#anyway. no two uses of 'stranger' have stood out to me so strongly as these two.

[tortoisesshells]

625, 5.

[writing-desk-rae]

Don't Get Me Started!

We are all made of Dreams Part 1

Posted on AO3

Hob get tricked into ranting about Shakespeare by his student. This would be fine, if His Stranger wasn't standing at the door.

Fandom: Sandman

Pairing: pre-Hob/Dream

Laughter came from the back of the class, rousing Hob from his marking. It was the last lesson before Easter break, and after a quick multiple choice test that was mostly for show, Hob had let his small A Level chemistry class entertain themselves for the rest of the hour. Hob smiled bemused, as the small group of, usually, quiet and well behaved students laughed themselves sick, talking over each other with glee. Unable to resist good cheer, he made his way over with a smile, which his student returned. He was well liked, as well liked as any teacher could be he supposed.

“Well now I have to know,” he smirked at them, causing more sniggering, “common, share with the class.”

“Oh it just some stupid game Allen read about online,” Emma replied, “it’s called Don’t Get Me Started, I’m not very good, but Allen’s putting on a show.”

“Want to join us Teach,” Allen, quiet but secretly trouble, was not hiding his shit eating grin.

Oh well, I never could resist a challenge.

“Very well, how do we play?”

Other student moved in closer, ever eager for good humour.

“we give you a topic, and you have to rant about it for as long as possible. We’ll time you, but cut off is 10 minutes.”

“Hit me.”

Hob had just enough time to recognise the flash of danger in the mirth filled eyes of his favourite student, and then-

“William Shakespeare.”

Hob froze. Oh shit. “This is a trap!” His student started to laugh, “ok who sold me out?”

“Three…two��one” fuck it “go!”

And he went.

On and on, all restraint out the wind, ranting about that good for nothing William Shakespeare what gripped and groaned about the hard work needed to be successful and even wished to make a deal with the devil for better writing abilities, and how everyone was so focused on Shakespeare the person, if we must discuss him can’t if just be about his work and, not like it was that good anyway, pretentious overbearing codswollop, and more than-

“Time!”

The class was howling as Hob panted trying to regain is breath and self control. He shook his head, and joined in the laughter, trying and failing to find out how his student knew to ask him that.

“Why Hob,” Hob spun on the spot towards the open door, where The Stranger stood with Mrs Collins from the office? “I had no idea you felt so strongly on this matter.” The smile of his face was blatant to anyone, practically the equivalent of howling laughter.

Hob stood, shocked to silence, and frozen in place, while his student stared at the stranger in his classroom.

“Hello Dream, how are you? How have you been keeping? I’m very well thank you old friend, thank you for asking,” and since when was the stranger sarcastic?

“No!” Hob cried out, and instantly flushed with embarrassment, shocked eyes of his student now on him. “It’s just…” 30 years late, then 2 visits in a month, what the hell. And how come he never got a name, not once in 600 years, but suddenly everyone and their aunt knows to call him Dream?

“what are you doing I’m my classroom?”

Dream raised an imperious eyebrow, “I’ll leave, shall I?”

“Oh Mr Gadling, your nice young friend here said he was in town for a surprise visit but had lost his phone! No way to contact you. He was just going to leave a message but I told him that it was the last day of term so he wouldn’t be interrupting anything, and he said he’d never seen you teach or where you worked so I thought-“

“Thank you, Mrs Collins, that was very kind.” Hob could feel the flush coming up the back of his neck.

“I’ll leave you boys to it then. It was lovely to meet you Morpheus,” and what the fuck, “do keep our Mr Gadling out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” it was almost a laugh in Morpheus’ voice as Mrs Collins swanned back out to the room, leaving chaos, as always, in her wake.

“That woman is a hurricane,” Allen said, with a great deal of respect, which is the only reason the Hob didn’t scold him.

“Forgive me,” Emma leaned over the desk behind her now facing The Stran-Morpheus, “Morpheus, as in the god of sleep and dreams?”

“Hence my friends call me Dream.” Hob caught The Strangers, Dreams, eyes. It was a promise, an invitation, an apology. Hob smiled, just a little.

“We’ll you succeeded on the surprise Dream,” Hob couldn’t help but chuckle.

“So did you, I had no idea that you disliked the works of Shakespeare so much.” Dream, and god was that weird and brilliant and earth shattering, tilted his head to one side, reminiscent of a curious cat, “tell me this isn’t about Dear Will.”

“Dear Will,” Hob couldn’t stop the instant sneering, practically spitting the name from his mouth.

Dreams eyes narrowed, then widened with realisation, and then the widest smile Hob had ever seen on his friends face spread from cheek to cheek showing far too much teeth. This was a dangerous smile as much as his eyes were playful and full of mirth. Like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Oh, it is.” Dream prowled, oh god he’s never moved like that before, closer to Hob, who moved back a step on instinct alone.

“What could possibly cause such poison against all the works of Shakespeare?”

Smug bastard.

“Ok there’s a story here, please share it!” Oh, thanks Alice.

“No.”

“Many years ago-“

“Dream!”

Laughter from the students, no loyalty there.

“Many years ago, during a pre-arranged night out with my dear friend here, I abandoned him to seek the company of a young amateur writer by the name of Will, after I heard him reciting one of Shakespeare sonnets from memory.” Ok that was a fairly well edited version of events.

Hob couldn’t help muttering under his breath about ‘Dear Will’ and Shakespeare and all writers in general, knowing he was giving too much away, and strode over to his desk, shoving his marking into his case. Dream could obviously smell the blood in the water.

“He was rather handsome.”

“Was he,” Hob snapped, snapping the case shut rather firmly, “I didn’t notice.

“Sung so beautifully from sweet lips.”

Hob grit his teeth.

“Talented tongue.”

Hob swung around to face Dream once more, seething.

Dream smirked, “for sonnets.”

His student were really laughter at him now, but at least they had the sense to keep in quiet.

“The way he trembled,” Dreams laughing eyes were the last straw. That's it one more word from him-

The look in Dreams eyes shifted, and Hob felt pinned in place, like a butterfly on a board.

“Tell me Hob Gadling,” Dreams smile softened into a true smile, one Hob knew so well, “why does my brief association with Will still bother you?”

Hob swallowed around the lump in his throat. You know why. You know, otherwise you wouldn’t have said all those things. You bastard.

The bell rang for the end of class, and end of day. Thank god.

“Right, all of you out! Have a good Easter, if you don’t want to come back to an exam you’ll tell no one about this.”

Awws and grumbling filled the room as the student flocked out, but a couple wished Hob a nice break, so he took that for a win.

“Walk me out.” It wasn’t a question.

Hob sighed, then followed Dream out the door, and the school, on to the sunny streets of London. “Shall we go to The New Inn?” We always meet at an inn, not my classroom oh my god what is happening?

“No. I must return to my work,” Dream watched Hob with his not-smile, “I look forward to our next meeting. Perhaps then you will answer my question.”

Hob swallowed again, “100 years?”

“No”

“Sooner?”

“Yes. And I shall give you answers as well, you have my word. But we’ll need more than a night.”

Hob couldn’t breath.

“I’ve got all this week free, no kids to teach. I’m staying above The New Inn, just, ugh, just come whenever.” Hob could feel the flush on the back of his neck return. Real smooth you smuck.

“Then I shall join you soon.” Dream stepped right into Hobs space, “until we next meet, Hob Gadling.” And with that whisper in his ear and the slight brush of lips over his cheek that may have just as easily been a brush of imagination, Dream was gone, as though he was never there at all.

His name is Dream. And he was flirting with me. That’s new.

Hob shook himself. Right, home. He set off.

And to the internet, he thought, time to look into this Morpheus god of dreams.

Thank you for reading! Comments feed me, so on and so forth

If this goes down well, I'll probably move the rest of my complete works over as well. If you can't wait that long, my AO3 is here.

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

--

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 

Dammit. 

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today. 

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit. 

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 

This just wasn’t allowed. 

-

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 

With both arms. 

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked. 

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened. 

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 

Jungkook's eyes went wide. 

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..." 

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted. 

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 

So close. 

Ruin me. 

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 

I want to ruin you. 

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However. 

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

-

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

--

masterpost

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Three)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, some fluffy angst too so it’s not really angst is it lmao

Word count: 1,988

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

“Oh,” the girl beside you seemed surprised that your eyes opened, squinting against the light, “you’re awake. How do you feel?”

You only groaned in reply. You definitely didn’t feel as awful as you recalled, but you still didn’t feel good.

“We’ve cleaned the remaining wolfsbane from your system, so you should make a full recovery,” the girl told you, her voice soft and soothing.

She definitely didn’t look like she was from here. She had brown skin, round eyes, and long black hair that she kept clipped back away from her face. Had you seen her before when you were dying? No, you couldn’t tell. Your memories from then were too foggy.

Wait, you were dying. How were you alive?

You opened your mouth to speak, but your eyes finally adjusted enough where you could see the person laying on a cot behind the girl. His eyes were closed, and you couldn’t tell if he was passed out or sleeping, but you just felt very strongly toward him. Much stronger than you’d felt about anybody ever. He was absolutely beautiful, and all you wanted to do was walk the couple feet of space between your cot and his to stroke his hair and cheek.

You didn’t know why you felt so strongly about a stranger, but you also weren’t questioning it. You were a curious person, yes, but you tended to just roll with the punches.

The girl noticed your gaze had drifted behind her, and she chuckled, “Would you like to be closer? It’s better for mates to heal if they’re as close as possible, and he needs all the healing he can get.”

Mates? That wasn’t something you’d heard about before, but you could probably guess what it implied. Either way, your head was nodding before your brain could really think much about it.

The girl stood and moved her stool out of the way before wheeling your cot closer to his until they were pressed together. Your face was almost right next to his now, and you observed every single detail of him. You didn’t even know his name or anything about him, but your heart and your instincts already told you you’d do anything for him.

“They’re cute,” Minjee commented once she entered the room as her partner continued to stand by the doorway and watch the two of you.

Prajya hummed in reply, her hand finding Minjee’s, “I don’t think the girl knows anything about herself. I told her he’s her mate and she seemed a little clueless.”

“Well, she is young,” Minjee noted. “Maybe nobody’s told her about creatures like her.”

Prajya nodded slowly before turning her head to look at her partner, “Did things with the other wolf go well?”

Minjee nodded, “Perfect, actually. Sura’s just finishing a few minor things and getting him settled into a bed to recover. His brother and the girls are still waiting in the living room.”

“I should go see if they need anything,” Prajya decided, pressing a quick kiss to Minjee’s cheek before she left.

Minjee turned back to the two of you after her girlfriend had left, but saw that you weren’t awake anymore. Your eyes were closed, one of your hands resting on Joshua’s as he slept. Minjee smiled to herself, thinking both of you looked like you were doing better already.

-

Josh still wasn’t awake. Even Hansol had woken up before his older brother did. Wonwoo had already brought Soomin and Suvi back to the house, and Joshua still wasn’t awake. It worried Hansol that he was asleep for so long, but Minjee assured him it was just because he had exerted his power too much.

“Is he going to get it back...?” Hansol wondered, his yellow eyes warily watching Joshua sleep beside you.

“Yes, with time,” Minjee replied with a warm smile. “You really have nothing to worry about, Hansol. Besides, he has his mate with him, so the healing will be faster.”

“Yeah, if he isn’t stubborn about it,” he muttered to himself, the human girl unable to make out what he said.

That was something else that was worrying Hansol. Joshua already had a mate and lost her. Would he really be so open about a new mate? Even if he did use the remaining energy he had in him just to save you, he did that on pure instinct. It didn’t necessarily mean things would go smoothly when he’d wake up.

“Who is she, anyway?” Kyung wondered, nodding her head in your direction. 

You were still sleeping beside him, your hand still in his. Neither of you had even moved, either, but Minjee also promised that was nothing to worry about.

“I’m not sure of her name,” Minjee sighed, “but my partners and I found her when we were out checking traps one night. My mate, Sura, knows where some of the werewolf hunters place traps regularly. He likes to patrol them and see if anyone was caught so we can help. We found her in one of them. Sura said she might be a werecoyote.”

“Werecoyote?” Hansol repeated.

The doctor nodded, “Yes. He noticed she doesn’t smell quite like werewolf, but she’s definitely something.”

The two mated wolves could admit they noticed the same thing but kept to themselves about it. They thought maybe it was just because of the wolfsbane.

The pair looked between the two of you. While Joshua seemed peaceful now, both Hansol and Kyung weren’t sure how he’d react when he woke up. They could practically already see the sour look on his face before grumbling something about not wanting a new mate. They hoped maybe they’d be wrong, but…

“What do you think she’ll do if he denies her?” Kyung wondered to her mate, unsure if you’d be as patient and understanding as Hansol. They didn’t know anything about you.

Hansol let out a quiet sigh, “I don’t know, but they’ll both just...eventually...” he didn’t even want to say it, but after a beat of silence, he quietly said, “die.”

-

“Werecoyotes are creatures I’ve never encountered,” Soomin hummed thoughtfully as she flipped through Beom’s book of creatures.

Once Wonwoo had returned home with her and Suvi, the youngest excitedly began talking about how Joshua had imprinted and saved his new mate. Meanwhile, the rest of the pack seemed shocked and almost horrified. They knew how Joshua was, and they knew he wouldn’t want another mate. What happened with Lilly messed him up pretty badly, but it also made him afraid of himself for a long time. He’d be too scared to be with someone else.

While Suvi was explaining what happened and the pack began spewing questions, Soomin was already looking through Beom’s stuff to find some answers.

“I think Beom had told me a story or two of werecoyotes, though,” Soomin continued.

“I met a few,” Yeji chimed in. “They didn’t really seem too different from you guys.”

“They’re not -- not really, other than some minor stuff,” Soomin said after finally reaching the page she was looking for. She scanned it over, using her finger to guide her eyes. “Overall, they’re essentially the same, just a little weaker -- smaller, not as strong, but they are a little quicker because of their smaller size. It makes them more agile.”

“Anyone can outrun that old man,” Jeonghan scoffed.

“Who’s the oldest, anyway?” Suvi asked.

“Nobody really knows anymore, but we just assume it’s Josh,” Jun shrugged. “Years start to blend together after a while.”

“Speaking of not knowing things,” Danbi spoke up as she looked around the packed living room, “where’s Soonyoung?”

“It’s nighttime, so he’s in town,” Jihoon sighed.

“I thought we were still being careful?”

“Since when does Soonyoung follow rules?” Seungcheol asked with a quirked brow.

Soomin cleared her throat to grab the pack’s attention and bring them back to the bigger matter at hand: you. Once they were paying attention again, she continued, “Werecoyotes have the same heightened senses, the same weaknesses, and the same instincts as werewolves. However, because they’re smaller and weaker, they recover slower and are more likely to die from things like silver bullets.”

“So Joshua’s new mate is essentially a hyperactive accident-prone child?” Wonwoo snorted.

Soomin frowned, finally looking up from the book to look at her mate, “That’s mean. And she may very well act mature. Just because they’re faster than werewolves doesn’t make them hyper.”

