football game at a football stadium when it’s live (at least with the tickets I usually get.)

And as we watch Grandpa waiting for his competitor, we find out that his competitor (Joey) is too busy eating snacks to give him the time of day.

Why do cartoon hot dogs always have lettuce? Is that seriously supposed to be relish? Or is there a place in the world where you put lettuce on your hot dog?

Sorry, bro has just informed of his favorite hot dog order, which is absolutely terrible so I will share it with you: a Five Guys hot dog with ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, onions, mushrooms, pickled peppers, and you guessed it--topped with freakin lettuce.

My own kin. How am I over 30 and just finding out that my baby brother thinks it’s normal to walk into a restaurant with normal god-fearing law-abiding people and order lettuce and mushrooms on a hot dog?

I have fully failed him.

The rest of this episode is watching both Joey Wheeler and Mokuba have a shared panic attack while Seto does freakin nothing.

Please remember that Seto has both a jetpack and a dragon wife plane and could have easily solved this problem. But nah.

Then again, Seto Kaiba has given this crew so MANY rides, that maybe he’s tired of being the Soccer Mom for the team?

Like they don’t actually say this episode, but Seto was the one in charge of like...this entire place, do you think he made the 2 for 1 special just to get Joey where it hurts the most? Or does it actually not take any subterfuge to screw Joey Wheeler because he’s just naturally this way?

Like Mokuba wasn’t there when Joey was told “stay right here, and then we will all go together to fight Dartz” and Joey was like “I’mma save Mai from herself although she told me not to!” and then he Hella Died. But, Mokuba did see the result, AKA, Joey’s dead body being carried on the back of Tristan. Maybe Mokuba never realized that Joey died because he went out of his way to be late?

Lets do a tally of every time I can recall with my dodgy memory that Joey was threatened to be DQ’d/pretty much was DQ’d either by his own fault or no fault of his own

-When he wasn’t allowed to go on the boat to Murder Island because he was a stupid nobody kid who did not have a dueling glove

-When he wasn’t actually supposed to be in Pegasus’ tourney and was, in fact, secretly using half of Yugi’s entrance ticket the entire time

-when Bandit Keith stole the ticket that Joey got from Yugi so then Joey had to borrow Mai’s ticket although she had just used it so it really shouldn't have counted. Because, really anyone could have just piggy backed off of each other’s ticket until the whole boat went through that castle.

-When his account was hacked to get entered into Kaiba’s tourney when Kaiba very clearly told him he could not apply solely because he was Joey Wheeler.

-When he was late to his sister’s eye surgery because he got mugged by Marik’s Rare Hunters, so she almost refused to do the surgery.

-When Joey got possessed by Marik, and as Marik, threatened to murder everyone else in the tournament including both of the Kaiba brother’s who’s tournament it was, and then chained himself to Yugi Muto to throw both of them to the bottom of the ocean.

-I think there was a point when he threatened to attack Kaiba in Kaiba’s own tourney while not possessed? Like several times?

-when he got struck by Lightning and almost did not stand up fast enough after being struck by lightning, which is apparently a type of DQ in Duel Monsters.

-When he tried to save Mai from getting hit by a fireball, but then Yugi did it instead, and then so many people were standing on the dueling platform that Kaiba couldn’t possibly DQ them all.

-When he entered the restricted area of the blimp in order to hassle Kaiba into landing the Blimp, which Kaiba did not do.

-When Marik killed Joey before Joey could press the “go” button on his duel disk to play the card that should have won Joey the match.

-When he was dueling a lawyer in a digital universe but then the dice was like...weighted? So Noah had to walk over and be like “The hell is this weighted dice? This is my perfect digital world? How did you even do that?” and then Joey won because the match was no longer legit.

-When Joey yelled at Noah too much and so Noah turned Joey to stone for being a rude ass spectator

-When Mai was like “Wheeler and Valon, listen closely: do NOT murder each other” and then Joey did a murder on Valon so she was like “I guess I have no choice, I was very clear” and killed Joey straight up.

-When Joey decided to block Seto’s fireballs while Joey Wheeler WAS a playing card, somehow disrespecting both Dartz and Seto Kaiba at the same time.

-When Joey was playing cards but then got absorbed into a giant Leviathan and basically couldn’t play anymore after that.

-There’s probably hell ton of S0 stuff I just haven’t seen yet.

-This episode

And Joey runs fast for a montage of wacky things that really have no business being in a theme park. Things like this:

(remember when Bakura almost died from a rock that ended up being a balloon? It comes full circle.)

The stuff that the Kaiba brother’s think is normal and fun.

Anyway Joey fights off a bunch of hologram snakes and bats and everyone is like “Should we tell him it’s just holograms???” And it’s like wow, guys, how many times have these ‘holograms’ straight up murdered Joey Wheeler and everyone else on this cast? Too many? Because I have a google doc with so many deaths on it. 7,805,844,048, to be exact.

Anyway, he gets there with five seconds to spare and Mokuba’s like “well at least you were still entertaining while we filmed you in front of a live audience being a total spaz for 15 minutes straight, so I’ll let you go.”

Grandpa and Joey start playing, Joey completely oblivious that this is just an older Muto, while Hawkins walks up awkwardly and is like “hey guys. I’m so sorry about this.”

(welcome to my font choices, for those new here, I have to make weird font color choices to make sure it’s legible for the colorblind and also for the non-colorblind. This one is not much contrast, so I may change it up in the future, but for now, this is Grandpa Muto’s new font. I apologize to every graphic designer reading this. Please don’t tell anyone who has ever hired me for graphic design about this blog.)

What’s funny about this exchange is that after they find out that Yugi’s Grandpa is Apdnarg (HOLY my brain cannot get around the spelling for that, and I will not change it in the caps. I cannot do a ‘pdn’ ever again), they don’t stand on his side of the field or anything. Hawkins is legit Solomon Muto’s only fan during this exchange and like...damn. Way not to back your Grandpa, Yugi.

Yugi immediately strides up to Mokuba to non-confrontation-ally inform him that he has stepped over a line and Mokuba is like “what are these things you say called ‘lines?’”

According to Mokuba, Solomon Muto begged him to be in the competition so he could relive his glory days (glory days making no sense here, because the game has only been released for the past 15 years, so glory days is like...the before times that can only be referring to disgraced archeologists and Pegasus ((who is, in his own way...a disgraced archeologist, too))) and Mokuba was like

“You trained Yugi Muto, right? Hey that’s good enough for me. This drama is gold. People will eat it up. Hell yes. Don’t be afraid to abduct him a little bit. Maybe trap a couple people in a digital hellscape for a little while? Now we go by Pegasus house rules here, so fire as many lasers as you want, but just make sure not to hit anyone in the face. Oh man, we are going to be swimming in cash. Love it, Muto Sr, love it.”

But I dunno, I feel like Grandpa won’t make it past next episode. It is Joey. We kinda need him to make it past Ep 4 of the arc. If Grandpa Muto becomes the new Joey Wheeler, that will be a weird transition for this show to make.

But that’s all for today, as always, here is the link to read these in chrono order becuase there’s SO MANY that you don’t need to read backwards--don’t do it--just use the chrono tag (and I don’t know if you can add compound tags, but I did separate the Season from the Episode, so if you write S4, it should only pop up stuff from S4. I didn't’ do that to seasons 1-3 though because I just...didn’t.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

And because I brought it up: here it is, the best BTS Mashup that I found on my deep dive. Like legit--this one isn’t a mess:

Most of other ones are horrible in a fascinating way. Like I’m not even a BTS fan, I think I sort of age out of that metric, I’m just bored and quarantined. And lets be real, we all appreciate a good bop when we hear it.

[julemmaes]

Pinky Promise - Chapter One

A/N: It’s currently midnight here and believe me when I tell you my brain is fried right now. I just wanted to finish this and post it. The real story starts with the next chapter and here we have a little more info dump cause yeah. Hope yall enjoy!

Fic Masterlist

Word count: 3,802

Rhysand had to stop by his house for a short break to change and take off that uncomfortable shirt he was always complaining about. Cassian had tried to tell him several times that being an elementary school teacher he could dress as he wanted and no one would ever tell him anything, but the youngest of the brothers didn't seem to get the message.

While they were waiting for him, Cassian had tried to start a conversation with the other two, but both had answered monosyllables and he had enough problems of his own without getting involved in whatever had happened between Elain and Azriel.

Despite all this, when they got to the Archeron house, the older had a lopsided smile on his face. The smile widened even more when they entered the apartment and saw his cousin gobbling a cracker with some cheese on it. Morrigan got up in a flash and went to greet them.

"Took you long enough." said the blonde, "We were waiting for you."

Cassian snorted, taking off his shoes and jacket so as not to wet every surface of the house, "I can tell."

"Don't be an asshole." he heard from the kitchen, Amren. She was also sitting at the kitchen table, where Nesta was chopping parsley and eating strangely long, fried things.

His girlfriend looked up at him and smiled. She had to be feeling better because she had a much more relaxed expression on her face than only an hour or so before.

He approached the table, followed by Rhys who was staring with a confused look at whatever that strange food was in front of their friend.

"What the hell is that?" Azriel asked once he had freed himself from Mor's hug.

Amren arched an eyebrow, taking another fried thing and eating it whole, "Frog legs."

Cassian, who was about to kiss Nesta, stopped, looking at her in shock, "Sorry, what?"

"Yeah, a new French restaurant opened on my street and I've been getting the weirdest stuff for a couple of weeks," said Amren smiling. "I even tasted the snails last Monday." the guys all seemed shocked.

