#and I SHOULD let myself just fuck around in my sketchbook. yeah it's nice but that really just means it has no lines lmao

[void-botanist]

important announcement

I have been sketching...in my sketchbook

that is all

[ashamedart]

I'm trying out my first (kind of) g/t fic on here ahaha I'm so scared

Things not seen (title may change)

Chapter 1: The Demon

… the bell rings. Oh. I forgot I was in school… it’s the last period on the day before spring break, and it’s… terrifying. I’m graduating so soon... I snap back to attention and quickly start piling all my stuff in my backpack. A few mechanical pencils, lots of books, a sketchbook and a writing notebook… I don’t need half of the things I bring to school, but I still want to. And I feel like I should. I walk out the classroom door, avoiding eye contact with my teacher and classmates, and into the crowded hallway, packed with noise. I practically press myself against the walls to try to avoid physical contact. Thankfully, I make it outside without being trampled by the horde. It’s at one of those temperatures that makes it a bit too warm with my sweater on, and a bit too cold with it off. I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump, spinning around to be greeted by Fiona’s grinning face. She’s always been bolder than me in terms of the way she dresses, her outfit consisting of a pink sweater over a short black skirt, fishnet tights, and combat boots. There are little things in her hair, stickers on her shoes, and pins of games and shows all over her bag. I could never just have my interests on display like that…

“Oh. Um. Hi.” “Hi!!”

“Are we going to the tree today?” “I would love to, but… actually, I came to find you to tell you something… I’m gonna be gone for the whole break.”

My heart sinks, but I put on a smile.

“Really? Where to?”

“Ireland! My dad’s taking me to see my grandma and uncles.” Ireland!? She’s going to a different country!? But I was looking forward to spending the break with her! I had basically everything planned! “Oh, wow! Heh, lucky you… when do you leave?” “Uh… sometime soon?” “... like, today?” “Yeah.” “What?? That’s something you have to pay attention to!” “I dunno, my parents’ll let me know.” “You don’t know when you’re leaving! Don’t you need to pack or anything??” “Oh, I already did, like, a week ago.” “Thank goodness, why didn’t you say that??” “Why would I, you didn’t ask.”

“... I don’t know, but it would have been nice.” “You assume I wouldn’t-” There’s a muffled pinging sound. Fiona pulls her phone out of her pocket, sighing, and stops the sound. She opens her phone and I can see her looking at texts.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. My dad pinged my phone because I missed some texts from him. Asking where I am. Guess it’s time to go soon.” “Already?? I thought you meant, like tomorrow!” “Nah, I guess it’s now. Hey, don’t worry, you’ll be fine on your own.”

“... I wasn’t thinking that.” “I know you-” Her phone pings again, and she has to once again stop the sound.

“Fuck, okay, sorry Mallory. I’ll see you when we get back, I guess! I’ll text you nonstop!” She gives me a quick hug and sprints off. … I’ll be without my best and only friend for two weeks. I’m not a very sociable person, but one friend was all I thought I wanted and needed. Turns out, it just means I have nothing to do when she’s gone. … what do I do now? Just… go alone? … I guess. Better than being home all break. I slowly begin to make my way to the treeline behind the high school. Even though I’ve done it so many times before, it feels… wrong, going alone. I walk down the slightly beaten path to the treehouse. I put ribbons in the bushes and trees to mark the way to go, but I’ve done this so many times that I don’t even need them anymore. I recognise each tree, every patch of flowers, the creek flowing through the path…

And there it is.

A giant oak tree with a large treehouse resting in its branches. There’s a woven swing hanging from a limb, a hollow on one side with pillows and blankets piled in it, a ladder leading up to the 10 foot tall door, as well as the platforms around the tree. It’s a big treehouse, with a high ceiling, a balcony, closet, windows, and trapdoor to the roof. I didn’t build it, of course, I just found it and repaired it with Fiona and her mom. It really is beautiful, I could just stand here for a while. But I won’t, I didn’t come here to stand here and stare at the treehouse, I came here to go inside. I move to grab the rungs of the ladder, but freeze halfway there. It sounds like something’s up there. I feel my heart skip a beat. Slowly and quietly, I ascend the ladder and creep over to the door. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from screaming, and duck out of the doorway. There is someone in there. Or, something… it isn’t human… whatever it is, it has a humanoid shape, but is way too big to be a human. … it’s flipping through my notebooks. My blood boils over with rage, despite the lingering fear. How DARE it!? Without thinking, I stomp into the treehouse and look around, picking up a fairly large stick and hurling it at the thing.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? GIVE ME THAT!!”

It pauses, and its gaze slowly shifts to me. I freeze, fear filling my mind as I realise what I did, but I try to hold my ground and seem somewhat intimidating.

“... th-that’s m-mine…”

Shit, I’m stuttering… it rises to its feet and approaches me. I instinctively back away until my back hits the wall…

“S-stay back!”

It continues in its approach, coming to a stop right in front of me, absolutely towering over me. I want to scream, run, shut my eyes, but I can’t move, other than trembling. It holds out its hand, the one with my sketchbook in it. … is it actually giving it back?? I glance between its face and the book in its hand, before quickly snatching it and stepping back. It also steps back. It’s huge, at least twenty feet tall, with tan skin, pink hair, and icy blue eyes with black sclera. It has a thick reptilian tail with a tuft of pink hair at the end, two small black horns, and I’ve caught glimpses of claws on its hands and sharp behind its lips. I have no idea what it could be…

“Is this your house?

… it talks. … I did not expect it to talk. Its voice is fairly deep with no real distinctive gender, but does possibly sound more feminine. I take a deep breath and try to talk.

“Y-y-yes…”

Still stuttering….

“Oh. … I’m sorry I was in here, then. I just smelled something good…”

Smelled something..? I glance over at the shoe box of snacks in the closet. Maybe it’ll leave if I give it something. Or at least be less likely to kill me...

“... my, uh… m-my snacks? Y-you can h-have some.. i-in the cl-closet…”

It walks over to the closet and takes the box down. It glances back at me before hesitantly opening it and looking through it. I cautiously take a step closer to the giant…

… it’s wearing clothes. I hadn’t registered that before, likely due to shock, anger, and/or fear.. but it is. A black cloak, jeans, boots, and… glasses. Where did it get glasses? Wait, where did it get any clothes that fit it? Why am I wondering this about it? … what do I think I should be wondering about it? It pulls out a plastic baggie of homemade chocolate chip cookies. I forgot I had those. I made them a few days ago. They’re a little lopsided, but still pretty good.

“What are these?”

… really? It doesn’t know what cookies are?? … it’s baffling, but it does make some sense. I don’t know where it would have access to cookies, being a giant monster…

“... th-those? Cookies? Th-they’re, uh, sweet f-food?”

It stares at me for a moment before looking back down at the bag and taking one of the cookies out of the bag and examining it. It hesitantly raises the treat to its mouth and takes a bite. Its eyes widen and I can see its face light up…

“WHERE DO YOU GET THESE!?”

Ow- oh wow it’s loud..

“I-I, uh… I made them…”

“You can MAKE these!?”

“Yeah? Just, uh, flour, sugar, sometimes chocolate, a few other things, and heat it up.”

“What’s chocolate?”

It quickly finishes the rest of the cookie. … it doesn’t know chocolate either, huh… how am I supposed to explain chocolate to someone that’s never had it? It’s such a unique flavour…

“Chocolate is, uh… how do I… th-there’s a box of chocolate at the bottom of the box somewhere… the big plastic-wrapped thing. .. brown.”

It digs through the box for the bar of chocolate, slowly removing it from the container. It glances back at me again. It struggles a bit, figuring out how to go about opening the wrapper with its large hands, but does get it pretty fast, tearing off the wrapper and biting a small piece off the corner. You could practically see the stars in its eyes, its tail thumping against the floor. I instinctively recoil at the sound, but… it suddenly seems much less intimidating…

“I think I LOVE chocolate!!”

“Yeah, it’s, uh… pretty good… you’ve really never had any chocolate before..?”

“No. I can’t really just walk into wherever you get it.”

… that’s… fair. A giant… demon thing (?) anywhere too close to the town would be a disaster… I watch it finish off the rest of the chocolate bar in one bite.

“... what are you..?”

“Wh- me? … uh… honestly, the best answer I can give you is ‘a monster…’”

“So… you don’t… know?”

“I’ve never seen another thing like me, and humans definitely don’t know what I am, so nobody’s ever told me…”

That’s… kind of sad… I wonder where it came from, what its life is like… I let out an involuntary yawn. Everything that’s happened today has been pretty exhausting… it’s probably starting to get late, too… I pull out my phone to check the time. The numbers across the lock screen reading 6:26. … it’s 6:26! I was supposed to be home almost 30 minutes ago!! No, I almost never come home more than a minute late!

“... is something wrong?"

“I-I was supposed to be home a while ago…”

“... isn’t this your house?”

“Oh, uh- no, I don’t live here. I guess it is my house, but I don’t live here, I only come here a lot. I live somewhere else. And my mom’s gonna be pissed that I wasn’t there half an hour ago…”

… it stares at me for a moment, then gets up and starts to descend the ladder. I don’t know if I want it to leave or not…

“A-are you leaving?”

It holds its hand up to me from the ground and smiles. … should I…

“Do you want me to take it..?”

Its smile grows wider. I guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ I walk out of the doorway and glance cautiously between its face and hand. I don't really trust it, but... I cautiously place my hand in its much larger one. … it suddenly grips my arm and lifts me off my feet, lowering me down onto its shoulder. I let out a startled squeak and wrap my arms around its neck as my feet touch the fabric of its cloak, terrified once again.

“So, which way’s your house?”

“Uh… th-that way…?”

I say shakily and point in the general direction of my house. I’ve been here so many times, I know the way back. … is it going to take me there..?

“Alright, hold on!”

"wh-"

Before I can fully register its words, it sprints off in the direction I pointed it in. I shut my eyes and press myself against its head, my cheeks hot and heart beating fast, afraid to open my eyes and see myself falling… It’s terrifying, but… the cool evening air, warmth of the creature under and next to me, wind against my face and hair… it’s exhilarating… and oddly comforting… I slowly open my eyes, squinting them in an attempt to block out the wind rushing at them. It’s going so fast, things are rushing past me in a blur. I have so many questions and theories about it… I see my house appearing through the treeline.

“Ah- th-there! Stop here!”

It comes screeching to a halt, the momentum causing it to fall forward onto its face, and myself to fall off its shoulder and land in the dirt. I push myself upright  and brush myself off, looking over at the creature. It groans and sits up, cleaning its glasses off on its sweater. I softly laugh at the sight, and it smiles awkwardly at me.

“I probably shouldn’t go any further…”

“Yeah, people would really freak out, wouldn’t they? … w-well, uh… goodbye… I guess…” I don’t know what else to say. I turn and begin walking to my house when it puts its glasses back on and speaks for the last time.

“Emory.”

I turn back towards it.

“... what?”

“Ah- my name. It’s Emory.”

Emory. It’s a strangely human name for them, but it’s nice. It fits.

“Emory… it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mallory.”

They smile and wave at me, before slowly disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding woods… 

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

... wow. It’s hard to believe any of that just happened… I’m so tired… I turn back towards my house and prepare myself for what’s going to happen when I cross the threshold of the front door. And I approach. I stand before the entrance to my house, heart pounding. I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone and check the time again, as if I thought it might have somehow gone back. 6:31. … I steel myself and place my hand on the knob to slowly turn it, just opening the door a crack, attempting to sneak in as quietly as I can. The sound of the door creaking and clicking shut echoes through the house, seeming loud as thunder. I can already hear the sound of her green slippers stomping against the floor, approaching  from the living room, and wince. When I turn, I can practically see the smoke pouring out of her ears like a tea kettle. I flash a sheepish smile and force a small wave.

“H-heeyy, mom…”

“Excuse me?? Take this seriously, I was worried! WHERE have you BEEN!? You never come home this late without letting me know first!”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just lost track of time…”

“NO. You don’t ‘lose track of time,’ you’re always here early! So what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?? Was it that friend of yours? Were you at a party?? Did you do drugs!? Is there a boy!?” “What!? Mom, no, I hate parties. And Fiona isn't bad... I’m telling the truth, I was just reading and lost track of time…” I really hope I don't look like I'm lying. Besides, I don’t even like guys. Not that I would ever say that in front of her. I have do idea how she would react. She narrows her eyes at me, having to look up a bit. “Well. This is your first strike. I’m trusting that you’re telling the truth because I believe you’re a good kid who wouldn’t do that. But, you still got home very late, so no dinner, and get to your room.” “Yes, ma’am…”

I quietly begin to ascend the stairs to my room. I hated that. I hate that she treats me like a fucking child who can’t take care of herself. I know she loves me, and she’s just protective, but it can be humiliating… I slam the door shut behind me and wince, hoping she didn’t hear that. … thankfully, I don’t hear anything but my dad’s snoring coming from the other room. He tends to work a lot and sleep in. I feel kind of bad for him. … I might go to sleep early, too… everything that happened today has been exhausting… I flip the lights off and turn on the white noise machine. With all the noise from the other room, I need it to sleep. I climb up onto my bed, not bothering to change into pyjamas, just throwing off my shirt and skirt. I lie down and cover myself with the blankets, and as I stare up at the glowing stars stuck to my ceiling, my brain runs through today’s events. Was that even real..? My mind feels so fuzzy now as my eyelids fall over my eyes.

Ugh... I’m so… tired…

So I'm a very beginner writer, I'm not great at coming up with names, and I feel like this story might be too rushed. I am okay with and encourage constructive criticism. I am in love with these characters and they will appear again on here :D

[anystalker707]

What do you have there?

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 1 200 Genre: Fluff Summary: (Y/n) finally gets nipple piercings, byt they're nervous to tell their partner, Gerard, about it.

Requested by Anon

I have been wanting to do this for a time already, I’m not going to lie. The thought was still there in the back of my mind whenever I looked down at my chest or saw anything that could lead me to the subject until I just couldn’t hold myself back anymore and booked an appointment. At the moment Gerard left to go to band practice earlier today I immediately called my friend.

After a quick appointment and light pain, here I am back home and completely unable to keep checking my chest on the bathroom’s mirror every five minutes because fuck, they look amazing. The shiny metal pierced through my nipples and going around it is just so… awesome. It makes me feel so powerful for some goddamn reason, like if they weren’t just some small pieces of metal going through my skin.

Hearing the front door opening makes me lower the shirt at the same moment, still careful not to hurt myself.

“I brought us some food,” Gerard calls from the front door, and I meet him in the kitchen as he lets down the paper bag on the counter. He smiles, kissing my cheek when he walks past me. “How was your day?”

“Good, very good,” I hum, making my way over to check what’s inside the bag and helplessly smile seeing it’s something I’ve been talking about for the past week. “What about yours?”

No answer comes at first, but Gerard is soon walking back downstairs in comfortable clothes. “Same, same. We’re just finishing a song and I think we’ll be able to record it properly soon. I think you’re gonna like it.”

I scoff. ��I like everything you guys do, this shouldn’t be a worry.”

“Well, we need to keep up with the good work so you’ll keep liking it.” He shrugs lightly, a smirk tugging lightly on his lips, and he walks away to the living room, probably going to watch something, otherwise he would have his sketchbook and pencils in hand to sketch some random idea that came to him during band practice instead of just tiredness.

Then there’s the food. I want to eat, but I also want Gerard to know I’ve gotten the new piercings, but how the fuck am I supposed to tell him about it? Knowing him, he most likely won’t have a negative reaction, still… What if he does? I mean, it does mean a lot to be, but it’s kinda stupid.

When I walk into the living room, Gerard’s already into the episode of Gotham he couldn’t finish yesterday, half lying down on the couch with his upper back against the armrest, so I sit down by his feet.

Gerard should know about it. Not like he’s not going to know at some point, after all, since we take showers together once in a while, and sometimes he’s in the bedroom already when I come out of a shower or when I’m changing, plus the other uncountable occasions. I don’t think playing it cluelessly when he eventually finds out will be a nice thing, not to mention how extremely awkward it could be.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Gerard cuts through my thoughts and he’s raising an eyebrow at me.

Oh, fuck. “Nothing.”

“Of course there’s something. You don’t get weird due to nothing.”

“Well, what if I did, hm?”

“Then,” he exhales, “it’d also be because of something, and don’t try to deny it because we’ve been together for almost two years now, (y/n). I know you well. I’m stupid, but not that stupid.”

“Yeah?” I chuckle. “What if you are?”

Gerard narrows his eyes at me, humming. “I know you really well, hun, but I know myself even better.”

“Do you?”

A groan comes from Gerard as he throws his head back and I laugh, finding it extremely funny for some reason. Maybe he’ll shrug it off, right? Because he fucking needs to.

He sighs, shifting lightly on the couch. “What did you do today, baby?”

“Oh, y’know, I went out with Kristin, we went to the mall and all.” I shrug.

“And what else did you do?”

“We ate something at a restaurant and bought her some clothes, not a lot.” I lean my head against the backrest, averting my eyes to the TV even if I don’t have any interest in what’s playing, at least right now.

“Okay, then,” he hums, relaxing against the couch again, and turns to the TV, “keep your secrets. It’s okay.” Gerard knows exactly what he is doing and I absolutely hate him for it. Why can’t he keep talking? Just insist a little bit more. Isn’t he curious?

“I hate you, Gerard.”

“And I love you, baby,” he says softly as if the previous talk never happened.

“I got my nipples pierced.”

For a moment, it’s as if my body has life of its own because I only process what happened when Gerard sits up and stares at me with a thousand emotions in a single second, going from a lost puppy to a deer caught in headlights and finally looking at me in disbelief. Does he hate it? Does he like it? What the fuck does that expression mean? His eyes trail down to my chest and fuck, how can he be so confusing? What is he thinking?

I suck in a breath, about to tell Gerard to speak up already when he does so.

“Can I see it?”

The heat trails up the back of my neck and my cheeks, and I look away from Gerard, looking at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I… Yeah, of course. Let’s just go to the bathroom, hm? I don’t want to risk anyone seeing it. Windows, y’know.”

Gerard nods frantically and is on his feet before me, hence he’s in the bathroom by the time I walk in, observing me with wide eyes in a way I would’ve already disappeared if his gaze did something.

“Here,” I mumble, bringing my shirt up, and it’s almost comical how his chin falls at the same time my nipples come into view, but there’s something different in his eyes now. His cheeks burn red and he swallows thickly, pressing his lips together as he adjusts his position lightly, unable to tear his eyes away. “So?”

Gerard doesn’t answer, covering his mouth with his hand as he steps out of the bathroom, disappearing down the hall. What the fuck? And I thought he had liked it or that he was at least going to show any sort of reaction. I look at myself looking for something wrong – as if there would be – and I’m about to go after him when he’s walking back with a glass of water in hand. “Y’know…” Gerard cleans his throat. “With all the respect possible, fuck, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m not fucking lying. Like– Holy hell, I never thought you would do that, but wow! I just– Fuck.” He furrows his eyebrows and rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyeing the piercings once again.

“Oh,” I chuckle, looking down at myself, once again feeling the pride swell in my chest. “I had been with it in mind for a while now, so I scheduled an appointment when I knew you’d be in band practice since I was somehow so nervous about it.” I smile and look back up to see his tongue running between his lips. “But no playing with them until they’re completely healed!”

“And when is that?”

“From nine to twelve months, so you better be prepared!” I grin as he frowns like it was the hardest thing in the world.

_________________

Tagging list: @lubbockshusband

[whisperlullaby]

Just Say It And I’m Yours-Ch.1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language, stalking ish themes

Words: 1490

Summary: Steve is considering retiring from being Captain America. He doesn’t remember why he took the shield or what it means for him anymore. Then he met you. 

A/N: First and foremost I am SO SORRY FOR BEING SO SHIT AT SUMMARIES. I just don’t want to give anything away. Second, this is my first series! So like, comment, reblog, let me know you want to see more of this. This story is going to start in Steve’s perspective and switch to the readers. I’ll let you guys know when the POV is shifting so no worries. So, this first chapter is told through Steve. Third, if I missed any warnings please let me know. Last but most CERTAINTLY not least, a very VERY special thanks to @river-soul​ for reading through this and assuring me it was a good first chapter. I am so grateful for you. Let me know what you think! (Gif by @navybrat817 )

“Steve, she's getting married tomorrow,” Bucky solemnly states as he puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “If you’re going to do something you better do it soon.” 

“I know Buck, but what could I say to her? I haven’t been able to tell her how I feel about her for years.” Steve looked out over the lake, his eyes pricking with tears. “She made her decision.” 

“You’re an idiot. You’ve been in love with her since you first saw her. If you don’t tell her, she’s going to make the biggest mistake of her life. We both know that,” Bucky sighed, raking a hand over his face. “I know she loves you. You need to talk to her. She can’t marry him Steve, you know the second she does she’ll be gone forever. The person you knew reduced to, whatever this shell of a person is.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked down where the water was gently lapping against the shore. After a few moments, he heard Bucky make his way back to the lodge. As the small waves ebbed and flowed against the shallow shore Steve thought about you and how he was an absolute coward back when you were a big part of his life. 

One and a half years ago

Steve was sketching at Marine Park in Brooklyn during golden hour when everything seemed to glow. He needed a break from his Captain America responsibilities and every time he put his charcoal to the paper everything seemed to melt away. The world was vastly different since he came out of the ice and he felt his heart swell thinking about all the fights he had to endure in order to restore some semblance of peace in the universe. He was happy that he had his best friend back, cleared of the mind control Hydra put in him and he made so many new friends and a family in The Avengers. Yet, as he drew out the skyline on the thick white paper, he couldn’t help but feel like he was still missing something. He knew he needed a break from his duties to figure it out constantly being pulled into a fight was a great distraction, but he knew he needed to figure out what brought meaning to his life. The decision to take time off gnawed at Steve like a dog to a bone, who was he if he wasn’t Captain America?

Steve heard you before he saw you, picking up the fierce tone you were using made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of your reprimand. Steve looked up to see you wedged in between a woman and her dog and a man probably twice your size towering over you, trying to be intimidating. The fact you stepped forward refusing to back down made Steve smile, oddly fond of your bravery. The commotion you were making drew a small crowd and Steve felt a strange pull to join the group to be close to you. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Following this poor woman around like a stalker,” You yelled, poking your finger in his chest. “Did you think she was being coy when she told you to stop following her? Was that some deranged invitation to keep on top of her the rest of the world is unaware of?”

Steve could tell that you were not about to back down as you protected the other woman. The fire in your eyes was something Steve was familiar with in himself before he went into the ice. He noticed the man ball his hands into fists and before you could react he had pulled back to hit you. Steve jumped in and caught the punch, inches from your face.

“You’re gonna want to walk away pal before you make things worse for yourself.” 

Steve’s voice was low in warning. When he glanced over at you, you looked up at him almost offended that he had stepped in. Before Steve could say anything you returned your gaze to the other man and swiftly kneed him in the balls. 

“Stop following women you fucking asshole,” you admonished as the man crumpled to the ground in pain. “I know you probably have a hard time listening to women when they say no because there is just a bunch of empty space where your brain is supposed to be, but maybe take this as a warning.” 

Steve watched you slack jawed as you flagged down a police officer to give a statement to. He observed you as you spoke with the other woman, who was visibly shaken by the incident, with such genuine concern and kindness. He couldn’t stop looking at you as you soothed her with gentle touches and quiet whispers. Steve waited for his turn to speak with the officers regarding the incident, after which the man was taken into custody. When Steve turned around you were walking towards him. 

“Umm thanks for catching the punch,” you said with a shrug. “I could have taken him though.” 

Steve let out a soft chuckle. 

“Well I wouldn’t be much of a superhero if I stood around and let a civilian get clocked for defending someone.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. 

“Yeah but you’re not in the suit, which means you’re off duty. Either way I’m grateful, I have a job interview tomorrow and can’t really show up with a black eye. It wouldn’t really say ‘hire me I’m even tempered and have a keen ability to moderate conflict in a calm respectful manner.’ ”

Steve smiled, letting out a sigh as he cast his eyes to the ground.

 “Oh sweetheart I’m always on duty, comes with the territory.” 

He looked up to see you watching him with kindness and understanding.

“I’m sure that must be a very heavy burden to carry,” You sighed. “I hope you can take a vacation or something soon. It looks like you might need one.”

To say Steve was enamored by you would be the understatement of the century. In the brief time he had spent with you, he had noticed that you were fierce, kind, honest, compassionate, and absolutely stunning. He found himself physically having to shake his head to keep from staring at you.

“I’m Steve,” he blurted out. “I feel like you already know that though. It was really nice of you to say that. Sometimes I only see myself as Captain America, no vacation days in sight.” 

Steve chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Y/N, and I mean it. You shouldn’t feel like you’re always on duty.”  

You pointed your finger at his chest.

“Besides, I’m a tough girl, I can handle myself. You should trust people a bit more Rogers.” 

You gave Steve a cheeky grin and started walking away.

Steve scrambled to follow you, not ready to have your conversation end.

“So, job interview? What do you do?” 

Steve easily kept your stride. When you chuckled Steve swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Would you believe I’m a victim advocate? I have an interview with the state prosecutor. I make sure anyone who has experienced trauma of any sort is represented and protected during court cases and criminal trials,” you stated proudly. 

“After what I just witnessed, I would have been more surprised if you told me you were an accountant.” Steve joked. “Would it be okay if I walked you wherever you’re going? I know you can handle yourself but I’d like to make sure you don’t leave a trail of broken men in your wake.”

You snorted out laughter. 

“Yeah wouldn’t want to get put away for attacking more skeezy men. That sounds great Captain, thank you.”

Steve smiled and kept asking you questions on your walk. He had this need to know everything he could about you since you blew into his life like a sunshower. When Steve got you back to your apartment the sun was just setting.

“Well Rogers, it’s been an interesting day,” you say, nonchalantly fiddling with your keys.

“I’ll say, I didn’t think my day would consist of watching someone stand up for another woman who almost got punched, then kneeing the guy in the balls.” 

Steve smiled.

“I am pleasantly surprised with the way my day turned out,” he told you.

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from if you stick with me Cap.” 

You smirked at Steve grabbing his sketchbook. 

“Here’s my number, if you ever need a little extra adventure in your life, call me,” you said. 

With that you turned the key in the lock and pushed yourself inside the apartment. Steve was left to stand staring at your closed door. He didn’t know what force drove you into his life but knowing you for those few hours made him feel more alive than he had in years.

[spencersawkward]

I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

[ayellowcurtain]

Sobbe where Robbe gets sick, maybe food poisoning or something like that, and Sander races over and is super caring and just looks after him. All the fluff in the world please ☺️☺️☺️🥺🥺🥺

To Robbe: how are you feeling?

Sander bites his lip, tapping his feet as the dots appear and disappear a few times on his conversation with Robbe.

To Sander: I'm okay

Ish

I think it's food poisoning.

Sander sighs, standing up, grabbing everything one hand can reach while still staring at his phone. Robbe never says he's sick. He'll play it cool, and so an okay-ish is already worrying.

To Robbe: I'm coming over.

He puts his phone on his table as he shoves all his pens inside the case, checking to see if Robbe gives him any answer but he doesn't which makes Sander move even faster.

He grabs some clean clothes, and puts his hoodie back on, knowing Robbe will need it when he gets there. His toothbrush, underwear, notebook, sketchbooks, pens, phone and headphones. There's not much he needs other than that, considering the most important part is already there.

He's not sure what can make food poisoning better so he checks with his mom. Her being a doctor always comes in hand.

"How is he feeling?" She asks, her attentive eyes looking through her lashes the second he appears in the kitchen, still typing something on her computer.

Sander sighs, opening the fridge to see what he can take to Robbe. He grabs his bottle of water, some leftover food he ate last night and puts it on the island, opening his bag to make everything fit.

“Probably terrible but he’s acting chill about it.”

His mom snorts, putting her computer aside for a second. “And I assume you’re going there and you won’t be home for a second.”

Sander looks up through his lashes this time, lifting his eyebrows. Yes, he doesn’t know when he’s coming back and his mom is already thinking and quietly tell him to know when to leave, to not annoy Robbe’s mom too much, to let his boyfriend rest for as long as he might need.

