#although it's no surprise any kids they wind up having would be gorgeous

[jpriest85-blog]

After repeditly replaying the new @vendetta-if demo I made my MC Katerina in the Sims with her two childhood sweethearts/poly relationship, Ash and Rin.

I even decided to play around with the genetic features to see what a potential kid might look like. Considering Rin has the highest sex drive out of this trio, despite having such a seemingly cold and stoic personality, lbr it's only a matter of time Kitty will wind up pregnant when they're all living together.

Looks like randomizer gave them a son. Aww, what a little cutie pie! Think I'll call the kiddo Viktor since Kitty seems like the type of person who'd name her first son after her dad.

Oh wow, look at that hair! It's not surprising considering both Rin and Kitty got such gorgeous thick dark hair. Although I imagine Kitty probably suffered a lot of heartburn during her pregnancy for her son to be born with a full head of hair like that. Thankfully, between Rin's cooking and Ash making late night trips to 24 hr pharmacy, they'd make a good team to help Katerina both during the pregnancy and raising their little boy together.

Aww, it looks like little Viktor got a leather jacket to match with his Mama Ash. Tbh I could see little Viktor becoming a Mommy's Boy🤔. He does love his dad, and lbr Rin would probably try to live up to the example of his own father. It's just personality wise. Katerina is probably more similar to Takashi than Rin is. They're both tall, gregarious people, and much like her father in law I could see Kitty being very cuddly and affectionate with her children. Also, Ash rides a motorcycle, so that automatically makes her the cool mom. Although in retrospect it's funny, to imagine Rin's reaction when he realizes he fell in love, married, and had children with a woman whose personality is similar to his fathers 😂.

Oh my! Teenage Viktor becomes such a handsome young man! Again, it is not surprising, considering both sides of his family are filled with gorgeous people. Although I wonder if he'll grow up tall 🤔. I mean, Kitty is very tall, as are the rest of the Morozov family, and his paternal grandfather, Takashi, is also a pretty big guy as well. On the other hand, both Viktor Jr's grandmothers, Azami and Yevette, are very petite women, and Rin has a more compact build as well. Tbh, it could go either way with genetics, but it is a good chance he'll grow up taller than Rin by the time he's in his teens. Haven't even considered what kind of powers he might inherent, but it's a good chance he'll have dual abilities.

[munsontm]

sharing a kiss while sitting by a campfire. — from steve

@harringtontm & @musecraft : aka the thing I got halfway through last night and then accidentally exited out of it.

It'd been a long day, to say the least. The axis of the Harrington household had been shifted once again with the departure of its eldest son to a university in New York, from the west coast to the east coast. It was a long way, the furthest that Samuel Wayne Harrington had ever been alone, apart from that school trip to Nevada in tenth grade. But not much to Eddie's surprise, his kid was excited about the brand new chapter of his life unfolding, and so was Eddie. He'd always tried to encourage the goblins (kids) to be wild, live life to the fullest, etc., and they tended to listen---sometimes too well, in Sam's case.

This experience would be good for him; he knew it. Yet, while Eddie felt excited to see Sam going off and being independent, he knew all too well that an entirely different story was unraveling in his husband's head. One look at Steve said it all as he stood at security in LAX, looking on at his firstborn like a forlorn lover while Sam loaded his suitcases for scanning. Steve had hugged the boy for a good fifteen minutes before finally letting him go for good, then sent him off with a feigned smile.

Just a few hours prior, Eddie took Sam aside back at the house and informed him in an unusually firm manner that this was a big deal to Steve, which meant Sam became immediately obligated to be kind about the situation, no arguing, no whining. Fortunately, Sam had been in agreement and gave Steve the loving goodbye he deserved. Eddie loved the kid all the more for it, and held Steve's hand for the entire walk back to the car, and even got him his favourite frappuccino on the way home, which put a smile on his face for a while.

The sads returned instantly when Steve peered into Sam's old room. Eddie honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his husband like this. As far as he was concerned, Steve was a man made to have a smile on his handsome face. Grief didn't suit him. Pain looked wrong on him. It reminded Eddie of the post fallen King Steve days. And the Eddie from back then wouldn't have even considered he might see that look on Steve Harrington again one day because of their baby. It still sounded crazy even now, after nearly thirty years of being together. He needed to see his man smile.

It didn't take much convincing to cart Rian and Joan off to friends' houses for the night on a Friday, along with a hundred bucks each. They were truly his kids, swiping up the green and hightailing it out of the house as soon as dinner was over to do whatever teenagers did nowadays. Although their sudden disappearance dampened Steve's mood further, Eddie just kissed him on the cheek, thanked him for dinner, and asked him oh so sweetly to do the dishes while Eddie set up a surprise. Now that got his man's attention, and a tiny sparkle lit up Steve's eyes. God, he was still so gorgeous, the most perfect example of a man. Age had only made Steve Harrington more attractive, which did wonders for Eddie's half-broken dick, thanks drugs and alcohol. But he didn't have time to think about sexy things, maybe later.

Thirty minutes later, the fire pit out on the beach was lit, the pack of alcohol-free beer (super fun) was in a cooler, and Eddie had gotten every blanket he could find to keep them warm in the coastal wind where the large logs surrounding the pit might not do the job one hundred percent. The two of them cuddled beneath the soft pile, and Eddie joked that it was almost like being back in Chicago, back in that first shitty apartment they had together as dumb kids. Hearing Steve laugh and slide an arm around his shoulders in response was better than any Sabbath gig Eddie had witnessed. After that, they sat in comfortable silence, drinking their beers and admiring the star studded sky unpolluted by city lights. Looking up at the stars every night reminded Eddie of how lucky he was to have all he had, particularly the man beside him, their house, their kids, and their unconditional love. And when their eyes met beneath the stunning celestial display, Eddie saw that same sparkle he did every single day, so he had to kiss Steve. It wasn't anything special; it didn't need to be. The sweet and soft embrace spoke volumes between them. Every kiss they shared was special.

"I know you're hurting right now, baby." He began once they parted, pecking the tip of Steve's nose as a breeze ruffled his long curls. "But try to think of it as a new chapter in our lives too. In four years, Riri will be going to college, Jojo in five. And then it's back to just you and me again. That ain't so bad, right? Just you and me." An affectionate smile curved at Eddie's lips; he tilted his head to lean on the log. "Remember our plans in our twenties to travel all over Europe? They won't need to be just dreams soon. We could do it, you and me. As cliche as it sounds, I can't think of anything better than waking up next to you one morning in some hotel on the Riviera, butt naked, without any mouths to feed but our own. I think that'd be heaven, Stevie." He kissed his husband again, making a content sound against his lips, hoping that those old desires of once younger men still ignited Steve's fire. Their love had defeated much opposition over the past twenty plus years, and this new beginning would too, submit to them in time for they were undefeatable.

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Puppy Love - Uncle Eldis Pt. II

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - i see y'all in the comments :)

Prompt: Ever since you and Elvis watched your friend's kids, you've been trying to get pregnant. It's not working out and you're feeling pretty down but Elvis has a surprise for you. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None!

Rating: Pg, v soft   ||     Word Count: 2042

A/N: not me accidentally posting this before i edited it 💀 im driving to cincinnati right now for a baseball game and just edited this in the car on 4 hours of sleep. send help y'all

Read part one here!

🦋 mila

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You lean against the car window, letting your eyes trail along the passing landscape. The green and yellow waves of grass are blotted with black and brown cows, grazing lazily in the hot Tennessee summer heat. You smile sadly as you pass a small farm and see a young family in front, a beautiful woman chasing around a small child. It's a lovely picture and one that you desperately crave for yourself.

Ever since you'd babysat for your friend's kids, you and Elvis have been trying to conceive. You've both been trying so, so hard. The sex is always enjoyable, of course, but it's not achieving the result you want: a baby. Eleven months of making love and taking pregnancy tests only for them to come out negative is starting to take its toll on you. You know that it can take time, but you're slowly losing faith. You just want so badly to be a mother.

"Ya aright, hunny?"

You feel Elvis' warm hand on your thigh and glance over your shoulder at him, offering a small but weak smile.

“Yeah, baby. Just…thinking is all,” you respond, not feeling up to hashing over your feelings again.

“Bout the baby?” Elvis asks and you cringe. You bite your lip to keep your eyes from watering and nod.

“It seems like I’m always thinking about that nowadays."

"It's gonna happen for us, baby. I know it will. Maybe we could...see a doctor or somethin. Maybe there's somethin we can do," he suggests.

Although you appreciate his effort, that's exactly what you're afraid of. You're terrified of the idea that something could be wrong with you, that you would need surgery or some kind of operation to fix you. You're terrified of discovering that you could never have children.

"Maybe," you reply quietly, shifting your eyes back to the window to watch as trees and barns flash alongside the car. "I'm just getting so impatient, you know? I just...I want that baby right now. And I know we're ready for it so why isn't it happening."

Elvis says nothing but reaches over to squeeze your hand. You sigh in response, closing your eyes to try and get some semblance of inner peace as your husband drives along the bumpy and winding country roads.

All of a sudden, you feel the car jerk to the left and start to roll down a long country dirt road. You snap to attention, sitting up and turning to face Elvis.

"Elvis, what's going in? This isn't the way home."

"I know, but don't you worry ya pretty lil head bout it. I'm takin you on an adventure."

A soft smile breaks across your face and you settle back into your seat. Your eyes return to the window to watch for any familiar signs. You're grateful, actually, to have something to think about other than your emotions. If there is one thing Elvis is skilled at other than singing, it's surprises. They almost always improve your mood and they're usually a lot of fun. You're completely alert now with the challenge of trying to guess what he's cooked up this time.

The sun is at its most golden angle, casting a gorgeous orange glow across the fields and farmlands that you whizz by in Elvis' flashy purple Cadillac. You must look lost with an outrageous and expensive car like that zooming through these desolate areas.

Your eyebrow quirks in curiosity as Elvis pulls up to what looks like a nice little country home. There are animals everywhere, every kind of animal you might associate with a farm. There's a big field to the left with a few brown horses swishing their tails in the air, white and black speckled cows grazing, and some chickens gathered around a bright red coup. You even catch a dog or two sprinting around the front yard, a couple of small kids chasing them around. An elderly couple are sitting on a large wraparound white porch in a couple of wooden rocking chairs. You smile at the couple as Elvis pulls into a makeshift parking spot on the gravel drive and turns the car off.

"Aright this is it," is all Elvis says before hopping out of the car and rushing around to your side.

You pop open your door and he takes it from your grasp. You climb out of the car with a confused expression resting on your face. Maybe you're here to visit some of the animals? Buy some country products like jams or eggs or veggies or something?

"What are we doing here, Elvis?" you ask. He neglects to respond and, instead, takes your hand and leads up toward the porch where the older couple are rocking slowly.

"Hi there," Elvis shouts, waving a hand at the couple. They both smile in return, the woman standing up to come and assist you.

"Welcome to Beverly Farms," she says in a voice that's deep and strong despite her old age. "What can I help y'all with today?"

You glance over at Elvis and squeeze his hand to tell him that you would like to know the answer to that question as well.

"We'd like to look at ya pups, please?" Elvis responds, gazing over at you with a toothy grin.

A big smile starts to spread across your face as you stare up into his beautiful bright blue eyes, which are extra sparkly in the gorgeous lighting. In that simple moment, you remember why you're so incredibly in love with this man.

"Alrighty, jus follow me back this way," the woman, perhaps Beverly herself, gestures toward the back of the house and begins to walk down a skinny dirty path.

As you walk around the home, you latch your hand onto Elvis' arm and pull him close to you. He leans over to press a soft kiss to your head, and you pull his fingers to your lips.

"We got a few different breeds right now, mostly retrievers and labs but a few mutts we ain't sure bout. We're runnin at about $100 per dog, without vaccinations or fixin or nothin like that. We got em separated, boys over here and girls over there."

She gestures to two pens, one pink and one blue.

"Feel free to get in there and play with em. Jus don't take any puppies our cause we don't want em escapin," she explains with a smile. "Let me know if there's anythin I can help y'all fine folks with or if ya decide on a pup you wanna take home with ya."

You smile, nod, and thank her. She turns to trudge back to the porch, leaving you and Elvis alone with the puppies.

You shoot Elvis a hug grin before rushing over to the pink pen holding the female puppies. There are a few sleeping in the shade, nestled into the grass and mud inside the pen. A few others are excitedly jumping at the wire, trying to get your attention with their tails wagging furiously. You smile and crouch down to stick your fingers through the wire and boop their tiny black snoots. Their soft golden and brown fur curls around their eyes and ears. Their puppy breath burns your nostrils, but you wouldn't change anything about them.

Elvis crouches down next to you, placing one hand on your back and the other over the top of the pen to pet some of the puppies.

"Decided on a girl, didja?" he asks and you nod.

"Girls are easier to take care of. And they're cuter," you joke before standing up and swinging your legs over the side of the pen.

As soon as you're standing inside of it, a swarm of puppies attack your legs, trying to climb up your jeans. You giggle as you reach down to pet them all. Elvis follows your lead and immediately picks up a tiny brown puppy. He lifts her up toward you, his hand circling around to support her tummy. The puppy's legs flail through the air as she tries to wiggle around to lick Elvis' face. He chuckles and sticks his lips out for a kiss. The dog’s hot pink tongue darts out, leaving nasty saliva streams everywhere. You laugh and shake your head. 

“She’s very cute but a little too excited, I think. What about this one?” you suggest, quickly bending over to lift up a little copper-colored pup with the same fur.

You rest your face against her body, hearing her poor little heartbeat racing a million miles a minute. She barely even reacts to you snatching her up to hold her in your arms.

“Nah, she’s too calm. We need an in-between dog.”

"Thank you Goldilocks," you laugh.

You feel a little overwhelmed as you try and parse through all of the fur and eyes and noses that are staring up at you. Just as you're about to reach down to pick up another puppy, you hear Elvis yelp. You whirl your head around to see that he's fallen on the ground into the mud.

He's leaning back on his elbows, getting attacked by a horde of puppies. They're running on top of his chest, under his legs, into his armpits. He's desperately trying to fight them off but isn't very successful since he's laughing so hard. You giggle at the adorable sight of your handsome husband wrestling a bunch of puppies. You briefly allow yourself to imagine that they're not puppies but children. When you sense a familiar sadness in your chest, you banish the thought. One puppy, in particular, climbs onto Elvis' chest and just lays down, her little tail swishing frantically back and forth.

“Oh! That is sooo cute,” you shout, gesturing at the puppy. “That’s the one.”

You run over to Elvis, lifting the puppy from his chest and holding her under your armpit as you use your other hand to help Elvis up. He lets a few final laughs escape his lips as he stands. He leans down to examine the puppy, holding her tiny paws in his fingers and pressing his nose to hers. She licks his skin and barks. Elvis chuckles again.

"Yeah, she's the one," Elvis agrees as he reaches to brush some mud from her little wet black nose. Her tongue immediately darts out to follow his fingers. "What should we name her?"

"How about Goldie? It matches her fur and she is our little Goldilocks puppy," you suggest and your husband's eyes light up.

He reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek, gazing into your eyes with an overwhelming sense of compassion and love. You can't help but smile and lean into his touch.

"Goldie it is. Let's go make it official so we can take her to her brand new home."

You follow him back around to the front of the house, nuzzling your face into Goldie's soft fur. You get all of the official documents signed and even purchase a small pink collar and a few toys that the Beverlys are selling. You clutch tightly onto the newest addition to the Presley family and climb into the car. You let Goldie rest on your lap and she curls up into a ball, falling asleep almost immediately. You stare down at her, already totally and completely in love, as Elvis starts the car and pulls out of the gravel drive. Your fingers gently stroke the fur on her head.

"I know this ain't exactly what ya asked for," Elvis says with a little shrug. "It ain't a baby, I mean. But while we're tryna work through whatever's wrong, I figured maybe this'd be a close second?"

You smile sweetly at him, reaching to grasp his fingers.

“She's perfect, Elvis. Thank you baby.”

He glances over at you with a handsome smile, squeezing your fingers before refocusing on the road. A few moments of silence pass before you speak up.

“I do still want a baby, though.”

“I want that too, darlin,” he agreed. “Oh no, I guess we’ll just hafta try again when we get home.”

He looks over at you and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh quietly, being careful not to wake the sleeping puppy in your lap.

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[robobarbie]

How would the LIs (+ onion hehe) act with an mc with a kid from a previous relationship? How would they feel about/treat the kid?

Quest would quite literally die for your child. The moment he sees them, he kneels down, introduces himself, and befriends them. Before you live together, your kid insists on calling quest every day to say hello and you love listening in to their silly phone calls. When quest visits, your heart melts when you walk in on them both sleeping on the couch with a pixar movie left playing in the background. If your kid scrapes their knee with quest around, quest quickly scoops them up and helps them clean up, joking with them to distract them the whole time. At some point, you learn that your child reminds quest of his little brother, a long time ago. It makes you happy and sad all at once.

Nakedtoaster is hesitant. Theyve never been really good with kids. Sort of awkward. But they try, of course, for you. They tend to just treat your kid like a small adult, seriously discussing their childish hobbies, gossping about their classmates, and cocking an eyebrow if they ever talk back to you. If your kid likes gaming, toasty will buy them every console known to man and show them the ropes on how to use them. When toasty visits, you'll often find them both up past 2am quietly playing together. If toasty notices you watching, he'll offer to take the three of you out for some late night munchies -- which always makes your kid cheer.

Xyx accepts that you have a kid right away. Everyone has a past, of course. Hes a charmer with the kid, teasing them and laughing with them and getting them to ride on his shoulders. Your kid will want to spend more time with xyx than you after a while, which makes you a little upset. You cant blame them, though -- xyx is one of the best uncle-types to have around. When xyx catches wind of this, he immediately has a genuine conversation with your child (that you never find out about) where he gently explains how important it is to show your parent that you love them. Your kid starts bringing surprise flowers to you from their walks home after school because of that, which makes you tear up and makes xyx smile.

Nightowl is... well, he's doing his best. He definitely didnt expect to fill any sort of father role at this age, and despite your best efforts to assure him you dont expect him to, hes a little unsure of himself. He resents how he was raised, and hes worried that could bleed over accidentally to your little one. But as he slowly opens up and hangs with your kid, you see his goofy, relaxed self come out and soon hes spending hours building architectural feats with them out of legos. One day he babysits for you and after you pick them up, he stops you before you go back to the car and gives you a giant hug. Over his shoulder, you see more lego creations, scribbles of crayon on paper, and oragami figures littering the floor. You pat his back and smile.

-----

Onion is immediately accepting. He knows how to handle kids and, although hes not the jokiest, your kid IMMEDIATELY trusts him and latches onto him, no matter how brusque he can be. They start to sort of mimic onion too, wanting to buy clothes like his or wanting to get glasses suddenly. After onion meets your kid, and especially after he sees you do anything with your kid (like tuck them in to sleep or cook them dinner) he pulls you in when you are alone to call you perfect and gorgeous and pepper you with kisses. The quickest way to this mans heart is domesticity after all, and watching you with your kid makes him fall harder for you each day.

[dinbuckyenthusiasts]

Travelling with Din Djarin HCs

It’s almost like you’re always travelling with him because of how much you move around (bounties, work, you know the drill)

But for you two, and the kid as well, ‘travelling’ is much different than just going around for work’s sake

As much as he loves his job, Din finds little to no enjoyment visiting different planets just for his work, especially since the planets are generally pretty dangerous and there’s not much for you and Grogu to do, meaning you guys usually just stay on the ship until Din gets back

He certainly doesn’t view it as travelling, because he’d much rather do it all with you and to him, to travel is to actually enjoy your experience, rather than to have a one track mind and set goal: get the bounty

You and Din wouldn’t really plan it beforehand, he do it himself and surprise you. He would negotiate with Karga to take time off work for a while even if it meant he would have to take on extra bounties afterwards or beforehand

If you ask, he tells you you’re going to Tatooine or some planet that never is really that exciting, and then when you arrive he would lower the ramp and show you

And if this man thought he couldn’t fall for you any further

He was wrong

Because the way he SWOONS at the sight of your face lighting up...he's head over heels

He would let you pack some bags and whatever else you need for a couple days (you would probably stay for like…4-7 days? It really depends on Din's schedule but I'm sure you could convince him to change the plans a bit if you wanted)

And then you would be off. None of you want to waste time

While travelling, Din would want to take it all the way since you guys don't get to vacation often. He would probably include a hotel (or just plain camping depending on the planet and how many credits you guys have). You wouldn’t be spending much time in the Crest, probably none at all honestly

Din doesn't really have a preference for either hot or cold planets. For him, as long as the climate isn’t extreme (like Tatooine or Hoth for example) he would be satisfied. He would probably enjoy Naboo, maybe even Sorgan or Endor. He definitely likes anywhere with lots of greenery, it’s a peaceful break from the general harshness of the planets and life he’s used to

I was also considering Coruscant but that might be stretching it, just because of how busy it can be, even if it is a gorgeous planet. Something isolated and quiet would be best for him. Privacy is something he needs in order to actually wind down so he doesn’t have to worry about the safety of you and the kid (although, when is he not worried about that?)

He prefers quiet planets not only because of safety, but if he's started taking the helmet off around you, he would most likely want to remove it at times during the trip as well

Another reason he wants to go somewhere green is because he knows Grogu will enjoy it. And if there’s a lot of water there, like lakes or rivers? That’s even better (frogs of course). That’s sort of why I feel like Naboo or Sorgan would be perfect

But Grogu making friends with the Ewoks on Endor would be so adorable as well...anyway

While there, I think it would just be a whole lot of exploring. He would leave it to you to decide where you want to go and what you want to see

Din is more than fine with whatever you decide but I also think that at some point during your trip, he would want to go see the architecture and nature of the planet. He finds culture in architecture and he absolutely adores seeing the uniqueness of it all, especially since every planet is so different

I know this is a bit basic, but the three of you would go on walks. Just sort of wander with no real destination and see where it leads you. That's probably how you guys discover most of the planet, rather than using a map or guide

I can also imagine having a picnic with him and the kid. The whole Anakin and Padmé scene in AOTC? That exact scenery

Even if he doesn't really eat because...well...the helmet situation, you would still enjoy each other's company and just chat. He would be happy enough to just know you're enjoying yourself. The smile on your face makes him happier than any meal could

The different food (if there is different food depending on the planet...I'm honestly not sure) would be so fun to try out

And if there were any festivals (I'm assuming most planets have different traditions) during the time you visit, there would be no hesitation in attending them. Once again with the whole culture thought, Din would LOVE stuff like that

Finally, although Din really would want to experience as much as possible, his main goal wouldn't be that. It would be that you leave feeling better and much more refreshed than when you arrived

And after your visit, he would realize how nice it actually was. He might even find himself craving that same domesticity and relaxation at the oddest times

He knows how good it was for you and the kid. If you asked, he wouldn't even hesitate going to Karga and asking him for more time off work. If you wanted to go back to whatever planet you went to, he would take you there. However, he'd be open to new suggestions as well (as long as it's safe) and would go wherever you wanted

[crybabyalexxx]

The One Where Peter Parker Is A Sub

Sub!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: The reader finds out that Peter is a sub and she loves every second of it. What could go wrong with a little teasing?