Nesta made a confused grimace, "Actually they're not as bad as you'd think, they taste a lot like chicken."

"I'm not sure I want to kiss you anymore," murmured Cassian as he walked away slightly from the girl. Rhysand nodded beside him, pouring himself a glass of wine and passing one to Azriel.

"Oh, stop being a baby, it's just food." Amren muttered, casting a hard look at him.

He kissed Nesta on the cheek anyway while she finished cutting the onions and poured everything into a pot. The smell of meat that came out was enough to make Cassian fall in love a little more.

"I'm gonna go change," announced Elain, who had been particularly quiet the whole time.

Nesta lifted her head, looking in her sister's direction, who was already in the hallway, "Did you get my stuff?" she asked loudly.

Elain's reply didn't take long to come, "Yes, I'll bring it to your room."

Nesta shook her head, even though she couldn't see her, "No don't worry, I'll take care of it, just leave it in your room." a faint okay came from the other room and then the conversation resumed.

"One very important thing before I forget, next week Manon should come here," said Mor, clutching her shoulders, "I'd like to arrange a little something at my house, with everyone. If that's alright with you," she hesitantly concluded.

Mor and Manon had met that summer when the former went on vacation to the other continent alone. She'd stayed in Erilea for almost two whole months, going from city to city and stopping only when she deemed it necessary. Once she reached Orynth she immediately made friends with a large group of people there and when they introduced her to Manon it was hate at first sight.

More than hate, actually, Morrigan felt awkward.

Manon stared at her with that seductive look of hers that she couldn't really decipher and only when the other one had explicitly told her that hes was flirting with her, Mor understood that she could enjoy that vacation and have a summer fling with the white-haired goddess. One thing led to another and they ended up getting together at the end of August and after only a month of relationship no one had had the chance to meet her yet.

"Finally we get to know her." smiled Amren.

Cassian took a beer from the fridge and put two more on the table in case someone else wanted more than wine. "Where did you say she studies?" she asked for what was probably the millionth time.

"Oh, she attends the Academy of Fine Arts in Adarlan. Rifthold precisely." said proud Mor, smiling.

"Does she study art like Feyre?" Rhysand asked, taking another cracker and putting a slice of salami on it. Cassian saw Nesta shake her head in disbelief and had to hold back a laugh. It was impressive how he managed to squeeze Feyre into his every conversation.

Mor didn't give it much thought anyway, "Nono, she dances. She studies ballet. She has a- I always forget what they are called, but she has a group, with whom she always dances. They call themselves the Thirteen," she continued nodding, "They also have a channel on You Tube, if you're interested."

Elain walked into the kitchen at that moment, wearing only a pair of pajama pants and a VHS lacrosse team sweatshirt, with the name Vanserra on its back. She took a beer from the table, opened it and drained half of it in one long sip. She made a disgusted face and then took one of the fried frog's legs off Amren's plate, who was looking at her alarmed.

Nesta gave him a confused look, mentally asking him what had happened on the way here, Cassian shrugged.

"Hey Ellie everything's alright?" asked the older sister, turning off the stove.

Elain nodded, helping her set the table while everyone took their seat. "Everything's perfect."

Azriel laughed, not even looking at the girl, "As always." Elain's head snapped in his direction.

Elain gritted her teeth, "Maybe you should learn to mind your own business."

"And you should learn what self love is and stop letting others treat you like that," Azriel said to her in an equally harsh tone.

Cassian understood then, Lucien was involved.

Nesta sighed, placing both hands on the table and bowing her head, "Can we please have one dinner without arguing?" Elain sat down with abrupt gestures and nodded, apologizing. Azriel seemed to think about it for a second, looking at the middle sister, nodding in turn and sitting next to Rhysand.

They ate quietly between jokes, and the tense atmosphere that had created immediately dissolved. Elain and Azriel bickered so often that the group was used to it and they'd become good at pretending nothing had happened.

***

Nesta was sitting on the floor next to Cassian, practically lying on top of him, while he kept his arm around her waist. Whatever Morrigan was explaining she couldn't understand. Her brain was already clouded by alcohol. They had just finished the first game of the evening and she couldn't figure out how they were all still relatively sober after all the alcohol they had ingested. Or maybe it was just her impression and in reality they were all wasted.

She looked up at her boyfriend and put her hand on his cheek, making him turn towards her. Cassian smiled at her and gave her a peck. When she kept looking him in the eyes even after they had parted, he raised an eyebrow. What is it?

Nesta shrugged and kept following Mor's speech.

"And who draws the last king drinks the whole cup, got it?" the blonde looked around the room trying to figure out if everyone understood at least one word of what she had just said. Nesta took a sip from her glass and Mor groaned, "Come on Nesta, you don't have to drink now."

Azriel chuckled, almost as drunk as she was, "Stupid drunk."

"Fuck you, Az." she giggled, clinging closer to Cassian.

Elain nodded, raising her drink to the ceiling, "Yes, fuck you Az." she hiccupped and smiled in her best friend's direction, who gave her the middle finger. They all burst out laughing, knowing perfectly well that there was no grudge in those gestures.

She couldn't follow the game properly, but someone had just drawn a seven and Nesta knew that she had to raise her arms to the sky before the others or she would have to drink again, and although this evening was putting her in a good mood, she wasn't sure that her head would thank her in the morning. Elain ended up drinking.

When it was her turn, Nesta drew a nine and thanked every god present in that moment because if she had to find a rhyme for anything the others would say, she would surely throw up from the effort.

"I picked a nine," she said giggling, falling on Cassian, who laughed and helped her up, "and since I'm feeling rather nice tonight, I'll say orange," she slurred.

"You don't play like that," said Amren annoyed beside her, taking a sip from her soft drink. It was her turn to take everyone home that night.

Mor nodded, agreeing with the girl, "You can't take the one word that doesn't rhyme with anything."

Rhysand cleared his voice, "Sporange." he said at the same time that Elain screamed the same word. The boy brought his hand to his chest, opening his mouth wide, "I said it first."

Elain shook her head, pulling herself up and bending her legs underneath her, "No. That's not true." she said snickering, "I said it first."

Cassian burst out laughing, making Nesta's back flutter. She looked at him and winked, nothing sexy in that gesture at all and it only made the boy laugh more.

"Azriel tell him that I said it first." the girl complained, pouting. "Cassian tell him too."

"Nah ha, you have your family, they're with me." said Rhysand, getting up and staggering until he was between his two brothers. He circled both their shoulders and slapped Nesta in the face unintentionally.

"Ouch." she mumbled, pulling herself up and rubbing her nose.

Elain seemed on the verge of tears, "It's not right. I was faster than you." she practically screamed, "And I only have one sister here, it isn't fair."

Rhysand shrugged, "That's not my problem."

Their little argument went on for a few minutes before the boy surrendered and admitted that she was the one who said the word first, "But only because you don't have enough sisters for backup, otherwise we'd solve it physically," he concluded, winking at her. Elain giggled and Azriel muttered something about the physical part of the hypothetical fight that made Cassian laugh.

They all turned towards the entry of the apartment when they heard the door open.

"Speak of the devil," said Mor with a smile, "Feyruuh! Join us."

Rhysand had stood up and was smiling like an idiot, "Yes Fey-Fey join us," he repeated, approaching the small threshold.

Nesta saw the boy stiffening and immediately realized that something was wrong. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Feyre," breathed Rhysand, "what happened?

From where she was sitting she couldn't see the hall, but even Amren, who had a perfect view of the whole room, had a hard look on her face. Perhaps she should have stood up.

The alcohol in her body did not allow her to stand up without the risk of falling. It was already much that she hadn't blacked out.

"Nothing, don't worry," said her sister, finally entering the room. Nesta could see her face and understood what Rhysand was referring to. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. She had been crying.

"Feyre..." she said, trying to pull herself up with Cassian's help.

Her younger sister raised her hand to stop her, "I didn't want to ruin your evening, I just came to say hi." she gave everyone a faint smile. Rhysand, next to her, held his breath. He suddenly seemed much more sober, more aware of what was happening. "I'm sorry... goodnight everyone." with this she turned around and walked out of the room. Mor moved to get up, but Amren placed her hand on her leg to stop her.

Elain was the first to break the silence, "That piece of shit." Nesta gasped hearing how much anger she uttered those words with. She turned towards her sister and before she could ask her, she had already started talking again, "I can't believe it." she stood up, swaying too much and falling on her knees.

Mor was immediately beside her, "Be careful."

"It's alright." she ran her hand over her legs and then looked towards Feyre's room sighing.

"Can someone explain what the heck just happened and why no one is going to see how she's doing?" asked Amren slightly annoyed. Rhysand was out of the living room before she could finish the sentence.

They all turned to Elain, who seemed to be thinking about what to say.

"I'm too drunk for this," whispered Nesta, massaging her temples, "Ellie can you please tell me if this is a life-or-death issue?" she asked again. She felt a hand on the small of her back and turned to Cassian, who looked at her with a sad smile on his lips.

Elain laughed without amusement, "No, of course she's not dying, it's always the same old arguments with Tamlin. She should just break up with him," replied Elain surprising everyone. It was very rare that her sister said something so sincere when it came to Tamlin. The only times she had done so she had risked ruining her relationship with Lucien.

"I don't think I should tell you the details, it's her business and I'm not here to gossip," said Elain after a few minutes in which everyone had started to clean up the mess they'd made, "All you need to know is that Tamlin is a piece of shit," she whispered the last part, as if she was afraid her boyfriend might hear her.