“Don’t forget to tell dad or he’ll call and annoy me every five minutes.” Sander leaves his bag open, walking around the island to leave a quic kiss on his mom’s temple, grabbing his tablet that he left there earlier while doing his homework.

“Please, don’t forget your medication.” She says and Sander nods his head, rolling his eyes as he makes another pit stop at the cabinet he leaves his medication right next to the fridge so he won’t forget to drink it with his water every morning. He shows her the plastic container and shoves it inside his bag, leaving home, texting Robbe to tell he’s on his way.

He goes the short way, constantly checking but Robbe doesn’t send any more messages. His mom is the one to open the door for Sander, smiling always so sweetly, already hugging Sander and he’s used to it by now, asking how Robbe is.

“He’s still resting in his bedroom. I just made him some soup and left some water for him to keep drinking. But tell him to do so or he’ll forget.”

“Yeah. My mom said he should just rest, drink water and go back to eating slowly.” Robbe’s mom nods her head, locking the door behind him, helping him take his jacket off.

“He didn’t eat anything today, but I gave him lots of water. He said he was going to watch some movie while he waited for you.”

Sander smiles just thinking about it. A soft, sleepy, needy Robbe that’s probably warm from staying under the covers all day long, hiding in the dark, watching a movie or sipping on the soup his mom is forcing him to eat.

“Do you want to eat anything?” His mom asks while waiting for Sander to get rid of his boots. “I made some pasta for myself, but you should here in the kitchen if you want. Robbe will kill you if you eat around him.”

Sander snorts because Robbe actually would. He’s hungry but not too much so he can wait until later, when Robbe will sleep before he does and he has some time to kill before he gets sleepy himself.

“I’ll eat later, thank you.”

She smiles and nods her head, going back to the living room so Sander can go upstairs and meet his sick, beautiful boyfriend. He knocks on the door and puts his head inside, smiling when Robbe finds him instantly, smiling.

“Hello, sleepyhead.” Sander closes the door carefully behind him, locking in case they end up sleeping naked because it’s too hot for clothes under the heavy comforter.

“Hi. You took forever to get here.” Robbe whines, pulling his comforter to his chin. Sander sighs, and rolls his eyes fondly, taking his jeans off, leaving it with his bag on the chair, watching as his boyfriend move to the side to make some room for him.

“You want me to close the curtains?” Sander asks already moving to he big window. It’s a bright night outside, the full moon shining with no cloud to get in the way. Robbe still as beautiful as that first night, and Sander loves to see him under the moon light but that’s not practical for a night in, cuddling in bed with one of them feeling like shit. He closes because he knows the answer, he was just being nice by asking.

“I can’t seem to pay attention to any movie I try to watch.” Robbe explains, pushing Sander’s side of the comforter down, opening his arms, ready to lock Sander close to him using all his arms and legs.

Sander sits on the bed, taking his hoodie off, offering it to Robbe and he grabs it but doesn’t put it on, just keeps it on his side of the bed for later. By the way the mattress is burning hot, Sander can tell his boyfriend has a fever but he doubts Robbe doesn’t know that already so he lies down, purring when he gets close enough where he can feel an almost completely naked Robbe, even softer than Sander imagined, his underwear rolling up his thighs a little bit.

“How are you really feeling?” Sander asks again, gently resting his hand on Robbe’s ass, helping him hook his leg around Sander’s waist.

“Fucking hot.” Robbe complains.

“You really are, my god.”

“Shut up.” Robbe hides against his neck, and Sander can feel his hair strands damp still, sticking to Robbe’s head a little bit. “You don’t even believe in him.”

“I believe in God because whatever that is, it made you.”

Robbe laughs softly, and doesn’t answer with some smartass comeback. He’s already completed relaxed, and Sander is sure he has no energy in him. But maybe the fever is a sign that the worst is almost over. Hopefully tomorrow morning Robbe will be fully recovered.

“You’re so handsome. And I love you so fucking much, Robin.” Sander whispers against the top of his head, pushing all his hair to the side, keeping what he can behind Robbe’s ear.

He stretches his neck as much as he can, seeing the empty bowl on the nightstand.

“How was the soup?”

Robbe only nods his head, and Sander kisses what he can reach without moving of his face and hair, pulling the cover to his shoulder. Normally he would pull it to his chin but that way Robbe would be completely covered and he would melt away.

“You wanna drink some more water? Try to watch the movie again?”

“No.” Robbe says with his pouty voice. “We’ll watch tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay, captain.”

Robbe looks up at him and Sander leaves a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I love you. Thank you for coming.”

“It’s my pleasure, cutie.” He runs his hand from the small of Robbe’s back to his ribs, checking his arms, and neck too. “Tomorrow we’ll also take a bath in the morning, before your mom wakes up.”

Robbe purrs, hugging him tighter.

“And you’ll behave yourself because it’s just a bath to see if it helps with this fever.”

“Sander...” Robbe whines, and pouts and makes his whole scene and Sander watches, kissing him longer this time, loving the feeling of their lips sticking to each other when he moves away.

“If your fever is gone maybe we don’t have to behave so much.”

Robbe smiles, nodding his head, kissing Sander for a long time now.

[tobesobri]

Bust | Part One: Chisel (7.8k)

“Disappointed?” She tilted her head, smirking at him. She had no right to think he liked her better than Rose. She, herself, liked Rose better too. So she was sure he had to be at least a little bit sad to see Rose missing.

He smiled and the second she saw those dimples she was reminded of his Instagram all over again.

“A little,” he nodded, pinching his thumb and index finger together in the air and she painfully agreed.

“Well, you get me all by myself tonight.” She didn’t realize how it sounded until it was too late. Until she was cringing at all the sexual insinuations she’d just made for absolutely no reason. She could have said something else that wasn’t laced in an innuendo. But no, of course not. She had to continue her embarrassing streak when it came to Harry.

Instead of being creeped out by her, however, and pulling a confused and slightly terrified face, he laughed. And, on God, his laugh was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard. This wasn’t the first time the sound of his laughter graced her eardrums, but it was the first time he was laughing because of something she said that wasn’t about crooked penises.

“Lucky me.”

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

story masterlist | my masterlist

It’s not her forte. Her hands don’t know how to hold onto things. They tremble under pressure. They mess things up no matter how hard she tries.

Not that she had really tried very hard to begin with.

Sculpting was just not something she saw herself doing. Ever. Not with her lack of agility and poor attention to detail. But to appease her whining best friend… she’d do just about anything.

The class was held in a little art studio with large windows for ventilation and tall ceilings to display the mass amounts of student artwork on butcher block shelves. She never thought she’d be back in a classroom type setting after graduating college, but here she was.

Learning, what she proclaimed as, a useless skill.

The studio was smack dab in the middle of an inclined street. Little quaint buildings that sat on an angle because why not pour foundations on a hill and make her weekly walks to the studio a little sweatier than she would have preferred. Even if it was winter in their little beach village town. Sweat still happened. It just happened underneath a scarf and a hand-knitted beanie from the sewing shop next door.

She could not deny, however, that the late afternoon classes every Wednesday and Saturday brought her way more joy than she’d anticipated. She looked forward to meeting up with Rose at the bottom-of-the-hill cafe, sharing the daily special with her before making their way up to the studio. It was calm in the middle and end of her hectic weeks that she most definitely needed.

What she didn’t need, however, what she most certainly did not look forward to, what she could have done without, what took her joy and smashed it against a wall was him.

The instructor.

Harry ‘I have nice hands and a misleading smile’ Styles.

It had only been two weeks into their classes and he had already told her one of her bowls was garbage. That the way she sculpted a face was terrifying. That she couldn’t draw for shit and that made her attempts at sculpting even worse.

So by Saturday of their second week, she didn't care anymore. He was a jerk and she would be the best pain in his ass she knew how to be.

While everyone called him Harry, like he’d asked them to the very first day, she called him Mr. Styles. Just to see the way his eyes rolled back into his head and his nostrils flared. While everyone asked him insightful questions, like what glaze was best to use or what tool sculpted eyes most efficiently, she asked him if she could use the bathroom.

She got a fucking kick out of irritating him. Knowing he went home after their classes just as irritated as she’d been. With clenched fists and a pounding headache.

It helped that he was insanely too attractive to be teaching a bunch of millennials about sculpting in his free time.

“You should really leave him alone, he might kick us out, you know,” Rose said on their first third week walk up Justice Hill. There was no justice in walking uphill, and most fucking certainly not in the humidity-ridden beachside town. She found the street name personally offensive.

“Oh fuck him. If he kicks us out, he’ll have to refund us.” Y/N did not, even for a second, bother to lower her voice as they neared the studio, knowing any one of the other students could hear her if they were to walk by.

“Refund us what? We got the class for free, remember?”

Y/N racked her brain like she’d completely forgotten that little detail before shrugging it off. “Whatever. He won’t kick us out.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Before she could make some stupid remark about how Harry secretly liked her pestering him or about how much he seemed much too impressed by Rose’s progress to ever get rid of them, the devil himself turned the corner in front of them.

He came out from an alleyway that connected the street to a tiny parking lot. And while they were going uphill, he was coming down. He was hard to miss and so were they, but still he attempted to not see them.

“What a prick,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as they got closer to each other. And almost as if he could read her lips, he rolled his eyes so fucking hard she thought maybe they’d finally pop right out of his head this time.

“Shush,” Rose warned as the three of them finally met in the middle, at the door to the studio that was decorated with a bright yellow ‘Open’ sign, children’s drawings, hand-painted hours of operation, and one too many polaroids of past students and their sculpting creations.

They all stood and stared at each other for a moment before he opened the door first, holding it as, to Y/N’s surprise, he let them go in first. And while she was still in shock at the gesture, his body language said it all. Like he was forcing himself to be nice to the dynamic duo, to the bane of his existence. While she was too distracted by Harry and his clay-stained trousers and cable-knit sweater with a cartoon deer embroidered on it, Rose walked into the studio first. Giving Harry a polite smile that he returned almost… genuinely.

And right when Y/N made a move to follow, Harry stepped in front of her. She jolted back as he just about let the door slam her in the face.

Today was going to be fantastic.

*                                              *                                 *

“Right, so,” Harry began, clapping his dry hands together as he took a seat behind his messy table at the front of the studio. “I know some of you haven’t finished your heads yet, but our focus today will still be on the bodies. We’ll have a catch up on Saturday to make up for it.”

Y/N sought out her head on the wall where she’d placed it last week beside Rose’s, realizing for the first time just how ugly it really was. And to think she’d been trying to sculpt Harry’s annoying face. Even more annoying that no matter what she did, he was always a lot more handsome than her hunk of polymer clay.

“... because, like I mentioned, we have special guests today who will be modeling for you.” Harry stood again while two very thin and very conventionally perfect people came out in white robes. Y/N couldn’t help but gag.

“This is Hope and Jordan.” Harry motioned as he introduced them, not getting any further in his instructions before Y/N raised her hand in the back of the class.

Rose attempted to get her to put it down, too, because Harry was clearly in the middle of something, but it didn’t really work out so well. Y/N was a stubborn son of a bitch.

“Yeah?” He pointed at her, sighing while planting his hands on his hips. He knew nothing she had to ask was going to be at all beneficial to the group.

She cleared her throat and just from the smirk on her face, he braced for impact. “Are they going to be modeling nude?”

She made just about everyone blush, except for Harry. He hated how she never took anything seriously. That the art he’d spent years perfecting enough to teach meant nothing to her. It was all just a primary school joke in her eyes.

“Yes, actually,” he answered bluntly and then returned to what he was going to say before Y/N’s interruption. “So I want everyone to get a piece of paper and while they’re modeling, do a rough sketch of what you might want the body of your sculpture to look like. The importance is to get the proportions down so that when you use the clay, you’ll know how much you’ll need for each part. Just like we did for the heads.”

Harry walked around the class once the models were stripped and the sketching began. Rose started immediately, concentration on her face as she flipped between the female model and her piece of sketchbook paper.

All Y/N had was a scratch piece of grey-toned mixed media paper she’d found laying on their table. And absolutely no clue where to even begin.

She stared at Harry instead of the naked models, watching as he helped others around the room, pointing at their sketches and where they could improve. His other hand behind his back that gave her perfect access to stare at his rings. Remembering how he’d taken them off guide their first few sculpting lessons. Remembering how his hands had so gently but so fucking firmly caressed the mound of clay into the exact shapes he wanted like he knew exactly what to do with those things.

“See it’s going just as I expected back here.” When his voice was at her ear, she jumped out of her skin and out of her daydreams. Twisting her head around to him as he stood behind her, she found him staring over her shoulder at her blank piece of paper.

She narrowed her eyes at him once she’d fully processed what he said. “Sorry I’m trying to figure out the best way to scale up that dude’s micro-cock, proportionally, if you don’t mind.”

He just about choked on his own spit, and rightfully so. But when he glanced to her eyes instead of her disappointing blank canvas, with his eyebrows furrowed and his cute little nostrils flared just the way she liked them, it was clear his reaction wasn’t for the reasons she’d intended.

He was quiet. Lips pursed, mind completely empty apart from hearing her say cock over and over again. Echoing against his skull. Making a home for itself in his hippocampus for later purposes. When he was not in a class full of students with their eyes on him, watching him get hard at the fucking way she said cock.

“Leave you to it then,” he cleared his throat and continued on.

“He may not kick us out, but killing you is still an option,” Rose whispered once Harry was a safe distance away from them.

Y/N leaned back in her seat to watch him walk down the rest of their row. His hands behind his back again, eyes wandering over shoulders.

As long as he had those rings on while he choked her out, she was okay with that.

*                                              *                                 *

Everyone had moved on to their bodies. Gathering the clay they needed from the front and using their sketches as guidelines to build around the pre-made wire and aluminum foil armature. Most everyone had some sort of a form being attached to the heads of their sculptures by the time Y/N even got started.

Because she decided on using Harry as reference after all and he would just not stand still.

With the models gone, they were on their own, with help from Harry of course. He played several videos and gave various demonstrations to aide them. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect, but after she gave it her all for about ten minutes, she was ready to give up. Her body looked like a very lumpy, very deformed version of Shrek.

She took a break again, watching Rose sculpt for a while instead. She watched Harry sometimes too as he walked around the class again in gloves this time. Smoothing out features and picking up tools to aid in the process of forming collarbones and wrinkles.

The studio was in its typical state of disarray. Random cups of milky water on every table, pieces of clay smushed into the tile floor, tools and used gloves strewn about with no rhyme or reason. Harry thrived in that kind of environment while Y/N well… she hated it.

She wanted organization and cleanliness. Her nine-to-five called for that kind of thing. But she was slowly getting used to it. To letting go and embracing the mess while she was here. She wasn’t the one that had to clean it all up anyways.

The only time she wasn’t daydreaming was when Harry started up their aisle again, walking in front of their table this time however. He helped a couple others at the end of their row, watched some of them work before eventually landing right in front of Rose’s station.

He cocked his head to the side while he watched her struggle to form an even pair of breasts on her headless lady. And even though Y/N was trying her best to look busy, she just couldn’t help it.

Rose handed her work in progress over to him with a frustrated huff after he offered his assistance. And like… no way was Y/N missing out on Mr. Harry fucking Styles fingering some clay into the perfect set of boobs. No way.

Especially fucking not when he removed his gloves and used those fingers in their bare glory the way she wished he’d use them someplace else. She watched while he slapped some more clay on Rose’s poor flat-chested model and proceeded to smooth it out with his expert fingertips. She watched the clay melt under his touch, watching him dip into their shared cup of water to aid the process. She looked away long enough to admire the concentration on his face, the way he bit down on his lip and furrowed his brows the way she was used to. She watched again while he fixed all of Rose’s mistakes just by gliding his thumbs over the two perfect little lumps on her sculpture that sure as hell hadn’t started out so perfectly.

She had no idea why Harry sculpting a tiny set of breasts on what would eventually become a mermaid got her so hot and bothered but… it did. It did so fucking much, she was almost salivating like a dog by the end of it, thinking about what his hands could do with the real deal. But then he handed it back to Rose with a content smile on his face and burst Y/N’s little bubble.

“Might be better,” he said softly and Rose nodded in agreement. She hadn't noticed before, but when he stood to his full height it was clear he’d been leaning over on their table. Closer to the both of them than he’d ever really been before. And she knew he was tall, taller than Rose, who was five foot seven inches herself. And not just that but his shoulders were broad and his arms were a humble amount of muscular. Almost like he was a sculptor that kneaded clay a hundred hours a week. Maybe that was why she was a soaking wet mess.

He stretched his gloves back onto his hands and glanced Y/N’s direction. Eyes going straight from her disaster of an art piece to her flushed face and back.

“Don’t even know where to start to fix yours up,” he commented while moving slightly to his right until he stood directly in front of Y/N this time.

She looked at her abomination, wondering if it would be her worst idea to push more of his buttons or not. But, she went for it anyways. Her lack of impulse control would definitely come back to bite her in the ass one day.

“It’s the penis. Still haven’t gotten that down yet.”

He nodded, amused rather than his previous reaction to her antics. “Can see that, yeah. He’s got a bit of a crooked willy there.” Harry poked at it with his index finger and she became hyper aware of his closeness this time while he leaned over her tabletop again. Because his hands were right there, almost touching her own. And they were big, bigger than she realized. She could see him perfectly through the transparent gloves, his long fingers with clipped nails at the end that were well taken care of, considering.

She would need to soak herself in holy water for a while after this.

“Oh, is that not what the male anatomy looks like?” She teased, not fully realizing they were getting along for the first time and it was because of dicks. Because she’d put an oddly shaped protrusion on her figure before she’d even done much else with the blob of clay stuck to her form.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head at her and standing up straight again. “Maybe if you paid attention when the models were out here, you’d know that.”

“Maybe if you hired someone who’s cock I could actually see from all the way back here without a fucking magnifying glass.” She was only slightly aware of how fully immersed she was in the debate over this penis.

But all he heard was cock again. She really needed to stop saying that. Because this time his mind was a little more imaginative while he stared at her lips and thought about the way she might say that on her knees in front of him.

He shook his head clear. She was an insufferable nuisance that he just barely tolerated on a good day. He didn't need her clogging up his brain with her cock talk too.

“Just fix it.” He mumbled.

She huffed when he left her to her own devices, not even bothering to offer his help, but she really shouldn’t expect any less. If he helped her, he would be doing it all for her. And that was hardly the point of taking a class to learn how to sculpt if the hot instructor was just going to do everything for you.

“Is there a reason why you’re arguing with him about penises?” Rose asked, hushing her voice around the apparently taboo word.

“It’s fun. And if I’m going to sit here in this stupid class with you I’m going to have some fun.” Y/N, on the other hand, was not hushed or subtle at all, as she ripped off the phallic piece of clay from her sculpture.

Rose cringed when she glanced past Y/N to find Harry looking right at her. He had been helping someone a few seats down and clearly not far enough away to have missed what Y/N said. All of his features drooped and he looked genuinely upset. Rose wished she could put a filter over Y/N’s mouth to save everyone from her insensitive outbursts. Especially Harry. He always tried so hard and for Y/N to brush everything off and boil it all down to a ‘stupid class’ even broke Rose’s heart a little. So she could only imagine how Harry felt.

After their typical hour and a half was up, once everyone at least had some semblance of a body minus the legs and arms, Harry called the class back to order.

“Alright, that’s time. You can put your armatures back on the shelves, carefully. As always, I’ll be around for a little while after. Have a great rest of your night, I’ll see you all on Saturday.” He finished his spiel, turning away to help clean up before a lightbulb went off in his head and his voice rang through the studio again, “Oh, and make sure you bring your sketches back with you!”

Everyone worked on cleaning up, including Harry. And while Y/N took both her and Rose’s sculptures over to their respective spots on the shelves, Rose walked up to the front of the class without any warning whatsoever.

She tapped Harry’s shoulder and watched while his smile faded just the tiniest bit after he turned to find her. That Rose’s poor face had to be associated with the thunderstorm that was Y/N.

“I just wanted to say sorry… about Y/N.” Both Rose and Harry glanced at the girl in question near the back of the studio, playing with their two sculpted bodies like they were barbie dolls. “I forced her to do this with me so she hasn’t really taken it seriously. But I’m really enjoying the class, you’re a fantastic instructor.”

His smile returned again and if he was being honest with himself, it really did make him feel better to hear her say that. He had some sort of a reasoning for Y/N’s horrible attitude and while he wished it was her apologizing and not Rose, he figured it was good enough.

“Thank you. You’re doing really well so far. I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah?”

She nodded, giving him one last polite smile before trotting back to Y/N and helping her clean up the last bits around their workstation.

“Please do not tell me you were flirting with him.” Y/N gagged, using a ball of clay to gather the little pieces spread across their table like a magnet.

“No, actually, I was apologizing to him for your behavior.”

Y/N snapped her head up, first at Rose and then Harry all the way across the room from them. “You what?”

“He’s just trying to teach and you’ve been a fucking knobhead.”

Y/N gasped in fake offense, which was actually slightly real offense. “Excuse me, he made fun of my bowl the first day, you seem to have forgotten about that.”

“A toddler could have made a better bowl than that, Y/N, and you know it.”

She frowned, grumpily averting her eyes to the table with her arms crossed over her chest like she really was a toddler.

“I’m just saying,” Rose started, a bit calmer this time, “stop pestering him.”

*                                              *                                 *

Y/N thought about everything Rose had said. About how much she wished she could take things seriously and not constantly get on people’s nerves all the time, but she simply did not know how to. Taking the piss out of things and making jokes was how she got through her days.

But she did agree. Harry didn’t deserve her behavior. Maybe he was a bit of a jerk to her to begin with, but insulting his class might’ve been crossing a line.

Because she didn’t actually think it was stupid. She quite enjoyed listening to him. She liked learning something new and following his instructions as he walked them through some of his techniques. She liked being connected to all the people in the little studio, even if only briefly. Complete strangers all shared that one little thing in common and it made her all fuzzy and warm inside each time she met up with Rose at the end of every Wednesday and Saturday.

Hiding behind a bit of humor, however, was a lot more comfortable than admitting she found pleasure in anything as corny as sculpting classes.

On Friday night, boredom got the best of her and she took a chance upon searching Harry’s name on Instagram while she took her weekly bath. It had been Rose’s idea, the bath, not stalking her attractive sculpting instructor online. That decision was completely her own. But the baths at the end of stressful weeks had a little influence from her best friend, as did most aspects of her life. Baths were a waste of time, in her opinion, and she preferred the efficiency of showering. But Rose had given her nice smelling soaps and weird fizzy things for bath time and well… she couldn’t let them go to waste.

So, amid her regularly scheduled, once-a-week bath, she scrolled shamelessly through Harry’s feed. Because he did, in fact, have an instagram. And she only knew it was him because every fourth post was a video and in said videos were his hands. And, fuck, they were just as nice on film as they were in person.

He didn’t post much of his face, which she thought was an actual crime, but there was a lot about him and his sculpting. She found out it had been his sister’s birthday recently, who, when she smiled, looked just like him. He’d also just finished a piece he seemed really proud of, a clay head and bust of a pit bull, to which he linked in the caption about a local shelter who rescued the breed specifically and needed donations. Her heart nearly fucking melted.

Harry wasn’t much of an open book, though, unless he let his art do most of the talking. He seemed to enjoy sculpting women the most, which is probably why he’d been so good at de-lumping the breasts on Rose’s mermaid. But all the female sculptures he made weren’t sexual at all. They had meaning behind them. Like every single clay face she clicked on throughout his photos had a story. Like he was uplifting rather than fetishizing.

And not every single one of them was skinny and had perfect features. She was shocked to see at least half of the creations she’d skimmed through were of larger women with imperfect breasts at times and asymmetrical faces. Not sticking to typical European beauty standards as she may have originally assumed he might.

It made glancing down at her very much imperfect body feel a little less like an attack. Because Harry spent his time putting all his love into his little sculptures with diverse body types that she almost felt ashamed for ever hating hers.

Once she was done clicking on just about every single post he’d ever made, she finally found a selfie. Well… not really a selfie. Someone else had clearly taken it of him candidly while he had been working. But there was an awfully cute smile on his face and very familiar dimples poking into his cheeks that make her heart warm up again.

He wasn’t a damn thing like she’d assumed he was from the beginning. She thought his art centered around the ideal, and that maybe he was a little condescending because of it. But his Instagram told a different story about his art. And she wanted to know so much more about him.

She was completely lost in her dreams about him that just the smidge of distraction led to accidentally liking a photo of his from two years prior.

She’d have to move countries. Change her name. Delete everything. Never look back. Y/N? A distant memory.

Before dropping her phone in the tub and really making a complete ass out of herself, she threw it, instead, onto her furry rug in the middle of the bathroom and sunk herself down into the water. Wondering if it would really be so bad if she just drowned a little bit.

Because she desperately wanted to. There was nothing she could do. Not even unliking the picture would help. He’d still see the notification. Still click onto her page and realize who in the fuck had just liked a two-year-old post of his that he, himself, had probably even forgotten about.

She wanted nothing more than to sink her head under the pink-tinted water and never come back up. Her mind would not stop with the visualizations of what his reaction might be. Things he might be thinking. Like is this that fucking bitch from my sculpting class? Or whether or not she might find herself blocked by morning.

God, just make it stop.

But suddenly her phone buzzed and her heart just about stopped beating. It had to be the notification that Harry blocked her. Was that even a thing? Did Instagram notify you if someone blocked you? And why was her phone on silent? Because her Instagram notifications and her text messages made very different sounds. If it was just a text, she’d consider ignoring it. She’d continue marinating in all her shame a little while longer. But it ate her alive not knowing what the buzzing was from.

So, carefully, she pulled herself upright and reached across the floor until she had her phone in her hand. Before she clicked the screen on, though, she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

But when she opened her eyes and found out why her phone had buzzed, she let that breath out and settled her ass down again. It was Rose.

Hey, I can’t make it tomorrow for class. Felt like absolute shit at work today and had to go home because as it turns out I have the flu.

“Fuck,” Y/N mumbled to herself. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go alone because facing Harry after she just did what she did was one thing, but doing it all by herself was another. But a part of her did still want to go tomorrow. The part before her horrific accident when she was full on getting a love boner over Harry. She’d wanted to see him again so fucking bad.

Okay. I probably won’t go too then

Y/N physically frowned at the idea of waiting another five days to see Harry again. Her brain really needed to make its fucking mind up about him. Did she want to see him or not?

No! You have to go and tell me what I missed!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but felt relieved. Even after her embarrassing slip up, her desire to see Harry again still prevailed. And she hated it. How was she even supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, both of them knowing damn well she’d been stalking his Instagram back to two fucking years ago?

*                                              *                                 *

It was beyond weird sitting in their usual cafe on Justice Hill alone, even without the whole Instagram fiasco of the previous night she was trying everything in her power to forget about.

However all the desperate attempts to bury that awful experience were fruitless when she glanced across the room over her latte and found a very familiar set of grumpy-looking eyes already staring at her. But once she did notice him, he immediately looked away, stepping up to the counter to order his own cup of coffee.

She nearly choked on her drink, having to set it down and wipe what had spilled onto her chin off with a napkin she’d already used to sop up another one of her messes.

Of the three weeks now they’d been going to classes and frequenting the cafe just before, she’d never seen Harry. It was like he didn’t have a life outside being an instructor. He just popped up in the studio and she always left before him so she had no idea what he did after class either.

But seeing him here was like seeing a fucking unicorn in real life.

She couldn’t help watching him either, even if she knew she shouldn't. But, in her defense, he was wearing beautiful wine-colored corduroy pants with a tight white t-shirt tucked into them and a beige coat thrown over his arm to match. And for shoes he had on his usual white vans that had gained a few more scuff marks since the last time she’d seen him. His fashion would look terrible on anyone besides him.

He glanced her way again, briefly, when he left the counter with his cup, fighting his legs from walking in her direction but not exactly winning that battle.

And to her surprise, he stood right in front of her, behind the chair where Rose usually sat.

And when she looked up at him, he completely forgot why he had come over. He had no fucking clue what he was doing there. But it was too late now for him to back away and pretend like it never happened.