Warnings: submissive peter parker, dom reader, smut of course, BOTH ARE 18+, sex in school, unsafe sex (wrap before you tap)

A/N: I haven't written fanfic in a good MINUTE so I'm so sorry if it's not as good. And I also have never written a peterXreader, yup first timer over here. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Word Count: 2k

When you first met Peter Parker, he was a shy and awkward kid. He only really has one friend, Ned, and they were basically inseparable. You and Peter both had English class together and he drew you in like a moth to a flame. It was the little things he did, like the way his eyebrows would rise when he was suddenly called on when he was surprised. The small smile he would make when he got an answer right, then a lightbulb went off in your head.

Peter Parker is a sub.

Of course, you were more than eager to test your little theory, but in order to do that, you had to actually talk to the kid. So you did what any reasonable teenage girl would do, you talked to him. After a few weeks of small talk and occasional flirting, Peter was stuck to you like glue. It was as if you were the missing puzzle piece for the duo. Ned and Peter adored you and couldn't believe a person like you would want to actually hang out with them, you weren't shy at all. You stood up for people in need, you stood up for them. You were quick with your comebacks, you were extremely funny and nerdy. Not to mention extremely sassy, god you were so sassy and Peter felt intoxicated every time he was with you.

Peter wondered if Ned felt this way with you too if everyone felt this way when they were with you. He wouldn't blame them if they did, but he felt a pang of jealousy every time he thought about other people liking you the way he did. How could he not like you? You were stunning. The way you carried yourself was one of the things he loved most. Like everyone else in school, he couldn't stop looking at you when you first walked into the classroom. Not only because you were absolutely gorgeous but because his spidey senses went crazy the second he saw you. He didn't understand why at first. Maybe it was just a fluke, but then after a few weeks, he noticed it would happen every single time he saw you. It's not like he was complaining though. He had the hardest time focusing when you were in class together though.

He could feel your eyes on him every time, and when his eyes would meet yours you wouldn't look away, you'd just smile and he would blush. He blushed so much with you and you loved it. It was small things that would make the brown-haired boy blush. Like when you’d complement his outfits and the way his biceps look bigger when he wore his blue button-up shirt.

Then there was the touching. Peter thought he would pass out every time you touched him. It started out small, placing your hand on his arm when you would laugh at something he said. Or how you would play with his hair when he'd put his head down while studying. Then he noticed how you would touch him in other places that got his heart racing. You would brush your fingers against his, or when you whispered to him you were lingering a little longer and he could feel your lips brush against his ear. Just that would make his head spin. He didn't know if you knew what you did to him or if you were completely oblivious. He sometimes wishes you would do more though. He would imagine what it would be like to finally have you, to feel your lips against his, your hips flushed against his. The way you’d moan his name. Peter would often get carried away with his thoughts about you, and he didn't care. He was drunk on you and he loved it.

“Hey, Peter?” Peter was lost in his thoughts again and you hated to interrupt him in his thoughts because he looked so cute to you.

Peter jumped slightly, not realizing you had sat beside him. “Oh um, hey y/n! Didn't realize you'd be here so soon.” Peter was slightly flustered from the thought he had of you seconds before you showed.

You noticed the way his blush was slowly making its way down his neck and chest, and how his pupils were blown, and how he was breathing a little harder. He’s horny.

You giggled softly and decided to have a little fun with him today. “Well, i could leave if you'd like and come back-”

“No! I mean, not that’s okay you're here and we should erm, I mean I don't want you to leave.” Peter couldn't seem to stop rambling, and you saw how much the poor boy needed help, and you couldn't just sit there and not help someone in need.

You grabbed Peter's face with both your hands and leaned in close. Peter felt like the entire room froze. He looked down to your lips and prayed that you would kiss him right now because he's been dreaming of it. And you almost did until you heard him whimper, and all you could do was smile.

“Peter Parker, did you just…” you leaned in to whisper into his ear, your lips brushing his ear, “whimper?” You could feel his breath fan against your neck and shoulder. You leaned away from him to find him with his eyes closed and lips parted. When he finally opened his eyes he found you smiling at him. His eyes went wide as he realized what had just happened. “Y/N I am so sorry I don't know what I was thinking!” Before Peter could continue, you stood up and pulled him with you. “Follow me, Parker.”

You pulled Peter out of the library and into an empty classroom. You were glad that school was out and there was practically no one in the halls, which meant you wanted Peter to scream for you. You locked the door as soon as Peter walked in and covered the window just in case anyone decided to pass by.

Peter could feel the hairs on his stand-up straight, he was breathing hard and he could feel the blood rush down and his pants get tighter. He heard the door lock and turned to see you staring back at him. His spidey senses were going off like crazy, and although he knew he wasn't in any type of danger he still felt like prey.

You pushed him into the chair behind the teacher's desk and straddled his hips. “Tell me to stop and I will. Do you want me to stop?” You slowly grind down on him, feeling him grow from beneath you.

Peter’s head was dizzy and he wanted nothing more than for you to continue with what you were doing. His head rolled back when you ground down against him again, his hands flew to your ass to feel the roll of your hips. “Please don’t stop.” He swore this is what heaven felt like.

That was all you needed to hear. You continue to grind down as you start to kiss him. You'd imagine how it would feel to kiss Peter, but you never imagined them to be this soft. If it weren't for the fact that you were in a classroom right now, you would kiss him for hours. You had to pull yourself away from him if you wanted this to go any further.

“Take your clothes off, pretty boy.” Peter seemed to be eager because, by the time you were down to your underwear, Peter was already naked in front of you. The little smirk you gave him made him blush and you moved closer to him.

“I could stare at you all day, but I really want to taste you right now.” You pushed him back down on the chair as you got on your knees. You couldn't believe how massive he was, but you always did love a challenge.

Peter could feel himself grow, the way you were looking at him had him shaking in seconds. He just wanted you to touch him already. The worst part is that his senses were going crazy. He could hear how fast your heart was beating, he could still taste your lips from moments earlier. He could smell you, you must have been soaking and all he wanted to do was please you and let you do whatever you wanted. He just needed you to touch him already.

“Y/N, please.” Peter sounded like a wreck and that is exactly how you wanted him.

“Please what? Use your words, pretty boy.” A little teasing never hurt anybody.

“Please just touch me already! Anything just please I-” Peter’s head fell back as your mouth and tongue finally touched his aching red tip. The way you were sucking and licking was nothing he has ever felt before.

You could feel him shake as you continued to suck his tip. You noticed how tense he seemed as if he was holding himself back. You decided to push a little bit more of him inside your mouth. This seemed to knock the wind out of him because he came leaning forward as if someone punched him. You looked up at him as innocently as possible and couldn't help the moan that came out of you.

Peter swore you were trying to kill him, then when you moaned his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he thought he saw stars. Peter could feel the way your tongue moved against him, the way it was pressed against that certain vein. The way your moaning sent vibrations and he didn't think it could get better than that.

The way Peter was gripping the chair made you weak in the knees. If you weren't already on your knees, they would have given out. You looked up at him and couldn't resist the urge to run your hands up his abs and play with his nipples, you felt him twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N I'm- ung- close!” Peter could feel himself get closer to his release and god he wanted it. “Please ride me, please y/n.” Peter could feel the way you smirked with your lips wrapped around him.

“How can I say no to that?” You get up and gently slide him inside you. You both moan as he stretches you. As you start to slowly ride him, you decide to hide his moans by kissing him. Peter wanted to stay inside you forever.

You wrap your fingers around his throat and he gasps. As you ride him you lean closer to his ear and whisper, “fuck me, Parker.”

Peter let out a low growl and wrapped his arms around you as he pounded into you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand suddenly aware that you were in school.

“Peter, I'm coming,” you whisper to him. And as soon as he heard those words Peter was coming inside you, igniting your own orgasm.

You and Peter help each other ride out your orgasms and stay there for a couple more seconds. The two of you finally decide to get dressed.

“So, is this like...a one-time thing?” Peter dreaded the question, but he had to ask.

“Do you want it to be?” You look at Peter and you could see the panic in his eyes.

“No! I mean, no. I really want to do this again. And then maybe some more after that...please.” Peter could feel his blush creeping up on him, especially with that smile you're giving him.

“Don’t worry Spidey, I want to keep doing this too.” You giggle softly to yourself. He’s the cutest.

“Okay good because- wait, did you call me spidey?”

“You aren't so good at keeping secrets from me Parker.” And with that, you walk out of the room with Peter hot on your heels.

[hiddles-and-skittles]

Ride

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,585

Summary: Gatherings can't be that bad, right? Especially if your boyfriend convinces you to ditch early for a ride home on his motorcycle. It's just unfortunate he's gotta rile you up beforehand.. .

Warnings: 18+, kinda masturbation/edging by motorcycle???, teasing, pet names; sweetheart, doll, cocky Bucky (what? He's definitely a warning)

Notes: This idea came to me and I absolutely could NOT put it down. I don't typically write smut or anything along those lines, so any feedback is appreciated! This is way out of my comfort zone😅

____________

"Come on, Sam is waiting on us."

You roll your eyes and dramatically throw yourself back on the bed. "Yeah well, Sam can wait. I don't even want to be there."

"And you think I do?" He calls to you, pulling on his gloves and nearly stomping back towards your room.

"Bucky, I don't want to go." He stands in your doorway and you pout at him, making him sigh.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "I know. But who says we gotta stay all night?" At this, you raise up from your mopey position. "We make an appearance, talk to Sam for a little while, then get lost in the crowd and disappear. He won't even notice."

You hum thoughtfully. "Good point." You swing your legs over the bed and slip into your Converse shoes, plastering a smile to your face and gleefully skipping due to the fact you'll get to leave early.

Sam was having a reunion party with some buddies from his Afghanistan tours. It was a huge event downtown, but neither you nor Bucky was a big fan of crowds. So the two of you only considered going in support of Sam.

Bucky stopped on the apartment complex's steps, narrowing his eyes at an empty parking spot. "He took my bike."

You snorted. "Cab it is."

________

Shortly you arrive at the event and he opens the cab door for you, his knuckles grazing down your arm to catch your hand in his. The action sends a shudder through your body and he smirks, stopping to give you a scheming look.

"What?" you ask him, furrowing your eyebrows and squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," he simpers.

You decide to be suspicious of him for the rest of the evening.

There are a plethora of people but you both advance through the crowd in search of Sam, Bucky stopping you to point out that Sam is quite preoccupied. He nudges you towards the most empty table he can find so you can sit down. On either side of you both is an empty seat, and the rest of the chairs are filled by half-drunk, burly men sporting drinks.

One of them turns to you and introduces himself and his comrades. A few of them take quick note of Bucky's name, quoting something Sam has mentioned about him before then thanking Bucky for his service. You wrap your arm around his middle and look up at him with pride, nuzzling yourself closer to your soldier.

You're both quiet as the vets around you continue their chatter about their best times, their laughter making the atmosphere light. You have to admit, you might actually be enjoying yourself. You're lost in a story about a guy teaching his kid how to hot wire a car when a hand squeezes your thigh.

Your knee immediately jerks and hits the table and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a yelp. A few heads turn in your direction and as you feel the warmth spreading to your face, you feign a sneeze, apologizing for the interruption. Bucky remains dead panned, although the sides of his mouth subtly quirk up. You glare at him. "Bless you, sweetheart," he patronizes. You shift uncomfortably as the men return to their conversations.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh and you inhale sharply through your nose. "Bucky," you whimper, swallowing hard.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, doll, or I'll stop," he tuts lowly. Instinctively you spread your legs a little to make enough room for his hand. Your breath hitches as he circles your clit with his middle finger, lightly tracing down your clothed mound. You curse yourself for wearing jeans, because the thickness of the denim heavily affects the way he feels against you.

But you want more.

He presses harder until Sam struts over to the table, and Bucky innocuously throws his arm around your shoulder. You huff in frustration and he chuckles.

"Surprised you two haven't left yet," Sam laughs, sipping a beer and slapping a hand over Bucky's shoulder.

"Why would we do that?" Bucky asks sarcastically.

Sam rolls his eyes playfully. "Stay awhile, enjoy the sunset and have a drink. They're all on the house." You both pause in thought. "I knew that would convince you!"

"Well," you start. "The sky is gorgeous right now. Maybe just one drink till the sun sets."

Someone then calls for Sam and he excuses himself, telling you he'll see you back at home later. You watch him disappear into the crowd, reality hitting you that you're still worked up from Bucky's teasing. And all it takes is a devious look from him to get you riled up again. You shoot up from your seat to thank the vets around you for their service, and tell them that it was nice to meet them, but you have some personal matters to attend to at home. Bucky follows suit, grabbing your hand.

You try to push your way through the crowd without an obvious, horny spring in your step, and as you pass by a table, Bucky fishes a beer with his free hand without stopping.

"I'll call the cab back here and we can-"

"No."

"What?" You stop in your tracks and Bucky lets go of you, continuing to walk to where his motorcycle is parked. He beckons you over with a crooked finger as he mounts the bike, and you fold your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? It's not like he'll be able to drive tonight anyway." He foots the kick stand, placing his beer in the back compartment then bringing his hands up to twist around the handlebars. "Come on, let's go watch the sunset."

"The-the sunset?" You ask incredulously.

"What? You said it was pretty, let's go get a closer look." Your eye twitches at his feigned ignorance.

"Bucky I swear to god if you don't take me right now-"

He grins. "Then I just won't take you at all." He revs the engine once to accentuate his threat and you groan. "Come on or I'll leave you."

"Fine."

You march over to him and swing your leg over the bike, nestling yourself into his back and situating your hands on top of his shoulders. The engine roars to life, the heads of onlookers catching your eye and in one swift motion he kicks it into gear and you're off.

The winds whips your hair and licks at your face, causing you to constantly tear it away from your eyes. Once free, you take in the view before you, ever amazed at how the sun sets on the water; the sky glows with an orange and pink hue, making it look like a painting. And for a moment you forget about your throbbing lower half until you shift to get a little more comfortable on the seat and oh. Oh.

Your hands impulsively tighten around his shoulders and your jaw goes slack, gasping as the vibration from the motorcycle hits just the right spot. You let out a light moan and no sooner clap a hand over your mouth, hoping Bucky hasn't heard you. Your head slumps forward on his back.

"You good back there?" He yells over his shoulder.

"Y-yeah! Uh-all good!" you wheeze, attempting not to sound too out of sorts. The street is bare as he stops at a red light, and you try to breathe so as not to let the pleasure overtake you. It's not that you don't want to let go, it's just that you know you'll never hear the end of it from him of you do.

When the light turns green, he revs the engine so many times you lose count. Your mind is swirling in ecstacy and you start to pant faster, clinging onto Bucky for dear life as you near your release.

You screw your eyes shut, the coil finally snapping while you bite down harshly on the shoulder of his leather jacket. By this point you're unabashedly gasping and moaning, your hips bucking wildly into the seat as your clit is overstimulated to the point it hurts.

You pray for the ride to your apartment to end while he speeds up, causing you to sob into the waves of pleasure the vibrations are granting you. You claw mindlessly at his torso until he finally slows to a stop, and you catch your breath to come to your senses. You can't help the nagging, coherent thought that the ride home had taken a lot longer than usual and you realize the sky is now completely black and littered with stars.

He knew. That fucker knew.

Bucky dismounts the vehicle and stands before you with a hand on his hip and a smug demeanor. You lean forward on your hands, still heaving to try and even out your breath.

"Enjoy the ride?" Bucky taunts, flat lining his lips.

"Fuck-" pant  "-you," you nearly spit. He chuckles darkly. "You were edging me, with a goddamn motorcycle."

He scratches the back of his head. "I might have added a little extra something just for you."

You raise your head. "Why don't we go upstairs and you let me get my revenge?"

He huffs. "What's the point? You already came all over my seat."

"It wasn't your cock," you retort, untangling your wobbly legs from the bike. Bucky reaches out to steady you, pulling you to him by your waist.

"Fair point, pretty girl."

[reuinx]

Home (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You reunite with your girlfriend, Yelena Belova, as she’s been missing months after discovering Natashas death after the Blip.

Word Count: 2,171

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Translations:  Malishka (Baby),  Prekrasnaya Devochka (Lovely Girl)

Masterlist

Every morning, you got up beside the beautiful blonde who always looked at you with her piercing green eyes, observing every move as if you were so delicate that you could break. It was as if she blinked; you would vanish, just like that. Yelena always kept a formidable front to protect herself, but with you, she was like a flower in the morning sun. Nothing ever beats waking up with the one you love. Until they are gone, that is. Nothing extraordinary had taken place that day to make her leave, or at least nothing you could imagine. You had been counting the days since she left. 

You thought about her all the time in your spare time. That was until one day, they merged into one, and everything was beginning to become a blur. Once you stopped counting, you stopped counting forever. Friends and family stopped asking about her, so that helped. It was easier to pretend Yelena didn't exist than to miss her. Despite everything you do, though, reality eventually sets in, and you feel hollow again. Where was she? Was she okay? Who was she with? Did she ever think of you? The same questions would remain unanswered.

To avoid staying in the shared apartment, you filled your day with anything and everything you could think of. The moment night fell, you had no choice but to return home. After so long, the apartment no longer smelled like her. It was like she was a ghost. You began forcing yourself to sleep at night and continued the same process every day. You were running late tonight; you should have been grateful for that, but the rain had soaked you on the way home. Your umbrella decided that it was no match for the wind and miserably gave up with little to no effort. That is what you get for buying a cheap one. 

After reaching the apartment complex, you checked to see if you had any mail. You didn't. With your last bit of energy, you climbed the stairs to your apartment. The neighbors weren't fighting for once, which was a pleasant surprise. When you got to the door, you unlocked it and stepped into the vacant apartment, closing the door behind you. Something was wrong. Somebody was here. You could feel it in your gut. The darkness held a watchful eye over you. It was too late to turn around and unlock the door again. The light was flicked on to reveal the unwelcome guest. Yelena.

Your first thought was that it was someone else until you met her green eyes. You knew her eyes from anywhere. My Yelena. Although you had been thinking about this moment for months, seeing her in person left you speechless. She was drenched from the rain but still utterly gorgeous. In the past, she always stood tall radiating confidence, but not now. Her posture was slumped and tense. The t-shirt she was wearing had tiny flecks of red on it. You weren't sure if it was blood, but then you noticed that her nails were chipped. She had been picking at the varnish again. The only time she ever did that was when something bothered her.

"And here's me thinking you'd be happy to see me. Do you want me to leave and come back? She finally broke the lingering silence between you both. There is a growing distance between you two. The instinct to approach her struck you suddenly; she wasn't moving. Standing motionless, her eyes were fixed on what you were doing.

"I was expecting this," She added.

"Expecting this? Expecting what? Huh? You vanish for..? I don't know, four months? Five months-"

"It was seven," Yelena clarified.

"You aren't helping!"

"I can explain, I promise. Just give me a chance-" She pleaded with you, but you quickly cut her off from giving you an explanation.

"You just left. I didn't know if you were okay or worse, dead. You did that to me without a second thought, Yelena. You expect me to be okay with you? If it was the other way around, would you be okay with that?" You expressed with your hands, animating every word that passed your lips—waving in front of you as you grew passionate.

"I love when you do that. Talk with your hands" Yelena mimicked your gestures with her own hands before studying your expression. Despite her best intentions, she wasn't succeeding in making light of the situation. When she couldn't make you laugh, she knew something was seriously wrong.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Trying to avoid the conversation, Yelena."

"God, don't call me that. It makes you sound like my mother."

"What's the point of talking to you? You attempted to walk past her in the hallway as you snapped out, "It was easier talking to you when you weren't here." Although you wanted to step out of the situation for a moment, you couldn't.

"Malishka, don't be like that," Yelena commanded rather than asked. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't get away from the situation. Yelena stood before you now.

"I could slap you right now."

"Slap me then," She protested as she leaned in inches from your face, her eyebrows raised at you in a taunt. She wanted a reaction from you. Finally, you broke. As tears filled your eyes, you felt the need to blink. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't stop yourself from crying. Sobbing was a common sight for you. It is the ones you love the most that always hurt the worst.

"I hate you," You managed to spit out. Yelena leaned in with her warm breath lingering against your lips as she spoke.

"You don't hate me; you hate that I left." It felt like she wasn't saying that to you but rather to herself. As you leaned closer to her, you could still see the raindrops clinging to the loose strands of her hair. Despite Yelena's best efforts to keep the argument from escalating, something was wrong. It was apparent to you. While she argued, she often had a playful glint in her eyes and a half-smile that followed shortly after that. Her eyes appeared expressionless and empty.

The feeling was like looking into the mirror to see how you were when she left. What had happened to her? She moved away from you towards the coach as she plopped down. She was utterly defeated. Yelena's eyes had been fixed on her nails, and she refused to look at you. You knew when to continue arguing and now was not that time. It wasn't your desire to fight anymore but to get answers. Your only priority was to make sure the girl you loved was okay. Yelena needed you, and you needed her.

Approaching her cautiously, your voice was beginning to adopt a soft tone in hopes of easing her. "Hey, hey you." You called out as you squatted down in front of her and brought yourself as close as possible.

"Look at me" You reached over to carefully begin to skim your fingers among her rings that decorated her hands. After finally allowing the words to escape your lips, you carefully started to skim your fingers over the rings that adorned her hands. It was finally her turn to lift her eyes from her nails. The sadness filling her eyes caused her eyes to droop.