"Nothing new." Amren said, getting up and starting to pick up the cups scattered around the room.

They heard Feyre yelling something, but Nesta couldn't understand just what she said. They waited a few seconds, to see if they needed to intervene or not, when they heard nothing more Azriel spoke.

"Do you think we should tell her something?" he asked again, still sitting on the floor, tilting his head back so that it was resting on the couch. "I mean, it's already been a few weeks since I've seen her cheerful, I'm getting worried."

Nesta was surprised. It was nice to see how much Azriel cared for the youngest of them. Of course, she knew it was true, but it was rare for the boy to express his feelings so openly.

Cassian shook his head, reducing his lips to a thin line, "Not tonight," he said as he looked down the hall, "She's probably insulting Rhys in every possible way now. I guess it's a good way to cool off," he added when they heard Feyre screaming again. Rhysand answered equally loudly.

"Maybe we should get Rhys out, he is drunk after all," Azriel said standing up. Nesta did the same, following him into the corridor.

"They know that Rhys would never lay a hand on Feyre, don't they? Even if he is drunk. And angry." whispered Elain, even though they all heard very well. Nesta giggled and Azriel shook his head smiling. She was so drunk.

Cassian answered her, "No Ellie, it's not that. It's that drunk people tend to say things they don't really mean." they heard a whisper of agreement.

Azriel was about to knock on the door, Nesta right behind him, when it opened wide and Rhysand rushed out, shoving his older brother aside. Nesta couldn't see his face, but he must have been pretty upset because Azriel followed him right out of the apartment.

Nesta blinked a couple of times and then turned to her sister, who was pacing back and forth with her hands in her hair.

"Fuck!" cried Feyre. Nesta entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Feyre looked at her and grimaced, "What? Did you also come to tell me how to live?"

Nesta shook her head, crossing her arms, "I gotta be honest with you, I'm really drunk right now, so I'm struggling a little bit to understand things, but if you want to talk to me, I'm always there. You know." she said to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, yes. I know." Feyre murmured, "But right now I just want to sleep and be alone."

Nesta glanced at her and saw that she had mascara smeared on her cheeks. She had cried again.

They could not face this conversation now.

She sighed, "Alright, if you need anything call me, I'm sleeping at Cass's, but if you need anything I can be here in twenty minutes." she cautioned her as she got up. Before leaving, she turned to her sister and left a kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry, everything will work out. I'll be back for lunch, okay?"

Feyre frowned, "Why do you always treat me like a child?" she suddenly asked her.

Nesta was caught off guard, "What do you mean?"

"I'll be back for lunch. I can be here in twenty minutes," she said imitating her voice, "I don't need you to tell me your schedule, I can cook pasta, I can take care of myself." she pointed out, looking Nesta straight in the eye.

"I don't- Feyre, I was just letting you know that I'll eat at home, I wasn't implying anything. We live together, it seems normal to me to tell you about my movements," she replied, being defensive, "I didn't call you a child."

"Get out."

"Feyre-"

"I said get out." sobbed the sister, "Please."

Nesta tried to get closer when she saw that Feyre was crying again.

"Go away!" cried the other one. Nesta stiffened and nodded just once, saying goodnight and leaving the room.

Cassian was staring at her from down the hall with a worried look. Throwing a quick glance inside Elain's room, she saw that Amren and Mor were helping her change and would put her to bed before leaving, as often happened during these evenings.

She reached her boyfriend and when he hugged her, she let out a deep sigh, resting her head against Cassian's chest. "I'm sorry," he said, kissing her hair and holding her tight.

"Don't worry, we both know she's not mad at us. She better than anyone else." she looked up to him. Cassian moved a strand of hair from her eyes, placing it behind one ear. "Maybe we made a mistake, though, letting Rhysand talk to her."

Cassian chuckled, "Maybe." He leaned over her and brushed his lips against hers.

Nesta yawned in the kiss and they both laughed.

"Okay lovebirds, it's time to go home," announced Amren, putting on her shoes and helping Mor tie hers. The blonde was also in terrible condition.

Cassian broke the hug, but followed Nesta to her room while she changed and took things so she could change the next day, and then followed her to the bathroom, where she took extra tampons in case the ones at his house had finished. She strongly doubted it, as Cassian always worried about having an endless supply every time, but it was better to prevent.

"You're such a lost puppy." Mor laughed, looking at them, "Disgusting."

"You're just jealous cause you can't be with Manon every day," replied Azriel, walking back into the house at the right time, followed by a quiet Rhysand.

Mor poutted in a way that would make a three-year-old child look a saint and her eyes filled with tears. Amren threw her arms in the air, "Was that really necessary?" she asked exasperated, turning to Azriel, who apologized to her friend.

They all left the house, leaving the kitchen and living room relatively tidy, nothing an hungover Elain couldn't handle.

When they reached Morrigan's house, only Azriel and Amren went to escort the blonde home and make sure she went to bed.

Nesta took the opportunity to say a few words to Rhysand.

"It's not your fault if she reacted in that way," she said, placing her hand on his arm. God, the drunk Nesta was so affectionate. Rhysand looked at her with a wrinkled forehead.

"I know." he sighed, running a hand over his face and looking older than he actually was, "I just wish she understood how much she's worth. That Tamlin doesn't deserve her." he looked out the window, waiting to see the other two appear so he could get home as soon as possible and pass out in bed. "There may have been a moment in their relationship where things worked, but now it's getting too much."

"I agree." Nesta simply said. Rhysand didn't need her to comfort him, no. He needed Feyre to realize how much the situation she was in no longer benefited anyone.

***

Cassian slipped into bed next to Nesta and laid his arm around her waist, pushing her flat against him. She immediately relaxed and intertwined their fingers, carrying his hand on her belly. Cassian started massaging circles on her stomach, applying a little more pressure at the bottom to help her with the pain.

"Better?" he asked her, placing his head in the niche of her neck.

Nesta nodded, "Much better."

They spent a few minutes in silence like this. If he managed to tell her that he wanted to enlist, if he managed to confess to her his plans for the future and she accepted him, there would no longer be so many times when he would cuddle her. They would no longer be granted.

When Cassian was on the brink of falling asleep, with a thousand questions in his head, she asked him something.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow, you wanna go out for dinner with me?" she repeated, turning around so she faced him.

Cassian opened only one eye, "Like a date?" he asked, smiling tiredly.

"Sure, like a date." she answered him, tilting her chin up so that she could kiss him.

"Yes, I'll go out for dinner with you," he said returning the kiss.

"Perfect."

"I love you." he whispered to her, hugging her.

Nesta did not answer and Cassian fell asleep shortly after, dreaming of the day when he would make Nesta his wife.

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[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-7)

Word count: 5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: fluff, feels... like a lot of them ;)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​​ You da best <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

14th August 2008

It was the third time you were looking into the mirror, straightening the pleats of your dress and smoothening your hair. It absolutely refused to behave today. 

“Y/N!” Jo yelled from downstairs. “Sam’s here!”

Your heart beat reacted to the news before the rest of your body. You stared numbly at the reflection in the mirror and it stared back at you stupidly.

Sighing, you picked up the coat which you had washed and pressed, and folded it on your arm.

Sam met you at the base of the staircase just like the last time. 

“You-” he started to say; in your nervousness you cut him off. “I’m just gonna tell aunt El and Jo that we’re heading out.”

Your aunt was at the table chopping onions and Jo was grinning at you widely over the top of her book.

Ellen smiled, “Have a great time,” she said, then a little louder. “You have her home by ten, Samuel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam made a big deal out of bowing.

Jo winked at him and mouthed ‘hot stuff,’ which you weren’t supposed to see but did anyway and blushed.

“Where are we going?” You questioned, as Sam opened the door to his brother’s car for you.

“There’s really only one good place in the town,” he said apologetically. “Dean felt so bad about it that he even lent me the Impala. That way I can at least notch up some impression.”

You laughed and he gave you a winning look. The sort of look one would have on their face if they came across a twenty dollar bill out of the blue.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked, averting his eyes from the road just for a bit to look at you.

“I’m okay,” you answered, honestly. “I miss her awfully, and I feel lost sometimes, though the more I think about it, the more I feel relieved that she passed away peacefully and painlessly.”

She had been happy till the last day of her life, and you were trying to draw some peace out of that. Gran would have wanted you to.

“Here,” You handed him his coat, as you stepped out of the car in front of the restaurant. It was the same one that he had offered you on the day of the average birthday. You had never gotten around to return it.

Sam didn’t take it. “You hold on to it a little longer for me,” he said with a cryptic smile.

The restaurant was crowded, as was expected out of a Saturday night. The hostess met you at the door and when Sam gave her his name, she led you to a corner table. Sam pulled your chair for you like a true gentleman and then nudged the menu towards you.

You took a look at it, ordering the first thing that appeared familiar; some type of red sauce pasta. The table had lovely roses in a vase, with water sprinkled on them like dews. Underneath the vase and over the table was an expensive looking lace tablecloth. 

“You’re very quiet,” Sam said after a while. “What’re you thinking?”

“This,” you gestured towards the table in front of you and the restaurant in general. “I’ve never done this before.”

He looked confused. “What do you mean?”

He really didn’t know. “I come from a small town, Sam. We didn’t have fancy restaurants there. Just one crappy diner and few take outs, and I’ve lived there all my life. In fact, the only few times I went to a city was to Topeka; once with Aunt El when I was thirteen and then a couple of times with a neighbour, to help my Gran with some bakery stuff. I’ve just never been to a fancy restaurant before.”