“Your friend's not coming?” His voice shook, but she didn’t notice with the way he finally took his fucking eyes off of her and gave her a chance to breathe again. He glanced at his watch just to confirm that it was, in fact, only five minutes until class started and it seemed reasonable to assume Rose wasn’t meeting her before then.

She pulled herself together and pretended like his close presence wasn’t intimidating her in the slightest.

“Disappointed?” She tilted her head, smirking at him. She had no right to think he liked her better than Rose. She, herself, liked Rose better too. So she was sure he had to be at least a little bit sad to see Rose missing.

He smiled and the second she saw those dimples she was reminded of his Instagram all over again.

“A little,” he nodded, pinching his thumb and index finger together in the air and she painfully agreed.

“Well, you get me all by myself tonight.” She didn’t realize how it sounded until it was too late. Until she was cringing at all the sexual insinuations she’d just made for absolutely no reason. She could have said something else that wasn’t laced in an innuendo. But no, of course not. She had to continue her embarrassing streak when it came to Harry.

Instead of being creeped out by her, however, and pulling a confused and slightly terrified face, he laughed. And, on God, his laugh was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard. This wasn’t the first time the sound of his laughter graced her eardrums, but it was the first time he was laughing because of something she said that wasn’t about crooked penises.

“Lucky me.”

He left her so fucking speechless, that after he started backing away from her table, reminding her to not be late, she still ended up being late. Because she sat in her chair for what felt like a century repeating his two words over and over again in her head.

Lucky me.

She knew he was only teasing but the way he’d just gone along with her original joke and how his voice sounded when he said it, she could not believe it. She could also not believe how Harry had some kind of massive hold on her that she sat staring at a wall for ten minutes trying to figure out how to operate properly again just to get up out of her chair.

Lucky fucking me.

She could scream.

If she wasn’t in public.

There was an extra pep in her step as she took Justice Hill alone this time, partially because of how giddy Harry had made her and partially because she was late… right after he told her not to be. But how was she supposed to be on time after what he’d just done to her emotions. And to the throbbing mess between her legs, but that's another story entirely.

Everyone was all over the place when she’d finally arrived, though, so it made slipping in the back that much easier. Not that she got past Harry’s watchful eyes, though, but at least she wasn’t interrupting anything while the class readied their workstations for another full night of going ham on their sculptures.

Harry kept his eyes on her mostly the entire time she did the same at her empty little area, watching as she tucked her purse under the desk for safekeeping and threw a couple tools he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her use onto the table. When she wandered off to the wall of shelves to retrieve her absolutely horrifying work of art, he finally gave her some privacy again. But he couldn’t help the fact that he’d been worried sick when she didn’t show up on time after he’d just seen her at the cafe, thinking something horrible could have happened to her between there and here.

So making sure she was unscathed before he, too, got his area organized was essential.

She sat in her chair and stared at what she had made the past three weeks. They’d started with something simple on the first day, taking a pre-cut slice of clay and free-handing a bowl with a few tips from Harry thrown in here and there. Then they jumped straight in after he showed them a few clips of sculptors working, pausing to explain specific things about creating a head and face. They were given everything they needed to make sculpting a complete figurine of a human body as easy as possible.

And still, she managed to create a combination of Shrek and the abominable snowman.

She huffed, wondering if she asked nicely enough Harry would let her just start all over. But before she could even think to do so, he clapped his hands together and got everyone’s attention for today’s mini-tutorial.

He explained smoothing to them and how there were many different ways of doing it so that your end results weren't littered in fingerprints. He reminded them to use water to smooth out the initial shapes of the clay they wanted and if they were having a really hard time with too much warmth from their fingers to use the gloves.

He ventured a little into detail work of the bust, showing a short clip of another artist forming collar bones with just two tools and her fingers. He explained what tools those were and why they were the most efficient for details and went on some more about other detail tools that were good for different things.

And the entire time she was far too lost in his voice and how his eyes lit up passionately when he rambled to even think about the fact that she wasn’t taking a single note for Rose’s sake.

They’d done a few lessons on details for the face, but they had yet to really get that far, only having put on tentative eyelids, lips and a nose for their heads before he really dove deep into details in what she assumed would be a full class later on.

And when he finally took a break to ask for any questions, she was, of course, the first to raise her hand. He thought about ignoring it, knowing all too well that anytime Y/N raised her hand in the back of his classroom, she was up to no good. But he was too nice to do that to anyone, even her.

So he called on her by nodding his head and she cleared her throat while he grimaced, expecting the worst.

“So, um, for example if we were going to do bigger details like abs on a male figure, what would be the best tool for that?”

He could have sworn he was having a heart attack. He had to blink a few times just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She was actually asking him a legitimate question, and a good one at that. He had to repeat what she said in his head first, just to make sure it was real, before he answered, completely unprepared.

“Um… well after you lay out the clay where you want on the body, you can use one of the knives to blend the edges,” he held up an example of one for her, “and then a large ball or oval tool like this,” he held up another, “to smooth everything out. You’d probably want a more blunt pointed end to shape them, though, after you blend the clay in.”

She nodded like she’d been fully absorbing every single word coming out of his mouth and then he watched as she dug around quietly in the tool kit on her desk, in search of the types of tools he’d mentioned.

He could not fucking believe it though. She finally showed a stitch of interest in learning about sculpting. And he had no idea why she decided to right now. Maybe it was because she was without her partner in crime, but either way he was stunned. Absolutely fucking marveled.

After a few more questions and some demonstrations, he let everyone go and continue working on their projects while he circled the room as he normally did. And he found himself glancing at her from time to time, all by herself in the back with a genuine look of concentration on her face as she attempted making her creature a little less loch ness monster and a little more human.

Eventually, after he figured she was giving it enough effort for him to step in and help if she needed, he headed her way. And just as she sensed him walking down her aisle, while she was busy shaving off clay, a piece of it went flying into the air, completely out of control.

He stopped in his tracks after almost being smacked in the face with a chunk of clay and bent over to pick it up before someone squished it into the bottom of their shoes. He leaned over the edge of the table in front of her again, setting the piece of clay down next to her gently while she bit her lips between her teeth and tried to hide her embarrassed red cheeks behind her hands.

“Sorry!” She squealed at him, further digging herself into a hole.

He shook his head, “S’alright. Not the first time that’s happened.”

She laughed at the thought of him actually getting hit in the money maker with a hunk of clay and it eased her worries a little.

“So how are those abs going then?” He asked.

She stared at her sculpture for a moment before she sighed and turned it around to face him. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, but it was still pretty rough.

“Mind if I…?” He held his hands out and she, without a single hesitation, handed it over to him.

He immediately grabbed the shaving tool she’d been using, and since it still sat next to her where she’d put it down moments ago, his fingers brushed against her hand when he picked it up. Sending every one of her nerves in the general area on a field day to mess with her nether regions again. It’s just… his fucking hands were an art form in and of themselves. His knuckles prominent, stretching soft skin around the bone. His veins protruding every time he made a more delicate move that required precision. Even the ones on his arms underneath the ink when he was a bit more rough with her sculpture sent her over the moon, while he shaved off bits and pieces with firm pressure to define the shape of the body and somehow create a human-like figure from her mess.

Then he started smoothing down the surface with a little water on his fingers and she went batshit. His hands while dry were one thing, but sparkling, wet, slippery fingertips? Lord have mercy.

She watched him spread a chunk of extra clay onto what would be the figure’s chest to build it up a little more with the knowledge of their previous conversations about dicks and abs making it clear she was attempting to make a male figure. She couldn’t help but watch his muscles flex underneath his tight white t-shirt. From far away across the cafe it had caught her attention. And now right here, she was definitely not letting it go unnoticed. It wasn’t too tight that he looked ridiculous, but just the right amount to show off every curve of his biceps and triceps and whatever other -ceps he had hiding underneath the shirt. He was normally in oversized tops so she was taking full advantage while she still had the chance to.

When he handed it back to her, it was like he’d done some kind of magic spell to get it to look so good after what she’d given him to work with. He leaned forward a little more and pointed at the figure’s chest and she was only halfway paying attention to him when he spoke, mostly focusing on how close he was and every single time he accidentally brushed his skin against hers.

“So if you want to make the abs,” he paused to glance over and dig through her pile of tools until he found the one he was looking for. “Use this to kind of sketch out the shape like we did with the faces,” he took the ball tool and rolled it down the middle of the chest, making a short indent to separate where the pectorals might be, “then you can add on the dimension like I was saying earlier.”

She took over the tool when he flipped it around and gave it to her so she could try for herself. And he watched for a short while as she did what he said to do, sketching out tentative abs, but not really knowing exactly what they looked like to come to any sort of realistic end. Her figure started to look like a shirtless Johnny Bravo.

He just giggled and pointed his stupid finger back into her personal space, smoothing down her mistakes until they disappeared, “Have you never seen a six-pack that wasn’t on a cartoon character?”

She racked her brain, trying to say something funny, but once she looked into his eyes, nothing came to mind. “Of course I have. I just don’t know how to make them look realistic.” She couldn’t exactly remember the last time she’d been faced with a naked man’s chest, but she had seen them before.

“Well…” Harry sighed, resting his head on his hand and staring at her sculpture sideways, “he doesn’t have to have abs.”

And then she said it. Something worse than her earlier set of words back at the cafe. She had no clue what was going on with her tonight, but she needed an ass-kicking for it.

“Do you have abs?”

“Me?” His eyes flickered up to hers in shock and it was far too late for her to backtrack, she was here and she had to face what she’d done. Even while he looked at her like she was fucking insane.

“Uh, well. I mean…” She had no fucking clue what she meant. And even if she did, she sure as shit wasn’t telling him.

Then it clicked in his brain. “You’re not using me as reference, are you?”

After a solid three seconds of just staring at him, she laughed. “No, of course not.”

“Hope so after you gave him that wonky penis.”

She sighed once they were through it. Once he’d proved, yet again, that he didn’t make her embarrassing statements feel as bad as they really were. He kind of just... went along with it.

But then she made it even worse.

“So yours isn’t wonky and crooked, then?”

Jesus, fuck Y/N just shut up.

His smile never faded, however, and instead, he leaned close again and whispered, “Maybe one day you’ll be lucky enough to find out.”

[thatasianstereotype]

Shit. I Got To Deal With This Bitch (Again). 

The third installment of my Adrien x Damian AU. 

First: Fuck. I’m Gay. 

Second: Damn, You’re Looking Fine. 

Well, would you look at that? I’m not dead after all. And this took a while to put together understatement of the fucking century. The reason is because life is a busy little shit the English language will not cooperate. I’m thinking of a scene I want to write and somehow words are lost in translating that into the computer and I end up with a white blank screen in the end. 

But moving on to the fic. At first, I was going to have the whole Gabriel-being-put-in-jail and former-friends-thing put as an aftermath because I really wanted to write Marinette and Adrien meeting the Waynes. But I decided to make the aftermath a full-blown fic from @michaelshadow7779′s ideas and extend the trilogy into a four-part series. 

This part will be focused on what happened to Liar-la, Ms. Bustier’s class trying to gain back their friendship with Marinette and Adrien, and Gabriel getting a special visit from both Robin and Ladybug. 

Again, this is a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken. 

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Lila Rossi is a fucking bitch and everyone —Like everyone this time— knew it. 

Her reputation was now in shambles (she’s now known as that pathological liar or that lying bitch) and Ms. Bustier’s class could only stare at her with hatred and anger —feelings that were once directed at Marinette. 

No one entertained her lies anymore. No one really hung out with her anymore. She sat at the back of the class, staring daggers at both Adrien and Marinette all day (just wishing for an akuma that will never appear).

Unfortunately for her, Lila couldn’t transfer out of class and with only 2 more months of the school year left, she couldn’t transfer out of school so she was stuck dealing with the consequences of her actions: being a fucking social outcast.

Because the class was not at all happy with their supposed friend. Tensions ran high during school. Things took a turn for the worse when Ms. Bustier tried to “fix” things in her own way, mentioning how the only reason Lila lied was because of her “disease” and the girl simply wanted to make friends. 

Needless to say, the class did not appreciate their teacher making them out to be fools all this time. 

It was Alya who ripped her a new one. Césaire definitely has a set of lungs on her. And Adrien would be lying if he didn’t say how utterly satisfying it was to watch.

Karma was a bitch. 

Payback was a bitch. 

And Adrien was fucking living in the aftermath. He wondered if it was mean (probably but he didn’t care) that he wished he had popcorn right now. 

All in all, life returned back to normal. 

Well, kind of. 

.

Unfortunately, with the 2 months left in the school year, Ms. Bustier couldn’t exactly be let go because apparently Mr. Damocles didn’t want to deal with the whole paperwork, trying to find a new teacher to replace her, and dealing with the so-called Akuma class. 

That fucker. 

So essentially, he left her at the mercy of her unhappy class, saying she will be let go at the end of the school year. 

Ms. Bustier was unhappy with the arrangement. The class was unhappy with it too. Probably even more so. Since they still got to deal with Rossi’s bitch ass on a daily basis. 

The remaining 2 months of school were spent in a passive-aggressive war. Teacher vs. Students. Where technically the teacher should be respected and they should learn from her but the class was unleashing their collective pettiness. 

And Caline Bustier was fucking done with this job. She wanted to go back in time to when she thought being a teacher was a good idea and shake her past self silly. At this point, she was just counting the days until she can leave for good. 

“Kim. That’s the third time you slept in class this week. If you don’t pay attention, you won’t pass the test next week.” 

“Hold up. I got to ask the certified pathological liar where I put all the fucks I give.” 

“Ok. Don’t forget to ask Marinette if you can actually trust her answer.” 

It was glorious. 

Adrien and Marinette were definitely enjoying the show. 

.

Marinette put down her sketchbook and stared at Damian for a minute. “You’ve been here for a month and a half already. Are you still doing business for your dad?” 

Damian Wayne became a common sight around Françoise Dupont High School and can usually be seen around Adrien and Marinette. After a week of constantly seeing him hang around lunch or in after school activities/clubs, seeing a Wayne soon lost its novelty and people accepted it as the new norm.

“I’m already done with what I need to do at WE’s Paris branch.” He casually plucked flowers from the ground to make a crown for his mon amour who was happily chatting with Luka and Kagami.

“So why are you still here? Don’t you have your own education to finish?”

“My schooling is of no concern. I already earned my diploma a few months ago. It was not at all difficult when I’m already light years ahead of my peers in regards to the dismal educational system my Father forced me to attend."

She raised an unamused eyebrow. “Uh huh. And your family isn’t worried at all about you, a minor, being in a foreign country all by yourself?” 

“They know I’m here. I already informed Father that I will be extending my stay here.”

“And he just accepted it? Just like that?”

"I’m responsible enough to handle myself. I surely do not need Batman watching over me. And you don’t need to worry at all. I’ve been away from home for far longer.”

“You’re completely missing the point.”

“On the contrary, I thought I answered the question perfectly.”

.

When they weren’t playing a petty war with Bustier, the class was trying to get back into Marinette and Adrien’s good graces by inviting them to everything and trying to include the pair in their lives again. They wanted to be friends with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child again. 

“Want to do homework together?”

“How about a study session?” 

“We’re having a sleepover at Juleka’s place, Marinette. We can talk about each other’s love lives like the good old times.” 

“Wanna see the new movie that came out, Adrien? I’ll even pay for your favorite snacks.”

“Come on you two. Let’s hang out in the park. We can get Andre’s ice cream too. It’ll be fun.” 

Spoiler alert: It don’t work. At all. 

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“Hey Marinette, Adrien! Why don’t you sit with us today?” Alya eagerly waved at them from where she was sitting with Nino. 

It was a part of a long list of efforts that the class is trying to include the pair in. And it would be nice if it was just to be nice and friendly, you know. Adrien wasn’t going to be outright mean to them even though they fucking deserve it after how they treated the beautiful and kind goddess that was Marinette because Mari asked him to “Play nice, kitty”. 

But the class kept trying to slide the whole Liar-la thing under the rug as if it was nothing. As if they didn’t shit all over their good name for a two-faced bitch. As if they had no part in making them feel like outcasts just weeks before. As if they didn’t called them hateful names or gave them scornful glares. 

And that’s just fucking wrong. Because it wasn’t nothing. And they weren’t good pals anymore. So stop fucking acting like it. 

Adrien was so done with his former friends/classmates. Marinette even more so. 

Because apparently, saying “Yeah, We want nothing to do with you anymore.” is not fucking clear enough that the pair wanted nothing to do with their former friends. 

Like what the actual fuck. 

Luckily, Mari can sense her kitty’s bad mood and quickly laid a hand on his arm and led them to their seats in the middle row since Liar-la took the back and they will be damned if they sit next to her. 

Alya was utterly aghast. She and the others were trying their best to have things be back to where they were before. Doesn’t Marinette and Adrien want things to be like they were before? When everyone was friends and they were making happy memories together? 

Why won’t they accept their olive branch? They’ll be friends again and everything will be okay just like it was before Lila came. 

Let it be known that Alya Césaire was not a patient person. Like at all. 

She was fuming (like you could see the smoke coming out of her ears) as she walked up to Marinette’s desk, just bursting at the seams with frustration. “I don’t get it. Why are you so cosy with Adrien instead of us? Did you forget he supported Lila too? 

“That was—” Marinette spoke up in defense of her everything-that-actually-matters brother. 

But Alya ignored her and bulldozed right over, slamming her hands down on her desk. “Yeah. He changed his mind later on but the point still stands that he was on Lila’s side just like us so why are you willing to be friends with him but not me and Nino? We were best buds.” 

“Adrien was friends with Lila unwillingly, unlike you guys. His douchebag of a father wanted him to play nice with that harlot for some reason and he had to go along with it or risk being pulled out of school.” 

Alya rolled her eyes (She literally rolled her eyes at that) before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Please. That’s probably a pretty little excuse he gave you be on your good side again. We all know Gabriel will never actually do it.”  

“Are you perhaps referring to the man who rejected the idea of a birthday part for his own son or makes Adrien attend constant photo shoots and a crazy schedule to follow that makes it hard for him to hang out with his friends regularly. That Gabriel?” 

At that, Alya faltered a bit as she uncrossed her arms. 

“Look, Alya. I’m fine with being friendly classmates but I’m not going to be your friend again.” 

And Alya —who wanted things to just be okay again and wanted to go back to being Marinette’s best friend, who was tired of days trying to put so much effort into being Marinette’s best gal again only to be rejected every single time— just let whatever came into her mind to slip out of her mouth. She didn’t watch what she said next and in doing so burnt the last bridge she ever had to Marinette. 

“Maybe Lila was actually right for once when she said the only reason you’re close to Adrien was to use him to get ahead in the fashion industry.” 

Oh shit. 

She really done did it now. 

It was at this point that Marinette’s infinite patience and kindness snapped. Adrien scooted his chair back a bit to get out of the crossfire. He’s a dumbass kitty but he still has self-preservation. 

The grip on her pencil tightened as her eyes narrowed and grew darker, her voice ice cold.  

“You were the one who decided we were done being friends, Césaire.” 

Alya was taken aback, frozen at the biting harshness Marinette directed at her. Whatever comeback she had died in her throat. 

Mari let out a deep breath and her voice was back to neutral. “Look. Maybe someday in the future we can be friends again. But not right now. Please respect my decision.”

And that was the end of that. 

Well kind of. 

Because the ice queen treatment didn’t deter her at all. Alya still persistently tried to get Marinette to be friends with her again until Nino pulled her away and forced her to stop it with her ridiculous antics which aren’t working. 

The rest of their former friends now classmates got the message and left the pair alone. They were friendly and cordial with each other as common courtesy dictate but they had no interaction beyond that. They were nowhere near as close as they once were before Liar-la happened. 

Anyway, school went back to normal. Well as normal as it could be with all the recent changes.

Nothing was as it was before. 

And Marinette and Adrien were fine with that. 

.

Mari was hanging out with Aurore and Mireille for the afternoon so Damian and Adrien had Mari’s room all to themselves. They were currently playing video games. 

And although the Wayne boy was the perfect gentleman who doesn’t let his hormones rule over common courtesy and a proper courtship, Plagg was there to supervise the lovebirds (with a boatload of cheese to keep him company of course). 

He likes to think of himself as laid back and chill who cares deeply about his kittens. And Adrien is a pure innocent little bean. 

Don’t get him wrong. He does like Wayne as a person. The kid’s attitude and personality is a fun riot to witness. But the major plus is how it is beyond obvious Wayne adores and cares greatly about Adrien. He is a good boyfriend to his chaotic gay sunshine baby. 

But after all the shit and drama that went down with his scumbag of a dad, Plagg was just feeling a tad protective of his kitty. 

Just a tad. 

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They have been dating for close to a month now. He wonders if they are going to do a one-month anniversary. Is that excessive? Or was that normal? But Adrien still can’t get over how he landed such a hot and amazing guy as a beau. 

If only he could go back in time to visit his insecure and confused little self and reassure him that they had game all along. 

“Fuck. I lost.” 

Dami smirked. “That makes it 7 to 5 in my favor.” 

“I don’t care if you’re drop dead gorgeous. I’ll beat your pretty face in the next round.” 

Hot-And-Sexy had an amused grin on his face. “I love you too, babe.” 

.

Marinete and Damian are finally making a plan to get Hawk Moth to answer for his crimes. Needless to say, they have their differences on how to handle Gabriel Agreste.

“I vote to have Hawk Moth taste my blade.”

“We’re not killing Adrien’s dad no matter how much he deserves it.”

“I can get away with it.”

“So can I. But murder is still illegal.”

Naturally, discussing how to confront Gabriel and coming with a good solid plan that satisfies both teenagers took some time.

.

Adrien entered Mari’s room, humming a bit as he carried a tray filled with homemade snacks. He perked up seeing his two favorite people in the world getting along so well.

“Hey guys! What are you up to?”

Damian and Marinette glanced at each other for a split second. They didn’t want their Chaton to worry about Hawk Moth so they didn’t share any specifics.

It was Dami who spoke up. “We are discussing the legalities of assassination.”

Mari facepalmed.

Luckily, Adrien was a pure oblivious child. “That’s nice, babe.”

.

With all the strange things he’s seen (namely, the Miraculous and getting powers from tiny little talking animals), Gabriel will like to say he shouldn’t be surprised. 

But he was. 

Luckily, he had enough self-control to not show his surprise in an obvious way, just a raised eyebrow towards the two superheroes standing in the middle of his office. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mademoiselle Ladybug and Monsieur Robin?” Pleasant and neutral. 

Ladybug he can kind of understand her presence. He is a supervillain after all. Wait. Maybe ex-supervillain now. Because he hasn’t been doing villain things for a while now since he misplaced Nooroo’s brooch and couldn’t find it no matter how many boxes of unsold Miraculous replicas he went through. And he went through a lot (that is not an understatement). Amazing how much free time he has when he isn’t stalking on the watch for negative feelings. 

But what was Robin doing here? He wasn’t aware the Gotham sidekick was in Paris in the first place. 

“We are aware of your alter ego, Hawk Moth.” 

He sighed internally. This wasn’t going to end well. But he hasn’t gotten this far by bowing down easily. 

“Just because I am a genius recluse does not mean I have supervillain tendencies.” 

Ladybug was unimpressed as she crossed her arms and stare at him with a deadpan look. “But you do have supervillain tendencies. I have yours and Nathalie’s miraculous who told us all about your plans.” 

Huh, no wonder he couldn’t find them. 

But anyway, the gig was up. Nooroo and Duusu were very emotional blabbermouths. The main reason why he couldn’t let them out of his sight —besides needing them to transform into bad guys of course. 

“Then you know I had a good reason why I became Hawk Moth.” 

“To bring your wife back. Yes, I am aware of your ‘master’ plan.” 

Maybe he can appeal to their sympathy. After all, heroes got to have empathy, right? “It was for Adrien’s sake to have his family back together.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. 

Because next thing he knew he had a razor sharp sword against his neck. He didn’t even see Robin move. 

“Do not speak of his name, you traitor scum.” The Gotham hero growled. “How dare you preach about your son’s happiness when you are the one who have been neglecting him for the past years. Do not say you care for the boy when you never once showed an ounce of love towards him.” 

Why is Robin so protective towards Adrien? Do they know each other well? 

But Gabriel’s questions were immediately banished to the back of his mind. Because right now, he was righteously fearing for his life. Prison sounded better than death. He glanced towards Ladybug. He knew she, at least, wouldn’t let him die. She was the picture perfect hero after all. 

Who was facepalming at the situation. “For the last time, we are not killing Agreste.” 

Unfortunately, Robin did not remove the sword. “And as I keep saying, no one will have to know.” 

“I will. I am literally standing right here as a witness.” 

“You may look away if you are squeamish.”

“...That’s not the problem.” It was time for Ladybug to pull out the big guns. “And if you go through with this, you will make your boyfriend cry and he will no longer want to date you.” 

It took a few seconds but Robin eventually lowered the sword and addressed Gabriel. “Do not presume that because you have no received death today that you do not deserve it. The only reason why your guts have not decorated this room is because I do not wish to make my mon amour shed tears for such a despicable man.” 

Ladybug spoke up next. “We are going to report you to the authorities. Robin and I have enough evidence to put you away for life.” 

To live for another day, Gabriel makes the smart choice of quickly surrendering right then and there. 

.

“Mon amour, I come bearing both good and bad news.” 

Adrien looked at Dami confused. “Okay? What’s the bad news?”

“Your sister have unfortunately stopped my attempt to slay your wicked father.” 

Aww. 

Adrien’s squishy little heart filled with endearing fondness at how much Hot-And-Sexy cared about him. 

“Killing my father isn’t worth going to jail, Dami. I’m sure you can pull off orange but Mari will probably bar me from ever visiting you to teach you a lesson.”  

He considered that for a moment. “That is true. Marinette is a frightening terror.” 

“She’s the greatest thing to happen to me.”Adrien swooned at his goddess before remembering his boyfriend was with him. “You’re a very close second.” 

But Dami was smiling fondly. “I know. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. I will never get in the way between your sibling bond.” 

Aww. 

He could feel his squishy little heart almost explode from all this sugary cuteness from his vain and egotistical Adonis.  

“You’re adorable. So what’s the good news you have for me?” 

“Marinette and I have finally dealt with your father. He will answer for his crimes in front of the Parisian authorities and you will not deal with the repercussions of being related to someone as vile as he.” 

“Does this mean I don’t have to legally change my name to Dupain-Cheng after all?” 

“You’re already one. Not sharing their name does not make you any less of one.” 

Adrien beamed, smiling brighter than any sun. He loved being part of the Dupain-Cheng family and it was nice to be acknowledged as one of them. 

“Of course. Being a Wayne is an honor too.” Damian said casually as if he was simply talking about the weather. Only the twitch of his fingers belied his nervousness. 

Adrien interlocked their fingers together. “You have to buy me a pretty ring first, Mr. Hot-And-Sexy.” 

.

The next week was kind of crazy to say the least. 

Gabriel Agreste was outed as Hawk Moth and Natalie as Mayura to the public. They were promptly put in jail. 

For all their contingency plans, Marinette and Damian had nothing to worry about after all. Adrien being a literal sunshine and Paris’ darling model was what saved him from being a pariah and outcast. The public knew that Adrien was the victim here and not part of Hawk Moth’s plans at all (Be serious. Can you imagine Sunshine child actually having an evil streak in him? No? That’s right. Because it is impossible). People were more sympathetic about Adrien having such a douchebag as a father than the possibility that he was evil like said douchebag. 

After that whole drama mess, Ladybug and Chat Noir announced their retirement to Paris’ dismay. But eh. Without akumas running around, they can leave Paris’ future to the police (since it’s you know, their job to keep the peace and not teenagers who is still winging it as they kick ass). 

Marinette and Adrien just wanted to focus on their future without any other crazy shenanigans.

He already said it before. But it still bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

The only thing Gabriel did right was throw her under the bus when he was caught. He told the police and superheroes how Lila helped him cause akumas with her lies and manipulation. Who knew her destroyed reputation could plummet even further? Understandably, her mother was not at all pleased with her daughter’s antics.