"What's happened, Yelena? You know you can tell me anything. All you have to do is talk, baby. Was it something I did? Why did you even come back?" You managed to say past your quivering lips finally. You had reached the point of anger where it boiled over, and now you feel defeated. Breaking down in front of Yelena is something you hate, but it's too late since crying was something you could not avoid tonight.

"I hate when you cry, my prekrasnaya devochka.” Yelena whispered in response with her hands carefully tapping on your shoulder blades. Her body language indicated that you should get up, and you did so without question. Her hands grasped your hips as she pulled you down onto her lap without ease. Her palms rested perfectly on either cheek was a pleasure to feel. She traced her thumbs carefully over the tears marks you left behind. Gentleness was evident in her touch. Her eyes carefully examined your lips. Yelena's presence had always been missed, but you hadn't realized how much you missed her touch. Within her touch, you had finally calmed down with ease. You knew she was in complete control over you, so it was unbelievable to admit that. She assured your safety.

"Why did I even come back?" Her response was as sharp and vicious as if she was shooting a dagger at you. Suddenly, her eyes bolted up from your lips and held your eyes in a burning gaze. Slowly, her lips twitched into a smile that almost seemed bitter. She smiled for the first time since you lost her. The butterflies you used to feel weren't there; they were replaced with something else... Worry.

"I- Well," Yelena stuttered out with her hands slowly dropping from your cheeks. It was unlike Yelena to fall over her words. Even with her witty comments, she was always so calculated. The time had come for her to explain herself finally. Would she? Would she give you an honest answer or avoid confrontation? What was she hiding from you?

"Hey, hey. It's okay, I've got you" You tried to reassure her, but your attempts were unsuccessful. Suddenly, her eyes appeared to be made of glass. The reflection of her tears being evident from her green eyes. It was unlike her to cry. She leaned back into the couch with her face beginning to scrunch up like a little kid. Her cheeks were starting to flush a crimson as she tried to hold herself together. Her body tensed underneath you before you felt it release after fighting so hard to contain the sadness.

Your arms were open to her as you took her in. If Yelena Belova didn't want you to do something, she would make sure you knew it. She cried bitterly into your shoulder. Instead of saying or doing anything, you held her for the first time.

"It's my sister." Yelena was broken to the core. In front of you, crumbling away. It took you a while to realize that the name was familiar to you.

"Natalia? Your sister? The um- The part-time Science teacher, right?" Yelena released a weak laugh at the story she had you believe. She wasn't doing it despite you but to protect you. You were kept in the dark about a lot of things by her. There were some things better left untouched. Yelena's past makes this more complicated.

"She..um.. she- she's just gone. I didn't know until that morning. The Blip happened, and we were gone; she was still here all this time. Probably on her own. Where was I? She was dead before I even came fucking back. Just rotting in the ground. She was just left there. I couldn't just leave her there on her own, but-“Yelena’s voice was trembling as she spoke every single word. The moment you had the chance to look at her, she revealed that she was completely vulnerable. This was not what you expected to be the reason for her absence, not even close. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead to comfort her, mumbling against her.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but then it became real and well… Here I am. Crying like a child Infront of you, it’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic. Your sister died, Yelena. Why would you even think that’s pathetic?”

“It just is.”

“It’s not.”

"Mhm. I thought going out there to see it for myself was the only thing that was going to help. Give me that feeling of home again.”

“Well… Did it?”

“No. No matter where I went, nowhere felt like home to me. I..I have never felt more at home than here, with you. I hope I haven't fucked this up, have I? I can't fuck up anything else. I wasn’t taking this for granted, I swear. It wasn't until you came in with that stupid.. stupid umbrella that I felt at home again. I felt like everything is going to be okay for the first time in months. I just- I want you.. I needed you. The thought of you never left my mind, I swear. The only thing I wanted was to come home. My home has always been with you. Being away from you killed me, it kills me. I love you, I always have. I just-"While she struggled to get her words out, you sat silently. Rather than interrupting her, you wished to give her a chance.

"I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. You're home now, I'm here. I've got you. You’re safe."

[jostepherjoestar]

Rodeo Gyro

notsfw !! // gn reader // taking care of Gyro and thigh riding 

notes/warnings: thigh riding, mild biting, gyro teasing reader

I really wanted to write an nsfw Gyro fic since that cowboy makes my brain mushy. So here it is 🥰 yeehaw besties 💖✨

link to AO3

–NSFW BELOW THE CUT– MINORS DNI –

“On your left!” You grunted out with a heave as you tossed the hay bale towards Gyro. Droplets of sweat trickled down your skin, forehead already soaked from the heat and the beads running down your back not making it easier not to flinch as they settled at the base of your spine. It’s another scorching summer and the stables are worse off than the outside. You were never one to hate a good nap in the hay come wintertime, but during summers like these you wished to step out of your skin itself for some relief.

The blond easily caught your throw, letting out a small sound on impact he’d rather you didn’t hear. Can’t have you thinking he’s handling this heat any worse than you, now can he? Although, his shirt has been long gone. He proudly announced that Italians know how to handle heat, boasting that his grandfather worked in 45 degree weather and never as much as peeped about it.

You had rolled your eyes at his statement but the annoyance at his antics soon faded when he had revealed his torso.

His skin was a beautiful olive hue, no tan lines, indicating he had probably spent his spare time just as shirtless as now. The muscled lines surging over him seemed sculpted by God themself, a dewy shine having already settled on his godly abs and pecs.

And his arms, oh his arms. Those hay bales had kept him fighting-fit and soon your eyes trailed the expanse of his chest where short curly planes of hair rested, only further emphasising his muscular pecs.

Like you were being guided by the valleys and streams of a gorgeous landscape, you arrived right at the river mouth: a trail of more short curly hairs barely visible by their champagne colour leading you down a path of despair you’d happily embark on. It led all the way from his belly button down to where his jeans started, his signature belt buckle making you realise just how dry your throat had gotten.

And all this in a mere second, or two. Or at least five, who are you kidding? You had cleared your throat and resumed throwing Gyro the hay bales one by one, trying your hardest to focus on the task at hand. It had been going well too, a steady pace made time fly by quickly. Just a couple more to go and you’d be able to gulp down a liter of water and a glass of iced tea to top it off.

If only that glimmer of a bead of sweat making its way down Gyro’s sculpted back hadn’t distracted you. As Gyro slowly turned, time almost seeming to have slowed, you threw the bale right at his middle, much lower than anticipated and landing it straight into his ribs. You gasped and rushed over quickly to your helping hand who was bent over and breathing out painful wheezes.

“Watch where you throw those! Christ…almost knocked me back to Napoli”

But he regained his unaffected self after a few deep breaths, while you knew how heavy these stupid bales were. He swatted you off as soon as you tried to check the place of impact.

“Sorry Gyro…I got distracted! Uh, if you want I can finish up alone!”

You felt bad for letting him get caught in the crossfire of your longing stares, cursing this damn heat once again. He only brushed you off with another quip and urged you to throw the last couple ones faster so you’d both be done quicker. You could clearly see the hit bothered him but he remained ever prideful and kept on working till the last bale was stacked.

“Hey I’m sorry, man. I’ll watch out better next time. I think I have a salve that’s really good at soothing pain. I can go-“

Before you could even finish Gyro tutted, waving his hands a little too close to your face and scrunching his nose.

“That’s enough, I’m a grown man, I’ll live”

And with that he grumbled off, back to the main house where Johnny had been resting on the porch, trying just as hard to beat the heat.

—

Ointment in hand and as stubborn as the Italian you were bringing it to, you knocked on Gyro’s bedroom door. He had his own private guest room at Johnny’s place, they’ve basically moved in together but neither is admitting to it for some god-knows silly reason. But as much as they’re best friends, you’ve also got a neat spot on Johnny’s moderate ranch he acquired after the race. A bed to sleep in and a roof over your head for when you’re helping out at the stables like today.

Your knock was curtly answered, the door being swung open in one swift move, sending your hair flying in the startling wind of his antics.

A bit taken aback by his brashness you cautiously stepped inside. You were used to Gyro’s behaviour by now and had a feeling he was feeling a little grumpy, since he always gets like this when he’s hurt but too prideful to admit it.

“So I got you the ointment…” you leaned on the heels of your boots tentatively, trying not to stare at him.

Gyro had moved back into the chaise longue that rested at the end of his bed, obviously miffed, clenching his jaw while crossing his legs. Obviously the idiot was in pain with every move, and badly trying to hide it too.

“Gyro, stop being such a baby. Here-“ you slid over and joined him, the little glass jar already opened by the time your behind fully met the soft cushioned seating.

“ ‘M not being a baby. Just- do your stupid ointment thing please” He huffed under his breath, uncrossing his legs again.

“You uh, you’re gonna need to take off your shirt for that. Do you need help?”

Your question might have been earnest, filled with care for your close friend and his well being, but a small part of you was chomping at the bit to see his beautiful torso again. This time, even closer.

“Fine. Try not to stare as much though, darling. That’s what got me stuck with this pain in the first place” his remark was quick, finally turning to face you, his big golden grin shining back at you. Like his grills were rubbing salt in the gaping wound you didn’t know he knew about.

“Oh-“ you paused, trying to control the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Well. Shut up before I poke your bruise!” you scooped up a small dollop of the cooling ointment, hand hovering just above the already purple spot forming on his ribs. You really did a number on him with that hay bale.

Gyro clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, friendly bickering between you two was never far off. But his cheeky annoyance quickly washed away as the cooling gel met his warm skin. Your touch was gentle, rubbing circles on the sore area while your other hand rested on his waist. You looked so focused, your brow scrunched up and lips pressed tightly together in concentration. He’d always thought it was cute how lost you could get in your tasks. And he was beyond pleased he was your task for the moment. So pleased in fact, that he found no use in holding back his wiles anymore. Perhaps the lack of sweet and caring touches got to him- not that his pride would let him admit that fact.

“Say, why’re you holding on to me so tightly, sweetheart? I won’t run” Gyro teased, his tone dropping down to a sultry smooth grit that made your cheeks heat up once more. His comment made you snap out of your focus, realising that he’d been right. His comment only making you want the earth to swallow you whole.

“Just trying to be thorough, Gyro. A-and you were squirming! Now let me finish-“ you defended yourself. Not that you seemed all too sure of your case, the way Gyro smirked at you made your resolve falter more and more with each second passing.

“I wasn’t squirming” his eyes had all but cast over with a deeper hue of alluring emerald. His calloused hand now gently holding your wrist. You could only helplessly stare up at him, the shift in mood not having gone unnoticed. A familiar heat already earning footing between your thighs. Somewhere deep inside you were scolding yourself, angry at Gyro’s effect on you. Letting yourself get distracted and now turning to putty when he’s only holding on to your wrist. Angry that you wanted nothing more than for him to continue whatever scheme he was up to.

With your wrist still in hand, Gyro closed the small glass jar of ointment and slid it further along the chaise longue.

“Well I must thank you for taking care of me, even if it was your fault I got hurt-“ The fires blazing in your eyes and the sour look you shot at his remark only made him chuckle.

“Yes, Gyro. I was there.” Through gritted teeth and nothing short of annoyed you tried to tug your wrist out of his hold. It only made him tighten it around you.

“I wasn’t done talking, darling.” He tutted.

“Let me return the favour. I’m feeling charitable today”

“Gyro, what?” You rolled your eyes, what was this idiot getting at? First, he gets all sensual and now he’s straight up teasing you. Not that it wasn’t just as titillating, his pet names for you only made your head swim and thighs clamp together.

His answer was clear, setting you down on his lap in a quick move that caught you by surprise. And there you were, the spot you’ve only fantasised of being. His natural musk having become the very air you breathed to survive. Stunned and still slightly confused you let him put your arms around his neck. Your legs however, were strategically placed on either side of one of his thighs.

“You in for the ride? I won’t hold it against you if you want us to stop” His tone was sincere, gaze softened just enough to let you know it was alright.

“Y-yes. Yes. I- yes Gyro” you sputtered. God, this was embarrassing but you were glad you didn’t sound as desperate as you really were to be this close to him. At least you thought so.

And with that, the blond cowboy was satisfied, letting out a little “nyoho” that somehow remained sultry.

You suddenly became all too aware why he’d placed you like this, over his thigh. But there wasn’t much time to think, not when Gyro moved into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline. His lips were softer than you’d expected. His breaths so nice and warm whenever he moved further down your sensitive skin.  

“I’ve seen you ride,” he murmured into your skin just below your left ear. “Now show me how it’s done, cowboy” goosebumps rose all over your skin, letting out a shuddering moan as he bit into you. Not quite hard enough to make you yelp out in pain, but just enough for you to rock your hips straight into his tensed thigh.

He continued his assault on your neck, bites and kisses alternated on each side as you rocked your needy heat on him. With a particularly hard bite, your arm snapped to right next to Gyro, exactly where his hat had been laying on the chair. Even in the heat of the moment you grabbed it and plopped it down onto his champagne locks.

“Keep it on please” your breath shuddered as you continued. He had moved his lips to your shoulders now, moving away your top to reach every spot he wished to worship.

Every swish of your hips drove you further and further, lost in the pleasure as your head felt like it might just explode. Tingles had already started making their way up your abdomen when Gyro released himself from your skin.

“Tell me what you want,” He asked roughly. He was having a hard time keeping it together, it seemed.  

“Y-you, Gyro” you whimpered, slowing yourself and burying your face inside the crook of his neck. Too embarrassed to face his stare just yet.

“I know that, sweetheart. But tell me what is you want exactly”

“Gyro…” you whined, burying yourself even deeper.

“Yes?” He quipped, pulling himself back and taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, that stupid grin antagonising you.

Cheeks heated and puffy you had no choice but to give in. “I want you to fuck me Gyro. Are you happy now?”

“Nyoho, very happy! I knew that” he laughed.

“Oh fuck you!” You grimaced, still trying to chase that fleeting peak that you were so close to.

“I like hearing you beg for it, darling” his lips had finally met yours, melting away any and all of his teasing, just like that. God, he made it so easy to give into him. He was just as playful now though, swirling his tongue and clashing his lips with yours like he was taming you.

As he continued his sloppy passionate kiss back down your jaw, you sped up your riding. Never one to finish last.

One last peck and one last tug of your skin between his golden clad teeth and you could feel fireworks rising all the way up to the top of your head. Gyro grinned widely as he admired you, using him like he’d asked you to. One less thing he needs to fantasise about, he’s living it. And eating up every single second of it, the throbbing in his pants nearly took care of itself. He stared in awe, your face contorting in pleasure as you tried your best to contain your desperate moans. Your breath was ragged as you came down from your high, letting your full weight rest on his thigh even though you were beyond sensitive at this point.

“You’ve never looked better riding like that, beautiful” a single soft peck touched the tip of your nose, the gesture was surprisingly gentle.

You had regained your senses enough to start up your own round of teasing. Sporting the same grin he had just a minute ago, you started pushing him down the chaise longue, landing him on his back.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow. The pain in his ribs all but forgotten thanks to your treatment.

“I ain’t done riding just yet. Better hold on to that hat cowboy” slick as ever you dove down to return a forceful kiss that nearly knocked the breath out of Gyro. Not before letting out a “nyoho” in his surprise.

Oh, he was going to like this even more than your last rodeo.  

[imkylotrash]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Request: They’re getting ready to go into the Quarter Quell, and essentially have a super sweet conversation where they confess their love, and are like “damn the revolution I’ll protect you”. Anonymous

A/N It’s been a long time since I read the books so if I accidentally used the wrong word for something please let me know and I’ll correct it 💛

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​

You called it before they even announce it. You knew all the victors would get involved in the Quarter Quell because how else would he get Katniss to be in the arena without letting the public know that it’s purely to kill her? When you hear Finnick’s name get called out, there’s no choice. But was there ever one to begin with?  

“I volunteer as tribute,” you say raising your hand to let them know that you’ll be going into the Quarter Quell and not that poor girl they’ve got on stage. You don’t look at Finnick because you know his face will just mirror back the pain you feel. No matter what the revolution has planned, you highly doubt that both of you gets out alive. The focus will be on Katniss because she’s the one that’s been fuelling the fire while the rest of you can die a martyr and inspire the people then Katniss’ death would squash the tiny flame. It’s not fair but she made everything possible when she took out those berries. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Finnick tells you once you’re on the train travelling to the Capitol. 

“There was no way I was going to let you go alone.” Not to mention that innocent girl who got drafted. You’d have been a proper piece of shit had you not volunteered. 

“But you could’ve survived. Don’t you understand that’s all I care about?” 

“Careful, Finnick. Someone might hear your declaration of love and think it means something else.” It’s a warning that the walls have ears and not necessarily just the Capitol’s ears. Although you both want to think only the best of the lovely Coin, you can’t help but feel like it’s too good to be true. And you have no doubt that she’s got as many spies all around as President Snow. 

“I just want you to live,” he says hearing your warning loud and clear. Katniss and to some extent Peeta are untouchable, you are not. He takes your hand without another word. The rest of the train ride you remain quiet, too worried about saying the wrong thing and jeopardising this whole thing. Haymitch is counting on to keep Katniss alive until the rescue mission and your lives can’t matter more than the entire of Panem. Even if you want to say screw that sometimes.

“God, you’ve gotten old,” you smile spotting Haymitch next to the star-crossed lovers. He scoffs but can’t help but laugh. You’ve known each other for quite some time now and learned a long time ago that humour is how you all get through this with at least some level of sanity.

“I see your kindness have only grown over the years,” he mocks before giving you a massive hug. Being a victor and having to mentor the kids every year creates a certain bond between you all but Haymitch has always been one of your favourites. It’s the reason you know you can trust him to do you a favour. 

“We should talk once all the celebrations die down. Catch up on old times,” you smile giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze. He agrees suggesting the rooftop for a gorgeous view. When Finnick sneaks his arm around you, there’s a slight pang of guilt but you force it to the back of your mind. He’s going to survive the Quarter Quell if you can do anything about it. 

“What did you talk about?” he asks quietly and you keep a smile on your face not even looking at him. 

“Just good old days,” you utter hoping Finnick will understand not to ask more questions right now. There are too many people around you to speak freely and, in a minute, you’ll have to get on that carriage and pretend you’re proud to be fighting once again. 

“Katniss, Peeta!” you call out catching their attention just as they’re about to get on their carriage, “nice costumes.” You’re trying to be nice and establish some sort of positive relation between you but all it does is make Katniss stare at you like you’re personally responsible for putting her in the Quarter Quell. 

“I already tried. Tough nut,” Finnick tells you. It makes sense why the revolution needs a face but why they would ever choose someone like Katniss is beyond you. She’s not kind or caring expect when it comes to the people she loves. The future of Panem seems oddly low on her list of priorities but then again when has war ever made sense? And you certainly can’t say you’re morally better than her. 

“Is holding hands a cliché?” You look over to Finnick who’s doing his very best to put on a brave face.

“I think it’s perfect.” You intertwine your fingers with his not letting go until the carriage has driven through those gates at the end where the public can’t see you anymore. And even then, it’s just to get some blood flow back. 

“I just want some sleep,” Finnick says itching to get the costume off and you’re thinking the same thing. You ride up in the elevator with Katniss, Peeta and Joanna which makes for an interesting end to the day. 

“Never a dull moment,” you say before exiting the elevator with Finnick. Joanna laughs loudly while both Katniss and Peeta looks slightly mortified. If she’s trying to win over Katniss, Joanna is doing a poor job. 

“Let’s take a shower,” Finnick suggests now that you’re finally alone and you’re all too happy to comply. In the shower you can finally speak freely with the sound of water drowning out the sound of your voices. 

“I know it’s horrible to say but the revolution doesn’t matter to me if I don’t have you next to me when it’s done.” He slowly lets his hands slide down your arms until they reach your hands. 

“I know,” you whisper feeling the exact same way. The guilt returns tenfold this time but you keep quiet knowing that when he’s sleeping tonight, you’ll be bargaining for his life. 

“I say damn the revolution. I swore to protect to you a long time ago and I’m not breaking that promise now.” He kisses you with a fire that tells you just how badly he wants to keep you safe. Desperation takes over your body as you kiss him back. You wish you could leave now and hide somewhere far away from everything. If it were up to you, you would’ve fled the moment you heard about the Quarter Quell. But it’s difficult leaving behind so many decent people who needs your help and the few moments of hesitation had been enough for the peacekeepers to show up and make sure you didn’t take off. Snow always knew you were a runner. 

“And I say you’re sounding crazy. We can’t change the plan now. There’s nowhere to run.” As much as you’d love to run away and hide with him, you know it’s too late for that now. You wouldn’t make it out of the building. 

“I don’t care if I sound crazy. We can protect each other in the arena, make sure we never part. And when they come get us, we make sure they grab both of us.” It’s cruel really to give hope to him because you know it won’t work but you wish it could be so easy. 

“And then when we’re out, we hide. No more war, no more revolution. Just you and me and a small cottage near the water.” Hope may be cruel but it’s a strong motivator to survive and if anything you need Finnick to survive. You hide your face in the crook of his neck allowing yourself to feel a pang of sadness at the prospect of the future you’ve lost. Your lives ended the day you got drawn for the Hunger Games. 

“And you can finally have enough quiet to paint,” he adds and you don’t have to see his face to see the affection in his eyes. 

“It would be perfect,” you say closing your eyes to picture the cottage and the life you could’ve had with Finnick. The water hides the tears that fall from your eyes and it’s a good thing because you’re not sure you would be able to hold your secret from spilling out if Finnick noticed. 

“I promise I will make it happen. I promise we’ll be alive to spend the rest of our lives together. Whatever it takes,” he says. Instead of answering him, you kiss him again. When the water turns cold, you get out and dry off. You both know that your safety is gone now and they can hear whatever you say so you keep quiet letting your eyes do the talking. You cuddle up in bed where you wait for him to drift off before you head to the roof where Haymitch is waiting. The wind is loud tonight working as a noise diffuser. 

“I want you to save him.” It doesn’t surprise Haymitch but you both know he can’t make any promises. 

“I know Katniss is the main goal and that’s she’s probably made some demand for Peeta. But if there comes a choice between saving Finnick or the rest, you save him. Do you understand?” It’s the least he can do for you after everything you’ve sacrificed for President Coin and the revolution. You could’ve had a life if things had gone differently. 

“And that includes me, Haymitch. Once you’ve gotten Katniss and Peeta out, Finnick is your priority,” you add knowing that if Haymitch could choose, he’d pick you. 