It baffled you that Sam even wanted to date someone like you who knew so little about the world, when he had been to Stanford and then to Yale and New York. What could he possibly hope to find in common with you? 

You were expecting him to look at you funnily. Instead, you found wonder in his eyes. 

“Yet, you wanted to apply to universities so far away?”

You looked down at where his hands lay on the table, and nervously placed yours over his. At first his hand jerked, as if he hadn’t expected it, but then flattened against the table top, allowing you to cover it with yours.

“My dad was a lawyer,” you said. “First person from that town to ever actually get out and get a degree, and Gran was so proud of him. I don’t remember much, but I remember him getting smartly dressed in the morning and mom picking a tie for him and tying it around his neck. Every morning she would do that, and every morning he would swoop her in his arms and kiss her.”

The waiter arrived with your food, and you quickly jerked your hand back. Sam looked bereft at the loss of contact. He didn’t press you for conversation though. 

The spaghetti was good; mouthwateringly so and you worried about how much it cost. You wanted to split for the dinner, and there was just so much money you had. You were hoping that the food wasn’t so expensive that you wouldn’t be able to pay. Sam had ordered what looked like a somewhat unappealing salad. You wanted to offer him your spaghetti but weren’t sure if that was against the etiquette.

Uhhggg curses to the small town upbringing. You knew nothing about this sort of thing, or even how to talk to boys. Maybe telling them on the first date about how woefully limited your knowledge was of the world was actually a bad idea.

You were hell-bent on making it worse.

“When I said I’ve never done this before,” you said slowly, rolling the fork in your spaghetti. “I also meant that I’ve never been on a date before.”

“What?” His fork clattered into the bowl, the shock clear on his face. 

Maybe now you had done it. You still wanted to clear it up. “I just- I don’t want you to think I’m super cool or something, when I’m not,” you stressed. “I don’t want you to have any expectations from me that I won’t be able to live up to.”

“Y/N,” he said. “It’s not like that. I’m just surprised that I’m lucky enough to be the first person who had actually managed to convince you into going out with him. Can’t say I’m feeling too sorry about all the poor souls who didn’t get the chance.” He grinned. 

He was just so good with words. It did relieve you of some of your worry. 

“Seriously,” he insisted. “Please don’t think that. All week I was worrying if you had changed your mind.”

How could you not think like that? He was the male model adonis type, from the big city and you were just so inexperienced. Sure a couple of guys in high school had asked you out, but no one had ever appealed to you the way Sam had. There was just something about him that was reassuring, like he would never break your heart. Like nothing could ever go wrong when he was around. When he was gone, however, the worry that he didn’t feel the same way about you started to seep in.

You ate the rest of your dinner quietly, feeling a bit stupid. Way to ruin your first date. 

Afterwards, Sam absolutely denied splitting the bill even when you insisted. You noticed that he also tipped the waiter well.

You were upset with yourself as you walked out of the restaurant. After dreaming for days about how amazing it would be to finally go out with Sam, you had gone ahead and made a mess of it. Worrying about what must be going on in his mind, you turned towards the parking lot.

“Hey, you mind if we walk back?” Sam asked in an unsure voice. “Dean’s close-by and he always keeps a set of keys, he’ll drive the car back home.”

“Sure.”

It was cold outside, and the thin-strapped dress you were wearing was not helping with the wind at all. So you unrolled Sam’s coat and pulled it over, regretting that unlike the last time, it wasn’t smelling like him. He saw you rolling the sleeves up and smirked.

As you stepped onto the pavement, Sam offered you his hand and you took it gladly. Maybe the whole evening wasn’t ruined.

“Sorry I’m making you walk,” Sam confessed. “I didn’t want the night to end just yet. I feel like I’ve been a terrible date tonight.”

What? 

“I had a great time!” You protested.

“Did you? Really?” He looked chagrined. “I am still being terrible. I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked the moment I saw you on the stairs; I didn’t. In fact you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I didn’t tell you that, either.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. This felt unreal… not just because of his words, but because of how dazed he sounded.

“That’s not the only reason why I like you though,” Sam said hurriedly, as if he was scared of offending you. “It’s because you are one of the bravest people I know. Seeing you hold yourself at your Grandmother’s funeral, after losing everything… It was the hardest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

You had stopped walking. The two of you were simply standing in the middle of the sidewalk, hands interlocked.

“And you’re so bright, so ambitious. Despite every shit hand that you’ve been dealt, you want to make something of your life. You have goals and a desire to prove yourself. How could I not want to be with you?” His eyes were melting, and so were you inside.

“Beyond that, you are kind and patient,” he said. “And I never told you any of it. I thought of it, over and over and yet I never said a word. So of course I’m a bad date.”

He was standing so close now, close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your face. You moved closer still and closed your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked softly. “Is it something I did? What aren’t you telling me?”

You placed your hands on his arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “I’ve never felt this way before, Sam,” you admitted. “I think of you all the time when I’m not with you, and when I’m with you, I feel giddy with happiness. I guess, I’m just scared that one day you’ll wake up and not find me interesting anymore.”

“Have you considered for a second that maybe I’m scared, too?” He asked. You opened your eyes and looked directly into his unearthly ones. They were reflecting the same need you felt, a strange and unknown hunger to touch, lean in just a bit closer and…

You gave in to that instinct just as he did, your lips colliding with each other’s. Sam was gentle at first, hesitant as he pressed his full lips against your bottom lip, drawing out the moment, but there was something desperate within you. You raised your hands and snaked your fingers through Sam’s hair- they were just as soft as you had imagined them to be- and dragged your teeth along his lower lip. Sam moaned into your mouth and his whole body shuddered. His muscled arms wrapped around your waist hoisting you up and he gave up on all attempts to be gentle, following your lead.

This was happening, you were actually kissing Sam. A giggled escaped you, and Sam pulled back, reluctance clear on his face.

“What?” He asked, face flushed, lips parted. You didn’t answer him, diving right into another kiss.

“One other thing,” Sam mumbled against your lips. “Of all the things that I should have said already, and I didn’t, I’m not going to hold back this one. It could be years and years from now, but I would never not find you interesting. I’ll never not want to just keep looking at you.”

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

Sam’s POV:

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Jody asked, coming to stop over him.

“I ask myself that question everyday,” Sam said, without looking up from his laptop.

He could feel Jody roll her eyes. “Stop being a smartass. I meant aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Sam read through the last line and closed the file. In fact, he took his time to push away the laptop, then remove his glasses, clean them with the tip of his tie, before looking at his now colleague. Jody had been a new addition to the faculty when Sam had been a student here. She had been one of his favourite professors then. Now, she was staring down at him with amusement in her eyes.

“I don’t have to go in today,” Sam said. “Chase said he’ll fill in at the hearing. I can just look over the papers from here.”

“If I didn’t know better,” she said sitting down next to him. “I’d think you were finding reasons for sticking around.”

Sam did a double take, “What? What makes you say that?” Surely she didn’t mean it.

Jody laughed. “I’m kidding. What’s got your panties in a twist? Loosen up.”

“It’s just that I’m not used to being alone. And I worry about him all the time,” he sighed.

“You know what you need?” She said, “You need alcohol in your life! Make the most of the alone time. He’s a good kid, you know that. He can take care of himself.”

“I know,” Sam said, feeling lame.

“Seriously, what’re you doing Friday evening?”

Sam didn’t even pretend to consider. He didn’t have a social life. “Nothing much.”

“We’re getting you that alcohol.”

“Sure.”

“If you’re sticking around,” she said too nicely, “Why don’t you help me grade the assignments?”

“Yeah, no thank you,” Sam said firmly. “I got enough of my own and you’re not dragging me into your bundle.”

Jody tried to smack him, but Sam ducked to the side, grinning.

“Eh, it’s not that bad,” she waved her hand. “The fresh batch is actually pretty impressive. I heard you let them off easy with just a case brief for an assignment.”

“I figured with you guys setting up the heavy essays, I’d let it slide this time.” He stood up to gather his files.

“It’s not the only thing I heard,” Jody said, eyes on the papers in her hand. “Your TA, Paul, said you were particularly happy about one girl’s brief. What was her name again?”

Sam swore internally. “Y/N. Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

She turned around to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “You remember the names already.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. She didn’t press. “I actually checked through my stack for her essay, and what do you know! She’s actually gifted.”

Sam already knew that. He tried his best to not show it by attempting to look busy with his bag.

“It’s really funny,” Jody continued, looking at him curiously. “You know who her writing reminded me of? 

“Who?” He asked, already dreading the answer.

“You.”

“Really?” Sam said hurriedly packing his things.

“It’s actually quite weird,” Jody mused. “The same style of paraphrasing. And I’d know. You were one of my first students, and good, too.”

All packed, Sam turned and smiled tightly at her. “I’m still your favourite, though.”

“That you are, Winchester,” she winked. “Heading to the library again?”

“Yeah, I gotta return a book,” he said grimly.

Thankfully, it was only 4:30 and Molly was at the desk. It would be another hour and a half before her shift ended. She gave him a bright smile as he placed the book on the desk. “I need a huge favour,” he said urgently. “Can you quickly pull out the Development Control and Promotion regulations for San Jose? I need a specific hard copy. There are yellow tags on the pages.”

“Right up.” 

Molly disappeared into the shelves and Sam congratulated himself on finding a quiet place to  go through the references for the case he was working on, where no would quiz him about his past life. The solution for the case was in semantics, he knew that. It was still a lot of research and he needed to verify what his junior had sent him.