For being a terrorist and an indecent person, Lila was immediately arrested and deported to Italy (and that’s the last they ever heard of her thank everything Mari thinks is holy). 

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With the whole Hawkmoth thing out of the way and he didn’t have to worry about his shitty dad ever again, Adrien can now focus on his biggest challenge yet. 

School will be over in a few days and summer will be here. Which means: It’s time to finally meet the Waynes. 

Oh fuck. He was going to meet the Batfam. 

And even though Dami assured him that his family will like him, he was still nervous. 

Fuck that. He was absolutely 100% freaking out!

Thank goodness Mari was coming along for the ride. 

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Taglist:

@iglowinggemma28

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 22

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month

Hating LIla is apparently a family trait

First< Previous > Next

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“Uh I hate this,” Chloe picks at her uniform like it's a disgusting growth.

“I think you look as nice as you always do,” Marion says cheerfully, turning around on his seat to look back at her and Kagami.

“Marion that is by far the worst you have ever insulted me,”

“It was a complement-” Marion doges her whack.

“Marinette! Hit your brother for me,” Chloe demands, standing up to try and reach him.

“It’s more gratifying if you do it yourself, trust me,” Marinette flicks through her phone, not bothering to look up, “I can pin your uniform to look more flattering if you like,”

“Nette you are the best!” Chloe hugs her from behind, awkward to be sure with the seat and all, yep that's the only reason, not Kagami's death glare that can be felt through the seat.

“Oh Marinette you can also pin mine,” Lila asks, as sweetly as acid, “Or weren't you going to offer the rest of the class?”

“No actually Lila she wasn't,” Marion sneers, ignoring Marinette trying to pull him back into the seat, “As I’ve made it quite clear none of you are our friends, so she isn’t obligated to do anything for you,”

“That’s so mean,” Lila sniffles, everyone is too busy feeling guilty to comfort her.

“Weren't you friends with MDC Lila?” Marion asks as sweetly as acid, “Why not try asking them?"

With that Marion turns back to his seat and starts scrolling through his phone, ignoring Lila's attempts at guilting. He gets a notification from Marinette.

I can speak for myself  

U can nicely tell them no- I  can tell them to fck off

That wasn't very nice

Im done with nice

Whats wrong?

Marion looks up seeing Marinette looking over him concerned, he sighs and texts back.

Nervous

Dont worry Bruce hasn't told them yet

Its going to be awkward

We’ll get through it- Pound it?

Marion looks back up, Marinette is smiling at him holding out her hand.

“Pound it,”

They pull up to the school, the grandiose of Wayne academy is nothing to sneeze at. Brick buildings, iron work, Marion has to force Marinette to put her sketchbook away. They are escorted around the campus by a student. They’ll be split up and put into a range of different classes to make the best out of their week there.

“3 o’clock,” Marinette bumps into him, Marion lets his gaze slide over, spotting Damian.

“Wasn't Lila saying on the way over here that she was great friends with him?”

“Mari don't,” Marinette hisses, tugging at his sleeve, “It’s weird enough without pulling him in to our grudge match,”

“Nothing bonds siblings more than a mutual hatred of Lila, exhibit A,” He points back and forth between them, “I’m going to do it,”

“Don't you dare-”

“Hey Damian!” Marion shouts, waving his hand for the entire hallway to turn and stare.

Damian turns around with a scowl, hardly lessening when he spots them.

“Marion, just what do you think you’re doing,” Kagami scolds, as Damian stalks over.

“Lila,” Marion smirks back, looking over to the girl who pales at an actual Wayne walking over, apparently she had actually decided to look up what they look like.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Chloe steps back, content to watch the show.

“Hey Dami,” Marion goes to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian sidesteps his attempt, preferring to stand closer to Marinette.

“How’s Cat-fred?” Marion smiles, getting Damian’s scowl to lessen slightly, so he smiles brighter.

“He’s doing well,”

“Good good…” Marion shuffles, no longer able to look directly at him, “How’s the family?”

Marinette gives him a sideways look that clearly says ‘you did this to yourself’.

“Why are you asking?” Damian narrows his eyes, and Marion knows he fucked up.

Nette help please!

“I wanted to know when I can come over next for a rematch,” Marinette gracefully lets him off the hook.

“Evidently sparring at the manor is at risk of interruption,” Damian notes, deep in thought, “We should plan an alternative meeting space,”

“That sounds great,” Marinette smiles, catching Damian in between their grins.

Damian just nods and walks away, Marion smiles and waves.

“You’re an idiot,” Marinette punches him in the shoulder, getting him to lower his arm.

“We’ve established that, thanks,” Marion rubs his shoulder with a pout, “However look over there,”

Lila having an aneurysm, surrounded by the class berating her with questions.

“Worth it,” Marion grins, going for a subtle fist bump.

“Agreed,” Marinette returns the gesture.

“Lila why didn’t you say hi?”

“Why didn’t he say hi?”

“He must not have seen me,” Lila’s lip quivers in a practiced motion, “Marinette was standing in front of me,”

“Or were you hiding behind Marinette?” Marion calls over, actually voluntarily walking towards the beast.

“What?! Of course I wasn't!” Lila shouts, her glare sending him a clear warning, one he was fully prepared to ignore.

“Then why didn’t you just move?” Marion asks oh so innocently.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Lila sounds shy but her face screams murder, as people hang around to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Then you were doing it to be polite and complaining about Marinette is quite rude,” Marion has to hold back a smirk as he hears an ‘oh snap’ from his audience.

“I- you!-”

“That’s nice Lila,” Marinette interrupts, walking away like the badass she is, “How about we get to class,”

Marion goes to class, having the fortune to be lumped in with Lila. And yes he does mean fortune because while Lila is trying to brag and get the students under her thumb they are happily ignoring her, focusing instead on Marion’s tips for learning French. When Lila switches tactics saying she can speak Italian Marion switches over to fluent Italian, something he had learned from his Nona. He then breaks out his Mandarin, daring Lila to try and fake knowing a language.

Lila goes quite, just kidding you know that's not true. She starts to pull students aside whispering to them. Marion isn't sure if she is intentionally loud enough that he can hear her or if it’s just his enhanced hearing.

“He’s a bully, I know he’s just trying to act nice to get something out of you,” Lila warns a student who looks disgruntled to have basically been pulled into the corner away from the group.

“He’s a Wayne?” Ah so he’s heard the not-so rumour, “What could I possibly have that he doesn't?”

“He’s not a Wayne!” Lila snaps, before regaining her composure, “I actually know the Waynes,”

“... because they’re in your class?”

“No!” She stops her foot, “They made up that rumour! I know because I’m personal friends with all the Waynes,”

“Alright show a picture,” The guy shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, Marion reminds himself to give them the award of ‘you’re smarter than everyone in my class, it's not much but it’s something!’.

“ What? ” Lila seethes, looking ready to tear his eyeballs out to have an excuse not to show him.

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen multiple pictures of them with the Waynes plus, I heard that they actually talked to Damian Wayne this morning!” He actually looks in awe at this fact.

“I would hardly call that a conversation,” Lila crosses her arms, looking to the side like a child.

“No you don't understand!” He employers making a wild hand gesture as if trying to show how amazing it is, “He’s the ice prince, if someone else calls his name or even tried to talk to him he would just ignore them, but he actually walked over and talked to them,”

“He saw me-”

“Look I don’t really care, this argument isn't worth having,” The guy puts up placating hands, the gesture having the exact opposite effect on Lila, “Marion seems cool, Wayne or not, so yeah,”

Marion tries not to smile as one by one Lila is shot down. Her anger rising so high Marion is sure she would have been akumatized three times over by now.

“Hey what's with Lila, she seems to have it out for you?” The first guy to talk to her whispers, turns out his name is James and was very confused when Marion gifted him a small paper trophy.

“Oh she does,” Marion shrugs, filling out the worksheet idly.

“Ok… why?” James presses, the small paper trophy sitting on his desk.

“Hmmm…” Marion leans back, tipping his seat, “It’s a paradox,”

“What is?”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll probably think I’m lying and her accusations will seem more believable,” Marion reasons, looking up at the ceiling, “If I fake ignorance, you’ll probably just take her word for it, seems like a trap,”

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” James shakes his head, and Marion cracks a grin.

“Sorry, just happy to have some new friends,” His smile lessens, becoming melancholy, “It’s been awhile,”

“What? But you’re so,” James makes another one of his wild hand gestures,  “ Nice ,”

Marion just shrugs, but some people notice how he quickly glances over at Lila talking with someone else. Any further questions are cut off by the bell.

“Well, seems that's our cue to leave, now tell me are American school lunches really as bad as I’m led to believe?”

“You poor little french boy,” James shake his head,  “You have no idea the horrors you will face,”

“This is so much worse than I thought it would be,” Marion looks down at his tray in disgust, “This is a private school?”

“I told you so,” James shrugs, walking through the cafeteria to find a seat.

“Hold up a sec,” Marion says, spotting Damian, not talking but rather trying to ignore someone talking to him, “Dami!”

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian pushes Marion off him this time, the person who was talking to him looks shocked that his arms aren’t broken.

He puts his tray on the table and grabs Damian's shoulders.

“I have an urgent problem,”

“Cheng-Dupain, from what I know of you that is a massive exaggeration,” Damian brushes him off again and Marion’s scared the other kid is having a heart attack, “Now stop bothering me, it can wait for later,”

“I didn’t take any pictures of Cat-fred!” Marion cries, flopping onto Damian, who doesn't bother pushing him off a third time.

“... Understandable,” Damian snatches Marion’s phone, letting Marion input the code over his shoulder, “This is an oversight on your part,”

“So you’ll send some to me?” Marion grins, using Damian’s head as an armrest as he watches him enter his number.

“Yes,” Damian passes Marion’s phone back and Marion grabs his food.

“Great, see you later!” Marion stands up, ruffling Damian's hair before leaving.

“What was that!?” He hears the other person shout as he walks away.

“What was that?!” James yells, and whoops the entire cafeteria is staring between him and Damian.

“Do you ever learn from your mistakes?” Marinette asks, materialising beside him.

“No?” Marion scoffs, putting his and on his hip, “Why would I?”

“Are you actually siblings?” James still looks in shock but at least he isn’t gaping and gasping for air anymore.

“Yes?” Of course they were siblings, they are twins? Is that not clear?

“God-fucken dammit Mari!” Marinette hisses, “That’s not what they meant!”

“Oh,” Marion says softly, totally not jumping as Damian materialises next to him.

“Cheng-Dupain, it was this absentminded nature that caused this rumour to get out of hand in the first place,”

“Yeah… you are going to have to be way more specific,” Marion looks around the whole cafeteria is still staring at them, trading whispers.

“No we are not related, that is a baseless rumour,” Damian glares at James, making him recoil.

“Right… baseless,” Marion mumbles, getting kicked in the shin by Marinette.

“Adopted then?” James foolishly asks.

“ No ,” and yep now James looks afraid for his life.

“Haha, you know you don’t have to seem so offended by that?” Marion slings his arm around Damian’s shoulder, silently rejoicing that he only gets a withered glare this time.

“Like I said,” Lila’s voice carries over the still quite cafeteria, “The Waynes were telling me how they hate that rumour, the meer idea they are connected to the twins is-”

“ Excuse me ,” Damian slams his hand down on the table, right next to Lila making her jump out of her skin,  “But who are you, and why do you think you know anything about my family and what we think,”

“I just-”

“You presume you’re of enough importance to understand my feelings towards the matter?” Damian stands tall and looks down his nose at her, “You aren’t,”

“Lila,” Alya whispers to her as Damian walks away, “I think you should just let them sort it out, it’s a family matter,”

“Who is that?” Damian demands when he gets back to them, “And how do I destroy her?”

“Don’t worry about it Damian, she's just doing it to get attention,” Marinette explains calmly.

“Lila Rossi,” Marion has other plans, “She’s a Liar, provide proof she doesn't know your family or anyone for that matter and she will be destroyed,”

Damian gives a curt nod and walks away, back to his friend who is still gaping like the rest of the room.

“ Mari ,” Marinette smacks him.

“I merely shared my wisdom,” Marion stroke his invisible beard, “What he chooses to do with it is up to him,”

“Ugh, that was a long day,” Plagg groans, curling up in the middle of his pillow.

“Plagg you slept in my bag the whole time,” Marion flops onto his bed, and it wasn't over they had to go on patrol soon.

“Which is far more disruptive than a bed,” Plagg complains, letting Marion curl up next to him, “Not comfortable at all,”

“Speaking of not being comfortable…” Marinette trails off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Our brother insisting we aren’t related?” Marion curls around to look over at her.

“Very strange feeling,” Marinette nods, absentmindedly pulling her feet onto the bed.

“He yelled at Lila,” Marion smiles up at the ceiling.

“Does that make him an honorary Dupain-slash-Cheng?” Marinette smiles over at him.

“Yeah…” Marion’s grin drops, “... Or Dupain/Cheng/Wayne,”

“... You want to tell them?” Marinette asks in her horrible tone that reminds him of being back in Paris and trying to stifle emotions.

“I mean, yeah,” He sits up, crossing his legs, “They’re family right? I want to know them, do you?”

“He seemed upset when they called us siblings,” Marinette turns to face him, the Kwamis watching their little meeting from the outside.

“He seemed more upset with Lila, said he was insulted by it,” Marion reasons, he feels like they’re back in Paris dressed as Ladybug and Chat Noir having three in the morning conversations on rooftops.

“It’s Lila, anything she says can piss someone off,” Marinette sighs, flopping back on the bed, destroying the illusion, “Tikki what do you think?”

“This is a decision you have to make on your own Marinette,” Tikki advises sagely.

“Tiiikkkiiiiii,” Marinette whines like a three year old

“Alright, I never had a family but I have the other Kwamis,” Tikki concedes, explaining to the twins giving her all their attention, “I am separated from Nooro and Dussu, and if family feels like them I do not want you to be separated,”

“What if they get mad?” Marinette asks, fidgeting.

“Then you’ll find a way to work through it,” Tikki smiles at them, “You’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, there isn’t anything you can’t do,”

“Just do it kid!” Plagg shouts, giving up on pretending to nap, “If it turns out bad at least you know!”

“Plagg!”

“What is it Sugar Cube?” Plagg asks sweetly, getting chased out the room moments later.

“So, we doing this?” Marion asks, after all their Kwamis have left.

“I guess so,” Marinette shugs, bringing out her phone, Marion holds her hand for comfort as they wait for the phone to ring.

“Hello?” Bruce picks up on the third ring.

“Hey Bruce,” Marion says, sounding strained even to himself.

“Marinette, Marion,” Bruce answers, pleasantly surprised, “Is everything alright?”

“How do you feel about telling everyone else?” Marion cuts straight to the chase, he can’t be bothered to run.

“... are you sure?” Marion can feel Marinette tension grow at the question, “I want to but they’ll all be surprised, it might ruin your trip,”

“We got sent to the hospital the first week being here,” Marion reasons, he should technically still be on bed rest.

“... That's true,”

“So?” He prompts after a too long pause.

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Tomorrow,” Marinette speaks up for the first time.

Well I guess that's that

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

[threeletterslife]

Resonance

→ summary: your college art final prompt is so unbelievably broad that you might just flunk it because you have no idea what you’re gonna draw. luckily, there’s a cute guy who’s totally into you that might just help you out. even better: he’s a merman.

→ pairing/rating: taehyung x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 80% crack, 20% fluff | mermaid!au & bullet point fic

→ warnings: profanity

→ wordcount: 9.4k

cr.

well

this is just

great

you are a creative person

you are a creative person

you ARE a creative person

ok maybe if you keep saying that in your head, it’ll come true

but fat chance

because you're still drawing a blank

your university professor JUST released the art final prompt

and it is the most broadest and vaguest prompt you've seen in your whole entire nineteen years of life

it sucks!!

like what the fuck?

how are you supposed to draw something that "calls to you"

what's that supposed to mean???

your best friend yoongi tries to help you interpret the wack prompt

but you really shouldn’t be trusting a guy who uses art sketchbooks as scratch paper to solve batshit crazy math problems for fun

it’s a no brainer that yoongi’s a no-nonsense chemical engineering major

in conclusion, he wouldn’t know aRT

not like you do anyways

he can barely draw a stickman. and he even has shitty handwriting (that’s so barely legible that he always gets called back after finals to translate his writing for the prof)

enough roasting your best friend though

especially when he’s actually trying to lend you a hand

“what calls to you…” yoongi trails off thoughtfully

he lets out a snort

“ha!” he says triumphantly. “y/n, i got it!”

“really?!”

“just draw a phone with your mother coming out of it!”

you frown. “i don’t get it”

yoongi sighs, shaking his head disdainfully

“because your mother literally calls you on the phone, y/n”

“i hate you”

yoongi is no help

“prof would flunk me if i turned a drawing like that in”

yoongi snorts. “or she’ll give you extra points for thinking literally. artists these days are so into thinking outside of the box. maybe you’ll be unique for being literal”

god no

being literal won’t fly with your professor

she’s the fucking queen of abstract art

if you hand her a painting of your mother coming out of a fucking phone, she might just burn the piece in front of your face

besides, you can’t draw something that doesn’t stir some sort of inspiration in you

no offense to your mother (but she’s also a no-nonsense physician)

yoongi’s just back at it again with his nonsensical advice

you’d expect better from the dude who does math for fun

“you know what?” you huff. “i can’t trust a guy who uses a freaking sketchbook to solve advanced calculus problems”

yoongi grins. “just tryna help, y/n”

“my god”

“wanna help me since i helped you?” yoongi teases

he holds up a stack of paper riddled with numbers with one too many digits and foreign symbols from the greek alphabet

ew

you feel like you’re gonna puke

“aaaaand goodbye!” you say, standing up from your seat at the campus cafe. “i’m gonna go to the beach!”

“right now??”

“yeah why not?” you laugh, shrugging. “i need some inspiration!”

“but then i’m gonna look like a loner sitting here all by myself,” yoongi pouts

“then come with me, duh”

yoongi gives you a look of repulsion

“i hate the beach,” he grumbles

“fine,” you snort. “just call hoseok or something. i don’t know. but i’m leaving! bYe!!”

you can hear yoongi cursing at you under his breath and you laugh

he’s got such a mouth of a sailor that he honestly belongs on the beach—if not, the ocean

you pay his cursing no mind as you rush out the cafe and across the school campus

the literal reason you chose to attend this university was its close proximity to the beach

you’ve always been drawn to the waters

yoongi, on the other hand, only came here because of a scholarship

smart bastard

but he’s a good friend

it’s kinda sad you’re always hanging on the beach alone though

you don’t particularly fit in with the rowdy party crowds on the sand

and you don’t go there to flaunt your summer body in a bikini

you just go for

~inspiration~

by the time you reach the beach, it’s nearly empty

when it’s nearing finals, no one dares to step foot on the warm sand because once you go in, there’s no way in hell you’re going back

some students learn the hard way

and then end up flunking their finals

it’s you

you’re ‘some students’

(to be fair, that was freshman year and you’re a sophomore now, so you won’t make the same mistake again!!)

okay… maybe

you’re on the beach and it’s nearing finals so maybe you haven’t learned your lesson

but in your defense, you’re only here for

~inspiration~

the salty ocean breeze caressing your face

the smell of open waters

the brisk air

you would live on the beach if you could

there’s a small little rocky ledge at the far side of the beach that serves as your little private area you’ve been using since you got here

no one ever comes this far

so you just claimed the rocky ledge as yours

it’s where there are cute little crabs roaming about

where the bright orange starfish and sea anemones attach themselves to the rocks in the shallow tide pool and (maybe) watch you watch them

(you don’t exactly have extensive knowledge about ocean life lol)

omg there was even this one time when you saw a fish in the tide pool

granted, it was dEaD so you had to make yoongi carry it in a plastic bag and give it a proper burial ceremony

anywho

you love sea animals and plants!!

for a brief second as you crawl onto the rocky ledge you contemplate if you should draw a fucking fish for your art final

technically, it calls to you… right?

the late afternoon sun warms up your cheeks and you sigh, out, leaning back to admire the waves of the ocean lapping at the wet sand on the beach

if you just lie like this, basking in the sun… you’ll come up with an idea… right?

two hours later, you’re still stumped

“well, fuck,” you curse

the tide’s starting to come in and your feet are already underwater

it looks like you should just go back to your dorm at this point

you’ll find your ~inspiration~ tomorrow

you sigh

why can’t you think of a cool idea for fuck’s sake

what calls to me??

the only thing you can think of is a flobbering fish and your mom coming out of a phone (a tribute to yoongi)

you end up accidentally staying until the moon’s high in the sky

the waters have turned into a black oblivion and the tide’s so high, you have to shift up the rock to avoid making it look like you wet your pants

if you were a werewolf, you could draw the moon

because haha, get it? the moon calls to them!

but unfortunately, you are not a werewolf

“this sucks,” you huff

usually, you’re quick to come up with good ideas and it’s frustrating that for finals you can’t do the same

right when things actually matter

you look down from the sky to stare at your feet

maybe you’ll just stay here until you can come up with an idea

you aren’t gonna give up so soon

besides, the quiet sound of the undulating waves is so soothing

you stay a little longer, gazing at the twinkling stars and daydreaming of simpler times when your art teachers would tell you exactly what to draw without giving you vague-ass prompts to interpret

that’s when something catches your eye in the dark waters

illuminated by the starlight… you see… a…

HUMAN???

“hey!” you shriek

okay now you’re 1000% sure there’s someone in the ocean right now

they have a head of bright turquoise hair and pale but toned arms

yet the person has their back turned to you so you can’t quite see their face (though you assume they’re attractive just based on the back of their head)

“hey!” you shout again

come to think of it,,,

are they skinny dipping in the fucking ocean???

freshmen these days!! they’re nuts!

“you’re gonna die of hypothermia!” you yell. “or a shark’s gonna bite your limbs off!”

slowly

very slowly

the kid turns around

and you nearly choke on your breath

because he is beautiful

not in a conventional tiktok boy way but in a mysterious manner

his alabaster skin glows in the starlight

his turquoise-colored hair is styled perfectly on his head, just swept gracefully across his forehead

his deep sea-green eyes sparkle as he cocks his head and stares at you

oh god

he’s definitely shirtless

“h-hey!” you call again, hoping you don’t sound desperate. “what are you doing??”

the boy doesn’t answer though

he just stares at you curiously, eyes glancing back and forth at your bare legs and your shocked face

normally, you’d be creeped out if a random guy decided to check out your legs, but for some reason, the boy doesn’t stare at you like he’s a predator

he just looks… curious

you gasp when he suddenly disappears underwater

“hey!!” you shriek

damn. maybe he just wanted to be alone

no biggie

you’ll just sit on the rock or something until he decides to talk?

or you can be like any other sane person and just go back to your dorm

a sudden splash of water jumps you out of your thoughts

you nearly fall back when the strange boy stares up at you from the ledge of the rock

he’s still submerged under the water up to his shoulders, but he leans against the rock and smiles at you

it’s as if he’s saying ‘hey, loud person, who won’t shut up. how are you today? nice to meet you’

at least you think that’s what he’s trying to convey to you

“hi?” you say, raising your eyebrows. “isn’t the water cold?”

the boy shrugs his shoulders then shakes his head

he seems friendly enough that you decide to continue talking to him

he has a strange alluring aura that makes you want to get to know him

before you know it, you’re scooting closer to the stranger

he doesn’t flinch when you’re close enough to touch his strangely dry head of beautiful hair

“woah,” you deadpan. “how’s your hair dry?”

the boy shrugs again, smiling mischievously

can he even talk??

or maybe he’s just being polite and he wants you to leave

maybe he’s naked?? and he actually is a skinny dipper

and he wants you to get the hell away from him so he can get into his clothes??

“do you want me to leave…?” you ask cautiously

the boy shakes his head

ookkayyy…

“oh… it’s just that you’re not talking to me so i just thought…” you trail off, uncertain

the boy laughs and it’s the only kind of sound you’ve heard from him since you first saw him in the waters a few minutes ago

and his laugh is just like the rest of him—beautiful

the boy touches his throat with one hand and shakes his head

you frown

what?

the boy repeats the motion again and again until it finally clicks in your head

oh!!!!

“wait, you can’t speak?” you say. “i’m sorry… i didn’t know!”

the boy smiles as if saying ‘it’s all right. you’re fine’

“i haven’t seen you around campus…” you start. “do you live around here?”

the boy shakes his head

“you just like late-night swims, huh?” you giggle. “i’d swim too but something about swimming in the ocean at night is super scary for me”

the boy laughs good-heartily. he points at you curiously, then gestures at the surroundings

“oh, why am i here?” you say

the boy nods his head

“i’m just trying to get inspiration,” you say. “i’m an artist”

the boy smiles widely. he raises his eyebrows and points at you

“yes, really!” you laugh. “wanna sit on the rock with me?” you say, patting the spot next to you. “you don’t have to be stuck in the ocean to talk to me”

the boy hesitates

he looks at you through his beautiful eyes and parts his pink lips

it’s as if he’s asking, ‘can i really sit next to you?’

“i don’t bite!” you laugh. “at least, the last time i checked”

the boy giggles

he reaches out and lightly touches your hand

you’re shocked when you realize his hands aren’t wet from the water

come to think of it, you are covered in more water droplets than the boy

well

something is a bit fishy around here

you slowly look up at the boy’s face

he shrugs but a mischievous, all-knowing smile plays on his lips

“what are you, a mermaid?” you snort

the boy looks offended, placing a hand against his chest and letting out a silent scoff

“sorry. i meant merman,” you roll your eyes. “better?”

you were only half-joking

but when the boy waves what looks like a fucking tail towards you, you nearly fall back

“WAIT!” you shriek

that better be a fucking costume

the boy laughs and he swims a bit away from the rock, only to do a backflip

that’s when you see that this boy is not really a boy

he’s a mythical mermaid???

with a sparkling turquoise tail and everything?? (on a side note, you have to appreciate the way it matches his hair)

okay

well

deep breath in

deep breath out

you were never one to say that mermaids existed

but you weren’t one to say that they didn’t exist either

okay

so

either you’re still dreaming or you just kinda befriended a mermaid—er, merman

“please tell me this is real!” you squeal, scooting closer to the waters so that your knees are submerged

when you were a kid and adults asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up, you said a mermaid

as you grew older, society drilled in your head that mermaids only existed in disneyland

so that was that

until now, of course

the boy pops up from the ocean again and he hoists himself up on the rock right next to you

he’s shirtless as mermen go, but that’s the least of your interests now

his tail comes up with him and he gestures towards it, allowing you to touch the shiny scales

“it’s beautiful!” you breathe, running your hands over the surprisingly silky tail. “i better not be dreaming right now”

the boy laughs. he points at your legs curiously in response as if to say, ‘i better not be dreaming too’

“you’ve never met a human??”

the boy shakes his head. he looks at you like you’re the most special person on the planet. and it makes sense too because you’re the only human he’s probably communicated with in his life

“wow… i guess there’s a first time for everything…”

the boy nods enthusiastically

“are you even allowed to approach people?”

the boy grins as if to say, ‘mAyBe’

“poseidon or some dude with a trident’s not gonna zap me with lightning for talking to you right??”

just a safety precaution!!

the boy laughs boisterously, head thrown back and eyes squinted

“well… i guess not,” you smile

you’ve never really been friends with someone… not human…

if yoongi heard you talking about this merman, he might call the psych ward on you

or you’re just batshit crazy and you’ve been imagining this in your head

the boy points at you politely, cocking his head

“my name?”

he nods vigorously

“i’m y/n!” you tell him

‘y/n…’ he mouths with his lips but you can’t hear it

“what’s your name?”

the boy presses his lips together, then as if a light bulb went off in his head, he grins

he mouths his name to you, lips pursing and parting with exaggerated movements

you squint

“daeyoung??” you guess

the boy snorts, shaking his head

he mouths his name again but this time with more emphasis in the beginning

“ohhhh! i got it!” you say excitedly. “taeyoung!”

the merman holds up a number one and nods but shakes his head when he holds up two fingers

“the second part’s wrong??”

he nods

“uhhhhhh, tae… young… young… something that rhymes with young…”

“oh!!” you shriek, “TAEHYUNG!!”

the merman claps his hands together gleefully

“am i good or what??”

taehyung pats you on the back as if to congratulate you for figuring out his name

“thanks,” you grin. “hey do you come here often? you know, on this rocky ledge”

‘yup,’ taehyung mouths. ‘i’ve seen you before,’ he mouths slowly so you can understand him

“woah. you watched me?”

taehyung bashfully looks away

“it’s okay! it’s okay!” you say. “i just hope i wasn’t doing anything embarrassing… like picking my nose or something. i’m always alone here”

taehyung grins, wiggling his eyebrows. it’s as if he’s saying that yes, he did see you picking your nose that one time

“well it’s a human thing,” you argue. “you wouldn’t understand!”

taehyung giggles. ‘sure, sure,’ he seems like he’s saying

you huff. “in my defense, i didn’t know anyone was watching!”

taehyung gives you a look as if telling you that was the lamest excuse ever

“whatever, tae,” you scoff. “i’m just flattered that you thought i looked interesting in the first place”

the merman grins wildly, making it quite obvious he likes the new nickname you had given him. he shrugs his shoulders and pokes your arm playfully. ‘friend!’ he mouths enthusiastically

“you wanna be my friend?”

taehyung rapidly nods his head

“hmmMm…” you pretend to think. “i’m a bit swamped with friends at the moment…” you fib. in reality, you only have like two best friends (yoongi and yoongi’s bestie, hoseok). but it doesn’t hurt to lie a little to tease tae

the merman’s lips pull down in a slight frown

but you snort and slap his bare shoulder

“kidding!” you giggle. “why would i say no to being your friend?”

taehyung rolls his eyes but he grins happily. he looks at you expectantly, almost as if he’s asking when he can see you next time

damn

you’re starting to get the hang of reading taehyung’s expressions

“when can you see me next time?” you ask

taehyung nods

“well… finals are coming up… i reckon you don’t have mermaid school or whatever?”

taehyung shakes his head, grinning. ‘no school!’