“Finnick will make more sense for the revolution. I won’t be an asset the way he can be.” He knows you’re right. Of course he does but it doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“I know,” he grumbles. You both know there’s a good chance you won’t make it out of that arena but then again none of you have been safe ever since you became victors. Snow made sure of that. 

“Promise me. I need to hear you say it.” You’re not satisfied until you hear him say those words that will give Finnick a chance to make it. As much as you’d love to believe his plan of getting out of the arena together, you can’t afford to entertain the idea. Even if Finnick isn’t ready to admit it, you both know it’s a fairy tale ending you won’t get. 

“I always thought he was just your way of getting through it, you know. That he offered some sort of relieve.” Maybe at first Finnick was your escape from reality but not now. He’s your world and everything else. 

“He has my heart, Haymitch.” You hug him tightly hoping he knows how much his friendship has meant to you over the years of being a mentor.

“Take care,” he says before you spin around hurrying back. Finnick doesn’t wake up until you crawl back to bed but a quick excuse about the bathroom satisfies his curiosity. 

“I love you,” you whisper looking over at the man who’s given you so much more than you’ll ever be able to explain. 

“I love you more.” 

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 5.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage

A/N: Shout out to my squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @underthejoon for always spitballing ideas with me and reading over what I have written. I’m seriously so lucky to have my girls and my heart is so full with them around <3

Also the beautiful banner is by @xjoonchildx so now we have two gorgeous banners to alternate every other chapter! I’m so happyyyyyy!! Enjoy guys!

It's usually relaxed Sundays at the Yu penthouse like God intended them to be but instead this Sunday was filled with raucous screaming and over dramatic whining which you aren't exactly used to.

"Leena." Jin warns, almost as if he's speaking to a child. 

You watch as your best friend takes the stuffed animal you won at the Fall Festival out of it's cardboard box before chucking it back onto your unmade bed. It's her act of defiance and it warms your heart slightly to know how much she loves you.

"Relax, would you?" Jin asks, wrapping a painting of yours in bubble wrap.

"No." She huffs out as she folds her arms. 

You find yourself smirking as you wrap your arms around her. She stiffens slightly before melting into the hug and rocking you from side to side.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" She chants bitterly as Jin sets the painting against the wall.

"Why don't you tell us about your date with Taehyung?" Jin offers, trying to take her mind off of it.

"No." She replies childishly as she hugs you tighter.

Jin sighs gently as he picks up the contract. It's a thick packet with words and legal jargon you find yourself unable to understand.

"I'm going to go read this in the living room. Leena, come with me." Jin commands and she pouts at you as she pulls away.

"At least he bought her pretty things." She grumbles to your other best friend as she follows him out of your bedroom.

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in the almost empty room. Your heart feels heavy in this moment. It's been almost six years since you moved into this apartment with Leena. 

This new journey will be the start to something extremely different from your norm. This will be the first time that you won't be seeing your best friend everyday, or when you wake up in the morning. It's jarring and more importantly frightening.

You had already quit your managerial position at the hospital, you've already packed up all of the things deemed "acceptable" for Yoongi's home. It really is a new path for your life.

Your parents loved you so very dearly from when you were quite young. They always knew what to say and what to do, always pushed for you to do the right things quite like them. They worked so hard for you to have a better life than they did when they were young. 

You can only hope to be as good of a parent as they were. 

Telling them you were pregnant was terrifying at first. You expected them to be disappointed with you. But, surprisingly, they were supportive. It was incredibly comforting, because no matter what happens you could count on them.

Looking down at your flat stomach, although you don't look different, you feel different. With a sigh, you close your eyes for a fraction of a second before taking in a deep breath.

Everyone keeps telling you to be strong, to have strength and everything will work out but unfortunately it isn't that easy. 

"Hey Y/N." Jin whispers as he leans against the door frame.

Opening your eyes, you give him a smile to try and tell him you're alright.

"The contract looks good. Namjoon did right by you." He tells you, holding up the packet and a pen.

You hold your hands out and he enters the room.

You can hear Leena's feet stomping down the long hallway as you put the packet on your lap. 

She arrives in the doorway with a martini in hand and you tilt your head to her as she scowls. 

"You can't have sex? Is he serious?" She scoffs.

You give a smirk as you sign the contract, "Seems like it. I asked him if I could have sex with him because he's the father and he sat there and literally told me he doesn't understand why I would have sex if I'm pregnant. He seemed repulsed." 

"I'll punch him in the dick." Leena murmurs into her martini glass.

"Yu Leena." Jin scolds as you set the pen down on your lap. 

"What?! He's a huge fucking dick suck." She says waving him off with her hand.

Both you and Jin snort loudly and he lays his head on your shoulder before hugging you tightly. 

"I'm gonna miss you, princess." He whispers.

"Me too." You mumble as you wrap your arms around his.

"Shouldn't you let the madam buy the child's furniture?" Yoongi hears Maya ask over his shoulder as he scours through the furniture website.

"If her ability to pick out furniture is as bad as her clothing or her shoes, my heir will end up sleeping in a rickety old basket made out of straw and hair." He retorts as she hands him his Irish coffee.

He hears her gentle sigh and he knows it's because somehow, something he said had disappointed her.

"What's wrong, Maya?" He asks as he locks the iPad, throwing it on the other side of the couch to look up at her.

She hums undecidedly before looking down at him as he sips his coffee, "Maybe try to be nice to her. She's going to have a hard time being pregnant in this household with your wife here." 

Her suggestion makes a shiver run up his spine. Just hearing the word pregnant sends him into some deep spiral.

Maya always has been kind hearted. She's always been understanding of others. Even if they don't deserve it.

Like with Sera, Maya will bust her ass to try to make the leech smile even if she gets sneers and snarky remarks in turn. 

She's too pure for this world. Too amazing for this cheap lifestyle.

"I am being nice to her. She gets to move in here." He responds as he sets the coffee cup down on his marble table.

“Min Yoongi.” Maya breathes out above a whisper before closing her eyes.

He watches her brow furrow with shame and he clears his throat uncomfortably before looking around the open gallery of the mansion to try and find any reason for her to leave.

“I didn’t raise you this way. You know that.” The older woman chides as she dusts off some of the priceless paintings that line the walls beside where he sits. 

He lets out a gentle snort as he leans back into the chaise lounge. 

“At least someone raised me, right?” He quips to her as he looks out the bay windows.

The garden seems well tended as of late, after the last fiasco with the uneven hedges he appreciates how much work his new gardeners have put into it.

He begins to wonder what you enjoy, what your hobbies are besides getting pounded in the back of your best friends club. Do you enjoy the finer things? Like yachting or horse racing? Do you even know what they are? Just how sheltered are you?

“What do poor people like? Swap meets?” Yoongi asks as he watches the rose bushes sway in the wind. 

“Yoongi.” Maya whispers dejectedly and he turns his head to her before shrugging. 

“Just asking.” He murmurs as a sparrow lands on the marble bird bath beside the window. 

“Why don’t you just try to get to know her? Ask her things like that without being rude.” Maya replies as she turns to him.

With a grimace, he finishes his coffee before handing the cup to her, “Why do I have to get to know her?”

“Oh my goodness.” Maya mumbles as she leaves the gallery. 

The billionaire watches her leave before slowly turning back to the window to stare aimlessly for a little while longer.

He's always been so jaded, always been so absolutely fucking ruthless because if he didn't protect himself from the outside world who would?

And even if it causes rifts, he just has to be this way. Because you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The sounds of construction break him out of his thoughts. The contract must have gone through to Namjoon, if your room was already being renovated. Kira must have called and set up everything like she was supposed to.

It's a good thing she isn't just good for her tight snatch. 

Standing up with a groan, he stretches high up to the ceiling. He can hear and feel his bones popping and groaning to welcome a new day in front of him.

As he steps onto the heated marble flooring of the second floor, he knows he should be getting ready for work yet instead his curiosity begins to eat at him. 

What is your room starting to look like? How about the kids room? 

Walking past his walk-in closet, he can see dust and wood shavings on the floor in the hallway. His first thought is to curse out the constructors and threaten them if even a single wooden shard enters his room. But, before he can even open his mouth the shrill voice of his wife enters his ears.

"MIN YOONGI!" He can feel his brain rattling around in his skull, like a cry for help. He sighs loudly, it's really not a surprise that she can be even louder than the construction right in front of him.

Turning to her, he takes in her half asleep look. Her sleeping mask is stuck to her forehead, her black hair jutting out on all sides as she narrows her big, doll-like eyes at him.

"Some people are trying to sleep!" She screeches from the entrance of her wing in the mansion.

He chuckles to himself at her disheveled state and proceeds into his closet to get ready for work.

It probably won't end at that. And, he is absolutely correct.

Peeling off his sleep shirt, his eyes meet his wife's through the mirror as she storms into the room.

"I need beauty sleep, asshole!" She yells at him and he stares at her for a fraction of a second before clicking his teeth and tilting his head.

"You don't need beauty sleep, I paid for that face, leech." He deadpans.

His body is quick to duck out of the way as she takes the nearest object to the door before lobbing it at his head. 

"Did you do as I told you?" She asks, watching him grab his crisp white work shirt.

He doesn't reply, which in turn makes her repeat the same question louder with a high shrill added to her tone.

She's always been impatient and bratty. Once which was endearing to him is now like nails on a chalkboard.

"Hello?! I'm speaking to you! Answer me, asshole!" She yells as she snaps her fingers in his face.

Pressing his tongue to his cheek, he lets out a gentle snort before taking a deep inhale through his nose.

"When do I ever just do as you tell me to, Sera? When has that ever been a goal of mine?" He asks as he grabs his pinstriped tailored pants to match his shirt.

"What? So you didn't?" She asks, clearly shocked.

"Of course I didn't, what are you? Insane? Stupid? I'm a dick but I'm not heartless." He retorts.

"No! Just heartless to me!" She cries out angrily and he chuckles to himself as he grabs a tie.

"I'm sure you'll survive." He mumbles as he pulls the drawer full of his watches open. He watches them spin on their platforms before picking a black Rolex that would go nicely with his pants.

"The plan was for you to make her say that she's my surrogate! Since I'm so beautiful and so famous, she would be carrying my child instead!" Just hearing her ridiculous plan again makes him almost as uncomfortable as the first time he heard it.

In all honesty, as soon as those words left her mouth he didn't even entertain the idea. It seemed so wholly horrible and so absolutely fucking selfish. But, this is Sera we're talking about.

"That was your plan. You think I would ever force her or anyone to have to go in front of people and say their kid isn't their own? Jesus Christ. You really are a fucking leech." He spits out.

"But! But, she's going to use you for your money! She's going to ruin everything!" She screams above the incessant construction.

The sentence sends something akin to fire flaming throughout his gut.

"Well, leech, it's not like I'm not used to being used for my money. If anything you can teach her first hand what it's like to milk me like a money cow." Her mouth opens slightly, as if she's appalled by the notion.

It's then that his patience snaps like a thin twig beneath weight.

"Do you want to see my dick?" He asks briskly.

"Ew! What? No, of course not!" She yells at him as he gathers his clothes onto one arm.

"Then get the fuck out. I have to get ready for work." She stomps her foot loudly as if in protest but he brushes by her without a word back to his bedroom.

"Fucking money grubbing leech." He whispers to himself as he slams his bedroom door closed behind him.

Thursday nights were appointed for one thing in Min Yoongi's eyes. Poker.

The library which he barely ever entered as well as his wife that couldn't read more than ten words without having a seizure was always occupied on Thursdays. 

Usually, the other five members of his social circle were always present but today he only had the pleasure of four of them.

"I love that Maya deals." Taehyung chuckles as he pulls the pile of poker chips in the middle of the table towards him.

Yoongi snorts gently, clamping the cigar between his teeth tighter as he stacks his chips with one hand.

"Maya, can I please have some more ice?" Namjoon asks softly as he holds up the bucket.

"Oh of course!" She says quickly as she takes the bucket from him.

Taehyung and Jimin watch her leave before slyly smirking to Yoongi as he leans back in his chair with a groan. The way they look at him makes him feel like prey in a baron forest.

"What?" He murmurs as he pulls the cigar from his mouth.

The tips of Taehyung's fingers slide over the green felt table as he lifts his glass of whisky.

"I heard something interesting about you." He replies to his older friend.

Namjoon clears his throat uncomfortably as he crosses his legs beneath the lip of the table. 

"Oh yeah? What's that? Something about my board of trustees?" Yoongi asks with a laugh as he picks up his own glass.

"Not so much." Jimin murmurs as he ashes his cigar.

"Heard you got a girl pregnant." Yoongi chokes on his whisky as he hears Taehyung's smooth voice. His eyes widen and he spins his chair around to dab at his mouth. 

His blood runs cold as the hotel CEO chuckles behind him. It scares the ever living shit out of him and he hates that.

"Where'd you hear that?" He asks gently, his voice audibly shaking as he turns back around.

"A little after I pulled my dick out of Yu Leena's tight ass." Jimin snickers at the admission and Yoongi closes his eyes in defeat.

"You won't say anything, right?" Namjoon asks quietly as he looks over at his best friend.

Hoseok, Yoongi's other best friend since childhood had only recently found out about you and his heir. While he was surprised, he was always loyal to the CEO and Yoongi knew he could count on his silence.

"I definitely won't. I like it when Leena comes over and if I say anything she won't let me take her to France in two weeks." The Kisung Connected CEO sighs in relief at the younger man's admission.

Maya returns with the ice and it gets quiet for a bit, just the gentle sounds of ice clinking against glass and poker chips smacking into each other resound throughout the large library.

"Leena loves her, y'know. She never shuts up about her. I feel like I know her with how much Leena tells me." Taehyung says as he rubs two poker chips together between his fingers.

This peaks his curiosity as he begins to relax into the chair once more.

"What does she say?" Yoongi asks softly and he watches as Maya smirks gently. Her motions are soft and smooth as she deals the cards. 

"About Y/N? That she's really sweet and kind. She works really hard and enjoys simple things like most poor people." Humming inquisitively, he lifts his whisky glass to his lips to ponder that thought.

"Simple things? Like?" Taehyung rolls his eyes at Yoongi's question.

"Yeah. Simple things. She likes to paint and to watch romantic movies. She enjoys cooking and other poor people shit." 

He begins to wonder how well you can paint. If you were any good at it.

"She's really sweet." Namjoon adds and Yoongi grimaces in his direction.

Noticing his grimace, the lawyer shrugs with a smirk.

"Is she the girl that was with Leena on her birthday?" Jimin asks and both Yoongi and Taehyung nod at the same time.

"Oh dude! She's so fucking hot! I can't believe you got to her before me!" Hearing those words roll off of his friend's tongue sets him in an uncomfortable state.

His body leans away from Jimin's as he clutches the cigar tighter between his index and middle finger.

"So she's moving in here?" Jimin asks happily.

"In two days. Yes. We have to go to the doctor and then she'll be in the mansion." 

Hoseok nudges Namjoon as they watch their best friend move uncomfortably. 

Yoongi loosens his tie around his neck, his face and chest begin to feel incredibly hot and flush. He can feel the sweat building on his hairline as he uncuffs his cufflinks. 

"Maya." He whispers as he holds them out over the table. 

Swallowing thickly, he stares down into his glass as the ice clinks against the crystal sides.

"You're lucky she's moving in. Now you'll have constant pussy." Jimin says as he scrolls through Leena's Instagram. 

The concept is completely foreign to Yoongi, "She's pregnant. Why would I fuck her?" 

Namjoon chuckles to himself gently as he looks at his cards, he tosses a few chips into the center of the table before looking pointedly at his best friend.

"Because man, pregnant pussy feels so much better than regular pussy. Plus, she's carrying your baby. That's fucking hot." Yoongi sneers at Jimin, the corner of his upper lip flicking upward at the notion.

"You're a fucking short little weirdo, Park Jimin." Yoongi's sentence comes out just a bit more acidic than he means it to but he doesn't apologize.

If anything the small flames of anger seem to burnish brighter as Jimin chuckles to himself. Park has always been so sure of himself, so absolutely ruthless in getting what he wants. But, you weren't his to have.

"If you aren't going to fuck her right, can I?" He asks as he tosses chips into the middle of the table. 

Yoongi's hand grips into a fist, the edges of the chips he holds make uncomfortable indents into his skin as he focuses on Maya's face to calm himself down.

"Whoa. Jimin." Hoseok mumbles as Jimin laughs.

"Calm down hyung. I'm just playing with you. I'll just ask her out on a date and we'll see where it goes." Yoongi chuckles to himself.

He can't begin to understand why it bothers him so much to hear those words. Maybe it's because you're being treated flippantly or maybe it's because you were his. Or, should be his anyway. You were having his child. Doesn't that make you off limits?

But he was better than this. He was better than letting small, simple things beneath his skin.

"She won't say yes. She's pregnant with my baby." He says as he chucks his chips into the center of the table roughly.

"We'll see. If she does say yes, just know I'll treat your baby mama with a lot of respect...as I rearrange her guts with the head of my cock." Jimin and Taehyung chortle loudly as they knock their shoulders into one another. 

Scoffing gently, he downs the rest of his whisky before wiping the back of his hand over his lips.

It takes all of his restraint to not get out of his chair and punch the shorter man in the face. It takes every single ounce of strength to just stay seated and look as if he's calm while on the inside he's burning bright with red hot rage.

"You watch your fucking mouth, Jimin. She's the mother of my child." He says as he points his finger over the lip of his glass at the younger man.

The laughs die down as they notice just how deadly serious he is. 

"Oh, now you care about her? Seemed like she was going to be just another leech ten minutes ago." Jimin chuckles as he speaks his words and Namjoon's eyes flutter shut in defeat.

"Yeah well, if she was to be a leech. She would be my leech. Not yours. You watch your fucking mouth when you talk about the mother of my baby in this fucking house, do you understand me?" He doesn't even understand where this rage is coming from. He can't begin to process it, but he doesn't miss the smile that creeps onto Maya's face as he defends your honor.

Jimin holds his hands up with a laugh as he clenches his cigar between his teeth. 

"Calm down Yoongi. I'm just fucking with you. I don't want to fuck your poor baby mama, alright?" 

Namjoon sits up fast as Yoongi goes to stand up, "Let's just all relax. Calm down." He tells his best friend as he puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Get out." He says aloud as he brushes Namjoon's hand off his shoulder.

Jimin looks up at Yoongi as Maya gently sets the cards down on the felt table. 

"Oh Yoongi. Come on, I was fucking around." He says half heartedly.

"I'm done for the night. Get the fuck out." He burns his cigar out before opening up the library doors.

Everyone stands and thanks Maya softly before heading out one by one. Yoongi catches Jimin by the shoulder as he leaves last.

His hand clasps roughly around his skin and Jimin cringes at the sharp pain, "You keep her fucking name out of your goddamn mouth. Do you understand me? Don't you dare ever disrespect her in this household again. Or, I'll release those pictures of you at your bachelor party to Dispatch. You keep your dick away from where it doesn't belong in this house."

The threat sends Jimin's eyes widening a fraction before he collects his composure, "I got it. Relax." He says before pulling his shoulder away and patting the older man's arm.

Taking a deep breath, he looks around the library before meeting Maya's gaze as she clears the cards off of the poker table.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that nasty stuff." He apologizes and her nose wrinkles sweetly as she smiles.

"Now that, that is how I raised you." He smirks gently at her praise before pocketing his hands and looking down at the floor.

"Can you order some paint brushes and canvas?" He asks softly.

"Oh of course! For you? You don't paint." Maya asks, her voice is riddled with confusion as she stacks the poker chips back in the oak box.

"No, I don't but Y/N does." He mumbles and Maya smiles widely before nodding. 

"Of course I'll order her some painting materials! That's a great idea, Yoongs!" Seeing her, the woman who has raised him, get so excited about it makes him feel almost drunk off of delight.

But, then he gets brought down to Earth once more as he hears his wife giggle from the kitchen. 

"Thanks, Maya." He mumbles as he sets off to his wing of the mansion. He eyes Hoseok chatting up his wife as they both lean against the bar and he snorts to himself in disbelief. At least someone would be getting laid tonight.

The problem with having a wife that sees other people is just how loud sex can get when you're not involved. 

At one point Yoongi craved to be in Hoseok's position. He was dying to get in between Sera's legs albeit she was annoying and bratty since they were kids. He had a genuinely real crush on her that dissolved into distaste and pure hatred in a matter of moments.

Even across the whole mansion, he can hear her getting fucked like there's no tomorrow and he grimaces while turning to the window as he lays in bed. 

"Music up to ninety percent." He calls out in the room and the volume of the classical piano piece rises quickly to drown out the feral noises of sex from the other wing in the mansion.

Pulling out his phone, he begins to scroll through Instagram before finding Leena's page. There were so many posts with just you and her or you, her and Seokjin. Your smile was pretty. He takes into account that you haven't really smiled around him all that much but he can understand why. 

He can remember your giggle too, when you were in Namjoon's office. It was soft and gentle, like hummingbird wings. The noise instantly made him relax and he can remember how his eyes fluttered shut just upon hearing it.

You weren't a bad person. You weren't trying to trap him-- he could see it on your face when you had lunch. You were genuinely mortified. So fucking frightened. And, even though he doesn't know you, you don't deserve that.

You don't deserve to be terrified of him or anyone. 

He can see in most of these pictures, you're wearing borrowed things. The Chanel, the Balenciaga, the Gucci-- it was all Leenas and none of it was your own. 

How fucking depressing must that be? Did Leena make you wear her clothes or did you ask her to borrow some in order to not feel poor and unworthy around others? 

Sighing gently, he presses his face deeper into the pillow as he continues to scroll.

Maybe he shouldn't treat you like another Sera. But, he doesn't trust a single person. He's learned to lock his heart away in an iron cage after Sera so brutally stepped on him.

He's not sure if he could ever truly open up to someone else that isn't the woman who raised him.

Next Chapter --->

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[unnecessarywriting]

Only You - Fred Weasley

Request: may I humbly request a Christmas at the Burrow with your crush, Fred Weasley, who sometime during the holiday admits his feelings for you??

A/N: Thank you for the request. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you like it!

Only You 

George had a plan. His plan? Well, it was to push Fred to you. Yes, he wanted to see his brother happy, but more than anything, he wanted to put an end to his own suffering. For months it was Y/N this and Y/N that. If he was being honest, he was close to hexing his brother, but he would rather initiate his plan. What was it? It’s quite simple really.