“You said werecoyotes are just werewolves, basically,” Jeonghan shrugged. “You’ve seen our pack.”

Seungcheol nodded, “Seokmin specifically.”

“Hey,” the young wolf whined.

“Let’s not judge her just yet,” Soomin sighed.

Jihoon raised his eyebrows, “You didn’t even meet her?”

“She was passed out,” Suvi was the one to explain. “Her and Joshua were sleeping beside each other when we left.”

“I wish I could be there when they wake up,” Seungkwan chuckled. “I’m sure that’ll be a mess.”

-

It wasn’t until the sun was about to peak over the horizon that Josh finally groaned and rubbed his eyes with one hand. The other felt warm with a light weight in it that kept him from moving it.

Wait…

The older wolf’s eyes opened before slowly looking to his left hand. He saw another hand in his and his eyes followed the arm up to the owner. He recognized your face. Not only did he remember what had happened as soon as he saw you, but he was bombarded with your face in his dreams -- well, more like nightmares. All he dreamt about was you and Lilly.

He wanted to snatch his hand away. He wanted to growl at you and wake you up and tell you to keep your hands to yourself. He wanted to yell at you to not touch him.

But he was too exhausted to do anything but lay there and glare at you with golden eyes.

“Oh, good,” a voice made him turn his head, “you’re finally awake.”

Joshua was briefly introduced to Prajya during his first check-up. She was a nice girl, but she had a little...bite to her. Josh liked her from the get go.

“See you’ve noticed your little friend,” Prajya chuckled. “You don’t seem too fond of her, though.”

His face scrunched up in almost disgust, “What is that?”

Prajya let out a snort at his reaction to his mate.

In your sleep, your nose wiggled a few times before you reached up to scratch it. Joshua rolled his eyes feeling his heart swell at how cute you seemed. He wanted his instincts to fuck off.

“I think you already know,” she replied in amusement.

“Who is she?” he asked.

The foreign girl just shrugged, “Beats me. We didn’t get a name from her or where she came from or anything.”

Unable to resist the curiosity, he slowly wondered, “...What happened to her?”

“Caught in a net that had barbs laced with wolfsbane,” she sighed as she leaned back against a wall and studied your face. “We were sure she was going to die until you showed up and--”

“Don’t,” he said sharply before dropping his tone to be only grumpy rather than angry, “mention it.”

Prajya just shrugged, “If you didn’t want it mentioned, you shouldn’t have done it. Kyung was right, you are a grumpy old man.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. Of course Kyung was gossiping with her old friends about him. The new alpha was a piece of work.

But she wasn’t really wrong, and even he knew that.

Prajya was silent as she watched Joshua watch you. It was clear that even though he openly showed his distaste for his new mate, his instincts were strong and hard to ignore. Even through the disgust and annoyance on his face, Prajya could see the love and adoration clear in his eyes.

The grumpy, old werewolf, and the young, carefree werecoyote. This would be interesting to see.

[yellowocaballero]

Percy Jackson meets a Landlord, a Tax Accountant, and a Tree Growing in Brooklyn

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair. 

He twisted his torso around, looking behind him with wide eyes. But the only person there was a white girl, no older than him. She was wearing a really severe expression to match her tight little blonde ponytail, and she was carrying a clipboard in both hands. There was a piece of string tacked to the clipboard, with a pen tied around one end. She looked like she asked the school librarian if she could help shelve books. 

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly. 

Damn. She got that one.  

Short fic that I am considering extending into a much, much longer fic. Thank you Ami for the translation of the card (I would definitely translate it yourself, it’s important). The entire backstory and premise of the AU isn’t immediately apparent, but if I extend the fic it’ll be more explained (spoiler: Luke Castellan, age 14, said fuck Olympus and moved all of Camp Half-Blood into Brooklyn to live in a child-run utopia). I haven’t reread Percy Jackson since I was 10, I barely remember anything that happens or any of the characters, so don’t expect much - but aren’t the best children’s novels the children’s novels that live in our head, anyway?

Rest under the cut. 

2005

180 Olive Apartments was a dump. Batman said so.

Batman felt very strongly about this, and as a result Percy did too. It was not Percy’s own, private, personal opinion. Batman informed Percy that the apartment complex was shabby, gross, not in Staten island, and smelled weird. Batman made a very convincing argument that they should live in Staten Island instead, which Percy had done his best to relay to Mom. Mom hadn’t been impressed. 

“This is the best place for us, Percy,” Mom had said, with that pinched look on her face. It was the ��Percy’s Making My Life Really Hard’ face. Percy had been seeing that face a lot lately. “Let’s just try to make this work, please?”

There was no ‘best place’ for them, and Percy and Batman knew that. But that was another thing Mom didn’t want to hear. 

So Percy had suffered in stoic silence as Mom dragged him out of the motel, made him miss the new episode of Pokemon, and forced him to ride the subway forty minutes into smelly Brooklyn so he could sit in this smelly chair outside of some smelly office in a smelly apartment. From inside the office, Percy could hear the faint rise and fall of voices: Mom’s, light and lyrical and very polite to people who were not Percy; and some landlord guy. His voice was really light and high too, but he was probably a real jerk.

Percy was so bored he could die. He sat up on his knees, turning around so he could prop his elbows against the dusty windowsill with grimy frosted glass. He plopped Batman down on the dirty windowsill, smearing his chipped feet through the tracks of dust. Parkour. He unzipped his pocket and grabbed his slightly dusty Golduck rubber toy, putting it in front of Batman. Golduck was from McDonald’s, so it had a bad attitude. 

Percy waggled Batman. You have a bad attitude, Golduck. You can’t live in my house anymore, because you get water all over the tile and you make the wood go bad. 

Golduck jiggled when Percy shook him. It wasn’t Golduck’s fault that the water went everywhere! Water just goes places sometimes. Golduck was a water type, so water followed him around and got into wood and made the wood go bad and made other people mad at him. It’s not Golduck’s fault, so don’t make him move!

I don’t want to hear it, Batman said. I’m going to make you live in a crummy motel and make your Mom go on a lot of boring websites looking for new places to live. The motel’s bananas are going to taste weird. Mom’s going to cry a lot. And it’ll be all your fault because you’re a bad kid. 

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair. 

He twisted his torso around, looking behind him with wide eyes. But the only person there was a white girl, no older than him. She was wearing a really severe expression to match her tight little blonde ponytail, and she was carrying a clipboard in both hands. There was a piece of string tacked to the clipboard, with a pen tied around one end. She looked like she asked the school librarian if she could help shelve books. 

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly. 

Damn. She got that one. Percy just rolled his eyes instead, sitting back down on his seat and stuffing his toys in his cargo pocket. He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even if he knew that he wasn’t too old to play with Batman and Golduck. What did tax accountants know, anyway. 

The girl sniffed, and made a show of inspecting the grimy windowsill and carefully making a note on her clipboard. Her pen had a pom-pom at the end. Percy bet she made hearts over the top of her ‘i’s. 

“Nick’s been slacking,” the girl muttered threateningly. “I’m surrounded by incompetents.”

“Why is it Nick’s job to clean the leasing office?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Don’t you have a janitor for that?” Was Nick the janitor? If this pinched-face little girl was harassing cleaning staff then Percy was going to file a complaint.

But the girl just looked surprised, as if the idea of having a janitor was foreign and strange. “No janitor would even make it through the doors.” But then her eyes narrowed, as if a thought just occurred to her. “Wait. How did you…”

However Percy did what, he would never know. The door to the leasing office cracked open, and Percy scrambled off his seat in excitement. The girl stood stiffly at attention, clipboard on her hip, as Mom stepped out of the office. She looked very tired, but weirdly relieved.

There was a man right behind her, just as white and blonde as the girl. Percy wasn’t surprised: he could pick out a real ‘daughter-of-the-manager’ type right away. The man didn’t look like every other landlord Percy had ever seen - no moustache, for one - and he didn’t look old enough for the part anyway. He wasn’t old, but he definitely wasn’t an elementary schooler. He had a broad, honest face, but he was too muscular and strong looking and landlordey to be trustworthy. 

 Percy decided the weird landlord, with a mop of yellow hair like golden thread and a scary eyebrow with one long scar cutting straight through, was twenty five years old. Clearly the result of nepotism in the landlord industry.

Mom smiled when she saw Percy, who quickly pasted on his most innocent expression. Her eyes caught on the girl, who was glaring daggers at him. The landlord’s eyes caught on Percy’s own wrinkled nose. “Percy, good! Are you making friends?”

It was not an innocent question. It was a ‘please don’t ruin this for me too, Percy’ question. It was a ‘I’m very tired and I need you not to make things hard’ question. Percy was well acquainted with them. But maybe the girl was too, because when the landlord looked at the girl she also abruptly quailed. “I hope you’re being a good host, Annabeth.”

The unfortunately named Annabeth and Percy glanced at each other in silent and instant understanding. 

“Yeah, Annabeth’s really fun!” Percy said instantly. He was not going to ruin this for Mom again. Or, at least, he would try to hold off ruining it for her as long as possible. Even if this stupid apartment wasn’t in Staten island. “She was telling me about -”

“Taxes!” Annabeth said smoothly, a much better liar than Percy. “And Percy was telling me about Batman.”

They both looked very cute and very low matinence on command, the perfect picture of children who did not make their moms live in motels. 

Percy was rewarded when Mom smiled in relief. She put a hand on Percy’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “I’m so glad. Percy, this is Mr. Castellan. Why don’t you say hi?”

“Hi Mr. Castellan,” Percy said obediently. “My name’s Percy Jackson, I’m in third grade.”

The landlord smiled at him with closed and tight lips, but it was Annabeth who spoke in interest. “Percy like Percival, King Arthur’s knight who searched for the Holy Grail?”

Uh, whatever? “Percy like the Greek hero Perseus,” Percy said shortly. “But I’m not Greek. My Grandma was from Guadalajara.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. She glanced at the landlord, whose expression was impossible to read. “Are you sure?”

“I know where my own grandmother is from!”

“She didn’t say that you didn’t, sweetie,” Mom said, and Percy guiltily shut up. “Percy, why don’t you and Mr. Castellan talk in his office for a little while? I have to fill out some paperwork, and I think you two have a lot to talk about.”

Percy looked up at her with wide eyes. Mom never left him alone with strangers. And paperwork already? “Are we moving in today?”

“You two talk for a bit,” Mom said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

When Percy was pushed into Mr. Castellan’s office it felt more like he was a Roman Christian being tossed into the lion’s den in punishment for heresy. And when Mom settled him into an uncomfortable and weird-smelling chair in front of the teetering desk and kissed him on the temple before leaving the office, he abruptly felt like he had jumped into Grandma’s book of Bible Stories. 

Mr. Landlord’s office was as dirty and run-down as the rest of the complex. The big box AC rattled with clinks and whirrs as it shuddered against the sticky summer heat, and the landlord’s desk was covered in thick stacks of paper and chewed-up pencils. When he sat back down behind the stained wood, the chair seemed just a little too big for him. He sunk strangely in it, the vinyl flaking off and floating into the ground. There were a lot of crayon drawings taped to the wall, and there was a light dusting of crumpled post-it notes on the ground. 

Mr. Landlord tried to smile at Percy. Tried being the operative word: when he smiled it was too thin and without teeth, more pained than reassuring. It didn’t reach his watery blue eyes. 

Percy hunched on the rickety chair. This guy set off every alarm bell he had, which was plenty. And no, it wasn’t just because he was a guy, Ms. Brown. For added security and self defense, Percy casually slid a capped ballpoint pen on the old desk in front of him into his sleeve. Batman was always prepared, and Percy was too. He can hack up any creepy guy and protect Mom any day of the week. 

The landlord smiled wider, even worse. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Luke Castellan, and I’m the supervisor here. Running into Annabeth first thing’s pretty bad luck, huh?” At Percy’s unimpressed eyebrow, he quickly added, “Annabeth keeps the whole place running, really. She’s...pretty convinced that this complex rests on her eight year old back, so she’s a little stressed out all the time. If she gets frustrated at you, don’t take it personally, okay?”

So she does help shelve books. Percy was a keen judge of character. “Why does she do it? You can’t make her be the superintendent. That’s child labor.”

Luke Castellan stared at Percy unblinkingly. He blinked about as often as a snake, but five times as quickly: as if he didn’t want to let you out of his sight for even a second. Finally, he said, “I’m fifteen.”

Percy gave Mr. Luke the stink-eye, clearly communicating that he did not trust even fifteen year olds (who were high schoolers, and even less trustworthy than adult-adults) as far as he could throw them. Especially fifteen year olds like Luke: who were too tall, with too-mature eyes and a particularly unhappy expression. Percy communicated perfectly that there was nothing trustworthy about this family of juvenile landlords, but he was just too polite to say so. 

But that just made Mr. Luke sigh, as if he was tired instead of angry. “Annabeth’s my...ward, I guess. I just look after her. But she doesn’t like being looked after, so she makes up for it by looking after everyone else. I’m not saying I do a good job.”

He’s a landlord and he has a ward? Percy finally perked up. “So you’re like Batman?”

Mr. Luke stared at him unblinkingly, before finally saying, “Yes, except Batman doesn’t have superpowers.”

Percy had the sense he was being made fun of. “You don’t have super powers,” he accused, crossing his arms. “Nobody has super powers.”

Mr. Luke smiled, wan and weak. “Not even you, Percy?”

Percy froze. 

Five seconds too late, Percy made himself laugh stupidly. People were quick to believe that Percy was stupid, and sometimes Percy helped them think that. It got him out of trouble sometimes - not always, but enough that it was useful. “If I had superpowers, I’d run super fast everywhere just like the Flash!”

But Mr. Luke just hummed, and flipped through some of the papers in a folder in front of him. Percy abruptly began sweating. Mom had given him those papers. They were records. This was like every time a principal had drawn up ‘proof’ against him in a court of law. “Your mom said that you both had to move out of your Queens apartment because it flooded.”

“I didn’t unscrew the taps,” Percy said reflexively. “They just came loose! I didn’t even touch them! I didn’t touch the boiler either!”

“The boiler?” Mr. Luke flipped back a few pages. “Oh, right. Your school.”

Percy slouched in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, stewing. He always sounded guiltiest when he denied it. He should go back to playing dumb. Pretend that he had no idea what water was. He had gotten away with it when he was six during that one birthday party at the aquarium, but something about being a third grader meant that people expected that you have basic observational skills. 

It was stupid. There was no way to win. If he said that he didn’t do it then he sounded guilty. If he tried to point out how it was impossible for him to break the boiler and destroy the gym or whatever, using facts and logic and a rhetorical argument like the Youtube videos taught him, then they just told him he was making excuses. Sometimes Percy had the impression that everybody just wanted him to supervillain cackle like the Joker and brag about how terrible he was. Maybe he’d give that a shot once he entered middle school. It seemed like an evil teenage thing to do. 

Percy Jackson was a liar, a thief, a cheat, a menace, and a bad kid. There was nothing more to be: not for someone like Percy. 

But Mr. Luke didn’t threaten him, or give him ‘one last chance’ or anything. He just leaned forward, hands folded on the desk. His thumb was worrying at a small starburst scar on his hand, betraying a strange nervousness. 

