#and will be a Major Character in the all eyes on me au *wink wink nudge nudge*

[cheollipop]

⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 6.5k

genre: mafia au, smut, mutual pining, some fluff, tiny bit of angst, some dark themes, slightly ambiguous ending

In a city where the mere whisper of his name sent shivers of terror through its core, Choi San's barbarous reputation proved powerless to dissuade you from delving deeper, the glint in the feline eyes cast upon you exposing a sliver tenderness hidden beneath the façade of bloodlust.

⚜ warnings: mentioned death/murder (no one significant), insensitivity from all major characters to said murder, san is lowkey psychotic, and an asshole, reader is a badass bitch, gun play (kinda?), service/soft dom!san, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (👎), kinda public sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, creampie, begging, praise, some cockwarming, san gets whiny, he is whipped your honour, not your typical mafia boss ehehe, nicknames (baby, darling; sannie), I believe that's it. ^^

⚜ A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent. who doesn't want a psychotic mafia boss obsessing over their very being? happy reading! ^_^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.

The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.

“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.

“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.

The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”

San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.

“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.

“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.

Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.

“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”

San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”

--

Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.

“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.

“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”

His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.

While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.

“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.

“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”

“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”

“—Looking for me?”

A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.

“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.

Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”

The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.

The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”

To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”

His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”

He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.

Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.

To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.

But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.

“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”

Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.

Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”

The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”

Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.

“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.

He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”

Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.

If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.

The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”

You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”

Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”

“Not when you look at me the way you do.”

A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.

Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.

His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”

San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.

“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”

The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.

Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”

With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.

He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.

“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.

The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.

Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of  a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.

Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.

If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.

“How about you be good and fuck me already?”

Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”

Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”

The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.

“Call me by my name.”

It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”

To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”

He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.

“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”

You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,

“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”

San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.

“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.

He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.

He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”

You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off him, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.

“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”

San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.

“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.

San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”

It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,

“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”

You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.

An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”

The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.

“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”

That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.

You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.

You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”

Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silent through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.

San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.

As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.

Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.

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[ichorai]

broken machine ; miles morales.

track four of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; miles morales x mutant!gn!reader

synopsis ; stuck in a time loop, miles had to witness the one thing that he dreaded the most in life over and over again: your death.

words ; 5.1k

themes ; angst, action, mild fluff, mutant au, time loop au, established relationship au

warnings / includes ; repeated major character death, descriptions of injury/blood, cursing, two brief mentions of sex, wolverine & omega red & doctor strange cameos, mentions of x-men & daredevil & wong, set in an alternature universe from the mcu, miles throws up at one point, one (1) reference to spider-man: nwh wink wonk, miles' parents are adorable and i love them

main masterlist.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE ONE.

Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 

“Miles,” barked his dad. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Miles groaned into his pillow, propping himself up with his elbow and glaring at the closed door. 

Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 

With a muffled yawn, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. 

The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay, and kissed her cheek apologetically when she scolded him for not taking out the trash like she’d asked the day before. His dad was scarfing down the steaming quesadillas by the small kitchen table, eyes scanning over the day’s newspaper. 

“All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court. 

Miles could feel his stomach twist at his dad’s words, but he pushed it down.

“Miles, come sit down and eat,” said his mom, urging him to the table.

With an apologetic grimace, Miles replied, “Sorry, ma, I gotta meet Y/N at the diner—I promised breakfast with them today. I’ll be back before dinner, okay?” 

“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, straightening the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”

“Okay, okay, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, clearly flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner. 

Knowing you, you were probably already waiting at the diner, halfway done with your milkshake.

Correction, you were well into your second milkshake by the time Miles jogged in.

“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. “I ordered for you.”

“Bacon cheeseburger with a side of curly fries? Lemonade with extra ice?” Miles asked, sliding into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace.

You cocked your head at him. “Yup. Extra ketchup on the side, too.”

“See, that’s just telling me we spend too much time together,” said Miles, affectionately kicking at your feet beneath the table. 

Scoffing, you popped a curly fry into your mouth. “You wouldn’t last two seconds without me.”

Before Miles could fit in a scathing remark, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running down the street. 

“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.

Miles bobbed his head, the light-hearted atmosphere disappearing in an instant. “In my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 

You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 

With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles darted into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 

The fight was about two blocks from the diner. He swung down onto a streetlamp, eyes widening when he caught sight of a bloodied Wolverine pinned against the asphalt—Omega Red not too far from him, his carbonadium coils wrapped around Logan’s biceps and neck. 

Wolverine let out a growl, his adamantium claws slashing out, but not long enough to reach his attacker. 

Miles shot a web out to get closer. Though he wasn’t all that close to the infamous Wolverine, Miles knew he was a halfway decent guy, and deserved a bit of help. 

Mid-air, he blasted web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles. One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 

“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.

It was too late.

Omega Red chuckled darkly as your blade of energy sunk into his abdomen with a sickly squelch. To Miles’ horror, he seemed practically unfazed by this. You snarled up at him when he wrapped one of his burly hands around your neck, the other coming up to lay over your skull. Miles scrambled forward, shouting your name, but Wolverine held him away, frantically telling him to stay back—something about deadly pheromones.

But Miles wasn’t listening. All he could see was you, and the final second of your expression shifting from determined rage, to raw fear.

A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy. 

A sick crack of bone as he effortlessly crushed your head in his palm.

A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.

Wolverine wouldn't let him go.

And then, it all went black.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE TWO.

Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 

“Miles,” the muffled voice of his dad drifted from beneath the doorway. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 

Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 

He immediately sat up on his bed, breathing heavy and labored. A tear fell down his cheek and Miles hurriedly wiped it away with the back of his palm.

“What the…?” he muttered beneath his breath, glancing at his phone to see that it was November seventh. 

Huh. So it must’ve all been a dream. Wolverine, that weird metal-tentacle dude, you dying…

It was all a dream.

Huffing out a sigh of relief, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. Funny, his dream-mom had made quesadillas as well.

The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay.

“Miles, I told you to take out the trash!” she scolded, crossing her arms expectantly.

For a second, Miles froze. This was… eerily similar to his dream.

Realizing that he had yet to reply, Miles hastily choked out, “Sorry, ma. I’ll take it out when I leave.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Diner. Meeting Y/N there for breakfast,” Miles responded. “I’ll be back before dinner, okay?”

From the small kitchen table, his dad glanced away from the day’s newspaper. “All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, before reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court.

Huh. Miles could swear his dad said the exact same thing in his dream…

“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, coming forward to straighten the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”

“Alright, alright, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner.

“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. Cupped in your hands was your second milkshake, already half-empty. “I ordered for you.”

“Thanks,” said Miles as he slid into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace. “Hey, something really weird happened this morning. It’s like—deja vu, but in my dream? Like everything I saw in my dream felt weirdly real and then when I woke up, the exact same things started to happen—”

Before he could continue explaining, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running.

This happened in my dream! thought Miles. Unless… unless it wasn’t a dream…

“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.

Miles opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

You blinked at him, miffed. “Miles? We gotta go help them.”

Head feeling stuffed full with cotton, Miles bobbed his head hesitantly. “It’s, uh, it’s in my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 

You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 

With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant before he could even begin to think to stop you, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles blew out a deep exhale and ran into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 

As soon as Miles saw Wolverine and Omega Red a couple blocks down the diner, he knew whatever he had seen in his quote-unquote ‘dream’ hadn’t actually been a dream. Maybe he was in an alternate dimension? Or could it have been time travel of some sorts?

Whatever it was, Miles had to find you.

He swung down onto the road, ready to stop you from getting too close to Omega Red. Swiftly, he shot out web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles.

One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 

“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.

Prepared, Miles pushed you out of the way, frantically yelling out, “Stay back, he’s got killer pheromones!”

But it was too late.

The long, spindly carbonadium cords darted forward and snaked around both of your ankles, sweeping you off your feet and dangling you upside down in a matter of seconds. Desperately, you tried to hack away at the metal with your energy blades. The determined snarl on your face began to wane into one of fear when it proved to be fruitless.

Omega Red grinned manically, eyeing you like a wolf would a hare. 

A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy.

Miles yelled out your name, but Wolverine held him back, telling him it was for his own safety. 

“They’re long gone, kid,” the X-Man gruffed, grip unrelenting. “I’m sorry.”

A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.

“Let me go!” he cried. It wasn’t a dream. None of this was a dream—it couldn’t be.

Wolverine wouldn't let him go, no matter how much Miles struggled.

And then, it all went black.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE THREE.

Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 

“Miles,” said his dad from the other side of the closed door. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 

He shot up from the bed, breathing ragged. 

Miles swiped at his watery eyes, burying his face into his palms. If that hadn’t been a dream… what was it?

Car honk. Pigeon hoot. The sun beamed directly into his tired eyes. Right. This was the third time he’d lived through today. He must’ve been stuck in a time loop of some sorts. 

But how was he supposed to get out?

Swallowing heavily, Miles slipped out of bed, changing out of his pajamas, and got ready for the day. He had to get to the diner.

The mouth-watering aroma of his mom’s quesadillas wafted from the kitchen. 

“Miles, come have breakfast!” she called out just as she noticed Miles pulling on his shoes, tilting her head. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Out. Diner. Y/N,” said Miles, rushing. “Sorry, ma. I’ll be back soon!”

“Wait—!” she exclaimed, but he was already dashing out the door and sprinting down the block.

You were just starting on your second milkshake, brows raising when Miles stumbled into the diner, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his haste.

“Hey, you’re not late for once!” you proclaimed, clearly amused at his haggard state. But your humored expression melted away when you saw that Miles was in no smiling mood. “What’s going on? God, Miles, you need to sit down.”

Blowing out a breath, Miles slid into the booth and began to explain. It was a terrible explanation, one that made no sense at all—but Miles was desperate and clearly not thinking straight.

“Right, so, I’ve been living today for the past two days. And I’ve seen you die before—twice! I wake up every time you die. It must be like, uh, like—”

“Miles,” you said, brows furrowed. “I’m so confused right now. You’ve seen me die? Like… like a vision or something?”

“No! Uhm, yes? Wait, no, I don’t think so, at least. I—”

Before he could finish, the loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Your concern skyrocketed, and you glanced out the window to see what was going on. Miles pulled at the skin of his face, frustrated. 

Civilians were screaming and running every which way like headless chickens. A woman with a baby stroller tripped over the curb and you sprang up to your feet, immediately breaking out of the diner to help her.

“Y/N, wait, you can’t go—!” exclaimed Miles, rushing out after you.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled under your breath as the both of you caught sight of Omega Red and Wolverine barreling down the street in their altercation.

With no time to change into your suit, you clenched your fist, purple energy blade crackling to life around your skin, mildly burning at the cuffs of your hoodie sleeves.

“No, Y/N, listen to me, you can’t go, you’ll die!” Miles exclaimed, grabbing your forearm to stop you.

Rounding on him with a heated gaze, you shook your head. “Miles, hundreds of people are going to die! That’s Omega Red. He can kill anyone in a close vicinity. I can’t just stand back and let him do it. I need to go help Logan.”

With that, you shoved away from him, leaving Miles to stumble after you. He cursed under his breath, shooting out his webs to swing after you.

Omega Red caught sight of the both of you from afar, the red of his eyes gleaming hungrily.

The carbonadium tentacles curled around Miles first, crushing his lungs until he struggled to breath and black dots danced about his vision. He could only helplessly watch as you dived down and slashed at his legs, but were dragged out by the other coil, lifting you up by your head as if you were a ragdoll. 

To his horror, Omega Red flung you hard across the street. So hard that you crashed clean through the windows of the opposite building, and straight into three consecutive plaster walls after that.

And then everything went dark.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FOUR.

“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 

Car. Pigeon. Sun.

Diner.

This time, Omega Red threw a car at you.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FIVE.

Quesadilla. Newspaper. Trash.

Diner.

Miles was helplessly pinned to the street as Omega Red used Wolverine’s adamantium claws to slice you to pieces.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SIX.

Running down the street. Your milkshake spilled all over the diner table. Miles frantically trying to tell you not to go out. He was so tired.

You went out anyway.

Omega Red picked you up and ripped you clean in half with his bare hands.

Bending at the stomach, Miles threw up all over the sidewalk.

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SEVEN.

Miles didn’t go to the diner this time. He stayed in bed, eyes unblinking and wide, his stomach roiling nauseously. 

“Miles!” came the muffled shriek of his mom. “Miles, it’s Y/N!”

Legs trembling, Miles stepped out of his room and slowly shuffled down the hall to see his mom and dad standing in front of the television. Rio’s eyes were quick to water, tears dripping down her cheek at the sight. His dad bowed his head and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

The news was on. 

It was you, being recorded on a shaky camera—barely visible behind Omega Red, with his burly hands wrapped around your throat as he squeezed, squeezed, squeezed—

NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE EIGHT.

Three quick knocks to his door.

“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 

Miles threw himself out of bed just as the car honked. He was so very tired, eyes bloodshot and limbs weary. But he couldn’t give up. 

Hastily, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas, he ran out of his room after grabbing his web shooters, barely acknowledging his baffled parents. He bolted out the door at lightning speed, using his shooters to hurl himself down the street, to the diner.

People gawked and stared at him with wide eyes. They all gawked and pointed fingers, exclaiming, “Hey, it’s knock-off Spider-Man!” 

Miles couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not wasting any time, he barged into the diner, making his way to your booth. Before you could fit in any comments about how he was late, or how he looked like he’d just gotten run over by a bulldozer, he grabbed you by the shoulders, looking you straight in the eye.

“Listen to me. I’ve been stuck in a time loop, watching you die over and over and over again. You cannot leave this diner, Y/N. I’m being serious. Omega Red is going to come rolling down the street any second now—but you can’t help in any way, no matter how much you want to, or you’ll die and it just resets the loop for me. I need to keep you alive. Do you understand?”

With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared at your boyfriend as if he’d gone mad. A part of you thought this was just some elaborate joke—but the longer you looked into his eyes—his tired, weary eyes, the more you could see how sincere he was being. He was telling the truth.

“Time loop… like groundhog day?” 

Miles nodded.

“Do you know how to fix it?”

Crestfallen, Miles blew out a shaky breath. “No. Every time you die, the day just resets and I wake up back in my room—your death is basically… inevitable.”

A sick feeling twisted in your gut. Not really at the fact that you were fated to die in this loop, but at the idea of Miles having to watch and relive that over and over again.

“Oh, Miles, I’m so sorry…” you began, unsure of what else to say. Eyes softening, Miles released your shoulders, sliding his hands down your arms to thread his fingers with yours. 

A tentative idea sprung forth when your friend and vigilante mentor, Daredevil, once mentioned in passing a certain sorcerer living in New York that specialized in all things time-related.

“I think I might know someone that can help,” you said, squeezing his hands with a hopeful grin.

The Sanctum Sanctorum was a large, spacious building that remained suspiciously clean despite having only two ‘cleaners’ that looked far younger than you—Wong liked to call them apprentices, though. You’d passed by the building before twice—but never actually had any reason to come inside.

For such an important place, you were surprised there weren’t any guards by the door. You and Miles exchanged nervous glances, before stepping in. 

Stephen Strange was by the fireplace to the right, nursing a mug of a thick purple liquid. Draped over his shoulders was the infamous red Cloak of Levitation, which seemed to perk upwards in the presence of guests.

“Y/N L/N,” he greeted, narrowing his eyes at you, as if he’d known you were going to come. “Miles Morales—what brings the two of you to the Sanctum Sanctorum?”

How the peculiar sorcerer knew your names, neither of you had a clue.

“Hello, uh… doctor, er, sir—uhm, I’m—I think I might be stuck in a time loop?” Heat flushed over Miles’ face as he stumbled over his words, clearly overwhelmed that he was standing in front of an Avenger.

One of Strange’s eyebrows arched closer to his hairline. “You think?”

Clearing his throat, Miles winced as he replied, “I know I’m in a time loop. I’ve been living the same day over and over again more than half a dozen times.”

The sorcerer tilted his head, free hand coming up to stroke his well-groomed goatee. “Yep… that’s a time loop, alright. I’ve been stuck in one before—nasty thing it is.” The unpleasant memory of Dormammu made a grimace pull his lips thin. With that, he began striding away, leaving the two of you awkwardly standing by the Sanctum's entrance. 

After a second, Strange glanced back, rolling his eyes. “Come on, what are you two standing there dilly-dallying for?”

The two of you scampered along behind him, making your way further into the large building. Down a winding staircase you went, one that seemed to go on for ages. You peered over the railings, blanching upon seeing nothing but darkness for as far as the eye could see. Nervous, you reached out for Miles’ hand, which he gladly took.

Once the three of you had arrived by the floor, torches by the walls magically burst aflame, bathing the room in a warm clementine glow.

“Something incredibly wrong must have messed up your stream of reality’s timeline for it to fall back upon itself. Something that isn’t supposed to happen. Usually time loops occur when alternate realities collide into one another, thereby permanently damaging both realities’ time continuum—but it can sometimes happen on its own to prevent incursions from occurring in the first place. Like a safety net of sorts. It’s the universe’s way of giving you a second chance. Or… seven, in your case,” explained Strange, waving his hand in front of the Eye of Agamotto that rested just above his chest. The golden platelets pulled back to reveal a glowing emerald gem—the infamous time stone. Most of what he said had flown right over your head, but you nodded as if you understood anyway. “What is it that resets the loop each time, kid?”

Miles shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling queasy. “Y/N dies,” he mumbled.

The sorcerer’s eyebrows twitched up in surprise. 

“Ah,” he said, his usually stoic demeanor melting into one of stiff, uncomfortable sympathy. “My condolences.”

“Thanks—uh, condolences… taken? Received? Yeah,” Miles awkwardly choked out. If it weren’t the dire situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at your boyfriend’s inability to just keep his mouth shut.

A glimmer of amusement danced behind Strange’s irises, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. 

“Alright, kid, I can fix it for you—just promise not to talk during the spell. You’re not the only person who’s come to me asking to make life-altering changes to the time continuum.”

Neither of you really knew what he was talking about, but you stiffly bobbed your heads up and down nonetheless. 

With that, Stephen clapped his hands together, chanting lowly underneath his breath. The time stone began to emit a bright, lime-hued light—one that nearly hurt if you stared directly at it. 

And then… it all stopped.

Strange stopped murmuring in his foreign tongue, the stone stopped glowing, and everything felt eerily still.

Confused, Miles asked, “That’s it?”

A ghost of a smile traced the corner of Doctor Strange’s lips. “Yeah, kid. That’s it. It should all be over now—you’ll wake up in the real tomorrow, tomorrow. Now get outta here—before Wong mistakes you guys for his apprentices.”

“Thank you, Doctor Strange. This means the world to us,” you said, genuine gratitude shining through your expression as you squeezed Miles’ hand.

“Yeah, thanks Mr—Doctor—Sir… uh…” Miles began stumbling over his own tongue again, and this time, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. Strange cracked an actual smile as well, jerking his head towards the staircase.

The two of you began walking back up the steps, a weight settled off both of your chests. Miles more so than you—having to watch you die over and over again had taken a serious toll on him.

In a blink of an eye, the stairs disappeared beneath your feet, and the two of you found yourself right outside the Sanctum. Bewildered, the two of you glanced back, only to see a golden-ringed portal just behind you. Strange saluted with two fingers, raising his mug to slurp at the mysterious mauve sludge within his mug. 

The portal closed a second later. 

You and Miles stood in a fragile silence for a long moment.

“Miles… what you had to go through… I’m so sorry, it must’ve been a living nightmare. I can’t possibly imagine what that’s like. Are you sure you’re okay? Because I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” you whispered, glancing his way. Your expression had softened with raw concern, practically bleeding with affection for the young man beside you.

Instead of answering your question, Miles just shook his head, tightly winding his arms around you and squeezing. His nose rested against the crown of your head as he inhaled the homely scent of your shampoo. After recovering from your initial shock, you returned the embrace, the fabric of his shirt crumpling beneath your grip. His shoulders began to tremble.

“Are you crying?” you asked when he sniffled quietly.

“No,” he replied, voice thick. “Doctor Strange just has… dusty magical carpets, is all.”

A peal of laughter fell from your lips, and you fondly knocked your forehead against his. “Careful now, wouldn’t want Wong to fire his ‘apprentices’ now, would you?”

Miles gave you a watery smile, before pulling away, holding you at arm’s length. “Can you stay with me tonight? I just… I don’t wanna lose you again. I wanna make sure I wake up in the real tomorrow—where you’d still be alive.”

Leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, you gave him a gentle grin. “Sure, Miles. Oh, we can watch the new season of Yellowjackets together!”

“Okay,” Miles said, watching you with a lovesick gaze as the two of you began walking down the street, one that made his dark irises all molten and doe-like. “Anything you want.”

NOVEMBER EIGHT.

Miles’ eyes cracked open blearily. A ray of sun was glaring through his window, shining directly into his face. From outside, he could hear cars honking and the flutter of a pigeons’ wings as it flew away from his windowsill.

Memories of yesterday—or rather—several yesterdays, came rushing to the front of his mind. Immediately, Miles sat up in bed, his foot accidentally knocking against the laptop sitting on top of his blanket.

Initial panic beginning to wane away, Miles looked to his side, relief flooding his veins upon seeing you splayed out on the other end of his bed, cheek smushed into his pillow as you slept. You groggily mumbled something unintelligible at his sudden movement, but slipped back into a peaceful sleep not two seconds later.

You startled back awake when Miles let out a sudden whoop of unrestrained joy, loud enough to alert his parents in the kitchen.

“Ugh, Miles,” you groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow. “Shut up.”

Wincing, Miles eased back into bed, patting your shoulder while whispering, “Sorry, sorry. Go back to sleep.”

He tugged you close into his side, finding solace in your warmth—a physical reminder that you were real. 

This was real.

Miles grinned into your hairline, and clutched you all the closer.

By the time his mom and dad peeked their heads into his room to check that you two were alright, they were not at all surprised to see the kids fast asleep, limbs tangled and softly snoring away, with Miles taking up most of the space while you were squished against the wall.

The door softly shut once more, and Rio casted an amused glance at her husband, who also had the habit of taking up too much space in bed. “Like father, like son.”

Affronted, Jefferson followed after his wife as she strode away, thinking she was talking about his loud unconscious mannerisms (snoring, and, on occasion, talking in his sleep). “What? What do you mean by that? I told you, I don’t snore! Not anymore, at least…”

[mrsstruggle]

The Lost Child - Bonus Chapter [Smut] // Derek Hale x Reader

Series Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It's fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: This chapter is just smut with a bit of fluff!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Words: 2.7k

Note: Part 2 of the Shadow Wolf series is coming soon! Read my latest update for all of the details.

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

[This is set when Derek and Y/N get home after the major fight at the end.]

 Y/N sighs in relief for the first time in a week. Derek locks the door behind them as they walk into their empty apartment. Kicking off their shoes next to the front door, they are both covered in dirt and dried blood, and their clothes are partially ripped from the fight.

“I think I might sleep for a week,” Y/N groans, flopping face-down on the couch. She’ll hate herself later when she has to clean the stains she’s making. Luckily all her wounds are closed, so any blood on her is old.

“I think I heard Stiles and Scott talking about coming over tomorrow, but I can hold them off if you want me to,” Derek replies. He throws his keys into the bowl on the table next to their front door.

Y/N huffs in frustration before turning her head so she’s no longer inhaling the seat of the couch, “Can’t they leave us alone for one day? I swear I haven’t had a single day alone since the others got here.”

“Oh, do I need to go get a hotel so you can have some alone time?” Derek teases.

“You know I don’t include you in that statement. Especially since the last time we were alone you were in a coma.”

“Well, we’re alone right now,” Derek smirks, looking down at her as he stands next to the couch, “and I’m no longer on the brink of death.”

Y/N sits up on the couch and lightly punches Derek in the arm, “Don’t joke about that!”

Derek laughs before sitting down next to her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pulling Y/N into his arms and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

Y/N doesn’t respond but cuddles into his embrace. She feels like she still hasn’t processed everything that has happened within the last week or so. Out of everything, the thing she can’t stop thinking about the most is almost losing Derek. She’s scared she’ll close her eyes and see her blood-covered hands again.

“You know I’m never going to leave you, right?” Derek asks. With his right arm wrapped around her, his hand starts to slowly run up and down her arm in a comforting manner.

“I know.”

“No matter what happens, I will always be here for you.”

Y/N groans, “Can we stop being so serious and cute and talk about something else?” She feels like the only conversations she’s had lately have been serious.

Derek smirks down at her, “What do you want to talk about then?”

Y/N looks up at him before peeling herself away from him and standing up from the couch. She walks toward the staircase leading up to the second. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she turns to look at Derek who is staring at her quizzically. She grabs the top of her pants and tugs them off along with her underwear. Still staring at Derek, she also tugs off her shirt and bra. She gives him a little smirk and a wink as he takes in her naked figure, “I think I’m going to go shower. Too bad I don’t have any to shower with.”

She smiles innocently as he gets up off the couch and walks over to her. His eyes linger over her body before locking onto her eyes, “I can think of someone who’d love to shower with you.”

“Yeah…make sure to let Parrish in when he gets here then.” She turns around and quickly runs up the stairs as Derek stands at the bottom in shock and disgust.

It takes Derek a moment to recover before running up the stairs behind Y/N, “You’re so going to pay for that.”

Y/N lets out a loud laugh as Derek grabs her by the waist and throws her down on their bed as they enter their bedroom. Lying on her back, Derek crawls between her legs and places harsh kisses up her body.

“I would still really like to shower,” Y/N giggles, her hands already running through Derek’s hair. Derek pulls away from her body before he reaches her face and walks toward their bathroom. “Wait, I didn’t say stop!”

She jumps a little when Derek’s shirt hits her in the face. Pulling the shirt off her face, she can see Derek stripping off the rest of his clothes through their open bathroom door. “Are you going to stare all day or are you going to come join me?”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she gets off their bed and walks to the bathroom. Derek’s back is turned to her as he turns on the shower. She slightly leans against the bathroom doorframe as she admires his muscular back and his muscular, yet plump, ass. She knows if he’d turn toward her she would be able to see his muscular chest, defined abs, and his long, hard dick.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Derek says, turning to look back at her with a smirk on his face as he checks the water temperature with his hand.

“Well maybe you if you didn’t look so good, I wouldn’t stare at you.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t stare at me if I didn’t look like this?”

“No, I’d definitely still stare at you.”

Derek slowly walks up to her, looking her up and down, “I’d have to lose my eyes to stop staring at you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Could you be any more cheesy? I don’t think Stiles would believe me if I told him some of the things you say to me.”

Derek grimaces as he pulls her into him, “Please don’t bring up your brother right now.”

“What?” Y/N playfully smiles at him as she wraps her arms around him. “Does it not turn you on even more?”

Derek’s frown deepens. His right hand moves from around her waist to give her a quick slap on the ass, “I’m serious.”

“Yes, sir,” Y/N bites down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling too big. Derek rolls his eyes as he presses kisses across her shoulders and neck. “Should we take that shower now?”

Derek doesn’t answer with words but grabs the back of her thighs, pulls her up, and carries her into the shower. As the water starts to hit her, she presses her hands against the side of his head to tilt his face toward her. She crashes her lips onto his and he slowly lets her down from his hold. Her hands move to the back of his head and run through his hair as her feet touch the shower tile floor.

Derek’s hands roam around her body as if to make sure she was still there.  Y/N moans as he grabs her ass a bit harshly. His lips slowly move from hers and down her neck. Y/N throws her head back as his left comes up and squeezes at her right breast.

Derek’s lips leave her neck as he quickly grabs her waist and turns her around in his hold. Moving his hands to her hips, he presses her ass against his him. “I’m going to make you cum once in here. Then, I’m going to make you cum at least two more times before I do.”

“It’s been like a week since we last did anything. Are you sure you can make it that long?”

“Just for that, I’m going to make it twice in here.”

“You say that like it’s a punishment.”

Derek’s left hand moves up her body before wrapping gently around her throat as his right hand glides down her body toward her core. He squeezes her neck in warning as she tries to tug his right hand down faster.

Y/N huffs in frustration when he pulls his hand away from hovering over her clit. Her eyes follow his hand as he reaches up and pulls the removable showerhead off its hook. With his left hand still around her neck, his other hand runs the showerhead around her body to slowly wash away the dirt and blood that’s still on her.

She moans softly as he lingers around her breast. Her nipples harden as the hot, steady stream of water flows onto her boobs.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I was promised at least two orgasms in here,” Y/N says, pressing her butt back into his hard dick to make her point.

“Patience,” Derek says lowly.

He lowers the shower head from her breast and down to her pussy that feels like it’s throbbing in anticipation. Y/N bites her bottom lip as the waterfall from the showerhead starts to hit her where she wants it most. It feels good, but she needs more.

Almost as if Derek could read her thoughts, he uses his thumb to turn the showerhead to the massage setting. Y/N gasps in pleasure as the water goes from a pleasant flow to a powerful stream that seems to hit her clit in just the right place. His left hand squeezes around her neck again as she starts to squirm from the intense gratification the showerhead is giving her.

“Holy fuck,” Y/N moans out. She can already feel her first orgasm approaching fast. She can’t tell if it’s because the water stream is hitting her that well, or if it’s because they haven’t done anything in a while. Honestly, she thinks she could’ve orgasmed just looking at him earlier.

Derek can tell she’s close from the way her back is slightly arching away from his body, “You might as let go now because you’ve still got to give me one more in here.”

“Shit,” Y/N eyes roll to the back into her—her hands grabbing Derek’s left arm—as her first orgasm washes over her. Her body twitches for a few seconds before coming down from her high. She whines and tries to squirm away from the strong water stream still hitting her sensitive clit.

“Stay still,” Derek presses a kiss to the side of her head. “Give me one more and I’ll take it away. You remember what to say if it gets too much?”

“Kanima.”

“Good girl,” Derek presses another kiss to the side of her head as he brings the shower head closer to her clit, so she has less room to squirm away from it.

Y/N moans as the pleasure of the powerful stream hitting her pulsing clit outweighs the sensitivity. She lets out of string of curses as her second orgasm hits her faster than her first. The combination of the showerhead and Derek’s grip on her neck has her vision going white, her legs feeling weak, and her body spasming.

When her senses come back to her, she notices the showerhead is back on its hook and Derek’s hand is no longer around her neck. His arms are wrapped around her body holding her up while he’s pressing light kisses against her neck.

“Holy fuck,” Y/N says through her hard breathing.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?” Derek teases her.

“Give me a minute to collect my thoughts and maybe I can say something else.”

Derek turns her around to face him with his arms still wrapped around her to help hold her up. He smiles lovingly at her before pressing a soft, sweet kiss against her lips. “Are you ready for part two?”

“I’ve barely even showered,” Y/N jokingly exclaims.

“You’ll need to shower again afterwards anyway,” Derek smirks. He winks at her before scooping her up into his arms bridal style. Y/N throws her arms around his neck as he uses the arm behind her back to turn off the shower. She laughs as he carries her out of the shower and into their bedroom, gently laying her on their bed.

Derek lies between her legs as Y/N wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer to her. Y/N’s hands find their way back up to his hair as they make out. They can feel their love for each other through each kiss along with the gratefulness that they’re both okay after everything that has happened.

Derek continues to kiss her as his body pulls away slightly and his right hand trails down her front. His middle finger circles around her opening before slowly pushing into her vagina. Y/N moans into his mouth as her vagina subconsciously squeezes around his finger at the intrusion before relaxing. He slowly moves his finger in and out as he starts to prepare her for his cock.

Y/N starts to grind against his hand as he adds another finger, “If you keep going at this rate, I might cum before you get inside me.”

“Good,” Derek says, moving from her mouth down to her neck. If she wasn’t a werewolf, she would be covered in hickeys in the morning.

Y/N lets out a loud moan and her back arches off the bed when his thumb grazes her clit. She feels overwhelmed by his thumb rubbing circles on her sensitive clit, his fingers curling and hitting her in just the right spot, and his mouth now attached to her right nipple. Her toes curl and her hands clutch at the bed’s—now wet—comforter beneath her as her third orgasm washes over her. Her body is still spasming as Derek slows his movements as she comes down from her high.

Derek presses a hard, long kiss to her lips before he pulls his fingers out of her and moves away from her. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a condom and a small thing of lube. Y/N smiles up at him as she watches him rip open the condom packet with his teeth and roll the condom onto his hard cock. He uncaps the small lube bottle and spreads the lube on his covered dick with his hand. “Are you ready?”

“Just get in me already.”

Derek grabs her legs and spreads them a bit wider. He stares down at her already wrecked pussy with love and lust in his eyes. He can’t help but bring his hand down to give it a quick, hard slap. The squeal and moan that Y/N lets out goes straight to his cock and makes him impossibly harder.

Derek uses one hand to hold one of her legs out and the other to slowly guide his dick into her. He lets out a low groan as he enters her. He can see her biting down on her bottom lip and her lands clenching around the comforter as he eases the rest of the way into her. He bends down to kiss and suck on her breast as she gets used to him being in her.

“Move,” Y/N moans, moving her hips a little to get him to move.

Derek removes his mouth from her left boob, “What was that?”

“Move.”

“I think you’re missing something.”

Y/N has to hold back from rolling her eyes, “Please.”

“Good girl,” Derek smirks at her before sitting up. His arms wrap around her legs as he starts to slowly thrust into her.

He’s trying hard to hold himself back, but the feeling of her walls squeezing around his cock is making it hard to. Y/N eyes roll back and her back arches as his thrusts start to speed up. Her moans are loud enough that there’s no way they wouldn’t get noise complaints if they had neighbors. Thank god the people below them moved out two months ago and no one else has moved in. They probably would’ve heard them even though they’d be two floors down.

Wanting Y/N to cum before him, Derek moves one hand to her clit and starts to rub hard circles on it. Y/N’s body starts to spasm as her fourth—and last—orgasm washes over her.

The feeling of her vagina spasming around his cock causes Derek to orgasm too. His hips start to slow and stutter as he cums into the condom. He stops his thrust before pulling out of Y/N. He pulls the used condom off his dick and throws it into the trashcan next to his bedside table. He looks down at Y/N who is still spread out on their bed trying to catch her breath.

A smile crosses his face as he stares down at the woman he loves. He bends down and leans over her to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Y/N says, pressing another kiss to his lips.

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

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[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This might a 2 or 3 parter. College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that troupe and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. There is not interaction be MC and Bucky quite yet.

Word Court: 1935

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned as you threw your head back against the worn couch. 

“I want the project to focus on movement, but lifelike movement. Human movement.” You mocked your professor. It not being nature themed had to be a jab just for you. All your projects were nature related or still motion. 

“Professor Grace wasn’t targeting you,” Wanda said, letting out a chuckle at your dramatics. 

“Are you sure you’re not a drama major?” Pietro laughed as he threw a butter packet at you. 

“You two are the worst,” you sighed as you threw your arm over your eyes. Twins, why did my best friends have to be twins. The world is cruel, your thoughts drift.

“Why don’t you come to the track and draw me?” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes in response.  

“Eh,” you sighed. You didn’t want a solution at the moment. You just wanted to complain. 

“She just wants to vent guys,” Natasha said as she came through the door holding a couple bags of takeout and a box of wine. “And I doubt she wants to see you and the rest of the track team in those tiny little running shorts you call clothing,” she sassed at Pietro. He just laughed, and stuck a pose with his leg up on the bar stool next to the island counter causing you all to laugh with him. 

“Thank you,” you exclaimed as she handed you your food. You threw a 10 at her and settled back down into the couch. 

“You know, you could come by the rink and draw a couple of the guys,” Nat mentioned. Her long term boyfriend was on the hockey team, Clint, a sharpshooting winger nicknamed Hawkeye. 

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “I’m not going to have them think I’m one of those, puck kitties, or whatever they’re called.” 

“Puck bunny,” Wanda chimed in, you pointed your chopstick at her and smiled. 

Natasha let out a loud laugh, one of those full bodied ones, “god they won’t think that.” You raised your eyebrow at her and gave her an incredulous look. 

“I can’t have them showing off because I’m there. I need to get them in their element. Not focused on what I’m doing,” you groaned again. “Biggest issue is I will need permission from the person or people. So they’ll have to know.” 

“Like I said Princessa, draw me. You have my permission,” Pietro winked, you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You’re too obvious of a choice. And as much as Wanda insists that Professor Grace doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me, she’ll love pointing out I picked the safe option,” you whined. 

“Wanda, you haven’t seen Grace in class. She will take any chance to criticize her pieces. Nitpicking to the extreme.” Natasha chimed in, “if it wasn’t for Dr. Rain I think our resident artist would've failed out of this course by now.” Dr. Rain was the head of the art department and after a wholly undergraded piece you submitted last semester Prof. Grace was on thin ice. So she graded you fairly but took every chance to tear you apart in front of the class. 

“I’ll think about the hockey team. It would be the least expected from me anyway,” you signed and got up from the couch taking everyone’s garbage and throwing it out. Football season was over, but the hockey season was in full swing right now and our team was top of the league. 

“They have practice tomorrow night, you should come by and look at it,” Nat said, giving you a knowing look. 

~The Next Day~

That's how you ended up in the rink. Underdressed because you didn’t realize how cold an ice rink would be in the stands. You were right though, about the type of girls that hung out there, they were scantily dressed and leaning over the tunnel that the players exited and entered from. How they weren’t frozen baffled you. 

Nat was sitting reading a chemistry book across from you near the bench, as you didn’t want the team knowing you knew her. Well everyone but Clint. You’ve hung out quite a few times over the past couple years. You took a seat a few rows up opposite the bench near what Nat called the Sin bin (penalty box.) It gave an excellent undisrupted view of the rink and the players as they practiced. 