“Fred, let’s place a bet.”

“Alright, I’m in. On what?”

“Y/N of course.”

“No way. Not gonna happen.” “Too late now. I bet 10 galleons that you’re not going to confess to her over this break.” Fred paused for a moment and thought. He could win the girl of his dreams and 10 galleons in one go. Fred hates to lose.

“You’re on!” George smiled. He knows his twin. Fred hates to back down from a bet. He also hates to lose.

 The Burrow was booming from the moment you arrived. Harry and Ron went to eat, the twins started planning pranks, Molly was yelling at her children, Ginny was talking about Harry, and you were observing the family. Although it could be a bit chaotic, you were always happy to have a place there. You caught Fred from the corner of your eye. He was looking particularly good. His hair fell perfectly, and his shirt was fitting for his form. You were especially happy to spend the holiday around him. He was someone who always made your heart beat just a little faster. Ginny was aware of your crush on her brother, and she completely supported it. She already saw you as the older sister she never had, and she would have loved to call you her sister for real. She often encouraged you to just go after him, but you were not the type to throw away a perfectly good friendship because you developed romantic feelings. 

The first day at the Burrow went by in a blur. You were focused on getting yourself situated in Ginny’s room, and eating the delicious meals that Molly offered. The following day, however, was filled with fun activities, courtesy of the twins. George in particular was pushing for you to join in everything they were doing. The day started with a friendly quidditch match. You played as a chaser on Fred’s team. He spent a considerable amount of time by your side. Oftentimes, you weren’t even paying attention to the match. He would tell dumb jokes, and you would indulge him by offering honest laughter.

After the match, which you lost due to being a bit distracted, you enjoyed lunch. The whole time, Fred seemed unusually distant. He sat far away from you, and ignored your attempts to talk to him. You were completely confused with the complete 180 he pulled. At Molly’s request, you and the rest of the group decided to go for a walk out in the cold. She wanted you all out of the house, and Ginny suggested enjoying the snow outside. You were getting a jacket when you passed by the twins.

“Are you already quitting?”

“No, I just needed some time to gather my thoughts.”

“I think you meant emotions brother. You better get yourself together, or I’m going to be richer.” George chuckled. You were confused but passed it off as nothing. 

Fred followed behind you and Ginny. He was struggling to get the nerve to confess to you. It had nothing to do with the bet. You were one of the greatest people to ever enter his life, and he didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. He also knew that he owed it to himself to tell you the truth. In his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Your smile brightened up his day, and your laugh filled him with warmth. He was falling in love with you, and now he needed to find a way to tell you. Earlier, you had been so happy around him, and he panicked. What if you were just being friendly? You two are friends, so that would make sense. He wanted to tell you right then, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Gee, the pranking king himself was actually getting nervous? You were the only person who could do that to him. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a snowball hitting the side of his head. He heard your giggle and instantly knew that you were behind it. Soon, a full blown snowball fight was breaking out. You had hidden yourself behind a poorly made snow fort, and you were throwing snowballs in every direction. Fred saw this and made his move. He got behind your fort and shoved some snow into your jacket. You yelped at the sudden cold and turned around to face the culprit. “Fred!” you whined.

“Y/N!” he mocked back. You playfully smacked him and tried to shimmy the ice out of your coat.

He gushed at the sight of your bright red cheeks and your slightly blue lips. You were adorable. He was ready to kiss you right then and there, but his mother called out to tell the kids that dinner was ready. Disappointed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he felt in that moment. Eventually, the day came to a close. You sat up in your bed and thought about Fred. He was overly affectionate the whole day, minus during lunch. You thought a bit more about it, but realized that you would only be getting your hopes up. Eventually, you went to sleep with thoughts of the older ginger twin on your brain. 

The next morning, you ate breakfast and began to help Molly with decorating the house. You lost sight of the twins throughout the day. Your tasks were different, which meant that you hardly got to spend any time around Fred. A part of you thought that it was a positive thing, so that you could prevent yourself from thinking about what it would be like to be with him. Fred, however, was angry. He wanted to have tasks with you so he could finally make a move on you, but his mother was blocking him. 

When you had all concluded your tasks, you decided that you would take some time to yourself and catch up a bit on some reading. You got comfortable on the couch, and you began to read. You were so immersed that you missed the other body that appeared on the couch. He picked up your legs and placed them on his own.

“What are you reading?”

“A muggle book.”

“What’s it about?”

“Well that’s what I’m trying to figure out, hence the reason why I’m reading it.” He shyly laughed at your answer. He stayed silent for a while longer. He just watched you concentrate on the words that your eyes crossed over. Sometimes, he would see you smirk a bit. You were absolutely perfect. He watched as your eyebrows would raise occasionally, or your eyes would slightly gloss over when you forgot that blinking was necessary. You were his own goddess, and he wanted nothing more than to worship you. 

It was Christmas Eve when he made a fatal mistake. He got in trouble with his mother. He’s not sure exactly what happened, but he instantly regretted it. He had decided that there was nothing more romantic than a confession on Christmas Eve. He planned to sit by the fire with you. He was going to look into your eyes and tell you everything. If things worked out, then he was going to bring in the trusty mistletoe to seal the deal. Alas, he ruined his chances by picking a fight with his mother. She had enchanted the garden to be protected from the snowfall, which meant that the gnomes were pleasantly inhabiting the area. He was now going to have to spend hours throwing the buggers before he could return inside. He was heartbroken, but he thought that this was a sign. Clearly, the universe didn’t want you two together. 

You were surprised when Fred was nowhere in the house. You asked George where he was. He told you everything that happened. You instantly felt terrible for him. It was cold outside, plus the job was tortuous. You decided that the least you could do was help him, of course without Molly knowing. You snuck outside and saw him angrily throwing gnomes. You giggled at his pained expression. He really was not happy. You also thought this was the best time to get him back for all of the pranks he had been pulling. You crept up behind him and grabbed at his sides abruptly. He jumped and looked back at you in anger until he saw that it was you.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Secretly, I’m helping you. You’re welcome.” You smiled proudly at him. Then you grabbed one of the gnomes and swung him as far as you could. Fred was speechless. He just watched you, amazed at how perfect you are. He finally caught wind of his situation, and began throwing the gnomes again. After some time, he stopped and looked over at you.

“Hey Y/N can I talk to you abo-OUCH” he belted. You snapped your head in his direction to see what was wrong. You saw one of the gnomes with their teeth latched onto Fred’s ankle. Your worry faded almost instantly. You began to laugh uncontrollably. He just looked at you, annoyed by the fact that you were finding humor in his pain. He threw the gnome with all of his might. A couple of minutes past, but you still hadn’t stopped laughing. He eventually began to cave, and he started laughing as well. It was stupid but you apparently thought it was the funniest thing to happen. 

“I can’t believe you found that funny. Is my pain really that comedic?” He feigned sadness. 

“I’m sorry Fred, but you have to admit, that was hysterical. Only you would be bitten by a gnome.”

“You Y/N Y/L/N are absolutely ridiculous. It’s one of the many reasons I love you,” he said while chuckling. See, this is one of those moments where Fred didn’t actually comprehend the words that came out of his mouth. He only became aware when you went completely silent.

“You love me?” you asked shyly. 

“Uh, yeah. You know what Y/N? I am so in love with you. I have been for awhile now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. Just please, don’t let my feelings ruin us.”

“Fred. Stop. I love you too. How could I not? You’re smart, funny, kind, and you’re easy on the eyes. I just never thought that you would see me as anything more than a friend.”

“Please, let me kiss you.” He was desperate to be as close to you as possible.

“What are you waiting for?” You smirked at him. He pulled you into a kiss full of passion. It told you everything he wanted to say. Fred pulled away from you first, although not by choice.

“Son of a-” He was yelling. Your confusion disappeared as you peaked down. 

You started laughing again at the sight of another gnome, this time on the other ankle.

“Only you, Frederick Gideon Weasley, would be bitten by two gnomes in one night.”

By the time you two had finished with the garden, it was time to go to bed. Both of you exhausted. Lucky for the both of you, George and Ginny had already fallen asleep so you wouldn’t have to deal with their interrogation. In the morning, however, George was met with a very happy brother.

“You, my dear brother, owe me 10 galleons.” George was astonished. He was worried that his twin wasn’t going to do it. When you walked down the stairs, Fred pulled you in for a kiss, almost as if to prove his point. George handed over the galleons.

“This, my dear, is going towards our first real date.” You smiled and agreed, giddy at the thought of finally going on a date with Fred. Ginny caught the end of this conversation and gasped.

“Is this a Christmas miracle, or am I dreaming. Y/N, you need to tell me everything right this instant!” You pouted slightly at Fred as his little sister dragged you away for all of the juicy details.

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part Two

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting and injury, weapons, blood and gore, brief mention of a mutilated animal corpse, minor character death, description of trauma and mental illness, brief mention of suicide, mentions of murder, satanic themes and ritual, etc. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter does contain graphic and explicit themes regarding violence, trauma, and death. Please do not read if this will harm you. This is your final warning.

word count: 10,6k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

The nighttime is hushed, almost anxious as Minho maneuvers his way past gravestones and overgrown shrubbery. It’s almost like nature itself is too afraid of accidentally provoking the witch, sensing the torpedo of dark magic and violent sorrow stirring through his veins. He peers up at the crimson moon, grateful for the illumination it provides, and continues down his path—ignorant of the cold air bleeding into his flesh. 

Minho knows this is probably not the best time for a visit, aware that his ex-covenmates are likely plotting some sort of mission to overthrow him, but he doesn’t care—he can’t care anymore. A part of him, the shameful, guilty part of his mind. actually hopes they will succeed, at least then, he would no longer have to endure the pain that comes with bearing this black magic. He can feel its poison rushing through his veins, seering his body from the inside out, killing his soul over and over and over again… 

But isn’t this what he wanted? Revenge? Retribution? Minho performed that spell to hurt the very friends that hurt him—to hurt Mark, and he got his wish… so why does it feel like the world is caving in around him, swallowing him whole? 

Once he reaches his destination, Minho collapses to his knees, unable to bear the weight of his burdens. His eyes burn with tears, but he doesn’t allow himself to cry. A silent gust of wind strokes his cheeks, painting his skin red with bitterness and anger. He welcomes the cold air, accepting the punishment, before lifting his hand to splay his fingers against the even colder surface of the headstone. 

“I’m sorry…” Minho whimpers, “It didn’t have to be like this…” 

The silence heightens his anguish—deepens the wounds in his heart. 

If he could take it all back, he would… but he can’t. 

“I wish you were here, noona…” 

His murmur is lost to the wind, but it doesn’t matter. He climbs back to his feet before sparing one final glance at the burial place of his lost friend. After a deep inhale and a wordless goodbye, Minho turns and hastily begins back toward the mausoleum. 

He was allowed this one moment of weakness—now he must get back to the horrible reality he manifested for himself. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Can you be any more obvious…?” 

Mark quickly awakens from his mindless trance, discovering, to his dismay, Dahyun looking down at him with a single raised, all-knowing eyebrow. He fakes a cough into his elbow before shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?... You literally haven’t taken your eyes off of her since we met up in the forest.” 

Heat immediately rises to Mark’s cheeks. As if on instinct, his eyes trail back to his subject of interest, watching as you wipe the sweat from Jaebeom’s girlfriend’s forehead and neck before shifting to do the same to Felix. It’s such a simple action, but you somehow look so ethereal—almost like an angel sent from heaven. 

He curses himself for his own cheesiness, then releases a defeated sigh. 

“We got into a pretty big fight earlier.” 

“Then don’t you think you should—I don’t know—talk to her instead of staring her down like a creep?” 

“I think the last thing she wants to do is talk to me.” Mark drags a hand through his hair. “I… said some really stupid shit in the heat of the moment. She probably hates me.” 

Dahyun scoffs, “God, you are such a fucking idiot.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you need to get your ass over there and apologize to that girl.” 

Her harsh tone doesn’t falter beneath his glare, nor does her tenacious expression as the two proceed with their silent staring contest. After a minute or two, Dahyun breaks off the competition with a long, heavy sigh. Her eyes are soft when she looks back at him, and suddenly Mark finds the dried mud on his shoes a lot more interesting. 

“Mark, anyone can see how much you care about her—how much she cares about you.” Even when a gentle hand caresses his shoulder, the witch keeps his attention to the floor. “(Y/N) could never hate you—no matter how much stupid shit you pull.” She snickers, “And you pull a lot of stupid shit, so that has to account for something.”

He can’t help the amused chuckle that falls from his own lips. 

“Thanks, Dubu.” Mark says, tilting his head to finally meet the warmth of her gaze. 

“She’s a good one—a really good one, Mark.” The wolf hums, “Don’t let it be your fear that pushes her away.” She doesn’t give him a chance to reply further, pacing to a nearby corner to join a conversing Bang Chan and Yugyeom. 

Sparing the wolf trio one final glance, Mark musters up the remaining courage he has left and pushes from his perch against the kitchen countertop. He forces himself to walk in your direction—each step releasing more butterflies into the confines of his stomach. Once he reaches you, close enough to touch your turned back, he almost chickens out, content with spending the rest of the night watching you like hawk, but the sound of Felix’s breathy voice locks him in place: 

“—Channie-hyung and I have always wanted to go to Chicago… Is-Is it as windy as they say?” 

“Even windier.” You say with a laugh. “I can’t tell you how many scarves I lost, and don’t get me started on how freaking cold the winters are.”

Felix laughs too, although it resonates as more of a wheeze than anything. 

You shrug, “It’s a gorgeous city though—probably my most favorite place I’ve ever lived.” 

“Then why did you leave? If you loved it so much?” 

Mark’s interest piques when he notices how your figure grows tense at the young boy’s croak. He’s heard his fair share of stories of your heartfelt time in the Windy City, but he never quite figured out why you ultimately decided to move to Moon Dye Bay. You’ve always been reluctant to reveal certain details from your past, especially regarding your time in the foster system, but even then Mark has been able to pry the worst memories from your brain. 

This subject, however, has been a brick wall. 

“Because I couldn’t stay.” You finally answer, “It’s complicated, but something happened and basically I—” 

“(Y/N)?” 

He silently cusses as Felix interrupts your explanation, but his annoyance dissipates at the panicked expression etched along the teenager’s sweaty face. 

“What is it, Felix?” You shift your position on his bedside to better face the boy, leaning forward to place a gentle hand on his forehead. Mark can only imagine how hot the skin is to the touch. 

Felix’s words crack as they leave his lips, slicing at the witch’s heart like a dagger: 

“Am… Am I gonna die?”

“Of course not.” You immediately say, but Mark can sense the uneasiness in your tone. “Everyone is doing everything they can to help you, okay?... You’re gonna get through this, and one day you and your brother are gonna go see Chicago yourselves and try not to get blown away into the next century.” 

Felix sleepily chuckles, “Thanks, (Y/N).” 

“You should get some sleep.” The moment the command leaves your lips, Felix is already closing his eyes and diving headfirst into dreamland. Not wanting to startle you, Mark waits a couple seconds—partly to give you time to regain your composure, and partly to give himself time to think of what to say. However, he doesn’t have much of a choice when you suddenly turn, growing aware of his presence. A frown overtakes your face, and he instantly regrets ever leaving his countertop. 

“Did you need something?” 

“No—yes, I mean—shit.” Mark buries a hand in his tresses to tug at his roots, attempting to juggle between putting together the right spoken words and reminding his body to breathe. “(Y/N), I—” 

“If you came to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.” He helplessly watches as you rise from the bed before tossing your used rag on a nearby table. “I think you made yourself pretty clear back at my apartment.” 

“I shouldn’t have said what I said—” Before you can storm away, Mark latches his fingers around your wrist. “—please. Just give me a chance to explain.” 

Your shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh, but you make no move to tear away from his grip and he takes it as a chance to continue: 

“After my mom died, I was so fucking angry…” Mark notices your surprised gaze when you lift your head, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “I was angry at the world, at her, at myself… and when my magic began to show up, things got a whole lot worse.” He shakes his head, “I thought about just ending it—jump into the bay or maybe drink myself to death—but then I met…” 

“Then you met Jackson.” 

“He taught me how to deal with the anger—to use it as a tool, not a weapon.” His eyes begin to burn at the countless memories that reel through his mind. “It was because of him I learned how to control my powers, and I was able to bring the coven together—hell, he was the one who told them to nominate me as Regent, which right now, seemed like the worst fucking decision on the planet.” 

Mark takes a moment to blink away his tears before taking a seat on an empty cot. He still can’t find it in himself to glance at your face, keeping his eyes trained to the wooden flooring. 

“But when Jackson had an idea, there was no stopping him.” He chuckles sarcastically, “The bastard was as stubborn as a goddamn mule.” 

“What happened to Jackson, Mark?” Your voice is both a sweet lullaby and a screeching siren against his ears. “How did he die? Really?” 

“The initial plan was to infuse enough magic into Jackson’s werewolf form so his venom would be lethal to the Primes, or at the very least, to Jinyoung. It all went smoothly in the beginning, I was able to channel enough power to complete the transformation… but something went wrong—

“—Jackson was different when he shifted. He was ruthless… He didn’t want to just kill the Primes—he wanted to slaughter every vampire along with those who protect the secrets of their existence… no matter if they were witch, werewolf, human—they all deserved to die…

“The combination of his determination and the bloodlust drove him fucking mad… If Jaebeom hadn’t ripped out his heart, there’s telling what he would have done—who he would have killed…” 

Mark leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, attempting to hide his shame beneath the curl of his bangs. “—Jaebeom may have dealt the final blow, but Jackson died because the dark magic I used turned him into a monster—he’s dead because of me…” 

Silence encompasses the room like a vice grip to the throat. For a moment, Mark believes you left him, too disgusted and ashamed to even breathe the same air as him, but the entrance of your worn boots into his vision proves otherwise. The image is replaced by your face when you kneel in front of his broken figure, laying your hands over each bicep. He notices your touch is gentle, but not hesitant, and warm—always so warm. 

“You can’t blame yourself for his death, Mark.” Mark doesn’t realize he’s crying until you wipe a tear from his cheek. “How could you have known what that spell would do? You couldn’t have—”

“Magic always comes with price—especially dark magic.” He whispers, unable to hold back more liquid sadness as it trails down his skin. “(Y/N), if I ever lost you the same way I lost Jackson, my mom, I—” 

Mark’s voice cuts out into a sob, and once your arms wind around his form, he completely breaks, releasing every ounce of repressed sadness and despair and pain into the crook of your neck. He knows he’s selfish for melting into your embrace—for consuming your comfort like a demon expelled from the heavens—but he doesn’t care. 

When you guide his eyes to meet your own, Mark can spot the glassiness of your own orbs in the artificial light—along with enough compassion and ardor to send another flood of tears down his face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” You affirm, your tone unwavering and stern. “I’m here—and no matter how many times you fall, I’m gonna be here to pick you up…

“I’m here, Mark… Do you understand me?” 

He nods with a sniffle, tightly squeezing your hands between his own. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You smile at his apology. 

“I’m sorry too… for everything.” 

“Just… No more secrets. For real, this time.” 

“For real, this time.” Mark’s heart rate picks up when he suddenly notices how close his face is to yours. From this angle, he can count the constellations glistening within your eyes and map the delicate curves of your facial features. If he were to lean just an inch closer, just one tiny inch, his lips would be on your own—

“Sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue.” At Yugyeom’s statement, you and Mark immediately wrench away from one another, almost as if having been caught engaging in forbidden territory. Mark pretends he doesn’t miss the weight of your hands inside his own as he rises from the cot, making sure to put an appropriate amount of distance between his and your shoulders. 

He clears his throat before humming, “What’s going on?” 

“Chan wants to go and find Chaeyoung’s body.” Although Yugyeom’s face remains neutral, Mark can see the sadness lingering within his eyes at the mention of his fallen packmate. “He doesn’t remember exactly where she was, so him, Dahyun, and I are going to search the forest.” 

You immediately shake your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sunrise isn’t for at least another hour, and we have no way of knowing Youngjae broke the curse yet.” 

“I’m with (Y/N) on this one, Gyeom.” Mark agrees, “We’re safest here in the bunker.” 

“We can’t just leave her out there. I mean, she—” Yugyeom cuts himself off with a heavy sigh, before continuing in a softer tone, “You know how it feels to lose someone, hyung… Chaeyoung is—was… our family.” 

Mark takes a moment of silence to ponder, conflicted between his common sense and Yugyeom’s pleading gaze. As you said, sunrise is an hour away—but Youngjae, the coven and the Primes should have overthrown Minho by now, right? Plus, he literally blew Changbin’s head off with that shotgun. There’s no way his body could regenerate that quickly… 

“We’re all staying together.” He finally says, moving toward the kitchenette to grab his weapon from its perch on the counter. “And if anything seems shady, it’s an immediate retreat.” 

Yugyeom delivers a nod before heading off to gather the other wolves. Mark moves toward the bunker exit, but is stopped by your form. A heavy sigh cascades from his lips—just from your expression, he knows this conversation isn’t going to go his way. 

“(Y/N)—” 

“If you’re gonna tell me I can’t go with you, don’t even bother.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s too dangerous…” 

“If someone tells me that one more goddamn time—” He can’t help the tiny smile that spreads across his face at the sassy way you roll your eyes. And he doesn’t protest when you move to follow Dahyun up the ladder. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Youngjae inhales a deep breath, taking the moment to feel his lungs expand, before releasing the air in an even deeper exhale. Even with the relaxation attempt, his body remains tense and his thoughts disorderly. He can’t help but feel as if Minho is waiting somewhere in the darkness of the crypt, ready to pounce on him like a predator to its prey. 

Would he toy with his catch first? Or would he skip the pleasantries and go right in for the kill? 

A hand appears on his shoulder, wrenching Youngjae from his morbid daydream. He angles his head to meet Lia’s concerned gaze and immediately tries to mask his fear beneath an expression of indifference. Unsurprisingly, the female witch sees right through his facade:

“I’ve known you practically my whole life, Youngjae. Whatever it is, you can’t hide it from me.” 

His shoulders sag in defeat as a sigh blows past his lips. 

“I’m just… worried about Mark-hyung. He’s powerless out there.”

“Mark is smart—he’ll know what to do if he finds himself in trouble.” 