“lucky,” you sigh. “but fuck finals!” you pump your fist in the air. “i’ll see you tomorrow!”

‘same time?’ taehyung inquires

“sure!”

the two of you shake hands to seal the deal

you would’ve spent hours on end talking to taehyung but he’s the one who points to the direction of the beach and mouths ‘you should sleep’

“i don’t need sleep!” you declare but unfortunately, that follows with an embarrassing yawn

taehyung gives you the look

“okay… maybe i do need sleep…”

taehyung giggles. he pushes your shoulder slightly, nudging you away from him

“and i can visit you tomorrow…” you reason

taehyung nods

“so maybe i should get sleep”

‘that’s it!” the merman laughs

so you say your lasting goodbyes and watch as taehyung dives away from the rock

when he’s gone, shining tail and all, you’re left dazed and confused

maybe you’ve been hallucinating???

welp

if you were hallucinating, you’ll figure it out tomorrow when a cute merman doesn’t come to meet you at night

for now, you just need sleep to digest everything that had just happened

okay

so

you just woke up

and now you’re more unsure than ever that this… taehyung exists

what if you were so stressed out yesterday

that you were literally… seeings things

yoongi keeps asking you if you’re okay because you spaced out TEN times in ONE conversation

you keep trying to convince him that you’re fine

but yoongi knows you so well that he knows you’re definitely NOT fine

“i’m just tired!!” you tell your best friend

yoongi sCOFFS “so am i but you don’t see me spacing out like i saw a unicorn last night”

eRrrr…

how do you tell yoongi that technically you did see something like a unicorn last night???

well

you won’t

because yoongi is a no-nonsense-old-fashioned-traditional-by-the-textbook-chemical-engineering-loving-student

he would never believe you

“wEll i’m sensitive!” you protest, crossing yours arms. “plus i’m still stressed about my art final”

“i thought you went to the beach to get inspiration!” yoongi points out

“errrrr…” you scratch your head. “i got distracted”

yoongi sighs. “aRt mAjOrs”

“excuse me, how dAre you???”

but yoongi just laughs it off, patting you on the back before announcing that he had to go study for his finals

you should be studying for your other finals too

but you end up doodling all over your notes

doodles of tAeHyuNg

every ten minutes, you force yourself to sTOP doodling to actually read your notes

but it never works

by night time, you’ve gotten nowhere

oh well

now you can go meet taehyung!!

if he exists…

what if your brain was actually playing games on you??

regardless, you swallow all sense of doubt and march out to the ocean

the beach is completely empty and you make use of the privacy, skipping along the sand and towards the rocky ledge

and sure enough, there’s no one there

hMph

okay

maybe taehyung’s late

no, wait you’re early

so you’re gonna wait for the merman

and if he doesn’t come in… ten minutes, you’ll just leave and deem yourself absolutely bonkers

waiting is really boring

you keep thinking at least five minutes passed every time you look at your phone for the time

but, in reality, it’s always been less than forty seconds

you go back and forth between looking at the time to looking at the dark waters

FOR FIVE WHOLE MINUTES

you’re starting to get ANTSY

and doubt starts to settle in

if yoongi knew what you were doing right now, he’d laugh at you

oh god…

should you just… leave?

THAT’S when you see a familiar bob of turquoise hair in the waters

you let out a little shriek, scooting closer to the edge of the rock

“taehyung??” you call out

the figure leaps in the air like a gracious dolphin and dives back down into the opaque waters

two seconds later, the familiar merman leans against the rocky ledge and grins up at you

‘hey,’ he seems to say with his sparkling eyes. ‘missed me?’

“UM, YES!” you say. “i was starting to think i was going crazy”

taehyung chuckles deeply, the sound reverberating against the calm ocean waves

“i was worried you wouldn’t be here”

taehyung raises his eyebrows as if to say, ‘why wouldn’t i be here??’

“i don’t know! self doubt? maybe you have some underground castle you wanna hang around with your friends and family rather than come up to the surface to hang with me!”

taehyung shakes his head, laughing. he points to himself and mouths the word, ‘solo’

“really?” you raise your eyebrows. “no family or friends?”

taehyung nods. ‘SOLO!’ he declares silently, grinning

“are all merfolk like that??”

the merman shrugs. ‘never seen another’

“oh gosh, you must be lonely,” you say. “here.” you pat the place next to you. “sit on the rock with me”

taehyung obliges but he protests he’s not lonely by shaking his head

“what do you do by yourself all the time, then?”

taehyung grins mischievously

out of the corner of your eye, you see bubbles of water rising up from the surface of the waves. you gasp as they begin to float in the air

“bubbles!” you reach out to pop one, laughing when the remnants of the water splash against your cheek

the merman nudges you as if to say, ‘but wait! there’s more!’

the next thing you know, a huge floating water bubble splashes above your head, drenching you from head to toe

“vEry funny!” you scoff, trying to shake the water off yourself

taehyung gives you another one of his cheeky grins. ‘sorry,’ he mouths, but he does not look apologetic at all

‘but look! i can dry it!’

he waves his fingers at you and instantly, your sopping wet hair and clothes are dried. there’s even a ocean breeze smell that lingers on you now

“do you go around splashing people with water bubbles and drying them right after?” you accuse taehyung teasingly

he laughs boisterously, shrugging his shoulders. ‘mAybE’ is his answer

“you spend a lot of time on the surface, huh?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘maybe’

“not much of a fish dude?”

‘they’re creepy,’ taehyung answers

you howl with laughter. “and scary! like sharks, viperfish, hatchetfish… oh god,” you shiver. “i hate them. i can’t swim in the ocean. and i know most of the scary-looking ones don’t even live in the same ocean zone”

taehyung pokes at you. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he mouths

“am not!! how are you creeped out by fish when you’re half fish??”

taehyung scoffs. ‘my tail…’ he gestures majestically at his sparkling tail, ‘is not a fish tail’

“sure… fishboy”

taehyung raises his eyebrows and raises his hand as if to threaten to splash you with a water bubble again

“i was only joking”

taehyung laughs, poking at you then pointing to the waters. ‘wanna swim, though?’

“are you serious? i just told you i’m terrified!”

taehyung pouts, his pink lips pulling down into a sad frown

“that’s not gonna make me change my mind, tae”

‘just for a little bit!’ he protests

“i don’t even have my goggles, i can’t swim without them! and i’m not going in water that’s pitch black”

taehyung sighs. ‘fine!’

“i’m really good at swimming in the pool though,” you say. “i mean, they used to call me a mermaid. because i was really good at dolphin kicking. but then i watched a few underwater documentaries… and nope. never again. i am not going in the same waters that goblin sharks live in”

to your surprise, taehyung teasingly pokes your cheek. ‘cute,’ he mouths. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he adds

“show anyone a goblin shark and they wouldn’t be able to get in the water for a year!” you huff in response

‘never seen one,’ tae sings—if you could hear him, you imagine his voice would sound as soft as lavender with just a drizzle of rich honey

“doesn’t mean they don’t exist!” you argue. “maybe one day i’ll swim with you. but definitely not today”

technically, you just met the man—er, merman

you’re not so sure if you can trust him to console you of your great fear of the ocean

maybe once you get to know him a little better

you see

you’re very quick to make friends

you probably have a lot of acquaintances

they all know your name and you know theirs

but you probably could not name three facts about any of them. and they probably couldn’t think of three facts about you either

so yes, you tend to have shallow relationships with many

but if you find people you like, you cling to them

like yoongi and hoseok

you just hope taehyung won’t be one of your acquaintances

he better be one of your best friends

how cool is it to say your best friend is a merman????

very cool

‘cool’ is just not a word to describe you as yoongi often likes to point out

but you’ll show him

you visit taehyung every day

for seven days

it’s been a full week

finals is closer than ever

you have like… five days to get your art final done

and you still haven’t gotten an idea

yikes

okay well you have an excuse

actually, you have excuses. plural.

because 1) you’ve forced yourself to fOrget about finals and 2) taehyung is wAy more interesting than any final you will ever take in your life

besides, all the time you spend on the beach is absolutely worth it

you and taehyung sometimes even meet before night falls, just before the sun’s setting so the two of you can prank the seagulls

(tae hates those little monsters-with-wings so he enjoys it a whole lot to dump water bubbles on their heads)

you help him prank the stupid birds by giving him moral support! that includes cheering him on when he successfully attacks an unsuspecting seagull and feeding him some cookies from your school cafeteria to keep him well-nourished

taehyung loves human food

he says he has to live off of clams and seaweed

which, isn’t all that bad (you love salted seaweed chips and clams), but imagine having a diet solely composed of seafood

yuck

so you bake kale chips for tae one day (nearly burning down the communal kitchen) and he enjoys it so much, for five days, you bring all sorts of good human food for him

by the end of the week, taehyung’s put on some pounds

you think he looks even more adorable with a bit of meat on his bones

taehyung just complains that his abs are starting to disappear

so one day, you bring a yoga mat and the two of you do some ab exercises off of youtube

of course, that led taehyung down the youtube rabbit hole

and once down that rabbit hole, it is very hard to resurface

after tae got ahold of gordon ramsay’s youtube channel, it’s all he watches when you come to the beach

in the end, you have to ban him from youtube because he almost took your phone underwater when you tried to get him to stop drooling over gordon ramsay and his incredible cooking skills

but taehyung prefers talking to you over watching youtube

at least you think

you hope

there is never a day you meet taehyung and it isn’t eventful

there’s always something to do with the fun-loving merman!

which makes it very, very easy to lose sight of iMporTAnt things… like, uh finals

so, today, five days before your art final is due, yoongi sits you down on your desk chair and sighs. “have you figured out your art final yet?”

it is a question that catches you off guard

“er… no”

“iSn’t it due in FIVE days???” yoongi shakes his head disapprovingly at you. “c’mon, y/n, don’t some artists take over a week to finish a painting??”

“well i can take uh, three days without sleeping if it really comes to that”

yoongi sighs. “you’ve been going to the beach every day. still no inspiration?”

“err… i got… distracted��

“do you want me to come with you today or something? so i can whip you back into shape and make sure you get properly inspired?” yoongi offers

“no!” you shout

yoongi raises his eyebrows

“i mean, um, no thank you, yoongs,” you stand up and pat yoongi’s head

he scowls at you

“i’ve got it all figured out!” you tell him very convincingly

but it is a lie

“rEally?” yoongi raises his eyebrows at you

“yes. don’t you worry, my friend.” you pat his head again

yoongi rolls his eyes. “okay, well, worse comes to worst, you can always use my terrific idea”

“never in a million years”

“oh well. wanna skip the beach today? i’m inviting hoseok over to watch a movie. you can come too, if you want”

“no can do,” you say, shaking your head. “i’m going swimming!” you hang your swim goggles in front of yoongi’s face

“in the dark?? in the ocean?? i thought you were afraid of gobbler sharks!”

“goblin sharks. not gobbler. and no. not anymore. i trust the waters now”

er, or, you trust taehyung

he’s been trying to convince you every day to swim with him

and every day you declined or made up some stupid excuse

but today is the day you will accept

you even prepared by wearing a bathing suit under your clothes

and you’re gonna bring your swim goggles

you’re so ready!!

you trust that taehyung won’t let the fish get to you

he promised and swore on his own beautiful tail

so he can’t possibly be lying

“oOokAyyyy…” yoongi says, giving you a strange look. “if you drown, can i have your comforter?”

“oh, shut up. i’m not gonna drown”

“sure”

you huff. “whatever, yoongs. have fun watching that movie with hoseok. i’m gonna get going”

“i will. just don’t drown or something”

“i won’t”

five minutes later, you’re terrified you’re going to drown

as you walk across the beach, you worry that you’re only walking to your death

what if you actually drown???

and taehyung can’t save you because the water’s so dark, he can’t even see you???

what if a jellyfish comes out of nOwHerE and stings you so hard you’re gonna be paralyzed forever????????

EVEN WORSE

WHAT IF THERE’S A GOBLIN SHARK OUT OF ITS HABITAT

WHAT IF IT BITES YOUR LEGS OFF????

ohmygod

you think you might die

taehyung’s waiting for you on the rocky ledge as he always does

but today, he has a shit-eating grin on his face

he looks at your goggles and nods. ‘today’s the day!!’

you grumble. “this is not helping my stress”

taehyung cocks his head

“i’m stressed because of college, tae. lucky you. you wouldn’t understand”

the handsome merman snorts. ‘i wouldn’t’

he pokes at you as if to say, ‘tell me what’s wrong’

you sigh, plopping yourself down on the rock and looking down at your feet

“i have a really important painting i have to finish in five days…” you groan. “and my professor gave me an art prompt, you know, something i need to interpret and draw. but i can’t, for the life of me, figure out what i wanna paint”

‘hMmm,’ taehyung hums. ‘what’s the prompt?’ he mouths

“what calls to me”

‘what calls to you?’

“ugh. yeah. horribly vague, isn’t it? my friend suggested i draw my mother coming out of a phone”

taehyung cocks his head, curiously

“yeah, it’s stupid. so i’m stuck. and the final’s due in five days. but i was totally forgetting about it until yoongi decided to bring it up. and now i’m stressed”

the merman giggles

“this isn’t funny!!” you protest

but the merman giggles again

when you give him a disdainful look, taehyung dives into the ocean and pops his head out, waving at you to come in

you sigh, staring at your goggles. reluctantly, you put them on

once you strip down to your swimsuit, you stare hesitantly at the opaque ocean. you crouch down just before the water, contemplating and contemplating

suddenly, something grabs your arm and you’re tugged into the ocean

you sCreAm bloody murder and voila, now salt and fish feces water is up your noise

how wonderful

but two strong hands hold your waist and you’re able to resurface

the water’s cold, but not freezing cold at least. and taehyung’s actually really warm against your skin

“you fucking dragged me in!!!” you shriek after coughing the water out of your lungs

you hit tae’s bare chest in agitation

the little shit just shrugs and grins at you

you huff, wrapping your legs tightly around taehyung’s hips. “if you let me go, my friends are going to find you and roast you. literally”

taehyung chuckles. ‘i won’t let you go,’ he seems to tell you with a meaningful look on his face

“you better not!” you tell him

he laughs at you, softly touching your forehead with the back of his hand. instantly, you feel much, much warmer. even cozier in the supposedly freezing waters

even the water weighing down the hair on your head feels lighter. when you reach out to touch it, you realize it’s completely dry

“woah,” you breathe. “that’s so cool…”

you forget that you’re even supposed to be mad at the merman

taehyung grins at you, petting your hair. ‘i know, right?’ he seems to say with his twinkling eyes

he motions at you to take your goggles off

“what?? are you crazy? i can’t survive without these! i am not opening my eyes in salt water, tae”

the merman shakes his head, laughing. ‘it won’t sting your eyes’

“why? did you put a magical charm on me or something?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘mAyBe’

you sigh, skeptical

‘i’m trying to help,’ tae mouths. ‘it’s for your art final’

you raise your eyebrows doubtfully

‘i’m serious’

“why, is there something cool underwater?”

taehyung nods. ‘you need your eyes open’

you wrap your legs tighter around the merman. “so… you’re gonna show me… something underwater… that will help me with my art final??”

the merman nods enthusiastically

he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek. ‘trust me’

ohhHHhhh if you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t be clinging onto him for life right now

“promise you won’t let me go??”

‘promise’

you hold out your pinky for taehyung

he cocks his head. ‘what is that for?’

“pinky promise??”

‘hmm?’

oh man

that might just be a human thing

silly you

“oH uh, nEver mInd th—”

you try to retract your pinky but taehyung stops you

he slowly pulls up his own hand, his pinky jutting out awkwardly

‘like this?’ he questions, poking at your pinky with his

you have to stifle a laUgh

“um, not quite,” you say. “you have to wrap your pinky around mine. yeahh, like that. and then it’s a pinky promise! it’s practically illegal to break a pinky promise”

taehyung nods. ‘i won’t break it’

“okay good! uh…” you look warily at the dark waters. “what is it that you wanted to show me?”

taehyung grins. suddenly, you’re submerged underwater again and you let out a scream

but you can’t hear yourself

not because you’re choking on the water, no

it seems like… you can breathe????? UNDER THE WATER????

you hug taehyung tighter and try to scream at him to stop plunging you in the ocean without a warning

but no sound comes out of your lips

‘taehyung!” you shriek soundlessly

“open your eyes, y/n…” a deep, resonate voice tells you

you nearly gasp in shock

was that… was that taehyung’s voice? his speaking voice????????

“it’s okay… you’re protected under a charm,” his mellifluous tone soothes you. “you’re able to breathe underwater, y/n. but you won’t be able to speak.” he laughs, which sounds very familiar to your ears. “how the tables have turned!”

‘taehyung!!!’

“how good it feels to finally speak to you!!” taehyung laughs. “you don’t have to hold me in a vice grip anymore,” he snorts. “i won’t let you go. we pinky promised, remember?”

you groan in your head. ‘i-i can’t. i can’t do it, tae’

“aww, y/n…” you hear taehyung softly pet your hair. “take your time”

‘i can’t open my eyes. i-i’m sorry’

you can see the blackness through your eyelids. and there is no way in hell you’re going to open them

fine, you trust taehyung. and sure, the water may not sting your eyes

and on top of all that, you can fucking breathe underwater thanks to tae, but no

you’re still scared

you’re scared of what you’re gonna see

or what you won’t see because the ocean is probably pitch black

you just try to focus on taehyung’s beautiful, deep voice. it seems to reverberate through the ocean waves even after the sound hits your ears

“it’s okay,” he says. “don’t be sorry.” he holds you tighter against his bare chest. “you don’t have to see what i wanna show you anyway”

you make a confused grunt sound in the back of your throat

“you can hear it”

‘what???’

but of course taehyung can’t hear you. nor can he see you with your chin resting on his shoulder

“what calls to you, huh?” taehyung says in his syrupy voice. “i have a good idea”

then, to your utmost shock, he begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your listening ears

and gently caresses your lips

there lies a great ocean

the waves undulate under the dark sky

under these waters

is a lonely merman

he longs, waits for a friend

a lover,

anyone who will save him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the great ocean lies

where the waves undulate under the dark sky

where the lonely merman waits

under these dark waters”

your insides melt

taehyung’s honey voice entrances you and you squeeze you eyes shut even tighter

a rush of inspiration washes over you

you shiver

oh god

you didn’t have to open your eyes after all

you don’t have to see it to feel the immense amount of emotion, love, sincerity interwoven to taehyung’s song

it’s the most beautiful music you’ve heard in your life

and it pains you that taehyung’s stopped singing

you’re speechless, pulling away from taehyung so he can read your lips. ‘that… that was so beautiful…’

“thanks,” taehyung chuckles deeply. “i sing that song a lot when i’m bored”

‘your voice…’

“i know. too bad i can only sing underwater, right? if i could do this on the surface, i’d serenade you all day every day”

‘i’ll come underwater with you,’ you mouth before you can stop yourself

then you pause

well

you suppose being underwater isn’t so bad

it’s just dark since your eyes are closed

but you’re warm in taehyung’s arms

and you can even breathe too

if you can hear taehyung’s voice and hear him sing, then surely, that is a tiny sacrifice you can make

“you’re gonna come underwater with me?? again??” taehyung seems in disbelief. “you already seem uncomfortable now!”

‘no i’m not!’

and to prove it, you force your eyes open

immediately, you’re so taken aback, your grip on taehyung loosens

the merman catches you before you slip away

‘o-oh…’ you breathe

the ocean is not as dark as you had imagined it

in fact, there is a halo-like light that surrounds taehyung

it illuminates his face, his hair, his whole body

he is like a walking—er, swimming—star

the light shines further out into the dark seas, making the water sparkle

‘oh…’ you breathe again

“nothing to be scared about right?” taehyung snorts. “scaredy-cat”

he bops you on the nose

you’re so in awe, you don’t even mind

“are you inspired now?”

oh!! right!! your art final!!

you were almost distracted again (even after taehyung just dangled the answer in front of your face!!)

RIGHT!

TAEHYUNG JUST HELPED YOU SOLVE YOUR ART FINAL FIASCO PROBLEM

YOU’RE SO INSPIRED YOU COULD PAINT FOURTEEN HUNDRED PAINTINGS RIGHT NOW

your fingers feel tingly

and your head whirls with ideas

taehyung’s voice, his song, his whole being…

it calls to you

omg

he just saved your ass

in one single song!!!

‘god, i’m so happy i could kiss you!’

and you’re not even joking

“kiss me??” taehyung seems taken aback, but he grins. “kiss?”

the way he seems curious about it, you’re not quite sure he even knows what that is

‘do you… do uh, merfolk kiss?’ you ask cautiously

taehyung smiles. “let’s find out”

his eyes sparkle as both of you begin to lean into each other

you take it slowly, admiring his alabaster skin, pink cheeks and rosy lips

he stares into your eyes and gently tucks your hair behind your ear

right before you move in to kiss his lips, he leans in to rest his forehead against yours

taehyung’s eyes flutter close and he sighs as you stay still in his arms, confused

but you decide to go with the flow, keeping your foreheads together as you close your eyes too

it’s an intimate moment

you, resting your forehead against his while under the same ocean you were once so scared of

you, feeling emotionally attached to a merman

you, dreaming of kissing taehyung. properly. you know, on the lips and whatnot

when taehyung finally pulls away, he grins

“wasn’t that a nice kiss?” he whispers, touching your cheeks and giggling just at the thought of it

yikes

how do you break it to him

that forehead touching is not really… the kissing you were thinking of

‘well…’ you giggle. ‘in the human world… um…’

“in the human world…?”

‘we kiss with our lips’

“oh!” taehyung exclaims. he scratches his head. “lips????”

‘like this!’

with that, you tug him into a kiss. a proper one this time

he melts in your arms, sighing as he leans forward and instinctively closes his eyes

you let yourself relax too

and god what the fuck

his lips feel so soft

is there a special ocean chapstick he uses???

does he use some special sand as a lip scrub??????

and even though he probably hasn’t kissed the human way before,,,

man he knows what he’s doing

it makes you think for a hot second

damn

you’re making out with a merman

… under the sea

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

this is what your life has become

and honestly, you can’t complain

taehyung’s the first to pull away, panting slowly. “i didn’t think my breath could ever be taken away,” he grins cheesily

‘you’re welcome,’ you grin back, slightly breathless yourself

“so… now that i’ve given you amazing inspiration… don’t you need to write it down somewhere?”

‘oh!’ you gasp. ‘right!’

you need to get started on painting as soon as possible!!! you can’t ever forget the feeling of taehyung… singing for you. but something about painting it when the memory’s fresh promises the best results

what calls to you…

you smile

a goddamn merman!!

literally

you’re so gonna ace this art final

you paint nonstop for four days

although you want to, you can’t even visit the beach

because you absolutely HATE it when your workflow is stopped

so you have to keep on painting until you finish

you force yoongi to go out on the beach and lay some cookies on your special rocky ledge. he frowns at your strange directions

“i dOn’T thInK yOu sHouLd fEeD tHe sEaGuLlS, y/N. iT’s gOnNa iNtErRuPt tHe eCoLoGicAl bAlaNce,” yoongi says very knowledgeably

oh god

you tell him to shut up

he pats your head and walks out toward the beach with the cookies

at least he doesn’t ask questions

you just hope taehyung takes the cookies as an apology

you don’t want him to think after you kissed him, you ditched him!! you’re just busy with your art final!!!

so you also make yoongi sneak in a note and a slice of cake the next time

except yoongi comes back in ten minutes and aSks: “WHO’S TAEHYUNG???”

you gulp

but you pretend you can’t hear yoongi as you continue painting on your canvas

the perfect, bright turquoise color was very hard to recreate with paints, but you somehow managed. you just need to add some finishing touches and your beautiful painting of your merman friend will be finished

you know yoongi secretly admires your art skills, but he laUghs when he sees you painting a merman

“is that a siren???”

“no—”

“a mermaid, then?”

“a merman,” you say. “and he’s singing the most beautiful song in the history of songs”

yoongi laughs. “sure, sure. looks nice, though.” he steps closer to the canvas. “really like what you did with his facial structure or whatever. and his hair color. pretty tail too. i did not know you had the capacity to imagine that hard”

you huff. well, technically… you didn’t imagine that. but you’re not going to admit it with yoongi

“i’m more talented than you think,” you snort, stretching back and picking at the paint dried to your fingers. “if i close my eyes, i can almost hear him sing to me”

“um, i think you fell in love with your own painting,” yoongi snorts

“oh, leave me alone”

yoongi raises up two hands in defense. “okay, well, the final’s due tomorrow, right? are you done?”

“well…” technically, yes. but… “i’m gonna go to the beach”

“wait a minute, with your painting??? dude, what if a seagull snatches it away? what if the paint chips? leave your painting! that’s your final”

“i’ll be careful!”

“your idea of careful is reckless”

you sigh. “well, i’ll be extra careful!”

yoongi can’t argue with you after that. 1) because he knows you’re stubborn and won’t give up and 2) because when you say you’re gonna be extra with anything, you go all out

you take nearly twenty minutes getting to the beach because you walk very slowly with your painting in both hands. you hold the painting above your head so sand won’t fly onto it

and you check out for those nasty seagulls because sometimes they decide to shit on people’s heads

if they decide it’s a good day to shit on your final, it’s over

nevertheless, you need to show your masterpiece to taehyung

when you get to the rocky ledge, you call for the merman

in just a few seconds, taehyung pops up his head from under the water

“were you waiting for me?” you laugh. “did you get the cookies and cake i sent?”

taehyung nods, grinning as he begins to swim toward you. he points curiously at the canvas in your hands

“it’s my art final,” you explain to him. you turn it around so taehyung can see it

he gasps

‘that’s me???’

“yup”

‘you didn’t draw my abs!!’