The sounds of skates gliding over fresh ice and sticks bouncing off it was an almost soothing sound. The puck skittered across the ice as it was passed between teammates and shot toward the empty net. The goalie, a guy named Quill, was performing some kind of ritual at the opposite end of the rink. Nat mentioned he was a bit of an odd duck. But according to her all goalies were odd in their own ways. 

The movement was fluid and easy to follow. How these giant men moved so weightlessly across the ice left you in awe. The Captain of the team was a blonde center named Steve Rogers, better known as Cap. Most of the school knew him, he was in a few of your art classes over the semesters. His girlfriend Peggy, was the student union president. 

The star of the team was his blurry best friend James “Bucky” Barnes. He was a “winger,” with good prospects for the NHL according to Nat as she gave you a lowdown of the team as you guys went there just after practice started. He was nicknamed the White Wolf. How a man of his size moved that easily was mesmerizing, he almost floated over the ice and it looked like he was dancing. He was sinfully handsome as well. Every other week he had a new girl hanging off his arm. Undoubtedly one of those puck bunnies as they were called. He was the talk of the school after the football season concluded. 

It made you dislike him on principle. The sports were definitely more priority in the school and the art department lacked thanks to these overgrown toddlers on skates. But you couldn’t deny his natural handsomeness, he looked effortlessly handsome and it was almost unfair. 

You looked down at your sketch pad that you had been absently scratching at. Bucky seemed to be your muse because you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he effortlessly skated around the rink. You were in danger and you knew it. You gulped and closed the book before quickly gathering your things and leaving. 

It didn’t take Nat long to text you and ask where you went. You sent her a quick message back saying you were cold. Not that Bucky, the school's playboy, had quickly become the muse of your piece. 

“Nat, I thought you said your friend was coming by,” Clint asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“She did, she left because she was cold,” Nat chuckled. 

“Anyone know the pretty one watching by the sin bin?” She overheard Wilson ask. “And what she was doing?” 

“I think I was in a couple art classes with her,” Steve mentioned missing your name. 

“I won’t complain if she comes by again,” Barnes said. Wilson raised a brow at him. 

“What, so you can break her heart well?” 

“Look doll, it’s not you,” 

“It’s me.” Wilson and Stark said together. Barnes shot both men a glare. Then the high pitched whine of Barnes newest fling squealed his name and that was Clint and Nat’s queue to hightail it out of there. The collective groans from the rest of the team matched her thoughts. 

~A couple days later~

“Loki, I don’t know what I’m going to do, this project is worth too much for me to go safe,” you sighed as you laid your head on his lap. He was reading some classic novel for his English class in the student commons. His fingers nimbly moved through your hair as he held the book in the other hand. 

“Darling, just go back to the ice rink,” he knew almost immediately when something was up when you were walking together a couple days later. The perspective bastard. Loki was your best friend since middle school, his brother Thor was the star quarterback for the football team in both high school and here. 

“Why would I do that,” you pouted. 

“Because you clearly want to draw this man, and it will ruin you for months just like that piece you did of Helena,” he said shortly. Helena or Hela was his big sister and she was absolutely stunning. You had pined over drawing her for a piece for months before Loki forced you to ask her. It fixed everything and life back to normal after you painted the piece. 

“I hate when you do that,” you whined, his eyes flicking down to your face. 

“Hate what darling,” he mused. 

“That, being reasonable and knowing what I need before I admit what I need to do.” He laughed and ruffled your hair affectionately. 

“Comes with years of experience,” he sighed and placed his book down next to his leg. “Do bundle up this time will you,” he called as you walked away, you quickly flipped him the bird as you rounded the corner. 

And there you were back at the rink again. Although tonight was a game night and the rink was packed. “20 dollars,” a nasally boy said as he pushed his glasses up, he looked bored out of his mind. 

“Pardon?” You asked, looking at him. 

“It’s 20 dollars to get in the game,” he said in an annoyed tone. 

“Oh, I’m a student,” you showed your ID card, he rolled his eyes, “5 dollars.” You nodded and placed the five down. Only partners of the team got in free. Perk of fucking one of the team members you guessed, that must have outweighed the fear of them cheating or getting bored. You knew that wasn’t fair. At least two of the guys were in committed relationships and one was in an on again off again relationship. The rest though you weren’t sure, you shock your head at the thought. 

You caught the flaming red hair of Nat in her reserved seat next to the bench, Peggy was next to her. There were a few open seats at the top of the rink, not great from getting a good view of what you needed to draw. But it would have to do. Instantly your eyes were drawn to Barnes, number 17, flying up the ice leaving the opposing team in the dust, snow? With a quick flick of his wrist the puck was shot sideways and Barton scored. The crowd stood and cheered loudly. You wished you had ear plugs now. The buzzer was insanely loud and made your ears ring. How Nat enjoyed this you’d never understand. Barton. You thought, Nat wasn’t big on sports, but she was big on her sweet boyfriend. 

You focused on Barnes as he showboated around the rink, celebrating his assist. He moved so fluidly, you were mesmerized. You drew many little pieces focusing on the movement trying to capture the effortlessness of him skating. You were startled from your drawing when the buzzer screeched again the crowd roared in applause. The team scored again and it seemed to be Barnes that scored this time. Hats flew onto the ice as he skated around. That was odd, you squinted at the action. His eyes caught yours for a split second as he rushed past and it felt like eternity. 

Read Chapter 2 here

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more <3

[djs-sideblog-for-pog-trains]

Friends (that we made up for along the way) Chapter 10

Part 1 |  Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

heyy. it's only been like a year and a bit or however long but. here's what might be The Last ? chapter of this fic. unless i can think of more. but i dont think i can. it's now more so i can say i actually uploaded everything more than anything else.

Characters:  this chapter: Gordon, Edward, Henry, James, Duck

Relationships: platonic gordon&edward a major focus, some possible allusions to 2x3 - this chapter has 2&3&4&5 friendship

Genre: Human AU, hurt/comfort

Chapter’s Wordcount: roughly 1300words [under the cut]

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of alcohol (they are at a pub), discussion of medical procedures, mentions of medicine, recoveries.

Chapter 10/10(?)

Edward was actually up and walking like normal by the time Henry came back. Sir Topham Hatt had spread the news the moment he’d heard Henry was in a stable condition, the moment he’d heard Henry was awake, and so on and so forth, and had even travelled to the mainland multiple times to visit Henry himself.

He had mandated that Henry had to go through a full physical recovery before he come back, but it was clear when he had returned from the mainland with a relieved expression that Henry was going to be alright.

So the day Henry actually came back, months later but looking healthier than maybe anyone had ever seen him, grinning and to a great hullabaloo, everyone decided a party was in order.

Eventually, after a huge staff party that had tired most of them out, a smaller group of them winded up that evening in one of Sodor’s best bars, and James had offered to buy a round for the table.

“Not for me,” Henry had to sigh. “My new medication, I can’t drink.”

“A fate worse than death!” James crowed in reply, before winking to prove he was joking. “So, milk for the gentleman, alright. You two?”

Gordon snorted at that as Edward patted Henry’s arm to console his fake-outrage.

“Sure,” Edward smiled. Gordon nodded, and James hopped off his tall barstool to go order.

“Medication?” Gordon questioned, turning back to Henry.

“Yeah! Turns out my heart’s shit,” Henry sighed, propping his chin in his hand. “So it’ll help regulate that so I can actually do stuff without, like, falling over.”

“Oh.”

Henry laughed at his expression. “It’s alright! I feel better than I have in years. And you’ll never believe what all the back pain was from.”

“What?” Edward leant forward too.

“Gallstones,” Henry replied conversationally. “Turns out I had a bunch of them.”

Gordon winced in sympathy. “I hear those are nasty.”

“Very much so,” Henry grinned back, and while it was very weird to see him smiling about his old pains, at least it was better than him breaking down about it. “Turns out it’s very common to mistake gallstones for just… chronic back pain. The surgeon who removed mine said he’d never seen one so big.”

He made out the rough sizing with his fingers, and Edward and Gordon shot each other a look that was verging on horrified.

Henry laughed at that too. “But I’m better now,” he said, and then he laughed again, and it was loud, and joyous, and carefree, and attracted a few glances. “I’m better! I feel good! I…”

He slumped back in his chair and covered his mouth a moment, seeming to be fighting off the fact he was tearing up a little, like the realisation that he might not have to struggle has much as he had in the past had yet to fully settle.

“That’s good,” Gordon reached over and patted him firmly on the shoulder. “I’m delighted for you.”

Henry patted him on the arm right back, hand falling away to reveal a grin breaking out over his face again. His ice-blue eyes were shining with a life that Gordon had never seen before.

“Thank you,” he said. “Cinders and ashes, it’s good to be back. I’ll tell you what, it’s been too quiet without you all. They’re a stuck-up bunch, over there. Tall poppies, the lot of them.”

James then came back with their drinks, very impressively holding four pints at once, before setting them down and distributing them.

“Hope lemon lime and bitters isn’t too much for you,” he said as he pushed the equivalent pint towards Henry.

“Perfect,” Henry smiled. “Thanks.”

James smiled back, and hopped back up next to Edward. “What did I miss?”

“Just the gory details of his surgery,” Edward said, elbowing James lightly.

“You said it without me?!” James threw a hand into the hair in exasperation. “C’mon!”

Henry laughed again. “Fine, if I must, I’ll explain even more. Hope you haven’t eaten yet!”

--- --- ---

For the first time in a long time, Gordon could actually agree with the phrase that ‘everything went back to normal’.

And the change in Henry was a relief in itself. He held himself taller, he could do more for longer, and Gordon found his energy infectious. It finally felt like Henry was the equal he always could (and perhaps should) have been.

And even more of a relief, Edward was cleared for full active duty again. The kicker was that he didn’t actually tell Gordon this to his face. Instead, Edward let Gordon leave that morning, following their recent routine, before rushing to get dressed himself and run out the door once the coast was clear.

So naturally, Gordon’s surprise was well through the roof when at 10:30am, when his train would normally cross with Edward’s at Knapford, he heard a shout of his name, and looked up from where he was climbing out of his cab to see Edward himself running down the platform, full uniform, bag slung over his shoulder, the biggest smile he’d seen on the man since Henry came home.

“Hello!” Edward chirped, coming to a halt in front of Gordon, out of breath but looking so very alive.

“You’re working,” Gordon said bluntly, stumped.

Edward laughed, loud and long enough for the worry Gordon had been sitting on for so long finally started wearing away. “I am!” he said. “Now, come, sit! I have tea!”

And they shared a morning tea on the bench on the Knapford platform. Gordon regarded the travel cups they were using with a snort of amusement – it was the same set from the last time they did this.

Perhaps, then, Edward was trying to tell him something. Maybe he was trying to do it without words, in that way Edward always claimed Gordon did too.

…It was nice to see him out of the house, up on his feet, out in the sunshine. There was even fresh soot speckled on the collar of his white shirt, and Edward had seemed to not only notice, but relish in it.

Gordon hid a smile behind the rip of the cup. It was good to see him like this.

Edward turned to him to comment on something, and caught the look Gordon had been shooting him, which Gordon quickly let drop away into something more stony, but it was too late. Edward didn’t comment on it, though. He just winked at him and passed Gordon the food he’d brought for the two of them to share.

And so they sat, and ate, and chatted. Edward wasn’t going to lie, he was monitoring that crease between Gordon’s eyebrows closely, one he swore had been deepening as the weeks had trailed on, and felt a hundred tons lighter to see it finally easing.

Off down the platform, Edward looked up to see Duck there, talking to the station master a good handful of metres away. When Duck finished his conversation, he turned, presumably to leave, but Edward managed to catch his eye.

Duck paused, eyes flicking between him and Gordon, before smiling and nodding. He shot Edward the most subtle thumbs-up he could manage, and Edward simply winked back. When Gordon eventually looked up to see what Edward was looking at, he nodded at Duck in greetings, surprised to see him there. Duck, from that distance away, grinned and tipped his hat to the two of them before skipping off.

Gordon raised an eyebrow at that, before glancing at Edward with a look that said ‘wonder what that was all about’  accompanied by an eye-roll. Edward simply chuckled a little to himself, and said nothing more.

It may take a while to get everything smoothed out, but they were most certainly on their way, and well, Edward could cope with that.

[padfootagain]

Where We Kept Our Magic (I)

How We Met

Hello everyone ! I know what you are all going to think ‘holy shit, Carole is back with a new series AGAIN how many of these does she have?!’ The answer is simple : a) I have no self -control whatsoever hence the numerous series, b)there is no excuse, I’m simply a very messy writer. However, so far, I’m keeping up with all the series, so… let’s see!

This series is a little peculiar, because it is not meant to be a real series. This will be made of scenes and snippets that are independent from one another (more or less) taken at different moments in an AU. But there isn’t one major plot binding the whole series together. The concept is simply to explore the idea of Sirius dating a muggle reader, nothing more. Each chapter = one moment in their lives. I’m starting off with how they’ve met, but the following chapter might not even be posted in chronological order, we’ll see. The idea is really to just have a collection of moments, that’s all.

Also, a huge thank you to @damalseer and @reg-arcturus-black because we’ve talked about this fic together, and I have listened to their amazing concepts for this.

Now, that being said, I hope you all like this cute concept! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter (one mention of weed and none of the characters smoke) except for extreme fluffiness that might lead to cavities or a melting of the heart.

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 3747

Masterlist for the series - Sirius Black's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The music is loud, maybe too much so. Banging your head under the neon lights, you get dizzy after a while. It’s hot, full of people, an underground concert somewhere in Soho. Your friend has dragged you here, and you’ve sneaked out of your parents’ house to come. They will kill you if they notice your absence.

You’re sweaty, but you can’t say that you care. Your make up is smeared by now, eyeliner getting away from your eyes, and you don’t mind. You bang your head to the music still, some rock band you didn’t know before coming here. Still, they’re good enough, they make you jump up and down like a mad woman and that’s exactly what you need. You’re seventeen, you’re young, you want to be free. And as you let the music in, let it shake your body and echo with your heartbeat, you do feel like you’re breaking barriers, even if it can’t last beyond this night.

Your friend is shouting, and screaming along the song even if she doesn’t know the lyrics, and you laugh at her. It feels good. It feels liberating… Rock’n roll and Soul and the blurred scent of weed.

“I told you it would be awesome!” Jackie shouts, sending a wink your way through her pink heart-shaped glasses.

“It is!” you nod in agreement, screaming above the music while jumping up and down some more.

“Worse getting in trouble?”

“I’m not thinking about that right now!”

“No?”

“Right now, I’m enjoying myself! I can worry on my way home!”

“Now! That’s the spirit! You know what? You deserve a beer, rebel girl!”

You laugh at that, and let Jackie disappear through the crowd to get some beer from an illegal bar at the back of the room. You’re seventeen, you’re way too young to drink, and you don’t give a damn.

The beat drops, it makes your ribcage tremble, it shakes your brain, you’re dizzy again. You don’t wait for Jackie to be back, instead, you jump and clap along to the rhythm of the song. You only slow down when you have a strange feeling, like someone is staring at you…

And indeed, when you turn around, you notice a guy looking at you, a couple of rows behind.

Tall. Long dark-hair. Even from afar he seems extremely handsome, but the cold kind of beauty that fits better to a statue than to a living thing. Unreachable. Yes, that’s what is painted all over his features. Someone to admire from afar. A leather jacket, a Queen t-shirt. You can’t see his legs, but you bet on some dark jeans. He looks like trouble. An awful lot of it… And as he stares at you, you can’t help but find him intimidating.

But then, he notices that you’re looking at him, and his lips curve into a small, crooked smile. And you kind of like it.

You turn away again, though, and Sirius averts his gaze as well. This is ridiculous, anyway. He’s in Muggle London, at an illegal concert, getting drunk with James, Remus and Peter and this… You’re probably a Muggle, like everyone around him except for his fellow Marauders. He’s spotted you through the crowd: with your woollen crop-top, your flared jeans, and the bandana in your hair, you look like a hippie.

But he’s a Wizard, you’re off-limits. Too complicated, especially for him.

Instead, he raises his cup to drink some beer, but he finds the glass empty. He mumbles some insult under his breath.

“I’ll get some beer,” he tells James, his friend nodding but too busy dancing to properly answer.

And Sirius smiles bright at the sight of his best friend, his brother, grinning and having the time of his life, sweaty and hair even more dishevelled than usual, glasses lopsided upon his nose.

They’ve been back from Hogwarts for a couple of weeks, it’s their first night out since they’ve come back to the Potters. It’s Sirius’s first summer having a real home. And so far he loves it, and tonight more than ever. They’ve sneaked out of the Potters’ house to get on the Knight Bus and travel to Soho for this concert Remus had heard about through a Muggle friend of his. And Sirius loves it. Every second of it. His friends, the beat of the music through his ribcage, the lights, the shouts, the guitar screaming, the banging of his head to the rhythm… He loves it. He feels free. He’s been feeling that way since he ran from his parents the previous summer. It hits him with full strength now that he’s out of this mess, that he can be whoever he wants. He’s broken free, it feels a lot like flying, same exhilarating feeling.

He moves across the crowd to get a drink. He’s seventeen, too young to drink, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything tonight. Tonight is for fun, only. His problems, the struggles of his world… that can wait for tomorrow.

The bar is at the back of the same room as the concert, the music is still as loud as it was when he was in the middle of the crowd, dancing. He points at his empty plastic cup while mouthing another beer to the waiter. The middle-aged man doesn’t ask questions. He’s smoking something, and Sirius isn’t sure it’s a mere cigarette. Sirius admires the tattoos on the man’s arms, intricate details painted with black ink. He wants to look like that. He wants to be tattooed, he’s been thinking about it for a while. He’ll get his first one during the summer, it’s decided…

He thanks the waiter and pays for his beer, but Sirius doesn’t get very far. He’s barely turned towards the stage again that someone bumps into him, and half of his beer is now wetting his favourite t-shirt.

“Oh fuck! Dick! Can’t you watch were you’re…”

But he looks up and his voice dies out when he falls into your eyes.

He’s only looked at you from afar, but he recognizes you in an instant. It’s weird. Like… like he knows you already. Like he’s drawn to you, for some reason.

His voice is much lower when he speaks again.

“…going.”

Your eyes are wide-open, you apologize profusely. You almost seem afraid of him.

And you are, for a part. Sirius is even more intimidating up-close. And his voice is deep and cold, and yet you love it. You love the deep, tumultuous sound. And his eyes are of a deep grey, like a summer sky before a thunder-storm, almost black under the blinking light of the concert. He’s much taller than you, it doesn’t help with the cold calmness that oozes from his frame, a feeling of something dangerously beautiful, almost aristocratic.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry…” you keep on saying that, and it takes Sirius a moment to finally react. He has to blink a couple of times before that.

Because you look beautiful like this, under the blinking lights. You are a hippie, you have the complete set of clothes, and he loves it, you look adorable. There’s something wild and determined in your gaze too, he doesn’t really know what it is, but it makes him feel safer anyway. You’re almost intimidating, in a way…

“No, it’s me. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and he wonders why he’s acting almost shy now, he can feel a blush spreading across his features.

You notice his reddened cheeks, and you can’t refrain a smile. He looks cuter this way, almost kind.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m clumsy as fuck, sometimes,” he speaks, but the music is too loud, you can’t catch all the words.

“I’ll pay you another drink,” you offer, speaking loudly so he can hear you, but he shakes his head.

“No, no! It’s fine.”

“I’ve ruined it.”

“Not at all. I mean… kind of. But it’s fine. You didn’t mean it.”

You’re staring at each other, and it is very strange because… because you can feel that he’s trouble and yet you can’t seem to look away. He’s a good kind of trouble, you reckon. Not the classic bad boy, there’s something more layered into these dark eyes, and you want to know what it is all about. You don’t know why you feel like you know him, already. Like… like you’re drawn to him.

He's opened his mouth to speak again when Jackie shouts your name, grinning as she spots you, and you turn towards her.

“I was looking for my friend over there. She went to get us drinks.”

“I see.”

“Sorry again for the beer.”

Before Sirius can add anything you’ve turned around and you’re disappearing through the crowd, following Jackie, and Sirius remains standing there, with his glass half-empty and his wet t-shirt stinking of beer…

It takes him a moment to shake himself out of his thoughts, to look for the guys in the crowd again, to join them once more.

He’s barely reached the group that James turns to him with a mischievous grin that clearly means trouble.

“So… found a pretty lady, Padfoot?”

Sirius rolls his eyes.

“She bumped into me and now…”

He shows his drenched t-shirt, but James is not fooled, and neither are Peter and Remus, who are shaking their heads at their friend.

“That’s why you were blushing, of course,” Remus teases him, earning himself a punch in the arm.

“Fuck off, Moony!”

“He’s right, though,” Peter adds with a chuckle. “You were mesmerized!”

“I was not!”

“You should ask her out!” James encourages his friend. “She’s over there!”

Sirius follows the direction his friend is pointing, and you’re there alright. You’re dancing again, struggling a little because of your drink. You throw your head back as you laugh at your friend… you’re charming, really, even from afar…

But Sirius shakes his head, drinking some beer instead.

“Muggle,” is his only answer, barely audible above the loud music, as Sirius is more careful now.

But his three friends roll their eyes in unison.

“Come on, Pads!” Remus encourages him as well.

“Too complicated,” Sirius shakes his head.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious! It’s summer! You could have a fling, for a couple of months,” Peter argues.

And Sirius is hesitant now. His friend is right. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can merely be a fling… nothing serious…

“Besides, maybe she isn’t even nice!” Remus jumps in again, still rubbing his painful arm. “You should talk to her, while you still can.”

While you still can… Why does Sirius feel such an urgency all of a sudden? As if… as if he has so much to lose, when he hasn’t, really. You’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name…

He wants to know it though.

He heaves a sigh, one last hesitation, before he downs his drink in one large gulp, and strides across the crowd towards you.

His heart is beating so fast, and he doesn’t even know why, because… he doesn’t know. There are no stakes whatsoever. So, why is he nervous?

You don’t notice him until he’s right by your side, and Jackie frowns at him, wondering who the hell he is.

You freeze when you turn to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey?”

Your voice is too shy, he can’t hear you, but he guesses what you said by the movement of your lips.

“I… I was wondering… would you like a drink?”

He’s cursing himself for not looking as confident as usual. He’s never stuttered like that in front of a girl before.

You seem to hesitate, and he shoots you a crooked smile. It’s charming, but it still looks a little shy. You really love that…

“I’ve kind of changed my mind about the beer,” he jokes, and it’s enough to make you smile.

Behind you, you feel Jackie’s finger poking at your side, and you know what she means without looking at her. You can hear her voice, what she would say, her exact words.

Handsome bloke who seems to be our age. You’d better say yes!

And you’ve come here tonight to feel free. No consequences for now, no trouble, you’ll think about those once you try to sneak back into your parents’ house. For now, you’re in this crazy concert, under blinking neon lights, this guy is gorgeous and there’s something pulling you to him and… and it’s enough. At least, it’s enough for a drink.

“Alright, but I’m the one who owns you a drink. So, I’m buying.”

He grins at that, agreeing with a nod, and you walk towards the bar again.

You buy Sirius his drink, but the music seems even louder than before, and when he tries to speak to you, you can’t hear a thing.

After a second try, he leans closer to speak into your ear. So close, you can smell cigarettes, leather, beer and something of citrus on him. Your head spins a little…

“Mind stepping out for a minute?”

He reads on your face that he’s scared you away. You look up at him with worried eyes, and he curses himself for it.

After all, he still looks intimidating, with his cross earing, the pentagram pendant around his neck, his charming smile…

Is he simply a teenager? Or a psychopath? No one can know, after all… and you’re just seventeen, and he’s a stranger, and you ought to be careful.

He leans closer again, and you force yourself not to breathe his scent too deeply, not to close your eyes when you feel his breath graze the skin right behind your ear.

“We can stay by the door. But it’s too loud here.”

As if to prove a point, he points at his ear, then his throat. And he’s right, of course. If you want to talk, even for five minutes, you can’t do it here.

You slowly nod, going on your tiptoes. He bends a little to bring his ear to your level.

“I’ll warn my friend then.”

He nods with a smile, lets you cross the crowd.

You warn Jackie, she tells you she’ll check on you in ten minutes, just in case. And you’re grateful for it.

Meanwhile, Sirius throws a glance towards his friends, and they all give him some thumb-ups and some ridiculous grins, and he rolls his eyes.

You come back after a mere minute, and you let him guide you upstairs again.

It’s the end of spring, the beginning of summer, but the night is still fresh, cooled down by a small breeze. It sends shivers across your skin, but that’s a nice feeling. It clears your head a little bit. After the loud sound of the concert, the lights, the crowd, the shouts… it feels good to step outside in the quiet of a night in London.

A car drives by, there’s the rushed whisper of the wind in nearby trees, but that’s about it, really. A few people are taking a break from the show too, gathered in small clusters all along the backstreet where you stand now. As a reflex, you step closer to a lamppost, looking for the light. A lost moth in a dark street…

Sirius takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, and offers you one, but you decline. He lights one up for himself.

“Do you like the concert so far?” he asks after taking his first drag.

“Yeah, it’s fun! I didn’t know the band before tonight though, so… not great to sing along!”

“Didn’t know them either. I came with a friend, he’s the one who knew the band. They’re good, though.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“You came with a friend too, right?”

“Yeah, with Jackie! She kind of… dragged me here, to be honest.”

“I’m grateful she did.”

There’s flirt in his tone, and you can’t help but shy away. And you look adorable like this, Sirius loves it. But then again, you don’t seem comfortable yet, and he wants you to be so.

“We can go back whenever you want, you know? It’s fine if you prefer to find back your friend,” he offers.

And you genuinely consider accepting, walking back inside and run away with Jackie but then again… you don’t really want to. Because Sirius is beyond handsome like this: smoking, tilting his head to the side a little as he waits for an answer, his face bathed in the golden light of the lamppost.

And you love his voice. Deep, much warmer than before. More welcoming. Charming…

“It’s okay, I’m just… not really used to going to concerts like that and… this…”

He smiles at that, a smile more earnest, brighter too, and you like it. He doesn’t seem so scary now…

“Neither am I, to be honest.”

“You look like the part, though,” you joke, pointing at his leather jacket, his t-shirt, his combat boots. He laughs at that, and you find that you like the sound. It’s brighter than you expected it would be.

“True but… let’s say that I didn’t often have the opportunity to come to this kind of things. Besides, I’m still young. Plenty of time to catch up with that now.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

You seem to relax at that.

“I’m seventeen too.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile crooked again, near a smirk, and you like it. You really do.

“Are you still in high school?” you ask him, and he nods.

“Yeah, huh… boarding school.”

“Oh, I see. It must be nice to see your parents during the summer.”

But he merely smiles, and doesn’t answer. You silently curse yourself for obviously touching a nerve.

It’s alright though, Sirius doesn’t mind. He doesn’t reckon that it’s a conversation fit for such a night though, so he changes the topic and guides it towards you again, and finally asks for your name.

“Y/N,” you answer with a smile, and he finds that he adores the sight of it; it’s infectious, he wants to smile too now. “What about you?”

“Sirius. Sirius Black. I know, weird name.”

“Pretty though.”

You exchange a grin, but the gesture is shy for both of you.

Damn, Sirius’s throat tightens, and he’s a ball of nerves, really. He doesn’t know what it is about you that just… makes him lose his cool. But he loves it. It’s endearing. And you’re worth it. He can feel it.

He guides the conversation towards you again, and ten minutes fly by, and you forget all about Jackie who’s supposed to check up on you. Sirius is on his second cigarette, and you don’t even notice her when she smiles at the sight of the two of you and decides to leave you alone and head back for the end of the show.

You talk for a long time, actually. You’ve relaxed as the minutes flew by, you feel good now. You don’t cling that much to the light of the lamppost, you’re turned fully towards Sirius instead. Another source of light, even if this one seems more complex.

You talk for a long while, so long that people start flooding the street as the show ends. You’re both running out of time… and neither of you want to say goodbye just yet.

But it’s late. Very late, the night is heavy and the moon is declining. You must go home, and so does he.

He takes a deep breath, before diving.

“Would that be too much to ask for, if I wanted to go on a date with you?”

But you’re not so hesitant anymore, and you grin up at him.

“That would be nice.”

Sirius grins, his heart skipping a few beats.

“What about some dinner?” he offers, remembering an Italian restaurant where Remus has taken them before. “On Friday?”

But you can’t afford to take the risk of your parents saying no, and going out with a stranger on a Friday night is a lot to ask for…

“What about lunch, instead?”

Sirius merely shrugs.

“Sure. Okay. Let’s do that. There’s an Italian restaurant a couple of streets away. Let’s meet there at noon.”

“Okay.”

The two of you exchange a grin, that turns into shy chuckles.

“Alright, I’ll see you at noon next Friday, then, Y/N. And… thanks again for the drink.”

“I owed you one.”

“Still nice to be offered drinks by such a pretty girl.”

He expects you to shy away but you laugh instead.

“Wow, what a lousy line!”

He’s a little taken aback, but he likes it. You fire back; he likes that.

“It was an amazing line!”

“No, it was terrible. All it was missing was a good old wink…”

Sirius shoots you a grin and flirtatious wink in response, and you hate yourself for letting your heart miss a beat at the sight, but you can hardly help it. You laugh harder still, the sound infectious, so much so that Sirius chuckles too.

“Well, for our date, please, work on your flirt,” you tease him, and he decides that he adores this side of you…

“Very well, ma’am.”

You exchange one last smile, but you can’t buy yourself more time. And Sirius knows that he’s staring a little too much, but he can’t help it. He just wants to remember you perfectly, waiting for this date.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Be safe to go home.”

Your smile grows fonder.

“Thank you. Same to you, be careful, it’s very late. Goodnight, Sirius.”

He wants to bend down and kiss your cheek, raise his fingers to the edge of your jaw to touch your skin, judge how soft it is by himself. But he’s afraid to go too fast, to scare you away again, so he doesn’t. He looks at you as you walk towards Jackie instead, as you walk down the alley and disappear by the corner. The boys are waiting for him, amused smiles on their lips, but Sirius doesn’t notice them. He merely stares at you instead.

And you want to go on your tip-toes and kiss his cheek, rest a hand on his shoulder to see if it’s as strong as it seems to be. But you’re afraid to go too fast, to scare him away, so you don’t. You turn around instead, looking for Jackie, and you walk away, leaving Sirius alone under the light of the lamppost. But then you disappear, and he steps out of the light.

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Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites @wolfmoonmusic

[writingmochi]

“smirch” episode 2: jay

cast: skater & stoner!jay ✗ rival school student!fem.reader

synopsis: jay park likes liberty, something he felt every time he is either high or on his skateboard. selling weed for the students along with sunghoon, jay will do anything that helps him survive his life in korea. at a time when two rival schools are in a rugby match, it is the perfect time to do business, but he’s intrigued with you, a student from the rival school, who brought a plastic bag of cans of cat food

genre: teen drama, coming of age, slice of life, high school au, fluff, comedy, angst, mature content (drugs, suggestive themes, mental health)

based on: tv shows skins uk; specifically gen 1 banner intro video inspired by series 1′s opening (2007-2013) and skam norway (2015-2017)

word count: 27442 (27.4k)

warning(s): mc has anxiety and selective mutism, mention of overprotective parents, mention of neglectful parents, mention of drugs and consumption of drugs (cigarette and marijuana), drug-dealing, mentions of minor injuries, mention of dead animal, steamy make-out scene, not really a warning but mc used to live in the UK so she's gonna use british slangs and words equivalent to the ones used in american english (if i forget some or wrong in some way, let me know)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction. do be careful and read the warnings at the top as both the chapter and the series as a whole will contain serious and sensitive topics.

hello! thank you for waiting a FREAKING YEAR since the last episode my god. this is supposed to be released on jay's birthday and 420 day (cause he is a stoner in this fic *wink*) but because of a tragedy that landed the kpop industry. i didn't post it out of respect. so i try to polish it as best as i could which means adding and deleting plots that make sense within this fic and the smirch series (if you've read heeseung's ep, you're gonna see references that are thrown here too) also, because both mc and jay comes from a wealthy family with a business, you're gonna read business jargons from my business major and from watching too many "succession". oh, i’ve also opened an ask my character/behind-the-writing content for this series that you can check out right here. definitely recommend it if you are curious about what the characters have been up to in between the episodes so do ask and enjoy the messiness!

masterlist

jay felt naked without his skateboard by his side, but that is the consequence of delivering the stuff this day. heads upon heads all moving to one side as he lets out a tremendous sigh. his friends walk in front of him into the field on the school grounds, yet it’s not his school.

multiple pairs of feet drag on the stony pathway as they are walking around him, but he’s standing still in the middle of this commotion. jay opens the zipper of his backpack that dangles only one strap on his shoulder, pulling out the black plastic bag sat inside with his small notebook that has his marker stuck to it. after zipping the back, pages open as he searches for today’s date, who bought it, and the amount they're paying: matching the names to the accounts they used to contact him on their location—the plastic bag dangling on his wrist.

looking up from the book and screen, he can see his friends strolling to the bleachers—jake somewhere on the field, warming up for his match. jay sensed a tap on his shoulder as he faces where the touch comes from, seeing sunghoon looking at him; a smirk formed on his face and an unknown girl wrapped around his arm, not from the two schools competing today.

“you can handle giving them by yourself, right jjong?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised as he retreats his hand back while jay’s looking at his best friend and the girl he knows he will find the next morning at their flat.

“of course, i’m used to it. fucker.” he replied, rolling his eyes, as the two boys chuckles. sunghoon then walks away, leaving him alone as he sees his friend’s hand lowering down the girl’s back—walking somewhere that isn’t the seat of the rugby match. jay looks at the two sets of bleachers behind the tall silver fences, one where his school seats—the maroon and silver uniform ties on the necks of the people watching are enough for him to know—and the other where the rivals seat with their dark blue blazers instead of the black ones decelis uses. his eyes scanning the perimeter for the faces of the people that are going to pick up their order, looking for the appearance he has memorized from stalking their instagram profiles.

when the bat mascot came out to the sidelines, waiting for the teams to arrive at the field, he already meets a few of his customers. one was a member of a dance club of the school called “stray kids“. another one is the bassist for a band club that was rejuvenated after the seniors that are leaving one by one because of graduation. by the time he made his way to 1/4 off his list, he detects the orange and blue outfit of the moon knights, eyes scanning for a specific back which has written ‘sim 05’ on it, seeing his friend huddle up with the coach and his teammates. his eyes didn’t leave the field before the kick-off—the perfect time to hand the rest as other people are too focused on the game.

walking all around the bleachers—both of his own school and the rivals—jay can’t help to find the place where his friends sit. while walking down the stairs by the seats, he found them. taehyun recording the match with his digital camera, kai watching while also having another agatha christie book in his hand, sunoo and his best friend cheering for jake and following the chants that the seniors signals on the drums beside the bat mascot, and heeseung sitting beside beomgyu’s sister, hands interlock with each other while the brother is nowhere to be found.

jay does this every time his school has an event: opening a batch order along with sunghoon, closing it around three days before so he can pick the leaves and package them in his flat, then giving it to the people for a cash amount. a sporadic shop opens if they go to parties he or his friends find; usually either from heeseung, sunghoon, or beomgyu. all in all, he has done it so that he could be financially independent—as much as a high schooler could be independent. jay knew his market and the demand—something he learned from visits to his dad’s company back when he was in the US—he utilizes that as best as he can, being a homemade dealer who grew his stuff himself.

nearing the end of his list was around halftime for the rugby match. he can see the echos—decelis cheerleading team—doing their performance while the chants of his schoolmates' echos on the open field and surrounded by levant high; the home of their rivals today. a loyal customer of his just left his peripheral after getting her order as his eyes wander to the two bleachers he stood in between before landing on a group of cheerleaders from levant on the opposite side with their glittery purple outfits. aura is written on their torso in white with a flowy style like the ones the wind wakers has on their merchandise for enticing school spirit in the match season.

that’s when his eyes move again to see one of the cheer members sitting beside a girl in levant‘s blue blazer, speaking to her as she looks to the grass beneath her feet. a dark plastic back in her hands hanging above ground, swaying slowly from the blow of wind.

the echos finish performing as the cheer member besides the girl stood up before ruffling the girl’s hair, earning an offended look from her as the cheer member laughs before going to the field. jay then watches the other cheer member standing up to huddle with the member who sat beside the girl—the cheer captain—as they all give you a look that lingers on you, something burning as her shoulders slightly pop. even he could feel that sudden shiver from a few meters away. the girl sits back on the seat as she lifts the plastic bag and a hand appears to push it up onto her lap. something heavy is inside it.

the auras perform as he delivers the last orders on his list before going to the seat that taehyun and sunoo have put their bags on for his place as the second half starts. but he didn’t watch the match all the time. unlike his friends, his gaze somehow landed on where the girl is sitting. seeing her sit on the seat while eyes trailed the ball flying in the air, unlike the cheer captain beside her chatting along and cheering for the team. not even seeing her opening her mouth to speak.

it is the end of the match when he also stood up on the bleachers as the knights defeat the wakers by such a small margin. a well-performed comeback by jake as he gets the final score, seeing heeseung running down the bleachers and hugging the team along with jake’s teammates. jay lets out a smirk as he can watch the wide face on jake’s face—he deserves the captain role for this season—before his eyes view the disappointed levants who lose in their own home. a face of gloom as their crowd cheers for a good match, showing their sportive side.

he and his friends climb down from the bleachers as the decelis crowd blends in with the levants on the way out, creating a mob that moves in one stream like sardines. he bumps other students from all over his sides as they all just want one thing, to go out of the goddamn place. that’s when somebody slams onto his body with too much force, his abdomen pushed by a heavy item as he arrives at the open area where the crowd disperses. the person who bumps him must not be too far from him as he turns his head before something heavy rolls against his foot.

a can with a photo of a cat at the front?

jay looks up from the can that rests on his foot to find a girl crouching down, picking up similar cans in her hands before putting them into the plastic bag, a black plastic bag.

when she turns her body and walks away, jay finally realizes who she is. who he bumps into—well, who bumps into him.

the girl he saw before by the auras. you.

your figure retreats as he picks up the can before it got destroyed by people stomping on it. straightening his body, he glances at a few girls walking in front of him in levant‘s cheer uniform. the girl who sat beside you is one of them.