“Percy, can I talk to you man-to-man?”

Percy, who did not like men, squinted at Mr. Luke suspiciously. “Why.”

“Because this isn’t a topic for a kid. It’s a topic that...kills children, and turns them into little adults. I wish I didn’t have to broach it with you. But I think that you haven’t been a kid for a long time, Percy, and I don’t want to insult you by pretending otherwise.” Mr. Luke frowned, and Percy found himself involuntarily straightening. What was he talking about? “You were right. There was no way for you to have flooded your apartment, much less twice. There was no way for you to ruin your gym, or damage that aquarium. Much less...everything else in your file. No kid is that much of a miniature hurricane when he isn’t even trying. It sucks. It’s not your fault. And now your Mom’s credit score is so bad that she can’t afford another apartment. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw our really generous listing in the paper, she would have had to move you two away from her home.”

She was thinking of moving them both to New Jersey. Percy’s lips tightened, and he knew that Mr. Luke saw it. 

“This is an apartment building that provides shelter to a lot of special cases, just like you. It’s...full of kids who break things when they don’t mean to. Kids with a parent couldn’t handle them, or who couldn’t protect them. We have a lot of ways to keep families like yours safe, and to give you a home.”

Percy stared at Mr. Luke. He seemed deadly serious, as serious as anybody had ever been to Percy, despite the crazy stuff he was saying. Safe? Safe from what?

Safe from those weird, giant dogs that chased Percy and tore off half his jeans? Safe from that old lady in the deli with the slobbering bag and beady eyes? Safe from broken water pipes, from ruined floors and busted walls, from Percy himself? 

Finally, all Percy could think to ask was, “How do you know that I’m a special case?”

“Because not just anyone could see that listing,” Mr. Luke said. “And - uh, no offense - but you are one of the most obviously inhuman children I’ve met in my life.”

Percy’s jaw dropped in complete, unadulterated rage, and without even stopping to think through his actions he withdrew the ballpoint pen from his pocket. He uncapped it, fully intending on doing something dramatically yet harmlessly violent with it, but he didn’t get the chance. 

The ballpoint pen turned into a gleaming bronze and silver sword. Percy screamed. Percy fell out of his chair. Percy did not get the opportunity to look cool and dangerous at all.

****

And now Percy had Greek god stuff to worry about!

Didn’t Percy have enough problems? He couldn’t stay in a school, they couldn’t keep an apartment, their new landlord didn’t blink enough, and now he was the kid of a Greek god? Apparently he had been spending his entire life running from monsters and he just hadn’t noticed? That explained the stupid scary dog!

Percy knew much more about Greek gods than the average kid, since Mom was a huge fan. Yeah, Mom! Apparently you were a big fan! Jesus, Mom!

What’s this dumb stuff about Poseidon! That had freaked out Mr. Luke, and made him ask a lot of questions like ‘are you sure’ and ‘there’s a lot of minor gods who like to pass themself off as someone more impressive to mortals’. Then Annabeth, who had been listening at the door like a sneak and who ran in all heroically when he almost accidentally stabbed Mr. Luke, freaked out and called his mom a liar. His mom!

Then Percy tried to stab her with his new sword. Mom made Percy apologize for trying to stab Annabeth. Mr. Luke made Annabeth apologize for insulting Percy’s mother. Percy was beginning to worry that he and Annabeth may be mortal enemies. 

Mr. Luke had tried explaining a bunch of stuff about monsters and ‘the Sight’ and why Percy’s life was terrible to him, but Percy already knew his life was terrible and he wasn’t interested. Percy ended up furiously swinging his new sword at a tree outside as Mom signed a bunch of forms and talked with Mr. Luke some more, but she hustled him home pretty quickly afterwards. 

Percy didn’t give the sword back. Mr. Luke, wisely, did not ask for it back.

Mom kept on making a face on the subway back to the motel like she had been waiting her entire life for Percy to ask all of these questions, and she was preparing herself for it. She kept on glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, watching Percy kick his feet against the hard plastic seat. It was obvious. But Percy didn’t have anything to say to her. They spent the rest of the day in silence, just focusing on packing up and getting everything ready to move. Jacksons were practical, Mom said. 

Jacksons were practical. Percy was practical, too. It was only in the deep pits of night, as Percy lay in bed holding up his sword and watching it reflect the soft lamplight above the creaky wooden table where Mom was doing work, that he asked. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sword was really cool. It was pure bronze, with the middle gleaming pure silver. There was some Greek writing inscribed down the center that Percy had no idea how to read, although he had spent an hour scouring the internet looking for a translation. The handle was tough white cord, stiff and starchy but fraying a little at the edges. 

Mr. Luke said it was named something, but Percy forgot what it was. He had been a bit busy almost impaling the guy. 

Mom’s fingers froze over the keyboard. Her back was turned to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her spine was stiff and rigid. 

Finally, after a long silence, she said, “I didn’t want you to think that there was anything different about you.”

“So what?” Percy asked, his eyes pricking rebelliously. Stupid water. “You let me think that I was a bad person who ruined your life?”

“Percy, no!” Mom turned around, expression crumpled. The dim light showed the heavy bags under Mom’s eyes in sharp relief. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby. None of this is your fault, you understand? That’s what this business with your father means: that none of it was your fault. That’s all it means.”

If that was true, Percy thought, then why couldn’t she have told him before?

But Percy was afraid that if he said that, then he would start crying, and Percy was way too old to cry. Only weak little babies cried. 

“I’m sorry my dad’s a loser who ruined your life, Mom,” Percy said.

“Percy…”

But Percy refused to answer her, putting his sword down next to him and pretending to go to sleep. He kept it next to him in bed all night, gripping its hilt tight, and the firm and cool pressure of the steel in his hand soothed him when the thought of a father didn’t. 

***

They moved in the next day.

The next day! Percy was livid. He barely had any time to pack up his toys into his backpack, and Mom didn’t even have time to help him back up his blue Spider-man suitcase. He had to do it all by himself, and then Mom came in and told him he was folding everything up wrong and that he had to redo it. If she had so many problems with it, she should have helped him and gave him more than one day to move out of their dumb motel! 

When people moved on TV there were always moving vans and buff dudes in baseball caps. But Percy was much better at moving then any of those idiots: all it took was a suitcase (of clothes and toiletries and stuff) and a backpack (of toys and school supplies and stuff). 

Percy’s backpack had the Power Rangers on it, in glossy plastic. Its contents were always the same, through every move: Batman, Golduck, Bulbasaur, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Raphael, a stegosaurus with a missing tail named Hedward, and a little book full of pictures of him and his mom and some cards and stuff. There was a picture of him and Grandma in the apartment in Staten Island that he lived in until he was six, and a 5th birthday card she had given him six months before she died. Written inside, in her looping and faded script, was a sentence Percy had read over and over and over again. ‘Tu angel de la guarda trabaja horas extra por tí. Así que acuérdate de decirle gracias ¿Sí, mi niño?'’

Percy was inclined to agree with her. God should pay his guardian angel overtime. That, or pay one to go to Olympus and collect child support.

The image was funny to Percy - the idea of his angel with her wings and halos showing up at Poseidon’s door and tapping her watch as she held out her hat. It was so funny, it was the first thing he told Mr. Luke when they met him at the gates to the apartment complex. Mom was huffing behind him with her two suitcases, while Percy was busy juggling his own backpack, suitcase, and sword. 

Mr. Luke looked alarmed to see the both of them, although Mom had called ahead and arranged to meet him here. Worse, Annabeth was next to him, still holding a clipboard. She didn’t look alarmed, just mad. 

“Did you bring Riptide onto public transportation?” Annabeth squawked. “You have no sense of discretion!”

Was Riptide the name of the sword? Whatever. Percy would have named it Hurricane. “I know words you don’t know too, you don’t have to brag,” Percy said flatly. 

“Yeah, the gods are filthy little child support evaders,” Mr. Luke said easily, instantly endearing himself to Percy. Mom rolled her eyes as she put her suitcases down, but she was clearly fighting a smile. “Don’t worry, I dragged them to court. Sued them for all they’re worth.”

“How on earth did you do that?” Mom asked, interested. 

“Trickery and rhetoric,” Annabeth said proudly.

“Swords,” Mr. Luke said. 

“What did you squeeze them for?” Percy asked, excited. 

Mr. Luke winked. And he still didn’t ask for his sword back. Maybe he wasn’t all bad. 

The apartment complex itself wasn’t nearly as big as a lot of Brooklyn complexes, looking more like the little apartment complexes in Queens that Percy was used to. It was three separate three-story buildings arranged in a square, with one side holding the small leasing office and a parking lot. It was open-air, with the apartment doors opening directly outside. There was a really big courtyard in the center, and despite himself Percy got a little excited.

It was awesome. There was a huge, sprawling tree right in the center of the courtyard. It was gigantic, bigger than any tree Percy had ever seen in his life. It seemed like it didn’t even belong in New York, like it was a transplant from the California Redwoods or Canada or something. Its leaves were waving in a nonexistent breeze, and something about it just seemed so magical and otherworldly to Percy. 

But that was only half of the awesome things. The other awesome thing was that there were kids everywhere.

The tree provided shade to a couple scattered gangs of kids, sitting around and laughing. There was a rusty set of monkey bars, which some kids were playing on, and there was a big dirt rectangle where other kids were hitting each other on the head with wooden plastic swords. There were groups of girls eating lunch, and a gang of boys playing soccer in the corner that made Percy immediately want to jump in and play too. Percy dominated at soccer. 

“The East and South buildings are where we all live,” Annabeth informed Mom. “The West building is where the training rooms and storage rooms and administrative rooms - that’s my office - and everything is. It also has guest units for the local spirits that like to visit. We just had ten Bacchae stay for a week. They were backpacking to Woodstock. We have very good inter-community relationships here.”

“That’s amazing,” Mom said faintly. Mr. Luke was smiling faintly, eyes fixed on the big tree. Percy found himself staring at Mr. Luke, watching with interest the soft but firm pride in his eyes. “Luke said that this property’s safe from…” 

She glanced at Percy quickly, cutting herself off. But Annabeth just huffed. 

“I almost got eaten by monsters twenty times when I was seven,” Annabeth informed Mom imperiously. “We’re not babies. Connor Stoll says if you’re old enough to get eaten by monsters then you’re old enough to know that they exist.”

Percy decided immediately that he liked Connor Stoll, and maybe even Annabeth too. 

“The tree protects us,” Luke said. “Wherever the tree is, we’re safe. Not even the gods date step foot beyond the leasing office here.”

“Because of the tree?” Mom asked. 

Luke smiled - sharp, piercing, and strange. “Sure, let’s say that.”

But Mom just frowned. She looked over the courtyard of kids - some of whom were already starting to whisper and stare. Annabeth waved at a gaggle of identically blonde children, and for the first time Percy wondered who she was the daughter of. Probably the bossiest god. Maybe Athena. Or, like, Hephaestus. Definitely Hephaestus. 

“You said that there’s nobody over eighteen here,” Mom said to Luke. “Luke, there’s a six year old on those monkey bars.”

“If you’re under thirteen, you live with someone over thirteen,” Luke said to her. Annabeth was still frowning in disapproval at Percy’s sword. He stuck his tongue out at her. “Two people to a unit, we try to pair the oldest with the youngest. Lucy lives with Henrique, he’s seventeen. It’s the best we can do.”

“Surely there has to be someone…?”

“Adults have never helped us. They never will.” Luke looked away sharply. “We’ve been in Brooklyn a year. You’re the first adult who’s made her way here. Most other parents with a kid as powerful as Percy would have -”

He cut himself off sharply, glancing at Percy, and Percy scowled up at him. He thought that Luke was being honest. Maybe he was just another old guy afraid to say what everybody else knew. 

“I’ll help Ms. Jackson settle in,” Annabeth said suddenly. She held out her hands to Percy, who reflexively hugged his luggage to his chest. “You guys are in unit 5. It’s on the bottom floor. If you flood it, then we can fix it okay. Give me your luggage, I’ll put it in your unit.”

Percy stared at her, overwhelmed with that simple signal of care. No threats about if he flooded it, no warnings or sickly sweet faux-concern. Just understanding, and acceptance. 

He silently gave her his bags. 

She seemed surprised when she felt how light they were. Percy shrugged awkwardly at her face, crossing his arms tightly around her chest. “Don’t touch my stuff, okay?”

“Sure,” Annabeth said, before pausing a beat. “We have a TV in our place. #1. Do you want to come over tonight and watch Winx Club?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, overwhelmed. “Sure.”

Mr. Luke put a hand on Percy’s back as Annabeth guided Mom to a corner unit. Percy couldn’t help but notice that the door to the unit was already propped open. Wait - there were people going in and out!

There was a tall, buff teenager, carrying two chairs underneath each arm. There was another group of three teenage girls, carrying a table between them. Two other younger kids were carrying boxes and laughing. They were bringing everything into the unit, and other younger kids were running in and out with cleaning supplies. 

From a distance, Percy saw Mom stop in her tracks. Annabeth tugged at her shirt and got her to bend down, whispering something in her ear. A boy with sandy brown hair ran up, taking Mom’s suitcases from her and bringing them into the unit. 

“Your Mom mentioned that you were missing some furniture,” Mr. Luke said. “The Hermes and Aphrodite kids all pitched in to get your home looking like a home. I hope you’ll like it.”

Percy clutched his sword to his chest, speechless. 

Mr. Luke smiled down at him, that same wan and weak smile, and put a hand on his back. He gently pushed Percy forward, towards the tree. “Come with me for a minute?”

They silently approached the sprawling, ancient tree. As they came closer, Percy could see that its bark was gnarled and knotted, with perfect handholds for climbing and perfect boughs for resting in the summer sun. He could already see a few kids resting in high boughs, taking a nap in the humid and sticky sun. 

“Percy, I’d like to introduce you to someone.” Mr. Luke’s voice was quiet, like he was in church. He looked up at the tree, peering far into the leaves as if he was trying to find something hidden within them. “This is Thalia. Thalia, this is Percy. He’s the newest member of the family. He’s also your cousin.”

Cousin? Percy looked up at Mr. Luke, eyes wide. “I’m related to a tree?”

Tilted up at the tree, Percy couldn’t see Mr. Luke’s expression. Maybe that was on purpose. “Thalia’s a kid, just like us. Daughter of Zeus. I used to think that she was the closest thing to an adult I knew, but...I’m as old as she is, now. I guess one day soon I’ll be older than she ever got to be.” 

Oh. The tree was, like, from the ashes of some dead girl. Awkward. Percy stared at the thick and arching roots of the tree, feeling weird.

“Thalia, please protect Percy. I can already tell that he’s going to grow up to be very strong and brave. Please help us make sure that Percy never has to be strong. That he’s never brave. I can already tell he’s going to need a lot of your help.” He looked down at Percy for the first time, and for the first time Percy could see just a little warmth in those icy blue eyes. “You’re going to have to work overtime for him. So make sure to say thank you, Percy. Okay?”