“well, can’t draw what you don’t have,” you giggle, teasing the pouting merman. he huffs

‘i like it, though’

“reallY??” you gush. “that’s all i wanted to hear!!”

you set the painting down carefully to the side and scoot closer to the rocky ledge

taehyung rests his hand on your forehead before cupping your cheek. he grins before cocking his eyebrows and pulling your head underwater

‘taehyung!!!’ you shriek

“i just wanted to tell you how beautifully you drew me,” taehyung laughs, booping your nose. “i mean, i’m much, much better looking in real life, but the colors. you’re very talented, y/n”

you smile. ‘well, i did try really har—”

taehyung interrupts you by kissing you. he misses your lips the first time and gets the corner of your mouth, but the second time, his lips meet yours perfectly

the heavenly moment would’ve lasted wayyy longer if it weren’t for the:

“Y/N, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STICKING YOUR HEAD IN THE WATER???”

you let out a silent shriek and taehyung’s eyes widen. both of you break apart from the kiss and taehyung suddenly dives deep down into the ocean

and right when the merman is out of your range, you can’t breathe nor see clearly in the ocean anymore

when you get your head out of the waters, you’re a choking, coughing mess

you wipe away the droplets of water streaming down your face before you look up to see yoongi

“are you bobbing for fish in the ocean?” yoongi snorts. “for fuck’s sake, y/n, you can’t just leave your art final around like this!”

your best friend picks up your precious painting of taehyung and sighs. “what were you doing?”

“i, uh…” you touch your lips. “i was… uh… i dropped my ring in the water”

yoongi narrows his eyes. “you don’t even wear jewelry”

“okay fine. i was just trying to meet the merman of my dreams underwater”

at that, yoongi raises his eyebrows. “cool,” he says

“cool??” is that all he had to say?

“well, yeah. mermaids are cool”

“merman”

“whatever”

yoongi’s so chill with it that you’re unchill

“are you sure??” you say.

“am i sure that it’s whatever?” yoongi snorts. “yes? c’mon, let’s go watch a ocean life documentary with hoseok or something. finals is gonna be over soon, so we should celebrate starting now”

hm

okay well

cool

this is chill then

yoongi is chill

you suspect he doesn’t believe you, even though you told him the truth

you could probably tell him that you kissed taehyung, a merman, but he would probably laugh it off

your best friend is quite strange. no-nonsense. sensible. rational.

but you love those things about him

yoongi helps you carry your art final back to the dorms. but just before you step off the rocky ledge, you turn around

taehyung’s waving at you very discreetly, so you smile and wave back

yoongi never notices a single thing

welp

it’s over now

finals is over

which means,,, IT’S BEACH TIME

unfortunately, everyone in the whole fucking school think’s it’s beach time too

even late at night, there are still a few idiots on the beach drinking the last of the beer they stashed away

it’s hard to meet taehyung just because the lack of privacy

you wait and wait and wait on the rocky ledge, but you know, with so many people, taehyung probably wouldn’t want to come out of hiding

it’s one thing for a merman to trust one girl

it’s another for a merman to trust fifty rowdy college students

but you have a feeling taehyung is always close by

you visit the rocky ledge every day, singing some of your own little songs (though you’re not a very good singer, you try)

you even talk to taehyung like he’s there, listening to you

but it starts to get lonely

there are so many people on the beach, but the one being you want isn’t here

you sigh, wiggling your toes that have become pruned due to the salty water. “i never thought i’d be saying this,” you say. “but i miss finals week”

taehyung would have laughed if he was with you now

god, you miss him

“or maybe you’re in the water right now, waiting for me to jump in…”

you sigh again. “or maybe you’ve migrated or something. do you even have to migrate? i have no idea…” you trail off, looking at the blue waters lapping at the sides of the rock

cautiously, you dip one foot in

the water’s cool, but not completely freezing

you dip the other foot in

okay

you can do this

you’ll just…

jump in

and if taehyung’s not underwater, you’ll just… leave for the day

you’re supposed to hang out at a computer cafe with yoongi and hoseok anyway

okay deep breath in

deep breath out

goblin sharks don’t even live near the shallow part of the ocean… right?????

so you’re safe, right????

unless there’s a lemon shark or something

oh fucking god

you shouldn’t have watched that ocean documentary with your friends

but the need to see taehyung surpasses everything

you close your eyes

pinch your nose with your fingers

and you JUMP

and immediately you gasp because fuck the water’s cold

lowkey, your heart nearly stops because of the sudden rush of cool water surrounding your whole body

and right when you think you should swim back to the surface, a pair of strong arms hold you, and a soft hand taps at your forehead

“hello, you”

‘TAEHYUNG!’ you open your eyes and see your favorite merman staring at you

“the beach is crowded these days, isn’t it?” he grins

‘i know! pesky people!’

taehyung laughs. “i made another song while you were gone. nice singing, by the way. i heard you a couple days ago”

you flush. ‘i can’t sing! but um, can i hear your new song?’

taehyung nods, clearing his throat

he holds your hands to his chest and begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your waiting ears

and gently kisses your lips

there lies a beautiful ocean

the waves ripple beneath the awakened sky

under these waters

is a happy merman

he’s found his friend,

his lover,

his treasure that has saved him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the beautiful ocean rests

where the waters ripple beneath the awakened sky

where the happy merman lives

under these sparkling waters”

‘you changed the lyrics!!’

taehyung nods. “i think it’s much more fitting, don’t you think?”

the two of your resurface from the waters, gripping each other tightly

your hair is completely dry and it blows in the light breeze

the sunlight warms your face and turns taehyung’s cheeks even rosier

oh god

your heart skips a beat

but you try to calm down before you wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck and pull him close

the moment your forehead touches his, you close your eyes and it feels like there’s nothing else in the ocean, on the beach, except you and taehyung

the two of you may never speak out loud in the same place as you’re kept silent in the ocean and taehyung’s kept silent on land

but...

sometimes, you don’t even need words

gazes, actions, little touches here and there

they speak in louder volume than words

you don’t even have to say you love taehyung. he doesn’t have to say it either

it’s as if both of your hearts, your actions proved it

masterlist

[thiswasinevitableid]

.. for mermay.. 8, indruck nsfw?

Here you go! Duck’s design is based on a rudderfish.

Authors note: since prompt 8 is “drunk,” drinking is mentioned in this. It’s also implied Indrid is doing some self-destructive behaviors to cope with trauma.

The party is a splendid success, as was the book launch that preceded it. Indrid has done what he does best, lined his pockets and those of his agents and editors, and gotten everyone talking. 

“Did you see the one of the pyres?”

“The one of the hurricane aftermath, the look in the girls eyes is so haunting.”

“Personally, I found the jeweled mummies a bit much, but the emergency room shots? Stunning.”

This is why Indrid is sitting on the rocks on his private cove, and will not be going back up to the house until he’s polished off all three of these heavily spiked bottles of eggnog. It’s better than the time he emptied most of a bottle of vanilla vodka, but not by much. 

He was tipsy when he snuck out the back door and down the path to the sea. So when the empty bottle rolls away, all he can do is whap at the air close to it and wave as it plonks into the water.

“Oops. Hic, oh, hic, well, what’s one more piece of trash in, hic, a dying world?”

He yelps, knocking his remaining bottles into the sand as the lost one flies through the air towards him. Or he thinks that’s the trajectory; it’s hard to tell. The point is, the bottle is back and he’s clutching his chest like an old man in a silent movie.

“Look, man, I know it’s temptin to just leave trash everywhere, but there are signs up and down this beach sayin not to litter.” A man floats in the water at the foot of the rock, black hair plastered to his forehead and muscular arms crossed over a bare chest. 

“It, hic, it was an accident. And I am, hic, in no condition to retrieve anything from the water.”

The man frowns, “shit, if you’re that drunk, you oughta get off the rocks. It’s deep here, you might drown. Go sit on the sand, it’s safer. Warmer too, still holdin heat from the sun.”

“I, I’m fine, hic, don’t, don’t need some wet man babying me.” He stands to prove his point, nearly falls face first into the water, and sits back down, “see, m’fine.”

“Get off the rock.” The man says, sounding for all the world like a cat owner two seconds from grabbing the spray bottle. 

“No.” Indrid huffs. 

Water splashes his face and he sputters.

The man pulls his hand back, preparing to send another wave at him, “Get.”

“Fuck you” 

The splash is much more intense this time and he curses, scrambles sideways, and falls to his knees in the sand. 

“That’s better, now I don’t gotta worry about fishin your careless ass outta the water.”

“If, if we are, hic, t-talking careless, you, you shouldn’t say a thing. You’re, hic, swimming in cold water with, without a wetsuit.”

The man shrugs, “Don’t need one.” With that he floats on his back, bringing a dark-scaled tail into view. 

“You’re, hic, you’re a merman.” He crawls forward, breathless, “that’s so cool, wanna, gotta photograph you, so handsome, gotta-”

“Nope” The merman swims back into deeper water, “no pictures, those can end real bad for us.”

“But, but you’re so beautiful. If, hic, if pictures are no good, I, I can draw. I draw good, even if no one likes it.”

“Uh, you really wanna sit on a cold beach paintin my picture instead of hangin out at that shindig?” He points up the hill to the brightly lit house. 

“No, nonono, hic, don’t, don’t wanna go back up there, s’awful, hic.” 

“Awful?” The merman sounds concerned, and in the patchy moonlight he swims close enough that Indrid can see the details of his face, “is someone up there hurtin you?”

“No” He shakes his head, “it, it-”

“Indrid!”

“Damn it.” He mutters as the merman retreat beneath waves. As his guests grow closer he stands, carefully picks up all three bottles, and heads uphill to meet them.

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

Indrid shuffles through the house, head pounding, decides he hates the following people, in this order:

-His agent

-Himself

-Whoever mentioned it was a shame there were no Plata River Bridge photos, causing Indrid to drink a whole martini in order to bite his tongue.

It’s not until his third cup of coffee that he remembers the merman. God, he was really rude to someone who was just trying to keep him from drowning.

Very, very carefully, he makes his way to the beach, sketchbook in one hand and thermos in the other. 

“Hello?” He calls across the water. No reply. Of course there isn’t; the merman has the whole ocean to explore, there’s no reason for him to hang around Indrid’s house. He sighs, sits down on a piece of driftwood, and draws. Normally the cold would drive him back indoors, but today it’s bracing, blowing his hangover off of him and down the sand. 

“Glad to see you’re in one piece” 

Indrid sits bolt upright. The merman waves to him.

“You came back?”

“Yeah? I mean, this is part of my rounds, so I come by here at least once a day. More surprised you’re down here when it’s all cold and grey.”

“I, ah, I wanted to apologize for last night. I was being stubborn and rude.”

“You were, but I was kinda grumpy too. At the end of my shift and all that, but I shouldn’t have splashed you.” He smiles, swims closer, “do you, uh, remember any of the other stuff you said?”

“I have a vague memory of begging to photograph you. Or maybe draw, it’s all very fuzzy.”

“You did. I, uh” the merman’s cheeks turn pink, “you were really, uh, well let’s just say you were excited at the idea of drawin me, so I thought maybe, if you wanted to..”

“Yes”  Indrid shifts down into the sand so he can rest his back on the log, “can we do it now? You said you were on rounds, and if you’re working I don’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m done for the day. Should I get on a rock or somethin?”

“Can you come on the sand at all? Oh, ah, it seems you can.” Indrid scoots back as the merman slides gracefully ashore. In the daylight, his tail is a rich green-brown, his hair streaked with grey near his forehead. His eyes, one green and one brown, regard Indrid with curiosity as he turns to a new page. 

“You got a name?”

“Indrid. Indrid Cold.”

“Duck Newton. It’s a nickname.” The mer stretches his arms and tail, and were Indrid in a self-flattering frame of mind he’d say he was flexing for him, “I gotta pose?”

“No, as long as you don’t move too much, I should be fine.”

Duck nods, shifts onto his belly with his tail dipped in the surf. Indrid sets his pen to paper, asks Duck what he does for work and when the tunnel vision of his project dissipates, it’s dusk.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long.”

The merman yawns, “S’okay, it was nice talkin with you, and I got to birdwatch some. Can I see?”

Indrid turns the sketchbook. Mis-matched eyes widen. 

“Holy fuck. You made me look damn good.”

“I simply captured you as you are.” Indrid feels a blush moving up his cheeks as Duck scoots closer. 

“You gonna do this tomorrow?  If, uh, if you don’t wanna draw me again, I can bring you some interestin stuff from the water. If, uh, if you want.”

His schedule for tomorrow starts with a phone interview, after which he was planning to sit in a dark living room and watch mindless T.V.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you, Duck.”

The merman beams, waves, and then pushes back into the sea, raising his tail once in farewell. 

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

“...now, Juno thinks it’s-holy fuck ‘Drid, was that your stomach?” Duck raises his head from where he’s been sort-of-napping, sort of talking.

“Hmm? Yes, I suppose it was.” He has his watercolors out today, a surprise stretch of sunny days rendering the beach and hillsides in glorious technicolor. 

“When did you last eat?”

“..............”

“Oh my fuckin god, ‘Drid, no wonder you look like you’re close to passin out.”

“I’m fine.” 

Duck has that look on his face again, the one he got when Indrid admitted to walking the cliff-side trails when he’s coming back from the roadhouse on the edge of town. When Indrid says he hasn’t slept in two days. 

The merman says nothing, goes back to reading the book of nature essays Indrid brought him. A buzz cuts through the air and he groans, shuts off the alarm on his phone, “I need to go get ready for that interview.”

“You wanna meet up tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Great. But, uh, seem to remember you promised me some of those cookies you say are the best in the world.”

Indrid smirks, “I suppose I did.”

“I want some. But not for dinner, with dinner. You feel me?” There’s an edge in his drawl, as formidable and unyielding as the nearby cliff-face. 

“Alright, I'll bring you some other things to try.” Indrid smiles, suddenly looking forward to a grocery run. 

Duck, now in the water, looks over his shoulder, “Good boy.”

Indrid shivers even as heat blooms in his chest. 

When sunset graces the beach, Indrid is busy setting out a half dozen take-out containers and many plastic boxes of cookies and fruit.

“Damn” Duck slides and wiggles his way onto the sand by the blanket, “you went all out.”

“You wanted a meal. I brought you one.”

“Sure did.” Duck sniffs the air, taps a carry-out bowl of soup, “what’s this?”

“Umm” Indrid peers at the label, “french onion soup.”

“Can I have it?”

“Of course.”

The merman downs the soup as fast as temperature allows, munches happily on the orange segments Indrid peels and samples the cookies. 

“Ahhh” He flops his head into Indrid’s lap, “that hit the spot.”

The human nods, bottle of pineapple soda on his lips. He’s so happy and full. 

Wait.

“Duck? Did you suggest this just so I would eat something?”

The face in his lap only looks a little chagrined, “Kinda. I been meanin to suggest this, and today seemed like the right time. And, uh, I know sometimes I have a hard time lookin after myself for me, but if someone else tells me to do it, or I have to do it as part of lookin after them, it’s easier. Thought that might be goin’ on with you. I, uh, I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Nono” Indrid sets a hand in his hair, stroking it so Duck rubs his cheek against his thigh, “you’re right. It was easier to do the kind thing for myself when you told me to. Would, ah, would you be willing to do it again.” 

Duck meets his eyes, gaze bubbling with something dark and alluring, “Sure thing, ‘Drid.”

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

“Before you go, I wanted to give you this.” Indrid holds out the small camera. Duck, perched on a rock, takes it with a puzzled frown. He adds, “It’s waterproof. You mentioned you wish you could take pictures of the things you see in your home. I couldn’t think of a better time to give you than your trip.”

“Thanks, ‘Drid.” Duck leans forward, rubbing their cheeks together, “you remember your instructions?”

“Yes.” He whimpers when Duck pulls back. 

“Good. Want you in good shape when I get home.” Duck’s voice returns to normal, “should be back in a week. I’ll see you then.”

Indrid waves goodbye, keeps waving well past the point where Duck could see him, even if he surfaced. Then he grabs the basket of fresh oysters and heads to the house to call Barclay. 

The phone calls and dinners with one of his few friends in town are part of his agreement with Duck. The mer told him he couldn’t meet every night, so maybe Indrid should find other forms of company. He also helpfully supplies Indrid with fresh shellfish that he has no idea how to cook, but his friend the professional chef certainly does. This dovetails nicely with his promise to Duck to eat at least one full meal a day.

It’s not just the strange dynamic they’ve hit upon that’s improving his life; it’s Duck. The merman makes him feel so safe, like someone cares about the real him and not just the him that makes them money or feeds their morbid curiosity. Not to mention he’s even more handsome than Indrid first thought and he spends plenty of nights jerking off to the thought of a cool, strong tail between his legs. 

He does well the first five days Duck is gone. Barclay and Dani come over for dinner, he paints and draws prolifically, and he even reads up on whether it’s feasible for him to adopt rats (“those are kinda like otters, right?” “close enough.”). Friday night his agent calls, excitedly reporting that it’ll soon be the fifth anniversary of the Plata River incident and the magazine is getting requests for a feature on it and Indrid will be perfect. 

Indrid says he’ll think about it, hangs up, and opens the fridge. He promised Duck he’d only drink if it was with dinner or with friends. He grabs two wine coolers and heads into the living room. 

The next day, he’s idly fiddling with the dating app he hasn’t touched since December when a new profile appears. Very good looking, close by, clearly just passing through town, and interested in Indrid. He invites him over, spends the next half hour getting ready, and even cleans the bedroom because well, that’s what he’d do for Duck, he should do it for anyone else he brings over. 

Indrid opens the door at the second knock. The guy takes one look at him, shakes his head, and returns to his car.

Indrid downs the remaining wine coolers and goes down to the beach to sulk. He tucks his legs up, pressing his forehead to his knees, and rocks back and forth. He’s nearly sober when a voice drifts across the waves.

“‘Drid?” 

He looks up, glasses slipping down his nose, “Duck? You’re, you’re back.”

“Yep. It was fast goin the last ten miles. Brought the camera back, think you gotta be the one to get the pictures off, but I can’t wait to show you all the cool shit we saw.”

“Me neither” He stands and instantly pitches forward, landing on his hands and knees in the shallow water. 

“You been drinking?”

“Yes.”

“You and Barclay have a good time?” He’s giving him the benefit of the doubt, giving him an out, and Indrid decides that isn’t what he wants. 

“I wasn't with Barclay. I got horrible news last night, and today I tried to get laid and got rejected, and I’m at the point in my life where I nearly called after the guy that he could keep his eyes shut and I’d just blow him so he wouldn’t need to look at or touch me. So yes, Duck, I’ve been drinking.”

Duck’s expression swims between concern and disappointment, then comes to rest on neutral steel, “That ain’t what we agreed.”

“I’m aware. But I don’t care, I don’t” he aims a splash at Duck, “it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, nothing will come of it, same as always.”

The merman cocks an eyebrow, “You really think that? You forgettin I said there’d be consequences if you broke the rules?”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.” Indrid splashes him again.

Duck smiles, reminding him that all his teeth end in points, “Didn’t say anythin about scarin you. You really wanna believe that nothing matters, you can head home. Or” he points to a nearby rock, “you go get on your hands and knees, facin the cliffs.”

Indrid crawls gracelessly to the designated spot. It’s dangerous to turn his back on the ocean, but a gentle voice in his mind reminds him over and over that Duck is here. Duck won’t let him get hurt. 

There’s a splash as Duck pulls himself onto the rock. Then a whoosh of air and a sting in the right side of his ass. He yelps, startled, and looks behind him.

“If this ain’t okay, need you to say so now.” Duck’s eyes are wide and hungry, but his hands stay on the grey rock. 

“It’s okay.” He can’t believe this is happening, can’t decide if he should tell Duck this is not remotely a punishment. 

Another sharp grin, “Eyes front.”

Indrid’s barely obeyed when the next strike comes. Duck is strong and makes no attempt to hide it, hitting him hard enough that his knees jolt forward in the sand. The pain lights him up each time, forces the thing knotted in his chest up towards his throat. 

When the blows stop he whimpers, pushing his ass back in hopes of more.

“Don’t worry, ‘Drid, I ain’t done with you by a long shot.” Cold fingers undo his fly, bring his pants and underwear down to his thighs. He’s expecting another hit, wiggles his ass in anticipation. 

What he gets are teeth sinking into his skin.

“AH!GOD” He yells loud enough that his throat hurts.

Duck chuckles, “Holler all you want, we both know no one can hear what goes on on this beach, especially with all the wind.” He bites down again, Indrid thrashing and moaning as teeth sink into already reddened skin. Duck growls in reply, savaging the meat of his as and grazing his teeth along his thighs, dangerously close to his balls. He’s already getting hard, the process expedited by warm breath and lips on his body. 

He moans embarrassingly loud when Duck shoves his ass apart.

“Damn, you really did get all prepped for that fella. Shame, he didn’t know what he was missin.” The plug hits the sand to his right.

“You, you don’t have to flatter meEEEoh, oh Duckohmygoodness.” His fingers dig into the sand as the merman teases his rim with a flexible tongue. There’s a muffled laugh, but Duck doesn’t respond beyond that, too busy threatening him with a good time as his tongue gives an experimental push. 

Then it retreats and he turns his head left and right, delivering quick bites to either cheek before his tongue returns. He alternates between the delicious, teasing licks and painful bites, the shift never coming when Indrid expects and causing him to cry out every time. When the mer releases one side of his ass in order to slap his thighs while he continues licking, kissing, and nipping his way across bruised, sensitive skin, Indrid lets out a strangled sound, the thing in his chest now trapped at the back of his throat. 

“You make such cute noises, but they ain’t the ones I’m lookin for. I ain’t stoppin until you apologize.”

Indrid opens his mouth, intending to say something about how this is the wrong way to make him do so. 

“I, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry with me, don’t leave, don’t leave me here, I can’t, I, I don’t want to think about it, Duck please, I’m sorry, so sorry” he;s hunched forward, sobbing into the sand, when he realizes he’s fully clothed and Duck isn’t behind him.

“No” he squeaks, “no please don’t go.”

“I ain’t goin anywhere.” Duck slides up the sand next to him, pulls him into his arms, “I’m so sorry darlin, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I took it too far, I ain’t mad, not really” he eases Indrid’s glasses off and sets them out of harms way, “oh darlin, c’mere, it’s okay” salty kisses dot his forehead and green scales pet his legs. 

“It’s, hic, it’s not your fault. I, I l-liked it, but this has, hic, been building up for months. Years.” He hides his face in Duck’s chest.

“Years?” Duck grabs Indrid’s sweater from where he cast it off, draping it over the human. 

Indrid sniffs, “You know I’m a photographer. But I’ve never told you what I photograph. I, I made my name recording disasters and their aftermath. For a long time I took pride in it; someone has to document those things, so we can’t erase them, so we have to confront them and try to make things better, or try to keep such tragedy from reoccurring. I was so good at recording it I became famous. Wealthy. And I learned that most people like to gawk at horror and then go about their days. I, I tried branching out and...and I ended up with a disaster anyway. A bridge collapse, I chronicled everything from the instant it started to the funerals and it, it was too much. Ever since then I’ve felt trapped by my work. At times, by my life. My agent wants me to go back for the fifth anniversary, he told me so last night.”

“You ain’t goin, right?” 

“I don’t think I can.” 

Duck nods, rests his chin atop his head, “tell me what you wanna do instead.”

He does. He tells him about his other art, about the pitches for childrens books and the plans for a real vacation, about the life that, for the first time, feels in reach when he speaks about it. By the time he’s done the stars are out and he’s much calmer and clear-headed.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? That, that you thought I was attractive?”

“Every damn word.” Duck rolls them so Indrid is on his back, kisses his cheek, “thought so since that first night. But, uh” his gaze flicks down to Indrid’s crotch, “if you want more proof I’m happy to give it.”

“Please?”

“Get your pants off and lay on your sweater.”

Indrid complies, shivers when Duck guides his shirt up and off. 

“Fuuuuck” the mer rubs his hands up and down his torso, “when it warms up, you’re gonna swim out with me so I can get my fill of this while you ride my dick.”

“Yes. Ah, I, I did prep, but it’s been long enough now that lubrication may be an issueOOOh, ooohyes.” He release into the sand as Duck grinds his tail against his cock. The scales feel as lovely now as they do when he pets them, and he wonders if Duck will let him get off by humping his tail one of these days.

“It won’t, trust me. Lemme just--there we go. Open your legs. Heh, eager little thing.”

“I’ve wanted this too long to play coy.”

“Good.”

“Eeep!” Something slick and squirming presses into his ass, “do, do you have tentacles?”

“Kinda? They’re just the tip, for this exact reason. It, uh, it feel okay?” Duck smiles reassuringly and that, combined with the genuine concern in his voice makes Indrid moans and nudge him closer. 

“VeryOH, oohgracious” two more tentacles join the first, pulsing and scissoring him open, “how many are there?”

“About eight.”

He moans louder and Duck laughs, pushes his hips forward, “glad you like it, darlin’. Because from where I’m sittin your ass is fuckin amazin and I wanna be as deep in it as I can.”

“Yes, absolutely, pleaseAHHnnn” enough tentacles now that he can’t keep an accurate count, “please use it as you see fit.”

“As I see fit huh? That’s a tricky question. See, sometimes I wanna, fuck, wanna shove the whole thing in you at once and make you scream while I leave my mark on your neck.”

“AHHnnngod” A firmer shaft pushes in, ridges rubbing all the right places as the tentacles continue exploring him. 

“Other times, think it’s better to tease you with the tip, maybe make you blow me first and jerk you off until you’re beggin for my dick.”

“Yes, yesyesyesyes”

“But tonight” Duck bottoms out with a groan, “I’m gonna take it nice and slow, show you just how fuckin wonderful you are. How much you mean to me. My Indrid.”

“Yours” Indrid twines his limbs around him, “god, Duck, it feels so good, you’re so good, you always look after me.”

“That I do. Because you deserve it. And” the tentacles find his prostate and he nearly howls as Duck continues, “you deserve to learn how t’be nice to yourself. And I, ahfuck, know that ain’t easy, but I’m gonna be here to help.”

“Yes, ohgod, yes, you’re, you’re so perfect, aaAAAhnI, I’m, close sweetheart, you fill me so well.”

“Damn right. Gonna, nnngh, gonna find every fuckin way to fill you, make you feel fuckin amazin, fuck, that’s it darlin, ohfuckyeah” as he starts spilling into him, Indrid cums with a shout, splattering their stomachs. Duck moans at the sight, wriggles his hips as his shaft continues rippling and pulsing. It turns out mer orgasms are long, so long that Indrid is whimpering from overstimulation by the time Duck pulls out. 

A gentle, salt-soaked kiss to his lips, “Lookit you, took it all. You’re so good for me, darlin.”

“Mmmhmm” He doesn’t want to let go, cold, wind, and damp be damned. Duck seems to understand, holds him and whispers sweet promises in his ears until he’s shivering.

“‘Drid, your teeth are chatterin.”

“I kn-know, I s-should g-go home and w-warm up.”

Duck kisses him again, “sooner you go and rest, sooner we can do this again.”

“An excellent p-point.” He stands, blows a shaky kiss towards his future, “see you tomorrow.”

[zacc-attacc]

Nature: A Javid Oneshot

A/N: My first ever oneshot on this website! I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count- 1.2k

Jack loved the open sky. He loved the stars, the sounds of nature, and everything in between. But, more than anything, it calmed him, something that not many things were able to do. As a kid, he had always dreamed of falling asleep under the stars every single night. And when he was bounced around in foster care, the night sky had been the one common variable. Always there, like a blanket. Luckily for Jack, Some of the Newsies had put together a camping trip in the woods near campus. They had tents (from the Dollar Tree, probably), a bunch of marshmallows, some hotdogs, and a whole lot of energy. And Jack? Jack an invite and a limited will to live. At least Davey would be there, which, to be honest, had its ups and downs.

Ups, because Davey was single-handedly the sweetest human alive and a fun dude to hang out with. And downs, because Davey was Mom Friend Supreme™ and also had an annoying tendency to make Jack’s normally stoic heart do a tap dance in his chest. Which really was inconvenient because Jack’s last relationship had ended only four weeks ago. It wasn’t a nasty breakup, he and Katherine were actually still friends, but the boys still expected him to be depressed about it. But Jack didn’t like to linger. He was upset for a few days, but now he was over it. Katherine obviously was as well, since she was seen going on a few coffee dates with some girl. 

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he could be whoever he wanted to be because that’s just how it was with the Newsies.