“so you’re just gonna let your sister walk away like that?” one of them said. seeing the girl clearer as something pops up in his head. familiarity.

“yeah, what a weirdo.” another said before they all looked at the girl. he tries to match the face with the name that he knows he recognized.

“let her be. i shouldn’t force her to sit with us.” her voice says as they travel away to the school building. jay stares at them as the name and face click in his head, his eyes glance to look at your retreating figure. connecting the last puzzle piece to find the connection between the two of you.

as a partygoer and a dealer, he has a fair share of people he recognizes either by buying his stuff or just by popularity. she is in the latter category.

jay knew the girl’s name is somi, and she is a senior. he can assure himself that he knows the face and, now, the name. he wasn't aware that she has a sister.

is that why you were so estranged?

jay’s head turns towards where you go as his tall stature helps to find you turning a corner outside the field and on the main street of the school. his legs instantly reacting as he chases after you, his backpack on his back while the can is in his hand. he almost lost you, a few seconds behind your figure. you turned away to a corner as he arrived at the intersection, disappearing like a ghost walking through a wall. but when he arrived at a small street right near levant high and don’t see you, he walks ever so slowly on the asphalt road. an entrance to an alley is visible in his view.

jay peeks from the corner to find someone crouching in the empty small alley wider than his wingspan. an abundance of fluff surrounding the figure, realizing the dark blue blazer the figure wears.

you.

meows surround you as jay also hears the sound of cracked open aluminium and you dropping the contents near the alley’s wall. the animals enclose as they all lean down to eat the food you give. jay steps in closer as he sees you tilting your head at the stray cats eating their food. the salty smell of fish filled the air as he focuses on how a smile formed on your face. even though he only saw a half, he can know yours is a pretty sweet one like a few of his friends have. his shoes moving on the ground creates a few scrapping noises that make the cats’ ears perk but haven’t moved their heads yet and focus on their food. the hand holding the can have sweat forming on it.

he steps closer as carefully as ever, doesn’t want to distract you or the cats and kittens he sees enjoying the feast. but his nose twitched every time he steps closer so that he could give the can. the felines’ ears perk again as he steps closer, the itch on his nose getting stronger as he tried his best to rub it away with his empty hand.

god must hate him as his face contorts, letting out his manly-ass sneeze.

his eyes immediately open to find the cats all having their fur rising, tails puffing up, and you drop to your knees from your crouching position—a shocked look on your face as it turns to despair when the cats run away from where you both are. your head turns to the cats running to hide as you then turn towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

“ugh.” was all you can let out as you put the contents of the can you held on to the leftovers of the feast. jay looks at you, guilt swallowing him up.

“sorry. i, i wanted to give you this.” he pushed the can to you as you crouched back, eyes squinting at him before you pulled the can from his grasp and put it into the empty plastic bag that you’d put in your blazer pocket.

he sees you moving from your position as you sit on the ground and lean against the wall across from where the cats should be eating. you were tying up the bag with the last can you didn’t notice was not there in your bag. you rub your face with the back of your hand, expecting the decelis boy to leave before you heard the scrapes and someone sliding down beside you. peering from the corner of your eyes you see the decelis rummaging from the pocket in his backpack and pulling out two things—one of them is a lighter.

he puts a stick that looks too thick to be a cigarette between his lips, cupping his hand near the lit flame as he inhales before letting out a cloud of white smoke, head leaning back against the wall like you. you find out the scent you smell is no scent of burning tobacco.

the guy’s a freaking stoner.

jay can sense the burning gaze on the side of his head as he looks to see you peering at him, eyes wandering from his side profile to the joint in his hand. he takes that you didn’t notice his prolonged stare at you, your sight focusing on the stick in his hand.

“a joint?”

jay spoke, feeling regret as he could only offer that. the only one he had left in his bag. his hand recognizes the heat spreading inside the stick as you look up at his face before returning to the item in his hand. that’s when you pinch the stick between your own fingers and he lets go, letting you take a small inhale. he thought you might cough from the unfamiliar sensation but you surprised him by taking another inhale, this time a large one, as you let out a fluffy white cloud.

you can handle your smoke seriously, jay thought.

“you’ve smoked before?” he asked, seeing you pause your hand with the joint between your fingers. he sees your eyes moving from his face to the joint then back, shaking your head.

“cigarettes then,” he said as you shrug, giving out the joint back into his fingers as you turn to gaze at the abandoned cat food, no cat in sight. jay can’t help but listen in on the serenity of the situation. in an alley somewhere near his rival school, deep enough to muffle all the sounds of car honks, people talking, and legs bustling down the street. he stays there with someone who seems to appreciate the serene atmosphere too. maybe enjoying it too much because he hadn’t heard you talk at all.

“sorry that we won against your school. i just have to tame my friend down in the field so y’all can get your chance.” he chuckles right at the end as you shrug your shoulders, a remorseful expression on your face before giving a nod and a thumbs up.

jay takes another puff as the cloud floats to the blue sky between buildings not tall enough to engulf the two of you. the white joins in with the water-made clouds on the blue background. though he enjoys the quietness, it still weirds him out, especially coming from having someone else living with him.

being flatmates with sunghoon and heeseung has its perks, but quietness is not one of them—especially for sunghoon cause he never seems to be quiet because it’s either he, the girl he brought home, his bed, or his wall that creates the noise. coming from a place like seattle was different enough, a place on the west coast of the american continent that, in his opinion, is a balance between loud and calm. but then, his parents decide to move him from a seaport city to a metropolis in korea without their guidance, just knowing heeseung—back then an acquaintance of his because both of their fathers are friends—goes here to decelis high.

jay was a special kid. an only child of a new money family who, by destiny, will be the only one to inherit the wealth his dad has accumulated. his parents know this too: making him go to different classes to learn the most spoken language other than his native korean and sort-of native english; treating him to the highs of life by bringing him to go to vacation in a yacht; and all the craps he has done. but jay has always wanted one thing.

liberty.

no matter what he wants, his parents will always be involved. if he wants a toy car, his dad always bought a lamborghini one, not knowing he wants a BMW instead. when he wants to eat fried chicken, they brought him to a fine dining restaurant at a hotel when all he wants was to eat fast-food fried chicken at KFC. it all seems, to him, his parents don’t respect his own wants and needs; always divert him to the “correct” path so he could stay in the upper-class lane in a minority part of some 400 million-populated united states.

that’s why he agreed to go home to his home country on his own. heeseung—being there—is enough for his parents to trust him. all of that so he can get the freedom he craves.

jay’s savings are always brimming with his parents’ allowance that is much bigger for his liking, believing that their son wants to pamper himself and heeseung if he likes. he is always been a generous fellow after all—giving tips to the minimum wage workers he encountered. but he always lied to his parents when asking about how much money he now has on his debit card, hiding from them he hasn’t spent much at all. because he rather tried to get money on his own.

teenagers like to experiment with other things to find their “true” selves. so it isn’t a surprise that drugs are one of them.

jay always thought that drugs were always a bad thing. but when he discovered that caffeine is also a drug, his perspective changed. drugs are dangerous because of how people want to consume them; it could be addictive, it could be hallucinogenic, and it could be depressant. it can get you high or it can make you travel to another dimension. cigarettes were too common for a drug along with caffeine and alcohol, and he doesn’t want to break people up by making chemical-based drugs like cocaine or meth. he picked the safest and most natural route that gives enough high: weed.

he didn’t expect he got a best friend and business partner who will do what he wants. sunghoon is a classmate of his back from his first year until now. they’re seatmates too back then as they both have the same surname of “park”—the only ones in class. sunghoon told him everything. his parents, being diplomats, made him stay at home with his beloved grandfather nearly two hours away from school. they talked about each other’s struggles to be from such high-status parents that they bond easily. sunghoon’s grandfather was a pretty rebellious kid himself—as told by his grandson—so he allowed sunghoon to live with him and heeseung, not wanting to tie him down.

jay comes to like and enjoy his group of friends. heeseung and sunghoon are his flatmates, jake the jock—though the boy himself doesn’t like the stereotyping, kai the brain, taehyun the quiet, sunoo the friendly, and beomgyu, who is seemingly the de facto leader alongside heeseung. with the inclusion of girls too such as sunoo’s childhood friend and beomgyu’s sister who is seemingly on good terms with heeseung after the debacle between them and her brother. he can see the cracks in the group there, getting more showing as beomgyu seems to be more unexpected than ever, taehyun staying by his side more often than usual.

“so you don’t talk or?” his mouth blurted out as he can only think of one thing with your quiet self beside him. his head moves to examine the corners of your mouth lifted, mouthing “depends” and he can pick up how the air around creates a slight sound from how your mouth moves.

hearing something rubbing the asphalt, he turns to see you’ve stood up, one hand holding the plastic bag with the last can of cat food, the other pulling out your phone from your blazer. as the screen illuminates your face, your eyes widen before you glance back at him. your palm opens, curving motion to him as he puts his palm in it as both grasp with each other and you pull him up with your might. his head moves flowy as you look closer to his face, seeing his iris dilated but not that much as he seems sober enough.

“go home.” you mouthed, no voice heard, as you pat his shoulder before pointing back behind your shoulder and giving him a tight-lip smile with a small wave. leaving him behind with his joint nearly burnt out in between his lips as he stares at your back before disappearing around the corner.

that was the only time he regretted not bringing his skateboard so he can chase you down. but he found another smell mixing with his marijuana. the scent of a rose that could come from one person: you.

-

the thoughts of you show up in jay’s mind sporadically. any time he catches sight of a stray cat. any time he smells the fragrance of a rose. any time he sees that dark blue blazer on a teenager. it’s as haunting as the day he moved here. the looming presence of his parents on each of his shoulders. you’re now in their place.

it truly is weird, he realized. he didn’t know you until that day. the pieces of knowledge he has about you from that minuscule interaction are: you’re a levant high student and, presumably, you’re the sister of one of the famous students in that, (l/n) somi. jay has always learned to stay determined and focused on what he wants. any knowledge or information he could get that is beneficial to him. but it contradicts what his parents allow or don’t allow him to do or act. he is determined to support his group of friends any other way. he is determined to be independent outside of his wealth. now, he is determined to get to know you.

days have passed since you left that alley. he never expected to see you soon, especially with the heightened rivalry of the rugby season. he never said never because as jake said while twirling his rugby ball, “though we beat them. this is still preliminary. they can come back.” he could still find you someday, sometime.

but the universe said otherwise when he did “errands”, with only a couple of packages left to deliver as he roams the street downtown, passing by buildings of stores when he recognize the arcade heeseung introduced to him a week ago. and the group of dark-blue-blazer-wearing girls crowding a claw machine outside.

the haunting starts once again when he sees the blazer. but this is different. one familiar head stood out to him, the only quiet one in a group of cheering girls, as one of them successfully got a plushie. all except for her.

“great job, lily!” he catches one of them saying as he steps to the side, somehow hidden, but he can still listen to them.

“thanks, guys.” he heard the distinct australian accent—something he’s familiar with from hanging out with jake a tad bit too much.

all of their figures covered the last girl as they faced away from jay. the only one not having their hands full wrapping the plushie. the tallest out of the three approaches the girl. his eyes widen as he realizes who is being hyped up.

“come on! you can do this, (y/n)!” the girl said as she shake your shoulders. you give a tight-lip smile, seeing how tense your body is as if you’re holding something back. another girl with long hair pulls out a silver item from her pocket—a coin glinting under the sunlight. he views how each member of your group kisses the coin with you holding it and giving the ultimate kiss. you push the coin into the slot as the claw machine hums. the girls surround the machine, obscuring him from the prizes.

he was also holding his breath as the claw moved from the joystick you were handling. big shifts to the upper-right side before you do small jerks, adjusting the claw to your chosen prize. the anticipation kills him as he can only watch the descending claw before it’s concealed by the girls’ figures. he waited and waited for at least a che-

“four out of four!!!!”

your friends were jumping around as you kneel to get your prize, laughter flutters in their space from the surprising yet expected outcome. what he can’t believe is that even you laugh, the corner of your lips rising as you smile the widest he has ever seen. but it doesn’t last long as your curved corners fall. when he looks up at your eyes to see them focused on him.

you grasp onto your new—not surprising—kitten plushie, hugging it closer to cover the lower part of your face. your eyes fluttering away from his eye contact but your head is still facing his way as if you’re blanking his existence out of your mind and presence. the sudden change in you felt like whiplash to him, but it’s as if your friends expected it to happen as they near you before guiding you to walk away from the machine and arcade; leaving him with your lingering sense once again. smell, and now, sight.

jay didn’t expect so many orders from levant high students after the game. usually, an influx of sales came during sports season but no influx is attributed to a specific school—he wonders if something happened for them to want to try weed. maybe it’s because of that new tv show filled with teenagers doing unexpected shit, or people trying to experience something new other than cigarettes.

he had to wander from here and there around their area for about a week now, delivering the goods. sometimes finding them in hidden places like a dark pc bang near the rows of shops a few blocks from their school. sometimes in the open at the usual skating park he goes to. it was a wonderful week for his business out of the expected great season he hopefully gets in selling. but it’s also a busy one as his business partner is pining over multiple girls. yes, plural. changing one right after the other any other day. he will not be surprised if his dark circles will be more prominent in the following days as the sound of banging walls comes from behind his headboard.

twirling his black marker, the wind is blowing his hair out. his body tilts and balances as the skateboard beneath him rolls on the roughly-textured flat surface of the sidewalk. he looks at the approaching high walls of his school’s rival, the sea of students splitting up from his way before leaving specks of them as he nears the gates. the boy sees a bunch of people by the bus stop when he stops and kicks his skateboard up to grab it. pulling out his phone, he awaits his last customer’s confirmation of their whereabouts. their last message was to meet him by their school entrance.

jay’s sight wanders around the environment before his feet brought him near the front gate of the school. the benches that line up the road are vacant—he remembers his friends and him waiting there before the match where he is left. the students must have gone back to their respective homes to make them so vacant, but there is no sign of his buyer. that’s when he thought he misheard something.

sniffles.

surely spring’s weather causes people to have a runny nose and make them sniffle it up. but this one is not that. heck, there’s nobody he passes by while he is there listening to that faded sound.

jay turns to find the source before landing on one site. a figure folding its body forward is sitting on one bench obscured beneath the shadow of a tree. their hands covering their face as their body shook from the uncontrollable emotions flowing out. the sniffles getting louder as he nears them. but the scrapes of the ground each time he steps closer didn’t help. the person lifts their upper body before wiping the fallen tears on their cheekbones.

you.

you rubbed away your cheeks multiple times as if the stain still sticks, nibbling your teeth as you look away from the boy in front of you. the sound of a crunchy plastic bag is heard from beside you as he sees the glimpse of aluminium cans inside. his mind returns to how your eyes gazed at him a week back. first with annoyance, second with caution. today, with overwhelming foggy grey resembling the dark clouds waiting for its time to drop rain.

“hey-“

you stood up from the bench when jay called you, grabbing onto your belongings and walking towards him on the almost non-existing dirt path. you stride past his body away as your steps increase in pace, faltering away outside the gates as he turns around. something you have done to him twice. though he is under different circumstances: he doesn’t need to follow you. all he can do is leave you behind to deliver the goods and get his money. or he could follow so he can comfort you. because, though he only knows you as that levant girl who gives food to stray cats, he never offers somebody his roll.

as if he can smell your rose scent as a trace, he frowns before following your retreating figure meters away from him, opening the text to his customer before saying.

“fuck u for ghosting me. u’ll get ur goods tomorrow.“

jay can’t use his skateboard to get to you as the street is full of people. moving around people waiting for the crosswalk lights to turn green, around customers buying street, and any other person of all shapes and sizes. but his tall stature helps him see you at the edge of his vision, catching you turning corners before he runs to get you.

jay heaves as he turns the last corner, his shoulder leaning against the brick wall as he slumps—he regretted not joining the weekly jog jake does along with sunghoon and beomgyu. eyes looking down at the asphalt while he catches his breath, he uprights his figure so he can continue to follow you.

“for fuck-“ he jumps as he sees an apparition in front of him.

you standing right before him.

an unamused look that is unnatural in your bloodshot eyes burns him. yet, for him, it makes sense.

you nibble your bottom lip as you gaze at him, tilting your head, silently telling him to speak. jay never felt this startled that his senses are hyperaware—even he can listen to chirpings from blocks away.

“i wanna offer to help you give out the food.” he made up something as best as he can. yet, he can see from your eyes that you weren’t believing him completely.

“you know, repaying what i’ve done a week ago?” he rubs his neck.

you killed it, jay. for god’s sake. he thought. he can easily turn around before he embarrasses himself again. jay has never been bold to comfort someone. but you intrigue him. you intrigue him so much more than the crush he got on his classmate back in the first year, before sunghoon got her first and hook up with her. how you are, allegedly, the hidden sibling of one of your school’s popular students, is shocking in this day and age where social media and people prying on people’s privacy are normal. yet, you don’t even seem to talk at all and you’re not treated the same as somi is in your environment.

you push your hand out, open palm, as you sniffle back your leftover emotions. with your other hand, you point to the name tag on one side of your blazer.

(l/n) (y/n). the same last name as who he can now confirm is your sister.

“i’m jay.” he shakes your hand with his before he sees you tilting your head again, looking towards his chest. he follows your eyesight to the name tag on his blazer that is written park jongseong.

“it’s my birth name,” he replied before he caught your hum and let go of his grasp. you use your chin to point towards him before turning around, signaling for him to follow you as you grab one can from the dangling plastic bag and push it to his hand.

he tried his best not to scare any feline you’ve called or approach the two of you as you open the canned food, especially trying his best to not sneeze. you and he walk around one neighbourhood full of stray cats as one by one, the weight of the plastic bag lightens with the now empty cans being put inside to be put away and recycled.

in the last alleyway he and you travel, the adult cat there seems to have known your presence, approaching you when you walk closer and rubbing against your legs so you can lean down and pat its head. squeaks and tiny meows enter his ears as he looks at a cardboard box that is lightly shaking. jay approaches closer alongside you as you put the can with the leftover food for the cat, crouching down to see a litter of kittens inside crawling around and even attempting to climb outside the cardboard box. the scratchy sound of the claw against the box’s texture seems to excite the other ones so that they all wake up.

jay felt something wet on his hand as the cat—the mother of the kittens—smell his scent before rubbing her head on his palm, allowing him to pat her head and body gently. you let yourself sit on the asphalt alley as you picked up the kittens outside and onto your skirt-covered lap, hearing your small chuckles along with the kittens’ meow as they scattered around the two of you. he follows suit as a few of them approach him and even climbing onto his skateboard as the kitten’s stance change from the swaying board.

the serenity he recognizes between the two of you comes back in his mind as he stares at the fluffy felines who approach him and then you. one of them seems to like you enough that they stick to you while their siblings wander towards his sitting space or eat with their mom. the sun above them is now falling towards the west as jay enjoys a moment he hasn’t done before. knowing his parents’ “overprotectiveness”, he could never play outside, let alone play with stray animals.

“thank you.” someone says before he lifts his head from a kitten on his lap to you, who is glancing at him. he didn’t even realize it was you who spoke before he is a beat too late.

“she speaks!” jay exclaimed as he sees you pout, shaking your head. as you continue playing with the kittens that are surrounding you. picking one up to put in your lap, you let the kitten playfully bite onto your finger as he stares at it, wondering if you felt the pain from the bites or if you're benumbed by it.

“so, correct me if i’m wrong, but your sister is somi, right?” he asked, which make quiet down before you slowly nod, the corner of your lips turned slightly upside down. yet, jay doesn’t notice and continues his tangent.

“how has anyone not known of your presence?”

“i like it that way.” you cut him off. you sigh as you grab the kitten’s small body off of you, scooting closer. it scared you that your voice might be too soft so he couldn’t hear. well, you rarely talk after all.

“my sister and i are two different people.” you spoke to him, so soft and so articulated that he can hear a certain accent that you have. “what you presume about her cannot be the same as how you presume about me.” you tilted your head away, not wanting to lay your eyes on him. yet, your voice envelops his mind with how pretty yet haunting it is, especially from your quiet persona.

his mind recalls how somi is one of the people in the wealthy crowd. how, technically, you can be known as a chaebol, feeding from the silver spoon that your parents have served you. an old money family and maybe much wealthier than his own family. you lean your head to face him once again, your eyes staring his way but avoiding his own eyes, lips pouting as he gazes at you.

“maybe i’m much more like you,” you said, looking down at your palm before putting two fingers up from one of your hands, resembling how one holds a roll of cigarette right in between the two before they're being grabbed by the kitten as it bites them once again.

you give the kitten on your hold the last few pats before putting the feline on top of his skateboard, letting you scan the scratch on the top side which is dark-coloured, even finding a shoe mark on it.

“why are you here, jongseong?”

jay gulps his saliva down when he heard you call him by his birth name. even with your low-volume voice, the empty atmosphere of the alley lets him hear your words, and it sends shivers down his spine. he never felt this nervous since he tested to go to decelis high. the vision of the future is blurry but he knew that when he passed, he will be happier. but, he just now realized how he has pinned you unconsciously into a box and it terrifies him you notice. he had no choice but to tell the truth.

“you interest me. seeing you cry makes me want to comfort you. seeing you alone on that first row of the crowd catches my eye. seeing you with your plastic bag full of cat food makes me intrigued by you. seeing you here, living your life with a quiet demeanor… you know what i’ll say next.” he let out his thoughts and all you can do is give him a small smile.

“well…” you put your hands on top of where your heart is. chuckles flow out of you, shrugging your shoulders as you let your sight wanders to the alleyway that is only you and he in it.

“it’s funny, innit? how you can easily fancy me when i don’t even try to?” you commented, biting your bottom lip as you accidentally let out the slang words you tried your best not to speak out after moving back here. your gaze goes to his skateboard, “though i am intrigued with riding a skateboard.”

jay’s eyebrows rose from your comment, signaling to him how you want to try it. “you don’t know how to?” he confirmed with your shaking head.

“then, i’ll teach you next time.”

“will there be one?” you glance between your uniform and his which he catches. though you don’t join in on your school’s pop culture, you knew about your school’s rivalry with decelis high. if there was a history of high school fights outside of sports and formal competition, it would be between decelis and levant. though that tradition has dwindled, the tension is still there. that’s why both of your schools tried their best to compete; academically and in other ways. you remembered there was a romeo and juliet situation between both schools way back when and their relationship help with erasing the fighting tradition between the two students. but, there is still an unspoken rule between levant students to not have relations with decelis students whatsoever.

your sister told you to stay away from them after her terrible memories of hooking up with a decelis student. how erratic they are, but they’re also one of the nicest people she knew back then. she knows how narcissistic they are after a few times and now she warns you to stay away. hence, your comment that the boy seems to understand too.

“outside of school grounds. outside of the uniform. you and i, okay?” he replied. the sound of a ringtone playing startled the kittens around him as he picked up his phone. a “shit” fell from his mouth as he answered. you heard him talk about what you can assume to be the weed that he introduces to you but there’s no reason someone calls him about it. does he know someone who sells it?

one of jongseong’s hands wraps around one of your wrists as he uncapped his marker hastily with that same hand—as if he is learning to do that for efficiency. you feel the tickle and moist of the marker on your skin, seeing him writing something on your forearm as you hold it in place while his phone is pushed against his ear. he stopped writing as he holds onto your hand until the call ends and he puts your arm back on your thigh before standing up.

“i have errands to do. sorry for leaving you behind,” he answered, and you helped put the kittens back in the box as the mom jumps in and immediately groomed them. you see the boy already on his skateboard, ready to push his leg and skate away.

“call me, kay?” he gives a small smirk before letting out a last “see ya.” he skates away from the alley, leaving you behind as you unrolled your blazer’s sleeve, seeing the phone number written on your forearm.

-

you miss the home that you had for a decade.

you miss the salty smell of the sea blocks away from your front door and how effortlessly you can go to the pier to take a break from your increasing-in-level studies. it is because you’ve always seen it as a mistake for your parents to bring you back here to seoul, deep down knowing just how much they don’t acknowledge your well-being here. it is as if you haven’t left that town in the first place, seeing yourself as another cog in their clockwork.

brighton is a small town compared to the UK’s capital and not as larger-than-life as the urban metropolis you live in now. but even a place that small can mean so much for a little girl like you who can compare the two. they sent you there after all and you don’t know the detailed reason why they did it, even when you’re in the clouds thousands of meters above the ground. ‘how can they let you go so easily?‘ you remembered yourself pondering, watching the people turning into ants as the hum from the plane continues to sound before it became a common buzz for your ears.

fragmented memories appear in your head as you reflect on how close you are with your sister, somi, back then. “two peas in a pod”, as she likes to say it; always stayed by each other’s side. both of you play house together in a dollhouse your parents bought, do random activities in your backyard garden such as making tea parties, and swim in the large pool your mansion owns—submerged by both the sound of nature muffled with the sloshing water. yet, none of your parents is in your sight during that thing, making housekeepers serve you as they focus on their other child: the conglomerate you will inherit in the future.

or so you thought when your parents bring you along to the airport, assuming that you were going to say your farewells to your uncle and aunt that were going back to the UK—instead of only the couple going home, they have one more person who they brought with them.

somi was too young to give an opinion of letting her younger sister go, wanting her chauffeur to bring her to the airport instead of her elementary school after he told her you went there—something her parents have told him not to tell as they know she will be in a rage, or “nag” as they like to call it. she believed you stayed home because you were sick, not noticing a suitcase prepared right beside your bed as she left you asleep while smoothing down her uniform. as the years went by, she has to live with only chunks of you in her mind having fun while going to school, being self-taught by your parents business jargons, and learn how to manage things such as her stuff; an early management training to early for one’s liking. for the longest time your parents separated you both, she thought they also taught the same thing as her too.

you always believed that they might surprise visit you one day after you came back from primary school, expecting to find your sister’s grin and her suitcase with a different colour compared to yours at the front door of the house you reside in. you’ve wondered if your parents have forgotten you after a year there—making you think they see you as a mere relative—while you know have adapted to your aunt and uncle being your parent figures instead. they taught you everything you needed outside of what you learn in the education system, but seemingly not involving you in the business side of things that you’ve known before. much different from the complicated words somi has to learn back home when she enters elementary. you don’t even remember if you have ever seen your uncle taking any part in the family business, only describing to you the concept of a family trust and how you, he, and your aunt own a part in it.

at the dining table in your last year of primary, your uncle finally told you why you were here.

“it’s because your dad found a successor in somi, like how your granddad saw him back then.“ he then points between you and himself, “we are the spares of the family, (y/n). though we do have a voice, especially in the voting trust, they won’t and don’t give us access to the family business, no matter how useful it is to have more than one family member working even in there.“ your uncle continue as you glance at your aunt, giving you a small nod and a solemn smile.

you grip your utensils, realizing how left out you are, like a pain plunge into your soul as your uncle chuckled, “just like the royal family, only one can be the highest monarch. and our family is running on the same first-child basis as what they have here."

with that knowledge out of the way, you accepted your status. you accept that you’re a trust fund baby and you may lavish on whatever money you can get from the piece of the trust you own. then, you’ve planned out your future. how you will spend your adolescent years here, going until sixth form, doing a-levels, entering a prestigious university here, and then doing whatever you want for the rest of your life.

that is until your parents called you to go back home to korea when you’re entering year 10 of secondary school.

there is fear within you when you face them for the first time in a decade. comparing when you left to when you arrived back is weird, how unfamiliar all of this has been, even though pictures of the environment outside of the window of the car still look the same as the ones burn in your memory; especially not knowing the motives for why they sent you away other than they see you as a spare. yet, they also don’t give any explanation on why they want you back. in a blink of an eye and a step towards them, you don’t know what to say or do in their presence.

you’re not a talkative person per se, one of the quiet ones in your class back in brighton and even quieter now. but the anxiousness grows as you went to the mansion you used to call home, how you watch more housekeepers roaming around than the ones you remember they have. then when you and your entourage arrived, you finally meet your sister wearing her high school uniform. and you couldn’t openly say “hi”, giving only a small wave, to which she replied with a small smile. your sister grew up beautifully, especially with her blonde hair that makes her appearance resemble a barbie doll you both used to play with together. still, you don’t comprehend what your parents are going to do to you and you stayed quiet about it until these days.

going to levant, they expected you to follow what somi is doing by everyone around you. blend in well, be part of the popular kind, go do cheer, wear feminine accessories and style, and you did so because you’re worried—still are—that they’re going to spare you away once again. in your mind, this was a way to redeem yourself, to show them they’re going to regret sending you away. back in your first year of high school, you still have a glimmer of hope that they see you differently and will treat you differently, unlike what your granddad does to your uncle and your dad. but going to school here changes what you thought of as something bad, is now much, much worse.

your quiet demeanour back in brighton allowed others to bully you, but you thought it’s what kids do—joking around about someone different from them in any aspect—and you fought back. you wanted to use your family name as a shield when you realized they know nothing about it other than the global company your family owns. so, you persevere. you tough it up and face them by not caring about them. and they accepted you, the quiet alien who likes cats because she said she relates to them so much, into the in-group enough that you have a small circle of friends. but here in seoul, the level of toxicity sky-rocketed and you never felt it boil your skin until you see what they do in cheer practice.

eavesdropping from people, you only have two choices after seeing your fellow schoolmates’ drooping faces and awakening stress: you are going to either join the tradition or be an outcast. your sister chooses the former and her family name doesn’t help either—setting an obvious target on her back. when you caught wind of this, you got even quieter, silent, and stealthily wanders under somi’s shadow. yet, having a sister for cheer captain, you can’t say you don’t have privilege of how your senior treats you. but when you see the other first-year students being overwhelmingly harassed at practice behind the coaches’ guides, you choose to stay silent verbally, but your action contradicts it.

you embrace the other three that seem to agree with your plan—lily, haewon, and yuna—as you all tried to expose the toxicity of the cheer group: collecting evidence from photos and audio recordings before sending it to the principal anonymously, and all of you agree to quit right after sending it. the senior cheer members have a smug smile when they know that their weakest soldiers have fallen and left the squad, but they didn’t expect you to leave, somi didn’t even if she lived in the same house as yours; your room is in the other side of the house from hers. that was the first and only time you’ve used your actual voice to them. that was the only time you ever felt powerful against them before you fade again into obscurity.

the comfort level between the four of you lets you try to speak to them, and they’re so nice to you, letting you set your own pace to open up while the others also do the same thing. lily’s accent caught your attention and confirmed when she said she moved here from australia—she has the same reaction when you spoke and caught a bit of an accent and slang words in the way you talk, haewon never fail to crack your group up from her funny expressions and jokes, while yuna brings out the sassy yet sweet aura of the group. all of you stayed together throughout the first year and even got closer as you all are assigned to the same class this year.

your outings with them become more of a routine, how they give their free time to help you give out food to stray cats, go to the arcade, and other things. being the spare, you embraced your inner princess margaret and start to slowly defy what your parent expects from you, which you now realized because they want you to become somi 2.0. if they don’t want you as yourself, might as well make you like their ideal successor. well speaking of it, that is what they told you after you came back home too late for your parents’ liking, even though somi, who is a year older than you, is still out there.

“you either going to follow what we want of you, or you’re not going to have a piece of the company.“

gladly, you thought. but you remain silent and it is slowly frustrating them. you now knew your fear and anxiety can become a weapon against them.

you differentiate yourself from your sister, most of your clothes—all were somi’s hand-me-downs—are given to your housekeepers for them or if they have a child back home. you dressed more down-to-earth, quiet literally, with earthy colours that clash with your sister’s extravagant pastel blues and pinks. and you don’t care if your parents tell you their grimy, plus earthy colours look more business-savvy. you always use your pocket money to buy can food for stray cats at least once per week, getting your emotion sucked up by playing with them and giving good to beings that also live on this earth along with humans.

but even under a strong and mysterious persona, people perceived you in ways that they see as negative, calling you a weirdo, a black sheep, a failure, and comparing you to your sister behind their backs. and it all seems to break down when your carpool doesn’t arrive to get you home, seeing the text from your assigned chauffeur that they were fired. they were supposed to be on your side as they waited for you to finish giving the cats food and vouch for you. that day you finally broke down, the pressure from inside rising to get out of you.

that is until your second encounter with jay which makes you see a different light of him.

annoyance came to you when his sneeze scare the cats away, like what bloke can sneeze so loud that it rivals your uncle? nonetheless, when he offered you his roll of weed, you accepted it and you wing it. deep down, you were smirking at how the way you smoke makes him think that you’ve smoked before it is actually your first time, and you don’t care when the buzz reaches your head, sending you into an almost foggy state but making your senses hyper. he must have a high tolerance for being able to ride a skateboard while high, seeing the board with wheels poking out from beside his body when you caught him at the arcade.

but when he approached you in your most vulnerable self publicly, you didn’t expect him to utter those words to you. at first, he seemed to want to banter with you about what happened a week prior. but the fact that he fancies you is unexpected. a decelis high skater and stoner—definitely a bad boy type—finds you intriguing. no other person is as bold as him. sure, you have a few crushes yourself, but you always get the confirmation of people having a crush on you after the feelings were gone. no one has ever openly confessed their interest to you. and now, you didn’t know what to comment on other than the obvious fact that you’re also intrigued by him. but you both live different lives, going to rival schools, and you should not even be seen with him at all.

when you see the clutter around both of you, the skateboard was the only way you can catch him before he slithers away, and that’s what he promises you to do if you text him about it. so now here you are, the floor below you carries you higher and higher before the elevator lets out a “ding”, opening to the destination floor you’ve pressed the button to.

you look between the text he sends you and the apartment number as you walk down the clean and gleaming hallway, hearing the sound of scratching rubber from the trainers you’re wearing. eyes scanning the plaque, you slow down your steps as you arrived at the door with the number he texted you. you press the bell button as it is muffled behind the door, giving a small smile at the front door. a click sounded as the heavy door opens, and an almost recognizable girl behind the ajar door peeks out. she’s wearing very comfortable clothes that are too big for her figure—something you see yourself wearing—but her hooded eyes catch your attention. it looks as if she has been asleep and the bell you pressed has woken her up. but her upbeat demeanour says otherwise.

“hi, you must be the guest jay’s waiting for,” she said as the door widens. her hand outstretches for you to shake as she lets out a small smirk. jay didn’t tell you that she lives with a girl before, or maybe she was visiting to take a rest.

“you can come in, he’s in the shower.” the girl speaks as you follow her inside the apartment. shoes litter on the front of the door as the girl tried her best to tidy them up while mentioning her name, not catching it clearly as she moved away. when you step inside, you were met with a large open living space and a herbal scent mixing in the air—your rose scent is obscure by it. a hallway stretches as you see four different doors, but one side of the open space catches your eye. four tidy pots of plants rested on racks, the leaves creating almost like a bed but hollow underneath. your eyes follow the way the plants are structured, how jagged the leaves are, and how only odd numbers of them grow on each stem.

wait…

“i don’t smoke them.” you caught the girl say beside you. “but they do. they sell it actually. hoon and jay,” she continued as you turn towards her, making her neutral expression quickly drops.

“you don’t… know…” her words got a shrug from you as she chuckles, “i thought you were here to buy one.” you shake your head and wave your hands a no.

a boy’s voice call for the girl’s name from behind you, eyes widen as you now recognize who she is by the name that you should've asked her to repeat. that’s when you turn back to find one of the boys jay is friends with coming from one of the closed doors—you know because you’ve seen his face in a few photos from jay’s profile. he approaches her as you tried to distract yourself away from their conversation, taking a pretty long time before you heard her voice say, “i’m not leaving her behind. we can stay here first, right?”

“who’s her?” you glance at them.

“her.” she points to you as you give a tight-lip smile and a small wave.

“oh hi, didn’t see you- wait? aren’t you (y/n)? (l/n) (y/n)?” the boy said as you see his hand wrapped around the girl’s love handle. your jaw almost dropped as you realize the signals they give to you. staring at them as discreetly as possible you now realize who each of them is. the boy is heeseung, the famous student council president of your neighbouring school and after jogging the familiar name of the girl, you realized that that’s the name of beomgyu’s sister—her style and vibe almost resemble him in a way when you inspect her further. how you know about her is because of what your sister told you about her brother—her having a bad sentiment that you understand. you sure hope she’s not as shitty as her brother. but, you didn’t realize they’re exclusive to each other until his smooth moves.

“guilty.” you mouthed while showing a thumbs up.

heeseung lets out a giggle as he stares at you before turning to the girl. “jjong told me about her before, babe. you know?” he said before you see her eyes enlarged, letting out ahs and oohs as she then whispered into his ears. your body shrinks as you glance at them before looking away as fast as you can. the fear inside of you slowly grows as your mind flew everywhere, even taking a dip into your darkest thoughts that you’re always reminded of.