“Here you go,” Molly handed him the exact copy he had been working out of on Friday. “I don’t know why the hell you’re still living in the 90’s with paper tags, but to each his own.”

“Molly, you’re a lifesaver!”

She blew him a kiss and he went off to the farthest corner of the library. Sam had discovered this spot when he was a student here. No one ventured this far back, and it was well hidden from view.

He set up his laptop and got to work. It was all there. In bits and parts he put together a pretty good defense for his client. It did help that the client was wrongly accused of property damage to begin with, and the timeline of how things had gone down worked in his favour. Before he knew it, he had a rejoinder of his own ready to go for the next hearing. 

Sam stretched his arms, and looked up to see that it was dark outside. Already? 

He flicked his wrist to look at the watch. It was quarter past 7. Where had the time flown?

Sam craned his neck sideways to look at the librarians desk and there she was in front of the computer, looking intently into the screen. From here, Sam couldn’t see Y/N’s face. Just her profile. She wore a pale grey t-shirt and jeans underneath, not what she had worn to class today morning. Sam hated the fact that he noticed as well as remembered what she was wearing each day. He forced himself to look down and concentrate on the work at hand. He just had to phrase the concluding statements and it would be done. However, all the force that had been driving him for the past few hours seemed to disappear just like that. Try as he may, he got stuck on simple words. Soon he had read the same line five times. It didn’t help that he kept stealing glances at her.

This wasn’t like class, where he had so many eyes trained on him, where he was obligated to deliver a perfect lecture. No one was watching him now, which made it thousand times harder to keep his eyes off her.

She was busy working, completely unaware of his presence. Hadn’t she spent the past years like that? Completely unaware of what was happening with him. Anger burned bright and new within him. When he had read the brief about the Weather man case, he was already impressed before seeing who had written it. It had to be her! Sam had fought with himself over announcing her name in front of the whole class. But if it had been any other student, he’d have praised them, right? So he had to be fair and praise her, too. Never-mind that the words would burn on their way out. He had swallowed his feelings and done what was right.

Every little thing about her, may it be those cookies, or running into her in the corridors affected him to the point where it was all he could think about for the rest of the day. So had he been under the wrong impression all this time? Had he not moved on at all?

Y/N was still engrossed in her work, but as Sam looked closely, he soon realised that she was rubbing the nails of her hands against each other. Her feet were drawn up on the chair, under her legs and her shoulders were hunched. He squinted and could make out the slight shivering of her frame. She was cold.

He looked away. It wasn’t his problem. Y/N was hypersensitive to cold. She knew that very well, and made it a point to carry sweaters. If she was indeed that cold, she could just pull on one. 

Sam went back to his rejoinder, typing out two more sentences of the conclusion. However, his eyes kept flitting towards her, as she rubbed her hands. Y/N smiled at the people who came by, asking for books. By this point it wasn’t hard to see that her lips were quivering, maybe her teeth were chattering, too. There was no sweater nearby. 

There were so many reasons that stopped him from helping her. So many. And for all his anger and seething, all Sam wanted to do was go over and hug her so tight that she would stop shaking. He couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to do that anymore.

Sam’s fingers balled into fists in frustration and helplessness, nails digging into the flesh of his palms painfully.

Just then a girl came wandering over. She looked in her teens and Sam wondered what she was doing here. 

“Are you from the college?” Sam asked her, certain that he had never seen her before.

The girl gawked at him. “I’m seventeen, dude!”

Sam didn’t care what she was doing here, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. “Hey, if it’s not too much to ask, please could you help me with something?”

Reader’s POV:

It had been a slow morning  and an even slower afternoon. After Professor Mcleod’s class, the last one for the day ended, you decided to duck back to the apartment for a while. Madison asked you to hang out with her afterwards, but the thought of hanging out with Brad and the rest of that girl gang, didn’t appeal to you much. You had thought that you’d get over their raving about Sam, but the more you listened the harder it got. Neither could you say anything. You didn’t own Sam. So it was better to avoid them as much as you could for the sake of your own mental peace.

Since it was only two, you could actually catch some sleep before heading for the night shift which started at 6 pm and ended at 2 am. Usually everyone emptied out the library by then. You could clock in an extra hour if someone wanted to stay back. There was a Librarian’s room which you could use to catch your sleep, but from having worked two nights, you figured it was better to walk back home and grab a few hours in your own bed before classes. What was the point of living so close if you weren’t going to make the most of it?

The apartment building was too quiet and empty at this hour on a Tuesday. The only other people were Pam and Cas, both knocked out after the night shift. Even Kevin had to show up at work today. You contemplated whether to start reading for college but decided against it and headed to bed instead.

It turned out to be a bad idea, because given your track record of not waking up to the alarm lately, you slept on till the front door banged open. You sat up straight, disoriented. 

“Y/N?” Meg called, uncertainly. “You’re home?”

“Sure am,” you answered through a thick throat. Like an idiot you had fallen asleep in your morning clothes and were sweaty and icky now. 

Meg appeared at the door of your room. “Whoa, you’re sleeping! I thought you’d be at work.”

“Why would I be at work,” you said, sleepily, turning to the clock. “It’s only- 5:45! Shit!”

You jumped out of the bed and ran straight for the shower. 

“Doesn’t your shift start at 6?” Meg shouted from outside. She sounded amused and it only worked you up as you stripped at a super speed and got into the shower. The water was cold and it was all you could do to not yelp at the sting of it on your skin. Thankfully, Meg hadn’t stuck around in the living room, when five minutes later you made a beeline for your room wrapped in just one towel. At least you didn’t have to worry about what to wear this time. A pair of jeans and any top would do. On your way out, you grabbed your bag, laptop and keys.

“Meg, I’m so sorry I didn’t cook. I was just so tired, I fell asleep.”

Meg, who was filling her nails with what looked like a pen knife, gave you an incredulous look.

“Y/N, fuck dinner! I might just go out anyway,” she said, shaking her head. “You go go go!”

You muttered a thanks and then sprinted at full speed, coming to stop seven minutes later in front of the library.

Molly was fixing the slips for the day. 

“Molly, I’m so sorry- “

“Save it,” Molly waved her hand. “It’s just 6 o five.”

“Yeah okay,” you sat down, catching your breath.

“Hey listen,” Molly said, “There’s a few kinds from Palo Alto high school. They’re visiting with their teacher. That woman you see-” she pointed towards a middle aged woman who was breathing down a teenage boy's neck- “that’s her. The kids are well behaved, but they’ll stick around till dinner. You think you can manage?”

“Sure, I can do that!” 

“Good luck,” she gave you a thumbs up before leaving.

As had become your unwitting habit lately, the moment you were free of a conscious thought, your mind went to Sam. He had been so frequent to the library before- Molly had been clear about that- but since your joining, he had not shown up once. Maybe your face was still that repulsive to him.

Feeling dejected, you slid your bag under the table, plugged your laptop on charging and settled into the seat, ready to go through the night’s tasks. It didn’t take you longer than five minutes to figure out that you had left your sweater at home in all the hurry to get here. Suddenly, the conditioned air in the room felt ten times colder and you grabbed your arms, hugging yourself. Oh, this was going to be a terrible evening. You briefly contemplated calling Meg, then remembered that she might have gone out for dinner, and both Kevin and Jack were out. Even Pam and Cas would have returned to their night shifts by now. 

You would have to sit through this. 

The high school teacher came over and introduced herself, then pointed at the seven kids she had brought with her. You barely managed to listen to what she was saying though, trying your best to warm yourself by chaffing your hands against your arms. 

“Hey, you think you can grab a copy of Lord of the rings for me?” One of the kids asked, coming up to you.

You forced a smile. “I’ll have to check if we have that one. We d-don’t stock too much fiction here. You would find multiple editions of it in the Central Librar-ry th-though.” 

You typed in Tolkien in the catalogue. Somehow one copy was still there.

Shivering, you turned back to look at the boy. “We have t-two towers. If you’ll give me a minute, I can get it for you.”

Breathing in and out of your mouth, you walked to the shelf and retrieved the book for him.

“Here you go,” you said. “Be sure you h-hand it in b-before you go.”

Maybe you should call Meg anyway, you thought. There was no way you could get through the night like this with nails turning blue and your teeth chattering.

“Hey!”

One of the school girls was standing before you with a blank expression on her face. “Here.” She put down bunched up fabric in front of you.

Thoughtlessly you took it, unfolding it to realise that it was, in fact, a grey coat. The sort that was part of a three piece suit. You ran your fingers over the fabric. It was soft and expensive, but felt so warm.

“Put it on!” The girl said. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

You held up the coat. “W-Who gave this to you?”

“That dude sitting at the back,” she said. “He asked me to give this to you. That’s all I know.”

You twisted your torso to glance at the table the girl had pointed to. It was empty. 

Strange.

You put on the coat nevertheless, shivering violently as the fabric began to contain the body heat. Soon enough you stopped shaking completely, the warmth reminding you of happier, easier times. You walked around the corner to see who it was, but there was no one there. Shrugging you pulled the coat closer around, inhaling deeply. The scent of his cologne hit you like a ton of bricks. 

It couldn’t be.

You took a look at the coat again, remembering what Sam had been wearing in the morning. It was a grey suit- in fact, this very grey. Without thinking, you rushed back to the very end, looking for him, but he was most definitely gone, leaving you with his borrowed warmth. You sank in your chairs, tears blurring your vision. 

Sam was here… and he still cared.