“Thank you, Thalia,” Percy said obediently. He bowed awkwardly, uncertain what to do. The sword scraped awkwardly against his thigh. “Thanks for letting me into your home.”

“Welcome home, Percy,” Mr. Luke said, and for the first time Percy almost believed it. 

[racheloveyunho]

Till death do us part - 3

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2479

TW series:  Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain  a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug,  kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: reader got slapped, reader run away from home, abusive and manipulative father, swearing.

The beating of my heart quickened. For the past two years I had dreamed about him every night and now, I was finally able to see him again.

"San!" I shouted happily, finally looking back at the handsome boy. He smiled back at me but his expression became cold again as he stared at Jinyoung. My so-called husband let my wrist go and hardly swallowed his spit.

"Y-you! What are you doing here?"

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

Chapter 3

"What? Do you know each other?" I looked up at San for an answer

"His father is a customer of mine. I worked for him a couple of times, right Mr Hwang?"

Jinyoung stepped back with fear written all over his face. He was afraid of San. I somehow understand his feeling, I knew too well how San could be intimidating.

"I wouldn't ever touch Y/N again if I were you." San said with the most cold voice I ever heard in my life "I get upset pretty easily and I can't think straight when anger come over me. I guess you can understand."

"Why are you protecting her, I don't understand!" My fiancé shouted with fear in his voice.

"Because she's mine."

I blushed madly at San's words. Hana squirmed like a fangirl and clapped her hands while making embarrassing noises. I wished she wasn't there at this moment, I was over embarrassed and she wasn't helping me AT ALL.

I hide my face behind my hands. I wasn't paying attention to the two men's conversation anymore until I felt San's grip lightly tightening around me.

I looked up, Jinyoung was gone without my noticing.

"Are you okay?" San whispered to my ear.

‘Does he have to look at me like that? He’s driving me crazy!’

"He left?" I asked.

San nodded before letting me go. Strangely enough, I felt a wave of sadness and disappointment from the loose of contact even though I couldn't say it out loud, San would probably think I'm crazy since I met him just twice.

Quickly, Hana went to my side, grabbing my arm and shaking it with all her strength.

"Are you THE San?" She asked San with her eyes sparkling.

The moment I saw San's smirk I wished I could have run away from here. I looked at Hana with wide eyes and whispered "Could you stop being obvious for God's sake!"

It was no help, Hana was too happy to finally meet the man I talked about every day and she wasn't paying attention to what I was saying "You are indeed handsome!" she exclaimed "Do you have a girlfriend?"

'Oh God.'

"I don't..." he paused "yet" San looked at me with his sharp eyes.

I turned back and hide my red face the best I could. I was not the kind of girl to turn shy easily but San had this effect on me, he made me feel weak in my knees and made my heart raced.

Meanwhile, Hana was the happiest in the world at this moment, she knew that I never was on a relationship before so she was surely excited to play cupid for the both of us.

After a quick chat, which boiled down to Hana asking questions about everything and nothing, San told us that he was going back to his work and had to leave. 

He walked away, but I followed him and with all the courage I could muster up, I grabbed his wrist to stop him. He looked back at me with a surprise expression.

"Can...Can you give me your phone number? It will be easier to see each other this way..." I looked straight at him, facing his usual strong gaze.

However, I wasn't as brave as I wanted to pretend and San wasn't dumb, my shaking hand grabbing his strong wrist was a clue enough for him to know how I really felt.

He smiled at me with a sincere and warm smile for the first time, his dimples in full display, before he gave me his hand. I looked at it, confused, and put my hand on his own.

"Not your hand, give me your phone. Don't you want my number anymore?" he laughed at my action and again, my face turned red.

"Yeah, sure!" I stuttered, giving him my phone. He quickly entered his number on it before giving it back to me.

"Let's talk more often then, Kim Y/N"

Hearing him saying my whole name was something special, a mysterious feeling grew inside of me but it wasn't an unpleasant one.

I waved my hand at him as he walked away, disappearing from my sight.

"I think I need holy water" Hana breathed out.

It was already 9 pm, the sun was giving way to the dark night where the moon reigned as a queen.

It had been a long day, a very long one.

I met Jinyoung, my unwanted fiancé, San helped me against him and Hana hadn't let me get home until I admitted that I had a crush on San.

It was weird to say it, I wasn't familiar with this new feeling. Was it love? Was it possible to feel love towards him already or was it just a physical attraction?

I threw my head on my pillow and yelled on it while shaking powerfully my legs on the bed.

Yes, San was handsome, but he wasn't just that. He had something that attracted me and I couldn't explain what. It was like he was the answer of all my doubts and all of my issues. He was strong and intimidating but at the same time soft and reassuring. The last time I’ve felt this safe in someone’s arms was in my mom’s.

Bip Bip.

I looked at the small screen, a small notification indicating me that I had a new message.

I jumped out of my bed and stood up, excited by just some few words.

San

"Did you get home safely?"

Me

Yes I did! I hope you got home without any issue too :)

No answer.

San didn't seem like the talkative type. I had to choose a topic to continue the conversation or else he wasn’t going to answer.

Me

So...How old are you exactly? Do you still live with your family?

To my surprise, San answered me right away and we both talked for a few hours, totally forgetting about sleep. He talked to me more than I initially thought he would and I was glad for it.

I found out that he lived with his father, mother and older sister in Seoul in a rather affluent neighborhood. He was the same age as me and told me he had always been home schooled so he had a lot of free time.

He was following his father's path and helped him with his work.

I didn't asked him about it but I could easily guess that his dad worked with politicians since he San and Jinyoung knew each other from his dad’s work.

After a three hours long talk, I finally fell asleep while writing a message to San.

San

Sleep tight Y/N.

I slowly opened my eyes when the warm morning light hit my face. It had been a long time since I last sleep that well. I stretched my body and directly texted San.

Me

Hello San! Sorry I fell asleep, I slept well, maybe thanks to all the things that happened yesterday lol!

I waited some minutes but he gave me no response. Was he still asleep?

I went downstairs and only found my father, eating alone. The table seemed bigger than usual without Jin there and I couldn’t help but think about my brother, I hadn't see him since the argument between him and my father and it was worrying me.

"Where is Jin?"

"I don't know where he is living now." My mouth opened at his statement. My unstable eyes were reading his face, trying to figure out and hoping that I heard things wrong.

"What do you mean? He lives here!" I shouted, my voice sounded less confident than usual.

My worry was growing at an incredible speed pace. I felt unwell for some reason and was afraid to understand the real meaning behind my father's word.

"Not anymore. He's an adult now, I no longer have any obligation to keep him home."

I couldn't believe what I was listening to. He kicked his own son out? How dared he?

I was about to shout out at him but his phone rang at the same moment. He took the call and started talking with an unknown correspondent.

His face quickly dropped and then glared at me with angry eyes. I gulped, unaware of the situation.

When he hung up, he angrily stood up and harshly slapped me on the face "What have you done!" he yelled.

My eyes were watering. He hurt me. It was the first time he laid a finger on me.

"Mr Hwang called me! His son, Jinyoung, met you yesterday and want now to end your engagement."

"It's for the best, I never wanted this anyways" I replied curtly.

He was about to slap me again but put down his arm and chuckled darkly "Fine, if you want to be a brat then I will treat you as one"

My father strongly grabbed my arm and dragged me to my bedroom, he was so angry and so harsh, he was, without any doubt, going to leave bruises on my body.

He threw me on the bed and took my phone with him.

"You won't be needing your phone anymore, I'm confiscating it. In the meantime, I want you to think about your behavior." he said "If you don't want to listen to me, then I will show you who is in charge here." he walked away "Ah, and just to say, this week you will took a plane and will go abroad to study." He informed me before locking the door and leaving me alone in my room.

"You can't do this! You can't force me to leave!!" I banged on the door fiercely. It was a nightmare, it couldn't be happening. I sat down, my back against the door and my head on my knees, silently crying. 

It was already late at night, I didn't do anything the whole day. The only thing I could do was crying.

I finally wiped my tears away and stood up, determined to leave this house. I took a small bag and filled it with some clothes, wallet and other essential stuffs. I waited until no more noise could be heard in the house and quietly leave the house through the windows.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it will be, I found myself a new talent that night.

I went to the bus station, it was too late so there was no bus anymore.

Shit

I walked to the nearest hotel and went to the reception.

"Excuse me, I broke my phone and I really need to call someone to pick me up to go home. Is it possible to use your phone?" I asked with puppy eyes.

The male receptionist fell right away for my charms and gave me his phone, glad to help a young girl in distress. I thanked him and called my brother.

I silently thanked my good memory and was glad I remembered all the numbers on my phone. "The person you have called is unavailable right now..." the voice announced.

“No way...” my shoulders fell from disappointment. I had no other choice but to let him a message on his phone.

"Hey Jin, it's me... Listen, I had some...problems with dad, he took my phone away so I don't have a lot of way to reach you. I heard that he kicked you out, I hope you did find a place to sleep, hope you're eating well, hope that..." I sniffed, not able to contain myself anymore. "I'm scared Jin, dad wants me to study abroad cause my fiancé brook our engagement. I picked some stuff and now I'm out of the house but I don't know where to go and..." my voice broke because of all the emotions I had inside of me. "I'll call Hana and see if I can sleep at her place or else I'll sleep in a hotel. I love you, I'll call you again tomorrow." I stopped the voicemail message.

This time I tried Hana's number, fortunately she was a phone addict so she would answer to my call. "Yes my love~?" I heard her sleepy voice "Hey Hana" I said, my voice still trembling "What happened? Are you okay?" Her voice suddenly turned serious.

I quickly summarized my situation to her. "Listen, sweetie. Tonight I can't come to you, you have still money right? Sleep in a hotel and tomorrow you will took the first bus and come to my house, okay?" I agreed and hung up before asking a room to the receptionist.

The hotel room was half smaller than mine but it was better than nothing. There was a phone on the side of the bed.

'Should I call San?' I wondered while looking at the phone. Without a second thought, I entered the number of San and waited.

"Hello?"

"San! You answered!" I shouted through the phone, happy to hear his voice "I...I'm sorry I..."

"Where are you?" he asked "What?" I answered, surprised.

"You are not fine, are you? You're voice isn't as clear as usual."

I waited a long moment, I couldn't control my tears as they were running down my cheeks.

"Where are you?" He insisted.

"Dongdaemun hotel, room 322"

"I'm coming. Don't move." his voice softened.

My wait didn't last 20 minutes until I heard a knock on the door. I jumped and opened the door as soon as I heard the sound.

Here it was, the silhouette I liked the most

"San..."

He hugged me tightly as if there was no tomorrow. I noticed how he was sweaty and out of breathe, probably from running to get to me faster.

I breathed in his unique scent, it was woody scent, something fresh but still manly. I felt safer with him, everything was easier when he was by my side. I didn't want to let him go and my feelings seemed mutual as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I was like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet.

We sat down on the bed and he let me cry my heart out, listening every word I had to say. I told him my story, my conflictual relationship with my father, how harsh he was with me and my brother since my mom passed away and my arranged wedding with this Hwang Jinyoung.

We talked for two good hours about my problems but also about the future we both wanted.

As time went on, I started to feel sleepy, my eyelids were heavy and my mind was cloudy. I slowly closed my eyes until I fell into a deep sleep into San's arms. He gently patted my head to help me fall asleep.

"Don't worry Y/N, I will protect you from now on."

San hummed a song before falling asleep by Y/N’s side.

-----------

----------- 

I hope you enjoy this story so far! In the next chapter, Y/N is going to make a choice for her future life so the story will truly start in the chapter 4.

Of course, I’m not encouraging anyone to run away from home, mostly if you are minor.

Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter~

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2 @xduygu-arsx @joongiebug

[simsadventures]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky might have been a confident ladies-man before the war, but now, he is just a shy boy in a body made of steel. All he needs is a nudge, and a few directions as to how to make a woman scream his name again. And Bucky is a fast student.

Warnings: fluff, shy!Bucky, smut, like… so much smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY)

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 2829

A/N: This is a story for @this-kitten-is-smitten​ ’s writing challenge, my song prompt being Strangers like Me from Tarzan. I used the whole idea of the song and a few sentences of it, those will be in italics. Also, it ws supposed to be a drabble challenge and here we are, so… ups? Obviously I’m unable to write short things.  #this-kitten-is-smitten-challenge

I know I incorporate a lot of books in my fics, and if it annoys some of you, please, let me know. It’s just… I’m and English Major and I have to read a shit-ton of books, and I’m trying to use it somewhere :D Here I used Native Son by Richard Wright xx

Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy it, and as always, tell me what you thought, feedback is gold :) xx

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

Sitting in your room, trying to read Native Son to get your mind off of the last mission, which was all too close to comfort for you. Nobody got really hurt in Tokyo, just a few bruises here and there, but it was one of the more difficult missions, and so it stuck with you for a bit longer.

It also didn’t help that despite your relationship with Bucky was blooming, and everything seemed to have been going in the right direction, even after 5 months of a relationship, you two still hadn’t done it. Not that you were one of those people building a relationship on sex, not at all. But you were extremely attracted to Bucky, and you just wanted to explore things with him. Sooo many things.

But whenever you tried and talk about it with him, Bucky would always steer the conversation in another direction, suddenly being interested in what mission would come, or if you two would have dinner at this new Indian restaurant in the city. And after a few conversations like these, you just gave up on meek questions and letting him get away without actually answering you.

No, you would cut straight to the point, and you wouldn’t let him leave the room without actually talking things out. You would be ok if he told you he wasn’t ready for sex with you, you’d totally accept that. But you just needed to know where the two of you stood. If it had some kind of a future together, or if you two should just move on.

Bucky didn’t even know what awaited him. He came to your room, oblivious to the plan you had constructed in your mind, and he was just happy to spend some time with you. And when he came into the room, he still thought you two would have just a nice evening together. But oh boy, was he wrong.

You were in the middle of Superman vs Batman when you touched his biceps in a way he knew you weren’t just getting comfortable.

“Can I ask you something, Bucky? And this time, you will actually answer me?”

Even in the darkened room, you could see his Adam’s apple bob heavily, as if he was facing the worst kind of interrogation. You could feel him fidgeting under your fingers, his muscles tightening and loosening, as stress hit his body.

You didn’t want to make him feel that way. It wasn’t your intention, but you knew this was the only way to go about it.

“I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but just, please. One small conversation and we’ll both know what’s going on,” you looked at him, expectation written all over your face, and even though Bucky really didn’t want to delve into this, he couldn’t avoid the topic forever.

“Alright,” he barely whispered, and a relief spread through your body.

You sat up straighter and paused the movie, making Bucky repeat your movements so that the two of you could sit opposite of each other.

“I know you don’t wanna talk about it, and I’m gonna make it quick, Buck. I gotta know if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of sex as such, or if it’s me, or if-“

“It’s definitely not you, Y/N! I hate myself for making you feel that this had anything to do with you at all. No, baby! You’re perfect, just the way you are, and I’m a douche for not showing you. It’s just… This is something I’m not proud of, and that’s why I didn’t tell you anything.”

You nodded and took his right hand in both yours, squeezing it tightly and letting him know that it was a safe space, and he could tell you anything in the world. You two could get past it, you were sure of it.