“guys. your giggles are creeping her out.” you heard a voice from behind them as you lean to the side, seeing the boy you were waiting for as you timidly wave. you scoot your way towards him, realizing how similar both of you dress with your grey-tone t-shirt and blue jeans combo. the boy seems to suspect something as you sensed your body being dragged towards him by your forearm. the couple looks at each other as they noticed their friend’s small initiation, letting out smiles to each before turning towards the two of you.

“good luck on your date, jongseong.” heeseung said as he lets out a charismatic smirk. if your eyes can get widened, it would as you glance at the boy beside you, seeing him with an unreadable expression.

“we should have a double date, triple i guess if hoon wanna joins but eh…” the girl said, a look of jokingly disgust on her face makes you chuckle inside before jay turns his body and walk towards the door. the atmosphere suddenly tightens as you turn to follow your hangout friend and skateboard trainer to the front door of the apartment.

“(y/n)?” your name is called as you turn your head towards the source. heeseung and the girl let out a solemn smile.

“i don’t know what kind of my magic you got to get my boy that whipped for you. but take care of him, okay? he’s been a lot more cranky these days.” heeseung answered as he glance at the girl beside her as she continues, “he only told us two about how he’s felt towards you. per what heeseung said, he hasn’t been this serious with someone since his best friend… yeah…”

you blinked and gave tiny nods to tell them you listen to them loud and clear. the mention of his best friend and how she paused her words makes you pierce a mental thumbtack in your memory. though you don’t know the detailed sentiment, you caught that this best friend of his—“hoon” as they like to call him—has meddled in his love life much more than jay’s liking.

giving a nod and a smile to the two, you return to the front door as you see jay tying his shoes up. besides where you crouched down to put your own on, a cabinet door opens as you catch two skateboards inside in an upright position. one is more decorated than the other—the one you recognize he brought when you both feed the cats. a shadow of jay’s stature steps near you as he pulls out the skateboards into his hands before pushing one towards you when you stand up.

“this is my spare one if this one gets broken. it’s the same model so it should be alright.” the boy explained as you pick it up with both of your hands, the weight of the wood is not as heavy as the cans of cat food you bring in your plastic bag—a few of them are in the backpack you’re wearing cause you rather be prepared than say sorry towards their cute little face for not filling their appetite. jay lets out a small smirk as he grabs his own backpack and tucks the skateboard between his arm and body.

“shall we?”

-

the street of seoul reminds you of brighton as you both walk on the pavement, sightseeing square-looking buildings in a street that is big enough for only two lanes going opposite ways. in a way, you’ve tried to embrace the “you from the past” now as best as you can. maybe your parents firing your chauffeur is a blessing in disguise at a point that you’ve tried to push yourself for nearly a year now, letting you take back the independence you used to have back in your aunt and uncle’s. in your house today, only your housekeepers care if you’re home or not but they also vouch for you if you go to the city by yourself—coming from the little acts of kindness you’ve done to them. the last day of the weekend is—of course, as crowded as usual. you gaze at the people going out with their families and friends to refresh their minds for the two days they have, and as you both walk near the han river, it seems that skateboarding is one way they refresh.

the skateboard on your hold is a tad bit slanted as you always repair how you grip it. the sound of rubbing on concrete decorates the area that is made of slopes and curves—the view of the river is marvellous and you immediately understand why this is jay’s favourite skate park. skateboarders of all diversity make the indents on the ground more colourful with their outfits, their boards, and a speck of street art on them. dangerous tricks such as kicks and spins make you grimace, catching the boy’s attention who is beside you.

“i will not teach you that. unless you’re fucking with me and you’re also great at skateboarding.” you let a chuckle at his comment as you stray from the main path of the han river recreational area to go to the skate park. when you both arrive there, you see people greeting jay in various ways, shouting their hellos, waving their hands, and giving him high five or fist pumps. seeing them in green cargo pants notes you to buy them and put them in your wardrobe—bloody hell, they look great. your eyes gaze at how smoothly they’re riding their skateboards around you, making your fingers fidget while holding the same thing in your hand.

“hey, we’re gonna put our bags and start, alright?” jay speaks to you right beside your ear. you turn to see how close his face is to yours, very close. you gaze at the faded freckles that decorated his cheekbones, his sun-kissed skin illuminated in the afternoon sun before your trance falls away as you give him a nod and go to the bench that he puts his backpack on. your shoulders are much lighter than before because of the less weight, you roll your shoulders to stretch them up as jay puts the skateboards right by his feet. your palms are getting sweaty as you tried your best to wipe them off. what if you fell? what if you’re reckless enough to do a mistake?

“so, do you have any experience with boards of any kind?” he asked as you tilt your head while stepping closer to him.

“i can ride a bicycle, not exactly a board but balancing on something, right?”

“yup. so…” you see him rub his hand as he drags the skateboard he lends to you with his foot, rolling it to put it in between the two of you. “we’re going to start with balancing. you’re gonna step on the board and tried to balance as best as you can.” he said.

you gnaw the inside of your cheek, staring interchangeably between the boy and the board between both of your feet. your experience riding a bicycle sure helps him calm down, but you didn’t mention that the last time you rode one was back in year 7 when, after a certain incident, you just haven’t thought of buying another one for yourself anymore. the tingling of the scar on your pelvis from falling off your bicycle comes back as you don’t know if you’re balanced enough for this.

as you put one foot on the board, it trembles under you. how different it is that you have to learn how to manage your weight and how much should you put on the surface that has touched. your hands are wide enough for you to get your sense of balance, lifting them as you focus on your feet more. when you felt like you’re ready enough, you lift your other foot off the ground and put it on the board beside yours. the adrenaline coursing through as you thought you nailed it on the first try, no need to embarrass yourse-

the board slips under your foot as hands hold onto both of your arms. you breathe rapidly as your heart thumps as if it’s near out of your ribcage. your reaction to one of your feet slipping to the ground came late as you finally hissed from the pain surging through your nerves, looking up to catch jay’s furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you. you knew from his eyes what his concern was and your nods seem to calm him down as his grip on you lessen.

“hold on to me if you need to, okay?” he reminds you as he drags the board to your feet once again and this time, you lean to what he said. one of your hands in jay’s as you step onto the shaky board one step at a time, letting him guide you upright as you stare at your feet once again.

“(y/n)?” you tried your best to stop your wobbly legs before looking up at him. jay’s face has a look that screams determination as he holds you with both hands near your elbows.

“eyes on me, okay? it’ll help with your balancing because of your center of gravity,” he tells you as you gulp down your saliva. breathing in and out, you straighten your posture enough as the board is getting not as shaky as the first time you rode it. how your eyes stay on his face is getting your cheeks warm, even if they’re looking downwards to your feet.

jay helps you to find your balance as he then teaches you how you use your foot to push the board for it to move, and how the board moves left and right depending on how you put the weight on your feet. and even if he felt confident that you can roll on your own by the end of the day, he didn’t expect you to nail it on the first try. you didn’t count how much you failed to roll and balance on the board; each time comes with you jumping from the moving board or slip off to the ground. with each accident, jay comes running to catch you before you fall or pull you up to your feet when you fell. but every time he sees you fall off the board, your chuckles always fill your presence. how nonchalantly you take this challenge and how you took this practice session as if you are having fun. and when you nailed it, he couldn’t help but clap as much as he can when you turn around and roll on the concrete before stopping in front of him.

“you did great.” he says as he pulls you close, not minding the proximity because of how close you two had been the entire time when he holds you to not let you fall. and you seem to not mind it either as you mouthed a “thanks” before you caress the back of your neck, letting you take a rest.

the refreshing water runs down your oesophagus until the very last drop. you work out your ankles from how hurt they are been mostly from slipping, resting them on top of the skateboard that you used as it drags back and forth following your movement. where’s jay, you asked? you heard his whoop as you stare at his figure flinging all around the slopes. how effortlessly he does aerial spins and kicks his skateboard 180 degrees before landing it perfectly. jay performs as if he is all by himself, with no one to bother him as he tries the tricks he has up his sleeves, but you have a nagging feeling that he is doing it to impress you too.

when jay is skateboarding away at the other side of the area, you let your vision gaze at the other people in your vicinity and the main path right beside the skate park. people riding bicycles, pushing strollers, and jogging goes by that path before you see people cruising down the path on a board, similar to a skateboard, albeit longer. that’s peng, you thought. skateboarding like jay is doing might be too daredevil-ish for you. maybe riding it that way will give you the same senses but much more relaxed.

“what’s peng???” a voice startles you as you found jay now standing beside where you sit, drinking his own water bottle before sitting down beside you. you don’t know if he’s asking you the thing that is peng or the definition of peng, but you answer as best as you perceived.

“i saw people cruising down the path with a board, but a longer one?” you quietly speak so only he can listen to you. he replied with a hum as his eyes landed on the path as more people on boards are riding on that path before going to face you.

“it’s a longboard, the one they’re using. skateboards are shorter but you can cruise with them too. i definitely see you do that more rather than doing tricks.” your eyes follow his movement as he looks down at both the skateboards under you. a chuckle came out and you mouthed “definitely”. you lean back and rested your hands beside you on the bench, seeing the blue sky that is drifting to the west, with the darkness coming from the horizon. you peer beside you and see jay taking a glimpse of you.

“so how is today’s lesson?” he playfully asked, as if you’re literally someone under his care, a trainer asking for feedback. to be honest, even with your hurting ankle that might cause unintentional consequences, this moment is the most brighton thing you ever felt in a long time. though you don’t want to undermine what you and your friends have, hanging out with someone new outside of the dramas in levant is refreshing.

you can only give a thumbs up which he replied with a wistful sigh. jay grabs onto his bag before zipping open the front pouch, letting you take a glimpse of two different boxes, one you’re familiar with and the other that is customized. he grabs the customized one and opens it for you to see the thick rolls of joint inside, pulling one out before closing it and replacing it with his lighter. jay expected little from smoking weed openly in a place full of people smoking, but he caught your glance and it immediately intimidates him.

you give him a small pout as you shift your head. the look in your eyes shines with panic and concern. jay understood what you meant whilst he pull out the joint from between his lips and returned it to the box before grabbing the cig box he kept, replacing it so he can blend in with the others. “much of a daredevil, aren’t you?” you commented as he flicks the lighter and put the flame on the cigarette butt.

“well, you’re right. that’ll be stupid of me to get caught having a joint on me in public areas where people can see,” jay spoke, smoke coming out of his mouth. he offered you the cylinder as you brought your lips to it, taking an inhale as the smoke warmed your mouth before pulling back and slowly letting them go. jay was holding his breath the whole time before he took another shot of the burning substance.

“is there a reason you like weed more than cigs?” you asked, genuinely curious to know from the amount he might consume not even for a week but a day of it. the perception of him being a stoner quickly changes as you now learn that he also makes them too, in his home for bloody heck.

“i like the high it gives me.” he answered with a general answer for a stoner, “and to spite my parents.” jay peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. your body, at once, turns rigid when he mentions ‘parents’. all the memories you had about your parents crawling up in your mind and enveloping your vision in it.

“is that why you decide to sell it too?” you catch his enlarged eyes as he looks between the burning cig that is halfway down, before towards you. you reaffirm his unspoken question with a nod before he exhales the air he was holding.

“i’m trying to be financially independent being left alone here. my parents living in seattle have been pampering me so much it annoys me, you know?” he told you as you analyze it. how by the words he said alone, you can conclude: how wealthy his parents are, how he has been holding back from indulging in what he wants, and how he has lived outside of seoul. none of that information is present in his instagram profile—you feel dodgy when you see the well-built apartment he lives in, but it’s still not enough of a prediction for past you. you give him a small nod, learning how similar yet on the different side of the spectrum both of you are.

“what business does your family run?” jay lets out a tight-lip smile as he turns to you after finishing your question, puffing out the smoke from the cigarette before stretching his hand towards you once again, allowing you to take another hit.

“travel agency. helping tourists on their vacation in various countries in asia. providing tour guide, setting up tours, et cetera.” you let out a smile as your tongue rubs the residue of the cigarette that rests on your teeth. how sticky it felt you’re familiarizing yourself. you definitely need to brush your teeth as soon as possible when you get home.

“if you know somi, you must have heard my media conglomerate family then. though i’m not the one they're pushing to stay in the limelight like she is.” you let out as you nod as you giggled. “crazy how similar we are, huh?” your comment takes his attention as your giggles die down. the sky above you is darkening as the streetlights are turning on, yet you both didn’t want this to end. but even that, he thought it was not the right time to ask you to elaborate.

“so in that apartment, you live alone?”

“nah. heeseung and sunghoon are my roommates.” jay closed his eyes as he sees the faces of his friends in sight. the ridiculousness of their attitudes back on the bench they always hang out on at school. “we have this gang of friends at school, all nine- well, ten of us now that always hang with each other.” you let a hum as he continues to introduce his friends.

heeseung, other than the council president of decelis, is his roommate whom he has met back when he lived in the US—their fathers are friends and that’s why he allowed the boy to live with heeseung. sunghoon is his best friend—the “hoon” guy you’ve been hearing—has his troublemaker ways. jay mentions how sunghoon is his business partner, helping to send their orders away and more of the one that works in the field. but when you see him mentioning his best friend, you can view how his eyes turn fiery—heeseung told you how cranky he has been, is it because of him?

he continues introducing you to the other people in the gang. kai is a debate club member. his talkative nature makes him a great person who could convince people in an argument—he gave an example of the guy being the mc for their family feud-style game night. jake is the captain of the rugby team this season—you chuckle at how he still apologizes that your school lost against them as if you care about it. he mentions how many of his friends—nearly half—are part of the film club. he mentions sunoo and his best friend, who he describes as the sunshine siblings because of how playful they are. taehyun, who is their documentary guy, loves his camera, and brings it with him all the time—you might view yourself in him. then beomgyu, the star actor of the club. the most famous senior in the school other than heeseung as he explained.

“and beomgyu’s sister who is now heeseung’s girlfriend. they had a mess in the beginning and because of that, beomgyu’s not been around us for a while now, bringing taehyun with him for his bidding.” he lets out a sigh, finishes with bitterness on his tongue as you let out a wide smile from how he looks knackered just for describing his nine friends.

“i could say the same to you about my three friends though we don’t seem as chaotic as you guys are. they’re lovable, sassy, funny, and determined at the same time. we met in the cheer squad before all of us called it quits.” you brush your hair as you stare back at him, your smile turning sombre as the mention of them brought you to the haunting memories of constant harassment.

“that’s why i saw you beside your sister back in the match,” jay spoke enthusiastically before he turns towards you, your eyebrows already raised.

“no- no, i didn’t stalk you. i just saw you, okay? your sister ruffling your head before she left to do her routine.” he described perfectly what happened at the match as you give the benefit of the doubt about him. that day, your sister was trying to convince you to go back to the squad again. but the way you catch them treating your junior like crap, you were pissed off. you only come and attend that match so that it’ll be easier to give out the food for the felines. you didn’t think anyone notice it, especially from the school that you’re competing with.

“we don’t have the best sibling relationship. family things,” you spoke out the fact. taking yourself back to how you’re overshadowed by your sister’s presence and how you want to escape it. even with how much you avoid being associated with her, people still know you as her sister.

“i feel you, though not the sibling one ‘cause i’m an only child.”

“that’s unlucky. new money sole successor. no wonder your parents are pampering you so much.” your comment earns a laugh from jay as he nods his head, knowing that is the truth he carried. “i can’t say much being a trust fund baby with parents that neglects you.” you retorted as you gaze back at him.

“my life isn’t as perfect as you think it is.” the sun has now sunk behind the surrounding skyscrapers. the bridges that carry motorcycles, cars, and underground trains passing by make a beautiful silhouette. usually, by this time, you were supposed to be at home. but since your housekeepers help vouch for you and your parents are having a big board of directors meeting—usually takes hours to finish—they won’t snitch on you. they haven’t snitched on you even when you were with your friends playing in the arcade until midnight and later on.

jay drops his cigarette and puts it out with a step of his foot before you gaze at him, eyes looking all over his face that is illuminated by the streetlight behind you. the skaters dwindled in numbers as only a few people are on the slopes—the ones that are brave enough to trek the dark and uncertain curves with lights at the bottom.

“it’s getting late and tomorrow we have sch-“

“can we smoke a spliff?” you cut him off, pausing him before he looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

“are you sure?” he asked once again, hands already pulling the box where he puts it. you instinctively nod.

“i don’t want this to end yet,” you tell your sentiment as many thoughts have infiltrated your mind. maybe the buzz can help you calm down more. your eyes stick to the edge of the slope as you hear the flick and light coming from beside you. jay take in the newly lit spliff before giving it to you as you took one puff yourself. it circulates inside your mouth and the grass scent is catching you off guard before you let it out. it’s warm but you know you’re gonna get the buzz you’ve felt again.

your head seems heavy as you take a few more puffs of the roll, letting the quiet atmosphere calm you down. the drug urging you to speak anything that comes into your mind. “you know,” you straighten your sitting posture, “that time when you offer me your spliff, i haven’t actually smoked before…”

“the fuck?!” the boy exclaims, unhinged just like you do as you sense the buzz in your head pressing down the anxiety and fear that always culminate in your mind.

“yeah…” your words roll out. how your senses heightened as though you’re still sober but with how heavy your head is, you let it relaxes you.

“you were so good at it though,” he remarks as you let out a giggle.

“do i? to be honest, i’m just winging it back then. i didn’t understand shit.” your giggly reply makes him giggle too. seeing the white smoke floating and disperse into the darkening sky makes you stare at the buildings all around you. their illuminated windows resemble faux stars that decorate the night sky. you always like to stargaze, sitting on the sand of the beach as you stare at the stars from your position by the ocean waves. it is one of your favourite past times there and you always tell your aunt where your whereabouts will be and if she’ll be searching for you. the lights in seoul are too bright for you to stargaze, but you might as well cherish anytime you could get outside of your house, especially with people you are comfortable with. jay included.

“why weed? why not… pokemon trading cards for a business?” your ridiculous question earns a chuckle from both of you—your sober part now realizing how talkative and giggly you are under the influence. jay runs his tongue on his chapped lips as he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. his foot fidgets with the skateboard under your feet, swaying from side to side.

“finding an opportunity in an almost empty market segment, you know?” you heard him use the business jargon your parents also use as you pursed your lips. holding back your laugh, he is the one that hooks you up to let it out. your head is lolling away from the times you take a hit from the blunt and you’ve also noticed how relaxed jay looked, he used to fidget all the time—playing with his fingers, playing with the tip of his toes inside his shoes, nibble on his bottom lip—but now with both of you under a much stronger influence, he seems decent enough and much more hyper about his sense.

taking the last hit for both of you as the flame consumes the rest of the joint, the grassy stench of the substance overwhelming your sense of smell, almost vegetable-like as you wave your hand to get rid of the surrounding scent. maybe you’re not thinking straight enough, but you reached for your bag and pull out your perfume: rose-scented that you’ve been wearing. though it smells heavy now, you found a lighter-smelling one back in brighton that makes you like the scent and you regretted not buying a bulk of it to bring here.

spraying it on your wrists and neck, you rub the spots as the aroma masks the one you’ve been smelling. you glance at the boy beside you who is also sniffing the air, a content smile on his face. hand instinctively pushes the item towards him. he looks down at it before looking at you give a smile. jay picks up the perfume and sprays it in the same spots as you did, rubbing them before giving it back to you.

“this is much better than the musk scent i usually wear,” he said as you let out a chuckle, a dry one to be in fact, which you follow with a cough. that’s when your nerves are aware of how dry your throat is. when you reached for your bottle, you were met with the lightweight material with only droplets inside.

“think i should head home. i’m freaking parched,” you told him as he covers his mouth before facing you and nods. when you stand up, you can now feel the weight that shows up from your head. but the evening gusts of wind help your eyes flutter open as you picked up the skateboard before something touches your elbow. jay holding you before you straighten yourself up.

“try riding it on the main path,” he comments as you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, leaning in closer to him as you recognize your usual rose scent on him.

“are you fucking crazy? i’m not even great enough to skate and now you want me to do it high? freaking dammit jongseong.” you shake your head from his challenge as he then holds both of your shoulders, letting you settle down from your almost tamper tantrum.

“it’s the best feeling in the fucking world, (y/n). believe me.” jay stares right into your eyes. how the building lights behind you shine in them like it reflects stars. how big his pupil has gotten to resemble the night sky. he turns your body as you see white lights decorating under the bridge by the main path.

“that’s the convenience store. we’re gonna buy some stuff ‘cause i’m also getting hungry.” you poked your tongue inside your cheek as you glimpse at him. “you can do it. i believe in you.”

you let out a small, uncertain smile as you nod, letting yourself out of his grasp as you both walk towards the now emptier path. jay sets down his own skateboard as you fix the straps of your backpack. the figure of the boy dashes on the path as he stood on his board effortlessly. ‘fuck it‘ you said to yourself as you push the board like how jay teaches you, giving a few more pushes before putting both feet on the board as you tried to balance the best as you can so it goes on the straight line, eyes looking forwards rather than how your body moves as you let yourself adjust to the board that rolls beneath you.

the wind from the kinetic movement blows your hair as it flings from your face. you can be helped but to let a whoop from the air strike your skin, making you more alive and awake than ever. the figure before you now stand looking back towards you as you notice him laugh, letting you go past him as he follows you to the store.

arriving in the convenience store—putting your skateboards upright near the bicycle stands—you stroll around the shelves along with jay. going to the fridges and freezer as you pull out an ice cream and a bottle of cider before turning around to search for jay. his head pokes out from behind the shelves from his tall height as you find him with the cashier, looking at the reddish food in the warm display area.

“you want tteokbokki? my treat,” he said as he stares at you already with your cold items and him with a coloured soda in his hand. you hadn’t had street food in a while from how strict your food regimen is at home and the broth-full lunch at school. but the way the rice cakes rested inside that chill-powdered sauce, you could imagine adding cheese in there as saliva appears inside your mouth.

“buy a big one for both of us and also add cheese.” you turn to him as he lets out a wide smile.

“yes, ma’am,” he replies as he orders exactly that to the cashier attendant. both of you waited by the counter as you see the display behind the cashier for the adults, full of cigarettes and condoms. jay and you stood side by side as you both waited with the view. the awkward silence between the two of you makes you turn to face him. both of your minds seem to be telepathically linked as he turns to see you too. the white, almost blueish tint of the store illuminates his skin differently than the sun, colder. but the freckles on his cheeks stand out more. you can’t help—with the courage from your weightlessness of reality and consequences—to reach up and caress his cheek. his eyes enlarged as you turn your body to face him.

“your freckles are pretty.” you breathed out, perceiving how cold his skin is from your palm as you heat him up. seeing how at first he hesitates before leaning in fully into your warmth.

both of you sit at the table outside as you eat in silence, sharing the large plate of tteokbokki as you munch up your appetite. for all the moments you sat together, you both stayed silent, not commenting on what you did at the cashier. the warmth of the spicy rice cakes fills your stomach as the cold combats and helps with your dry oesophagus. your usual cat whisperer trait makes a couple of cats arrive and rub their head on your calves, pulling out the can from your bag as you marvel at yourself for at least giving out one for today—it didn’t feel right if you don’t.

for you, the high has died down significantly as you’re now in your usual quiet state, eating up your food as best as you can as you compare it with the tastes you’ve tried. you don’t know if buying it is the right call for eating spicy food but you were parched back then, and not sober.

“fuck, i can’t. tomorrow’s school again.” jay groans before he hisses, his lips swollen because of the spicy food. he looks up as only the broth of the tteokbokki is left on the plate. “i should bring you home…”

you shook your head and disagree with him as you left to pout. even if the high has died down, some leftovers of it are still left circulating as you mouthed, “i can go home by myself.”

“you probably still have the after-effect of being high and you’re going to be alone at fucking night, (y/n). please…” he grabs your hand that is still gripping the chopsticks, catching your attention as you stare right back at him. “let me take you home.”

indeed, he did as you stroll back home, the ice cream in your hands as jay holds the skateboard you used while his own is peeking out of his backpack. small talks were made between the two as you stroll in the night's dark sky. you wanted to tell him how you have been going home late at night, especially if you hang out with your girls-around a month ago you did just that as you all played in the arcade until midnight and more. but seeing his concern for you made your heart flutter, and by hanging out with him, you now understand how much of a stubborn person he is—dragging you in one way and another as he trained you to learn how to skate. as you walked by the neighbourhoods, you can still see people roaming around to enjoy the nightlife. not as late as when you’re in that arcade playing the hammer machine, competing to get as highest of scores as you can between the four of you.

“you’re not as cranky as i thought.”

jay turns his head towards you as you felt the ice cream melt in your mouth, nibbling on the little spoon as he raised his eyebrows.

“heeseung told me something about you and sunghoon.” you heard him scoff as you mention his friends’ names, looking forward at the expanding pavement in front of you both.

“oh he’s…” he lets out a sigh before continuing. “hoon is pursuing so many girls at once he makes me have to work double to manage, pack, and deliver the goods.” jay brushes his fallen hair to the back as you continue to step into the night together.

“he’s an interesting character to know. nice guy but he likes his dick wet a lot so… i kinda see how hee said i’m cranky.”

“yeah, notice your eyebags are a bit swollen. sunghoon’s a fucking wanker…” you exhale towards his friend as he laughs because of it.

“i expect it to happen—his room is beside mine after all. but i didn’t expect he could even fuck for more than thrice a week.”

“that is dodgy as heck. is that your spliff’s side effect?” you chuckle as he gives you a side eye before rolling his eyes, seeing it as an answer to your carefree question.

both of you walk and you enter a more secluded neighbourhood. houses covered by high and thick walls as you climb the stairs on the pavement from the sloping terrain. you gaze at jay, seeing his eyes wandering around the houses that differ greatly from the apartment complex. the steps slow down as you near a wooden gate, the white lights of the exterior illuminate the house in a colder manner rather than your neighbours with their yellow bulbs. you hummed as you titled your head, letting him know this is your stop.

“thank you for today. though i’ve been such a crap.” you lean against the wooden gate as he shakes his head.

“no, i’m proud of you, really,” he replied as you put your hand where your heart is. you turn to your phone and text one housekeeper you trust as you don’t want to ring the bell and tell your parents of your whereabouts tonight—if they’re home. the light shines on your face as you write the words in and send it, quickly glancing towards jay who hasn’t left yet. you see his mouth open as he speaks.

“i… do you wanna do this again? you could get used to the skateboard then we can hang out at some places. maybe i could introduce you to my friends, even ask your friends too to hang out with us. i mean, you seem to be pretty friendly with hee’s girl back in my fla-“

you lean in and press your lips on his cheek, stopping his continuous tangent as the number of words faded out. leaning back, the corner of jay’s lips rises as your eyes flutter. “i would like to.”

the sound of the gate opening catches you off-guard as you step back to the small door the housekeeper has unlocked. jay’s eyes still gaze at your retreating figure as you hold on to the gate.

“i’ll reach out. good night, jongseong.” your lips pouted as you step to the other side when you hear a faint “good night” from the boy outside. the housekeeper looks at you with a knowing gaze as you both retreat to the mansion, listening to the sound of wheels rolling down the asphalt road down the slope.

-

if one can take a glimpse at jay’s eyes, one could see them sparkle; resemble fireworks. jay stares at the last message bubbles that happened between him and you in class, trying to suppress his smile as best as he can to preserve his appearance, but he knows he can’t hold it together especially since his lips are trembling to not form a smile. hee’s girl is the one that notices it first, sitting down with the exhausted taehyun—his face laying at the desk—right beside her, but she said nothing so that sunghoon could realize something.

“woah, jjong. you’ve been staring at your phone for minutes now.” his best friend said, the boy himself not exactly caring about it as he continue to scroll down the chat before returning it to the Instagram profile you gave him of your own. one that is full of cats and aesthetically no face pics of you and your friends.

“who’s that, huh?” jay sensed his friend nudges his shoulder, making him roll his eyes.

“none of your freaking business.”

“of course, it is my business, jjong. you wearing heart eyes? looking at someone’s profile? scrolling back and forth between your chats? bro…” he can feel sunghoon’s presence closer to him. “tell me who this lucky person is.”

jay side-eyes his friend who is wearing a sheepish smile. he clicked his tongue as he turn his head towards his seatmate, “a girl i’ve been seeing-“

“oh fuck, i knew it,” he exclaimed as quietly as he can, not wanting the teacher to catch him cursing in class. sunghoon lightly slap his palm on jay’s forearm as said boy looks at his friend offendedly. “that’s why you’ve been out more, but without me.”

“yeah, right. you’ve been hooking up with girls left and right. how am i supposed to go out with you, dickhead?” jay stated the obvious before he recollected his mind on what sunghoon is saying. yes, his best friend is right. he has gone out more and it’s because of you.

most of the time you both hung out by han river. him lending you his skateboard as you better your skill in riding it—how he remembered pushing you on it with his hands on your waist. as you get better and better, with a fair share of injuries from falling as he and you tried a few kick tricks which results in you punching his biceps, he can now proudly say you’ve become an excellent skater. you told him you won’t do anything on the slopes and instead, you voice out that you try to cruise down the paths more, taking in the city's view, the flowing water, and the sky above together.

in the three times, other than the first one, that he skates with you, he has brought a few of his friends and met with your friends too. taehyun also likes to skate from time to time—what jay likes to say is “his skate buddy”—if he isn’t busy enough with editing videos, and jake asks to come with him to relax himself before his next matches after having a two-time winning streak. that day, your friends insert themselves into your hangout as they’ve been curious about who this guy their friend is meeting, resulting in the two groups meeting. jay still remembers how jake and lily talking to one another strengthen each other’s accents that make none of you can fully understand what they’re talking about.

other than skating, he also is with you to give out food for neighborhood cats, playing with them if you both have time. one cat stuck in his mind though, a tabby kitten that likes to ride on his skateboard as he plays with him like a baby of his own. he still couldn’t help but sneeze if he stayed too long with the felines, their fur itching his nose. but he tried his best to cover his nose and maybe stay away from them enough just to be with you. now and then, you like to associate him with a cat.

“sometimes grumpy. sometimes menacing. but cute.“

“did you just say i’m cute?” jay replied as he can see the look of realization on your face. he calls your name before he shakes your torso lightly for your answer, only replying with giggles.

yeah, he couldn’t help about his selective hearing when he heard you indirectly compliment him. you have an intimidating demeanor from your first impression, as if you’re coming from addams family but not as macabre. mysterious and obscurity oozes from you, but he is glad you let him in that fog of yours.

“so which school is your lucky girl from?” sunghoon asked, his head still too close for comfort as he infiltrates to scroll up and down your instagram profile. he will thank you for making yourself as obscure as ever on the internet. but he knows his boy won’t give up without an answer or a fight. a “cocky wanker” as what you like to name him. not going to lie, it makes him giggle every single time he overheard it.

“levant.”

“what the- jjong!” sunghoon whispered loudly into his ear. jay’s instinct instantly reacts to his seatmate, leaning away and covering his ear. his seatmate grabs and pulls him in though, head looking everywhere to check if the teacher notices anything. “this is fucking scandalous. no other student here has pursued a levant kid since beomgyu hook up with-“

“i know. this is gonna be a romeo and juliet type of beat. but, hoon…” jay’s shoulder hunches down as he looks at his best friend, not believing what he’ll say to him. “i genuinely like her…”

“bruh, even i’m not brave enough to hook up with a levant girl, man.”

“of course, you only wanna hook up with the popular ones. and please, it’s not like i haven’t seen someone on decelis not having friends with someone in levant. if you helped me deliver to that school more, you could find people in our uniforms too,” jay argues back as sunghoon stops with a stunned look on his face. his phone vibrates just in time as he sees the notification on it.

(y/n): could we meet up today after school? it’s friday after all

“(y/n), huh? seems familiar…” sunghoon whispered beside him as jay picked up the phone and open it. the blinking line in the text box is waiting for his answer. he had a few more stuff to deliver as he had told sunghoon before about his order notes—jay is the bookkeeper for all this—but he deep down knows he’ll be the one to send them as sunghoon probably has a plan to do something with someone today. that’s when a hand perched on his shoulder as he peeks to spot sunghoon in his resting face, thinking to find the right words.

“i’ll do the delivery today. it’s gonna be bad for business if you’re the only one doing so.” sunghoon lets out a small smirk as jay’s eyes squint at him. “bro. my dick will fucking break if i hook up all the time. i’m not a fucking addict.”

“sure…” jay replied whilst chuckling as he stares at the screen before he replies.

coming out of the school, he went his way to the meeting place that he picked with sunoo—the boy’s best friend has something to do after school, so she left him alone. sunoo and jay walk quietly together as they’re both heading the same way.

“it’s weird to not see you with your friend,” jay commented as sunoo nods his head, knowing the sentiment. though sunoo looks soft compared to him, he is very compassionate, especially in his acting role. jay always assume that he would rather see sunoo star in the film club productions than beomgyu all the time. but, he doesn’t want to be biased about it as both of them are his friends. yet, as of recently, beomgyu has been straying more and more now. but he hasn’t thought about it much because he is getting more concerned about how much his order has been increasing since the day of the match. heeseung said that the choi household has family problems, and that’s why beomgyu’s sister has been hanging out at their flat more.

“yeah. she has an appointment with the doctor. something about her allergies making her skin itch, so she wants to get prescribed a lotion to help combat it.” jay hums from the answer as he looks at the boy’s thick paper in his hands.

“new script?”

“revision actually. the scriptwriter made some changes on how the two mains are going to do in their resolution scene.” sunoo replied, “we’re doing a coming-of-age movie a la perks of being a wallflower.“

“nice, can’t wait to watch it,” jay replied as sunoo lets out a tight-lip smile at him, his fingers twitching behind the script he is holding. when they arrive at an intersection with a corner store, sunoo stops as he said his farewells, wanting to grab something to snack on as he’ll memorize his lines. jay couldn’t hold on to his skateboard much longer and when he sees his friend entering the store, he immediately drops it down—gently, of course—before rolling away on the sidewalk. people avoiding him and he tried his best to avoid stationary people too.

after a few blocks, he used his foot to graze the concrete sidewalk as he sees the cafe he went to with sunoo, kai, and taehyun for doing homework together. their usual cafe, cafe 95. as he steps in, he could see a few people in the seats and the barista, a schoolmate of his in the same year, behind the bar with her boss, taehyung beside her. jay didn’t find your face in the crowd and also none of his friends was in any seat.

“jay park.” someone calls him from behind the counter. he sees taehyung man the cashier where the girl is off doing someone’s order.

“hey! iced americano as usual. take away for today.” jay replied as he pulled the right amount of cash out of his wallet before he then caught a bell ringing behind him. he usually isn’t one to turn around, but he is waiting for somebody to show up. and his worry fades away as he sees the dark blue blazer of a certain school before looking up at your face. taehyung has stepped away to do his order as he sees you approaching him by the cashier. you give him a small wave as you look at the cafe, enjoying the vibe that it gives out.

jay sees you standing right beside him, how your blazers touch each other’s, as his schoolmate comes and waits for your order. jay was looking away from his phone as he waits for you when he caught the quiet voices of the barista. combining it with your silent guise, he thinks you were still ordering. jay felt a tug on his sleeve as he looks to see your hand pulling him to the counter where you take your order.

“you ordered?” his eyebrows rise as he sees you giving him a thumbs up. he didn’t even hear what you were ordering, but you were staring at his schoolmate who is doing your order.

“how did you two communicate?” jay looks between you and the barista, bewildered. he genuinely thinks you were confused about what to order—maybe wanting him to help you order because it is his usual place.

“we just… did…” you replied in a small voice, seeing you smiling at his schoolmate who is mixing your drink, staring back at you. taehyung puts his order on the counter as he waits for your order to finish, staring at the vacant poster for a part-time barista position for the afternoon and evening. you were holding onto a plastic bag full of cat food once again as he reaches out to help you carry it.

you turn towards him shaking your head, “you have your skateboard. i don’t want to burden you.”

jay retreats to his standing position as your order arrives, seeing his schoolmate giving a warm smile and a “thank you” which you replied with your own before both of you walk out to go to your usual hang-out place: the seats near the skate park. as you both walk down the street, jay sees the variety of uniforms that he knows of the high schools in around this general area of seoul. the biggest four are decelis, levant, yanggun, and kosmo with each of their signature colors. they mingle with one another as if all the so-called rivalries are just that, a rivalry. all schools are ambitious in their own way, but in his eyes, it’s more of a friendly rivalry than the ones that could cost life or death. if sunghoon is with him right now, he could show him this street full of yanggun students mingling with decelis and more to him.

while he was thinking about ways to show his best friend is wrong, he didn’t see your solemn face.

the walk felt more quiet than usual as he settles all his belongings down by the seats, putting his coffee on the table as you sit across from him, sipping the beverage you order. your lips formed a straight line as you stare at the table before looking at the person on the other side of it. jay observed it all, how you cast your eyesight downwards, your newly painted black nail already looking as if you’ve chipped it off, and how your blazer is hanging on your shoulder; one pull and it falls down your arm.

“i…” you sigh before looking up at him. “i should explain to you that if you want me for my money and prestige, then i can’t give any to you.”

what?

“what-“

“no, hush.” you shush him directly as you let out a huge exhale. “since my parents are busy with whatever they have, my sister and i have got the home by ourselves. sure, it seems like a good thing, right? well, almost every single crappy day, somi invited her friends over, cheer friends, another popular crowd, and boys she’s hooking up with. new person each and every day.” you let out a chuckle.