“And if he doesn’t?... I-I mean, what if Minho or Changbin found him before he could warn the pack? He could be dead for all we know—” 

Lia silences his desperate quip with a shake of her head, “You shouldn’t think like that right now—” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” Youngjae runs a frustrated hand through his hair before gesturing toward the main exit of their underground penitentiary. “Even with yours and Jisung’s energy, I don’t have enough power to take down the barrier spell.” 

“Help is on the way—” 

“How do you know that for sure?” 

Lia remains silent, simply continuing to stare at Youngjae. He feels almost uncomfortable beneath her gaze, resisting the urge to shrink back and become one with the shadows. 

“I don’t know… but I have faith.” She murmurs after a brief moment. “We’ve lost a lot, but I still believe that we’ll all somehow manage to come out of this alive. You should try doing the same.” 

With that, Lia leaves to speak with a dangerously quiet Jisung. Youngjae spares the pair a single glance before heading toward the crypt entryway. A single beam of moonlight illuminates the exit stairway, almost as if mocking him about his inability to escape the dingy prison. 

Youngjae knows Lia is right—of course she’s right. Worrying about the possible pitfalls of this plan won’t help him, or Mark, or anyone. He can only pray that his mentor safely found his way out of the cemetery and is sending backup right this very moment. 

He needs to have hope, if nothing else. 

“What if we somehow lure Minho down here?” Youngjae’s thoughts quiet at Lia’s suggestion, angling his head to meet her gaze. “Technically Youngjae just needs to touch him to siphon his magic… so why don’t we bring him to us?” 

“Minho-hyung won’t step past the barrier.” Jisung dissents, dragging his fingers through his already tousled hair. “He probably knows we’re planning something against him, so there’s no way he’ll believe whatever ruse we try to pull.” 

“Then we have no choice. Youngjae, are you sure you can’t take down the spell?” 

Youngjae sullenly shakes his head. 

“Is there something else you can siphon? Maybe the crypt itself?” 

“The crypt was built by humans.” He answers, “I can only draw power from the supernatural—”

“Then it’s a good thing my dear brother and I weren’t turned into superwolf bait.” 

Youngjae, along with the other witches, nearly leaps a foot in the air at the sudden voice. He whirls around to face the stairwell, which to his surprise, is now occupied by the last person he ever expected to see: 

Im Jaebeom. 

Jisung chokes, scurrying backward into the shadows as the hybrid approaches the trio. After taking purchase against the doorway, he offers his signature sly smirk. 

“Evening, Harry Potter and friends… Funny meeting you down here.” 

“Now is not the time for games, hyung.” Youngjae breathes a sigh of relief as Jinyoung’s voice echoes throughout the stone walls. Seconds later, he comes hustling down the staircase before shoving Jaebeom out of the way. The vampire then peers into the crypt, his gaze burning with the determination of a man at war. “Is anyone hurt?” 

“No. We’re okay.” Lia steps forward. “If you’re here, I’m guessing Mark reached the wolf pack?” 

“Your guess is correct.” Jinyoung nods, placing a hand against the invisible doorway. “My brother and I will do everything we can to help disarm the rogue, but I think it’d be best to free you all first.” 

Youngjae joins the conversation. “I can take down the barrier spell, but I’ll need to draw energy from one of you to do so.” 

“Let’s do this quickly then.” Jinyoung goes to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt, but is halted by his immortal companion. Surprise filters through Youngjae’s veins as Jaebeom shrugs the leather jacket from his shoulders with a huff: 

“With my luck, he’ll drain you dry and I’ll have to deal with this voodoo fucker myself. I think it’s best we use my energy—sorry not sorry.” 

“Alright, then.” Youngjae hums, “I’ll need you to push through the barrier just enough that I can touch you… It’s gonna hurt. A lot.” 

“Good thing I’m a sadomasochist.” Jaebeom snickers at his brother’s unamused expression, “Too much?” 

“Move your hand through that goddamn barrier before I throw you to the superwolf myself.” 

The hybrid rolls his eyes, but follows Jinyoung’s instructions and proceeds to force his limb past the invisible blockade. He remains silent, but Youngjae can spy the uncomfortable twitch of his eyebrow and the tension along his stone-cold features. Blood begins to bud along his knuckles like a patch of blooming roses before flowing down his pale skin the more he presses against the barrier.

The siphoner raises his hand in preparation. “Just a bit more.” 

A mere couple seconds later, Youngjae feels Jaebeom’s bloody flesh brush against his own. The skin-to-skin contact is slight, but enough, allowing the hybrid’s energy to spread through his veins like wildfire. Youngjae almost cries in relief as the magic conquers his entire body—a new kind of hope sparking somewhere within his chest. 

“Phasmatos Siprum… Emnis Abortum…” Youngjae murmurs, positioning both hands against the invisible wall. He feels it crumbling beneath his fingertips, unable to withstand the power flowing through his figure. “Fasila Quisa Exilum San… Fasila Quisa Exilum San…”

A proud grin stretches along his features as the barrier buckles, then completely shatters. With Lia and Jisung in tow, Youngjae beelines out of the crypt and into the stairwell where Jaebeom, who’s cleaning the crimson from his knuckles, and Jinyoung reside. The latter nods, which Youngjae is quick to return. 

“‘Kay, they’re free… Now what?” 

“Now we find Minho and end this once and for all.” Lia answers, not sparing the hybrid a glance as she dashes up the stairs. Youngjae and the rest of the group try to keep up with the female witch as best as they can, not faltering until they reach the surface. The cemetery is quiet when they emerge from the crypt, Youngjae notices—almost too quiet. 

He takes a short moment to breathe in the fresh night air before turning to a tense Jinyoung, “I need to get close enough to siphon Minho’s magic to perform the counterspell. You think you and your brother can find me a way in?” 

Jinyoung nods. “You can count on us.” 

“Stay close…” Lia warns with a sigh, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard already knows we’re free—” 

Lightning suddenly strikes a mere few feet from where Lia is standing, earning a chorus of screams and surprised gasps from the witch trio. Youngjae watches as Jinyoung speeds forward, grabbing Lia just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp by a second bolt. With Jisung at his side, Youngjae quickly takes shelter underneath the overhang of a nearby tomb as even more lightning bombards the earth. He surveys the area, searching for the perpetrator responsible for the weather abnormalities. 

“Minho!...” Lia screeches from behind a large tree, her tone far less than friendly. “Quit being a fucking coward! Come out here and face us goddamnit!...” 

Youngjae huddles closer to Jisung as the wind suddenly picks up, ripping at his hair and clothing like a vengeful spirit. He moves to speak to his younger companion, but his words die on his tongue as the subject of the hour waltzes into view. The heavy gusts don’t seem to affect him, though that’s no surprise since the wretched weather is his doing. 

Minho smirks, “They say lightning never strikes one place twice… You must be really special then, Lia.” 

“Oh fuck off! We’re tired of playing your stupid games!” 

“This only ends one way, Minho—” Jinyoung says, cautiously moving from Lia’s side to approach the powerful witch. His steps, however, are halted by another vicious bolt of electricity. Youngjae attempts to make out Jaebeom’s form through the blurriness of his wind-induced tears, but the hybrid is nowhere to be found. “—so we can do it the easy way, or the hard way! The choice is yours!” 

“Last I checked, this isn’t your fight, Prime.”

“It became my fight the moment you threatened my family and my friends!” 

Minho snickers, “Trust me, I had every intention of ridding this town of you and your brother’s filth.” 

“Was it also your intention to kill an innocent werewolf girl!?” Youngjae’s heart drops at the vampire’s following statement. “Son Chaeyoung is dead because of Changbin—because of you!” 

“Every war has its casualties.” 

“And what of Felix!? Will his death just be another trivial loss in your obsession for revenge!?” 

This time, Youngjae notices the cockiness melt from Minho’s features into something akin to trepidation. The wailing of the wind picks up to a screech, nearly drowning out the dark-haired witch’s weak inquiry, “What are you talking about?”

“Felix was bitten… and is dying as we speak!” Jinyoung shakes his head frantically. “Do you believe he deserves this, Minho!? Do you believe Chaeyoung deserved to die!?... You can fix this—make this right!” 

Minho remains silent, and for a moment, Youngjae wonders if the witch will actually come to his senses and call off this whole ordeal. But just as soon as it appeared, the pained look along his features transitions into something more sinister.   

“We’re all gonna die someday, so what does it even fucking matter!?” 

“Are you hearing yourself!?” Lia screams from behind a nearby tree, “Look what you’ve become, Minho! How would Nayeon see you right now!” 

“Don’t bring her into this!” Minho’s hiss blends with the moans of the wind. Massive raindrops begin to pelt down against the earth, immediately soaking Youngjae to the bone. For the first time, he notices the dark witch’s position in relation to his own. Realistically, Youngjae can be at Minho’s side in mere milliseconds, before he has a chance to blink. If only he can get him to move a bit closer… 

As if reading his thoughts, Jinyoung attempts to coax the witch another step forward. 

“Please, Minho… I don’t wish to hurt you.”

The latter shakes his head with a chuckle. “It’s too fucking bad that you think you can.” 

Minho raises his hand, harshly forcing the vampire down against the muddy earth. Youngjae watches in horror as Jinyoung’s limbs begin to contort and rearrange against his own will—the sound of cracking bones and the vampire’s pained groans filling his ears like a haunting melody. He forces his gaze away from the gruesome sight and prepares to advance on the dark witch, but Jisung stops him with a hand to his shoulder: 

“Not yet, hyung.” 

“But Jinyoung—” 

“Trust me.” His eyes are wide with determination—Youngjae can’t remember a time he’s ever seen Jisung so fierce. “I have a plan. Wait here until my signal.” 

Though filled with confusion, Youngjae does as the young witch requests and stays in place while Jisung himself carefully maneuvers his way through gravestones and buildings, attempting to remain out of sight. A sudden burst of lightning cracks through the atmosphere, and at first, Youngjae fears Jisung has been caught, but quickly realizes Minho has his sights set on another party: 

“I was wondering when you’d join the fun—I looked forward to tearing your bitch-ass apart.” 

“I would say I’m flattered, but I rather like my ass.” Jaebeom saunters across a nearby rooftop. In the midst of the storm, he almost reminds Youngjae of a superhero—or more likely in his case, the psychotic supervillain. “Look, you’ve had your fun, kid. Now I suggest you release my brother and cut out all this petty-teenage bullshit before I break your body in places you never thought possible.” 

“That’s it?... And here I thought you’d want the antidote?” 

Jaebeom’s face darkens. 

“...So there is a cure?” 

“Of course. Every spell has its loophole.” Minho finally lowers his hand, ceasing the painful reconstruction of Jinyoung’s skeleton. Youngjae watches in confusion as the former retracts something from his pocket—some sort of vial, it seems—and offers it toward the hybrid. “The blood which Changbin drank to turn—it’ll heal anyone fallen victim to his bite.” 

“You better hand that over before I rip your teeth from your skull.” Jaebeom growls darkly, hopping down from his overhead perch.

The witch shakes his head, “Not so fast, Mr. Wolf… See, there was only so much left—enough to heal one lucky soul.” 

“You’re a sick fucking bastard,” Jaebeom spits. “You wanted this to happen—”

“Your little bloodsucking girlfriend is dying, isn’t she?” Minho tosses the vial toward the hybrid, who effortlessly catches it between two trembling fingers. “If you want to save her life, then I suggest you go before the venom does its job.” 

“Jaebeom-hyung, don’t—!” Jinyoung gasps, slithering across the muddy earth like an earthworm lost to the world. 

“You know she doesn’t have much time—” 

“We can’t do this without you—we need you!... I need you, hyung!”  

Jaebeom, staring at the tiny container in his grasp, doesn’t reply to his incapacitated companion. Youngjae curses the smirk that spreads across Minho’s face—a sign of victory—and attempts to spot Jisung and Lia somewhere between the ferocious raindrops. He has no such luck, and instead decides to pray for a miracle instead. 

“If you hadn’t fucked around with the few people I care about, I might have actually liked you.” Jaebeom murmurs with a sigh before tucking the vial into his pocket and sending the dark witch a malicious sneer. “Well isn’t that too fucking bad.” 

Youngjae leaps almost ten feet in the air as lightning strikes for what seems like the millionth time, although this time, it’s inches from where Minho is standing. After searching the area, Youngjae discovers Lia and Jisung across the way, hands clasped, eyes bright with passion, uttering some sort of offensive charm. Minho attempts to sprint in the opposite direction, but Jaebeom easily tackles the witch before he can get far. 

“Now Youngjae-hyung! Do it now!” 

At Jisung’s cue, Youngjae takes off into the rain. The bitter feel of Mother Nature’s tears against his skin quickens his movements, wanting nothing more then to end this hurricane, both literally and figuratively, once and for all. He reaches Minho in what seems like hours and hurries to grab his wrist—but just like the tides during a storm, the tables quickly turn. 

At the wave of Minho’s hand, Jaebeom goes flying across the cemetery, crashing into a stone statue and collapsing into the resulting rumble. White-hot pain spreads through Youngjae’s veins like a poison, freezing his muscles and immobilizing his limbs from any further movement. He collapses to the ground, where mud immediately clings to his clothing.

Minho rises to his feet before stepping on Youngjae’s hand with a cackle, “Don’t you fuckers get it!? I’m untouchable! You can’t fucking win!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Minho…” Youngjae chuckles, curling his fingers around the tread of the dark witch’s boot. Minho realizes his mistake as soon as the former’s hand begins to glow, foolishly attempting to squirm from his touch. 

Thunder roars in the distance as Youngjae grins in triumph: 

“Because unlike you… we’re not alone.” 

The last thing Youngjae sees before he loses consciousness is a flash of white and the bewildered face of the dark witch as he collapses beside him.   

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I take it Mark apologized?...” You nearly leap out of your own skin at the sudden inquiry. With a less than agitated frown, you turn to acknowledge the culprit for your almost heart attack. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear some of these supernaturals have powers of teleportation or something… 

“Goddamnit, Dahyun. Not all of us have superwolf hearing.” 

“Sorry, dearie. Force of habit.” The she-wolf offers an apologetic smile, moving forward to hook her arm with your own. She allows Yugyeom, Chan and Mark to gain a bit of distance ahead before repeating again, “So Mark…?” 

“We both talked it out and apologized… so everything’s okay now.” You hum—the tiny fib leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Truthfully, your encounter with Mark left you conflicted. Of course, you’re more than glad he finally opened up about his past, and even more glad that he trusts you enough to reveal his lingering feelings of trauma, but there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room—one involving his dead best friend and the fact you can talk to him beyond the grave. 

You should have told him then and there—right after you promised to abolish all secrets—but something inside you couldn’t do it… and you don’t know why. 

“Why are you so interested in Mark and I’s relationship anyway?” You utilize your curiosity as a distraction from the guilt breathing down your neck, angling your neck to peer at Dahyun’s side profile. “Is there… history between you two?” 

“No, no—nothing like that. Mark and I have just known each other since we were kids. Our moms were close friends, so Mark, Yugyeom and I pretty much grew up together.” 

“He never told me that.” 

“Don’t take it personal, sweetheart. Mark doesn’t like to talk about his past—” Dahyun sighs, “—too many bad memories between his dad and the bullshit that happened with his mom. He’ll come around eventually… he just needs more time.” 

“I know his mom passed when he was a teenager, but Mark never actually mentioned how she died…” You bite your lip, sending a curious glance to your wolf companion. “It’s really not fair to ask you, but—” 

“Mark found her in their own kitchen with her entire throat ripped open.” Dahyun’s blunt answer leaves your throat dry, unable to speak another word if you wanted to. “The sheriff ruled it as an animal attack, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out what really happened.” 

Your heart sinks, and you choose not to say anything further. 

“Dahyun! (Y/N)! Don’t get too far behind!” Chan’s voice echoes from somewhere up ahead. With the black of night beginning to fade, you can just make out his, Yugyeom, and Mark’s silhouettes a couple dozen feet away. Dahyun gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before releasing your conjoined limbs to catch up with her packmates. You do the same, meeting an armed Mark about halfway. 

His eyes glitter with concern underneath the fading starlight. 

“Everything okay…?” 

“Yeah, Dahyun and I were just catching up.” You inhale a deep breath before releasing it in an even heavier exhale. “But there is something I need to talk to you about—about Jackson and the whole resurrection thing.” 

Mark shakes his head, “You have every right to make your own decisions, (Y/N), but I wish you and Youngjae would have come to me.” 

“I know that, but it was more complicated than that—” You try to gather your thoughts while also attempting to make sense of your words. “I couldn’t tell you because, well—because Jackson told—” 

“Mark-hyung! We’ve got an issue!” Yugyeom’s warning immediately cuts off your explanation. Mark shoots you an apologetic glance before hurrying the two of you forward to join the wolf trio. It only takes seconds for you to distinguish the cause of the beta’s distress. 

A deer carcass lays precariously on the forest floor, and albeit it’s practically torn to shreds, you can just make out a single word carved into its bloody flesh: 

Die. 

“Shit—we need to go. Now.” 

“We’ve already come this far. Chae should be around here somewhere.” Chan ignores Mark’s directive, stepping over the animal corpse to traverse further through the forest. He barely takes a step before the witch is grabbing his wrist. “Let me go, hyung.” 

“Don’t be an idiot.” 

“Don’t tell me what to—”

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you.” Dahyun quietly hisses, “Listen.” 

You try to do as the she-wolf says, but all that meets your ears is the combination of your own labored breathing and uneven pulse. Judging by the confused expression along Mark’s face, he’s probably dealing with the same situation. 

“What is it?” 

“We’re being watched.” Yugyeom answers Mark’s inquiry in a whisper. “Mark, you and (Y/N) need to find somewhere to hide right now—Chan, Dubu, get ready to fight—”

As soon as the command leaves Yugyeom’s lips, Mark takes you by the arm and drags you behind a broad tree trunk. You fish Jinyoung’s pocket knife from your pocket while Mark cocks his shotgun in preparation. Who knew the day would come that you’d actually be grateful for the presence of two dangerous weapons…  

“If anything goes wrong—you run like hell, got it?” 

You shake your head at Mark’s demand. “I’m not just going to leave you—”  

“Yugyeom! Above you!” At Chan’s warning, you’re suddenly shoved to the ground by the witch, watching in horror as a deranged Changbin descends from the treetops onto the beta himself. His skin is a sickly ashen shade, and his black veins so prominent it would make a nurse weep. There’s no human emotion left inside his dark eyes as he strikes Yugyeom over and over again with his lengthy sharp talons, tearing open his skin like a birthday present—he’s a complete animal. 

“Bin, stop!” Chan throws his arms around Changbin’s shoulders in an attempt to pull him from Yugyeom, winding a tight arm around his throat before thrusting a knee against his spine. “Think about what you’re doing!” 

With Dahyun’s assistance, the two wolves manage to separate the dark wolf from that of Yugyeom’s wounded self. Even so, Changbin clearly does not appreciate being stolen away from his prey. He easily escapes from Chan’s hold, landing a couple heavy hits against the latter’s nose before shoving him to the ground. Dahyun takes the moment to strike, bringing the dark wolf to kneel with a harsh kick to his knee, but the action does minimal damage. Changbin punts the she-wolf a dozen feet away as if she weighs nothing. You wince as Dahyun connects with a nearby tree trunk with a vocal thud before dropping to the ground with no movements of rejoining the fight. 

“Shit…” You curse to yourself, “They won’t be able to take him down by themselves—he’s too fucking strong.” 

“Watch your ears.”  You notice Mark aiming his gun toward the dark wolf, waiting for an opportunity with his finger on the trigger. At his discretion, you cover your ears just in time for him to fire a first and second shot. A ferocious growl echoes through the trees, spreading goosebumps across your flesh like wildfire. 

You watch both Chan and Yugyeom take advantage of Changbin’s distraction. The alpha delivers a swift, yet heavy hit against his wounded shoulder while the beta goes for his legs. Similar to Dahyun, they manage to pin Changbin to the forest floor. For a moment, you almost believe the fight has concluded in your team’s favor—but the tides shift. In the blink of an eye, Chan is impaled with a large jagged branch and sent tumbling into some foliage whereas Yugyeom is dealt punch after strike after kick, unable to escape the barrage of Changbin’s wrath. He eventually, like the former two, collapses to the earth and makes no move to rise. 

Changbin cracks his neck before stalking toward where you and your companion stand. 

“Mark—” 

“I got it!” Mark quickly feeds another couple shells into the shotgun barrel, cocks the weapon, then aims down sight. He manages to sink a bullet into your target’s abdomen, followed by another in his bicep, but Changbin merely releases an annoyed snarl and continues charging forward. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—(Y/N), move!” You leap out of the way just in time to avoid a powerful strike. Changbin’s hand splinters the trunk of the tree, sending pieces of bark in every direction. A particular shard catches the bridge of your nose, causing blood to warmly cascade down your skin. You quickly wipe the liquid from your right eye, ignoring the nausea fluttering inside your gut, before focusing back on the situation at hand. 

You look up in time to watch Mark swing his shotgun harshly against Changbin’s skull. Taking advantage of his disorientation, you rush forward to stab your pocket knife into the wolf’s back. Changbin practically roars in fury, angling backward to land a hit to your face before you have time to react. The force of his strike throws you to the ground, a sharp pain lingering in your left cheek. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Mark throws himself against Changbin, delivering hit after hit to anything and anywhere. Still, Mark’s human strength does little to outbeat the dark wolf, and you watch in horror as Changbin effortlessly pins the witch against his chest with a bloody hand around his throat.  You desperately search for something, anything, in hopes of saving Mark from whatever deadly fate awaits Changbin’s bloodlust, but fate doesn’t seem to be on your side.

“Changbin—please don’t do this!” You cry, praying to some type of deity that the wolf is sane enough to understand your words. Even so, your confidence is low, seeing as talking clearly had no effect during your last encounter, but you’re fresh out of options at this point. “You know this isn’t who you are!” 

To your surprise, Changbin actually answers, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Maybe not, but I know you don’t actually want to hurt anyone…” You cautiously rise to your feet with a shake of your head, wary of the tight hold Changbin currently has on Mark’s jugular. “Your thoughts are all sorts of fucked up right now because of the dark magic, so why don’t you just let Mark go and we can—” 

“Don’t you fucking get it! This fucker—” He yanks at Mark with more force than necessary, “—took everything from me! He took my pack, my alpha—the only people I ever felt safe with!” 