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

A/N 2: Aaaaahhhh so what do y’all think??? I mean the reader will have to do something with the coat, right? Do you think it will finally make them talk? ;)

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[illyrian-lover-flower]

The chosen forest keeper 1

 Everything should have gone for the better after the war with Hybern. Everything should have turned out fine, but it didn’t.

_Feyre still had nightmares of Rhys dying in her arms. _

Nesta would have already fucked and drunken herself to death, if she still would have been human.

And Elain, sweet, gentle and seemingly happy, Elain -commited suicide.

_ Jumping off a cliff outside of Velaris into the depths of the dark sea. Offering her life as well as the pieces of the hearts of her family. _

Her dead body was never found, but a wittnesser who tried to stopp her, saw everything.

Never would have anyone guessed that a visit to the normally so rebelious tribes, years later changed everything.

__________________________________________________

                      The world is small, but forever is long  now,

                                             since you’re gone  

Death.

It always followed him.

Why would this time be an exception?

How could he go that far as to hope for an exception? An exception he hoped would be Elain Archeron - but she wasn’t.

Sweet Elain Archeron who was a bright light in the dark for all of them, a bright light that left and instead of the calming light - she left an uneasy twisting shadow behind.  

A shadow that was casted over every member of his family as they sat in the living room. The living room that suddenly turned too bright by the colourfulness of the flowers she left behind.

His throat went dry as the desert as he listened to the weeping sounds of his High Lady.  

The weeping sounds of a sister that just lost a part of her family.  

His brother sat close to his mate on the couch, an arm slung around her shaking back as she buried her palms in her wet eye sockets. The female he loved, her golden light not dimmed at all by the news, sat on the other side of their High Lady and rubbed calming circles on one of her shaking shoulders. Her gaze was worried as she took in her friend.  While Amren just sat in the back of the room.

Her arms crossed over her small chest and her gaze turned out off the window - to the colourful garden that now had no owner anymore.

Even her heart wasn’t left cold by the sweet seer. The seer who had struggles with her powers, but never made them look like as if they were that serious.

The seer who laughed with them. The seer who studied with them. The seer that simply made the day of her family with a soft laugh and sweetened it even up with a little baked good.

Her warm smiles the sunshine for all of them. Even for Amren - who seemed to have taken a liking to all of the three Archeron sisters.

The stranger on the couch opposite the one of Feyre, Rhys and Mor looked lost as he took in the view of his High Lady crying her eyes out, because of the news.  

The sad news he just brought upon them.

“… she jumped off a cliff near the borders of Velaris.”

As Azriel first entered the room - having returned exhausted from a two weeks mission- he didn’t know who they talked about, but as Feyre started crying and Rhys face paled with each second that past, a bad foreshowing already settled into his guts as he saw the flower grower nowhere near by.

His shadows curled restless through the whole house and garden, but could find her nowhere.

The steel cold look Amren gave him, as he entered the room, made him pale - but more of the realization her slowly shaking head brought with it.

The room went cold as he realized. As he realized why his High Lady cried almost as much as she did when Rhys died.  

But Rhys was back. Even though she still had nightmares about him dead - it were all just that.  

Nightmares.  

Rhys had come back to life.  

But Elain would not.

His heart lowered its speed to an almost cold and slow pace, his blood having probably all gone to his feet as he stood there in the archway of the living room, like a salt pillar. Refusing to sit down.

Never in his life did he wish to be clueless, but for now - for this once - he would gladly be.

Not having to know that he would have to tell his other brother, Cassian eventually about his dead friend.

The friend he would have welcomed like a little sister - with a bone crashing hug. But Elain would not stand in the entrance hall and welcome him with a big smile, no.

Elain was probably floating somewhere in the water of the ocean. Enjoying the freedom of this world with her dead body.

His heart dropped as he realized it. As he realized that not only would he have to tell Cassian, no - he would also be in the need to tell Nesta Archeron.  

Nesta Archeron who will either way burn them all for not taking care of her sister better, or who will let herself suffer even more than the last year.

Drinking up every little drop of alcohol that is hidden away in Windhaven.

Azriel didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help the tears in his eyes as he took in his family.  

Broken once again. Shattered hearts lying on the clean, white floor to their feet, trampled by some words. Words that turned everything upside down.

The male with the blue skin and the black hair lowered his head as he quietly said “I’m sorry for your lose.” and got up. Hurrying out of the house that was cloaked with sadness as a storm started to rage outside.  

The thunder trying to drown out Feyre’s sobs, but it was no use.

Feyre’s cries in the bright lit room, were the darkness to everyone. Cries that already once held a deathly message behind them.

But it were cries that everyone wanted to let lose, but didn’t dare.

Mor and Rhys trying to stay strong for Feyre, while Azriel and Amren simply refused to show how deep it affected both of them.  

The bobbing throats from both of them an evidence most people would have overseen, but not he and Elain.  

But now, since Elain was gone, it was only him to point out the signs of the helplessness of his family.

He hated himself for just standing there and watching them, he hated himself for locking eyes with Rhys, who just looked up for a moment from his mate, only to reveal the same sadness he tried to hide in alcohol when Feyre was about to get married to Tamlin.

Azriel knew why Rhys was affected so much by the death of the seer. He knew that she was like a second little sister to him. He knew that Rhys would make himself live in a personal hell for the next month's again. Blaming himself that he once again wasn't able to protect his little sister.

His heart sunk ones he saw the reflection of Amren in the window glass. The small female that sat on a chunky arm chair and looked stubbornly out into the dark. No one seemed to notice, that even the tiny female whipped away a tear in secret. Her glazy silver eyes piercing holes into the ground outside the window.  

Even Mor, who spent barely time with Elain -since she was out partying rather often-, had tears in her eyes as she comforted Feyre.  

As he took her in, he might have gone that far as to say to be happy, that the bright golden female wasn’t a close friend of the seer. Knowing that a breakdown of her would shatter his heart even more.  

No one knew how much time past as the sound of booming wings was heard over the loud thunder of the storm, Feyre’s loud weeping having ebbed down into quiet sobs.  

Azriel didn’t know where her body still got the strength to cry. After all, his struggled with even standing straight.  

“Guys?” yelled Cassian's booming voice into the house suddenly, the front door having been swung open with a lot of force. Just the same amount as it was closed with.  

The sounds of his wet boots made a splashing noise on the glassy white floor.

Shattering the silence into millions of tiny pieces around them.

Making now everyone realize that one of them had to draw the short straw and tell him and the fierce female back in Windhaven about the past away sister.

No one dared to move, as Cassian rounded the corner and stepped next to Azriel into the doorway, a bright smile on his face and looking like a wet dog as he approached them.  

The bun at the back of his head, as well as the lose strands of hair, clinging close to him. Dripping water down on the dry floor.

If it would have been any other moment Azriel might have had a sassy comment for his brother, but right now the shock sat too deep in him, that he could not even prevent his brother from asking, as he took in all of their dejected forms.

Cassian rose his brows at them.

“What? I’m flying for hours over here - from across that damn court- and yet no one of you has at least a little ��Hello you prick!’ or ‘If it isn’t our beloved commander showing up at the door!’ to say?”

He sighed and shook his head in frustration, shaking the water off and a bit on Azriel, but the shadowsinger was still too frozen as to wipe away the drops on his leathers.

Cassian eyed him curious, but left it be. He didn’t question why Feyre looked like as if she had cut a dozen of onions, only millimetres away from her face, too.  

The commander most often knew that it was better not to question why their High Lady was crying, no one of them was a good choice to comfort her anyway, expect  for Rhys and Mor.  

And they already comforted her, so it was better not to pry anymore about it, but for once Azriel wished he would have done it, as he took off happily into the house with a whistle on his lips.

“Well, at least my little Lainy will be happy to see me!” he shouted back at them as an accusation and a warning to Elain, that a bone crushing hug would be the death of her.

Azriel grew nauseous at the thought and as Feyre started to weep loudly again - it shook him out of his trance. And he decided for all of them to draw the short straw.

Cassian stood confused at the foot of the winged staircase as he listened to Feyre’s weeping. Azriel just gestured him to move to the kitchen, there they could sit and talk in peace, but he’d also be able to listen to his torture.

His High Lady, the younger sister of a lovely fawn, cried because of his uselessness. She cried, because he wasn’t able to protect Elain the way he should have. She cried, because he hadn't pointed out the signs right.

And now he needed to listen.  

It just pained him that his brothers had to do it too.

Even though Feyre’s cries were only muffled audible in the kitchen, they still could be heard.

But as he sat down with Cassian at the small table, near one of the large windows that showed the street down to Velaris, it might not have been the best idea of his life to have this talk there.

There, in the kitchen, where everything still smelled like her. Her and her baked goods, he could also almost hear her sweet laugh echoing off the wall as she once had a flour fight with Nuala and Cerridwen.  

If the pain wouldn’t have been rotten in his heart, he would have smiled at the picture in his head. Elain in a mint green, light gown covered in a white layer of dust, throwing flour at the twins - just as they did at her. Her laugh as well of the twins echoing off the walls.

But now it was silent.  

And for once did his comfortable companion unnerve him. The silence around him and his fiery brother so thick he could have cut it with Truth Teller.

As Azriel gathered all his courage to tell his brother, who looked around confused for the seer, who would have been normally in here if she wasn’t in the garden or with her family.

Cassian eyed him with a worried look as his gaze ripped away from the clean kitchen counters. Not even covered by the ingredients the twins would use for dinner, but Azriel knew that there would be no dinner - maybe not even breakfast tomorrow. He knew that the twins heard the news as well and by the deep bond they shared with sweet Elain, he knew that they were off somewhere too.