“me?” you pointed to yourself. “nothing, my parents give me no permission to invite someone over. none of my three friends, heck my sister’s having a freaking party at our house cause they allowed her to.” you rubbed your hands on your face. jay can’t help but remember you sitting at that bench, body hunching as your shoulders shook, muffled sniffles coming from your end. he sees you shaking your head as you let your covered mouth speak.

“all because they see us from the intercom. me coming home at night. that night when you brought me home for the first time.”

jay noticed the intercom at the wall beside the wooden gate of your house, but both of you failed to notice that the camera is on. he recalls how you kiss his cheek and the rest two times he brought you home at night, all of those three times he brought you home. none of them includes pressing any bell button on the intercom.

“you’re the only one that i know who gets my problem. no matter if i’m old money and you’re new, i trust you for this because my parents hate decelis high as they’re levant alumni so they don’t have any connection to you in any way i can think of.”

and with that, your venting session begins. it surprised him to see how such a quiet persona can let out fiery and spicy comments. how burned up you felt from what you called “being the spare”, how you’re not allowed to be involved in your family business. how because of the clear succession plan for the company that is somi and her future contribution, they don’t consider you as any necessary part of the clockwork. how they send you to brighton to then bring you back for no clear reason. how you rather stayed in the UK instead of here. no matter how little the stake your problem is against the world—the stake that is so minuscule yet can be wildly catastrophic if not handled right because of your ties with your family name and brand—he resonates with it a lot. sure, he is continuing what his dad has made, but the way they shaped him up to be like him is a lot like how your family runs things. yet, a small comment from you stuck in his mind.

“if they’re treating me like this, why would they have me in the first place?”

the anxiousness that he can sense beneath that mysterious exterior finally shows itself to him. he understands now why no one other than levant high students knew of your well-being, especially with a popular sister and a conglomerate family. jay now knows why you rather speak with voiceless words and body language. they taught you to be subdued and when you mention your uncle back brighton, jay guessed that he was taught the same thing too. how your opinion doesn’t worth it.

but it all comes back to tradition. family, school, and society.

as he sits there and listens, he sees you broke down right before him. back in your second encounter, his want to comfort comes from a place of intrigue. but now, his comfort comes from affection. how when you shed your first tears, he jumped up from his chair and put himself right beside you, hugging you from the side. jay didn’t care if his blazer got all dirty from your tears and he have to laundry it again, he does it because he cares for you.

because he likes you.

“about your first words to me…” you lean back as he looks down at your bloodshot eyes.

“i don’t want you because of your conglomerate family, your name, any of that. i have those myself. too” his words caused you to roll your eyes. ‘anything is better rather than you shedding more tears.‘

“remember what i said back in that alley with that mom cat and her kittens…” jay reaches and brush your tears with the end of his blazer as you calm your breathing. “how intrigued i am with your quiet demeanor, your priority to give cat’s food, your rose scent that sticks in my mind.”

he crouches down so that your eye line can see right in his, and both of your upper arms are held by him. “i like you because you’re you. i like it if you rather be you than what other people perceive you as. i like the banter we have and any words i like from you that are inserted into my personal dictionary.”

“you like me?” he sees you mouth to him as he lets out an exasperated sigh, seeing you giggle as you sniff back any leftovers from crying. jay bit his lips before he replied with a nod, letting you point to yourself to then towards his chest.

“me to you back,” you whisper as you let out a small snicker before turning your body to face him.

he couldn’t believe how relaxed you look after he confesses and you reciprocate it back. but knowing you, he can sense your palpitations like his own when you return to your drink. your head lifted from your drink as you felt your blazer move from its position, turning your head to see jay pulling it off and folding it to put it inside your backpack as he does it to himself leaving both of your upper body with the long-sleeved white shirt as it outermost layer.

“no attribute that easily identifies your school when we were together.” he reminds you of the rule you both set up. outside of school grounds, outside of uniform, you and i.

you wiped your tears away as you nodded your hand, picked up your backpack, and slung it behind you as you outstretch your hand. jay smirks as he tidies his stuff before putting his hand on yours, pulling you away from the seats in the afternoon sun.

both of you did almost anything you could and always do when you both were together, exchanging his skateboard for both of you to ride, travelling to the nooks and crannies of the city where the dwellers aka cats live, even meeting up with the tabby kitten that left an impression on jay. you both wander to the arcade that he saw you in with your friends, coming across a decelis high student that jay greets as another one of his schoolmates that he knows is going to be a part of the student council replacing heeseung and his cabinet friends. trying to beat one another on a punching game before you both got frustrated on the claw machine—you pull out the last coin you got before giving a kiss and plunging it in for his attempt and when he caught one, he promptly hugs you and exclaimed loudly that you have to cover his mouth. even as the night is getting dark you both continue, flinging from store to store window shopping—jay realizing how you don’t really notice how he uses the high-end brands for his style, to even trying out more street food you haven’t tried before.

as the clock goes near 11 pm most of the stores near where you are closing and he dares you to cruise down the empty street, to which you agree. only the streetlights illuminate the two of you as you tried your best to obscure from crowded places; rather than spending time with the two of you alone. jay sense his energy slowly depleting as he lies down on the one-lane road you both have stayed in, noting the cold night being absorbed into the asphalt before sending cold yet refreshing shocks to his sweaty body, feeling the fabric sticking to his skin. he heard ruffles from beside him as you kneel and then follow him laying down by the street.

“no worries. this street is always empty at night causes the only access to this road is leading is small office buildings.” he reassured you, turning his head to face you laying beside him. “i’ve raced here with taehyun, kai, beomgyu, and sunghoon for a bet on paying the entire gang for eating in a new fried chicken restaurant. sunghoon lost the bet so…”

“yeah?” you turned your head to face him before you lay on your side. the combination of the streetlight and the moon shines on you as if you are sleeping in a forest, well, a concrete-made forest of nighttime seoul. the light shines on your cheek and glistens into the eye facing upwards. even in the dark, he can see the warmth from your gaze. the bloodshot eyes are gone for now as it heals.

he sees you scoot closer before your hand reaches for him, his face, cupping it lightly and softly before you lean down, letting your lips meet his. jay regretted not bringing his lip balm cause he can feel how chapped his lips are comparing to yours. that is before he felt your tongue caressing his bottom lip even with his eyes closed. he pulls you close as he used his strength to sit both of you up, letting him cup your jaw as he tilts his head. you were the one that lean back first, sensing your nose tip against his own.

“can i smoke spliff in your apartment and stay the night? don’t want to go to a bloody party,” you whispered, eyes staying on his. a sparkle reflecting on it from the streetlights.

“of course, you can.” he erects from the floor before he picks you up bringing you to his flat. the walk was quiet in the surrounding environment but warm for the two of you. hands interlocking with each other, jay carries his skateboard in his other hand. sometimes lifting your connected hands to give the back of your palm as the wind blows the two of you, realizing how long the day has been where events happened so much that gives trial and tribulations for both of you mentally and emotionally.

opening the door with the code, he is met with the shine from the various lamps that are turned on to stay alight for the night. by the looks of the shoes, heeseung has his girlfriend here and sunghoon is at home; weird. jay is embarrassed to bring you into his man cave, but you were looking at it in awe. posters of musicians right beside his wardrobe, a perfect set-up for his area with two monitors. stickers on his desk and his bedframe and a picture of a forest illustration that has the words washington, US, on it.

“let me grab you something you could wear so you can wash up.” you nod your head as he gives you the clothes he found in his wardrobe, pointing towards the door of the bathroom. when the door of the bathroom closes, he returns to the room as he tidies up your stuff, and pulls out your blazer before putting it on a hanger.

“yo, jay!”

said the boy fucking jumps as he sees his best friend peek into his room. “for fuck's sake, hoon, what the fuck?”

“geez… just wanting to ask you who’s in the bathroom cause hee’s probably in his mama bear arc and not wanting anyone to wake his girlfriend up again.” sunghoon steps inside the room wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, readying to tackle the nightlife. jay thought his nightlight is enough to not let him notice his surrounding in a scrutinizing way. that is before he stood by the blazer hanging by the wardrobe.

“(l/n) (y/n)? wait, jjong?!” sunghoon turns towards him with a smirk on his face.

“doing it in fucking uniform, huh? my boy has grown up-“

“we didn’t do what you picturing and i’m fucking older than you. what do you mean?” jay retaliates as he sees the mischievous gaze in his friend’s eyes.

“by 8 months, by the way. so because she’s in the bathroom, i should probably see the mysterious girl you’re hiding from me in 3… 2...”

“um…” both of the boys turn to see you, towel around your shoulder as you wear jay’s clothes. the boy sees his friend’s lips lifting as he glances at you. jay can’t help to roll his eyes at how sunghoon is approaching you, curiosity in his eyes.

“(y/n), right? the name is sunghoon.” he sees sunghoon greets you with shaking hands and a wink. while you squint your eyes as he analyzes your face.

“hey, hey. no. not my girl.” jay approaches and grabs you, putting himself in front of you. sunghoon’s eyes squint as he stares at both of you, no look of recognition in his eyes on who you are now.

“wow, your girl, huh? okay.” sunghoon playfully retreats. “all of today’s orders are done but i want you to be my wingman and scavenge partner so i could get laid.”

“i know a party.” you mumbled from behind jay’s shoulder. “there’s a party right in the rich neighborhood area. if you know (l/n) somi before, there is a party at her house right now.” jay turns his head to glance at you, eyebrows lifted. “got the news from another levant student.” you tried to twist as best as you can.

“hmm, smart girl. great inspection. and sure thing i’ll do that.” sunghoon walks past the both of you as jay steps to the door.

“don’t forget a condom, jjong.”

“shut the fuck up,” jay replied as he heard the front door close, turning back towards you as he shook his head before pointing at his sleepwear in his bathroom. you give him a nod as you settle down on his chair, waiting for the boy to return.

after it, his room window opens, jay brought an ashtray out to put in between the two of you. usually, he already has the joints rolled and ready to go, but for today, he lets you try the fresh ones he has picked. you sat with your knees in front of you, staring at how he is rolling the paper with the grass inside before licking the end with saliva, seeing bulge from how many of them inside.

“one each is enough because we always shared ours,” he said as he give one to you and lit up a lighter, letting both of your blunts burn at the ashy scent lets you burn.

smoke flies in the room before being blown out outside the window as you both smoke each joint at your own pace. jay noticed your head on his shoulder as both of you share a joke. how your giggles make his heart flutter more, which makes him gaze at you with hooded eyes. chill, ambient music playing from the speaker of his computer as you picked yourself up from beside him, scooting yourself closer as you take another hit of your shortening joint. sit cross-legged in front of each other, jay watches how the weight has lifted off of you, your pupils blown out as you stare at his, knees touching as he moves closer while tapping the joint to the ashtray, letting the ash fall.

“it’s nice,” you mumbled, eyes gazing down on the messy sheet from where you both sat and lay down. jay hums before you continue.

“quiet. letting go of reality. brushing away any problems.” you talk slowly, the smoke leaving your mouth after you take another puff. “i never felt the way i felt with you before.”

jay straightens up as he sees you reach for your eyebags with your forefinger, brushing away a tear that you left out. he caught your glistening eyes before he brought you into his embrace, letting your face rest on his chest as he took another hit of the burning stick. your body trembles beneath his touch as he can only soothes you with his hand caressing down your back. all of him is warm, from the drug circulating in his body to the way your hand rests on his shoulder blades. jay kisses your head as the grass stench now makes the usual rose you wear faded away.

from where he sat, he can see the backpack you brought to school, watching the small cat plushie keychain that you told him from kiki’s delivery service as it rests against the patterned backpack. he recognizes how much you love cats and he understands why you rather use your pocket money to give to them. how you told him a story about an incident on the road that happened before you move away with your parents, a dead kitten at the side of the road because of them, and how they blatantly ignore it even if your chauffeur wanted to help at least burying the kitten.

“that’s why you care for cats.”

you nodded as you gaze at the skaters, “i see myself in that kitten. at that young age, i knew they didn’t love me as much as my older sister. how they want to hide me at somi’s birthday party when mine isn’t as lavish as hers, then when they send me away, i was too young to not push myself to ask why. as if i was being sent on a pilgrimage on their behalf.”

“i strive to care for stray cats because i could care for them, unlike how my parents are ignorant to me… well…” you lean forwards towards him.

“i’m like that stray cat. you are too, my friends and yours could be counted also. we’re dirty because of the environment we are in and we try our best to survive, jongseong.” jay looks at your flattened face as his brain runs with your metaphor, and how right it can be. “now you know why stray cats like to huddle with each other, right? cause they need a pack to help them survive.”

jay was looking at you in a daze when he didn’t realize you lift your head to face him. your fingers reach for his sharp face as his eyes move to meet you. your other hand putting the joint in the ashtray as he felt his own remove from between his fingers. even with your hooded eyes and dried streaks of tears, you still look as beautiful as ever.

he embraces your cheeks with both of his hands, meeting his lips with yours. the moisture coming from your kiss is getting more prominent as both of you made a mess, letting your tongue battle with each other as you both help each other with your appetite. it is past midnight, and he doesn’t want to bother heeseung in the room even if he’s two doors down, especially with his recovering insomniac girlfriend making him more sensitive to not waking her up.

his hands travel down your back, both heads tilted opposite ways to capture each other deeper, as he pushes you onto his lap before he lies on his back—you on top of him. your fingers are gripping his white t-shirt as he can sense your skin from your own rising on your back. you sighed as his palm met your skin, letting your head lift as he catches a string of saliva between the two of you.

“i never felt the way i felt with you, too,” jay replied with your own words as your high self let out snickers before embracing him back, enjoying how his hand trails up your side as you brought yours to his nape, letting you know how much he is down for you as the flame that burns your joints died down in that ashtray, only leaving the gray matter as your hand reaches for his shirt, lifting it up.

-

you brush your hair away from the mess it gets from being tangled. the morning breeze brushes your legs from yesterday’s uniform skirt you are still wearing. the sun is hiding behind the white clouds as you stepped out into the city early enough to only see people working out—jogging and cycling—on the streets. the blazer that hangs on your torso is thick enough to embrace you in the cloudy weather. you don’t know what you expect when you return home, a messy one or one that is as clean as new?

when you brought yourself out of jay’s embrace and duvet, you find yourself in his shorts and your bra—turning around to find him also shirtless. none of the roommates has woken up as you trek to their shared bathroom, smelling the smell associated with boys from the body sprays and deodorants they have strewn around. your eyes glance at the dark marks on your collarbones and on the skin exposed above your bra, making out until you both got too tired and let sleep consumes you. you recall how you move the ashtray to his bedside table as you bring yourself off of his lap, feeling his skin on yours. you quickly brush your face with cold water, waking yourself up as best as you sense the dryness of your oesophagus.

stepping back into his room, he is still fast asleep facing the open window of the apartment, the chirping birds’ voice coming inside as the computer that played music is in rest mode. you quickly change yourself back into your uniform-even with the blazer that you found hanging by the wardrobe as you heard vibration on a desk. walking up to it, text notifications showed up on what appeared to be jay’s phone.

hoon missed call (5)

hoon: we got an nooise complanann so the partys fauskcing cnaecl.

hoon: shit fuckk ur not answeringn.

hoon: iim crashiinng at sunooo

mom: hey honey, just wanted to remind you that we’ll arrive in korea today. see you in 12 hours. love you, jongseong.

you stepped away from the phone as you catch a groan coming from the boy, stretching out his hands from under his duvet. you reached his side of the bed, giving a peck at his exposed cheek.

“i’ll reach out to you soon,” you whispered in his ear before you grab your stuff and return to your home of a mansion.

even with the text sunghoon wrote—which you can deduct by reading carefully—you expected little that your house tidied up. that is when you’re met with the house as clean as ever. the housekeeper brushing away the wall with soap water as if the leftover of the party is still staining there. when they see you, you notice how spooked they are as you approach, entering the gate when you find out the car park has one more vehicle in place than when you left it.

you gulped as you see the housekeepers around you looking at you, the security guards, and gardeners, all of them pausing in various amounts of time to stare at you, the same look of spooked with a hint of tiredness in their eyes. sighs coming out from you—trying to think as clearly as possible—before you brace yourself and step towards the front door. you knew even if you stepped inside; you’ll be meeting them, especially since your dad needs his caffeine intake as early as this hour. stepping out of the shoes, you held onto your backpack straps as you let your slippery socks let you slide into the room, already feeling the harsh reality coming back when you not only found dad drinking his cup of coffee but also your mom and your sister beside her.

all of their eyes are on you as both of your parents view you with disappointment and disgrace, while somi has an expression of guilt hidden beneath her tired eyes. you hold yourself up with sparks forming in your gaze, teeth-gritting each other as you can guess the conversation you’ll be having based on the historical actions you’ve done to this family and what this family have done to you.

“(y/n). come sit here.” your mom said as you took a step, one by one, to reach the chair she pointed; sitting opposite the two women while dad is at the head of the table. somi’s eyes drift at your figure, her blonde hair looks as dishevelled as ever, but no trace of the party she did last night evidently on her. like the true good kid she is.

“four times. four times and maybe more that we didn’t catch, (y/n).” your mom starts as you gaze down at the dining table. the ice-cold—even your sister also shows one—gazes are stinging you more than the flame inside you, biting in small yet sharp nips as you let them continue. you’ve always stayed silent to them and they feared you for that, but with how your mom continues to scold you, you realize that they’re turning your quiet demeanour into an acceptance—how your silence changes its status to no permission to judge—letting her continue to tell you anything wrong with you, how disrespectful you’ve gotten, and much, much more.

but it brought the anxiety that sits within you up as a shield. your vision and mind haze in an uncertain fog as you try your best to block it; freezing yourself up. everything is running through your mind so fast that you don’t have enough time to analyze anything, but you know that your anxiousness to speak out is why she continues, even with your dad giving in to spoke little comments or adding to your mom’s argument. your eyes gaze on your sister’s as you see her eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as you only see her concern right now. where has she been, huh? you wanted to exclaim.

the way your parents are continuing to berate you makes you stare at your sister and see her with her friends doing the same way with your schoolmate and juniors. your heart beats rapidly when you found out that you’re a pawn in their game.

“you wanted to know why. right? you’re going to be somi’s right-hand woman as chief operating officer. you’ll have a board seat along with her and us as you then going to take care of the new start-ups we required.” start-ups that even you identify aren’t profitable with the little economic lesson you got in the classroom and on the internet. even with the way they mention them, somi looks at them with her unreadable expression to others but you learned, even with that small glimpse, she’s jealous you still got to do something even on a known sinking armada of companies. you don’t know what your parents have gotten you into as all the power-hungry sides come out from behind the masks. now you can recognize the ice-cold gaze somi has before returning to concern: they were teaching her you’re her competition, not her sister.

they’re manipulating her as much as they manipulate you. as much as your grandpa manipulates your uncle. survival of the fittest.

but you don’t want to be subdued like your uncle is. even if he is not involved, he is still smart enough to tell you the horrible telltales from it. you had no choice but to voice out because you’re getting dizzy for not letting the fire out.

“ENOUGH!”

your parents and sister all looked at you aghast. the housekeepers inside the room are also shocked as they look your way. your chair is pushed back from how quick and powerful your stance is, standing up with your hands on the table.

“you are vile. all of you are vile, power-hungry, monsters. i see now that you’re making me your pawn and puppet, just how somi is being taught now.” somi looks at you, eyes widen as she heard you speak now after only replying in short answers all the time. her hands are now rubbing against each other as you held on.

“if you think that i’m the naughty one within this bunch, haven’t you thought about your favourite kid, huh? her constant partying, inviting “friends” over which she hooks up. even last night, she had this fucking party you don’t know that even the police got involved." you let out a villainous smile. you now learned you are that in their eyes. “but you didn’t care. you didn’t care shit about the troubles your successor has done, cause you rather heckle me.”

“(l/n) (y/n)!” your dad spokes scarily, trying to deter you, which he now knows is failing as you stare at him as menacingly as possible. like a tiger chasing after its prey while also fighting another species that is trying to get to it first.

“you don’t fucking care about me. you’re trying to set somi against me and ruin this fucking family, just like how grandpa is ruining it for you and your brother. but now i see it, dad. i realize how you treat me like a spare.” you let out words you’ve been internalizing for a while, your throat slowly getting hoarse as you realized you haven’t eaten or drunk anything since you left jay’s apartment.

“okay, that’s it.” your mom now stand up as somi is looking at the giants in front of her, fury rushes between each of her family when she looks at you and sees how your body is shuddering, eyes looking straight at your mom, and how dry your lips are.

“you have two choices, (y/n).” your mom stares at your dad as if they have been planning for this for a long time. a smirk between the two of them that disgust you so much before she looks back at you. “one. you’ll stay here. we shaped you into an amazing entrepreneur who will follow in your dad’s and grandpa’s footsteps as president along with your sister as ceo. you still live in this house, gaining every inch of luxury and privilege you can get.”

“or two. you’ll leave and start from zero. we will pay the tuition for you until this semester and then the only asset you get from us is from your trust fund, which is enough for you to live by, but we could remove you anytime. find where you live by yourself and no luxuries from this household, including bringing a housekeeper. no joining company parties. no connection to the family whatsoever under business pretences.” your mom speaks as confidently as possible, believing you stay with them because of how quiet equals “carelessness” from every consequence around you. a smile is forming internally as you know the best option you picked. you let out a calming sigh to yourself.

“i’ll leave.” your mom’s smile fades as she returns to look at your dad. “you never even cared for me, anyway. but if you think that you’re going to rid me of the trust fund, just so you know i still have people at my side.” your eyes landed on your sister who has been quiet the whole time. “even your successor.”

you give a tiny nod before getting rid of yourself from the table as you return to your room. pulling out the suitcases and bags you get, you open your wardrobe one by one, not minding to let your room door close before you see one of the housekeepers enters and goes to the stuff you’ve put on top of your mattress, looking at the door to find a few more standing by your door.

“let us help, miss.” you give her a nod as a few others step in and help you clean up, only pulling the things that you needed clothes, undergarments, toiletries, your stationeries, and a few of your memorable items such as your favourite toys—especially the kitten cuddly toy you got with your friends from the claw machine. your room is being ransacked and packed into bags as you finish a phone call when you turn to see somi leaning against your doorframe. you give the housekeepers a nod as you let them do their job while bringing yourself to face your sister. you recognize how grimy your body is, but you couldn’t care less because you rather leave as soon as possible.

your gaze at your sister makes her openly cower before she said, “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you feel this way. i’m sorry for being mom and dad’s favourite child. i’m sorry for not defending you, i’m-“

“hey.” you stopped her as your hand embraces one of hers. her blonde hair looks puffy as if she had it tied from last night’s party. “i forgive you. but i will not forgive our parents for what they’ve done to me any time soon. how labile they are for their choices about me and everything surrounding us. how they don’t feel any wrong about pitting their daughters against each other. but i know…” your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her.

“i know that you’re feeling as anxious as i especially when facing them. and it’s normal. i guess this could be a wake-up call for them as much as it is a wake-up call for you.” you pat her hands as you give a small smile.

“you know what? fuck them, right? we don’t want to be born like so let us just start all o-“

“you’re being impulsive, somi.” you stopped your sister as your eyes gaze at her, shaking your head. “i rather you stay. they love you enough and you’ve been shaped to be one of the most powerful women in the media in the future. don’t waste all of that for me.” somi’s eyes have water in them as you tried your best to hold it in because as much as you want to break down in front of her, you still don’t trust her.

“you’re going to be my woman from the inside, okay? take care of our parents for me.” you rub your sister’s upper arm before she brings you into a hug, a crushing hug that brought you back to when both of you were kids. both of you were too innocent for the machiavellian family and world you were born in. somi’s sobs muffled by your shoulder as you can’t help but let out a tear before you wipe it away. leaning back, you see your sister let out a small smile.

“i’m gonna miss you.”

“i’m still in the same school as you, aren't i? we can meet at school,” you replied, making her let out a chuckle.

she nods her head as you turn to see a housekeeper telling you they’re done with their work. you tell them to bring it to the carpark and give them a small “thank you.” you bring the bags filled with your important assets—notebook, laptop, chargers, et cetera—to the car that is set up for you; knowing that your parents will still lend you one even if they disown you. putting in the back seat as you want to sit at the front, you turn to face the front door to see somi by the steps and your parents at the door, obscure by darkness.

“farewell.” you mouthed to yourself as you sit in the front seat of the car your family owns one last time.

the ride was quiet but exciting for you. a new beginning, even if it was unconventional. the gps is showing where your destination is as the chauffeur continues. the weekend is getting more hustle and bustle as people went out to their own thing and how you’re going to be those people intrigues you. when you arrived by the high-rises of the apartment complex, you give out a text as your car stops. you help the chauffeur pull out your bags from the back seat and boot before you give him a tip. “for a drink, for cig, i don’t know it depends on you.”

“thank you, miss.” the chauffeur steps into the car as the vehicle leaves you by the lobby of the building. you look down at your phone as you tried to text again when you heard his voice.

“no fucking way.” you see jay emerging from the door in his outfit from last night as you give him a tight-lip smile. his eyes wander the bags around you as he asked, “what happened?”

“long story short, i left my house and have no one to stay with so i phone the only person i trust with this.” you stepped towards him, hands behind you as you sway like a schoolgirl. “can i stay with you for a bit? i can move out if i find a unit for myse-“

“you can stay.” he moves closer with a smirk on his face, “if you’ll be with me?”

“i- i, okay. sure.” you let out a giggle. “weirdest way to have a boyfriend but i guess here we are.”

“yeah.” he chuckles and pulls his own phone out. “i gotta call hee first. they could help bring these up.” he widens his arms as you step to hug him in your arms while he wraps you tight, letting him call the others with you in his embrace. the boys and heeseung’s girlfriend all step down as they brought your stuff up when you find the apartment in a chaotic state.

“sorry (y/n), jay’s parents are gonna come over for dinner tonight and we’ve been trying our best to get rid of the plants.” heeseung said.

“i know. i saw the notification before leaving.” that’s when an idea came to your mind.

all five of you help clean the place up along with settling your stuff in jay’s room. the boys tried their best to get rid of the smoke and grass scents as jay makes the meal for the rest of them and his parents. you also did a detour with heeseung’s girlfriend to help camouflage the weed plants—all of them are now on the balcony. as heeseung’s girlfriend left to go home, you are the only that left to help with the little details as the boys are preparing themselves. when you help place dinner—just like how you remember the housekeeper places them—the boys all flock wearing the most academic and semi-formal outfits they have. that’s when all of you heard the bell as jay strays away and goes to greet his parents at the door. you stare at sunghoon and heeseung beside you as you remembered what they mentioned of them.

“they’re protective over jay but they do care for him. sometimes a bit too much like joining in his unnecessary business and all of that shit.”

jay emerges from the front door and you see his parents coming in wearing pretty casual clothes since jay said they check into their hotel after arriving. heeseung and sunghoon greets jay’s parents before they stopped to look at you as jay steps behind to bring you over.

“mom, dad. this is (y/n). my girlfriend.” his parents’ eyes widen as his mom lets out a sheepish smile, similar to his smile.

“nice to meet you, (y/n). he hasn’t told us about you.” his mom greets you positively as you tried your best to reply.

“likewise, mrs. park. we became official nearly a week ago. i didn’t expect to meet his parents so early too.” you tried to laugh it off while weaving the truth. of course, you don’t want them to learn that jay brought you to meet his parents the same day both of you are official.

“of course. i didn’t expect jay to have a high school sweetheart like his parents have until now.” mr. park chimes in as you glimpse the boys snickering while nudging jay’s side. you let both of them stand in and look around the room—you’ve hidden your stuff in boxes and his spare cabinet so that they don’t know you are living there.

their eyes scanned the used-to-be empty space in the living room where heeseung has set up a table for the dinner and then to the balcony beside it.

“is that rose that i see?” mrs. park steps towards. your eyes gaze at the boys as her son picks up the conversation.

“yes. heeseung’s girlfriend likes plants, so we let her take care of plants here too. (y/n) added the roses and chrysanthemums so it doesn’t look dull. so now, we have something to do at home. we wanted pets but we don’t know if we’re free enough to take care of one.” jay spoke the story all of you created to lie to his parents as your eyes land on him. you give him a wink, to which he replied with the same thing as he brought the parents to the table where the dinner is served.

-

jay rode his skateboard down the sidewalk and along the bicycle path of the streets of seoul, pushing his foot against the road so that it moves faster and faster. he almost forgot that his friends wants to meet up at cafe 95 to get an early dinner together before he read the now 11-person group chats. the afternoon sun shines on him as the wind is blowing on the ends of his blazer and his untucked white shirt. he has gone to several places to deliver the goods after school, seeing his fingers stain from the marker. his empty stomach is raging at him to fill up as he navigates through the sea of people.

the cafe’s exterior lights show in his vision as he approached it closer and closer. when he is close, jay slows down with his foot before kicking his skateboard to put it upright, seeing another skateboard similar to his already leaning against the bicycle racks at the front. the one he recognizes is the same model as his own but has a large rose pattern at the bottom between the wheels.

jay pushes the door as the bell rings when he looked at the gang’s usual corner to see some of them already at the table. even sunghoon who is also delivering already arrived before him. he pokes his cheek before stepping towards the counter whilst pulling out his wallet from his uniform pants.

“the usual iced americano?” he lifts his head to see you behind the cashier, wearing your barista outfit as his schoolmate is on the espresso machine, letting him smell the delicious aroma of caffeine.

when you mentioned to him how you wanted to at least try working for your own money, he remembers an open spot for a barista in cafe 95 and mentioned it to you. safe to say you got the job after jimin, the other co-founder of cafe 95 along with taehyung, tests you on their different coffees, and each ingredient needed—something he listens to as you sat on your shared bed, memorizing it like a school test. you have mixed all the cluttered items in his room with your own as it doesn’t look like a man cave anymore. decelis relics being mixed with levants, textbooks that are similar but made by different publishers, and the cat plushie sits by your bedside table. though with not much of a difference on color scheme, you have integrated yourself into his room and his life; making his dull one much more thrilling.

“yes. by the way, how’s the order?” jay whispered to you.

you lean in as best as you can so he could hear. “jooyeon, mako, and ryujin. all done. all deliver. how are you going to pay for the coffee, good sir?” you lean back after answering what he questioned.

ever since you stayed with the boys, rumors are going around about how you’re dating a decelis student known as “jay the stoner” in your school. that’s when you decide to take another avenue and be a part of the operation with him and sunghoon, a delivery staff specifically for levant high students or the ones surrounding it.

“cash. is all of the gang here?” jay mentions before putting it toward you.

“all except for taehyun and beomgyu, it seems,” you replied as you look the side to see all of your friends with him gathering at the corner.

jay gets his change and lets you make his order as he comes face-to-face with his friends. kai scoots towards sunghoon so that jay can sit beside him, facing sunoo who has his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“you’ve seen beomgyu and taehyun?” he asked the two best friends who should know because of their relationship with the film club.

both of them shaking their heads as jay returns his gaze to his other friends who were talking about sunghoon, wondering what his two friends are up to. yet, no other of his friends are concerned.

his trance left as he felt you entering beside him, putting his order on the table. at least for now, jay can still enjoy his friends and new girlfriend all together, excited for what is coming. especially with the movie that sunoo has told about which his film club friends are taking a part to produce.

taglist: @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @reallysmolrenjun @kimipxl @haerinism

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[strayfoxxchan]

Team [Crush] Tactics

Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Major League Gaming AU lmfao

Content Warning: Some cussing, awkward flirting

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: There's lots of gaming stuff in here, sorry! But I try to explain TFT in noob terms for those of you who haven't played.

Tag List: @minnysproutgriffinteddy (It wont let me tag you!)

The crowd was going wild. Thousands had crammed into the arena, their faces glowing with pink and blue lights from above. 

The stage felt too high, and the monitors over your head seemed too massive to comprehend. Your palms were clammy, slipping off the mouse in front of you. You shake them a few times, hoping to dry the sweat and clear the knot building in your throat. 

“Hey, cowboy up,” Cameron, your teammate, punches you in the shoulder. “We’ve got this, and these guys ain’t shit.” He looks across to the opposite end of the stage and sneers. 

“Stop sneering,” you grumble at him, rubbing the spot he’d hit with more force than he’d likely meant to. “You’re embarrassing me.” You feel yourself shrinking into the uncomfortable gaming chair. Ergonomic, my ass. 

A lot of Team Fight Tactics is strategic: building into character types to gain bonuses for your team, understanding where to place each character on the board, and leveling them up to acquire more health and hitting power. If you play your cards right, so to speak, you can wipe the board in a matter of seconds. But much of it also comes down to lucky RNG and quick thinking. 

You know the only way you’ll win this is to calm down and keep your head straight. You have no time for intimidation when the timer is running. Although you play on a team of yourself and three men, Team Fight Tactics is primarily a solo endeavor. Ultimately, you’re also playing against your teammates to win. 

The announcers are chatting amongst themselves over the incredibly loud speakers, preparing the audience for the battle ahead. Before you know it, they’re announcing the teams. As each member of your team called, they stand, wave, and dance, grinning cockily. When the announcer shouts your name, you simply stand, give a nervous smile, and throw a peace sign at the crowd, earning you an eruption of cheers and whistles. As quickly as you had stood, you are back to sinking into the chair. 

You stare at the opposite team as their names are called. 

This is the first time you’ve heard about this team, and you’re positive they’re never heard of you either. It was your first MLG tournament, after all, and it seems to be theirs as well. They look triumphant, proud of themselves for having made it to this point. Their names float through your ears as if in a dream.

But, the last name is called, and instead of pumping up the audience as his other teammates had, he stands, looking directly at you, and winks before sitting back down. Bang Chan, they had said. The name sticks in your mind. 

Before you realize it, the match has started. The carousel is turning, and your eyes dart across the screen, looking for Brawlers. You spot her instantly: Vi walks the carousel haughtily. As the barrier drops, you run. Score. 

Each time the shop pops, you pull as many Brawlers as you can, throwing in whatever Laser Corps champions you can get your hands on. The timer, in the beginning, gives you some time to sort out items, and the auto battles allow you to survey the other team for a moment or two. Around round 3, you look up during the battle, and Bang Chan looks up at the same time. He grins at you and winks again, the overhead lights glow on his dimples. Your heart skips for a moment before your eyes dart back down to the screen. 

“Is he trying to intimidate me?” You say to yourself. 

“Who?” Cameron glances at you, raising a brow. 

“What?” You could have sworn you used your inside voice. 

You continue building your team to the best of your ability. You manage, with some lucky RNG, to grab Mordekaiser, building into him as much as you can. It’s a near unbeatable combination, and your confidence begins to grow. 

Bang Chan’s name shows up on your screen. It’s time to knock that wink right out of him. The battle ends quickly with you on top. Your killing streak hits 9. As it ends, you look up at him and wink. His frown slowly grows into a smile full of fire, eyes narrowed as if to say “You’ll pay for that one.” 

Your teammates are dropping like flies. Their overconfidence has done nothing to benefit the team. The opposing team still stands fairly strong. You’ve been stuck at 90 health for almost 11 rounds. You manage to hold your own for a few more rounds before things begin to go wrong.

It’s 2 against 1. Bang Chan and his teammate, Felix, are still standing. You are all that’s left to defeat them. 

You can do this, you know you can. You manage to pull one over on Felix, knocking him down to -5 health, and you can’t help but to jump up and let out a roar unbecoming of the tiny woman you are, but the crowd erupts. 

It was at that moment, however, that you knew this match couldn’t be won. Felix had knocked enough health out of you that you were down to only 19 hit points, while Bang Chan managed to keep around 55.

As the final battle commences, your heart drops. He’d been building into Jax. There was no way. You bite your lip as you look up at him, not willing to watch your team get murdered.

He meets your gaze, eyes darting from your bitten lip to your worried brow. His eyes soften, a devilish smile playing on his lips. 

You lose the battle in 2nd place. 

The stadium is split nearly in half, some groaning, some cheering, but all spirited and screaming. The host appears on stage, pulling the two of you into the middle by the wrists, raising Bang Chan’s hand high into the air, and leaving yours to the side. As the announcer's words fade into the background noise, Bang Chan moves to stand beside you.

“Hey,” he says simply.

“Hey.” You cross your arms. “Good game.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “What are you doing after this?”

“What?”

“What?” he repeats after you. 

“I-I’m not d-doing anything after this,” you answer his question belatedly, taking a few moments to process. 

“Oh, yeah, good… Cool.” He nods. 

“...Why?” You pause, glancing at him. 

“I was just thinking… maybe we could talk strats after this?”

“S-strats?” You turn to him. “W-what?” You take in his features: his dark hair and eyes, shy smile and full lips, his handsomely carved nose. For a gamer, he looked strong, like he could throw you over his shoulder and run a mile with no effort.  

“Over dinner?” He clears his throat, shaking you out of your reverie. “Do you want to go to dinner after this, I mean?” He tries this again with a little more confidence. For a man who spent the near hour the match had taken winking at and slaughtering you, he was really bad at this game.

“How can you be so smooth yet so awkward at the same time?” You attempt to stifle a laugh, but you blush instead, confident the color of the lighting would hide this. “Is dinner on you?”

“I mean, I did just a really big check,” he motions at the giant piece of printed cardboard leaning on his side. You had been in such a daze, you hadn’t even noticed the announcer handing it to him. 

“Are you just doing this because I’m a girl and I almost beat you?” You crinkle your nose at him, just slightly uneasy.

“I’m not that shallow, but I can’t deny, you’re pretty sexy in a ‘she could definitely take me in a fight’ kind of way.” He shrugs. “I would like to get to know you before I decide to make a move, though.” The confidence sticks this time, making your heart race. “Looks aren’t everything.”