“I understand you—” 

“No, you don’t!” Changbin wails, “You can’t even imagine how I feel! How fucking hard it is to wake up in a world you know you’ll never belong! How much it fucking hurts just to go on and pretend like everything’s normal when it’s fucking not!” 

“Tell him it’s okay to feel angry—” You whirl your head around to find a seemingly exhausted, yet wild-eyed Jackson Wang at your side. “—but none of this was Mark’s fault.” 

You’re mortified at first, having never encountered the ghost anywhere outside your bedroom—but whether it’s the desperation etched along his features, or the flush of purple that overtakes Mark’s complexion—you quickly transfer back to reality: 

“Changbin, it’s perfectly normal to feel angry and cheated, but this wasn’t Mark’s fault—deep down, I think you know that.”

“What does it fucking matter anymore? I’m all alone anyways.” The pure agony etched along his face has your heart splitting in two. 

You’ve never seen a creature so strong and so powerful look so… vulnerable. 

“You said the exact same thing to me when we first met…” Jackson murmurs softly.

“You told Jackson you were alone at one point too…” 

An obvious wave of tense silence washes through the forest, making the beat of your heart that much more prominent in your ears. 

Changbin’s whisper is dark—dangerous. “How the fuck do you know that?” 

“Because… Because he’s here, Changbin.” You say, your eyes meeting Mark’s as the words leave your tongue. “You’re not alone because Jackson is still here.” 

You don’t know what kind of reaction you expected from your revelation, but it certainly is not the heinous laughter that spills from the dark wolf’s lips. 

“You must have lost your goddamn mind… Jackson-hyung is dead!” 

“Maybe physically, but his spirit still remains.” 

“You mean—” You turn to discover a bewildered Yugyeom unsteadily leaning against a tree, “—his… ghost? You—You can see his ghost?” 

You nod.   

Changbin sneers with a low growl. “I don’t fucking believe you.” 

“There’s a cliffside back along the bay about twenty miles from the lodge,” Jackson begins, his tone a blend of nostalgic and sorrowful. “Changbin and I used to go there to watch the full moon rise before we turned into our wolf forms… I-I’ve missed that so much…” 

“You and Jackson would always watch the full moon rise on a cliff overlooking the bay before you transitioned,” You repeat. “He says he misses those moments with you…”

“Stop it!” Changbin frantically shakes his head, “You’re lying!” 

“He’s here, Changbin… He’s really here.” You move forward again, more confidently this time, and raise your hands in a sympathetic gesture. “And the last thing he wants is for you to make the same mistakes he did, so please—let Mark go and let us help you…” 

It’s as if time freezes for a moment. Changbin seems to fight a battle with himself—countless emotions rushing through his teary eyes. You watch the dark wolf glance toward an unconscious Dahyun and Chan, then to a silent Yugyeom, before finally setting his focus back to you. You can only pray your face reflects the hope swirling throughout your veins—pray that Changbin will do the right thing. 

To your delight, the blackness of his veins gradually begin to fade and the sharp claws protruding from his fingertips recede. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until Changbin finally retracts his hold from Mark’s neck. You’re quick to take the unsteady witch in your own arms before sending the now normal wolf a thankful smile. 

“Thank you, Changbin…” 

He nods shyly before wiping a couple tears from his cheeks. You watch as Yugyeom cautiously makes his way toward the younger boy, murmurs something, then tugs the latter into a tight embrace that pulls even more liquid sadness from his eyes. The sight has your heart melting into a puddle of warmth—the emotion doesn’t last though, not when Mark’s dark croak enters your ears:

“You… can see Jackson…” 

You shrug sheepishly, “I wanted to tell you, but he said not to… He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he already had.” 

Mark remains silent. You try to search for his features for some kind of anger or disappointment, but are only awarded with his surface level blank stare. Worry flooding through your veins, you look to Jackson for any possible guidance, but the ghost merely shakes his head. 

After a couple tense seconds or so, Mark finally murmurs, “Jack… I—I’m so sorry. For everything.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jackson says immediately, “If only I had listened to you, then maybe things would have played out different.” 

“He says it wasn’t your fault—he should have listened to you.”

“We both made some pretty shitty mistakes.” Mark hums, “I miss you, man. So fucking much.” 

You don’t wait for Jackson to reply, already knowing his answer. 

“He misses you too, Mark. Just as much.”

“How is this even possible…?” You and Mark turn to find the shocked gaze of Yugyeom, who is closely followed by the despair of that belonging to Changbin. “Supernaturals can’t even see spirits, much less mortals…” 

“We never exactly figured that out. Jackson said he felt drawn to me from the Other Side—he kind of just showed up in my bedroom the night after Mina and Momo died.” 

“Any contact with the dead usually requires some sort of spell or medium.” Mark bites his lip in confusion. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, not even in any of my mother’s grimoires—”

“Jackson!” Your body grows rigid as Jackson suddenly collapses to the ground with a pained groan. You hurry forward, kneeling next to the man, and reach for his shoulder. The realization of his phantom existence hits you like a bag of bricks when your fingers phase through his form. You settle for calling his name again instead, “Jackson—what’s wrong?” 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Changbin stress from somewhere behind you, but your focus is completely on the ghost in question. 

Jackson lifts his head with a gasp, revealing a line of blood dripping from his nose. “I-It’s the witches!... They know about our plans—they’re trying to force me back to the Other Side—”

“(Y/N)?” 

You shake your head feverishly, “It’s, uh, it’s the witches on the Other Side—they don’t like Jackson crossing over, so they’re trying to bring him back…” 

Mark nods. “Witches, dead or alive, will do anything to maintain the balance of nature.” 

“(Y/N)—shit—I don’t have a lot of time—” Your chest tightens at the urgency behind Jackson’s words. “I know so much just went down, but—” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I won’t let you disappear again.” You affirm before climbing to your feet to face your new subject of interest. “Mark—I need you to perform the resurrection spell.” 

“Woah, wait—” Mark shakes his head, “(Y/N), I can’ t—” 

“If we don’t resurrect him now, then Jackson is gone forever!” Your warning spreads a new tension across the atmosphere, manifesting in the form of sullen and panicked expressions. “Please, Mark—we have a chance to bring him back!” 

“I can’t do the spell because I don’t have any magic…” Your heart sinks at Mark’s revelation. “Minho absorbed all my magical energy back at the graveyard… I’m so sorry, Jackson…” 

“Hold on, you told me that there’s different types of magic…” You push, “Can’t you draw energy from something? Like the forest, or the moon, or, or—”

“Or me.” You turn, discovering the speaker of the response to be none other than a determined Changbin. “Minho-hyung’s spell may be gone, but I can still feel the magical energy lingering through my body.” 

Mark hesitates, “I-I don’t know if it will work… and if something goes wrong—” 

“Do you want Jackson-hyung back or not?...” 

A moment of silence passes after Changbin’s question. You keep an eye on a repeatedly wincing Jackson, and the other on the witch’s face, attempting to decipher his thoughts inside the glow of his gaze. For a moment, you wonder if Mark will even provide an answer, until the words finally leave his lips: 

“Fuck the balance of nature. I’ll bring you back, Jackson—I promise.” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung stares at the sun as it gradually rises past the horizon, bathing his skin in a warm, celebratory light. His gaze wavers across the cemetery to the notorious mausoleum, where he watches Lia and Jisung carefully assist a barely conscious Youngjae past the doorway. After this crazy night, the siphoner definitely deserves a good, long rest. Then again, so does everyone else. 

He releases a heavy sigh before shifting away from the witch trio. After sparing one final glance to the sunrise, Jinyoung allows his feet to carry him through the early morning glow, past countless tombstones and other structures, and settles beside a second figure in front of a particular burial site. He silently reads the engravings along the headstone before addressing his companion without so much as a glimpse: 

“I assumed you would be halfway back to the bunker by now.” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, not that Jinyoung really expects him to. He peers at the hybrid through the corner of his eye, attempting to seek meaning beyond his blank features. Centuries later, Jinyoung still can’t predict the workings of Jaebeom’s inner thoughts. Especially when it comes to the situation at hand. 

“Mark called. Changbin is no longer affected by Minho’s spell.” He explains, “They’re also preparing a ritual to resurrect Jackson Wang—” 

“Tzuyu…?” 

Jinyoung’s chest tightens as the name falls from Jaebeom’s lips. 

“Their youngest, Ryujin, is looking after both her and Felix.”

“So she’s still alive…?” 

“It seems so.” 

A brief moment of silence passes between the pair. The earth grows brighter and brighter as the seconds roll by, reminding Jinyoung that time is a friend to no one. 

“Hyung, did you… truly switch off your humanity?” 

“I did, at first.” Jaebeom’s answer is quiet, and Jinyoung can detect the subtle hint of vulnerability hidden beneath his gruff tone. “But I guess I can never completely turn it off.” 

“It’s alright to feel, hyung—be it anger… or passion… or fear…” 

Jinyoung notices Jaebeom shift uncomfortably before glancing down at the glass vial in the palm of his hand. For once, he can actually distinguish the emotions present within the hybrid’s dark eyes. The knowledge only jabs at his heart. 

“Everything is taken care of, right?” 

“The night has ended, and Minho is safely sealed away in the crypt.” Jinyoung nods, “We live to see another day.”

He watches his companion tuck the precious vial into the pocket of his jeans before turning away from the headstone. Jinyoung is not sure where the urge comes from, but he abandons his perch, grabbing Jaebeom’s shoulder before he can leave the cemetery. He ignores the hybrid’s confused expression and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you for staying, hyung…” Jinyoung’s murmur is slightly muffled against the fabric of his jacket, but he knows his companion heard them loud and clear. 

Jaebeom hesitates for a moment, clearly taken aback by the sudden act, but eventually winds his arms loosely around Jinyoung’s back with a gentle murmur of his own:

“You will always be my family, Jinyoung… Always and forever…”  

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I’ve never used magic like this before, so I can’t promise this will work.” Mark glances to where he assumes Jackson’s spirit is located inside the white circle makeshifted out of a bag of flour Dahyun managed to find in a bunker cabinet, before glancing to the companion at his side. “You sure you’re up for this? It’ll feel like I’m literally sucking the life force out of your body…” 

Changbin nods, “If it means bringing Jackson-hyung back.” 

“Okay, then.” Mark turns to the surrounding crowd next, “In order to do this, I’ll need to lower the veil to the Other Side. This will create a temporary door that Jackson can pass through to physically enter our realm. Once he crosses over, he should become mortal again.” 

“Seems easy enough.” Dahyun snickers, although the sound is dry and forced. “Anything else we need to know?” 

“Whatever happens, do not enter the circle.” His eyes drift from the she-wolf to your silent form. As if sensing the scrutiny, your gaze connects with his own, and knowing he has your attention, Mark continues in a darker tone, “Just as spirits can pass into our realm, we can cross to the Other Side… so for the love of god, don’t do anything stupid.”

Your and Mark’s staring contest ceases when your head snapes toward the circle. Seconds later, you break the tense silence with a soft murmur, “Jackson says it’s getting worse. He can feel the witches trying to drag him back.” 

“Then I guess that’s our cue.” He sighs before nodding toward the circle one last time, “I’m gonna do my best, Jack. Just hold on.” 

With one final glance to the grimoire you gave him earlier, Mark inhales a deep breath and takes Changbin’s outstretched hand into his own. He closes his eyes, focusing every part of his brain on the electrifying sensation of the magical energy coursing through the wolf’s body. Bit by bit, he feels Changbin’s power bleeding into his own veins, awakening the slumbering supernatural nature of his soul. Once he’s sure enough he’s acquired enough magic, Mark opens his eyes and begins the incantation: 

“Vita mortem, mortem vita est… Partis inferioris velum, partis inferioris ante illum vetum…” Almost instantly, the wind picks up while the air grows uncomfortably cold. He ignores the violent shivers wracking through his limbs and proceeds to repeat the words as the temperature continues to drop. With each spoken syllable, Mark’s head becomes dizzy and his flesh feels as if it’s being scorched off, but he continues. 

No amount of pain could ever dull the hope of seeing his best friend alive once more.

“Holy shit—it’s actually working!” 

Mark doesn’t realize he had shut his eyes until he opens them, nearly yelping in delight when he discovers the image of said friend standing in the center of the white circle. Jackson looks no different than the day he last saw him, and he can’t decide if he wants to laugh out of irony or burst into tears. 

“The veil is down! I’m gonna start the spell to cross you over!” Mark yells over the howling of the wind, clutching Changbin’s hand tighter as he transitions to the next phase of the spell. “Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet ohnaz eespalit… Ohto eestanay as vazat esvet—fuck!” 

A brutal force comes down against his head, almost resembling that of a punch, before spreading hot fire down his neck and to the rest of his body. Mark doubles over with a wheeze, attempting to fight against the painful sensations by grounding himself in Changbin’s touch. However, as soon as the first wave concludes, a second, even more excruciating one follows. He feels as if someone is trying to crush his brain—to kill him from the inside out. 

“Mark-hyung! What’s wrong!?” 

“It’s the witches!...” Mark is thankful that Jackson answers Yugyeom’s panicked inquiry, “They’re trying to break the spell!” 

“Like… hell they will…” Mark hisses, righting himself with a pained groan before grabbing Changbin’s other hand. “I’m not going down without a fight—hold on!...” 

He jumps back into the spell, weakening the manipulated pain through the absorption of more of the wolf’s energy. Borderline high off the power, he pushes everything he has into the ritual, determined to see it through to the end. After a minute that passes like a decade, Mark detects a shift in the atmosphere, indicating the near completion of the spell, and shouts: 

“Jackson—get out of the circle! Get out now!” 

As if in slow motion, Mark watches Jackson quickly move to escape the white border. But just as soon as his toe brushes the edge, he is wrenched away and lifted from the ground. 

Dahyun cries, “What the hell is happening!?”

“They won’t let me cross over!” Jackson squirms and writhes, attempting to escape whatever invisible grip is holding him hostage. His efforts are futile, and he continues to rise higher and higher off of the ground. 

“Hang on, Jack!” Mark releases Changbin’s hands and raises his own palms in Jackson’s direction. However, the same torturous pain from before returns once more, hitting his nerves like a sledgehammer to a brick wall, and throws him to the earth. “Shit—no! H-He has to pass through the circle!” 

“(Y/N)! Don’t!” 

Mark raises his gaze at Dahyun’s shriek, only to watch in horror as you rush past the flour boundary and grab hold of Jackson’s hand. A blinding light immediately erupts from your clasped palms, expanding through the area until all Mark can see is white. 

After a long moment, his vision eventually returns, and he finds the forest completely silent. The temperature is no longer frigid, he notices, and the strain within his brain is gone. For a moment, Mark is filled with prowess, victorious at the fact he successfully carried out an ancient resurrection ritual, however, his triumph is temporary, especially when he notices your form laid motionless in Dahyun’s arms. 

“(Y/N)—fuck!” Mark hurries to where you lay, stealing your figure from the she-wolf to cradle you in his own hold. “Shit, shit, shit—she’s not breathing! Fucking goddamnit!” 

His panic only grows tenfold when he hears the murmur cascade from Dahyun’s lips: 

“Mark… where’s Jackson?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jaebeom scales the final rung of the ladder before making his way toward the corner where the snoozing trio resides. He moves cautiously, mindful not to awaken the young werewolf caretaker, yet eventually finds himself perched on the edge of a familiar cot. His heart thunders inside his chest, and he cannot tell if it’s out of anxiety or hope. Though at this moment, Jaebeom can really care less to find out. 

“It’s about time you showed up…” He winces at the broken husk of his companion’s voice, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “I thought you were actually going to leave me to die in the hands of a neurotic teenage wolf…” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond to her quip—he can’t find it in himself to do so. 

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow, “What’s with the face? Did you take down the witch or not?” 

“We did.” He hums, “The spell is broken.”

“Good thing—” The vampire pauses to cough, and the sound is like broken glass against his ears. “—you and your brother are safe for the eternity to come.” 

“Tzuyu… I found the cure.” 

“What are you waiting for then? My consent?” She snickers playfully, “We fuck for over a century and this is the most gentlemanly behavior I’ve ever seen from you, Beomie.”

Again, Jaebeom remains silent. 

Recognizing the obvious tension in the room, Tzuyu’s face falls. “But… I guess it’s more complicated than that, hm?” 

“There’s only enough for…” He’s unable to finish his sentence, not when his companion’s eyes are gazing at him with such sullenness and sympathy. Jaebeom has to look away for a moment, though the action does little to relieve the tightness of his chest. 

“Ah, I see.” Tzuyu hums, glancing across the way to a slumbering Felix. Her pale lips twitch, as if attempting to upturn to a smile, but it instead appears as a weak grimace. “You know, I really never meant to hurt (Y/N)… or you.” 

“Tzuyu—”

“I’ve known you for decades… but I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Another violent cough wracks through her body, expelling a mass of dark blood past her lips. Jaebeom is quick to wipe the splotch from her skin with the blanket, trying not to dwell on the fact that her skin is ice cold. “I’ll admit, I was jealous at first… I’ve always wanted someone to look at me like that… 

“I know you’re afraid to care—to love, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu murmurs sadly, lifting a hand to rest against the hybrid’s cheek. “Especially someone like (Y/N)… and you’re right to. She’s too good… too human. 

“One misstep and you could lose her forever.” 

“I want to be selfish…” Jaebeom whispers, “I want to be selfish so fucking bad—”

“But you can’t be, Beom. Not with her.” 

“Then let me be selfish with you.” 

Tzuyu smiles. 

“I’ve lived over three lifetimes, and he is barely a ways into his one—so you’re going to give the cure to that damn kid, Im Jaebeom.” He leans further into her touch as she caresses the apple of his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll stay away from her—to keep her safe?”

He nods.

“Good… Can you hold me for a moment? I’m cold.” 

“I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.” 

And so Jaebeom takes Tzuyu into his arms. However, it’s not until the vampire grows still does he allow a single tear to cascade from his eye, staining the bloodied bed sheets with the agony of a heart that has been broken too many times to count.

[thenextchapter22]

Angel of the Three Realms

PART 7!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: Everything is perfect, even with your love still a secret, and being home with everyone and flying is all you could ask for...

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, WIP

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: Guys, this is the second to last chapter :( Thank you to all those who kept reading, I’m really happy you liked this work. Please enjoy~

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

_+_

You had the most magical time just simply being with the brothers. Not doing anything special, only talking in your room, tossing popcorn at each other and snuggling. They were always so warm, and you’d never turn away a hug.

But eventually they had to go to their own thing, so that left you some time alone. Mostly with your thoughts, which strayed here and there as you stretched on your bed. Thankfully they had put it back to the way it was before the spell to make it larger.

School was on temporary break per Lord Diavolo’s orders (and although he didn’t say it directly, you knew it was because of you, and he wanted you to have some time off).

There was a knock on the door again. But this time, someone else spoke out on the other side.

“May I come in?” Lucifer called out.

You stood up quick and straightened out your clothes, fixing your hair. It had a slight curl to it from Asmo’s braiding. Lucifer at your door was a rare thing indeed, plus you wanted to look presentable after having popcorn thrown at you.

Letting him inside, he glanced around at the slight mess that still remained. Stray blankets, the TV was still moved from its spot, and some chairs had been pushed away to make room for the larger bed that had been there.

He turned back to you, and said, “I had stopped by earlier, but heard you all having so much fun I didn’t want to ruin it all.”

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, you could have joined us, you know.”

He waved his gloved hand dismissively. “No, you needed time with them. They needed time with you.”

Biting your lip, you had to ask. “Did you… hear anything we said?”

His lips quirked a bit but he didn’t not smile. “If you’re referring to you speaking about Michael, then, yes, I happened to hear it.”

So you eavesdropped, you wanted to say, but instead you pushed that away. It probably wasn’t on purpose.

“I hope its okay I told them about Michael… I don’t want to keep any more secrets.”

“Of course, dove, I had planned on telling them myself.”

You shivered at the nickname that flew so easily from his lips, and nodded, your hair bouncing. “Good, I’m glad.”

You watched his gaze flicker to your shoulders before he sighed. “I don’t want to upset you but I feel like we should talk about everything that’s happened.”

“Oh! Uh, okay. Do you want to sit then?” you gestured to the table. “I can make us some tea really fast.”

He did sit, but shook his head. “The tea isn’t needed. Let’s just talk.”

Talking wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. But you did sit opposite him at the little brown wooden table, and crossed your ankles and folded your hands under your chin. “All right, shoot.”

He smirked. “So eloquent.”

You winked. “Always.”

Really, you just wanted to ease the tension in the room. It was too stuffy and a bit suffocating. You were nervous for his questioning, like he was a detective asking you, a criminal, if you had done the murder.

Lucifer didn’t look at you for a moment, instead stared at the table, tapping his fingers on the edge. Then he stopped, and looked up at you with intensity in those gorgeous eyes. “I can’t apologize enough for how stupid I was to not see you when you first came here. Despite the spell, even so.”

You frowned. “Oh, Luci—”

He kept going. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. I need to know. Why did you leave? What happened to make you leave?”

You knew the question would come. Still you were not prepared for it. “I just… it’s hard to say why. There were lots of reason.” Lies. Only one: him.

He always saw right through you. Narrowing eyes spoke of that. “You’re not being truthful with me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He paused. His tone seemed lighter next he spoke, “Did you at least have a happy life?”

That was just like the brothers’ question. “I did…mostly.”

“Hm. Tell me more. I want to hear about your life, what I missed.”

“You do?” you whispered.

“Of course. Unless you don’t want to tell me. You’ve changed so much since I last saw you.”

“In a good way, or bad?”

He chuckled. “A bit of both, I think.”

You smiled. “Okay.” You thought about everything you’d been through, and decided to start off with a high note. “There was a stretch of years where I lived in a small town by the sea. Everyone knew everyone, and there was kindness all around. My favorite thing to do was fly over the water in the moonlight. The ocean breeze and the smell of salt air was amazing.” You inhaled like you were there, and he gently reached out and brushed his fingers over your cheek. You held in a whimper. “I had to leave at one point, when the kids started to become adults and I stayed the same as I was.”

“That must’ve been difficult to do over and over. Establish relationships and then leave.”

You nodded, and sighed. “It had to be done…”

“I do have to wonder… why you didn’t become Human once your arrival on the surface world. You have no Halo but you do have wings, and celestial magic… It’s against all that Heaven stood for.”