He sighed and squeezed back, getting to the point.

“I’ve been with quite a few ladies back in a day, and just like any other man, I enjoyed it thoroughly. But ever since I was the Winter Soldier, I wasn’t with anyone, except few rare kisses or make-out sessions, and I’m just not sure if I got it anymore. I’m afraid I’d disappoint you, and I really don’t wanna do that. So I just chose to not do anything at all.”

He ended his little speech, staring at the blankets underneath you, not ready to see your expression.

But you wanted him to see it. You put two of your fingers underneath his chin, lifting it up gently so that your eyes could meet. And what he saw took his breath away.

There was no hate nor disappointment in your eyes, not at all. You were looking at him like he was someone important like you were in awe he was really sitting there in front of you, and the love you radiated made him feel dizzy.

“I could never be disappointed in you, love! Never! If anything, this makes me love you even more. I wanna explore with you, Bucky, I wanna show you so many things. Can you feel what I feel, right now?” You asked him, guiding his hand to your chest, where your heart was beating strongly.

“I wanna know, Y/N. Can you show me? Everything I’ve been missing, I wanna feel it all,” He whispered to your ear, biting your earlobe in the process. It made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You’ve been touch-deprived, and that was an understatement of the year.

“I will gladly be your guide, my love! But I think sex is like riding a bicycle, you can never really forget it. You just have to trust me.”

He didn’t give you an answer in words. Instead, he leaned in and captured your lips with his, revealing at the feeling of being so close to you. He kissed, just like that for a while, before he slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your hip on the way.

It made you gasp into his mouth and gave him the perfect access to your mouth. You two made-out many times before, so he was fairly familiar with your mouth, and he knew his way around. There was still a certain amount of nerves from what was to come, but a determination was the more growing feeling in him. He wanted to make you feel good because you deserved it, for all those months he gave up on the intimacy between the two of you.

 The hand resting on your hip travelled north underneath your shirt, lifting it up as it went, and Bucky could feel your warm skin underneath his fingertips, making him shudder in anticipation.

He ended up right under your bra, caressing the silky material in his hand, letting the feeling of the soft material travel right to his groin. It didn’t take much for Bucky after such a long wait, and he could feel himself growing hard.

Whenever he’d got to this point with you, feeling his cock growing stiff, he would push you away and go to his own room, either breathing it out in a cold shower or just jack off to the idea of you writhing underneath him.

But to finally have you there, even if no clothes had been shed yet, it was already better than his imagination. And he suddenly wanted to do so much more with you.

He swiftly pulled the shirt over your head, his eyes roaming the newly freed skin, and anticipation grew inside him. But as soon as his confidence rose, it also subsided, remembering that he didn’t have any practice in 70 years.

But fortunately, you saw right through him, and the second his grip on you loosened, you took over. Not that you were a sex-goddess, but you weren’t scared of little touching, and the horniness and determination combined to create a deadly mix.

You also freed him of the confines of his shirt, letting your hands explore his skin. You started on his neck, caressing it from both sides before you slid further down to his collarbones, which you swiped with your thumbs. Meanwhile, your mouth sucked on his pulse-point, making it really difficult for Bucky to think about anything, let alone his nerves.

While you pinched his nipples between your fingers, you licked his collarbone, earning a shudder from Bucky. Your hands were then splayed on his stomach, scratching it lightly with your fingers only so hard that you left the pinkish lines behind your fingernails. You mouth worked each of his nipples, biting it ever so slightly and making circles with your tongue around them.

By the time you reached his waistband, Bucky was a panting mess with his fists clenching around the sheets.

But before you could pull his pants and boxer-briefs down, Bucky grabbed your hips and threw you back on the bed, laying you down and rushing to lay himself on top of you.

“My turn,” Bucky mumbled to your ear, and while his left hand was grabbing your hip and squeezing it, his right hand was fighting the clasp of your bra, trying to get the damn thing off of you. And though he might have been rusty, he managed to do it reasonably quickly. What you didn’t know at the moment was that he didn’t unclasp the pins, but he tore them with his fingers. He would buy you a new bra, hell, he’d buy you a full Victoria Secret store if he could do this with you for the rest of his life.

He threw the bra somewhere behind him, not really caring where it landed, before he latched onto your breasts, sucking and licking like a madman. While his mouth was working on your left nipple, his hand was kneading your right breasts.

You never had anyone playing with your tits so passionately nor for so long, and so when he finally ceased his actions, you were ready to come. Your thighs were rubbing against each other, trying to relieve you in some way.

Bucky’s attack continued as he travelled further south licking stripes along your abdomen, circling your navel, and licking a line along the ridge of your pants. Before you even knew what was happening, you were completely bare in front of Bucky. His strength never ceased to amaze you.

Bucky stopped moving, just watching your naked form, splayed on top of the white sheets like a goddess. He could swear he has never seen anything sexier than you, there.

His head got in the way again, telling him that he forgot how to pleasure a woman with both his fingers and his tongue, and so he was just sitting there, staring at your welcoming pussy, not trusting himself to move.

You sensed his hesitation and took the first step.

You lifted your own hand, and hill one played with your nipple, the other went straight for the target, spreading your lips and gathering the slick on your fingers before you touched your clit and moaned out loud.

Bucky felt like he was in a wet dream. The very likely love of his life was touching herself in from of him, putting a show specifically for him. You had your eyes closed, your fingers moving on muscle memory. It was when you slipped a finger inside you, and your back arched that Bucky was finally able to move.

“Every gesture, every move that she makes, makes me feel like never before”, Bucky thought for himself as he finally gathered enough courage to pleasure you himself. He slipped from his seating position to lay on his stomach between your legs, and without as much as a word, he dived in.

You released a loud moan, unable to contain yourself anymore. It was all too much. Just being close to Bucky would always make your blood run faster, but this? This was from another world. He was playing with you, you could tell.

He tried to discover which moves made you sigh, which made your tremble and which made you scream his name. He combined sucking, tongue and finger fucking with clit sucking, and in no time, you were squeezing your thighs around his head, chanting his name like a prayer when you reached your climax.

Bucky almost licked you dry, revealing at the sudden power he had, never wanting to give it up. He loved the idea of making you feel this good, because when he looked up, you look thoroughly fucked, with your hair all over the pillow, your cheeks flushed red, and your lips slightly parted, breathing heavily from the intensity of your orgasm.

And Bucky was no longer afraid. His cock was aching in his pants, and when he finally pulled down his pants, it sprang right up against his abdomen. Bucky couldn’t even remember when was the last time he was this hard.

You watched him with hooded eyes, and when you tried to sit up to reciprocate the pleasure, he pushed one of your shoulders back, letting you know he wanted to lay still.

“I’ve waited too long, doll. There will be enough time for you to suck me off like the good girl you are, maybe in the second round, but right now, I need to be inside you. This pussy is calling for me,” he growled the last part and guided his cock between your folds.

He bumped into your clit with the head of his cock several times, which already had you gasping again.

“Are you gonna be my god girl and take my cock in this tight pussy?”

You stared at Bucky, and you weren’t sure when did your sweet, shy boyfriend turned into a dirty talking sex master, but you weren’t the one to complain.

You just nodded your head, and stretched your arms, bringing Bucky down to kiss him with all you had. His tongue was licking inside your mouth like it was the most natural thing for him to do, and you never wanted to leave that bed. You saw before you a new horizon.

Still kissing you, Bucky guided his cock inside you, and thanks to your slicked pussy, he could slide right in.

You gasped, holding onto him for dear life, and from the pants and gasps, you could tell Bucky was doing the same. He stilled inside you, trying to let you get used to his girth, but you didn’t want to wait any longer.

You moved your hips upwards, rutting your pelvis against his, creating friction needed for your clit, and it made your pussy squeeze Bucky inside you.

He moaned like a wounded animal and bit your shoulder before he started thrusting into you with all he had. He delivered short but powerfully strokes, bottoming out every time, and you were 100% sure you’d feel him inside you for days to come.

You were both covered in sweat in a few minutes, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered at the moment was to make each other come. And when Bucky put his thumb against your bundle of nerves, putting pressure against it while still hitting your deepest spots, you opened your mouth in a silent cry, raking your fingers down Bucky’s back, squeezing his cock inside you as your climax took over your body.

Bucky hissed at both the sensation of slight pain caused by your nails and by the way your pussy was trying to milk him off everything he had to offer. It took only a few more stuttered thrusts before he pushed deep inside you and came with the sexiest groan you’ve ever heard.

You could feel the warmth spreading through your pussy as his seed painted your walls and leaked out of you, with Bucky’s cock still pushed deep inside of you.

You were both panting messes, trying to gather your thoughts and will your muscles to move one last time that night.

Bucky pulled away from you, which cause you to white from the lack of contact between the two of you, but he only rolled on his back, bringing you with him.

You could feel his cum still oozing out of you, but you couldn’t care less at that moment.

“We’re never getting out of this bed,” Bucky mumbled against your hair, and you had to giggle at his exclamation.

“What if we’re hungry, huh?” You asked with a smirk, feeling Bucky’s chest rumble with a deep laugh.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll feed you, alright.”

You swatted his chest playfully and kissed his now puffy lips.

“You’re an idiot!”

He pulled you impossibly close to his body and whispered, “Yeah, I am. But I’m your idiot, and that means something.”

That sure did mean something. You smiled and let the exhaustion of your body take over your mind as well, the idea of having this breathtaking sex all the time now lulling you to sleep.

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @itsunclebucky​

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #8: A Real Howler in July

Words: ca. 5,500

Setting: modern AU

Lemon: no

CW: none

Was there anything worse than inclement weather?

Anna didn’t think so.

Not at this very moment anyway, buried nearly up to the waist in snow as she was. She hefted her ski pole out of the drift behind her with a grunt and plunged it haphazardly into the snow ahead of her. The screaming winds cut through her hard shell jacket like it was made of tissue paper and Anna’s body locked up while trying to shiver violently at the same time. Slush had gotten into the boots a size too big for her, squelching against her socks in an icy, soggy mess. The forest of dark pines offered scant protection against the swirling flurries that obscured her vision in a confetti of white. 

Snow, in July.

That was supposed to be a joke, just something people said— not a real thing. Wasn’t it? Anna was just grateful she’d chanced upon that bizarre store in the middle of the woods, otherwise she’d be doing this in jean shorts and a tank top. 

Oaken’s Trading Post (and Sauna)— that’s what the sign had said. It looked like any other cabin, but inside was a shop, sure enough. Anna had been greeted by a large man behind the counter in a thick wool sweater, suspenders, and an impressive mutton chop-mustache combo. This was the titular Oaken. 

The big, tall Norwegian in the loud sweater had given her a funny look when Anna explained why she was there and who she’d rented her cabin from. “Kristoff did not say anything when you booked those dates?” 

Wait, he knew this would happen?! What the hell!

Anna shook her head, failing to repress a full-body shiver as the heat of the shop started to thaw her out. Oaken clucked his tongue. “I swear, that boy. If it is not ice he is very clueless. I told him, ja? I told him he should not put his place on the line for strangers to use.”

Anna pressed her lips together, fighting a smile at the term “on the line”. She eyed the brick of a monitor behind the register that looked like it might be a gateway computer, and wondered if he still had dial-up. Or internet, period. 

Oaken caught her looking and shook his head. “No service up here now, phone or computer.” 

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any winter appropriate clothing here?”

Oaken gave her a wry look and gestured to the back of the shop. Their “winter” selection looked very sad indeed. “Not many tourists come to the mountain. Even those in the town stay away in July,” he said as Anna surveyed her options in disappointment. 

Well, fine. It wasn’t ideal, but Anna wasn’t about to give up. She slapped her wallet down on the counter. “Whatever you got? I’ll take it.” 

The sum total of what Oaken had was a bright fuchsia hard shell jacket, boots in a size 9 (she was a size 8), blue ski pants, gloves, a wool hat, and five pairs of long underwear. She took it all. 

Anna looked longingly at the sauna as he was ringing her up, but she couldn’t risk losing daylight. She settled for taking some extra time in the toasty changing room, putting on three pairs of long underwear (she couldn’t get the last two on without going up a size), and every other article of clothing that would fit under her new jacket. Everything else was shoved into her backpack. 

Oaken kindly lent her his own ski poles, the caveat being that she return them on her way back. 

Anna stood on the deck, looking out at the frozen landscape. She didn’t have much experience with this kind of weather, but that wasn’t going to stop her. One thing Anna wasn’t, was a quitter. She was going to find this damn cabin if it was the last thing she did.

What started as heavy snowfall soon escalated into a full blizzard. Anna kept herself going by composing a strongly worded review for Kristoff’s Airbnb in her head, one that got more acerbic with each step.

So. Here she was: three hours from Oaken’s, slush in her boots, pushing her way forward by kicking through the drift she’d sunk down. Anna could practically feel the blood freezing in her veins, suffocating the vital warmth that kept her functioning. She’d been seeing the markers Kristoff said would be there, but each one was taking longer to find.   

Anna unstuck her foot from the snow and took a giant step, pitching forward heavily. That was a mistake. The drift crumbled beneath her and she went down, tumbling head over heels through a sloping copse of trees until she rolled to a stop in a small clearing. Face first, of course. 

Weakly she pushed herself up, casting about for the ski poles. They had landed close by, and as she fumbled for them something caught her eye: a warm contrast against the frigid, grey landscape. There, at the edge of the clearing, was an honest to god cabin, with smoke puffing from the chimney and brightly lit windows shining like a beacon against the dark. 

She’d made it. 

Anna stumbled towards it, the tantalizing promise of warmth so close it made her whole body ache. The wind surged around her the closer she got, forcing Anna to swerve into it just to stay upright. She struggled up the stairs; leaning heavily on her poles. Leveraging herself onto the porch, she shuffled to the door, practically collapsing against it.  

It was locked. No key under the mat where there should’ve been. Seriously? Anna let the ski pole dangle from her wrist as she raised her fist and brought it down heavily on the door. “Is anyone in there?” She called out. “Please I just need to get out of the storm!”

She couldn’t hear anything over the wind and no one came to the door. 

Anna knocked again. 

Nothing. 

Anna continued knocking, and the blizzard grew stronger, as if it took personal offense to her presence. 

There had to be someone in there— Anna was pounding on the door now. “Please open up! I promise I’m not a murderer or anything!” She winced. Great sell Anna, that definitely won’t creep them out, because real murderers never say that. “Please, I’m supposed to be staying in Kristoff’s cabin and this is the only one around, and I’m really going to freeze out here if you don’t—”

The door swung open and Anna almost toppled to the floor. She grabbed for her ski pole and braced it against the deck. A waft of warm air curled around her exposed face and Anna looked up to see who had come to the door. 

Woah.

Okay so a model was using the cabin. Cool. Neat. 

The woman who stood there looked like the poster child for Nordic beauty, with long, braided platinum hair and shocking blue eyes. She was dressed surprisingly light (or so Anna thought) in an oversized, cable knit sweater and black leggings, no socks. Anna guessed she was about her age, maybe a little older—possibly mid to late twenties. 