You consider this. “Only if you reveal all your secrets to me. That Jax kicked my ass.” You grin and wink, earning a wink back. 

“Deal.”

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way, you're happy without me... (Chapter 3)

Hunterverse AU

Sy, Walter, Curtis (Lumberjack & the 2 bears) x POC Reader "Havoc/TG"

Ex Dean x Reader

Platonic Sam x Reader

Numerous SPN Characters

Summary:

A simple day of research takes a turn no one anticipated.

Warnings:

Angst and Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Hunterverse AU, Polyamory, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Angst and Romance, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Additional Tags to Be Added

Divider @firefly-graphics Banner @cafekitsune Happy Reading!

You had all decided to spend the majority of the day researching. Six heads were better than one and all that. Sam made himself comfortable in your library after Curtis brought in a table from the garage storage. Dean was surprisingly quiet as he combed through the case file, connecting some leads and gathering their information so they could follow through on them tomorrow when their Fed suits were fresh and clean.

Around lunchtime you decide it was time for you to take a break and check in on your old man. You’re not sure if he knows the boys are in town yet. With the amount of hunters that love to gossip at TPK you can only assume he’s at least heard whisperings of them showing up last night. Knowing your history with them, he most certainly wouldn't have text or brought it up with you on his own. Per usual you’ll have to call and inform him of what’s going on. 

“My eyes need a rest and I’m starting to get hungry. So I’m taking a break.” You announce as you get up from your seat. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Beer if you have any to spare.” Dean requests.

“I’ll ask Sy if he has any left in the barn of his homebrew that’s bottled.” You let him know as you leave the room. You spot Walter in the kitchen as you make your way out to the patio to head to the barn. As you go to pass him by, he wraps a thick arm around your middle and pulls you close to him, laying a kiss on your lips. 

You melt into him, savoring the sweet moment before he pulls back, placing another kiss to your forehead. “Where you heading off too? I thought you were helping with research?”

“I am.” You look up into his azure eyes. “My eyes and stomach decided I needed a break. Plus I needed to check in with Dad. Dean wanted a beer so I was just heading out to the barn to see if Sy had any homebrew left.”

“You sure you weren't heading out there to watch them spar?” He teases. “Maybe get in a little rough and tumble yourself.”

“That does sound tempting.” You husk out. “But I’ll have to be strong and hold out. I really do need to call dad. Why don’t you come with me to make sure I behave and we can all call together.”

He lowers his mouth to your ear, voice low and husky. “What makes you think I want you to behave?”

“Naughty naughty bear.” You tease as you back away from him and open the patio door. “You comin’.”

“I wish.” He grumbles, following you out to the barn.

The sounds of flesh connecting with a mat, combined with deep grunts and groans, as you approach the open barn door, has your panties dampening. You saunter inside, leaning up against the wall as you enjoy the show.

It never ceases to amaze you just how strong and powerful these men are. Although Sy may be bigger in width, Curtis is large in his own right. Both stubborn and strong willed, unwilling to back down unless made to. Which leads to these bouts of competition that always end up with them sparing until someone gets pinned and has to yield. 

“Don’t waste all that pent up aggression, boys.” You call out. “I may need it later.”

Upon hearing your voice, Sy turns his head to look in your direction, opening himself up to allow Curtis to slip his bicep around his neck and capture him in a chokehold. “Say it.” He grunts out, tightening the hold.

“Not gonna happen.” Sy grits through his teeth.

“The sooner you say it the sooner she comes over here.” He replies, winking over at you.

You purposefully yawn and make a show of stretching out your limbs, arms high in the air, back arched, chest lifted. 

“Yield.” Sy states.

“What was that?” Curtis squeezes a little more.

“I yield.” He says louder. “Now get off me so our woman can tend to my bruised ego.”

He releases him and with a speed only he possesses, quickly makes his way to you. He pulls you into his sweaty shirtless body and takes his victory kiss. Leaving you a panting mess when he pulls away, heading over to the bench to towel off and down his water.

“C’mon man. You couldn’t just make me yield, you had to go and make her all twitterpatted too.” Sy yells at Curtis, still prone on the mat.

You chuckle to yourself as you make your way over to the grumpy bear of a man. You make a point to toss your leg over his torso before lowering yourself down, straddling his thick abdomen. You run your hands up his furry pecs, until you reach his bearded cheeks. You lean forward, arching your back, leaving your ass on display, as you nip at Sy’s bottom lip. “Poor Beasty. Looks like the Axeman came out on top this time.”  

His growl vibrates against your core, the only warning you get before he grabs your waist and flips you, spreading your thighs and pinning you beneath him with his hips. “Babygirl, I always end up on top, sooner or later.” He captures your mouth in a brutal kiss. Tongue teasing along your lip, asking for admittance, which you gladly grant. You make out for a bit, bodies dancing a tango you’ve performed many times, before Walter pushes Sy aside with his boot and lifts you into his arms.

“As much as I’m enjoying watching this unfold.” He places you on your feet. “You came in here for a reason. So let’s get that taken care of before you lose yourself to your hormones.”

“Spoilsport.” Curtis taunts as he joins the rest of you. “What did you need Dewdrop?”

“Nothing special. I’m taking a break from research. Wanted to call and check in on Dad. Also Dean wanted some beer. I came to see if you had any homebrew left Sy. Figured I could ask and then call dad.”

“I have a couple bottles left over from the last batch. I’ll bring em when we head inside. Let’s get your dad’s call out of the way and then we can make some lunch. I’m starving.” Sy replies.

“You're forever hungry.” You state.

“For you, Sugar. Always for you.” He winks at you.

“Such a charmer.” You pull your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to call your father.

Only the third ring he picks up. “I was wondering when you were going to ring me. How are your house guests?”

“Hello Dad. I knew those gossips couldn't keep their mouths shut. Yes Sam and Dean are staying with us while they work that vamp case Garth brought us. They’re currently in my library doing research as we speak.”

“I assume the lumberjack and two bears are on this call.”

“You know it.” Sy imparts.

“Good. So I can tell you this and I know for a fact it will be upheld.” Your father quips. “You are to take the damn night off. I don’t want you anywhere near this bar. You all worked the last eight days in a row and helping them Winchesters get that Vamp nest squared away is important. But not as important as you boys making good on your promise and giving me a grandchild or two before I croak.”

“Dad!” You groan. “When are you going to ease up on that already?”

“When you show me an ultrasound picture.” He proudly states.

Your men just laugh. “We’ll get right on that, Sir. You have my word.” Walter apeases him.

“I’m holding you to it. Now get off this phone and I better not see you until at least tomorrow evening.”

You sigh. “Bye Dad.”

“Goodbye, Hun.”

“Well that went a bit farther than expected.” You whine.

“Oh I fully expected him to try and take a hit to our manhood. He was pretty tame this time around. Betty must have paid him a visit last night.” Sy chuckles out.

“Come on, Dewdrop. You can warm my cock while I get clean. Promise I’ll fill you up so good you’ll be leaking me all afternoon.” Curtis slaps your ass and walks out of the barn toward the house. Not deigning to put a shirt back on.

The afternoon was spent with everyone putting their heads together to come up with a plan based off of the information that you had been able to gather so far.

“Listen.” Sy states. Captain voice initiated. “The intel we currently have does not leave me feeling one hundred on a plan. There is no room for contingencies. We need to do some recon during the daytime. If not by us, then by trusted sources closer to the possible nest location.”

“Do you have someone available to do that?” Sam inquires.

“I can give my nephews a call. They’re close by working a haunting a couple counties over.” Walter answers.

Dean and Sam look at each other, having one of their silent conversations.

“Alright.” Dean relents. 

Sy claps his hands together. “Great. Now supper time. Curtis, start up the grill while I get a fire going.” He turns to you. “We still got all them steaks Jimmy bartered with us?”

“Sure do.” You reply.

“Steaks and potatoes it is then.” He smiles mischievously, scooping you up and placing you in a fireman's carry, as he makes his way out to the extra fridge in the garage. 

Dean downs the last of his beer as everyone takes their exit, trying to chase away the tendrils of jealousy he’s feeling. They’ve been happening more frequently since last night.

Sam pauses at the door, turning to look at the sullen face of his brother. “Don’t take forever moping, alright. At least try to enjoy yourself tonight, okay.”

By the time Dean drags himself out back, he finds you all mingling around the fire pit, sans Curtis who is manning the grill while tossing a ball around with Booga. He can clearly see that his brother and Walter are deep in discussion about something he can only imagine is nerdy.  

The sound of classic rock being played on an acoustic guitar has him seeking the source. That is when he spots Sy, guitar in his lap strumming along and serenading you with some tune that has you beaming. Clearly the song has meaning to you because he watches as you dance around the fire. 

You're swaying your hips, letting Sy’s smooth voice run along your skin, warming you from the inside out. Dean can’t help but be mesmerized by your display, caught off guard by how safe and comfortable you must be to just let your guard down like that. He realizes that he’s only ever really seen you like this once and it was a long, long time ago. How blind and selfish was I all those years ago?

Curtis subtly watches Dean out the corner of his eye for a bit, taking in the effect you have on the hunter. He could give him hell for ogling his woman, but that’s just not who he is. “Domesticity looks good on her doesn't it?”

“Huh?” He’s snapped back to reality by Curtis’ question. Choosing to go lend a hand to one of the men that get to call you theirs. 

“When she lets herself go like that and just be.” He tosses the ball for Booga once more. “She looks like a damn goddess luring you in.”

Dean swallows and nods his head. “Yeah.”

“That’s his main objective everyday.” He points to Sy. “Well all of ours actually. Giving her what she needs to just be free, even for just five minutes. She’s so damn self sacrificing, helping any and everyone that she runs herself ragged from the stress of not saying no. Here she’s not allowed to just say yes. She gets a call, we ALL talk about it before a decision is made. Hence why she doesn't go out hunting much or alone anymore.”

Dean just nods along, sipping his whiskey.

“Plus, we can’t have her all stressed out when we're trying to knock her up.” He calmly states. “Not good for her or the future baby.”

Dean chokes on his next sip. “You're trying to have a baby?”

“Mmhmm. Have been. Wanna give her a family. Little ones to love and dote on. Plus we promised her pops and were falling behind on, as we are reminded quite often.” He chuckles to himself as Dean’s mind flashes back to a time that seems so far away now.

I’m searching for the pie she grabbed when she went into the last gas station when my hand bumps a rectangular, non-food- like package that crinkles. I take a look inside and notice a bright pink box that reads First Response Pregnancy.

“Did you grab somebody else’s bag by accident? Why is there a pregnancy test in here?”

“No, that bag is ours. Never left my possession since it was handed to me.”

“Ok. So why is the test?”

“Cus I’m late Dean.” I freeze at her words.

“How late?” I manage to ask.

“Bout two weeks.” 

“We’re always careful. Plus we havent had sex in a couple weeks.” I state.

“Pull out method isn’t always effective Dean.” You snatch the bag from his hands and remove the test. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. That’s why I didn't say anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go piss on a stick now before Sam gets back.”

I set the bag down and begin to pace the room. I never was good at being patient and the longer she takes in there the more anxious I get. What if she’s pregnant? We aren't even a couple. Yeah we hookup when the mood strikes and she’s one of the few people I trust with my life, but a kid?

Before I can spiral further, I hear the bathroom door open. “What’s the verdict?”

She steps back into the room, test in hand, stopping before me. She holds it up for me to see one single pink line. “False alarm. My eggo is not preggo.” She gives me a little half smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

I can’t help but to wrap my arms around her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Beers are on me tonight.”

She burrows her head into my chest. “Make it top shelf whiskey and you got yourself a deal. It’s only fair.”

“How so?”

“It’s your weak pull out game that got us here.” She chuckles out.

I smack her ass for the sassy retort. “I didn't hear you complaining when you were coming all over my dick.”

She looks up at me, eyes full of something I just can’t place, but I really want to figure out. I lean in, running my nose along her cheek when the damn motel door opens. 

“Oh. Shit.” Sammy stutters out. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes.” “No.” We say at the same time.

She gives me a look, stepping away from my body and heading over to her duffle. “I hope you're done with whatever errand you were on Sammy cause I need a greasy burger and a thick milkshake stat.”

“Uh, yeah.” He looks over to me and I just shrug my shoulders. If she wants to move on from our little scare, who am I to tell her otherwise. “I saw this diner just down the road, a real greasy spoon.”

“Perfect.” She grabs her leather jacket and heads towards Baby. “Let’s feast boys!”

The unmistakable beat of Blister In the Sun is filling the air from a hidden speaker, presumably by Sy. "Come on sugar. Hit me with that sweet sweet voice." He shouts.

The smile that spreads across your face is full of nothing but mischief. “Looking for a little razzle dazzle Beasty?”

“Gotta get my entertainment somewhere.” He quips back.

You shake your hips to the tell tell beat, sending him a wink as you saunter over to Walter singing along to every word. You grab his hand and pull him into you. Turning so your back is to his front as you shimmy down his frame. Purposefully grinding your hips against his growing bulge. 

When he moves a hand to grip your hip, you spin on your heel, backing away, crooking your fingers in a come hither fashion. He follows like the sweet puppy that he is. You place him next to Sy, turning over your shoulder to Sam. “Come join the party Sam. I know for a fact you secretly love this song.”

He shakes his head at you, downs the rest of his drink and gets on his feet. You sing and dance around with your best friend without a care in the world. It doesn't matter that you mourned the loss of him. He’s alive and back in your life again. This time you’re not letting him go. Even if that’s only through text and phone calls as he trips around the country with the man you never fully got over.

It’s no secret that Dean broke your heart. Your men have done a great job of stitching it back together. But you all know that there’s still a piece that remains his. Somehow, Curtis, Walter and Sy do not feel threatened by the hunter being around. Maybe it’s because they already share you with each other and have no visions of letting you go. Or maybe there is something they’re holding back? Only time will tell.

This whole situation is all very overwhelming and you're thankful for this moment to just dance around the fire. Watching Sam make a fool of himself while you pull laughs from them all, is just the medicine your soul has been needing.

Your eyes scan over Dean’s stoic frame before quickly moving on to lock eyes with Curtis. “Enjoying the show Axeman?”

“You know it Dewdrop.” He shouts back. “Steaks up, so why don’t you shake that ass over to the table. It’s time to fill you full of something to soak up all that whiskey you’ve been sippin’.”

You blow a kiss in his direction, before sashaying your way to the porch, Jet and Booga hot on your heels. Dean swears that your eyes caught during the motion. Wishful thinking that maybe it was for him too. You are clearly feeling the effects of the liquor in your system.

You take a seat, dogs surrounding you as you watch all five men set the table. As you lean forward to grab a plate to fill, it is quickly snatched from your hand by Curtis. “Sit.” He growls out. “You’re not moving a muscle unless it’s to place food on your tongue. We have promises to make good on that start well before we head up to bed.”

You squirm in your seat at the authority in his voice. You love when his Dom slips out around others. Makes ya all mushy and submissive. You do as you told without putting up a fight, which results in a raised brow from Walter and a chuckle from Sy. “Curtis I’mma need ya ta use that voice more often. She never sass’s back when you do it. For me she thinks it’s a game.”

“Isn’t it?” You innocently tease. “Victory tastes much sweeter when you work for it. Right Beasty?”

He sets a glass of water before you and grabs hold of your chin. “To the victor go the spoils. And yours are ripe for the picking.” He lays a soft kiss to your lips, pulling back before you can take it further, leaving you chasing him as he backs away to take his seat next to you. 

Dean has been sitting, plate full, watching this exchange. He’s bewildered by how seamlessly nonchalant you all are about your relationship and showing affection. He’s not against PDA by any means, but he’s gotta admit that watching you be so open with them definitely stings. 

He regrets that he took your open affection for granted. Especially since he only ever really let you do it behind closed doors. If you were at a bar, unless you were hooking up that night, he never let it go past friendly touches. I would give my right arm to take that all back and be touched by her again.

Before he can sour the mood around the table, a phone begins to ring. Everyone checks their pockets, but it’s Walter who holds up his phone. “It’s Clark. Give me a minute.” He gets up and heads into the house to take the call.

“Who’s Clark?” Sam asks.

“His nephew.” Sy replies. “I assume he’s calling him back about him and Mikey doing recon for us tomorrow.”

“They idolize Walter. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” You watch him pace the kitchen from your spot at the table. “Although this call is taking a bit longer than I expected.”

Just as you're about to get up and see what’s going on for yourself, Walter ends the call and is walking back to his seat.

“Verdict?” Curtis asks.

“They’ll do the recon for us.” Walter answers. “They’re having a bit of a time finding the bones for the haunt they’re on though and could use some extra hands to get it over with tonight.”

“Mikey couldn’t flirt his way into the good info I see.” You chuckle to yourself.

“Town historian’s a married straight man. Even his charms couldn’t pull that one off.” Walt explains.

“Well, looks like duty calls then.” Sy imparts. “Not that we need this many hunters, but who wants to help out? I’d really like to get back at a decent time. I have business I need to take care of.” He winks at you.

“I’m sure we can find and burn the remains before it gets too late and still enjoy the rest of our night before recon tomorrow. Might even get some extra hunters on the case. I’m down to go.” You respond.

“Where you go, we go.” Curtis states.

“Count us in too. I’m itchin’ for some action.” Dean throws out.

“Eat up. We head out in forty.” Walt declares.

You pull up outside your standard no tell motel, next to a red and black 1970 Dodge Challenger. “I see Mikey drove this time.” You snicker as you get out of the Durango.

Walt walks up to the room directly in front of the muscle car and bangs on the door until it swings open revealing a tall yet baby faced man. “Geez Uncle Walt. You still knock like the po po.”

He ignores his nephew and walks inside, nodding his head for all of you to follow. As you pass Mike you can’t help but to squeeze his reddened cheeks. “Loving the hair length Mikey. The ladies must be getting a real kick out of it.” You tap his cheek and continue on inside to find Clark’s large frame overtaking a chair, huddled over a table.

He looks up from his computer as you enter. “I see you decided to bring trouble with you.” He quips.

“Aww, Clark you still hung up on my little joke?” You tease.

“Joke?” He huffs. “You pretended to be my ex-girlfriend and exaggerated my prowess in bed to Lois. It took me weeks to work back up the courage to finally ask her out.”

“But you did end up asking her out right?” You retort.

“Yes.”

“And…” You gesture for him to continue.

Mikey wraps his arm around your shoulder. “And now they’re a gross ass couple. He’s always on the phone with her. And don’t get me started on when I try to bring someone back for the night.” He rolls his eyes. “One time he was all mopey cus she wasn’t returning his text and my date spent two hours listening to him bitch until she finally called. By the time I went to seal the deal she was too tired. Fucking cockblock.”

“She was too good for your pump and dump ass anyway.” Clark snorts.

“Alright boys that’s enough.” Sy pipes up. “You’re both pretty.”

Clark looks over your shoulder to the two unknown guests in his room. “You brought company.”

“Oh them?” You shrug. “They’re hunting buddies from another life. Clark, Mikey, meet Sam and Dean Winchester.” 

“Winchester?” Mike looks between you and them. “Like the Winchesters. Been to hell and back literally Winchesters?”

“That’d be us.” Dean imparts. “It’s nice to meet ya.”

“Likewise.” Clark responds.

“Hear you’re having some trouble with a haunt?” Sam queries. “We’re here to help.”

“Well shit. Sounds good to me.” Mike whoops. “If anyone can get that historian to talk it’s TG.”

“Tell us what ya got.” Curtis requests.

You were able to get the information you needed from Frank the historian. Minimal flirting was necessary actually. You went in, accompanied by Dean, posed as a couple on a honeymoon road trip, looking for fun unusual facts about each town you slept in for the night. 

It was interesting how hands on Dean played his part. He made sure to always be touching you in some subtle way until we're out of the building. It had your nerve endings going haywire by the time you got back to your men.

“I know that look.” A smirking Walter pulls you close to his leaning frame by the hips, whispering in your ear. “Need me to take the edge off for you baby?”

You subtly nod your head. “We’ll meet you guys back at the motel. Mikey. Clark. Head back with Dean and Sam.” He reaches into his pocket and grabs his keys, tossing them to Curtis. “Axeman you’re driving. Sy get in the back.” 

He pulls on the handle behind him, opening the door and ushering you in with a hand on the small of your back. He climbs in after you, closing the door with a thud. “Turn towards me and lean against Sy babygirl. Curtis queue up Tear You Apart. ”

He undoes the top of your jeans, pulling them down to bunch at your ankles, and spreads your thighs as wide as the seat will allow. He runs a thick finger over the sticky patch of arousal seeping through your thong. “Your soaked little one. I’ll have to thank Dean later.”

You whimper as he increases the pressure. Tilting your hips to get him to give you what you need. “Hold her still Sy.” He commands, ghosting his left hand along the hem of wet fabric. “When Curtis hits play, I’m going to fuck you with my fingers. You have until the end of the song to come at least once. If you don’t you’ll be shit out of luck until we get home. Understand.”

“Yes, sir. Want your fingers. I’ll be a good girl.” You whine out.

“Curtis.” He gives him a look in the rearview and the song begins. He yanks your thong to the side and sinks his middle and ring fingers to the knuckle with a growl. “So wet and fucking tight.”

He wastes no time setting a quick pace, attacking your sweet spongy spot, rendering you a mess in under a minute. You were already spun tight from all the innocent flirting and touches from your ex that by the halfway point of the almost 4 minute song you were digging your nails into Sy’s bicep as you came apart.

“Good girl.” He praised you. “Give Walt one more babygirl. I know you can do it.”

“Too much.” You whimper. “C-can’t.”

"Oh yes you can.” Walt growls out. Doubling down on his efforts, thumb circling your over sensitive little nub.

The next thing you know, everything goes still. Colors begin to dance in front of your eyes and you feel a distinct wetness coating your thighs.

“Did she just fucking squirt all over the back seat?” Curtis grits out.

“What?” You look up at Sy bewildered. “I can’t do that.”

“You can and you did Sugar.” Sy informs you. “And it was hot as hell. Just look at Walters' face. You he’s drenched baby.”

You look between your legs to find Walt grinning from ear to ear, beard clearly covered in your essence. “Worth the change of clothes.” He kisses your thigh and pulls himself back. “Why don't you cuddle Sy for a bit while I clean up and redress you. We’re almost back at the motel.”

“Kiss first.” You pout. He obliges your request and lets you taste yourself on his lips. He takes off his damp shirt, using it to remove the wetness from your skin, before ripping your thong off your body and tossing it up to Curtis.

"Hips up." He pulls your jeans back in place, zipping and buttoning you back up. Reaching into the back he grabs a shirt from the emergency duffle you keep on hand and quickly shoves it over his head as Curtis pulls in next to the Impala.

You all exit the vehicle, Walter making a show of wiping off his mouth and beard before he places a kiss behind your ear. "Thanks for the snack Sunshine."

Dean stares on, curious as to the reason for the shirt change when he spots Curtis putting something in his pocket and Sy readjusting his belt. Clearly something went down in the 8 minutes it took to get here. 

"Y'all get debriefed?" Sy asks Clark.

"We did. Now we just need to formulate a plan."

You all decided that splitting up was best. One group to distract. One to salt and burn. You, Curtis, Dean and Mikey were left to play hide and seek with the scorned female ghost, looking to avenge the life stolen from her by her fiance and best friend. While Clark, Sy, Walter and Sam were off to search the grounds for her makeshift grave marker and finally set her free.  

The thought was to lure her out with you and Curtis as bait. So there you were, making out on a dilapidated couch like a pair of horny teenagers when the temperature significantly drops. You can see your breath before as you sit up further on his lap.

You watch Curtis’ eyes track something behind you and still yourself. The next thing you know, you’re sailing through the air and slamming against a wall. You resonate the sound of your head connecting on impact before the world goes black.

Upon hearing Curtis’ bellow of rage Dean runs into the room just in time to see the ghost dematerialize from his strike. He searches the room for your smiling face, only to find you lying prone against the wall, blood oozing from a cut on your head. 

He is instantly overwhelmed by the feelings seeing you hurt has pushed further to the surface. He’s thinking crazy things, like what if he still has a chance at a life with you. Could he keep this life on the road and have you as a home to return to? Knowing you were being taken care of and loved when he was away. Sharing you would be better than never having you in his life again. He’s lived that once. He doesn't want to again. But those are questions for another day. Wishful thinking at best.

Right now the most important thing is to set this ghost free and get you the hell out of here. At that thought the specter rematerializes near your body, ready to finish the job. “Hey Bitch!” He shouts, shooting her full of rock salt as Curtis creates a salt barrier around your body.

Mikey rushes into the room, getting cut off by the ghost appearing once more. “Shit!”

Dean pumps the shotgun, readying to take the shot when the apparition lets out a shriek and bursts into flame.

“What the hell happened man?” Mike ponders as Curtis scoops up your limp body into his arms with care.

“The bait was too good.” He grits out. “Ghost tossed her like a rag doll, within moments of appearing. She never stood a chance.”

“Fuuuuuck! My uncle is gonna wring my neck.” He whines. 

“I swear to God, Mikey, if she doesn’t wake up, you’re Uncle is the least of your worries. Anything he does to you, will pale in comparison to the depths of darkness I will go to avenge her.” Curtis threatens.

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Eleven

Seven Days -  Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

A/N - This story is the sequel to Miss Fortune, but is a stand alone story. 

Summary: Syd has comes face to face with Lisa…

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Lisa Miller

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,574 

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Darcy’s wasn't quite as crowded at it had been the other night, and Frerin smiled at the bank of empty pool tables. “What do you want to drink?”

“A soda is fine.”

“You sure? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Coke it is.” He leaned over and brushed her lips with his, then said, “Go claim a table and I’ll be right back.”

He watched her cross the taproom to the alcove where to pool tables were. He couldn’t help it.   She wore her jeans and a Cranford Falls Fire Department hoodie of his and he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was hot as fuck and he was not blind. Then, he went up to the bar and order a Coke for her, a Sam Adams Winter Lager for himself and then joined her back at the tables. She’d already racked the balls and smiled as she handed him a cue. 

“Feeling confident, are you?”

She chuckled. “Not at all. But I fake it real well.”

“You’re not a half-bad player, Syd. You just try to force it. You can’t. Like I told you the last time, use physics. Science is your friend.” He set his beer on the high top table and handed her the soda. “You want to break?”

“Not especially.”

He grinned, reaching over to slip his arm about her waist. He couldn’t help himself. If she could reach her, he wanted to touch her. It was that simple. “Syd…”

“Okay, okay,” she sighed, bringing the glass to her lips for a sip. “You win. I’ll break.”

“Good.” He winked and stepped back to reach for his beer while she took her cue, chalked it, and then studied the table for a minute. Then, she bent, brought the cue back, and took her shot.

Clack! The cue hit the cue ball full on and the balls split into all different directions. Two solids—the two and the seven—rolled into opposite corners pockets and he bit back a grin as Syd looked up and said, “Solids, I guess?”

“Go for it.”

This time, it was her turn to wink and as she did, heat swept through him. Christ, everything about her turned him on. It didn't matter that they’d only gotten out of bed a little over an hour earlier. It didn't matter how many times they were together, it only made him want her more. 

She moved to take aim at the one ball, then paused to shove up the sleeves of the navy blue hoodie he’d loaned her. It was, of course, far too big on her and the cuffs were probably too stretched out from behind pushed over his own forearms on a regular basis. Still, he didn't care if she ever gave it back, as long as she promised to keep wearing it. 

The one hit the bumper, then rolled back to clack softly against the ten ball. He reached for the chalk cube. “You’re hitting with more confidence.”

“I’m more comfortable now,” she told him, coming around to where he stood. “I was a little nervous the last time we were here.”

“Why?”

“You.”

“Me? I made you nervous?”

“A little, yeah.”

He chuckled. “Honey, you’re perfectly safe with me.”

“Frerin, no woman is safe with you.”

“Sure they are.” He looked over the table to see which shot he could probably make. “Why did I make you nervous?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. I mean, were you nervous in the I’m afraid he’ll jump on me the moment we’re alone way or the oh my God, this Adonis makes me so weak in the knees I’m afraid I’ll do something crazy like agree to run away with him way?”

“Frerin!”

He laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Or am I way off?”

“You couldn't be more off if you tried.” 

He honed in on the ten ball. “Then what was it?”

“I don’t know, you just made me nervous.”

He stretched for the shot, drew the cue back, and knocked the ten ball in the middle pocket. “Ah, but the important this is, do I make you nervous now?”

“No. Not anymore.”

“Good.” He winked, and with his cue, gestured at the fifteen ball. “Corner pocket.”

“Go for it.”

He took the shot, knocked the ball into the pocket, and the moved around to her side. “Twelve, side pocket.”

As he bent, her hand came down to curve against his ass and he chuckled. “That’s cheating, honey. Distracting me like that isn’t allowed.”

“I can’t help it,” she told him pertly, giving his cheek a squeeze. “You have a nice ass.”

A sigh bubbled to his lips as she squeezed him again and his blood warmed and threatened to change direction. “Easy, honey, we’re in public.”

He straightened up and turned toward her, smiling down as she said, “I know, but I didn't think you’d mind all that much.”

“You touching me? Never. In fact I th—”

“Well, look who’s here.”

Frerin’s gut kinked at the soft, very familiar purring voice coming up behind him and he bit back a swear as Lisa came into the alcove. She smiled, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “I thought you only came out at night, Frerin?”

“Why? I’m not a vampire,” he replied evenly, reaching for his beer for a much-needed sip. 

“Oh, hello there,” Lisa directed this at Syd, as if she’d just noticed her standing there with him. “Who’re you?”

Frerin draped his arm about Syd’s shoulders. “Syd, this is Lisa Miller. Lisa, Syd Prescott.”

Lisa’s eyes widened, then offered up a half-smile and a syrupy-sweet, “It’s nice to meet you… Syd…”

Syd returned the smile. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“So,” Lisa looked from her to him, “are you two like, on a date?”

“Yeah, she’s getting ready to kick my ass in pool,” he replied, his fingers tightening on Syd’s shoulder. 

“Well, I won’t keep you. Have fun.” She started to walk away, but then stopped and his gut kinked at the glint in her eye as she added, “By the way, Frer, do you still have that bag with my lingerie in it? I’ve looked everywhere for it and I think I might have left it in your closet.”

“No, I don’t have it. I’m pretty sure I gave you back everything that was yours.”

“That’s so weird, because I just can’t find it anywhere.” Lisa smiled as she looked right at Syd and Frerin felt sick as she added, “I’ve never seen a man go so crazy for a garter belt, thigh highs and nothing else. So, if you want to keep him happy…”

Syd’s jaw tightened but her smile remained firmly in place. “I’ll take that under advisement, but, really, I think I’ve got it.”

“Good. Oh, and watch out for the bunker bunnies. You never know when one will—”

“I think we’re done here,” Frerin growled, irritation flaring in his gut. “So, if you don’t mind, I think I’d rather just—”

“I’m just looking out for her, Frerin, that’s all.” She looked from him to Syd once more. “She’s not stupid. She knows women are drawn to firemen and I’d hate to see her walk in on something she isn’t expecting.”

“That’s not going to be a problem,” he replied, his jaw aching from how tightly he clenched it. “Since I don’t cheat on my girlfriends. And I think you know that. It wasn't me who cheated with the prick from Engine Seven, was it?”

A hint of color swept across her cheekbones and her smug smile faded. “Well, anyway, nice to meet you, Syd. I hope you and Frerin are very happy together.”

“I’m sure we will be,” Syd replied tersely. 

For a moment, Lisa pursed her lips as if about to say something else, but she must have thought better of it for she said, “Excuse me, then,” and turned to make a beeline for the bar. 

He sighed softly as he glanced down at Syd. “I’m sorry, Syd… I don’t really even know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you need to say,” she told him, turned back to the table to set her cue across it. “But, if it’s all the same, I don’t really feel like shooting pool any more.”

“Yeah, we can go if you want.”

She nodded. “I do, yes.”

“Okay. Sure.” He took both cues to hang on their rack on the wall, and as he turned and caught sight of Lisa on a barstool, she looked over and her smug-ass smile was enough to make him want to vomit. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew there was damn little he could do about it, either. 

He bit back his irritation as he held Syd’s coat for her, then shrugged into his own jacket, and as they made their way out into the cold, she remained silent. He reached out to slip his arm about her shoulders, and waited for her to pull away. But, instead, to his relief, she sighed softly and eased her arm about his waist and leaned her head against him. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, leaning slightly to press a kiss into the top of her head. 

“You did nothing to apologize for, Frerin,” she told him as they reached his Jeep. The wind picked up, blowing her hair about her face as she pulled away to turn toward him. Running her fingers through it to draw it away from her, she said, “And she’s kind of a bitch, so there’s that.”

“Yeah. I know, but still…” He stepped closer, and as the wind blew her hair across her face once more, this time he drew it away. “And you really don’t have to worry about any bunker bunnies. They never were my thing.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s what we call the women who haunt firehouses in the hopes of screwing a firefighter. They’re like badge bunnies, who chase cops. Ask Thorin about them.”

“Wonderful.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I promise you, you don’t.”

She sighed softly, leaning up against the passenger door as she looked back at Darcy’s. He tucked the lock of auburn he’d swept back from her face behind her ear and then lightly traced the tip of his index finger along her cheek. “Syd?”

“Yeah?”

She looked up at him again and as her eyes met his, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He just gazed down at her, and then with a slight hesitation, as if doing it for the first time, bent and pressed his lips to hers. 

She laid a hand along his cheek, then slid it over his jaw, along his neck, her fingers sweeping lightly along the back of it to make him shiver against her. She pulled back just enough to whisper, “Ticklish, are you?”

“Just a little, right there,” he whispered back. 

The wind kicked up, slicing through him, making her suck in a sharp breath, and he chuckled as he whispered, “We should get in the car before we both freeze.”

“Mmm….” She tugged him back to her and this time, he let his hand come to rest on the curve of her waist, beneath her coat. Heat sank into his palm from her body, traveled up his arm to swirl through his entire body. Without thinking, he leaned into her, came flush against her, and as his hips made contact with her, he tensed, grinning when she pulled back abruptly. “Frerin!”

“What?”

“Here?”

“No, not here.” He brushed her lips with a light, playful kiss. “But when we get back home? Definitely.”

The room was dark, casting long shadows on the walls from the lone nightlight in the hallway bathroom. 

“What’s on your mind?” Frerin murmured, cradling her against his chest, his fingers moving lightly along her hair.

“Not much.” She let her eyes close as his fingers skimmed down her shoulder and along her arm now. The last twenty-four hours had been better than anything she could have ever dreamed and she hated to see the time going by so quickly. The only thing that dimmed everything was Lisa. 

Which was silly, really. She and Frerin were no longer a couple and Syd certainly wasn’t naive enough to be shocked to come face to face with the woman who came before her. It was just that… well… she hadn’t expected Lisa to be so absolutely perfect.

And that was equally stupid. Frerin was a gorgeous man—handsome face, amazing body, he was charming and funny and had a way of making a girl feel like the center of his universe. Of course his ex would be stunning. Stunning and blonde and all legs and tiny waist and huge boobs and—

In short, everything she, Syd, was not. 

Ugh. Why did she do this to herself?

While she knew Frerin had of course had other lovers before her, it was something altogether different to actually come face to face with one. After seeing Lisa for herself, Syd couldn't help but wonder how he would be the least bit attracted to her. It was like going from a Ferrari to a sensible four-door sedan with child locks and LATCH anchors. 

And yet… there he was, tugging her flush against him as they snuggled beneath the warm blankets while snow swirled once more past the window. He was there with her. So, why had running into Lisa rattled her so badly?

“Syd?”

“I’m just sleepy, is all.”

He trailed his fingers along her arm, over her hand, linked his with hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Syd.”

“What?”

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. I’m very comfortable right now.”

“Yeah, me, too.” 

She carefully eased onto her back to gaze up at him in the soft light from that nightlight. His eyes were pale, heavy-lidded, his dark hair mussed from her frenzied fingers not too long ago. 

He propped his head on his fist. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re cute.”

“I’m cute?”

“Yeah, there’s a reason bunker bunnies are a thing, you know. Firemen are cute.”

“It’s the uniform.”

“You’re not wearing one now.”

“Okay, I am cute.”

“You really are.” Her smile faded as his expression grew serious. “What’s the matter, Frerin? You look like someone just walked over your grave, as my gram would say.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing, honey. Just… I feel like…”

His voice trailed off and she waited for him to continue, but he just shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“Frerin.”

“It is and I don’t want to ruin my image by going all soft right now.”

“Soft is okay right now,” she told him. “No one else is here. No one else but me will ever know. And I promise I won’t ever tell.”

“Syd,” he drew in a deep breath, “I’m happy. For the first time in a very long time. And like I said earlier, I don’t want to see any other women. I just—I think we—I hope you don’t want to see any other guys, either.”

“Frerin.”

“Yeah?”

She smiled, easing her arm about his neck to pull him to her. “I don’t want to see any other guys.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A devilish grin played at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while, baby. I promise.”

[griseldabanks]

I decided to kill two birds with one stone, so I wrote this to fulfill a prompt for my Let Me Count the Ways ask game as well as @ficwip5k's 5k AU challenge.

Requested by GracielleGrace

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Characters: Kara and Alice Prompt: "Stay with me for a while."

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR KARA'S STORYLINE BELOW THE CUT

(Note: This is a post-game AU in which Alice is a human like she should have been all along.)