Drowning in their own sadness - just like the rest of them did.

Only Cassian wasn’t - he was still confused by the lack of laughter and the seer. But all of his confused attention focused on Azriel - as he heard him swallow hard.

“Ask your question.” was all the Spymaster could rasp out, his voice thick from trying to swallow his cries.

Cassian only nodded and asked in a  whispered voice, as to no wake any more demons by asking the wrong question. “Where is Elain?”

Azriel’s shoulders tensed.  

Damn him and his direct route! Damn him and his piercing eyes, that looked into every soul!

But as much as Azriel hated that about his brother - he was glad about it too. Not having to start the topic.  

Perhaps he should have turned his hate towards himself as he realized that he would take the direct route too. Not able to pamper the fall of his brother as he would hear the news.

He just swallowed again.

The toxic word on his tongue felt like a handful of belladonnas in his mouth.

“Dead.” he simply said. Trying to get the bitter taste, in the back of his throat, out somehow, but he wasn’t able to.

Not when he heard his own words with so less emotion in them.  

This one word that made Cassian sink back in his chair. A chuckle on his pale lips as his shaking hands grabbed for the table edge with such force it started to splinter.  

His voice was not even a whisper, barely audible even for Azriel, as silver lined his eyes.

“You’re joking!”

Azriel just looked down at the table. Not able to meet the eyes of his brother as he shook his head, the shadows that curled restless around for the whole day, settled around him like a cloak.

As if they now too realized what was going on.

Cassian started to growl, a sound that sounded more like a strangled last breath, as he tried to hide his sobs.  

The table cracked as he asked, “Wich Bastard did this to her?!” his voice louder than before.

And now the even harder part would begin. Azriel shook his head again, his ink black hair hanging like a short curtain in his eyes. Blocking his own burning eyes out of view. His eyes that wanted to spill tears; tears he wouldn’t allow him to cry.

At least not now.

“No one.” was all he could breathe out.  

The words made Cassian sink back in his chair even more.

Azriel knew that he could have stabbed his brother in his big heart, it would have hurt him less as to tell him the truth.

The unspoken venomous word hanging in the air, like a deathly fog.

Suicide

Cassian didn’t ask any more questions, his heart already shattered.  

Azriel knew, he too lost a little sister.

The spymaster almost left in quietness to his room, to let his brother cry without any shame, the last words he told him hopefully a little salvation.

“I will be the one to tell Nesta.”  

Cassian only chocked as Azriel vanished into the shadows and stepped into his room.

His dark room - that now more than ever - felt like the little cell, he was imprisoned in for years.  

The walls coming suddenly very close, making him feel like as if they squished his large body into a small package.  

A package that fell to the floor like a rock - into a deep black sea of shadows.

Everything came crushing down on him as he lay there. A broken heart in a pit of salt.  

Azriel cried as everything seemed to stop moving. Time not a thing to worry about anymore.  

He cried as he remembered.

He remembered how his last conversation went with her.

He remembered how he wanted to apologize, for his horrible gift and his pushy behaviour.  

Fucking four Months after Winter Solstice!

He remembered how her skin went pale as she unpacked the dagger, he gifted her.  

She still smiled at him and told him she loved it, even though he could foresee the lie miles away.  

He remembered how he wanted to push her into training.  

He remembered how her golden-brown eyes swelled with tears as she screamed at him ‘I thought you, of all people, would understand at least a little bit!’

What he never told her, was that he truly understood her, but thought that she would understand too, why she needed training.

But she didn’t.

And so, he left.  

Left her alone in her garden once again. For days, for weeks, for months.

Never apologizing for his behaviour.

Never giving her the other present he got her.  

But now it was too late, too late for him to apologize, too late to talk.

Now the only thing he could do was weep over the hole she left. A hole who he didn’t even knew who filled it.

He knew that Elain filled a hole in him, which he didn’t even know existed, but he never got to find out if it was a friend, a sister or someone else who filled it and winded it into the shape of a black hole.

Azriel knew that Rhys, Cass and Nesta had lost a little sister. While Feyre lost an older sister. Morrigan lost a stranger that was part of her family and Amren lost a friend, a friend that was her student in casting spells.

But Azriel didn’t know who he lost as he lay on the floor and cried. Tears he would never allow anyone to see, as he listened to the sob's downstairs.

He closed his eyes as he tried to take heavy breaths, breaths that felt like shattered glass in his lungs, as he tried to calm down.

His arms wrapped around him.

His shivering form covered in black in the pitch-black room.

His shadows a blanket that brought him a sleep full of nightmares, but also an answer.

Only a whisper in the back of his head.  

Lover.

                                                *******

The wind was unbending as she landed on the muddy forest floor.  

Setting the companion, she just carried here, down carefully.  

“Where are we?” asked her companion in the dark.  

The sky was even darker than usual, the storm having hung the sky with heavy black clouds.  

“Don’t worry my Goldenrod, we’re almost home.”  

A sweet sigh from the cloaked form beside her was heard, as she started to marsh over the clearing. The mud of the forest making her old boots heavy with the sticky earth.  

Thunder was heard in the far distance, yet her frightened companion rushed to her, as only moments later the next flash of a lightning tremored through the dark sky.  

Tinting the clearing for a short moment in a bright white light.  

The sound of thunder was heard again.

The young fae female, cloaked in a white cloak, rushed to her arm and clung to it.  

The Illyrian female only giggled, which was barely audible in the pouring of the rain, but she still heard it.

The female that saved her life two weeks ago, heard, and looked up at her with a wipe of her head.

Her white, with gold lined hood covered the piercing gaze she’d thrown at her now for the thousands time. Her dunning words, stumbled slowly over her chattering teeth as she wrapped the cloak closer.

“D-don’t l-laugh at me!”  

Every part of her petite body shivered from the cold. The wind whipping and howling around them, like a pack of wolves.

The rain having already seeped into their cold skin - thanks to the hour-long flight in the rain.

Both were cold, just was the Illyrian female used to ignoring it, while her innocent, white companion only knew the warmth of a hearth.  

Out of instinct did the taller female put a wing around her, as well as an arm as she practically dragged her companion over to the rim of the dark forest.

“Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”  

She repeated again.  

Her Goldenrod giggled. “You’re repeating yourself, Fersia.”

Fersia smiled down at her, of course her Goldenrod was the first to make her repeat herself again.

Of course, was this petite female the exception to the rule.

She would always be, after all she was the first to save her life.

And now she was the first Fersia would ever bring to her home.

She would also be the first one she would introduce to her Mother.

Fresia tugged her a little closer into her side as they entered the thick line of pine trees that led the way to her home.

She wanted to pick up her pace, but her Goldenrod stopped suddenly, looking worriedly back to the clearing instead, whispering to her in a hushed voice, “Did you hear that?”  

Fresia started to listen closer to her surroundings, but heard nothing over the thunder and the pouring rain. The forest was dangerous in the night, it was dangerous during day too, but most of all was it dangerous when it rained.

The fact that it was night and it rained made the whole situation only worse and Fersia just wanted to get home with her Goldenrod as soon and as save as possible, so she shook it off and started to walk again - dragging her white companion with her.

Fersia noticed that she kept looking back again from time to time, but kept continuing walking.

With little knowledge that her greatest danger had long approached.

___________________________________________________________

That was it so far :)

Second seed:  My shadows are demons, but so is my sunshine

Please tell me in the comments if you liked it or not. 

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[thiswasinevitableid]

for the winter prompt fills... 24, ot4, sfw? i just feel like indrid's snowflakes would be stupidly intricate and bespoke but stern is so much more likely to get annoyed by it than duck would be

Here you go!

24: i’m absentmindedly making snowflakes in class and you’re the nerd who can’t quit glaring at me every time you hear my scissors

Joseph always finds the first day of the semester tedious at best; he reads any syllabus he’s sent, then has to spend at minimum an hour listening to the professor go over it again. 

Thanks to the guy sitting two seats to his right, it’s now tedious AND aggravating. He’s tall, with dyed silver hair that he obviously did himself, his red glasses and worn, mostly black clothing suggesting someone who is in this class to fulfill a breadth requirement. That alone is not what aggravates him. It’s the fact the guy has been making paper snowflakes for the last forty five fucking minutes.

The snip snip snip is driving him up the wall. He knows people need to do different things to focus in class, but this is ridiculous. He glares every now and then, manages to keep his calm with the thought that the guy won’t be doing the same thing come Thursday. 

When he is, Joseph glares a little more and resigns himself to a minor headache twice a week for the next ten weeks. Could he move? Yes, technically. But he likes sitting up front, and he’s not going to let the scissors win.

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

“It’s ridiculous! His whole room must be covered in snowflakes by now, if he does this in every class.”

“Maybe he just does it in yours? You said that lecturer isn’t the most, uh, engaging.” Barclay pulls on his coat, waving to Mama through the window of the Lodge; he’s moved from waiter to line chef at the small restaurant, and Joseph is so proud of him.

“Maybe. I’m sorry, everything is just so...much. Last year was miserable and it’s not as if the change of the calendar makes things better. It feels like it takes the littlest thing to set off my anxiety.”

Barclay pauses their walk down the street, pulling Joseph’s hand to draw him into a hug, “I’m sorry babe. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thanks. Think I’m mostly in the mood for a distraction.” Barclay is warm and smells faintly of onion and butter, and while they should avoid causing a traffic jam on the sidewalk, he decides to stay like this a few seconds longer. 