The wind gave another disembodied wail, and Anna gestured inside. “Um, can I…?” 

The woman stared at her, but after a beat stepped aside silently to allow her in. 

Anna breathed a thank you as she trekked inside, basking with unspeakable relief in the heat and abrupt stillness from the absence of raging wind and snow. She turned around to find the other woman watching her from the door, leaning her back against it with one hand clasped around the knob. “So…who are you?”

“I believe I should be the one asking you that.”

The woman had a point, though Anna still wasn’t entirely sure whether or not this was the cabin she’d rented from Kristoff, and maybe he’d double booked it or something. She wouldn’t put it past him.  

“Sorry— yeah, I’m Anna.” She gave her a big smile, but her companion remained poker-faced. “I rented a cabin from a guy named Kristoff Bjorgman, on Airbnb? He, uh, never mentioned I should expect snow, which seems like a pretty big oversight, all things considered.” She looked pointedly out the window. 

The woman closed her eyes at that and sighed. 

“I take it you know him?”

“Yes.” 

“So…is this not his cabin then?”

“It is not.” 

“Okay…” 

The woman gave Anna a wide berth as she moved away from the door to the nearest window, peering out at the squall. 

“You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t be here.” 

“Well, yeah, of course I shouldn’t. I should be in my own cabin, the one I rented,” Anna said lightly, watching her reluctant hostess wring her hands. She seemed unduly nervous, even allowing that she’d been intruded upon by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. 

“Could I…? I mean,” Anna let out a nervous little laugh, “you’re not going to make me go out in that and try to find my way in the dark right?” 

She looked at Anna as if seeing her for the first time. The wind screamed, rattling the windows in their frames. “No… of course not.” She swallowed visibly. “I’ll…,” she gazed around the cabin as if it were the first time she was seeing that too, like Anna’s presence had thrown her whole life out of orbit and everything she knew was now foreign. 

She took Anna in from head to toe— in all of her frozen, slowly melting glory. A trickle of thawed snow slipped down the back of Anna’s neck and she shuddered. 

“You need to get warm,”she said gravely. 

“Yes please,” Anna exhaled gratefully. “Um, sorry I still don’t know your name.” 

“My name is Elsa.” She gestured over her shoulder. “I’ll run you a bath. You can leave your boots and jacket by the door.” With that, she was off down a hallway and out of sight. 

“Thank you!” Anna called after her, quickly shedding her outer layers. Well, this wasn’t the worst development in the world. 

Anna let out a dreamy sigh and sank lower in the tub. Steam drifted in lazy tendrils from the surface of the water and her eyelids were getting heavy. Before she fell asleep, Anna dragged herself from the bath and stuffed herself into her last two pairs of long thermal underwear. Elsa had graciously provided her a cable knit sweater and fleece joggers. 

She came out of the bathroom and wandered into the living room just as Elsa finished tucking a sheet into the couch. She stacked an enormous pile of blankets on the cushions. “I would give you the bed, but I think you need the fire more. Hopefully it’s comfortable enough.” She looked up and stopped at the sight of Anna. 

Anna ran a hand through her damp hair, suddenly nervous under Elsa’s attention. “I know, I look a little different when I’m not rocking the half-frozen rat look.”

Elsa’s lips curled faintly. “It’s not a bad different. And you’re not the worst half-frozen specimen I’ve seen.” 

Anna chuckled. “Glad to hear it.” She collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the nest of blankets. Her body was utterly exhausted, but the physical exertion coupled with the muscle memory of getting warm after so much cold left her tingling pleasantly down to her bones. “Oh that’s nice.”

“There’s some hot chocolate, if you’d like.” Elsa indicated the steaming mug on the coffee table. 

Anna almost lunged for it. She took a careful sip, and burned her tongue anyway. “Oh, you’re an angel.” For being so reticent to let Anna stay, Elsa was incredibly hospitable. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Elsa said. She turned to go but hesitated. “He really put his cabin on Airbnb?”

“Mhmm,” Anna hummed the affirmative as she took another gulp, watching Elsa’s face. 

Elsa shook her head and murmured something that sounded like he should know better. “Perhaps he confused the dates.”

Again with the dates. It was starting to give her an inkling, like she’d wandered into an episode of the twilight zone. Her host was half way out of the room when Anna popped her head over the back of the couch. “Elsa?”

She turned back. “Yes?” 

“Thank you, seriously. If I hadn’t found your cabin and you hadn’t let me in… I don’t know what would have happened.”

A look Anna couldn’t interpret passed over Elsa’s face. She nodded once. “Goodnight Anna. Sleep well.”

“Night,” Anna said to Elsa’s retreating back.

*

Elsa barely slept, too anxious and distressed by the foreign presence in her living room. There shouldn’t be anyone on this mountain right now, let alone someone a handful of meters away in her cabin. The night of tossing and turning, of pacing, had only made it worse and she was completely unsurprised, yet bitterly disappointed the next morning when she came into the kitchen and found the window half obstructed by snow. There was nothing she could do at this point to mitigate the storm. 

They were trapped. 

Elsa had no idea if Anna could survive the cold that was coming.

One coffee later Anna stumbled in, tousled and groggy. Elsa set a fresh filter in the carafe. “Good morning.” 

“Is it?” Anna mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She’d draped herself in a blanket, only her face peaking out. The effect was quite endearing, a little childlike, and Elsa reminded herself sharply that Anna was still a stranger, and her situation could soon be perilous. 

“Well, you didn’t murder me in my sleep, so I think it could be worse.”

Anna cocked her head in confusion. 

“You shouted yesterday while you were trying to knock my door down that you were not ‘a murderer or anything’,” Elsa clarified, pouring a steaming kettle over the coffee grounds. 

Anna laughed sheepishly. “You heard that huh?” 

Elsa allowed herself a small smile. “I did.” 

“Well it’s true, I’m not.” She grinned, but it slipped off her face when she saw the window. “Oh my god, all that is from last night?” 

Elsa clenched her jaw as Anna moved closer to it, gaping out over the white barricade to the sky furiously hurling snow. “Still coming down too…”

“Yes,” Elsa said tightly, pouring muesli into two bowls. “We won’t be able to leave the cabin until the storm is over.”

Anna sighed and sat down heavily in her chair. “There goes my deposit.”

*

After breakfast they gravitated towards separate activities. Anna returned to the nest of blankets on the couch and checked her phone, which was dwindling at 5% battery. When she asked about charging it Elsa informed her there was no electricity; the cabin was only equipped with a propane tank to heat the water, and power the stove and the fridge. 

They were roughing it…sort of. 

Elsa checked the cabin meticulously, fixing blankets over the windows for insulation, cataloguing her supplies, and lighting candles on practically every available surface. 

It was quite cozy, and Anna was happy to doze intermittently while her body recovered from lingering jet lag and her frozen hike. 

Conversation between them was sparse, but Anna put it down to Elsa’s clear anxiety over the state of things and decided not to take it personally. 

—

Anna shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, wrapping Elsa’s thick wool cardigan across her chest, over the borrowed sweater. She stopped. 

“Weren’t there five chairs here yesterday?”

“Hmm?” Elsa murmured absently while layering peppered salami on a tray next to a neat row of jarlsburg slices. Anna noticed she made sure to put the pickled herring with dill in a separate bowl; it turned out Anna was not a fan. 

“The chairs,” Anna pointed to the empty side of the table. “Are we …missing some?” 

Elsa glanced up at the breakfast nook as she plated a handful of rye slices. She turned to check on the potatoes boiling on the stove, brushing her hands on her apron. “I’m using them elsewhere.”

Anna shrugged and went to set the table. They only needed two after all. 

By midday, Anna was getting a little antsy. 

“If the snow wasn’t so high— and there wasn’t a raging blizzard, obviously— we could be building snowmen right now,” Anna said wistfully, holding aside the blanket to gaze out at the narrow strip of murky white sky. Only a few inches remained between the drift and the top of the window.

“I know!” Anna spun around. “Do you have any paper and something to draw with?”

Elsa looked baffled by the request, but retrieved a notebook and a couple of pencils for her. Anna tore out some blank pages, waving Elsa to sit down across from her. “Okay, so since we can’t go outside and build real snowmen, we can at least make some this way.” Elsa glanced from the paper to Anna, looking unconvinced. Anna shrugged. “We have to pass the time somehow right?”

“Alright.” 

It took some doing at first; Elsa kept getting lost in the middle distance while she tapped her pencil anxiously against the table. With enough prodding from Anna though, she got into it and by the time dinner rolled around they had a small army of 2D snow people. 

Anna’s second favorite was a delightfully monstrous snow creature Elsa had sketched with precise strokes and deft shading. Her first was undeniably goofy but charming; squat and awkwardly shaped, with big eyes and a bucktoothed grin. That one they’d made together, with Elsa illustrating while Anna directed her and offered suggestions.  

They named him Olaf and Anna thought he was perfect.

After dinner they sat by the fire, sipping mulled wine Elsa heated for them on the stove. Anna was grateful for the added warmth and the pleasant buzz. 

“It’s just so crazy you guys have a blizzard in July,” Anna said suddenly, voicing the thought that had been a constant, giant question mark. “Every year! What even is that?”

Elsa set her glass aside and leaned back in the chair, cradling her arms across her stomach. “It’s just something that happens here. Though, if it has to happen I think July is probably the best time.”

“How could summer be the right time for snow?”

Elsa shifted and bit her lip. “We already have harsh winters here, a snowstorm like this on top of that would be even more dangerous. Better one briefly interrupts July and then everyone has the rest of summer to enjoy, don’t you think?”

Anna could admit that sort of made sense. Still, it wasn’t any less weird. 

—

On day three Anna was up to three sweaters, a blanket, and two pairs of sweat pants. Elsa was down to a fitted henley and jeans. She was beginning to wonder if Elsa would give her the last shirt off her back if it came to it, and that mental image got Anna flustered enough to feel like shedding layers instead of adding them. 

She amused herself by exploring the cabin— at least, the areas that weren’t private. Elsa had a few intriguing nicknacks, but what captured Anna’s attention were the two bookcases next to the fireplace. Books of all kinds lined the shelves; in English, Norwegian, and other languages she couldn’t place. There were novels, and textbooks, and books so old she didn’t dare touch them. 

Later, after Elsa had finished her bath, Anna persuaded her to read from one with a deep blue cover and silver leaf embossing. It was clear by the illustrations they were fairytales, though she couldn’t understand any of them. Anna quickly discovered she could listen to the smooth lilt of Elsa’s mother tongue forever, but before long her eyes had closed and the soft norwegian story trailed off with her consciousness. 

When she woke, Elsa was still curled up in the armchair, reading silently. Anna stretched and plodded over to the fireplace. She grabbed the fire iron and prodded at the remaining wood, making sure it was all lit. One of the logs cracked and split in a pop of sparks, and something beneath it caught her eye. Anna leaned closer; it was oddly smooth and cylindrical, and just there was an intricately carved pattern like—  

The chairs in the kitchen. 

So that’s where they went.

Clearly Elsa had some strange immunity to the cold, and she hadn’t bothered to stockpile more wood for herself even though she new the storm was coming.

She’d been burning her own furniture to keep Anna warm. 

Anna looked over at the woman, still completely absorbed by the book in her lap. Another small piece of the enigmatic puzzle that was Elsa fell into place; one that made Anna’s chest feel tight, and warm, and a little achy. 

Elsa glanced up then and noticed her staring. She blinked. “What?”

Anna cleared her throat and stood up, brushing her hands on the back of her pants. It felt important to let Elsa have this secret. She put on a reassuring smile. “Nothing. Can I make you some hot chocolate?”

Elsa smiled. “Yes, please.”

That night Elsa actually joined Anna on the couch, curling into the opposite corner while they started their second glass of mulled wine.

“So why do you come up here all by yourself? And during weather like this, no less?” 

Elsa’s lips twisted in a way that was difficult to read. “I’m not bothered by the cold,” she said, confirming the obvious. “And I’m not always good at being around other people.” 

“You’re an introvert.” 

“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Elsa swirled the wine in her glass. “After a while the world gets too loud and I need to be alone, completely. I come here to get away and try to let go of all the things that build up. All the reasons I can’t be…normal.”

Anna leaned her head back into the cushions, tilting her face towards Elsa. “Normal is overrated, and there’s nothing wrong with needing space. You gotta get those feelings out somehow.” 

“Sometimes I think I feel too much.”

“Better than too little.” 

Elsa hummed noncommittally. Anna could feel her starting to withdraw, and searched for some way to hold on to this unexpectedly open side of Elsa. “I think that was my ex’s problem.” 

Elsa looked up. “Oh?” 

“Yup,” she said, popping her lips on the ‘p’. “Too shallow. Took me a year to figure it out, and that was only as he was leaving me. It was a great reminder of why I prefer dating women,” she muttered into her glass. 

She inhaled and continued past the bitterness. “It’s one of the reasons I made this trip actually— well that and the vet clinic where I work shutting down. A little hard to start your own practice in a big city that already has plenty. I guess I was feeling a little adrift, and my aunt and uncle always talked about showing me the place where they grew up, so I thought: why not? Though technically they’re from Fevik, not Arendal, but Fevik doesn’t have much to offer in the way of rentals.”

“Why would anyone leave you?” 

Dammit. She was hoping Elsa wouldn’t focus too closely on her love troubles. Anna chuckled humorlessly. “When he broke up with me he said, and I quote: ‘Anna, you’re great, but you’re just too much’.” 

She shrugged and took a liberal sip. It didn’t matter that Hans had casually flung her deepest insecurity in her face right before he walked out the door forever. Even if he hadn’t been the best partner, and she hadn’t been happy towards the end. 

It was fine. 

“You are a lot.” 

Elsa quickly reached for her hand when she saw the look of hurt Anna couldn’t hide, surprising them both. For a moment it seemed like she might pull away, but she squeezed Anna’s hand instead. “I didn’t say you were too much. You are a lot of a good thing.” Elsa withdrew her hand and cupped it around her wine glass, staring into the burgundy liquid. “Some people don’t deserve that,” she finished quietly.

It must have been the alcohol sloshing in her stomach and the fumes muddying her brain that made Anna say, into a silence suddenly heavy with nebulous meaning: “Why do I feel like we’re not just talking about my ex anymore?”

Elsa sucked in a breath, as if she hadn’t realized her words would be so revealing. She set her glass down on the coffee table then tucked her feet under her, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her chest while she picked at the fringe. 

Anna knew her brain had fully turned off her filter when her mouth continued to work, seemingly of its own volition. “Don’t you deserve good things Elsa?”

Elsa curled herself tighter around the pillow, her eyes seeking answers in the embers of their small fire. The cabin groaned as the storm surged around them. “I’m not sure I do,” she whispered. 

Anna felt her heart break, just a little, at that soft admission. 

“I think that’s bullshit.”

Elsa looked at her, startled. “You barely know me.” 

Anna thought of chair legs and hot chocolate, of warm baths and borrowed clothes— of how she’d never experienced so much cold in her life, and she’d never felt so warm either. The way Elsa humored her, not because Anna was a burden or an obligation, but because she seemed to actually enjoy her company. “I think I know enough. And I’m sure anyone would be fantastically lucky to have you in their life. I know I am.” 