The car pulls up to the curb, and Tom looks over at me. “Sure you don't want me to come too?”

I smile, trying not to betray the flutters of inexplicable nervousness in my stomach. “No, I'll be fine. You know how she gets sometimes.”

A hint of sadness in the warmth of his kind brown eyes. “Think she'll ever be comfortable around me?”

I take Tom's hand in mine, squeeze it hard enough he can feel my ring through my glove. “Just give it some more time. She'll come around.”

It's what I always say. I'm still holding out hope that one day it'll be true.

I open my door and step out into the frigid February air, watching my breath form a cloud in front of me. It's probably weird of me, but I really like bitterly cold days like this. They make me feel almost nostalgic—though not nostalgic for snowball fights or hockey games or mugs of hot chocolate like most would probably assume. No, it makes me think of sore, frozen feet trudging through the snow. Lying on the hard floor in front of a pitiful fire. A beautiful carousel, all lit up in the night, the same face repeated a dozen times, spinning all around me....

“Alice.”

Jerking out of my daze, I turn around and see that Tom has already taken Ryn's carseat out. Her eyes are open, blinking sleepily from the middle of her blankets.

“Sorry.” I take the carseat from him. “Thanks.”

Tom shakes his head with an amused smile. “Always with the 'sorry-thanks.'” He leans over our daughter to place a kiss on my lips.

“Just thanks, then,” I say with a grin.

“Much better. I'll pick you up after the gig, then.”

“Right. Love you.”

He pauses with his hand on the car door and gives me one of his winks that sends warmth shooting all the way down to my toes. “Love you more.”

I wait until his car glides down the street and turns the corner, then turn to face the apartment building at last. It's an old building—built sometime in the 2010s, I think. The siding is peeling away, and I can see streaks of rust dripping down from the metal railings on the stairs leading up the side of the building to the second floor. There always seem to be problems with the plumbing, or the heating, or a window that won't quite shut.

But to someone who's slept in abandoned houses, gutted cars, dingy basements, park benches...this place is a palace. I have to remind myself of that every time I feel sorry for Kara.

Taking a deep breath so my lungs fill with the icy air, I go up the stairs and make my way to the door bearing the number 205. I press the doorbell, then peek through the blankets to make sure Ryn is still doing okay.

In moments, the door swings open, and there she is. Kara. My mother. Or the closest I ever really had to one that I can remember, at least.

She looks the same as ever—same smile, same short blonde hair, same blue eyes alight with pleasure the instant she sees me. “Alice!” she cries, pulling me into a warm hug. “It's so good to see you!”

“You too.”

Ushering me inside, her eyes are immediately drawn to the carseat in my hands. “Is that...?”

Beaming, I pull down the blankets a little so Kara can see those chubby cheeks and bright eyes better. “This is Rynnae. And...her middle name is Kara.”

Looking up from her awed inspection of the baby, Kara stares up at me. In that moment, I realize that, outwardly, we probably look about the same age now. She's never going to develop wrinkles, and her hair will never turn grey on its own. And yet, to all intents and purposes, she's now a grandmother. When Ryn grows up, when she's my age...Kara will look exactly the same as she does now, exactly the same as she always has. I'd never really thought of that before.

Kara straightens up and pulls me into another hug—longer, holding me tight, like she used to when I had nightmares and she would hold me close. “Thank you,” she whispers, sounding on the verge of tears. “No one's...ever...thank you.”

No, probably no one's ever named their child after their android housekeeper before. But not many people could say their android housekeeper went deviant and risked life and limb to save their life and raise them as refugees in a foreign country, either.

When Kara steps back, her eyes are dry. “Here, let me take your coat,” she says briskly, falling easily into the routine. “Have you eaten? I can make you some tea, and I think I still have some of those cookies from last time. You know my temperature sensors aren't what they used to be, but let me know if it's too cold for the baby....”

As she bustles around the corner of her tiny apartment that serves as the kitchen she barely uses, I can see the slightest jerkiness in her movements, like her joints need oiling or something. At first glance, no one would suspect her of being anything other than human, but someone watching her carefully would probably realize before too long that there's something mechanical about her. As things start to break down in her machinery, that becomes more and more obvious. Parts and blue blood are hard to come by these days, and Kara's never been keen on asking for help with such things. Not after seeing what many people think of androids.

“Kara,” I say, as I set down the carseat and lift Ryn out, along with her blanket. “Would you like to hold her?”

Kara freezes, then slowly turns around, her face a picture of delight and a surprised wistfulness, like she'd never realized how much she wanted exactly what I'm offering her now. With a shy smile, she holds out her arms and nods.

I don't have to remind Kara to support Ryn's head or anything like that. Kara takes the baby into her arms with the ease of a mother who has done the same thing a thousand times before. She wasn't there when I was born, and as far as I know, has never taken care of babies, but it's all there in her programming. I don't have the slightest fear for Ryn's safety as I hand her over.

“Hello there, Rynnae,” she says, rocking her slightly and gazing down with such love and devotion it takes my breath away. Ryn stares back, and even though I know in the back of my head that she's too young to recognize faces, I like to think that she knows the look of love that Kara is giving her right now.

It's the same look she's given me, time and time again.

“Kara,” I say on impulse, blurting out a thought I haven't even passed by Tom yet—though I know he wouldn't object. “Stay with me for a while. My maternity leave is up in two weeks, and then I'll have to go back to the office. Tom is home a lot, but he also has lessons and gigs...and I would feel so much better to have you around to take care of Ryn, instead of a babysitter or something.”

“Come...and live with you? And...Tom?”

There's something so vulnerable in her eyes right now, like suddenly she's the little girl who needs comforting. She never seemed completely happy about me dating Tom, or getting married for that matter. Maybe she was worried I'd stepped into the path of another man who would hurt me. Maybe she felt abandoned when I wanted to go live with someone else. Maybe she was sad that I no longer needed her to take care of me all the time.

“At least for a little while,” I say. Maybe forever, I don't say. Maybe we can help you with maintenance. Maybe just because you don't need food and warmth to get by, that doesn't mean you don't need a home and a family.

“Well...if you really think I can help....”

Just then, Ryn starts fussing and squirming around. I step forward, ready to take her back, but Kara starts rocking her again, humming a little tune that used to soothe me to sleep. Immediately, Ryn settles down again, her tiny fingers curling around Kara's thumb.

I put my arm around her shoulders, and together we watch Rynnae settle back down. “Please stay,” I whisper, leaning my head against hers.

“Okay.”

[chaoticspacefam]

Headcanon: Old Sith Gods - Chirikyât

CW: possible body horror (WAY too many eyes), general creepy vibes,  do not click below the cut if sensitive to that theme!

(Obligatory disclaimer that this post and its contents are MY personal headcanons for MY SWTOR world and by no means meant to be decreed as “the ONLY version”. If you don’t like them, that’s fine, go make your own then. Any attempts to stir the pot will result in liberal use of the block/blacklist function.)

Forgot to post this dude here when I finished him the other week!

Please DO NOT repost my art! It’s MY art, not yours!! (unless it was a gift/commission of your character, then you may ofc repost as you like as long as you credit me for the art)! Reblogs are always appreciated <333

You can view more (temp info is all that’s on there rn but this will be expanded when I have time!) info, including a better res of the image (so my writing may be easier to read), and design notes, on its toyhou.se >HERE<

My version of (one of) the Sith Gods. (”will you make more?”, yes, eventually. I need to do a LOT more reasearch on polytheism/polytheistic beliefs to ensure that I can represent such things properly & respectfully before I actively create any of the OTHERS, but it is somewhere in the near ish future!)

Some theme songs/ “Vibes”(w/ youtube links!) : The Yawning Grave - Lord Huron, Whisper - Burn The Ballroom, Lunatics and Slaves - Sin Shake Sin, Bones - Emily Finchum

Chirikyât (He/It) | Hssiss (technically...) | The patron god of House Ahaszaai. God of Battle (NOT War, this is an important distinction for later ;)) and Death.

I only gave it a semi-thumb bc honestly he’s fucking terrifying enough WITHOUT opposable thumbs, and I think giving opposable thumbs to a Force-eating Eldritch horror entity would be making it a bit TOO op XD

Further inspos that I couldn’t fit on the page bc my writing is Huge and I didn’t want the file to get too big JUST for writing djhdjdg:

Charon/The Ferryman (Greek mythology)

The Banshee (Irish mythology)

Mimics (D&D)

Seems to “draw in” Force energy, may or may not be a Derriphan... (unconfirmed, and he would never tell ;))

It doesn’t have an official/canon Voiceclaim yet, I’m still searching for one that fits (tm), but its voice echoes, and I imagine it to sound very...rough, like the kind of pitch you’d expect when you imagine “rusty nails on a chalkboard”.

Temp Bio/WIP Info:

Has a long-standing and VERY personal beef with Zildrogg & his worshippers (Zildrogg knows what he did /jk its a spoiler ;)) Bound to the ruling Ahaszaai monarch and/or their heir(ess), may only be commanded by them (however, WILL be tolerant of the monarch's family members/loved ones i.e. will not eat them on sight, just don't tell him what to do lol). Said to have blessed the Ahaszaai family with the gift of Psychometry, and their loyalty to him is what ensures another of their line "inherits" the gift.

If a member of the Ahaszaai is particularly responsive/receptive to his communication and actively interprets the Visions given, they may be bestowed the title of Rhak-skuri, the Dream-singer. Why dream singer? Due to the fact that Chirikyât can communicate with anyone it chooses, telepathically, while awake, but while it's sleeping, it seems to only be able to reach those who possess Psychometry; and often will reach out to them in their dreams. (Saarai did not sign up for this but here she is /lh)

[pillowspace]

AYO drop fic recommendations

Sun & Moon Fic Recs

Press the read more for recommended FNAF:SB fics with a major focus on Sun and/or Moon!

Current number of fics: 43

Last updated October 24th, 2023

To be updated (with announcement and by my own personal choice, please don't request fics to be added to the list. Recommending me fics to check out is allowed however!)

Word count and chapter count are only accurate so long as I update the list accordingly. Check the original for accuracy

If you are the author of a fic, you can ask your work be removed from the list. Everyone should be comfortable

No sm//ut

Table of Contents - 1. Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics, 2. Other Roles or Species AU Fics, 2a. Other Roles, 2b. Other Species, 2c. Other Species (Mer), 3. Updates

Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics

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Solar Lunacy by BamSara | @bamsara

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

M | Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

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Saturday Insomnia by BamSara | @bamsara

No Archive Warnings Apply, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

The animatronic tuts at you. “No, silly, not for us. For you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

Sun places one hand on his chest. “The Sun and the Moon, and…” He points to the shirt’s design, and then to you. “-and the Earth!”

It takes you a moment to process, but when it dawns on you, you fight back a snort unless you want to make an ungodly noise in the middle of the quiet thrift store. “Oh god. That’s corny. Like, REALLY corny. That should be a crime.”

Sun just hums and nods as you revel in his ‘genius’, arms reaching out to take the bundle of clothing you’ve been holding and carrying it for you. “There’s nothing wrong with the clichés. You’re just jealous because we’re as clever as ever.”

------

A comfort fic showing domestic life with the Daycare Attendants. Set somewhere in the future timeline for Solar Lunacy, but can be read stand-alone.

M | Words: 9,061 | Chapters: 1/1

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copper cogs rusted through by Borashore | @paper-lilypie

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader

A year after the fire, Fazbear Entertainment graciously announces its plans to reopen the grand Pizzaplex installment bigger and better than ever, causing a stir amongst everyone nation-wide, including your small, mundane town, set in the outskirts of anything modern, luxurious or relevant. As a mundane civilian of said town with other things to worry about, you barely wink an eye. Rent is a constant nuisance to meet, one of your jobs might get terminated, raising three siblings zaps both time and energy, and coming to terms with the fact you never grew up to be somebody in life becomes an impossibility every other day.

Nonsense like Fazbear Entertainment has never been something to think about.

That is… well, until you mistakenly bring one– sorry, two– of its titular characters home and add more problems to your list.

Can’t catch a break, can you?

M | Words: 37,458 | Chapters: 3/11

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Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands by aug325, CephalonGhost | @dana-chan-the-control-brain @twinanimatronics

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader

Takes place after the three-star princess quest ending where Sun and Moon are the only intact animatronic left.

Fazbear Entertainment decides to capitalize on that and try to make money off the daycare again by making the dual animatronic into two. Clearly no problems arise from this because robots can’t suffer mental or emotional trauma, right?

Sequel to: Lofi Beats to Capture Children to.

M | Words: 226,447 | Chapters: 26/?

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Lofi Beats to Capture Children to by aug325 | @dana-chan-the-control-brain

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/DJ Music Man, Moon & Sun, DJ Music Man & Moon, DJ Music Man/Moon, DJ Music Man & Music Man, Vanessa A. | Ness & Daycare Attendant, Vanessa A. | Ness & Moon, Vanessa A. | Ness & Sun, Vanny & Moon

The Daycare Animatronic was different from the Glamrocks. They didn't match the 80's austenitic, and their drastic shift in personalities.

Sun seems to be a nervous trainwreck who sobs to pieces if left alone for five minutes.

Moon seems intent on punishing anyone they deem a "rulebreaker"

And with Moon's inherent violent tendencies, it almost seems they were made with the intention of capturing intruders of the Pizzzaplex first, and being a Daycare Attendant second.

Who made these things? What kind of messed-up person was the guy who made them...

Why make the Daycare Attendant and the NightTime Security for the building the same animatronic?

It just doesn't make sense.

Moon was the head of security of the entire Pizzaplex at night. It was only natural they had to meet the 'bouncer' of the Dance Floor eventually.

(Or: A small stupid fic about Moon and DJMM becoming frens and goes into details of Sun/Moon's origin. The Glamrocks also appear and be frens. Eventual child death to come)

This is a Direct Prequel to "Twin Animatronics with too much time on their hands" So I recommend giving it a read <3

T | Words: 151,036 | Chapters: 16/?

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Visions (Or Lack Thereof) by DeeplyJuniper, Glitched_and_Unnamed | @sleepyjuniper @azure-aura321

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun, Daycare Attendant & Gregory, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory

This place is not like he remembered it. Neither is Sun; his brother seems panicked and shaky- and relieved to hear him.

To Moon, this all seems like some elaborate prank. One minute he was doing his job, watching over the children, and listening to Sun from their shared consciousness. The next, he opens his eyes to find the place he loved and cherished has fallen into disrepair. Abandoned. Rundown. His brother says it's been months.

He doesn't remember what happened in-between.

G | Words: 100,459 | Chapters: 14/?

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Permission Slip by thedemonsurfer | @thedemonscrawler

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant & Gregory, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory, Gregory & Sun, Gregory & Moon, Moon & Sun

Gregory gets dumped off in the Daycare as a 'lost child'. When he shows back up after closing, convinced that the security guard wants to hurt him, Sun decides to do whatever is needed to help him escape the Pizzaplex. This turns out to be a much bigger ordeal than anticipated.

Freddy is on lockdown. Chica is eating garbage. Roxy is talking to herself. Monty is tearing apart anything that moves.

There is a rabbit in the Pizzaplex.

Something is wrong tonight.

T | Words: 165,760 | Chapters: 13/?

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I see you, Sundrop! by ShiraCheshire | @shirajellyfish

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon & Sun & Original Character(s), Sun & Original Character(s), Moon & Original Character(s), Daycare Attendant & Original Character(s)

With nowhere else to go, Riley returns to the place they spent their childhood- Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. When they discover that something is very wrong with the animatronics, they're forced to take shelter in the Superstar Daycare.

Considering that their favorite hobby is analyzing and understand how animatronics work and think, Riley is thrilled at the chance to get to know the Daycare Attendant. Too bad everything had to go wrong first for them to get here. At least they're safe in the daycare, right? No health and safety hazards here in the Superstar Daycare absolutely none no siree.

AKA mostly a whole lot of playing with and getting to know Sun- As long as the lights stay on, anyway.

(Not a fan of longfics? Looking for something shorter but still satisfying? Chapter 11 and chapter 32 both work as early stopping points if you wish)

M | Words: 462,502 | Chapters: 103/?

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404: Personal Space Not Found by CrazedAuthor | @crazedauthor

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader

Being an anxious mess one bright light from a breakdown wasn't easy, nor did it grant you many friends. Still, you were getting by as a hermit only leaving your apartment to go to class. That all changes when you start working at the Pizzaplex as a staff member. Working in close proximity to such advanced robotics? It was every future engineer's dream. Working for such high pay in this economy? It was enough to make a poor college student cry. Despite the change in routine, you're content to go through with it, thinking you'll blend into the background and disappear, never to be noticed by human or animatronic alike...

You thought wrong. The Daycare Attendants and the trouble that surrounds them will RUIN YOU.

T | Words: 81,109 | Chapters: 7/?

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(it was, in reality, not fine.) by bones_of_a_rabbit | @bones-of-a-rabbit

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader

You're the new tech/repairman at the Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, unfortunately. Your first task? To make the Daycare Attendant into two separate animatronics. It's an amazing opportunity, really, and there is nothing you love more than getting a chance to really work with such tech! The only bad part is that you don't know how to tell anyone that you just might be in over your head. (You are extremely in over your head.)

(Just a silly feel-good fic, AU where there is no Security Breach, no William, no murders, etc. Sun and Moon fall in love with you, a well-meaning but honestly naïve and easily-overwhelmed little dummy)

(BTW THE TITLE IS MEANT TO BE A RUNNING JOKE FROM THE FIC there isn't gonna b some big angsty plot twist. most likely)

G | Words: 99,238 | Chapters: 10/?

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Ventura Highway by MadameMiz | @madamemiz

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun

You are an idiot who, in the eyes of the law, just stole a multi-million dollar piece of AI animatronic technology from a highly controversial company.

Now a fugitive, you weigh your options, and with few choices available you decide going on the run is your best bet.

Time for a road trip.

T | Words: 28,356 | Chapters: 6/?

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The Night Shift by Certified_Handler | @certified-handler

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader

You expected there would be plenty of changes when Fazbear Entertainment purchased the childcare facility where you work. What you didn't expect was everything that came after...

M | Words: 214,610 | Chapters: 44/44

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(and when you speak) angels sing from above by ranchdiip

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Glamrock Animatronics & Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Sun

“Fine,” you spit. You’re still shaking, but the fear is mixed with anger now, a bitterness that follows all of life’s unfair balances. “Fine. Whatever. I won’t tell anyone that Fazbear is letting a criminal run free and paying for his treatments to boot. But what the fuck do you want me to do about this thing?”

“Work on it,” Margaret says. She doesn’t acknowledge your barb, probably for the better. It still burns you. “Figure out how you can decommission the Naptime Attendant without damaging the Daycare Attendant. It’s the Naptime’s that turned violent, and we can’t return the animatronic to the public until it’s gone.”

“You want me to get rid of the half that saved a little girl,” you scowl.

“I want you to get rid of the half that put a man in the hospital.”

“I’m not a software engineer, Mag.”

“You are, now. If anything happens to you, tell me. You know I’ve got your back here.”

You’re starting to wonder if that’s true.

—

Last week, the recently debuted Daycare Attendant put a man in the hospital. Corporate has decided it's your problem, now.

M | Words: 30,251 | Chapters: 6/?

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First They're Sour, Then They're Sweet! by lunargalaxies | @smallergalaxies

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Sun & Reader, Moon/Reader

You’re one of a handful of night time security guards at the pizzaplex, and a certain animatronic has taken a…liking? to you. At least you think so, it's hard to tell when he almost never talks to you and just follows you around on your shifts. If it wasn't so creepy, you think it could actually be a little cute.

T | Words: 16,030 | Chapters: 10/?

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Our Orbit is Elliptical by Sycopomp | @sycopomp | in association with @madame-mongoose

No Archive Warnings Apply Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Sun & Reader

The Daycare Attendant is very protective of his role in the Superstar Daycare; he was made for this job, after all, and he finds it insulting that management seems to think he needs help. They insist on saddling him with human assistants, over and over, no matter how many quit. Not that he does it intentionally, of course... but if they can't handle the stress, then perhaps they aren't fit to be working with children. Hmph.

You are the new Daycare Assistant at the Superstar Daycare! Despite some reservations, you're determined to do your best and prove-- mostly to yourself-- that you deserve to be here. You're inspired by Sun and the ease with which he gets along with the children, and you hope to impress him with your go-getter attitude and unflappable confidence! (Even if both of those things are about as flimsy as construction paper...)

aka: Sun is passive-aggressive to his new assistant, whom is so determined to do a good job that they're too oblivious to notice.

T | Words: 15,337 | Chapters: 1/?

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Holding the World by StarvingMe | @anangelcalledinquisitor

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader

You were new, dressed in your little uniform, jacket, slacks, collared shirt peeking out, plastic little nametag with your name scrawled in large, friendly letters.

(Pregnant Reader AU with Automatons)

M | Words: 99,699 | Chapters: 27/27

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rises the moon by paris_23 | @paris-23

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Reader

You hear a door creaking, but it isn’t enough to pull you from your spiraling panic, hardly even grasps your attention. It isn’t until you hear a bell jingle that you force your head up and your eyes open. And it’s… Moon. He’s standing in front of you, watching as you quiver and stare up at him, tears staining trails down your face.

He sits down next to you, criss-cross, not touching you but still close. His voice is raspy, just like always, but softer, quieter, as he says, “Poor thing, out here on their own. Should know not to wander in the dark alone, little lamb.”

---

Moon helps you through a panic attack

G | Words: 2,451 | Chapters: 1/1

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Stare at the Abyss; It Might Look Back by characcoon | @characcoon

No Archive Warnings Apply, DJ Music Man & Sun, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, DJ Music Man & Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Gregory, Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader

You blink at the offended new light source aimed at the far wall of the pit, flickering constantly and making your eyes hurt. You smack it in your palm until the batteries move back in place and the light stops flickering. You point it up and down the well again, considering your options of going forward or going home, putting all the cards at the table so you can make a decision.

Turning around, wanting to pace for a bit since it helps you think better, you're greeted with a whole thing standing right behind you.

The color quickly drains off your face and you get cold, holding your breath for dear life as the light from your torch illuminates a face. Round like a dinner plate, singed and cracked, with a Cheshire smile stretched from one side to the other, black eyes that seem to suck the light out of the torch, framed by a shredded, poorly patched up blue hood. You don't feel like moving the light or your eyes away from the animatronic, so you can’t see the state of the rest of its body yet.

The thing isn’t moving. Neither are you.

T | Words: 27,900 | Chapters: 11/?

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Don’t spare your gaze by acrylicArtsy | @inazumaneko

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun

With a huff, the daycare attendant sat up fluidly, and began heading to the sink to wash off what glue he could.

He was halfway there when the smell had hit him.

At first, he was confused. His systems halting, trying to place what this new thing was. He was getting multiple results at once, and it was almost dizzying how quick the sensory notifications came:

Barbecue, fireplace, fireworks, chimney,

Smoke.

What was happening? Why did he sense smoke? What could be causing this?

Fire. below. MOVE.

—————-

Or: Sundrop realizes the building is on fire, escapes, and tries to figure out his purpose in the big scary world.

(Active updates)

T | Words: 45,671 | Chapters: 14/?

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To Err Is Human by TheNerdyBirdy14 | @birdy-boogaloo

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon & Sun, Moon/Sun/Original Character(s), Moon/Sun/Original Male Character(s), Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Original Character(s), Daycare Attendant/Reader, Glamrock Animatronics & Original Character(s), Glamrock Chica & Original Character(s), Montgomery Gator & Original Character(s), Glamrock Freddy & Original Male Character(s), Roxanne Wolf & Original Character(s)

Jack Harley just wanted a nice, simple job that paid well. He was sick of working two other jobs to make ends meet. So when Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex began looking for someone to manage the Daycare area, he leapt on it. It was just a little mechanical work and playing with kids, right? Shouldn't be too hard.

But there's something going on under the surface: animatronics with way more intelligence than they should have; secrets that come out when the lights go down; and to top it off, a virus with a vengeance infecting it all.

Is there a way to fix it all? Or will he be another victim broken by the company's dark past?

//OC-centric, slow burn romance, giving the animatronics the happy ending they deserve, plot fixes, short chapters\\

M | Words: 87,171 | Chapters: 16/?

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Celestial Syzygy by Pterolem | @echoingkarma

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Vanessa & Reader

You're the human staff of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, and one of the only two you ever seem to see, there to be a comforting and familiar face for the guests... and just to do what you're told. At your side are several very tall animatronics who mostly want to help you settle in.

Mostly.

Good luck, reader, and please enjoy your time working for Fazbear Entertainment. Don't forget all those waivers you signed when you started working for us! And forget what you hear or see in the night; its not relevant to your job :)

M | Words: 70,541 | Chapters: 18/18

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you move to dayshift but aren't paid any more, go figure by tuzesdays | @tuzesdays

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

You never, never wanted to be on dayshift. All those children running around, being loud and messy and eugh... but that's what corporate scheduled you for, and they're the ones that write your checks, so. You weren't expecting to get along with the daycare attendant, but that doesn't mean you want to stay on dayshift just to hang out with them.

Too bad you can't back out now.

T | Words: 121,367 | Chapters: 21/?

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So(u)l by Strawbubbysugar | @strawbubbysugar

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon & Sun, sun and moon/reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

It will take every single sign the universe can throw at you to realize that you are capable of being loved. Specifically, by an animatronic daycare attendant.

Check out @strawbubbysugar on Tumblr for art related to the AU, and to participate in polls to decide what happens next!

NR | Words: 134,362 | Chapters: 70/70

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What's It Called When Light Hits a Prism? by TooManyPsuedonyms

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun

The PizzaPlex has been running--and the Management needs a new operator for one of their salvaged animatronics.

You are just trying to live independently, so of course, you'll take the job.

You have no idea what you're in for. Granted, you never really know what you're in for, but this can't be much different than working with regular human people... right?

M | Words: 161,198 | Chapters: 39/?

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Other Roles or Species AU Fics

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--- Other Roles (machines in total alternate circumstances. This may include former daycare attendants if the primary role has changed. Former daycare attendants who have more so only lost their role do not go here, they still go in Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics)

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Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Eclipse & Reader

M | Words: 174,134 | Works: 15 | Complete: No

- Due to being a whole series rec, here's the first work details:

Share the Cuffs by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

Detective!Sun & Detective!Moon x Vigilante!Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 4,084 | Chapters: 1/1

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Bethroned by Strawbubbysugar | @strawbubbysugar

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon & Sun, Sun & Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader

The Human Kingdom of Porphyal has long been at war with The Kingdom of Atomata, a strange land filled with sentient automatons. The cause for the start of the bloodshed has been lost to time, but it will soon be drawing to a close with the arranged marriage of the Heir of Porphyal and the Heir of Atomata, set to be wed when they reach of age, uniting the Kingdoms in peace at last.

Though it is uncertain if the temporary truce will last long enough to see this come to pass.

NR | Words: 58,168 | Chapters: 34/?

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Ghost in the Machine by Qwille | @venomous-qwille

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Eclipse/Reader

You are not strong in the Sight. To you, the supernatural has become the background noise of a mundane and lonely life. You have no interest in becoming involved with ghosts.

But they have every interest in you.

When your eccentric great uncle offers you a job fixing the ‘jewel’ of his collection—the original Fazco Daycare Attendant—you expect a challenge, sure. This was undoubtedly going to be the biggest project of your life. You expect pain, mistakes, and late nights aplenty, and you expect an excruciating learning curve.

You do not expect the other Daycare Attendants.

*

This is a story about love and memories, about secret things and ghosts.

How can you know what to live for when the world you were built for is gone?

M | Words: 69,063 | Chapters: 7/?

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--- Other Species

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Apology Flowers & Blooming Hours by daunsun | @daunsun

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

Google Maps knew some of the most niche places, really. Oh, you need a very specific kind of food? Here’s a location five minutes from you! You’re looking for a pot of a particular kind of flower and have never explored the area around your apartment complex outside of work? Great! There’s a flower shop two blocks down! Of course, that exact question is what led you to the looming brick shop in front of you. It was a rather quaint place, sure, but it was on one of the busiest streets in town, meaning you only received stares for standing in front of the flower shop and getting in the way. According to your phone, the place was called Daylight-Goodnight Blooms. You figured it was called that because of its night time delivery service, which apparently isn’t a common thing for stores, especially flower shops.

--

It's not everyday you see a grinning and smiling talking sunflower. Neither is it everyday a grumbling moonflower shows up to your doorstep with... a bouquet? Things were already stressful enough, so surely you were losing your mind, yeah?

(An AU I made that apparently people liked, so I'm writing a tiny fic on it I guess. I have a bunch of ideas. >:D )

T | Words: 9,868 | Chapters: 2/?

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Bug Love by TheOHNOCorral | @theohnocorral

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader

Sun and Moon are what remains of a vast pantheon of gods. Only able to save themselves by making a pact with each other and binding their bodies together and the moon and sun themselves. They watch over what is left of the vast forests they once protected. They know that one day they will waste away, unable even to hold on to each other.

Now here you are. Things haven't gone exactly the way you'd hoped but you've got another field position and it's looking up from there. Now if you can manage to keep catching bumble bees, not eat anything poisonous, and make the mortgage, you'll be fine.

Curious that you always catch more bees than anyone else on the study. Curious that you never get ticks, or chiggers, your bag never rips open, you've never been stung, never fallen in the woodland brush. You think you're just lucky for a while. Then you step on that hornet nest. Well. You'd always had a thing for local cryptid lore.

G | Words: 43,561 | Chapters: 17/?

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Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

You will face the monsters.

Cryptid!Sun/Moon x Cryptid Hunter!Y/N (SFW)

M | Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

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Celestial Sundown by clutterspace | @pillowspace

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun/Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Eventual Moon/Reader, Eclipse & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was.

The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

────

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

T | Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

- hey! Celestial Sundown is my fic! My followers recommended that I add it to the list

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--- Other Species (Mer)

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For in Safe Horizons by Anonymous | @horizonandstar

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Sun & Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader

It was supposed to be a normal expedition like any other, but something goes wrong and the ship crash-lands. Now you’re stranded on an ocean planet with no way of going home. How long can you survive until you can call for help and leave this planet?

For the first time in your life, you’re alone.

As alone as one can be when two alien creatures follow you around, anyways.

T | Words: 28,630 | Chapters: 8/?

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The Sea Jesters are Real Science by MatosaurusRex, sixty_nine13 | @frizzybearprteam

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon & Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Sun

You stare into the glass. At first you see nothing, just a greenish-blue landscape, peaceful and ordinary. There is nothing special about it... Or so you think. As the seconds pass, two figures become more and more visible, slowly growing from two distant dots to two large figures, easily two metres tall. The two creatures stare at you, and you raise your hand, slapping it against the cold glass that holds the creatures trapped. These two beings, which until now had been considered to be legends, raise their hands to clasp yours as well. The most wonderful living beings in the world stand before you, separated by thick glass, suffering every day at the hands of greedy people.

How long will they resist this?

((This fic was inspired by Tumblr shenanigans and merMAY! Thank you all for inspiring us to create this <3))

T | Words: 121,792 | Chapters: 27/?

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Celestial Omens (that really like Fishsticks) by BamSara | @bamsara

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

(A 3-part Sun & Moon x Reader fic for Mermay.) (Title subject to change)

T | Words: 23,822 | Chapters: 2/3

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Song for a Siren by SolarRush | @solarrush

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader

As a kid, ever since you attended your first show at the Faz Aquarium and Research Center you were determined to become like the mer handlers you admired. Now fresh out of college, you've made it to your first day at the ARC!

It's not quite as....glamorous...as you expected.

An abandoned exhibit and its inhabitants stir up questions about Faz Corp's true intentions, and you find yourself caught in the middle. Can one person change a bleak future, or will you be sleeping with the fishes?

T | Words: 23,162 | Chapters: 4/4

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I Watched You Become a Stranger by IcedMetalTea | @icedmetaltea

No Archive Warnings Apply, Moon & Sun & Reader

You work at one of the few aquariums cleared to house merfolk as a handler for twin mers who live in a sort of petting pool targeted at kids, as they've proven to be harmless to humans through the years. You spend your days taking care of them and supervising their interactions with the public.

You arrive at the exhibit for your early morning shift and, as you prepare for the day's visitors, the automatic door to the room malfunctions and slams shut while you're inside. You find yourself trapped with no sources of food, and the two creatures who have a very big appetite.

T | Words: 6,748 | Chapters: 1/1

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Scars and Scales by intistone | @intistone

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, just platonic stuff ye, Family Fluff - Relationship, Sun & Reader, Moon & Sun, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon & Reader

You were doing fine as a diver, despite the nosy neighbor/best friend and dog that was certainly going to be the end of you. All was well, in a weird way

Then the storm came.

And the tides rose.

And you met a monster

.

Two of them actually, and they were anything but.

You have no idea what to do, no idea how to help, and clearly no idea now broken they are.

But you can't keep them safe forever.

Your past is catching up to you faster than you think.

NR | Words: 163,547 | Chapters: 14/?

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Fish Out of Water by Imagine_Darksiders | @imagine-darksiders

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader, Moon/Reader, Moon & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

'What you're looking at is...

Well, quite frankly, it's impossible.

There's a face hanging above you, Lovecraftian in proportion – taller and wider than you are long, with features about as adjacent to a human's as one could possibly get.

For the first few seconds, you remain frozen to your spot, unblinking, half expecting the grinning visage to fade away as sobriety takes you back into its safe, sense-making embrace.

A pair of milky, white eyes peer down at you, hanging in the expanse of yellowing skin, like twin pools of alabaster paint. You'd hesitate to even call them eyes, but then, the damn things b l i n k.'

M | Words: 26,589 | Chapters: 4/?

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Within a Sun and Moonlit Cove by shadow_oblivion

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon & Sun & Reader, Moon/Sun/Reader

You witness two mer hatch, and spend the entire summer with them. But at the end of that time, you get the mer to the sea before your family moves away. 20 years later, you are in desperate need of a break from your busy life. Taking a vacation to where you lived when younger, you fondly remember the two tiny mer, and hope they are doing all right wherever they are.

When you wander the shore near your hotel, during the day or at night, you start to find little trinkets here and there, along with an occasional dead sea creature. You might dismiss the odd sight as coincidence, until the items start to line the shore in the direction of a secluded cove in the distance.

T | Words: 40,981 | Chapters: 12/?

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Pisces Caelestis by S_V | @sortvaniliekrans

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Moon/Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader, Sun/Reader, Glamrock Freddy & Reader, Roxanne Wolf & Reader, Glamrock Chica & Reader, Montgomery Gator & Reader

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

NR | Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

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In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Daycare Attendant & Reader, Eclipse/Reader

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

Mermaid!Eclipse x Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

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Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

Mermaid!Sun & Mermaid!Moon x Reader (SFW)

T | Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

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Crush Depth by NaffEclipse | @naffeclipse

No Archive Warnings Apply, Daycare Attendant/Reader, Eclipse/Reader, Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

You stare out the forward viewport—the window. The sub’s only window. Blood splashes against the thick glass. It is human blood. It fills an ocean on Moon FZ-87. The atmosphere is dark and barren, speckled with the ghostly light of stars that have been gone for decades.

This is the last view you have of anything above the blood ocean surface. Futility sinks roots into your ribs.

DCA x Reader (SFW)

M | Words: 25,182 | Chapters: 10/10

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Updates

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Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 9/30/22

Celestial Syzygy by Pterolem was added to the list, categorized under Animatronics Daycare Attendant Fics! - 10/13/22

Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species! - 10/24/22

you move to dayshift but aren't paid any more, go figure by tuzesdays was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 11/2/22

Pisces Caelestis by S_V was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 5/23/23

So(u)l by Strawbubbysugar was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 7/14/23

Celestial Sundown by clutterspace was added to the list, categorized under Other Species! - 7/14/23

Bethroned by Strawbubbysugar was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 10/22/23

Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

What's It Called When Light Hits a Prism? by TooManyPsuedonyms was added to the list, categorized under Animatronic Daycare Attendant Fics! - 10/22/23

Crush Depth by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse was added to the list, categorized under Other Species (Mer)! - 10/22/23

Ghost in the Machine by Qwille was added to the list, categorized under Other Roles! - 10/24/23

[jiuwi]

I've always been so scared of requesting a fic idea because like- what if I say something wrong... but, I got enough courage to do it anyways!

So genshin actor au!(your choice) With a reader who's casted as a villain. During one of the scenes reader has to step on said-character and degrade/insult them and the character accidentally says "that's hot" reader stays in character and kicks them,

(P.s! Doesnt need to be suggestive but, just an embarassing moment for character)

- moraless anon

AAAA i admire your courage please don't be scared to send requests we (writers) really love people like you >< /// ALSOO, i'm really sorry for the delay i was having writer’s block TT

𖦹 — dumb conversations, pent-up frustrations, what more could you find in this career of yours?

love me not 𖦹.. ✈️ ৎ୭ ʿ — ガイア

꒰ featuring ! ꒱ kaeya x gn!reader ?!

꒰ cw ! ꒱ actor!kaeya, actor!reader, usage of pet names, swearing, degradation, modern au ?!

you stare mindlessly at the script presented to you, reading every line like you’re going through a short poem. within a blink of an eye, you set the piece of paper down and stretch your body to relax the tense muscles. without knowing, a tall figure looms in from behind you. with a hearty chuckle and a firm hand placed on your shoulder, you could already guess who the mysterious person is — kaeya.