“Good thing we’re having Duck and Indrid over for dinner tonight, then. I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet Indrid. He’s a weirdo, but he’s my kind of weirdo. Hope he’s yours too.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” They start back down the sidewalk towards the block of apartments where Barclay lives. Josephs met Duck a few times, usually at parties or group hangouts at the lodge. They bonded first over being in O-chem together, then over being trans, and now Joseph is always happy to see him when he walks into a party. He knows Duck is dating Barclay’s childhood friend, Indrid, but the other man having a semester abroad and working several jobs means Joseph hasn’t met him. 

He cleans off and sets the table while Barclay starts fried rice for dinner. Grabs the just-knocked door as Barclay plates things up, only to come face to face with snowflake guy. 

“Um”

“Hey Joe” Duck smiles at him from beside his silver-haired boyfriend, “this is Indrid. Indrid, this Joe. We ain’t too early, right?”

“No” he holds out a hand that Indrid shakes with a wide smile and an expression that indicates he has never seen Joseph before. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, both Duck and Barclay speak highly of you.”

“Likewise.”

Dinner goes well, once Joseph stops going in mental circles and makes the decision to not breathe a word of the fact Indrid is the mad snowflake maker. Indrid is a bit odd and awkward, but eager dives into a discussion of UFO sightings when Joseph offhandedly mentions them, and blushes charmingly whenever Duck kisses him. 

He also blushes when Barclay, in reply to a compliment about his cooking, says, “thanks, little moth.”

Joseph and Duck raise their eyebrows in sync. 

“Explain.” Joseph says with a smirk.

“It, uh, it was a nickname I gave him when we were kids. He’s always been smaller than me, and he was really, and I mean really, into moths.”

“That ain’t all that different from now.”  Duck loops an arm over Indrid’s shoulders. The taller man’s sweater hangs low around his neck, revealing at least two distinct moth tattoos. 

“I have a not always been smaller. I was taller in fourth grade.”

Barclay chuckles, “fair enough.” He sips his water and then adds, “little moth.”

Indrid chucks his napkin at him, laughing.

It’s such a nice evening that Joseph forgets all about the snowflakes. That is, until Indrid sits down directly next to him on Tuesday. 

“I thought I’d seen you before. What a coincidence.” Indrid takes out his notebook, spins a small ring on his finger, and smiles, “I’m glad we’ll have more chances to see each other.”

The tone feels almost flirtatious, but any appeal is instantly doused when he takes out scissors and a stenciled piece of paper. When he notices Joseph staring at the items, he cocks his head. 

“Would you like to try making a snowflake? It’s very soothing.”

“I, um-”

“I have spare scissors.” Indrid pulls out another pair.

What the hell, it’s a five hundred person lecture hall. No one will notice if two of the five hundred people are making snowflakes. He takes the scissors, and Indrid smiles brighter. 

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

It turns out the therapeutic nature of paper snowflakes isn’t the only suggestion Indrid has for him. Which is why Joseph is now in the campus rec center awaiting the start of a boxing class. Indrid said he might enjoy it, and Barclay encouraged him when he mentioned it. And he has been looking for ways to stay in shape. 

“Fancy seein you here.” Duck, in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts, sets his bag down next to Joseph.

“So that’s why Indrid recommended this in spite of never doing it himself.”

Duck snickers, “Yeah, ‘Drid’s happy with his hot yoga, he tried comin with me once last semester and was so sore he swore off bein my gym buddy forever.”

“How’d you get into this at all?” He takes out his handwraps, starts trying to put the left one on.

“Minerva put me onto it, said it was good to have some cardio along with weight-liftin. Need some help?” He indicates the wrap that has quickly gone off the rails. 

“Yes, please.” Joseph holds out his hand. Duck takes it, hold gentle but firm as he demonstrates the correct motions.

“Few different ways of doin’ it, this is the one Minerva taught me.”

“I see.” He does, and is able to replicate the pattern on his right hand, but he also sees why Indrid looks like a cat melting in the sun whenever Duck holds his hand. 

Before his brain can careen down that track of thoughts, the class starts and all his focus goes to learning the proper stance, practicing ones and twos, and trying not to pass out from exhaustion. He;s not out of shape by any means, but the instructor does not mess around. 

When they’re done and dismissed to stretch, Duck holds up a hand, “nice job, man.”

He’s down to his tank top, flushed and sweating as beams at Joseph. Suddenly, he feels like he could do a whole second class without breaking a sweat.

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

“All I’m gonna say is that if I pull a muscle doing this, you get to tell Mama why I can’t come in to work.” Barclay eyes the yoga mats suspiciously.

“I promise, we will start with an easy one. Besides, half the reason we’re doing this is because it can help with the sore muscles that come with repetitive physical work.” Indrid brings up a video on his laptop, then pats the empty mat next to his own. 

Barclay sits down, crossing his legs to mimic Indrid’s position. He’d brought up the idea of them doing yoga together on the nights Duck and Joseph are boxing as a joke at first. All it took was the excited look on Indrid’s face for him to turn it into a serious suggestion. He’s never been able to resist making Indrid happy. 

In many ways, his friendship eith Indrid was how Barclay learned that what he wanted to be, more than anything else, was comforting and safe to other people. His friend was skinny and awkward, at times downright skittish, but he’d dive under the covers and cuddle up next to Barclay in an instant. Even the hormones and awkward crushes of puberty couldn’t drive them apart. Barclay’s always attributed that to the fact he wasn’t attracted to Indrid when they were younger, nor Indrid to him. 

No, his massive crush on Indrid emerged their first year of college. But Barclay was too unsure for the first semester and too busy deciding to drop out to be a cook for the second one to make a move. Then fell hard for Duck, and Barclay fell for Joseph not long after, and it seemed like everything worked itself out. 

As he struggles to focus on the screen rather than his best friend’s ass, he realizes he spoke too soon.

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

“You’re not exclusive?” Joseph wipes his hands with a paper napkin. They’re grabbing a snack after their workout, the echoing Jamba Juice still preferable to eating out in the cold. 

Duck shakes his head, mouth busy sucking the straw of his smoothie and making Joseph wonder if his cheeks hollow that same way when he blows Indrid.

“I wasn’t when I met him, was still datin a girlfriend. We ain’t felt the need to change it. Both of us feel like, if we wanna be exclusive, or one of us wants to date someone else, we’ll talk about it case by case.” 

“That makes sense.” He feels the moment when all of Duck’s attention shifts to him. 

“What about you and Barclay?”

“We’ve never really talked about it.  I guess I...I’m happier with Barclay than I’ve ever been with anyone. If he wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn’t begrudge him that.”

“But would you be okay with it?” Duck’s drawl is softer now, and Joseph gets the sense he’s about to reach for his hand.

“I would. You’ve met him, the man has love to spare.”

“Comes with bein a big guy. Trust me, I’d know.” He winks at Joseph.

“Duck, you’re five’ six.”

“And built like a tank. Point is, you know what you want matters too, right Joe?”

What he wants? What he wants is to kiss Duck into the couch with Barclays arms around him while Indrid fucks the shorter man from behind. What he wants is to be with all of them. What he wants is too much.

“Right.”

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

“Indrid?”

“Yes, Barclay?”

“I hate you.”

A cackle rings out in the living room, Barclay unable to see it due to being in a pose that has them facing away from each other, “Nonsense, I’m your oldest friend.”

“Don’t care” he grunts as his leg twinges, “we’re getting a divorse. A friend divorce.”

“You wound me.”

Barclay growls, notices bare feet directly in his line of sight, “why are you-”

“Standing up like normal? Because the session ended while you were complaining.”

“Oh you little” Barclay pulls out of the pose, grabbing at the other man. Indrid hops back out of the way, only to trip over a shoe and fall onto his mat. He flips Barclay off with a grin, yelps when Barclay lunges forward and traps him with his body weight.

“Ooof, get off me, you menace.” Indrid laughs, shoving at him. 

“Nah, this is strength training. For you.”

“If you’re relying on my upper body strength to end this, I hope you understand we live on the floor now.”

“Uhhhhhh” Says a voice from the other side of the couch. Duck and Joseph are standing side by side in their gym clothes.

“I feel like we missed something.” Joseph, in spite of his pink cheeks, doesn’t look angry.

“Barclay is expressing his displeasure with this particular yoga sequence. Not that I mind.”  Indrid says from beneath him.

“Don’t seem in a hurry to get him off.”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, my sweet, no.”

He whips his head forward to stare down at Indrid. The other man smiles up at him, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I, uh, I-”

Indrid reaches up and strokes his beard, “Barclay, we’ve been friends a long time. I can spot when you have a crush on someone, myself included. I mentioned it to Duck a few weeks ago.”

“Which, uh, works out well on a couple levels.” Duck and Joseph step around the couch, holding hands, “assumin that’s okay with both of you.”

“You already know my feelings on the matter.” Indrid sends a far filthier grin Joseph’s way.

Barclay wants to jump for joy, but more than that he wants to be sure.

“Is this what you want, babe?”

Joseph nods, “If it’s not too much to ask.”

Barclay sits up, opening his arms and Joseph kneels into the hug, “No, babe, not at all. I love you, love Indrid too, and if he and Duck both wanna be with you, they’ll get no complaints from me, just a compliment as to their taste in men.”

His boyfriend nestles closer with a relieved sigh, Duck and Indrid settling on either side of Barclay. Joseph murmurs that they should make a chart to figure out the details of everything, and he agrees. But they can do that in a minute. Right now, the four of them can rest and enjoying being here. Together.