You had wondered it yourself many times. But then you had other things to worry about, like your pretend human life. Evolving with them, learning and teaching, building relationship and ending them many times over. It was fun and fantastic and everything you never had dreamed of when you first left. So, only for a few short moments did you ponder that question Lucifer asked, and replied back.

“I did wonder but… I wouldn’t be able to find any answers. I had too much to do.”

Lucifer smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart clenched. “You—you are?”

“I am. You’ve done amazing things in your life. I couldn’t have wished for anything better. Losing all these years with you…” He frowned. “I will admit thinking about how much time I’ve spent here, with my memories of you gone… That I didn’t have the strength to break free.”

“You couldn’t have known,”

“While that’s true, I still hate it.”

“And so, now that I have you here with me, I will make the best of it. We will together.”

Together. Just not the way you wanted.

Perhaps, in time, maybe some years in the future, you would be brave enough to finally speak up. But right now wasn’t the best time. Or you could just be a true coward to your own feelings. You had a stray thought of ‘what it this was hurting Lucifer more than telling him would be?’

“I promise you, my dear, if I were to ever see Michael again…” And Lucifer’s forehead glowed where his black triangle usually lay, dark clouds forming the shape but not fully changing him. “…I’ll kill him.”

_+_

Life was back to normal. Only, it was better. Truth was out, and a freedom of the soul with it. You were truly able to be you, at least in the way you looked. Sure, your wings were still tucked away but you knew they weren’t a secret to be hidden away anymore.

The first day you were told you could fly again, you shot out of bed that very morning and, after breakfast, ran to the courtyard. It was a beautiful Devildom day, no clouds, not too hot or cold, and the winds were just right.

“She’s gonna fly! Everyone, come and see her wings!” Mammon shouted.

There was the sound of a stampede and before you knew it, the entirety of the House of Lamentation was there, and Purgatory Hall even somehow ended up.

You were very nervous. It had been months since you’d flown. But you knew it was going to be as easy as getting back on a bicycle as the humans say.

“Go on, dearie, we know you’re going to be beautiful. Spread your wings and fly~” Asmo shouted.

You grinned at him, and heard everyone else shout out words of encouragement. It was honestly really sweet. Luke was jumping up and down, waving his arms. He hadn’t gotten wings yet so he was super excited.

Satan didn’t have wings so he wasn’t as cheery, but he still gave you a soft smile and told you to go for it.

Then, lastly, you heard Lucifer speak. He wasn’t shouting like the others, but your focused hearing caught his words. “Fly, just as you used to: with passion.”

So with that, you changed, wings sprouting out like fireworks of white bursting open, and like a rocket you shot up into the sky. There was cheering and screaming, but as you went higher, soaring around the clear skies, you could only hear the wind rushing in your ears, and your heart pounding. The pure delight in flying never would leave you.

The sky wasn’t just yours for long. You looked to your left and saw Asmodeus’ bat wings flapping as he twirled in circles. He looked majestic, and you saw he had his hair pinned back with clips. He winked and flew a bit lower, and you laughed.

Mammon flew past you in a burst of speed, the back winds hitting you hard but you steadied yourself. “Hey, slow down!” you teased.

He stuck out his tongue from in front of you, and circled you once. “No way, you’re so slow,” he shouted with a stupid grin before speeding ahead.

You laughed at them. This was so much fun. You shut your eyes for a moment, feeling the wind in your face, rustling your hair. Your wings ached gloriously. The tickling of it against your feathers. It was pure magic.

“Always with your head in the clouds.”

You saw Lucifer then, full form, four wings dark and incredible behind him. His hair looked perfect in the wind, and he eased up next to your right and kept pace.

“I know,” you said with a smile. “I do my best thinking here.”

“Well, then, next time a test comes up, please go flying first.”

You laughed. “All right, but only if you come with me?”

He smiled. “Of course, dove.”

You hummed. You moved away a bit, and twirled once, giggling, and found his gaze softened. “Why did you call me that? You used to when I was younger, and you also did when I first came here. I don’t know why, when you were under that spell…”

He slowed his speed a bit until he stopped, and you had to circle back to meet him. The two of you thousands of feet above the Devildom ground, floating in the air.

“It’s quite the conundrum isn’t it?” He paused. “Memories don’t just vanish. These spells can’t remove a memory, only cloak it, and hide it away. So it’s always there, somewhere in your mind, waiting to resurface again.”

You frowned. He was sort of right. It was like when you worked as a temp nurse in a hospital, and the coma patients eventually got their memory back with time and patience.

Suddenly, Lucifer smiled at you, like a Morningstar of darkness. “I suppose a part of me just… couldn’t forget you.”

What? Your wings fumbled a bit in astonishment, and he reached out to grab at your upper arms. There was a large frown on his face and his brow was furrowed. “Steady. You’re stronger now but I think it’s time to head back down.”

You said nothing, only let him lead you both to the ground. Everyone gathered around and you were brought out of your head to them patting your arms and saying how amazing you were.

A part of you was still stuck on what just was said, but you pulled yourself together. “Thanks everyone! I want to fly with all of you soon.”

You looked at Satan, who was frowning. He sighed. So you walked to him and took his hand. He blushed. “The two of us can do something else, or if you want I can take you flying?”

He shook his head. “No thank you. I’m not a fan of… heights…” He smiled. “But I appreciate it.”

Belphie made a soft noise. “I want extra naps on your lap as compensation.”

You chuckled. “Easily done, Belphie.”

Levi frowned from beside Satan. “What about me?”

You took his hand next, to which he panicked externally and internally, and said the same thing to him.

Levi stuttered a bit, “W-w-well we can go swimming instead. I know a lake that’s perfect this time of year where you can rent tube floats nearby and there’s a really cool waterfall that makes rainbows.”

You nodded. “Sounds perfect. Speaking of water, I’m thirsty so I’m going to grab a drink.”

Leaving them behind, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, downed it, and exhaled. You placed your hands on the marble countertop and scrunched your nose while you thought.

‘a part of me just… couldn’t forget you.’

Did Lucifer love you? As more than a… friend? Was it possible? Those words seemed to have an underlying meaning to them, you were almost positive. Because if he did love you, he would say so, right? He was Pride, but wouldn’t love overcome that tenfold?

You laughed aloud, and shook your head. “I’m an idiot. Of course he doesn’t.”

Still, those words echoed in your head all day and night, even appearing in your dreams. Haunting or teasing, you were not sure.

But when you woke up to a new family, you shoved that part away. You had to put the past where it belonged: the past. You were home, Michael could not get you here, and you were safe to live your life as you chose. And you chose to live it to the fullest.

[aliynavenus]

DamiRae Fanfic: New Years Eve 

(Authors Notes: I’m late ik. Most likely won’t be that good. It was just an idea I had and ik I’m late with posting it but here it is. Don’t have high hopes. Really. My writing could be worse considering I haven’t wrote in over 4 months ahhhhh i’ll shut up so you can read and judge.)

She almost felt awkward with him being here. It’s not like it’s the first Damian has been in her room. Though this was different. They were friends, close friends in fact. Companions in which they understood each other including the bond that they shared ever since the first week they met, it may have been such a long time ago but they never felt the need to find some kind of reverse spell to erase it. 

They may not have want to admit it. But they like that link shared. It was a disclosure that made them feel less lonely in their life. 

“Are you sure it’s alright to go with you?” She yelled loud enough for him to hear her while he was getting dressed in her bathroom. 

“Of course, it’s New years eve. You shouldn’t be alone at the tower.” his words were muffled yet she heard him. 

Right. New Year’s Eve. She didn’t mind spending it alone, though Damian insisted her to come with him to his father’s annual new year’s eve charitable gala. When she denied, the next day Bruce mailed her an invitation, which surprised Damian just as much as she was. 

Taking by how long she was thinking, Damian cleared his throat echoing back with hesitation “If you’d like we could stay here and not attend I can make an excuse to my Father.” 

A small smile was tugging the corner of her mouth realizing how considerate he was of her. He knew her well. Knowing the dislike they both shared for over crowded meaningless parties or crowds. Although...

That wasn’t negotiable. Denying an invitation from Bruce Wayne--scratch that--The Batman was more terrifying then having to face her own damn father. “No th-that’s alright. It’ll be nice. I don’t mind going.” 

That wasn’t the problem. Being seated, looking at herself in her grey vanity mirror. She felt pathetic even thinking this but she felt insecure in going. She glanced down at her off the shoulder tight maroon dress--that was obviously Donna’s-- it barely filled up her small chest. Great, just to top off her one of many insecurities for tonight. The lavish dress that Raven had no idea could even exist in Donna’s messy closet. She felt weird. If that was even the word to describe it. 

Glancing at the side of her mirror she could see the small reflection of the of her bathroom door slightly open. A string of heat spread across her cheeks having a visual of Damian’s bare tan back covered in scars and bruises, some fading yet some were still fresh. His shoulders were broader, muscles taking up his biceps, he wasn’t too muscular like his father but he sure was getting there. 

 They may have not been together or anything like that. But she felt good when she was around him. Forgetting all the thoughts that reminded her of being a sinful demon’s daughter. He made her feel normal without even realizing it. 

“You seem lost in thought.” Damian’s voice knocks her out of her thoughts, as he comes out of her bathroom. Fully dressed in simple black trousers with an olive oxford, sleeves rolled up making him look too damn irresistible. In the years she’s known him he was always the best at hiding his emotions. Never showing any sign of what he was thinking, it made her feel powerless.

It was almost if he was ready to seek girls attention, though that was never his intention. It almost bugged her even more in fact. How can he look like a god himself, without trying. 

“Nope, I’m okay.” she clears her throat wanting the linger of her thoughts to disappear. She stares at his chest, noticing the small specks of Titus’s fur stuck onto it. Good thing she always had a spare lint roller in her vanity drawer. “You have some Titus’s fur on you.” 

Getting up from her seat, she walks over her to him. Damian was easily a head over her, she felt so small compared to him despite her being a year older than him. 

Damian’s jaw tightened as his eyes wandered around her body slowly. She didn’t want to look directly at him yet, in fact it made her knees become weak if his stare kept boring into her.  

 Rolling the roller on top of his chest, it wasn’t a lot but just enough to leave a clean slate. His signature scent of fresh wood and ginger corrupted her, leaving her want to be filled with his fragrance. Raven looked up at him, his eyes already staring down at her. He looked tense, almost like he was battling with his own inner thoughts that she couldn’t comprehend. His emeralds with specks of gold sprinkled onto his irises. His eyes it was like they were imprinting onto hers. 

“You look beautiful.” 

What? His soft voice, almost like a whisper that he didn’t want to be heard. She could have sworn that she could see a slight rush of pink onto his cheeks, to the tip of his ears. Yet he didn’t show any feature of his face of embarrassment, always hiding how to react. 

She wasn’t any good in that realm. Slowly looking down to bite down a smile that was creeping on her lips. “Thank you.” 

Warmth rushed up her skin, as she felt his fingers caress her forearm. His thumb running slowly back and forth as if he was taking in every part of flesh. She could practically feel his stare boring into her when she lifted her head up. Everything that was felt upon her felt gentle, his touch, his stare, everything. 

If she was being honest, she’d rather stay in this moment with him. She’d rather stay at the tower with him alone. She wanted to have him touch her more. She wanted this to herself. Was it a selfish wish? 

“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.” 

Damian’s voice was a low rumble.It was more a command than a request. The words coming out clear and rough against her. It made her body feel as if it was just electrocuted. It made her feel small, not knowing what quite to say. Raven waited for him to continue. But he never did. Instead he stayed quiet, avoiding her stare that she so desperately wanted to meet. 

She wanted to say something. Anything. But the words never left her lips. A silence stretched between them. 

Damian’s hand left her forearm already missing the touch of his hand. She saw his hands digging into his pockets, clearing his throat. “We should go, my father is most likely waiting.” 

All she was able to do was nod and walk to her grab her heels. 

----------

At the gala 11:13 p.m (Been there for an hour) 

She wasn’t having fun. Now that she thinks of it, she should’ve accepted his idea in staying home instead. There wasn’t anyone she knew here, all of them either being business owners to reporters to simply models from heaven. 

Her insecurities were through the roof when she stepped foot in the Wayne Manor. The flashing gleaming chandelier lights, the polished floor of marble, the endless crowds of people faking smiles to each other while being handed drinks every 2 seconds. Women, even young girls dressed elegantly with beauty that was beyond compared.

Honestly did Bruce make everyone who was gorgeous attend the manor. Of course the men here were handsome too but none quite compared to Damian. 

Who might she add, has been charged by the many reporters and young--next heirs to be--women who threw themselves onto him when they first got there. 

Yeah. There was no way of getting near him with the herd of people surrounding him. 

Raven shifted towards the wine table, azar it was new years eve she might at least try to enjoy herself. Taking a glass of filled wine, she took it in sip by sip. It may be practically impossible for her to get drunk since her powers can easily be consumed over it, she did get the euphoric pleasure for a few minutes. 

Her feet ended up drifting her towards the small isolated balcony at the end of the hall. The wind was cold, but it felt fresh against her skin. 

“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.” 

She kept remembering over and over. They were simple words, but they struck her. His tone, his eyes, his short breaths, everything was so still. He processed her at that very moment, and she was ready to give in. She wanted to think the way she did, she wanted to consider maybe for one second think of the thought that maybe, just maybe he felt some sort of way towards her--

Though that wouldn't be accurate. Damian would never. Who was she kidding, truly. 

“You look like you need a friend.” Turning to hear the familiar voice.

“Roy?” She was taken aback. She hasn’t seen Roy aka Arsenal since he left the Titans a year ago, going solo even though he was only a year older than her.

Turning her body following his movement as he placed himself next to her leaning against the balcony.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

He chuckled, revealing his dented dimple on the side of his cheek. His simple red oxford with grey trousers complimenting his darken red ginger hair. “I should be the one saying that. Didn’t think gala’s were your thing. You’re kind of outta your element don’t ya think.” 

Roy leveled the extra drink he had in his hand to her, eyeing her waiting for her to accept his drink. 

A relieving sigh, her breath dusting into the cold air. “Thank you.” She took a sip, “I am out of element, Bruce invited me to come along with Damian. You?” 

Roy shrugged, “Oliver’s here, half of this gala is for charity and since I’m most likely the next heir to his company he wanted me to come talk to a few business people about profits, marketing, you know.” 

Raven nodded, taking another sip of the smooth flavor that danced on her tongue. She knew nothing of that but she rather pretended she did. 

A silence stretched between them, “So you came with the snarky brat tonight, hmm. As a date?” 

Raven almost coughed up her saliva, “N-No of course not.” she gestured her head towards Damian who was talking to a pretty tall brunette with blue eyes like Donna. “She’ll probably be a better date then I will ever be for him.” 

“Oh?”  He sounded intrigued. “And why do you say that?” 

She couldn’t tell if the wine was kicking in, but she knew it wouldn’t last long considering her powers will only take it over. But right now she didn’t care. She turned her whole body to take the sight of Damian and the girl, “Because Roy, look at her--look at them.” She motioned towards them with the drink still in her hand, “They look like that perfect ideal couple that I see in every damn cover on Donna’s magazines. She belongs in this world. I don’t. Oh azar, I was never supposed to belong with anyone in the first place. But him, he may be snarky, stubborn, and so stupidly difficult but he belongs with good. He needs good. I’m still learning how to just be that right now.” 

Her whole voice felt raw and fragile in the back of the throat, the glass that was once full of wine now was gone. Roy sighed leaning his neck back, looking up at the sky. “You and him were always so gullible.” his words were so quiet, as if it wasn’t meant to be heard. “Damian doesn’t need good. What he needs is someone to understand that weird obnoxious mind of his. You really think these females will ever understand him, understand the Al-Gual part, the Wayne part, the Titan part, the jerkoff part especially. I don’t think so, Rae.” 

Raven sighed turning to face Roy. His tone, his facial features, his posture, everything seemed so easy to read off of him. He was being genuine, helpful, caring yet cautious of his words. “He really is something else.” 

“Yea, a real pain in the ass too.” Roy chugged down the last ounce of whatever strong alcohol he had. 

“I could say the same to you, Harper.” 

Raven bit her lip when she heard Damian’s voice. Oh Azar, what happened to him talking to that girl. 

Roy didn’t even look startled, keeping his stare directly at Damian. She almost forgot how much they never really could handle one another but only minerly had to tolerate each other during missions.

Damian's eyes were dark, his jaw ticked. No longer having that warm fake persona he put on for people. “Harper.” 

“Wayne.” Roy nonchalantly said putting his arms up. “I didn’t do anything to her.” 

“As you shouldn’t be.” The tension between their voices was like a ticking time bomb. “I’ll be taking her for now.” Damian's fingers intertwining with hers escorting her out of the balcony. 

Her mind felt hazy with the sudden pull of Damian. She gave a smile waving off to Roy who was trying to hide a slick smile at them. “Happy new year, Roy” 

“Happy new year’s Rae.” 

--- 11:46 --- 

Raven looked around where Damian was taking her, having no idea what hall they were in but was only grateful that no one was in near sight. “Where are we going?” Her mouth finally working, she suppose the wine was wearing off. 

“Alone.” was the only thing that managed to leave his lips. Yet it sounded like there was more to be said. His eyes never meeting hers like he was having his own war inside of him. 

He was angry. 

Finally pulling them into a room on one of the highest floors. He escorted her in, turning on the dim lights behind her. The room was simple, almost no decoration, a bed in the middle, along with some simple books scattered, swords hung on the wall. 

“Why am I here? It’s almost New Years shouldn’t we be downstairs.” pause. “Shouldn’t you be faking a personality for people right now.” 

Yup the alcohol was still in her. Or maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol anymore. 

She almost hated how annoyed her voice sounded.  Though part of her drunken speech to Roy did make her hate Damian right now. Him saying she should be near him tonight when really he was the one playing distant heir the whole night. 

Damian leaned back on the door crossing his arms, his jaw ticked again. His eyes were a shade darker, nothing sort of gentle behind them. “Why were you with him?” 

Damian completely ignored her questions. Raven gave a dry chuckle; it only made her want to bite back, “Who? Roy? At least he was keeping me good company, rather than you being tossed around by every stranger.” 

“You really don’t--” Damian stumbled, he was biting his tongue. He wanted the words to come out of him so she could easily see it. He was frustrated knowing well he wasn’t going to win against her. 

“You don’t get it Raven.” pause. “I wanted to be with you this entire night like I said.” He glanced away from her, “When I told you that, you didn’t respond. I felt foolish for saying what I said to you Raven. I thought maybe I managed to push you away, I hated myself after that. Even now I hate this. I hate not knowing whatever I feel when you’re around me. Whenever your aroma consumes me, I could practically fall to my knees for you Raven.” 

This couldn’t be.

Did he..? 

Damian scratched the back of his neck, gesturing his hands in the air, “And when I saw you with that imbecile. God I wanted to steal you away from him, I didn’t care.” 

Every step he took to her, was just a request she wanted to make to just fall before him. He gently brought his hands to cup her cheeks to look directly into his eyes. Nothing was fake, his eyes, his eyes. This was all him. Everything she’d never expect from him, “I told you to be near me tonight because you look so beautiful. I didn’t want anyone even taking the sight of you. Your too fuckin diserable even more me.” 

Like her….

Tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, she wanted this, wanted him. 

Bringing her fingers to wrap around his wrists, she lifted herself up to touch her lips with his. Damian’s lips were rough against hers but she liked it. 

-------- 11:53 ----- (Damian's Pov) 

Their lips crashing together was a different euphoric sensation he hasn’t felt. His fingers were tangled into her soft hair, running along the back of her neck. His tongue sliding across her lower lip, her taste, her stroke with her tongue mingling with his was just too damn good. He wanted to conquer every part that he could, admire her with his reach. 

Every touch that he made on her made him feel unworthy, a damn perfection she was that he felt unworthy of. 

Raven’s breaths were short, hot as she was having a few touches of fun of her own for him. Her fist clenching onto his shirt pulling him tighter while the other on his bicep, her touch was burning into him that he hoped would leave a mark on him. 

He took in no time to trace her body downward, admiring every dip and curve on the formatious tight dress she had. Leaving small pepper kissed onto her neck, and open shoulders

Raven winced, and it was a lavish melody he wanted to hear again. Licking, and biting every part of her open bare skin displayed on him. He wanted people to know she was his. Just as she should be, just how she should have been. “Damian” 

He shivered at the way his name sounded on her innocent voice. Coming back up to capture her lips he needed. He took this time to grab her thighs, lifting her up. Raven cupped the back of his neck and cheek to keep her well balanced not wanting to miss a single taste of him. His mouth dominating over hers so slowly, teasing her, biting her, over and over again.  

Walking towards the bed, he seated himself so now she was on top of him. Damian pulled away for a second, he was admiring her. Hell, he was taking in every part of her, her fists bunched into his shirt surely causing wrinkles he didn’t care for, her hair becoming slightly messy but still looking so utterly perfect, her elegant dress now being bunched up revealing her velvety thighs before him. Her lips were now pouted, bigger than her normal size. Damian leaned her chin towards him coming in gently to place small kisses on the small bruises on her lips that were faded from his bites. 

He was known to be rough yet she didn’t seem to mind at all for him. 

“You are too good for me, my beloved.” 

Damian could feel her goosebumps form on her arms, he tried hiding his smile from her. Raven only managed to shake her head, causing Damian to run a lingering touch on her back, “Tell me you’ll let me stay by your side, Raven” 

Raven let out a relieved laugh, her iris eyes lighting up with bliss. It was a sight he’d love to see over and over if he can. “Don’t leave it and I won’t leave yours.” 

Grabbing side of her cheek, fiddling with her hair. He wanted nothing more than to stay by her side for as long as she’ll let him. He cared--no--treasured her. 

All his life he understood everything, there was never a question or puzzle he couldn’t solve. Everything was simple for him.

But her. Raven. 

Damian was never able to understand, he felt sinful when he had thoughts about her, thoughts about them simply being together. He didn’t think she’d accept him then more than a teammate. He was fucked up. He never saw her as a weapon that was destined to be. 

She was pure to him. A soul to protect. To keep safe. 

Shouts and bottles of corks were muffled through the room hearing everyone chanting happy new years. He stared back at her running small circles on her back. “I promise, Happy New Year, my love.” 

Bringing his lips to collide again with hers. Raven chuckled, against him. “Happy New Year” 

Now the only thoughts left were wondering how in the hell were they going to manage to keep this a secret from the team and his father.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in  hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.