“Why?”

“Well, for starters you saved me from freezing to death out there.”

Elsa shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been in danger of that if I—” she clamped her lips shut. 

“If you what?”

“If I… had checked with Kristoff before he listed his cabin.”

Anna frowned. “That’s hardly your fault, Elsa. It was his mistake. Besides it’s not like you can control the weather.”

Elsa flinched. A thread pulled free from the pillow; she laid it carefully on the arm of the couch. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

“Hey.” Anna extended her leg across the couch and nudged the bottom of her foot against Elsa’s. “I’ve always wanted to experience getting snowed in. I’m glad it was with you.” 

Elsa’s smile was bittersweet. 

But still there, and Anna took that as a win.

*

They finished the rest of their wine in companionable silence as the fire burned down and the night grew deeper. Elsa got up to take the empty glasses to the kitchen. 

“We’re out of wood.” 

“What?” Elsa spun slowly to see Anna squatting by the fireplace. There was nothing left but ash. Elsa had been so distracted by Anna, the wine, and the conversation, that she’d forgotten to find more to salvage, and she’d left Anna without a source of heat. 

This was what happened when Elsa wasn’t careful, when she wasn’t in control of herself — 

“We should sleep together.”

Elsa nearly dropped the glasses.

“What?” 

“Oh my g— n-no! Not like that!” Anna flushed scarlet. “I meant like, for warmth.” She pulled her blanket around herself and looked everywhere but at Elsa. 

Elsa’s pulse slowed a fraction, and she tried to ignore the unexpected whisper of heat low in her stomach. It dissipated instantly when she registered what Anna was suggesting. “Anna, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not…I…I run quite cold, I’d probably make it worse—”

“Then I’ll just have to warm you up.” Anna stopped, her face burning again. “I meant like— oh whatever, you know what I mean.” She came and liberated the glasses from Elsa, setting them in the kitchen sink. Elsa protested weakly as Anna grabbed her hand and marched towards the bedroom, but it seemed she remained powerless to the force of nature that was Anna. 

“Wait.” She tugged on Anna’s hand. “Let me at least get the blankets.”

While Anna got ready, Elsa layered back all the bedding she’d stripped away that first night, grateful Anna hadn’t commented on the fact that she’d been sleeping with nothing but a fitted sheet.

When Anna returned she quickly flung herself under the covers; Elsa climbed in reluctantly on the other side, staying as close to the edge as possible. After a minute Anna pushed the covers down and looked over at her. 

“Okay, I’m not saying you have to spoon me, but it’s going to be a little difficult to share heat from way over there.” 

Elsa bit her lip and slid closer, heart pounding. She felt like Anna was asking her to hand over a live grenade. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to anyone. 

“Liiittle closer,” Anna coaxed. Elsa got as close as she dared, still leaving about 20 centimeters of space between them. She drew up the covers more securely, trying to insulate Anna against the cold, against her. As she tucked another blanket around them, her hand brushed Anna’s arm.

Anna shivered. “Geez you’re cold.” She latched onto her wrist before Elsa could react, pulling her closer. “You must be freezing,” she muttered, running her palm back and forth over Elsa’s forearm. 

Elsa was frozen; her whole body had gone rigid, while her heart had leaped into her throat. Anna had pulled her closer as if that would bring them heat, and now she was worried about Elsa being warm enough. The irony was excruciating. But Anna’s grip was strong, and Elsa felt a twisted flair of hope; that perhaps, just this once, she might be capable of more than cold. 

Anna shuffled back drowsily into her arms and Elsa held her breath, waiting for the worst. Minutes went by and nothing happened; Anna sank into the pillow with a sigh, still holding onto her. Tentatively, Elsa began to relax, as fragile hope turned to wonder. 

Anna hadn’t turned away.  

At every turn Anna had been reaching out, even when Elsa was reserved, or anxious, or closed off. Anna kept drawing her out, kept intriguing and surprising her. 

Anna had felt the cold, her cold, and she reached for Elsa anyway. 

In that moment it didn’t matter that Anna wasn’t aware of the whole truth— yet, because after the last few days with this woman, Elsa was confident that Anna wouldn’t have done a thing differently.   

The last thing Elsa knew was a soft snore, and the feel of Anna against her, and then she knew nothing else.

—

The first thing Elsa became aware of, was warmth. Heavy warmth, and a body in her arms, and breath on her neck. She inhaled slowly, soaking in each incredible, hazy sensation. It took a few moments for Elsa’s brain to remember who was in bed with her, and who it was nuzzling closer with a sweet sigh. Her pulse jump started, and for once, not out of fear. It seemed Anna was fine—more than, in fact— and Elsa was greedy for every last moment before the inevitable. 

After a few minutes the spell broke as Anna stirred groggily, pressing her face into the pillow with a murmur. One eye opened and landed on Elsa. It grew wider when Anna realized just how close they were and she quickly disentangled herself, cheeks flushed bright red. “Oops, sorry, I uh, I can be a little clingy when I share a bed.” 

Elsa struggled with the near physical ache begging her to pull Anna back to her arms, a sensation as terrifying as it was foreign, as baffling as it was undeniable. “It’s alright,” she said softly, her own face feeling a little hot. 

She watched Anna hop out of bed and go to the window to throw open the curtains, seemingly more out of habit than anything else. 

Anna gasped. “No. Way. Elsa! You have to see this—you’re not gonna believe it!” 

Elsa frowned and joined her apprehensively at the window. She peered out, and lost her breath.

Nearly all the snow was gone. 

Only a thin layer remained on the ground, melting under the bright sunlight. Large swathes of grass were showing, triumphant and sparkling in the fading frost. 

Anna bumped her hip against Elsa’s. “Isn’t this great?! We can go outside! We can stock up on supplies, I can wear my clothes again— not that I don’t like yours— Oh, we could have a picnic! Kristoff said there was a lake nearby, I wonder if Oaken has a boat…“

Anna continued spouting ideas as she left the room, and Elsa registered distantly that all Anna’s haphazard plans involved her. The sharp little anxiety at the thought of having to say goodbye died before it could take root. 

Elsa remained at the window, dazed and transfixed by the landscape that had been altered so drastically overnight. 

Or perhaps, had been four days in the making. 

Anna rushed back in, finally having realized Elsa wasn’t following her. She grabbed Elsa by the hand and led her outside, where they came to a stop in the grass just past the porch. They stood, absorbing the sunlight, the gentle breeze and the birdsong. Anna still had ahold of her hand, and Elsa was content to keep it there for as long as she’d let her. 

The sun blazed forth from behind a passing cloud, and Anna shaded her eyes with her free hand. “It seems like that freak storm really has passed huh?”

A smile pulled at Elsa’s lips and she looked up into the vivid blue sky. “So it would seem.”

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 006. dinner disaster

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ confessions | dinner disaster | realizations  ↪

mia’s note(s): 

can you find the easter eggs in here? 

i am sorry, i am not very fond of this chapter lmao i told you guys im bad at writing that isn’t angst man 

i hope you guys enjoy anyway, lemme know what you guys think!! and tell me if you find the easter eggs mwa mwa

You nod eagerly as you shut the menu in your grip, completely ignoring Reiji’s protests from beside you as the rest of the individuals seated around the table either watch in amusement or curiosity. “I believe there is always a three special course meal that changes every day according to the chef, we’d absolutely love that.”

At the sight of Reiji’s features scrunched up in horror, you inwardly squealed in victory. 

Years have flown by, you’re both practically strangers at this point. Yes, strangers. Just two strangers who know every shameful secret, every hidden freckle, and even every fatal flaw in each other. Who were you kidding anyway? Six years have gone by just like that, but you knew it yourself, deep down that you still strongly cared for the man that now stood before you, his eyes the only thing you could focus on, not even the soft chatter of the other guests or the soft instrumental melody produced by the restaurant’s speakers could capture your attention and disrupt your thoughts. Mesmerized, that is what you are. What even. 

It has been six years and to this day, he still completely steals your breath away. 

Not that it should surprise you or anything. Despite everything, how he had hurt you back when you were both 17 and in your second year in senior high school back in 2013, or the hurtful words that spilled from his mouth from the running emotions that day back at the sports complex when the truth revealed itself, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him or even be angry. You’ve thought of this a billion times since you left Hyōgo. You have imagined a billion scenarios, trying your best to prepare yourself because you knew. You knew that it was inevitable to stay hidden, to keep your secret hidden. A part of you always knew you were going to meet him again. Not that your reunion was delightful or anything. It was nowhere near such. No matter how many scenarios you created in your head, it had not been enough for you to prepare for any form of response. 

You hadn’t realized it at first when you had met him on that day because of the emotions running high through your veins, but now, standing in front of him, your eyes drank him up completely. Of course, you notice the differences from six years ago. It wasn’t as if he was going to stay how he had been back then, nor was it difficult to notice the changes from the boy you used to adore. Looking at him now, it was clear as day that he had grown up from the charming boy next door to a breathtaking man that you can’t seem to tear your gaze away. 

As your name rolls off of his tongue, you snap out of your trance, blinking a couple of times. Thankfully, you suppressed your emotions quick enough from allowing the warmth that wanted to creep across your cheeks. God, how embarrassing. Did he notice you were practically devouring him with your eyes? Hopefully not. 

However, despite his handsome features, you are suddenly reminded of the last conversation that the two of you shared and it was enough for you to push your mushy thoughts to the very back of your head. Ah, right. You remembered now, before being distracted by Atsumu’s ridiculously handsome face, you were going to give Asuma and Reiji a good smack. If only you had known of this setup, you would have never agreed. Jumping back to reality, you were about to take a step back, wanting to leave the premises, only to be held back by Reiji, gripping onto your arm to stop you. 

You were cut off from your protests, Reiji moving closer to whisper in your ear with the all too familiar tone he uses on you during arguments. Before he could even finish his sentence, you already knew that the excuses you have in mind were no use. There was no room for negotiations. “Stop being stubborn and sit down. Do this for your kids. It’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

Grumbling underneath your breath at how much of an ass he was, he only replies with a chuckle as he releases his grip on your arm, neither of you realizing the green-eyed monster’s gaze that followed the whole interaction. The two of your friends took their seats, greeting the rest of the party, while you’re left standing there before Atsumu. As you stood there face to face, you didn’t realize the two occupants around the table sharing hushed whispers amongst each other, berating each other for bringing other people along. Meeting his gaze once more, you give him a small nod, “Atsumu. Shall we then?” 

He nods, his voice cracking slightly because of his nerves, “Yeah.” 

However, as you turn to greet the rest of the party, you feel your shoulders grow tense at the realization of what your two friends did once again. They had occupied seats around the table, leaving the only available seats next to each other for you and Atsumu. If it’s one thing you hated, it was when your friends become the meddling monkeys that they are. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, you inwardly groan and occupy the seat next to Reiji, leaving the seat next to you for Atsumu. In spite of your irritation, you find yourself flashing a half-hearted smile at the three across from you. 

“Hi!” the one in the middle greets you happily with an enormous smile plastered across his face, “I’m Hinata, it’s nice to meet you.” He extends his arm across the table, holding out his hand for you to shake, which you gladly take. 

“Nice to meet you too,” you respond with a nod of your head as you release your grip from his hand, just in time to retrieve the menu that the waiter had passed throughout the group. Flipping it open, you avoid the glances from Bokuto and Osamu, who looked as if they were itching an interaction from you, but because of your irritation, you definitely didn’t want to talk to them just yet, they probably had helped your friends in setting this up. “So Hinata-san, I’m assuming you're Bokuto’s teammate?” you ask before tearing your gaze away from his to examine the menu in your hands. You don’t notice the frown that briefly appeared on Atsumu’s lips. 

“Oh, Hinata’s just fine!” he waves his hand with a laugh, “Yes, I’m Bokuto and Atsumu’s teammate. We actually wanted to bring our friend Sakusa here too, but he said he has an emergency at some hospital.” 

"Hmm…" you hum, letting your eyes scan the menu, thinking you might as well enjoy the food, "Oh, I hope everything is okay with your friend Sakusa and it’s nothing too serious, but now that we're here, might as well enjoy and run Rei's wallet dry. Right, Rei?"

You tilt your head a bit, glancing over at Reiji from the corner of your eye with a sly smirk forming on your lips. Ah, the man could only let out a nervous chuckle, knowing full well what you were planning as he recalls a similar scenario a few months back in the very same restaurant that put a dent to his savings because of the ridiculous price of the meals you had ordered that night. Not tearing your gaze away from your best friend, you call for the waiter's attention, who quickly responds by walking over and pulling out his tiny notepad to jot down your table's order. 

"Hello, I'm Daiki and I'll be your waiter for the night." He greets with a friendly smile, not realizing the awkward atmosphere among the group, "What will we be having?" 

Clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you give Reiji an innocent grin before turning your gaze over to the waiter to return his smile with your own, "Hello, Daiki. You see, my friends here aren't really sure what to order, but I told them not to worry since I've been here so many times, so I'll be ordering for everyone!" 

"Excellent, ma'am!" He nods his head, matching your enthusiasm.

You nod eagerly as you shut the menu in your grip, completely ignoring Reiji’s protests from beside you as the rest of the individuals seated around the table either watch in amusement or curiosity. “I believe there is always a three special course meal that changes every day according to the chef, we’d absolutely love that.” 

At the sight of Reiji’s features scrunched up in horror, you inwardly squealed in victory. 

It was going to be a long night.

Mayuzumi Asuma and Suwa Reiji were now considered dead.

To you, at least. And somehow, you knew that, despite them avoiding meeting your gaze alongside with the other three across from you who freely interacted with each other, they themselves knew what they were getting themselves into. They were digging their graves for this stunt they have pulled. 

You’d got to give Reiji credit, though. Despite pushing his buttons by ordering everyone the high priced three course meal, he wasn’t his usually squirmy and irritating self. You had at least expected sharing a heated argument with him after such a display, but instead of giving in, he continued to pursue his plan with the others. 

Oh, they think they were so slick, as if you hadn’t caught on with their little plan. Not a date, they say. It might as well be one, since they’re bluntly ignoring your attempts to converse with them. All was missing was some privacy. At first you hadn’t thought about it when you had tried to share a conversation with Hinata, it was only right for you to get to know someone; you were just being nice. However, before Hinata could respond to your question, Bokuto had dragged him into a conversation about volleyball. You brushed it aside, not thinking anything rude of it, as you knew Bokuto would often speak with anyone out of the blue. It was just how he is. 

You hadn’t even thought about it the second time around when this time; you tried conversing with Osamu, wanting to know about how his business is going so far. Except, the conversation between you and Osamu never happened due to the fact that Asuma had cut you off mid-sentence, engaging the man in a ridiculous conversation about healthy diets. Like, what the heck was that all about? Asuma and healthy diets just don’t sit well with you. Nevertheless, you brushed it aside, shifting your attention to the first course meal of the night that had been placed before you. 

They think they were so smart, trying to pull it off. Ah, but no. You had caught on with their little plan the third time around when you tried to join in Bokuto and Hinata’s conversation. You were instantly shot down by Reiji, shifting the conversation to another topic that only they could understand. 