Tonight, he could eat bargain hot dogs and s’ mores, and avoid the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the only man he couldn’t have; because god forbid David Jacobs dated a mess like him. 

Jack knew exactly where he lay in David’s mind. He was a close friend, maybe a sort of Uncle to his future children with his perfect little life with his husband in the suburbs. David liked him well enough, but he would likely never love him. And Jack had tried to accept that, even though, thus far, it had only made it much worse.

“Ay! Jack! You packed?” Crutchie yelled from his lower bunk. Jack was stretched out on the top bunk, staring at a half-finished political cartoon for his class. 

“Yeah… What time’d the guys say to be there?” Jack sat up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He wasn’t even that tall and it managed to injure him on a daily basis. 

“...In five minutes.”

“Shit-” Jack muttered, scrambling to jump down the bunk, only succeeding in hitting his head yet again on the ceiling. After hitting the floor in the heap, all Jack could hear was Crutchie’s cackles. 

“Just kidding, It’s actually in 20- I just wanted to see your reaction,” Crutchie wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Yeah, real funny, Crutch,” Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling. As much as he loved his little brother, he, unfortunately, knew exactly how to get Jack riled up quite easily, which normally ended in Jack running into a wall or stabbing himself in the arm with a pen in a panic.

“S’funny to me,” Crutchie choked out, still laughing. Jack pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the assorted chip crumbs that had migrated from the shitty shag carpeting of his dorm onto his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Jack muttered, grabbing Crutchie’s crutch from the wall and handing them to him. Looking at his laughing face, Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“Alright, let’s get a move on… You ready?” Jack shook his head while still grinning, snatching his duffle bag and Crutchie’s backpack from beside the door. 

“Ay! I can carry that!" Crutchie protested, making a grab at the bag. 

“Wow, brother dearest, won’t even let me carry a bag,” Jack joked, sticking out his tongue and popping into a dead sprint down the hallway. 

“NOW THAT’S JUST UNCALLED FOR!” Crutchie yelled from the hallway. 

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, STUPID HEAD!” Jack shouted back, slamming open the door for the stairs and sliding onto the railings down the flights. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled out his phone.

“Text RaceyBoi.” 

“What would you like to say?” that stupid automated voice asked back, not fully human or robotic. 

“‘Can you go walk Crutchie to the campsite? Left him for CPS reasons.’” CPS was not, in fact, Child Protective Services, but instead Crutchie Protection Squad.

Smiling to himself, Jack started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of campus. He thought he saw Kid Blink and Spot at one point, Heely-ing towards the woods. He couldn’t help but wonder how the wheels would hold up amongst all the vegetation, and quietly hoped he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance tonight. 

“Hey, Jack!” came a familiar voice from behind him. His heart automatically deciding to kick into overdrive, Jack turned around to see none other than David Jacobs, grinning and clutching a duffle bag. 

“Whaddup, Dave,” Jack grinned back, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. Seriously, who gave him the right to be this tall? He was like a noodle with a head and arms. 

“You heading down to the campsite?” Davey asked, falling into step with Jack. 

“That’s the plan. Race is taking Crutchie so that idiot won’t try to carry his backpack again.” 

“...You realize he can carry it perfectly fine, right?” Davey said, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, but I just feel like doin’ something nice for him, y’ know?” 

“You may be stupid at times, but you are a good brother, Jack Kelly,” Davey chuckled, taking off his hat and flipping it backward. 

“Ey, now don’t get to tellin’ the boys that, I have a reputation as a jerk to keep,” Jack couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he stop smiling? He felt like someone had turned him into the fucking sun from the Teletubbies. 

“I don’t think you could pass as a jerk if you tried,” Davey shrugged, looking into Jack’s eyes so he could get the point across. God, his eyes were brown. Beautiful, chocolatey, perfect brown. 

“You would be surprised,” Jack said, tearing his eyes away. 

Don’t let yourself get attached, dammit. 

“Hey,” Davey stopped. Jack stopped too, staring at him. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

“Don’t… Don’t talk like that. I know you, Jackie. Okay? And you aren’t an asshole.” 

“Jeez, David, only a few minutes into the trip and you’re already on the late-night talks-” Jack turned away, hoping Davey couldn’t see that he was blushing. 

“I need to hear you say it, okay?” He turned Jack around, forcing him yet again to look into his eyes. 

“Fine. I… I ain’t an asshole. Ya happy?” Jack bit his tongue forcefully. That almost physically pained him to say. 

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry Jack,” Davey said. Jack still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Don’t apologize for caring, Davey.” 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late. The shitty fire that had taken them almost a full hour to make was burning low, and Jack had to keep prodding it with a random stick to keep it lit. Most of the boys had already retired to their tents and sleeping bags, and Davey was fast asleep on his chair. Race was the only one still out. 

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Race said, tossing the remains of his s’more into the fire. 

“What? Oh, nah, I’ll wake him up when I head in. Poor kid, being a pre-med student probably never sleeps,” Jack pointed out. 

“How long do you think you’ll be staying out?” Race asked, standing up and stretching. 

“‘Till I get tired,” Jack prodded the fire again, before throwing in another stick. 

“Then he’ll be out here all night,” Race joked, cracking a smile.

“I’ll wake him up before then. Wouldn’t want him to get hypothermia or some shit.” 

“It’s the middle of April, I highly doubt he’ll get hypothermia, Jack.” 

“...Did Racetrack Higgins seriously just say an educated statement?”

“Goodnight-” Race turned away suddenly, seeming intent on changing the subject. 

“YOU CAN’T CHANGE IT NOW, WE KNOW YOU’RE SMART,” Jack whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake any of the boys up (especially not Davey). 

Race replied with his silence. 

Sighing, Jack sat back in his chair. Not having any will to sleep, and nothing more to do, he grabbed out his sketchbook. Nature was always good for inspiration. 

Well, it could’ve been nature, or it could’ve been Davey. Because, without even realizing it, Jack had started to sketch the sleeping boy’s figure. His right fist was supporting his cheek, his hat was half-tipped onto his face, shading it slightly. His legs were crossed, and his left arm was set on top of them. 

Behind him was a backdrop of pine trees, and, even though that wasn’t the actual view, a full moon, and stars. So many stars. All spelling out little words of love in Spanish, Jack’s first language. 

Precioso. Bonita. Perfecto. 

His hair was mostly tucked under his cap. His eyes were softer when he slept. A ghost of a smile played at his lips. 

Increíble. 

Perfect. 

Just as Jack was signing his name and dating the piece, Davey began to stir. 

Quickly shutting the book, Jack simply stared up at the stars he could see despite the light pollution and thick trees. 

“Hey, Jack, saw you drawing there,” Davey said, quietly. 

“Oh- uh- yeah, just… lookin’ through some old pieces,” Jack stammered. 

“Can I see?” 

“Uh- no, this isn’t my graded stuff, it’s all just sketches-“

“Y’know, for an art student, you really don’t like showing your art.” 

“Uh- Fine.” Jack gave up and strode across the fire to hand him the book. It was mostly drawings of the boys, maybe he wouldn’t look that far. 

...Spoiler alert, he looked that far. 

“...Is this me? Right back then, when I was sleeping?” 

“Uh-“

“You really made me look better than I’ve ever seen myself.” 

“Well, that’s how I see you,” Jack said before he could think about his words. Y’know, like a normal person who is trying to hide a massive crush that could end one of his best friendships. 

“Th-that’s… how you see me?” Davey was blushing now. Blushing. Not disgusted. 

“Uh… yeah. Y’see here, th-the moon behind ya, the way it… it focuses on you.” Jack said, kneeling by his chair and pointing to it. 

You are digging your own grave, Jack Kelly. 

“Jack, I… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Davey was still blushing. He turned his face to Jack’s. He was so close… 

“Well… I draw what I think, Dave, ‘cause words… they ain’t my strong suit,” Jack chuckled, pulling back. But Davey leaned forward. 

“Your drawings don’t need words, Jack. But the artist of them… That is a man that deserves millions of words said about him.” 

“D-Davey… Don’t. Please, don’t do this,” Jack shook his head, standing back up. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I- I’m sorry, I thought that we-“ 

“No, David. You didn’t. That’s the exact issue! D-d’ya really think I want to end up breaking your heart? We… We can’t do this, ‘cause it’ll end with me hurting you just like I have a million people! And you don’t deserve that fate! You’re too good for me, David,” Jack might’ve been crying. He wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell was ranting. 

“Jack-“ 

“Don’t Jack me, don’t try to act like it could be any different. We know exactly how this is going to end, and I- I can’t stand losing you, Dave.” 

There was a moment of silence. It was obvious Davey was picking his next words carefully. 

“You won’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“You won’t because I won’t let it, Jack Kelly. I won’t let you lose me as a friend, ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” 

“Da-“ 

In two strides, Davey crossed the circle of chairs and shut Jack up with a kiss, half-crushing him with how tightly he was holding him. 

He did this… this thing that made it obvious this wasn’t his first kiss. The way he moved his head up and down just a little bit. The way he seemed all in but ready to pull away if they needed to at any second. 

But more than anything, there was a definitive Davey-ness to him that made it all perfect. 

So Jack had found one more reason to like nature. It was where he shared his first-ever kiss with his boyfriend, David Jacobs.

[13-reasons-ideas]

I love that you’re one of the few writers that will write about Monty. I don’t support what he did but I love how much of a complex character do you think you could do a imagine where the reader used to date Monty but broke up bc of his recklessness. She started dating Justin but found out he cheated on her by hooking up with Jessica. Then Monty sneaks into her bedroom window and comforts her and it’s fluffy

“I’m sorry Montgomery.”

“Why (Y/N)?”

“I just can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep watching you self-destruct. I thought that when we got together, that maybe you would stop? That you would realize that your reckless behaviour had to come to an end? You’re an adult now. Your behaviour has actual, real consequences.”

“Self-destruct? You think that’s what it is?”

“I don’t know Monty. That’s just it. You don’t let me in. I never know what is going on in your head. I get you don’t like talking about stuff, but when you’re in a relationship with someone, you’re supposed to talk to them.”

“This is stupid.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. But you can’t sit here and tell me you haven’t seen this coming. Your behaviour needs to change. Your recklessness needs to stop. Before you do something you really regret or gets you hurt. Or worse. I just can’t be around to see it.”

“(Y/N) please. I’m trying.” He said, grabbing my hand.

“I really am sorry Montgomery. I hope you figure things out.” I smiled sadly at him before walking away, trying my damnedest to hold back tears. I couldn’t bring myself to look back.

TWO MONTHS LATER

I walked into school with my bag slung haphazardly over my shoulder, listening to a podcast on my phone. Before I could make my way to my locker, I was stopped abruptly by a blue and white jacket, causing me to stumble.

“Oof.” I grunted.

“Shit, sorry.” I heard Justin Foley, er… Jensen. Foley-Jensen? say.

“Yeah, whatever.” I replied, trying to walk away from him. Birds of a feather flock together. Same principle for jocks.

“Actually hey (Y/N). Wait up a second.”

I stopped and turned to him, “yes Justin? What can I do for you?”

“Well, when you put it that way, you can let me take you to dinner on Saturday.” He told me, rather than asked. I think I saw his chest puff out a bit.

“Uh, let me think for a minute about that.” I said, fully intending to say no. Suddenly I saw a familiar flannel shirt coming towards us. Making a show of thinking about it before responding, “pick me up at 7. I’ll text you my address.” I turned and walked away. Behind me I could practically hear Montgomery ringing Justin’s neck in his head. As I made my way to physics, I felt someone’s eyes on me. I didn’t need to turn to know who was watching.

Justin kept his word and was outside my house at 6:55 on Saturday. My mom let him in as I was grabbing my coat from my room. “Samantha is just about ready Justin, why don’t you have a seat.” I heard her say to him. Oh no, not the seat trick.

Running out of my room with my coat, I yelled, “that’s okay mom. I’m ready. He doesn’t need to sit.” When I got to the top of the stairs, I stopped. “Hey Justin.”

“Hey Sam.” He waved, “you look pretty tonight.”

I giggled quietly, “thanks.” I haven’t giggled in a long time. Pulling on a pair of worn chucks, I pulled on my coat and Justin led me out to the car. “Bye Mom. Don’t wait up.”

We joked around in the car a bit on the way to the restaurant. “Wait, so you actually told Clay that you’re a ‘fucking awesome driver’ and he believed you? Clay?”

“Yes. And I am, or had you not noticed?” He confirmed, motioning to the steering wheel with one hand.

“No, no I noticed. I’m just surprised Clay agreed. It took him like eight years to acknowledge you as more than ‘that kid’ or ‘ew Justin’.”

“Well, detoxing in a guy’s bedroom can do things to your relationship.”

“You puked on his bed, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… not my finest moment. At least it wasn’t Tony’s jacket.”

“Meh, happens to the best of us. Sometimes it happens. You’re right though. If it was Tony’s jacket, he would have killed you so you were all dead.”

“As opposed to?”

“Just mostly dead.”

Justin laughed heartily at the cheesy joke, “That was a good movie.”

We arrived at the local Italian restaurant and Justin was a wonderful gentleman. He opened my door for me, and we walked hand in hand to the door, which he also opened for me. After we were seated and had ordered, we continued our conversation from the car. “So, skipping over the ‘I was friends with Bryce Walker and that was a time’ thing, who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ve known each other since we were in middle school and all I know about you is you’re a jock, you were friends with Bryce, you dated Jessica Davis, and you were adopted by the Jensen’s for reasons I don’t think we need to discuss too much right now.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you like?”

“Like in general?”

“Yes. What does Justin like?”

“Hmmm… okay. Justin likes crappy movies.”

“Okay. What else do you like?”

“Annoying Clay.”

“Well that’s a given. Something I don’t know please?”

“You.” He responded, taking a sip of his water.

I blushed, and played with a strand of my hair, “oh?”

“Yeah. Why else would I have asked you to dinner?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t want to go to a restaurant by yourself?”

“Oh, sweetie. I wouldn’t just ask you for that. I would bring Clay or something. Or put my big boy pants on and come by myself.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you.” I surrendered as our meals came. I tried to hold back a very not first date appropriate moan as I took a bite. My eyes widened instead and Justin chuckled. At least, until he had a bite of his own food. His eyes widened and rolled back slightly. Wow. That’s… wow.

After a few more bites of the wonderful food, Justin directed his attention back to me, “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you like?”

“Oh umm, I like to run.” I said simply. I usually save the absentee father thing for the third date.

“That’s cool. What do you like about it?”

“I like that I can do it by myself and its just me, whatever I’m listening to at the time, and the pavement. I can just focus on that.”

“I can understand that. What else do you like?”

“I like art.”

“I know. I’ve seen you at lunch, hunched over your sketchbook. You always look so focused.”

“It’s nice to have something specific to focus on and get an end result that lasts a lifetime.”

“Can I see some of your drawing sometime?”

“Sure. Only if you let me draw you though.”

“Like one of your French girls?”

“No, you perv. You.”

“Okay, deal.”

“Great. I can’t wait.”

After dinner was done, we made a stop at Monet’s for some dessert. We split a slice of cake and a cookie before calling it a night. He drove me home and we sat in the car for a while, neither of us wanting the night to end. “I should probably head inside. It’s getting late.” I whispered.

“You should. But do you want to?” he whispered back, reaching over to turn my face towards him.

“No.” I whispered back.

“Me either.”

My eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and I leaned in slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips. They were smooth and tasted like vanilla.

I pulled away first, not really wanting to. “I should go inside now.” I whispered softly, so as not to ruin our moment.

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Okay.” I nodded and reached for the door handle.

“Bye (Y/N).”

“Bye Justin.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He’s really trying to drag this out.

“Bye. I’ll talk to you tomorrow and see you at school on Monday.”

“Okay.” He nodded and I took that as my queue to exit the vehicle. He waited for me to unlock the door and enter the house before leaving. I waved to him from my doorway as he backed out of my driveway and made his way home. That was perfect.

Justin called me the next day around one and we spent two hours on the phone together, just talking about random stuff. I learned of his very odd dislike of watermelon and he listened intently as I explained various art mediums. By the time Monday morning rolled around, I had a whole different idea of who Justin was. He was no longer the somewhat cocky jock. He was the sensitive boy I had only heard existed from friends of friends.

Monday morning, I decided to actually get up early and make myself look at least a little nice. I pulled out my favourite outfit, did stuff to my hair, and put on a touch of makeup. I stopped to get a coffee on my way and asked the barista what Justin’s order usually was. She was working Saturday night and saw us together, so she gave it to me readily. When I got to school, I sought Justin out and surprised him with his coffee. “Katie told me your order.” I explained at his questioning look.

“Thank you, it’s perfect.” He said, pulling me into his side and kissing the side of my head. I smiled, taking a sip of my own coffee and leaning into him.

“You guys are already cute. It’s sickening.” Clay said, giving Justin a light push. Once again, I felt someone’s eyes on the back of my head and had to resist the urge to turn to look at him. We broke up. Quit staring at me. If Clay noticed, he didn’t mention who was staring at me. Justin and I talked a bit before I had to literally run to Physics. I turned around to wave to him and I caught sight of Monty standing at his locker, looking as cranky and pissed off as ever.

Between classes, I was minding my own business, going over some biology notes, when I felt a hand grab me and pull me into an empty classroom. “Jesus. Could give a girl some warning before you grab her.” I spoke into the darkness. The sound of the door locking set my body on edge.

“I had to talk to you.” Monty said.

“Really? You had to talk to me? And you thought grabbing me and pulling me into an empty classroom was the best way to go about that?”

“Would you have given me the time of day otherwise (Y/N)?”

I was silent for a moment. “Fair point. Now what do you want? I have class.”

“I want to know why you agreed to go out with Justin.”

“Maybe because it’s a free country Montgomery?”

“That’s the worst explanation you have ever given, and you know it.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. We aren’t together anymore. I am free to date whoever I want. You are too, if you ever decide to do that.”

“You broke up with me because you said I was reckless. And now you’re dating Justin fucking Foley.”

“I think he goes by Jensen now.”

“Who gives a damn? My point is, you left me because I’m reckless, and now you’re dating someone who is equally if not more reckless than me.”

“I fail to see how a recovering addict is more reckless than you.”

“You fail to… wow. I’m shocked we didn’t break up sooner.” Okay that stung.

“Thanks Monty. That was real nice of you.”

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So how did you mean it?”

“Not how it sounded. But (Y/N), tell me you realize that Justin is just using you to fill the time until Jessica gets bored of Alex again. Because we all know she will. Or until he decides to run away again.”

“Huh. I didn’t think you could make yourself seem like more of a dick than you already had. Yet, here we are. I have to go. I’m running late.”

He was silent as I pushed past him and left the room. More reckless? More reckless than beating kids up for no reason? More reckless than any of the other shit he has pulled in the last four years? How pissed in his Corn Pops this morning? I was angry but I couldn’t help but replay his last statement over and over in my head, you realize that Justin is just using you to fill the time until Jessica gets bored of Alex again. Because we all know she will. Or until he decides to run away again. I was so distracted in biology; I missed an entire section of notes.

By the time lunch had rolled around, I had convinced myself that Montgomery was just pissed off and trying to fuck with my head, since he wouldn’t and couldn’t actually hurt me in any other way. I sat with Justin and his friends at lunch. I watched as he laughed along with them and smiled to myself. His friends included me as much as they could, but I could tell it was a little strange for them, seeing him with someone other than Jess. It’s not like I wasn’t friends with them, but with dating Monty and being so close to him, it was hard for us to hang out. Not that he kept me from them or anything, there was just a distance. It was nice to have them again. I decided to pull out my sketchbook and doodle while my friends talked amongst themselves. It wasn’t long before I had given up on doodling and had begun to draw Justin. It was a side profile and it was quick, so it wasn’t the greatest thing I had ever drawn, but it was okay. I would do better later when I had more time.

**

A few weeks after our first date, Justin invited me home to meet his folks. I had met them before because I was friends with Clay and sort of friends with Justin, but this was different. I was meeting them as Justin’s girlfriend now. For some reason I was more nervous to meet them than I was to meet Monty’s parents. Probably because you knew his dad wouldn’t like you and his mom was never really a concern for you. I pulled up in front of the Jensen house and looked up at the front window. The curtains fell back into place, so I knew at least one of the family members was waiting for my arrival.

I knocked on the door and it was opened almost immediately. Justin was waiting on the other side and he pulled me in the door excitedly. “You’re early.” He commented as he pulled me into a hug.

“I noticed. Have you been waiting by the door all morning?” I asked.

“No, he made me sit and wait when he had to go to the bathroom or wanted snacks.” Clay called from the couch.

“Lies.” Justin called back.

“Not lies. Hi (Y/N).” Mr. Jensen said as he came into the living room.

“Hey Mr. Jensen. How are you and Mrs. Jensen?”

“We are good. How many times do we have to tell you, its Matt and Lainie?”

“I know, I know. Old habits die hard, is all.”

“You still like tacos?”

“Uh… yes. They are great.”

“Good, its taco night.”

“That’s great dad, we are going to my room now.” Justin exclaimed, taking my hand and leading me to the back door.

“Um, okay.” I said.

“It’s my room too.” Clay called after us.

“Welcome to my room.” Justin said as he opened the door with a dramatic flair of his arm.

“Justin, I’ve been in your room before.” I laughed as I shook my head.

“I know, but this is different. Oh, I told clay you wouldn’t sit on his bed, so you can sit on mine.”

“Okay.” I nodded and sat down. As I looked around, I noticed there was more stuff on the walls, “what do boys call the stuff on the walls?”

“Clay calls it putting shit up, I call it homing.”

“Like the pigeons?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” There was a bit of a lull in the conversation. We had never been alone like this before.

“Did you bring your sketchbook?”

I gave him a look.

“Sorry, dumb question. Of course, you brought it.”

“I did yes. Why?”

“Can I look at it?”

“Not yet. The deal was I get to draw you and you get to look at it.”

Justin looked at his watch, “dinner won’t be for a while yet.”

“You want me to draw you now?” I asked, my brow raising.

“I mean, yeah. Why not?” he shrugged. “Where do you want me?”

I looked around the room again, deciding on an ideal spot, “well, your bed has really good natural light. I’ll grab a bar stool and sit there.”

Justin nodded and walked over, as I went to get up, he placed his hand around my arm. I looked at him questioningly before he placed a sweet kiss on my lips. I blushed as he pulled away. I will never get used to that. We changed spots quickly and I pulled a stool over. After a few directions and some time spent positioning him properly, I set to work. A bit after I started, he began speaking, “I feel like I don’t know much about you (Y/N/N).”

“What do you mean?” I asked, somewhat distracted.

“You know all these things about me, but I don’t know much about you personally. I know we were kind of friends, but you don’t really talk about yourself.”

“There’s not much to know. It’s just me and my mom. She’s a nurse and worked a lot growing up. I learned how to be pretty self-sufficient.”

“What about your dad?” He asked, moving slightly to get more comfortable.

“Never knew him. He walked out shortly after I was born. They weren’t married, so there wasn’t much to divide up when he left. Mom said when they went to court, he agreed to pay child support but didn’t want to have to be involved. Judge wasn’t thrilled when they submitted the paperwork, but my mom and her lawyer agreed to it.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess, but I never knew any different. What about you?”

“Never knew mine either. No real story. Amber is an addict, so I don’t know much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“I had a goldfish when I was a kid. His name was Napoleon.”

“Napoleon the fish?”

“Yes. I wasn’t allowed to have a dog or anything because my mom worked so much. And so, I gave my fish a weird name.” He made an impressed sound and face.

I had gotten about half the drawing done before clay knocked on the door and opened it with his eyes covered, “Dad says dinner is ready.”

“You can open your eyes, you squeamish child.” Justin chided.

“Nope. No I’m good.”

“We will be right in.” Clay nodded in response before backing out and closing the door firmly again. I closed the book and hopped out of my seat, placing my book on the counter.

“Can I see it?” Justin asked, beckoning me over.

“Not yet. It’s not done yet.” I told him. I walked over slowly, “dinner?”

“In a minute,” he started as he took my hand and pulled me down towards him, “have something to do first.” I smiled brightly at him as he pulled me down into a kiss, straddling his lap. A moment later, I pulled away and sat back.

“As much as I would like to continue this, your dad said you were having tacos.”

He sighed, nodding, “I know. We can continue this later.”

I stood up and smirked at him. Yes we can. I walked to the door and he smacked my ass playfully. I gave him an exaggerated shocked look and he grabbed my hand as we walked through the yard to the main house.

Dinner was fun and less awkward than I expected. I had gone over many times to hang out with Clay but going over as their son’s girlfriend was different. Matt and Lainie couldn’t ask me too much because they knew a lot about me. Tacos are always a fun food for company, and Justin made fun of my topping choice playfully. Clay overfilled his and it fell apart in his hands, drawing laughs from the table. It was nowhere near as bad as I expected. I couldn’t help but compare it to the awkward dinners I would have when Monty came over for at first and my mom wasn’t sure where she stood on the idea of him. I had always refused dinner with his family, so I didn’t need to hold my tongue around his dad for too long, which he never objected to.

Once dinner was over and it was time to go, I ran back to the boy’s room and grabbed my sketchbook. It’s not that I don’t trust Justin not to look… but I don’t trust Justin not to look.Justin and I said our goodbyes much quicker than we did that first night and I texted him when I got home to let him know I was safe. The following day at school, I was surprised to find Justin waiting at my locker with a muffin.

“Stopped by work on the way this morning and picked this up for you.” I smiled and kissed his cheek as I took it, biting into the fresh baked good. A very NSFW moan left my throat before I could stop it. I looked at Justin with wide eyes and a bright red face. He looked like he was trying to talk himself out of either laughing or dragging me to my car and driving to my place, education be damned. I looked down, embarrassed, waiting for the cheeky comment. When none came, I looked up at him through my lashes. I kind of miss the stupid innuendos. He was smiling wide and though he wasn’t looking directly at me, but you wouldn’t be able to tell unless you were as close to him as I was. I heard her laugh before I saw her. Jessica was walking towards us, laughing at a joke or something Alex had said. Montgomery’s words played in my head again you realize that Justin is just using you to fill the time until Jessica gets bored of Alex again, causing me to shake my head slightly to clear it. Get out of my head. You’re just jumping to conclusions (Y/N). Nothing is going on with them. Ignoring the possibilities in my head, I let Justin walk me to class. By the end of the day, any thoughts of Justin and Jessica were out of my head.  

**

Justin and I had grown closer over the past couple of months than I thought I would ever get to another person ever again. We talked about everything. Our hopes and dreams. We shared our biggest fears and most pointless phobias. He told me about what it was like when he left and how Clay had saved him. I knew he was leaving some stuff out, but I was too. Neither of us were going to pry. I told him about the time I had gotten curious and looked into finding my dad. I explained how any lead I could come up with came up dry and whenever I felt like I was getting close, something would happen to make it slip through my fingers. We talked about our favourite things and the things we couldn’t stand. It was everything a relationship should be. Then why do I feel like there is something missing? I continued to avoid Montgomery as much as I could, lest he try and give me more crap about my relationship.

On one of the rare nights it rained in our area of California, Justin opened up to me about his addiction. We were in my room and I was working on another portrait of him. He explained to me how he had started it as a way to escape the reality that he had left everything he had ever known and how it had quickly snowballed from there. He told me about detoxing at Clay’s and how the Jensen’s went out of their way to make him feel welcome in their home. He told me about relapsing and how even though they weren’t as close as they had once been, Bryce Walker had been the one to help when he got into a bind with Seth. I asked him about what happened, but he wouldn’t elaborate. He continued on and said that Bryce tried to help by giving him his old pills instead of the H he was using. I asked him about rehab and was not surprised when he said it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. “It’s still a struggle, but I have people around me who I know I can lean on and go to. So that helps on the bad days.” I nodded at him, as I finished the drawing and turned it to show him. “Woah. That’s amazing. Probably the best one yet.” I smiled at him and carefully removed it from the book, giving it to him.

“Keep it.”

A week or so later, everything changed. I walked to class the long way since the rain the past few days had stopped this morning during class. As I walked past the locker room, I heard voices that sounded suspiciously like Justin and Jessica. They seemed to be getting closer to the door and I quickly hid in an alcove. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this to Alex, Justin.” Jess said, as he opened the door for her.