“how are you doing today, sweetheart?” he winks at you and you shrug him off, giving him a short side glance before stepping away from him. “fine.” oh to give you a short background info, this man is kaeya alberich, your co-worker for this movie. he plays a major role in this movie and his fans adore him from worldwide.

though they were especially hyped when he got to film this project with you. you’re a fresh actor who’s never gotten into a film this big. it’s not that bad right?..wrong, fans suspect that you two are involved in a romantic relationship because of the way he treats you, and the last thing you could do is avoid the said man because you don’t want to risk your career being demolished by his angry mob of fans. despite this, it gave the people some sort of excitement on how you two would work together.

“oh what’s with the cold face? i didn’t do anything wrong did i?” he walks from behind you and you shake your head ‘no’. well, it’s no use dwelling on this matter at this point in time. it has been done and you just have to be on friendly terms with the said man. he decides to probe into your mind and figure out more about you, so he catches up to you in no time and places a hand on your shoulder once again.

“come now i–” a light smack erupted from your hand to his. with a heavy sigh, you turn to him. “i don’t understand kaeya. why me? why pester me out of all the people you could encounter out there?” your fierce gaze doesn’t break and all he could do was simply chuckle and take your hand in his. “is it enough to say that i’m interested in you?” he hums and observes the flabbergasted expression adorned on your face. “are you crazy?! surely you’ve heard the rumors about us, right?” you hiss quietly, making sure that this conversation is stuck between the two of you.

his eyes dart elsewhere, then back to you. “what about it?” he asks nonchalantly. before you could even speak again, he fake gasps. “ohh, don’t tell me you’re bothered because of the rumors,” his eyes light up like a light bulb and you grumble. “y/n, listen. if i like someone, my fans will adore them in return. if i hate someone, they’ll hate them. you, in fact, are that special someone and i like you. so don’t worry about anything.” he assures you before fixing his clothes and brushing off the wrinkles on his top.

“i–” you began, but he cuts you off quickly by pointing his index finger to the arranged set. “hush now, we have a movie to finish.”

“hmm, no, this won’t do.” the director cuts the scene and ponders intensely while looking at the script. while they were busy with that, you look at kaeya before turning back to stare at the wall — and for some reason, he caught you staring. “you okay there?” he asks teasingly, folding his arms against his chest. “yes, thank you for asking.” you bring back that tone that he oh-so loved about you. he decides to rile you up even more. his eyes flicker to the corner of the room, hmm?, maybe you’ll even receive a bonus because of this.

he treads his way in front of you, confident and superior, that’s the aura that he gives off right now. “i’m starting to think you’re no good at this,” he says, index placed on his lips while relishing the annoyed expression plastered on your face. it even seemed like you would smack him right there and then for saying such an insult to your career. “excuse me? i know full well what i’m doing.” you send him a glare and he puts his hands up, jokingly. “oh no, i’m scared.” his lips form into a moue, mocking and sarcastic, his tone laced with distaste.

is this how he’s going to play now? bring it on then.

“listen, i don’t like playing games here kaeya, so hurry up and say it. say what you don’t like about me.” you push a finger to his chest and push him harshly. “go on. spit,” a harsh force hits his chest. “it,” and another one. “out.” the back of his knees hits the flat of the chair and he flops hard on the wooden material. then, your shoe lands on his chest, not too heavy but not too light either. your hands that were previously gripping the frame of the chair is now holding kaeya’s tie. pulling it against you and scowling at him in disgust as if he was some sort of trash.

“i’ve wanted to say this for so long but gosh, you’re so. fucking. annoying, alberich.” oh wow. is this even the y/n that he knows? i mean he’s not complaining but this entire scene is so hot. “oh– ah, can i take a break? wOAH—!” you kick the chair without warning and he falls down roughly, landing on his bottom afterwards. hmph, serves you right. you frown at the pitiful sight of him rubbing his hips.

just then, you could hear cheers erupting from the crew. they looked... satisfied? what’s happening? “cut! that was perfect, are you sure you’re a rookie, y/n?” the director smiles and wonders in curiosity. “huh? oh– yes!” you’re confused and overwhelmed, this all feels so new to you. it’s like the feeling you got when you first started acting.

“haaaa.. i knew you were good but i didn’t think you’d go that harsh on me.” kaeya sighs heavily before standing up on his two feet, shifting his position to look at you straight in the eye. “what? are you saying this is all a—”

“an act, yes. the cameras started rolling long before you could even notice.” he chuckles and points back to the cameras all around you. oh, an act? an act?! you spewed out all your pent-up anger from earlier and now you’re embarrassed. world, please bury me.

“haha, don’t worry. the things you did earlier were just the type of stuff i was looking for! great job. and besides,” his lips stay on the shell of your ear and he whispers. “i now know that i have to work hard for your heart to accept me.”

[littlemisspascal]

The Before

Pairing: Ruescott Melshi x Female Reader

Word Count: 4000+

Summary: There is a story before, when, and after Keef Girgo enters your life. This is the Before.

Rating: M (18+, minors please do not engage!)

Warnings: Prison/Narkina 5 storyline but an AU where woman inmates are assigned to each unit as 'peacekeepers', language, established relationship, non-descriptive smut + references of smut, possessiveness, rough handling, biting, references of violence + blood, non-descriptive suicide (not major character death)

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is picked up twice + is implied to be shorter than Melshi (because I'm a sucker for height differences)

Author Note: So...Idk what happened, I just watched Andor and something about the prison arc really resonated with me. And I really loved Melshi’s scenes and his connection with Cassian (or, Keef, I guess technically lol) so I decided to give writing for him a shot. I am not a smut writer, it’s just not for me, but I wanted to also try to step outside my usual comfort zone a little bit too when writing and thus---this fic was born. Hope someone enjoys it 😊

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜

The When

There is a scar across the top of Melshi’s hand that flashes silvery-white whenever the light catches it just right. You’ve been mesmerized by it for almost a dozen shifts now. His hands, in general, have starred in many of your dreams: the sandpaper quality of his skin, thick fingers covered in calluses, how they flex and fidget when he works. 

Once upon a time your mind used to torture you by fantasizing what those hands would feel like touching you. If he’d be rough or gentle. How lucky you are now to know reality is better than even your wildest fantasies.

From the other side of the table, where he’s twisting a bolt into place with a hydrospanner, Melshi’s eyes lift to meet yours. The sleeves of his uniform are rolled up, exposing pale skin rippling as his muscles tighten and slacken with every movement. You track the faint blue lines of veins along the tender flesh of his wrists, up his forearms, imagining you can follow them all the way to his heart. The whooshing of blood pumping in your ears is nearly loud enough to block out the ruckus of machinery sounds. 

Nearly.

Melshi’s brow twitches, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it show of concern. An unspoken question only you hear. What’s wrong? 

Other prisoners have described this place as hell, but you're not so sure. Hell is pain and anguish on an infinite loop—a fitting description to a T, except for one glaring exception. Narkina 5 has Melshi. So it can’t be hell, you reckon, because Melshi is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. He’s your everything.

Nothing, absolutely nothing can compete with what you have within these walls. Fresh air, sunshine, the smell of the dirt after it rains. You’d trade them all if it meant staying by his side.

You give the smallest shake of your head. Nothing. An even subtler quirk of an eyebrow. Thinking.

There’s more you could say. A whole book of dialogue exchanged in shrugs, facial tics, and flaring nostrils. Melshi would follow along with every nonexistent word. 

But you don’t need to say anything else. Melshi understands your silences too.

He winks, sly as a fox. 

Back to work, little dreamer.

—

The view outside the window is the same above as it is below, dozens of skybridges full of men standing in lines with a single woman spotted here and there amongst them. You press your forehead against the glass, reminiscent of your childhood days on commercial flights. Behind you, Melshi stands alert, keeping an eye on Kino shouting orders further up ahead, ready to pull you back in line at a second’s notice. He holds your hand, thumb absently rubbing circles.

For a moment, you contemplate stealing his attention. Look, Rue, you’d say, tapping at the window, gesturing to the gaps between the ugly facility where water pours down in torrents, breathtaking in its intensity. And Melshi would turn his head, dark eyes burning like a wildfire, and you’d forget the view immediately, discovering a far more beautiful sight.

But Kino opens his mouth again and you’re tugged back in line and the moment’s gone. 

—

One morning, Ulaf gives you a scrutinizing look, his aged eyes dark and full of knowing, and says, “He’s it for you, isn’t he?”

The two of you walk side by side to the work ring, your turn to make sure he doesn’t get pushed around by the other prisoners. Up ahead, Melshi looks back every other step, glaring at anyone who gets too close to you, softening when he catches you smiling. 

“Yes,” you say simply, feeling warm all over. “He is.”

—

You’ve hit another milestone. Your sentence is now in the double digits. It’s not the lowest on the level, that honor goes to Ulaf, but still, not everyone lasts this long. All the Table Five guys come up and pat you on the back when they hear. All of them, except for Melshi.

You get it—or you think you do, at least. Because your time together has felt like a bubble, a separate realm from the rest of the universe. This milestone is a ticking bomb threatening to destroy that.

This milestone is one step closer to a goodbye.

“It’s inevitable, dream. Our ending was written from the start,” Melshi says, and goes into his cell. Lights out is near. You’re standing on the floor, arms crossed over your chest, loathing the tense points of his shoulder blades beneath the white and orange scrubs.

“Don’t say that.” 

“Why not? We both know it’s the truth.”

You stomp your foot and Melshi shoots you a look, squinting like he doesn’t recognize you anymore. You meet his stare unflinchingly.

He turns away a beat later, sighing through his nose. “C’mon, get inside.”

And that should be the end of it. You should let go of your churning frustration and join him in bed. Both of you should just keep on pretending everything’s fine, fall back smoothly into the same routines, and when your final shift comes you’ll leave without hesitation, never looking back. Just like the woman who left before you and the woman who left before her. 

You’re not like those other women, though. Everyone’s said so—you still smile, still laugh. Still dream. So you remain motionless, even as the buzzer rings out and the floor lights blink. 

“Quit fooling around, dream,” Melshi snaps, eyes darting between the floor and your face. His nostrils flare, mouth hard, but you know him better than anyone, see the cracks of worry behind his steely anger. “Either come here or get in your cell.”

Your eyes narrow. 

“Dream.”

The overhead bulbs switch off.

“Dreamer.” His fear is blatant now, the whites of his eyes shining. 

He’s not the only anxious one. Inmates are leaning out of their cells all along the block, some shouting at you to move, others watching with bated breath for a possible show of sparks and your bloodcurdling wails. You can feel Kino’s gaze drilling holes into you, and you know he knows nothing he says or does will influence you to move.

The only person who has that power is right in front of you.

Melshi.

The floor lights flicker their final warning.

Melshi, who’s snatching you around the waist and hauling you off the floor, all but throwing you into the safety of his cell. Melshi, who’s crowding you against the wall, grip harsh enough there’s sure to be bruises in the morning. Melshi who doesn’t want to say goodbye either.

“There are no inevitabilities with us. All we can depend on is each other, Rue,” you say, tilting your head back to lock gazes. He’s breathing harshly, chest heaving, but his eyes, oh his eyes are shining stars.

Defenses torn apart, emotions ripple across his face, one after the other like skipping stones. Anger, misery, panic, but underneath it all, what has your heart threatening to burst, is understanding. His right hand leaves your waist, seizing hold of your chin, forcing you to stay still. As if you’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Don’t you ever do something so reckless like that again,” he says through gritted teeth, accent bolstered by his turmoil. His thumb ghosts over your bottom lip then, belying his temper. “I won’t always be there to save you.”

You lean forward in his hold, and the mere fact that he lets you sink into his personal space, hands winding around his neck, is proof enough of his devotion.

Your lips hover centimeters away from his, noses brushing, and a teasing smirk curls at the corner of your mouth as you peer up at half-lidded eyes dark with desire. 

“Liar.”

—

The scarlet beam of a welding laser scorches the tender skin of your knuckles. It isn’t a severe burn—merely a painful inconvenience—but Melshi frets over it the rest of the shift and even afterwards in the sanctity of your shared cell, cradling your hand in his with all the gentleness of handling a baby bird. 

“You need to stay focused, dreamer,” Melshi chastens, making a tsking sound with his tongue.

But you’ve been christened your moniker for a reason. Mind frequently drifting into the clouds far, far above, envisioning alternate lives beyond your underwater cage, making a home somewhere even the Empire and all its corruption cannot touch. 

You grin back at him. “I kind of like it actually. We match now.”

Melshi glances down at his scarred hand, almost like he’d forgotten the mark was there. Something dark passes over his face, a shadow of a triggered memory. A chapter of his life he’ll never tell you about.

“Just don’t make it a habit,” is all he says.

—

It’s funny, in a way, how certain little elements of prison life start to feel comforting in their familiarness. A fresh set of scrubs every third day. Morning stretches with an ample variety of bedheads. Taga’s signing lessons. The boom of Kino’s voice. Flavorless mush in a tube. Feet padding along on chilled Tunqstoid tiles. The shrill whirs and whines of machinery. Melshi’s fingers trailing heat along your body, breaths and moans blurring together in the dark. 

You wish you could reach out and bottle these moments, use them as painkillers on days when Table Five finishes last and the floor threatens to burn holes in the soles of your feet.

Jemboc nudges your arm with his, wondering where you drifted off to this time. You nudge him back, then shrug your shoulders. “Nowhere far.”

—

The guards don’t give two shits about what you and Melshi do after lights out. As long as you hold out your arm for a contraception injection at the start of each month and your “womanly influence” continues keeping the men of Unit Five-Two-D coolheaded, they won’t even care if you fucked a different cock every night. 

They don’t need to care what happens to anybody dressed in white and orange—they’re not paid to care, only to press a couple of buttons and announce ominous messages over the intercom throughout the day. And you hate it. Hate them and the entire Empire manipulating the galaxy like a giant puppet on a string. 

But you’re also a selfish creature. 

What you have with Melshi, your messy and beautiful bond, has not only been allowed to grow in this gaping blind spot, but flourish. It’s like fate intertwined your paths. Like Narkina 5 was always in the cards from the get-go. And in the rare moments where Melshi looks at you with unbridled affection, that selfish part of you will sing joyously because this belongs to you, this is all you need to be happy. Nothing else.

The rest of the galaxy could burn to ashes.

—

You watch Melshi sleep, sometimes. Quiet, lower lip clenched between your teeth, not wanting to wake him up and lose the moment of indulgence.

You know what will happen if he catches you. It’s happened twice before and panned out the exact same way. He’ll give you a bleary-eyed look once he sees you staring. Followed immediately by unintelligible grumbling and a hand pulling you forward, burying your face into the nook between his neck and collarbone. A wordless command to go to sleep.

Holding his hand in the waiting lines and blowing him in the dark for three years, Melshi doesn’t mind at all. But watching him sleep, curled on his side with an arm slung over your waist, marveling at how much younger he looks while he dreams as the midnight hours tick by—that triggers the transformation of your strong and hardened lover into someone shy and wrongfooted. It does something funny to your heart, even funnier to your mind.

Makes you wonder how different he’d be if you’d met Melshi outside of prison, what would stay the same. Would he bring you flowers on your first date? Would he whisper mine in your ear and hold you flush against his chest while thrusting deep inside you?

Perhaps that’s the truth of why you keep watching Melshi sleep, to see glimpses of this alternate persona buried beneath the familiar layers. 

You look up when fingers close around your wrist. And for a third time, you find yourself looking into the eyes of a stranger.

—

You first kissed Melshi on your 1,352th shift in the semi-privacy of the refresher, taking his face between your hands and smashing your mouths together.

It was all clashing teeth and needy tongues, and you tried to sink into the experience for all its worth, to let yourself be consumed entirely. But your heart pounded like a wrecking ball against your chest, and a voice in the back of your head screamed stop it! He’ll take advantage of you, for fuck’s sake! 

The voice was momentarily drowned out by the wet heat of Melshi’s mouth, a teasing nip against your bottom lip, and a wave of pleasure rolled over you from head to toe, a dizzying and dearly missed sensation.

And then you forced yourself to pull away.

Melshi merely blinked at you, a little dazed looking, lips red and slightly swollen. Oh, Maker…

“Sorry,” you murmured, dragging your eyes away to look at a very interesting spot on the wall over his shoulder. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I just—”

“Liar,” Melshi cut you off, not unkindly. He smirked at your affronted look. “You’re always thinking, little dreamer.”

He wasn’t wrong. Your mind was always thinking, planning, imagining, drifting, analyzing. Still, you huffed and crossed your arms over your stomach. You’d rather he just reject you outright than continue exacerbating your discomfort.

“How often?”

You arched an eyebrow. “How often what?”

Melshi pinned you with a sharp look, like you were being purposefully difficult. He leaned closer then, and your breath caught as he brushed his fingertips over your temple, palm cradling your cheek. “How often do I cross your mind?”

You let out a shuddered exhale. You’d never been touched like that before. Touched like you were worth more than a quick fuck and a fake promise of calling again soon. 

“Melshi,” you began only to be silenced by a thumb against your lips.

“Ruescott.”

Something inside of you cracked wide open.

“Ruescott,” you amended, voice barely above a murmur. His breath was hot against your cheeks, sending your thoughts into a whirlwind. “You…”

Maker, why was it so hard to focus? 

You felt feverish all over. Every nerve ending ablaze. Melshi’s eyes never left yours. And he must have known. He must have.

“Ruescott,” you raised a hand, tentatively resting it over his, grounding yourself in the physical contact, “you never leave my mind.”

Something shifted in his gaze, a flicker of an emotion you couldn’t identify, and then Melshi lunged, swallowing your startled yelp with his mouth, lips colliding.

The sudden fierce moment had you stumbling backwards against the wall, but Melshi’s hand was quicker, protecting your skull from the hit. And you, you didn’t know if it were possible to pull him in any closer, hands fisted in the itchy fabric of his scrubs, his arousal grinding against your inner thigh, but fuck if you didn’t make an attempt. 

Seconds, minutes, hours later—time had no meaning anymore, you were drunk on the taste of him—Melshi was the one dragging himself away with a low groan. You made an attempt to chase after his lips, but his hold on your upper arms was impossible to squirm out of, fingers flexing warningly.

“Not here, dream,” he said before throwing a glance over his shoulder. 

Awareness of your surroundings abruptly came screaming back to you. 

Oh, shit, you thought, the heat in your core extinguished immediately. Kissing was one thing to be caught doing, but two inmates letting loose their combined pent up sexual frustration in a fit of raw, unbridled fucking was quite another.

“Tonight,” he muttered, an oath sworn with another searing kiss. “Tonight I’m going to take care of you. I’ll fuck you so good every man on every level will know.”

You barely stifled the whimper in your throat. Insecurity bit at you, a parasite you couldn’t squash on your own. “Promise, Rue? You won’t leave me high and dry?”

Or worse, wet and wanting. 

“Promise,” was the instant response; no hesitation, no thinking. And then, quieter, infused with such bleeding sincerity you felt the words like individual blows: “I’ll make you a second one, too. You’ll never have to worry about me leaving you.”

At the time you thought him romantic. Now you understand his real meaning: you’ll never know a day apart from him because your sentence is shorter than his. 

—

“I love you,” you whisper in the midnight hours. Melshi pulls you closer, lips pressing against the crown of your head. One of his hands rests on the back of your neck, fingertips gently rubbing at your pulsepoint. 

“When I…” he cuts himself off, and you can hear the quiver in his voice, the words catching in his throat. “When I dream about a life outside of here, you’re always there. Just you and me, somewhere warm…and...”

There’s a pause, a silence broken only by Melshi’s quiet exhale and faint snores from cells further down. 

Your eyes sting, tears spilling down your cheeks. “And?”

“And we’re happy,” he says softly. “We’re so fucking happy.”

—

Group showers provoke warring emotions twice a week without fail. 

On one hand, it’s nice to feel clean after sweating through your shifts. (Do you wish it didn’t require being tightly packed like sardines into a room with a bunch of unknown women and sprayed with frigid cold mist? Of course. But who’s gonna listen to your complaints? Nobody, that’s who.)  

On the other hand, you’re separated from your group, from Melshi. And it’s like there are thorns digging into your backside the entire time, from the second you’re hustled away by a guard all too happy to leer at you while his hand rests pointedly on his zaprod to the moment you’re reunited with Unit Five-Two-D in the work room. Only when you’re back in their sight again—each of your Table Five boys sweeping their eyes over you, looking for signs of harm, a single hair out of place—you feel like you can breathe easily again. 

You were brought here to be a peacekeeper amongst the men—negotiate with them, befriend them, be their punching bag or fucktoy, the method doesn’t matter so long as the conflict is settled—and on other levels you’d be expected to fulfill your duty to the utmost degree, but not here. Not here where Kino’s word is law and the men will suffer worse than a broken hand if they’re inappropriate with you. 

Inmates aren’t supposed to think of themselves as lucky, not on Narkina 5 of all places, but you do.

To the guards, you’re a sacrificial lamb in a den of lions. Rumors say more women leave in body bags than by walking. But they have it all wrong in your case. You aren’t a lamb and the men aren’t lions. 

You are a wolf, and they are your pack.

—

The odds are in Table Five’s favor today, resulting in a first place victory and flavored food waiting for you all in your cells. Between swallows the men banter and roughhouse like rowdy schoolboys, Xaul telling a crude joke about shaved banthas that makes you laugh so hard your ribs ache. Even Kino cracks a smile.

You lean back against Melshi’s chest, head tucked beneath his chin. Lucky, you think again, committing every detail to memory.

And you don’t know it yet—nobody does, not even the guards—but this is the last good day you’ll have at Narkina 5. 

Tomorrow, everything will change.

—

You wake up to shouts ricocheting off the walls, nearly falling off the cot out of alarm if not for Melshi’s fast reflexes. The morning buzzer hasn’t rung yet, floor still electric, but the whole block is an enraged swarm, an overwhelming cacophony of cursing and bellowing. Even more worrying, Kino won’t make eye contact when you look to him for answers.

And then you see it.

Melshi’s number has increased.

There’s a loaded moment where you can’t believe what you’re seeing. You tap at the screen with trembling fingers, thinking it’s a glitch, it has to be, because if it’s not then that means—Oh, Maker, you can’t even finish the thought—but the number doesn’t change, doesn’t flicker. Your insistent taps become slaps, palms aching, and you don’t realize you’ve joined in the shouting until Melshi’s pulling you backwards with an arm around your stomach.

“It’s not just me. Everybody’s tabs have gone up. Even yours, dreamer,” Melshi says hoarsely, holding you up when your knees go numb, sobs wracking your body.

“Why?” you whimper, shaking your head. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Rue. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

Through your tears, Melshi’s eyes hold more worry than you’ve ever seen, and you can’t stand it. You want him to reassure you, to tell you there’s been a mistake and everything will be okay.

He doesn’t. Instead, even worse, his arms tighten around you and he says nothing. 

Not one word.

—

Later, you’ll learn there was an attack on one of the Empire’s garrisons (a suspected rebellion strike, but you, along with at least half of Five-Two-D’s men, are still on the fence whether these so-called rebels even exist or not). 

Later, you’ll learn the Empire invoked the Public Order Resentencing Directive as a result. The reason why everyone’s numbers spiked overnight without warning. The reason why slight mishaps previously disciplined with a verbal dressing down are now punished with a zaprod to the gut, spine, head—wherever the guards think will hurt the longest. 

Later, Melshi will rub your back while you empty your stomach contents into the refresher, the sight of blood gushing from Ham’s busted and charred nose seared into your brain.

There’s tension in the air, every day intensifying a little more, squeezing your neck just a little bit tighter. There are nights where Melshi paces the length of the cell, fists clenched at his sides, and mornings where Ulaf can barely stand from his cot, gritting his teeth against the aches and pains of a weathered body pushed to its limits. 

You were brought here to be a peacekeeper. But there’s nothing you can do to quell this amount of rage. A rage you feel simmering beneath your own skin. 

There is a bomb in the heart of Narkina 5, ignored by the guards who shield themselves behind their electric floors and weapons. But what the fools fail to realize is it’s not a question of if this bomb will go off.

It’s a matter of when.

—

“We’re never getting out of here,” you whisper, pressed against the cot.

“Don’t talk like that. Not you, little dreamer,” Melshi scolds, breathing against your neck, and you fall silent, shuddering with every touch, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans.

In the morning you’ll trace the bite mark with your fingertips, thinking that the thin line between animal and human has never looked blurrier.

—

You first notice Tress’ twitchiness during the third hour of your shift. Eyes just a bit too wide, gnawing at his lip like he’ll receive a reward if it bleeds. Panic attacks happen from time to time, but usually to newbies who haven’t adapted to the routine yet. Not to longtimers like Tress.

He gets worse with each passing hour, dropping his tools, practically vibrating with an abundance of nervous energy. You’re not the only one who’s alarmed by his strange behavior now. Melshi casts subtle glances in Tress’ direction after every finished droid piece, while Kino stares him down like he’s ready to tackle him in the next breath if Tress does something remotely dangerous.

You lose track of him when everyone lines up to return to the sleep block. No matter how much you twist and crane your neck in either direction, you can’t spot a single glimpse of his blonde curls. Melshi squeezes your hand, and to everyone else he appears indifferent, staring straight ahead while waiting for Kino to give the order to keep walking, but you see the pinch between his eyebrows immediately. He’s just as concerned as you are.

Passing him safely in his cell has you breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Still, you can’t quite bring yourself to fully relax, a sense of impending dread lingering in your bones. You don’t say much during dinner, just sit on the floor of your cell next to Melshi, half-listening to his conversation with Taga—something about a new guard on the third level nearly frying a man to death accidentally—and half-keeping an eye on Tress who looks only marginally less weasley-looking than he did earlier. Marginally.

“Sleep, little dreamer,” Melshi tells you later on in the night, pausing your tossing and turning. His eyes are closed when you look at him, but you can tell by his wrinkled brow he’s hanging onto consciousness by a mere thread. You don’t understand how he’s able to sleep. Doesn’t he feel the wrongness? Like the walls are closing in, stealing the room’s oxygen?

Your mouth opens to ask him just that, but the agonized wail that pierces the silence doesn’t belong to you.

And you know, even before you’ve slid off the cot, before you see the body lying motionless on the floor at the end of the hall, that Tress is gone. 

—

The next day, a new inmate named Keef Girgo arrives.

And little do any of you know, he’s going to bring Narkina 5 to its knees.

[uwu-co-in]

https://oceans-apart.co.in

Synopsis: Bored out of your mind, you sign up on this random dating-cum-finding online friends site named "Oceans Apart", which lets you find people, based on the answers you fill up in the provided questionnaire. The major red flag about the app is you cannot post or see photo or video-content, but it let's you have an audio connection once you have talked for a certain time with the one you've matched. You throw all red flags down the drain when you get matched with a certain someone with the username @/iris.eyes, and an inexplicable feeling to give him your all overtakes you. How far are you willing to take this?

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader (College AU with no quirks)

Contents/warning: aged-up characters, Hitoshi is a year older than reader, female anatomy of reader is implied, mentions of sex, cursing, masturbation

Word count: 2.3k

~ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT ~

"Oh, I'm so done with this!" you flipped the book shut, slumping back on the chair. The semester exams were in a week, and all you had been doing was studying for it since the past two months.

"Y/N, you cannot give up now!" Ochaco spoke up, slightly concerned. "You had worked so hard for the exams!"

"Oh, all she needs is some distraction to un-fuck her mind, you know," Mina quipped, taking out yet another joint from her cigarette case. "Would you want one?" she offered it to you. You contemplated for a while, chewing your lower lip before shaking your head a no.

"Suit yourself then. See ya later," Mina skipped back to the balcony of your shared rented apartment. You sighed. If you were being completely honest, you wanted to try smoking one. Let's wait for that till the exams end, you thought, before picking up your phone, hoping to unwind before starting to cram again.

As you scrolled down your Instagram, an advertisement caught your eye. Oceans Apart, the title reads, and as you browsed through it's contents, you realised it's one of those 'people-connecting' sites where one can date or find friends from anywhere around the world. You clicked on it, slightly inquisitive. It's not like I am in a relationship or some, you thought, as the welcome page glowed on your screen. Moreover you were inquisitive about how the app would actually work, especially since it says there will be no photo or video content.

"This is a mistake," you grumbled out aloud, sitting on your bed, hunched upon your phone's screen. It had been fifteen minutes since you've been setting up your profile in the app, after dinner, and it's not yet complete. Not your fault that the app had to have the most thought-provoking questions. It would've been a lot interesting if you didn't want to jumpstart already.

First, the username. Something that reflects me, you thought, as you set it to '@/weird.shit'. "So unoriginal," you scoffed to yourself, before continuing to answer the questions. Finally when you were done, you had let out a sigh of relief. You spent a few more minutes scrolling through the suggestions, swiping right to a few after reading their bios. When you felt the sleep finally hitting you, switching off the phone, you kept it upon the nightstand. Probably will be bored of this thing by tomorrow, you thought before drifting to sleep.

"Holy shit, show me your profile! I'll make one too; the concept's so dope!" Mina squealed upon hearing about this unusual app the next morning, as all of you sat together around the common study table for the coffee. You passed your phone to her, warning her jokingly not to change anything, as she browsed through your profile. "This app; it is a big red flag," you continue, while drinking your coffee. "Yes, the concept's unique and shit, but it leaves so much room for frauds."

"Y/NNNN! You got three matches and two requests, didn't you even check or some?" Mina shoved the phone back to your face. "Did you even hear what I said just now, Mina?" You laughed, as you saw her wink in your direction, before sprinting to the kitchen to add more sugar in her cup. This woman has too much energy at this ungodly hour of the morning, you chuckled to yourself.

You looked at your matches, and felt a sudden wave of disinterest washed over you. Nights do that to you, make you lose of all rational thoughts. You decided to not text either of them, as you looked at the two requests you got. Still disinterested, you deleted them, as Ochaco looked at you from the rim of her cup while drinking the coffee.

"So, um, you want to date?" she timidly asked, and you sighed. "I don't know, just seeing where this takes me," and she nodded understandably. "Yeah, yeah. You'll do fine, trust me," she looked at you, straight in the eyes. "In everything. You'll do great."

It was almost mid-day, when a notification popped up from the app. You looked up from your book, and clicked open your phone which showed that you've been matched with someone again. You clicked it, as it took you to their profile page.

@/iris.eyes. Hmm, only a year older than you.

"He/him, pissed off. Psych major, last year. Cat person. Do you like peonies? I fucken love them"

How much can I person like a flower to incorporate it in their bio, you snorted a bit amused. You decided to drop in a text, asking something about peonies. Moments later, he texted back, with a link, geeking about the flower. You smiled, almost interested in this person. Another weird shit like me maybe, you thought to yourself.

By the evening, you guys had talked about stuff, and mutually decided to not give up names. Not just yet. You had told each other about regular stuff, your favourite artists, known about each other's majors, and were just delving into the subject of past relationships. Mina and Uraraka saw in surprised amusement and slight horror, respectively, as you gobbled down your dinner, and rushed to your room, wanting to keep chatting with this person.

"Go girllll!" Mina cheered you on, as you hurriedly washed your hands, tossing a big, cheesy grin in her direction. Ochaco looked at you, and asked Mina, "do you think it'll be alright?" Mina laughed it off, saying, "Uh Ocha, chill. It'll be alright. Now you tell me, how's your and Midoriya's ship coming along?" Ochako sputtered, trying to completely evade the question, and spared a glance at your figure closing the door of your room. She hoped you'd be alright.

You flopped on your bed after shutting off the lights, absolutely engrossed in chatting with the peony guy. You both had been at it, since the afternoon, and something was blossoming within you. You actually started feeling giddy at the thought that some day, you'd be able to meet him. While your usual composed self was never obsessed with people in such rushed manner, there was an aura to 'iris eyes' that you could not place a finger upon, but could feel yourself slowly immersing into it.

@/iris.eyes: what was your previous partner like?

@/weird.shit: so and so. nice but fucked up real bad later. what about you?

@/iris.eyes: never had one. gave up on finding one irl

@/weird.shit: huh, you didn't even try i bet. are your eyes really violet?

@/iris.eyes: yeah

@/weird.shit: and you're telling me you didn't have any luck with women and men alike? Huh

A soft ding interrupted your texting as you peered into your screen. You were now eligible for voice calls.

@/iris.eyes: do you wanna talk in a call

You looked at the message, gears churning in thought. Is this moving on too fast? Why are you feeling so attached already? You typed a 'yeah', almost afraid of what your actions would bring you to. As soon as he read it, your phone started to buzz, indicating a call. You timidly pressed accept, and gingerly placed it on your ear.

"Hello," a deep voice greeted you from the other side. The voice. You got a sudden rush throughout your body, as your face suddenly felt very warm. "Hello there," you squeaked out, in return. "Hey, um, so let's continue on where we stopped, yeah?" He asked, his loud voice almost boring a hole in your mind. After you managed a "yes, please continue", he started talking something about his high school when he tried to date a girl, but your head was swimming somewhere else. Initially you placed a few 'hmm's and 'yeah's and 'really's tactfully, but as he spoke, you could feeling yourself warming up. His gravelly voice seemed so close to you, as he talked on the phone, and you left out a small sigh, imagining what he could look like. Maybe a tall-ish guy, black nail polish, and soft kisses. Veiny hands, with rough palms, his voice was hypnotic. Even before you knew it, your hand was skimming on your stomach lightly, as you closed your eyes shut, imagining it to be his touch.

His voice worked like such a charm, as your fingers brushed over your clothed pussy, a feeling of excitement coursing through your body. Your hand grabbed your thigh, slowly parting your legs, and you imagined him kissing your plush thighs, mumbling on your skin words you can get drunk upon. He was still speaking something about the dating incident, and although you wanted so hard to concentrate on his words, all you could do was revel in the way he sounded, and your hand dipped underneath your panties, fingers touching the already sensitive clit. You were so wet, and as you slowly fingered yourself, the squelch of the wetness seemed to echo in your otherwise silent room. It was uncanny on how this guy had you wrapped around his finger, without giving up an iota of his identity. You let out another soft whimper, almost forgetting that he was still on line.

"and then, I did say... Hey. Hey there." His sudden calling you out broke you out of your trance as you snatched out your pants, and hurried to reply.

"Yeah, yes, I'm here. I'm sorry, I'm listening," you apologised, almost stumbling over your words, face flushing ever warmer. This is so embarrassing, not to mention, creepy.

There was a moment of silence, before he asked, "Were you... touching yourself?" You could feel your heart thump against your cheek where you held the phone. Your silence only spoke volumes. He did not really sound offended, did he?

"Were you touching yourself? Tell me, kitten. I heard your whimper, you know." Was it you or did his voice seemed to turned even heavier as he drawled on the pet name?

"Ye-yes," your voice shook, hands slowly sneaking inside your pants, and fingers ghosting upon the raw clit with an almost non-existent touch.

"Does my voice turn you on?" you could hear sheets shifting from his side, and it only worked to quell your embarrassment into arousal even more.

"Yes, it does," it were the only full words you had spoken during the entire call, till now.

"Good kitten, keep doing then," he cooed, his voice urging you to continue your actions. "But," he continued, "don't you need a name to moan out?" You let out a small sigh at that. "I, for one, would love to hear my name in that pretty voice of yours," he spoke, clearly with relishing the moment.

"Yes, yes, your name, oh God, your-"

"Hitoshi. Hitoshi Shinsou. What's yours, love?"

"Y-Y/N S/N. Oh, Hitoshi," you moaned out, plunging a finger into your pussy. The sounds somehow sounded even more crude now, that you knew his name. Hitoshi. Seems like a name made for you to chant like a prayer every night. A sane part of you was screaming that you just started texting this guy, and yet, your body was hearing none of it. You could only pay attention to the small grunts from the other side, as he groaned your name.

"Oh kitty, you're doing so great. Fuck yourself nice, I'll make you feel so much better when we meet, I promise," Hitoshi grunted, very apparent that he was pleasuring himself too.

"Hi-hitoshi," you took a sharp intake of breath, the motion of your hands growing even impatient, as you tried to imagine his hands grabbing your breasts and squeezing your waist. Your wrist was paining from pleasuring yourself for so long, but all you could focus on was his voice urging you to keep doing it, on how he'd fuck you hard and slow, drawing out every delicious moan your pretty little mouth could ever make. Your body shivered in anticipation as you could feel your high very near.

"Ohh, 'Toshi, I'm close!" You gasped, as your fingers moved in and out of your clenching walls. You licked your lips, closing your eyes as you rubbed your fingers against the walls of your pussy, not quite reaching the G-spot, but having you jerk your legs due to the building please.

"Cum for me." There was no pet name, no cooing, just a pure, powerful command of wanting to make you come undone. And you did; back arching and toes curling in pressure and you continued rubbing your clit to overstimulate yourself and draw on the moment. You couldn't help the moans that came out of you incessantly and for the moment, you forgot that you shared the apartment with two other people. You could hear his grunts, along with your sharp breaths, as you felt your heartbeat slowly calm down. He groaned for a few more moments, a pure treat to your eyes as you listened to him grow even louder, indicating that he had finally cum, before falling silent, with only the sounds of breathing in the background. As the dopamine ceased, you felt this irrepressible urge to curl up to a warm body beside you.

"Wish you were here," you sighed, even before you could process what you were saying.

"Oh Y/N, same," he sighed, clearly content. "I want to kiss you so bad. Can we talk for a few more minutes before we log off?"

"Yes, I would love it," you replied, as you bit your lower lip, reveling in the feeling of your high, a smile forming on your lips.

"Yeah, I want to see if you'd be up for a round two, in a little while," he chuckled good-naturedly, as you let out a small laugh along with him, instantly feeling your pussy clench. Oh, what was becoming of you?

Oceans Apart wasn't that bad after all.

~~~~~~

part two