“I know. (Y/N) is a really sweet girl. I just can’t get you out of my head.”

“She really is. I’ll see you after your shift tonight?”

“Yeah, Clay is going out with the new girl.”

“Great. I can’t wait.” Justin looked around to make sure no one was watching, no one he could see anyway, before he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. I gasped quietly and quickly covered my mouth. They didn’t seem to notice. As they walked away, I noticed how disheveled his shirt looked. That jerk. Oh… Monty was right. I’m such an idiot. When I was sure they were gone, I snuck out of my hiding spot and ran to class. I’ll deal with this at lunch.

Lunch came sooner than I wanted, since I had again, gotten distracted in biology. Justin was waiting for me at the entrance to the cafeteria. I ignored him as I walked up to Monty and his friends. He was mid-bite into a sandwich. “Incoming Monty.” Bryce warned. He ignored him. I tapped him on the shoulder lightly, and he finished his bite before turning to me.

“Hey, (Y/N).” he greeted, slightly confused as we hadn’t spoken since he had dragged me into a classroom a couple of months ago.

“You were right.” I spoke quietly, so only he could hear me. His brow furrowed until he looked up and saw Justin walking towards me. His face went from confused to understanding.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?” Justin asked, behind me.

“I don’t know Justin, why don’t you ask Jessica?” I asked, turning to him.

“Shit. She’s mad.” Scott said. I hummed in response. Justin looked like a deer in the headlights. Before anyone could stop me, I slapped Justin across the face, drawing ‘oooo’s and ‘ahhh’s from the surrounding tables. Calmly, I picked up my bag and walked away. I didn’t walk to a table where my friends sat. I didn’t share a look with Jess or Alex. Alex is smart. He will figure it out. Instead, I walked straight out to my car and drove home.

I spent the afternoon and evening in my room, alternating between crying and trying in vain to get the image of Justin kissing Jessica out of my head. My mom was working a forty-eight-hour shift at the hospital, so I had the house to myself. I had finally started to fall asleep when I heard a familiar sound. It sounded like pebbles hitting my window. Monty. I got up and opened the window.

“Monty? It’s like… one in the morning. What are you doing here?” I whisper called down to him.

“I thought you could use some company. I brought your favourite ice cream. You get any better at catching things in the last four months?”

“I was never that bad.” I called down to him as he threw the container up to me.

“Okay sweetheart. We will go with that.” He joked as he climbed up the lattice work along the side of my house. After he was up and, in my bedroom, I decided to let him know I was home alone.

“You could have used the front door. My mom is at work.”

“Now you tell me.” he rolled his eyes playfully as he stood up and enveloped me in a hug. This feels nice. I directed him to sit in my bed as I ran to get a couple of spoons from the kitchen. We had shared enough ice cream and… other kinds of DNA to not need to worry about bowls anymore. By the time I got back, he had made himself comfortable on his side of the bed, leaving my spot open for me. We ate in silence for a while before he spoke again. “I’m sorry I was right.”

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

“No, you don’t. At the time I was just saying it to be an ass. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. You were right. He is reckless and it wasn’t fair to break up with you because of your recklessness, and then start dating him. I hurt you and I’m sorry Monty.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N). But there is one thing you can do if you want to make it up to me.”

“What?”

“Switch pillows with me. This one is all lumpy.”

I laughed at him as I switched pillows before cuddling up close to him. “Hey Montgomery?”

“Yes (Y/N)?”

“How would you feel about breakfast in the morning. Like out somewhere.”

“You mean like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

“I think that would be some of the best breakfast I’d have in a long time.” We were quiet for a while before he spoke again, “(Y/N/N)?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you want me to talk to Justin?”

“Do you mean talk to him or talk to him?”

“Just talk.”

“No, you don’t have to. I think he got the picture this afternoon. Thank you though.”

Monty and I spent the rest of the night talking and had a delicious breakfast at Rosie’s. He drove me home and came in to say hello to my mom. It wasn’t the perfect morning or the perfect new beginning, but nothing about our relationship ever was.

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

GAUCHE | RENJUN

Content: Fluff, School au

Summary: Getting a job at Seoul Metropolitan Library was a way for you to break out of your routines, you didn’t know that humming just a little too loudly in a three floored library could get you to meet your next boyfriend.

Note: Tell me if you want another part + the places written in this one shot were searched up and are real, the exact location is inaccurate.

Warning: I use British spelling.

ONE-SHOT

[3:59 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 20 2020

I hummed excitedly as I glided into the three-floored library beside our university. Guess who got a part time job? Yes, me! I greeted the woman up front who gave me a little grin back, it was halfhearted but that didn’t matter much, I was finally going to get to do something apart from sitting in my room and shoving my nose into my laptop.

“You’ll end in two hours, your first job is to dust off the shelves on the second floor” the woman said whilst handing me a full black duster. Pretty fancy not gonna lie. “Got you” I pulled it off her grip as we exited the locker room, where I placed my bag.

As I walked up the stairs, I realised that maybe saying “Got you” was a little unprofessional. Making mistakes on your first day will always be a time to remember, I shrugged it off then approaching the first shelf in sight. The shelves were wooden but it was the fancy type of wood, this one shined.

There were also different coloured sofas and bean bags all around the place. That’s when I realised that the woman didn’t even give me a tour! Rude! I scowled but continued to wipe the dust off. It was a calm time for me, casually humming, performing little sways here and there, besides there wasn’t anyone on the second floor...I thought.

“You should hum quieter” The voice was calm and monotone but there was a hint of annoyance in it. I halted and turned my head, feeling the presence behind me. It was a guy around my age, I think I’ve seen him exiting the art block before. He wore a white hoodie and washed denim pants.

He carried a sketchbook in his arm and held the strap of his gray bag in the other. “I’m sorry” I gave him a little grin as an extra sprinkle of sincerity to my apology but he ignored it and walked away. “Jerk” I whispered under my breath, not enough for him to hear.

____

[4:30 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 21 2020

Today’s my second day of work and my new job is to scan books that are being borrowed. Apparently, around 30 books are borrowed and brought back everyday. On exam, project and holiday seasons, it goes up to 80. Well, this was beside a university anyway.

I sat there excitedly, the scanner just a perfect centimetre away from me. I might have a really cute guy come up and borrow a book and maybe ask for my number! The thought made me excited and I couldn’t help but fantasise about it even more. “Excuse me, stop daydreaming” my thoughts were cut off and a brief second of worry filled my mind.

In front of me was the same guy from yesterday, this time in a plain black shirt and gray sweatpants. Did he look good? Yes, Was he here to borrow a book? Yes, Would I have a crush on him if he wasn’t a jerk? Yes, but was he a jerk? Totally.

I pulled the book off his grip and placed it’s bar code in front of the scanner, after the little beep, I gave it back. “Write your name here” I nudged the white piece of paper to him and I watched as he calmly filled in the blanks.

——

[8:05 am] Yonsei University, July 22 2020

Surprise! No work for today but as usual, there’s school. I pouted tiredly as I dropped my science book down the gray table. Today’s lecture is for applied science. The reason why I’ve always had my nose stuck in my books and laptop was because I was studying.

I honestly enjoyed it, the tiring nights and the good grades you get back right after. It gives me a sense of achievement, like my purpose for the day has been fulfilled. I was already five minutes late but as usual, my teacher is completely non-existent; or would walk in with a cup of coffee in, three, two, one.

“Good morning class” the sound of her heels hitting the hard floor made me sit up, getting ready for whatever topic she’s going to talk about. “As you all may know, today the term gets cut so some students change subjects and I highly advise you not to do the same. Let’s welcome our new students!”

She signalled them to come in and I honestly expected dozens because applied science was pretty popular here but instead, only two entered.

A pretty girl with a classic dress, looking like she was going to ace every single test given and a guy, wearing a half-way buttoned up white shirt and black pants. His figure was way too familiar and I figured that I may know him, so I squinted my eyes a little tighter ‘cause I have shit eyesight and there he was. The same guy from the library.

_____

[4:00 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 23 2020

“You’ll be working with someone new today and since you’ve done well adjusting to this new environment, you can give HIM a tour”

Him? It’s a guy? My eyes followed the senior librarian’s pointed finger and there he stood before me.

“I’m not saying it’s kinda creepy that you’re everywhere but it’s fucking creepy that you’re everywhere” I said to him, placing my hands on my hips with furrowed brows, shamelessly showing suspicion to his actions. “Oh please, it’s not like you’re attractive enough for me to stalk” he scowled at me.

“Well first of all, I’m one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met and boy, you can’t deny it” I did an invisible hair flick because my hair was in a bun. “You wish” he uttered and the librarian shook her head at us. “It’s his first day stop bickering” those were the last word’s she said before walking away.

_______

[4:29 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 30 2020

It’s been a week since I’ve been working with him, we’ve not made much interaction considering the fact that ever since his first day he’s been labelled as my enemy. I continued dusting off the shelves while he dusted the ones beside mine (with our fancy black dusters) but that’s not the point.

“Excuse me?” A soft, small and high voice alerted me. I turned my head to the side and saw this pretty girl holding a book and pointing towards it, she was asking Renjun a question, yes now I know his name. “Where can I find the second book to this?” She asked and I briefly saw Renjun point somewhere before I looked away and continued dusting the shelf.

At least she could get a nice Renjun, all I get is a glaring bitch and I’d have to deal with it for the next ten weeks. The girl walked away and I felt his gaze on me.

“Are you jealous?”

“What?” I halted and gave him the biggest offended face ever. “Why would I be jealous?” I asked and he smirked. “You looked...annoyed” he replied slowly, in a teasing manner and I rolled my eyes.

“How’d you see? Were you watching me?”

I said in a-matter-of-fact tone and he snorted. Let me give this bitch a lesson, I thought to myself, placing my hands on my hips and getting ready to give him the hottest bars.

“I know I’m cute—“ I started and he cut me off.

“Yeah, I know you look cute”

Did he just—? My brows furrowed and a mischievous thought entered my mind. I’m totally teasing him for this.

“...So you agree?” I asked, a smirk crawling up my lips.

“Yeah—” he started “—maybe I do”

[ghosttotheparty]

cotton candy skies always look better in person

8. also on AO3 chapter seven

The way he said it in the text, you’d think Lucas has only drawn Jens once, but the truth is, he’s drawn him several times. Not that he’d tell him that, of course.

There’s a doodle from the cafe, and the one he did before he tossed the napkin, which was too wrinkled for his liking. There’s also the sketches of Jens copied from photos Lucas has of him, one of Jens’s silhouette against the sky, one of Jens smiling bashfully, one of Jens pretending to pose like a model. (Lucas had said, “Oh, perfect, you should try for Vogue.”) He’s also added some of his own touches to some of them, colouring Jens with abstract colours, lightly tracing music notes around his head like a crown, drawing sunflowers and daisies and roses around him.

Again, not that he’s ever planning on Jens, or anyone for that matter, ever seeing them.

Every sheet that he draws Jens on, every sheet that ends up covered in little sketches of him, is ripped out of his sketchbook and folded before being placed between the pages of his dictionary on his desk (which he really doesn’t even know why he has; he’s never used it for anything except storing secret drawing).

As he places the dictionary back on his desk, his door swings open and a head pops in, scanning the room until his cousin’s eyes land on him.

“Milan!” Lucas says, exasperated. “What did we say about knocking?”

“Sorry,” Milan says, clearly not. “Uh, I have some friends coming by. They should be here in a bit if you want to meet them before your daily jaunt.”

“Jaunt…” Lucas whispers to himself as he slides the book in all the way. “Yeah, sure.” He turns to face Milan and sees that he’s holding himself up as he leans into the room, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the knob.

“Cool! I’ve got one friend, I think you’ll like him, he’s an artist too.” He’s speaking rapidly, visibly excited. “He did the uh… You know what, I’ll let him tell you.” Before Lucas can respond, Milan is gone, the door shut behind him.

“Okay,” Lucas says after staring at the door for a second. He jumps on his bed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and throwing himself onto his back, the thud loud around the room. The room is quieter than usual, his window closed to keep the cold out, but keeping the city sounds out as well. He can only faintly hear cars outside, covered by the window and walls, and the hum of his heater. (And Milan singing loudly in the kitchen but Lucas ignores that.)

Bored, he opens his chat with Jens and scrolls up to read their past messages.

A message from Jens reads:

My grandpa’s visiting so I’ve locked myself in my room

When he first read it, Lucas had considered asking why he didn’t want to be with his grandpa, but decided against it, replying Sounds lonely. What are you doing? to which Jens responded with a photo. The picture is of his leg, wrapped in dark fabric and his foot covered with a canvas ballet shoe, propped up on a wooden bar attached to the wall. The message under it read This, homework, and playing guitar for my sister. At the time, Lucas had smiled, typing Nice, lame, sweet. But now he opens the picture, raising the brightness of the screen and zooming in to see how the muscles of Jens’s leg twist, to see the contours of his leg as Jens points his foot. He wonders if Jens would ever let him take a photo of him doing ballet. It would make a great anatomy study. But it might sound like… something else, Lucas realises, clicking out of the picture and dropping his phone as his face flushes.

He pushes himself up, grabbing his satchel from the floor next to his bed, and stands, putting his phone in his pocket again, making his way to his desk and grabbing a thick sketchbook and several pencils and small brushes, tucking them into the bag with a small watercolour palette. He stands back and scans his desk, scouring it for anything else he might need. He tosses in an eraser before closing the bag.

He hears the front door open and a boy’s voice call, “Hello?”

Milan yells back, “Robbe!” loudly, and Lucas opens his door, looking down the hall to see a brown-haired boy wearing a beanie greeting Milan, smiling as Milan pecks his cheeks. The boy, Robbe, Lucas assumes, steps through the threshold as Milan hugs the boy behind him, a tall boy with white hair. He steps past and follows Robbe to the living room, Robbe reaching behind himself to hold the boy’s hand. Another boy steps in, a boy with curly hair and a big smile, and hugs Milan before he’s pushed out of the way by another, a boy with brown skin and short hair. He’s pretending to cry as he and Milan embrace each other.

“I missed you so much,” the boy sobs and Milan laughs as the curly-haired boy shakes his head and follows Robbe to the living room.

“You know you can come to see me whenever right?”

“Oh, be careful with that,” the boy states, dropping the act, and he pulls back, pausing so Milan can kiss his cheek. “I might just move into Robbe’s room.”

“You’re too late, it’s taken.” Milan looks back, seeing Lucas, and nods, gesturing for him to come forward. “My cousin’s moved in.”

Lucas grabs his bag before moving into the hall, dropping it to the floor by the front door.

“Moyo,” the boy says, and Lucas shakes his hand.

“Lucas.”

“What are you doing outside? Come in,” Milan says, leaning out the door, speaking to someone Lucas can’t see, and Moyo steps to the side to watch Milan.

“Sorry, I’m texting my mom,” a familiar voice says, and somehow Lucas’s heart drops and flies at the same time. “How are you?”

Jens steps through the door, a hand on Milan’s shoulder, and kisses Milan’s cheek as Milan kisses his.

“I’m alright, sweetie.”

Jens tucks his phone into his pocket as Milan shuts the door behind him and looks at Lucas, his eyes widening as he does a short double-take, but before Lucas can greet him or smile, Jens is holding his hand out.

“I’m Jens.”

Lucas shakes his hand hesitantly and furrows his brow at him. Jens doesn’t respond, his face blank.

“Lucas.” He gives Jens a tight smile as Milan turns to them, and Jens smiles back, the look on his face, his demeanour, unfamiliar, and kind of unnerving. Jens lets go of his hand and steps past him, following Moyo.

“Cutie, isn’t he?” Milan asks, seeing Lucas’s eyes follow Jens.

“I— Yeah. Yeah, he’s pretty.”

“Sander, Lucas is an artist,” Milan says as they enter the living room, and the white-haired boy looks at him, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Robbe’s leg is strewn across his lap, and Sander’s hands run up and down it as Robbe tosses his arm around his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah?”

Lucas nods, glancing at Jens, who is sitting on the floor, and smiles.

“What do you do?” Sander asks.

“Uhm…”Lucas sits across from them on the floor. “Portraits, mostly.”

“Aren’t those really hard?” Moyo asks from his spot on the sofa.

“Eh, depends.” Lucas shrugs. “I also do some landscapes and stuff.”

“Have you ever done any live studies?” Sander asks.

“I’ve done, like, drawing people in front of me,” Lucas says. He can feel Jens watching him speak, and the air feels tight, tense, but none of the other guys seems to notice. “I’ve never done a nude study. I’d like to, though.”

“We do those at school sometimes, they’re fun.”

Lucas nods.

“You’ve probably seen one of Sander’s pieces, Lucas,” Milan says, and Lucas looks at Sander, confused. Sander is laughing softly, looking away, and Robbe pokes his cheek. The others are laughing, looking like they’re teasing Sander. Lucas can see Jens’s smile in his peripheral vision. “Sander, tell him!”

“Ahh…” Sander shakes his head, adjusting his seat on the sofa. “You’ve been down by the canal right?” Lucas nods. “You know that...giant mural of a face—” Robbe snickers next to him, “—it kinda looks like it’s coming out of the wall?”

Lucas thinks for a second before he remembers it, a mural of a boy’s face, breaking through the brick wall, the break shaped like a heart. He remembers staring at it for a while, wondering about the story behind it.

“No fucking way.” Lucas’s jaw drops as he smiles, and Sander nods, grinning bashfully. “That was you?”

“That was him,” Robbe says fondly, leaning over and kissing Sander’s pink cheek.

“Oh!” Lucas looks at Robbe’s face, really looking at him for the first time. “Oh, shit!” He points at him, realisation dawning on his face. “It’s you! I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Sander says as the boys all laugh. “My model.” He pats Robbe’s leg and Robbe gives him a look.

Lucas catches Jens glancing in his direction at the words, but ignores him. He zones out for a second, his eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him, the awkwardness between him and Jens becoming overwhelming.

“Do you guys want anything?” he says, accidentally interrupting Moyo. “Water, beer? I think we have cola?” He looks at Milan for confirmation and Milan nods.

“Can I have a cola?” Sander asks, and Lucas sees that his and Robbe’s legs are now tangled, Sander’s arm around Robbe’s waist nearly pulling him into his lap.

“Beer,” Robbe says, looking at Lucas as he stands, looking ta Moyo.

“Same.”

“Aaron?” Milan asks, and the curly-haired boy looks up from his phone.

“Uh, beer. Thanks.” He shoots Lucas a smile, and Lucas looks to Jens, trying to act normal.

“Oh, I can help you carry everything.” Jens uses the coffee table to push himself up and Lucas nods, turning to the kitchen.

“What about me?” Milan says behind him.

“You live here, I’m not hosting you.”

The door shuts behind him and Jens, drowning out the boys’ snickering and Lucas can feel Jens’s eyes on him. He ignores him, going to the fridge and pulling out a soda can and a beer, setting them on the counter before reaching in again. He doesn’t plan on talking to Jens. After all, they’re strangers now.

“Lucas.” Jens’s voice is low and rough.

And just like that, Lucas’s vow snaps like a taut rubber band.

“Is there a reason we suddenly don’t know each other?” he says, his back to Jens as he pulls out another beer.

“Look, I don’t…” Jens trails off and sighs. Lucas pulls out two more beers and slams the fridge shut, turning around. His lips press together as he looks at Jens, raising his eyebrows and tilting his chin slightly. They stare at each other for a second and Jens’s shoulders drop, looking across the room at Lucas but looking like he’s looking up at him.

“Why don’t I know you?’ Lucas asks, and Jens doesn’t answer.

Sudden anger flares in Lucas and he looks away, tossing his hands.

“Whatever, Jens,” he says, resigned, and he turns to pick up the can and bottles on the counter, managing to pick up the bottle opener next to them, before turning back to Jens and stepping forward. He shoves a bottle into Jens’s hand, and apparently, no matter how angry Lucas is, Jens’s touch still brings sparks, because their fingers brush and Lucas nearly jerks his hand away, feeling like he’s been electrocuted.

“Lu, just—”

Lucas’s heart flutters at the nickname, and he pulls the kitchen door open, stepping into the living room.

“—to Noor?” Aaron’s voice says.

“We’re friends.” Moyo sounds exasperated, and all the guys hum, cocking their heads at him.

“Are you dure?” Milan says as Lucas leans in front of him, handing Sander the can and Robbe a bottle.

“I’m out,” Lucas says, nodding as Moyo says “Thanks,” after taking a bottle and the opener from Lucas’s hand. “I’m gonna try and paint before it rains.”

Jens takes his place on the floor, reaching up as Moyo passes him the bottle opener.

“Ooh, have fun,” Sander says, wincing as the can cracks open.

Lucas forces a smile and waves to them, leaving the room, not looking back. He snatches his bag from the ground and his jacket from the hook on the wall, and then swings the door open, calling “It was nice meeting you!” He gets a small round of “Bye!” in response.

If he had looked back while leaving the room, he would have seen Jens’s eyes following him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

[ayellowcurtain]

could you write something about sander maybe not taking his medication for a couple days and then ending up manic and anxious one night and then him needing to ask robbe for help with making sure he takes his medication everyday

Can you do a sobbe fic where Robbe is ace and because of this he’s hesitant with entering a relationship because he knows that most guys are only in it for the sex

Robbe knew this was going to happen. He held back for as long as possible, but he couldn’t anymore and he wanted to tell Sander so badly. Robbe never felt the need to tell anyone except for him, Sander. He wanted to see his reaction and to know what Sander had to say. He’s so interesting, Robbe could hear him talk for days, about any subject.

And he didn’t react badly, he seemed surprised, but not bothered and for that whole afternoon, Robbe let himself dream that maybe they could work. But then Sander was gone for a day, two, and for over a week Robbe didn’t hear from him. He tried texting, calling, he even went to Sander’s college, but he couldn’t find him.

He settled after desperately searching, thinking he was going too far, invading Sander’s privacy. He needed to accept that it wasn’t ok for Sander that he was ace. Robbe didn’t want to be forced to do anything he didn’t want to do and so Sander had every right too if he wasn’t ok with Robbe being ace.

Finally it was Friday and Robbe had let himself rush home, planning on spending his whole day crying his eyes out, wishing he wasn’t like this or that he was accepted by the guy he was falling in love with. His mom wasn’t home and so Robbe dropped his bag on the floor with his sneakers, planning on dealing with that later. He pulled every layer of clothes all at once over his head and when he was about to take his pants off and hide underneath the covers, his phone started ringing.

He thought about ignoring it, but his eyes had already read who was calling and he couldn’t. Sander’s name and photo were there, looking at him, like it was him, begging Robbe to pick up and he couldn’t say no to Sander.

“Hello?” Robbe sounded broken and he wish he didn’t, but then a different voice came from the other side.

“Robbe? Hm, I’m sorry, I don’t know if I’m calling the right number. My name is Liv, I’m Sander’s mom. He’s...he’s been struggling these past few days. He won’t stop drawing and I tried asking who was the boy, but he’s not really talking right now, but I saw your name on some of his drawings and then I found your number. I don’t know what else to do, I can’t reach him.”

“What happened?” Robbe stops in the middle of his bedroom, not knowing what to do, but Liv sounds desperate.

“Can you come here? I think it would be really nice if he saw you, maybe it can help. I’m so sorry, this is still very new to all of us, I’m just trying anything to see what works.” She sounds like his mom, so worried and probably silently crying, desperate.

“Yeah, yeah. But...I don’t have the adress...” Robbe covers his face with his hand, so ashamed, but not even knowing why. She’s asking him to go there, but it still feels weird. Maybe Sander doesn’t want him there and everything will be just weird and painful.

-

Robbe never met anyone’s parents before, not like this at least, someone that he had something with for a month or two.

“Do you want something to drink? Have you eaten anything?” Liv walks with him inside the big kitchen, with probably the latest home appliances, marble as counters. It’s as fancy as it can get, but it feels messy. The island is filled with bag with groceries, the trash can is overflowing, Liv has been crying, clearly, but Robbe doesn’t comment on anything, shakes his head and she smiles sadly at him.

“Thank you for coming, Robbe. Is your name Robbe? I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask...”

“Hm, no, Robin, but everyone calls me Robbe, it’s okay.” She smiles a little more honestly this time and Robbe tries to smile back. He’s anxious, wants to see with his own eyes what’s going on with Sander.

“Thank you for coming then, Robbe. Sander is still locked inside his bedroom. He tends to...close himself off when this episodes happen. He can get more impatient so we just tend to let him be. And come to us if he needs anything, but it’s been days and whenever he’s awake, he’s drawing...you.”

Robbe blushes, looking down, hiding how he close his hands inside his pockets.

“Sander is an amazing artist.” She tries to make this more comfortable again and Robbe smiles. Sander really is amazing. “Anyway, come.” The way she says it reminds him so much of Sander. Robbe follows her down the hall, both walls filled with pictures of them. Liv, Sander and his dad, probably.

Robbe never saw him with his natural hair, light brown, Robbe tries to save that information. Sander was always the most good looking ever, Robbe is sure of it now.

Liv knocks gently on the first door on their left.

“Sander?” No response, but she opens the door slowly anyway. “There’s someone here that wants to see you.”

Robbe doesn’t see, but he hears a noise that sounds like blankets being moved. Liv moves to the side and leaves enough space and Robbe obeys, slowly stopping at the door, finally seeing Sander.

Red eyes, messy platinum hair with dark roots sticking out of the dark grey hoodie Sander is wearing. He looks tired and so fragile.

“I’m gonna leave you two alone...” He hears Liv behind him and he has to walk inside so he can close the door behind him.

Sander doesn’t believe Robbe is there, he’s frowning a little and with a hint of spark in his eyes, but it fades away when he blinks, putting the blanket over his shoulders and lying back down.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Sander says painfully and Robbe comes closer, carefully sitting on the bed in the small circle around Sander’s torso, kissing Sander’s arm and looking up, resting his chin against his shoulder.

“Why not? I care about you.” Sander closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath in. Robbe sits up, afraid that he got too close, too fast.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m not good enough for you.”

“What? Don’t say that.”

“I’m really not. I’m so fucking dumb. I didn’t know what to do and so I just decided to stay away. Not because of you, because I’m so not worthy of you, Robbe. The way you care about others, about your mom, how soft and calm you are, and smart and gentle. I’m not like that. And I don’t know if I can be. I’m like a car going faster than the limit with no breaks.”

Robbe frowns, completely lost now. Sander didn’t even mention what they talked the last time they saw each other. And Robbe has no idea where all this is coming from.

Sander finally moves and Robbe gives him enough space to sit on his bed, looking down to avoid meeting Robbe’s eyes. There’s a sketchbook on his nightstand, a bunch of pages ripped and shoved back inside carelessly. Robbe wants to see, for Sander to explain to him all his drawings.

“Can you help me?” Sander finally looks up to meet Robbe’s eyes, he fix his postures and raises his eyebrows and starts talking, like he’s quickly trying to explain explain “I keep thinking I don’t need my medication when I’m feeling good. And I feel good when I’m with you, so I keep forgetting that this...this won’t go away. I need to take better care of myself.”

Robbe doesn’t know what he’s promising, but he can’t risk lose Sander and so he’s willing to try. “I can help you, if you want. Can even make a notebook to write the times you need to take what...”

Robbe sees when Sander bites the inside of his cheek, his mouth trying to contain a smile.

-

Robbe picks a hardcover black notebook that can easily fit inside any bag he owns. He picks cute, colorful pens and some fun tapes with space themes, starts, lightnings, the moon, the sun, planets, etc. Sander will tease him forever about it, but Robbe can’t wait. He only needs a few lines to write the times and what medication Sander should take, when he has therapy or his medical appointments and so he’s always facing half of a completely blank page.

When Sander is asleep or busy with his appointments, Robbe sits there, taking the empty pages as a challenge.

This isn’t about you. It’s to help him. Don’t make this about yourself.

Robbe taps with his pen for a while, thinking. He decides to start with Sander constant need to create. The words come out easily, Robbe could talk about how amazing Sander is at creating anything. From drawings to stories, stopping in some stupid music lyrics he invents every once in a while.