They were dead men. All of them. 

Placing your chopsticks down, you turn your head towards Reiji’s direction with a false innocent smile curling upon your lips. “Reiji, dear.” 

Ah there it was, catching the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple in this throat with your gaze. "Yeah?"

"I hope you know—” 

Hinata cuts you off by standing up abruptly from his seat, waving frantically towards someone’s direction, “Ushijima-san!” 

You blink before turning your head to look at whoever Hinata was waving to, catching a glimpse of a tall, muscular man nodding towards Hinata’s direction in greeting, a woman trailing close behind him. Not wanting to be rude, you return to your previous position to face Hinata that was seated across from you, “Was that the Ushijima Wakatoshi?” 

Hinata nods as he sits back down, a huge smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m sure you know about him.” 

“I suppose,” you lift your shoulders up in a shrug as you pick up your chopsticks once more, completely forgetting to reprimand Reiji’s actions much to his relief, “I was volleyball manager back then in high school, so I would know a few things, including some players.” 

“Where did you go to school?” Hinata asks, tilting his head a bit as he looks at you curiously. You wonder, briefly, had Atsumu not mentioned you at all since the incident at the sports complex? Weird. 

As you were about to reply, the man seated on your left answers for you. “She went to the same school as me, Shouyou-kun. She was our manager.” 

Hinata stares at you for a second, blinking a couple of times before realization hits him, his eyes widening, “I remember you now! You were that pretty manager!” 

The men around the table chokes and sputters their food, causing you to scrunch up your nose in disgust. Atsumu is first to respond after clearing his throat, “What? I mean, yeah. She was our pretty manager.”  

“I remember her because it was the first time I saw Tsukishima look stupid over a girl,” Hinata chuckles, shaking his head. “But, how come I only saw you once? Were you a third year at the time?” 

Suddenly, the tension was back in the air. You catch from the corner of your eye, Atsumu growing tense from Hinata’s question, and you had to fight the urge to show your own emotions. Everyone else was silent, probably waiting for you or Atsumu to answer. “Ah, I left high school towards the end of our second year, and moved to Kanagawa. I had my hands full at the time, so I didn’t return to high school.” 

“But wh—” Hinata gets cut off by his own yelp, making you raise a brow in confusion. He turns his head towards Osamu’s direction, wincing slightly, “Osamu-san!” 

Osamu lets out a laugh, not looking anywhere near apologetic. “Ah, sorry buddy. I was reaching over Bokuto but you were in the way.” 

An awkward atmosphere engulfs around the table once more. This dinner was certainly not going according to Osamu and Reiji’s plan. Opting to avoid the awkward glances from the other individuals, you turn your attention over to focus on your food while Osamu and Reiji were sending glares towards each other once they realized your attention elsewhere. The two had talked with Atsumu earlier, devising a plan for the two of you to talk things through. Originally, Osamu suggested that the dinner should be just you and Atsumu, but Reiji declined such an idea because of two reasons. First, you would completely decline yourself to go to a dinner and leave Atsuhiro in the hospital despite your mother being present, Reiji knew you too well that the idea of dinner at a fancy restaurant without your sons was a big no. That is, unless a friend of yours were to force you by dragging you to the restaurant. And second, if you were to be left with Atsumu alone, Reiji fears that you would leave almost immediately. 

And he was right for both. If he hadn’t dragged you here himself, you wouldn’t have bothered to go. And if he hadn’t stopped you earlier, you would have ran out the moment you saw Atsumu. However, they hadn’t expected this. Reiji hadn’t expected Osamu to bring two other people, while Osamu hadn’t expected that Reiji was going to bring someone else along. Yes, it was a disaster. 

Reiji had opted to bring Asuma along, because he knew you were going to be suspicious if it were just the two of you going for dinner. You would have accused him of coddling you like a child, it was something he would do now and then when he wanted you to release all the emotions you had kept bottled up. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate him for it, he just knows that if he did such a thing during such an emotional time, you would push him away when Reiji wanted to speed things along. As much as Reiji disliked the father of his favorite twins, he wasn’t going to deprive the little boys any longer of the chance of finally getting to know their father. If he was going to force everything on you, he would do it. He, too, has grown tired of your decisions of run away. 

Osamu on the other hand, only decided to accompany his brother himself but as he and his brother were leaving the apartment, the other two barged out of Bokuto’s room claiming to be starving from the lack of food the past couple of hours because of some intense gaming session on the PlayStation 4 that Bokuto brought along with. Not being quick on their feet, the twins had blurted out they were going out to eat. They unfortunately could not decline the two balls of sunshine. 

Clearing his throat, hoping to shift the tension in the air. “Anyway,” Osamu starts before tearing his glaring gaze away from Reiji over to where Ushijima was seated across the room, “Who is that girl Ushijima is with?” 

“She kinda looks familiar,” Bokuto hums, placing his chopsticks down after finishing his first course meal, shifting his gaze over to Ushijima’s table. 

“That’s the heiress of the Akita Empire,” Asuma answers, “Pretty woman, she is. I didn’t know she was dating anyone.” 

Hinata lets out a gasp of excitement, his eyes going wide. “I wonder if Ushijima-san is really dating her!” 

“Maybe you can ask him at the party…” Bokuto suggests while the rest of his words are drowned out by you, growing bored with the night as you wonder when you can possibly leave. 

Despite drowning out the conversation around the table and focusing on the food, Atsumu pulls you in with his voice from the side, “Hey, I’m sorry about this. I told Osamu and Reiji it was a bad idea from the start.” 

Ah, so it was those two who had planned the whole thing out. You let out a sigh, turning your head to face him to answer, your voice low to keep the others out of the conversation, “There’s nothing that we can do now.” 

“Would you have preferred that it was just the two of us?” he asks, hope laced in his voice. 

Lightly nibbling on your bottom lip, you tear your gaze away from him. Did you? You actually wanted to talk to Atsumu after having the talk with your sons. You were going to express your disappointment towards Reiji and his plan full of flaws. Had they planned this for the two of you to talk? If so, this was stupid to begin with. Something so serious between the two of you and Atsumu should be discussed within private walls, and this was nowhere near private. So maybe, yes. Perhaps, if the two were you alone, then it would have been better. “I guess,” you finally admit, “Maybe the two of us can talk things through properly when this is over. I think it’s time. For now, I hope you can accept my apologies.” 

“And I hope you accept m—” 

Hinata’s loud voice booms excitedly, “Oh remember that party!” 

The two of you snap your attention over to Hinata, the disappointment clear in your features for the disruption. What were they talking about? However, curiosity gets the best of you and you entertain him anyway. “What party?” 

“The Christmas party last year!” Hinata announces with a chuckle, “At first, I was thinking why Reiji-san and Asuma-san here look so familiar then I remember I attended the party with Bo-kun and the others!” As if on cue, the moment those words left Hinata’s mouth, Atsumu and Bokuto visually stiffened, causing you to grow more curious. 

“Ah, that party.” you let out a laugh, nudging Reiji with your elbow, “He’s talking about your all-time favorite party.” 

A scowl makes its way to Reiji’s features, “Please, do not remind me of that horrendous party. I had to move rooms just because of that, and I replaced the mattress too.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” you drawled, laughing along with Asuma as you remember Reiji going crazy the next day after the party. “Just because your guests did the dirty on your bed—” Reiji cuts you off by pinching your side, which causes you to let out a yelp in both pain and surprise.

Osamu interjects with a grin, “Actually, I have a feeling that Sakusa would have died hearing such information. But I would be pissed off too, Reiji. That’s nasty. I would have moved out the whole place entirely.” 

“Right?” Reiji exclaims by throwing his hands in the air, “I couldn’t step inside the room without wanting to poke my eyes out.” 

“That’s why we no longer let Atsumu drink too much because he’ll probably do that again,” Hinata adds, laughing along. 

Once again, silence. 

“Wait, what?” Reiji asks, the first to break the silence. “That was you?” 

Bokuto smacks Hinata’s head before looking away awkwardly. Hinata, on the other hand, takes a minute to realize his mistake before flickering his gaze back and forth from Atsumu over to you, waiting for his mistake to backfire in his face. The rest of the individuals around the table turn their attention over to Atsumu, waiting for his response. 

You were the first to defend him, letting out a laugh. “Okay, enough of this. Let’s leave the past in the past. Let’s not make things awkward, it’s not like Atsumu and I are dating or anything,” 

“Tsumtsum!” a squeal echoes throughout the restaurant and all you could think now was “What now?” 

[haifengg]

Genre/TW: mentioning of alcohol consumption, indication of molesting

Pairing: Idol!TaeyongxFem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Neither one of you was usually into turbulent or spontaneous dates. The common ground of wanting to spend your days off or maybe just nights off with some quality chill activities was what originally drew you towards each other. You appreciated Taeyong a lot for his ability to manage a loud Kindergarten-like group of people and guiding them through everything safe and sound, so you knew very well how mad his job could be. How much energy it drained from him and you were more than happy to spend your time with him recharging.

That being said, neither one of you was a huge troublemaker either. You liked having a great time wherever you went but you always made sure to stay out of trouble. The fact that Taeyong was who he was made it difficult enough to schedule date nights and actually go somewhere outside your apartment. Getting into trouble or even worse - attracting bad press was unspeakable. So you did your best to stay out of anything shady.

With all of that in mind, there still were nights like this one from time to time. Nights when friends of either one of you ask you to go out with them. Checking out some clubs or bars, enjoying alcohol and music and dance. Which is what Taeyong was truly amazing at. Even if it was just jumping in a crowded club - this aura around him would never fade.

So tonight was one of these nights. You were all dressed up, sitting in the corner of this exclusive club one of Taeyong’s producer friends invited you into because he knew what a pain dating a celebrity/non-celebrity was. At this location everyone was either well-known or with someone well-known. Everyone appreciated the selection of clientele.

A few hours had already passed and a few drinks already found there way into your system. You were dancing with Taeyong a lot, having his hands subtly roaming over your body when things got so intense on the dance floor that no one was paying attention anyways. At first you laughed it off and told to take it down a notch because even tho the club was upper class and selected customer only, there was no guarantee no one would record you, or leak anything to some sort of social media news account. But you quickly noticed that all your warnings didn’t really reach your boyfriend. He was way too caught up into the surroundings. Loud music, bass banging, crowds of raving people. The lights, the time of the night and the alcohol. It all added up to his urge of letting off steam, wiping work out of his head just for a few hours.

By the sixth song and after countless attempts from his side you finally gave in and turned around. Since you stood still in a pit of jumping people a few of them bumped into you but you paid them no mind. Instead you pulled your boyfriend in closely, bringing you lips close to his ear and whispering shouting into his ear:

“How about we just go somewhere more private?”

You pull away and observed amusedly how the expression on his face changed within seconds, as soon as he noticed that he didn’t mishear.

Taeyong nodded, strongly agreeing and shaking his head towards the door shielding the hallway and the restrooms from the main dance floor.

You softly patted twice with your flat hand on his chest before turning around and leaving towards the restrooms. He would follow in a few moments, maybe after the song finished. Just waited long enough for no one to really catch any suspicions.

The door closed behind you and suddenly you noticed how obnoxiously loud the dance floor was. There weren’t a lot of people in the hallway since most of the guests rather enjoyed what they came here for instead of hanging around in some meadow. So you shook your head adjusting to the absence of noise and made your way across the hallway, past some people heading to the restrooms. One mustn’t forget what you came here for and what you were expecting.

But when you were walking past a group of maybe 3 or 4 guys one of them dropped his drink, the glass bursting on the floor and the raining alcohol splattering across the wall and floor. You quickly turn around thinking that you might have bumped into him causing the small accident and apologised even before you could overlook the entire situation.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ You say crouching down and starting to pick up the shards of glass but stop immediately as you noticed that no one else was making a move to help you. Instead the men looked at you interestedly just as one of them seemed to recognise you.

“Hey, aren’t you Taeyong’s girlfriend?” He smirked."

“Taeyong?” One of this guy’s friends asked and another chimed in.

“NCT Taeyong. This SM boygroup. Yeah, I think it’s her."

“Oh look at her, she’s really pretty up close. I can see why he’s into her."

By the time he said that you had already gotten up and regained full posture just to notice that even fully standing up these guys were much more intimidating than you originally realised. “Listen, I am really sorry I spilled your drink and I will get you another one later but for now I really have to go."

Offering him to buy another drink was insanely stupid in this situation but like most of the time your manners got the better of you. Of Course you noticed how they looked at you. And of course you were aware of what dress you wore and how it make you look. “Where you gotta go?” One of them asked looking past you and smiling. “To the restroom? We’d be more than happy to accompany you. Just to make sure, you know, you don’t forget about that drink you owe my friend here."

“If she owns him a drink, I would be more than happy to pay for it but I honestly doubt that she made him drop it in the first place.” Someone said and your head spun around just to see your boyfriend being the owner of those words.

“See, that’s him.” Someone of them said, bopping his ellbow into his friend’s rips. “I honestly don’t see why so many women are into him. You’re actually real skinny up close. Your girlfriend here really deserves better and she will know once we show her what she’s missing out on."

As soon as the sound of these words hit his ears Taeyong shoved himself between you and these awful men to keep them from looking at you any longer. He reached into his pocket pulling out some random small bill that would surely be enough to cover another drink and shoved it into the drink-less guys chest pocket.

“I would really like you to leave now. I hope this will do. Now if you excuse us."

He grabbed your wrist more firmly than you would have expect him to and was about to march out of the club but one last comment from the group of strangers made him freeze on the spot.

“That’s so like you!” They laughed. “Throwing money at problems so that they go away. What an unfair world we live in. Being born handsome really is a guarantee for being successful regardless to how talentless one is."

You had never in your life seen Taeyong opting for violence and you honestly thought you never would. But within the blink on an eye he appeared in front of whoever said that and was about to place his fist frontally on to his opponents nose bridge but luckily for Taeyong the other one was quick enough to dodge his swing.

Now it was your turn to grab your boyfriend’s arm and whisper:

“Don’t lose your temper over someone like him. Your career isn’t worth it."

You pulled him away before anyone could say anything else and when you reached the door to the foyer you could hear them shouting something about how he weak he was having to be saved by his girlfriend and that all he could do was look good for money. Taeyong bit his tongue to not shout anything offensive back at them.

You on the other hand made your way cool heatedly towards the coatroom getting your jackets. In the nicest and most professional way possible you asked the lady at the counter if you may report this group of gentleman in the hallway since the not only cat-called you and threatened you but also insulted your boyfriend and provoked a fight.

Via the entire time of the two of you getting through the process of explaining everything to the security Taeyong stood by your side, still holding the jackets in one hand and your hand in the other.

Eventually you were waiting outside the club trying to flag a cab which would take you home.

“Thank you.” He suddenly said, not looking at you.

“What for?”

“For keeping me from folding this dude right there."

“Don’t thank me. I would have loved to see that. But as I said: Your career isn’t worth some fist fight in a club."

“You are tho.” Taeyong now looked at you and you could see how what those men said earlier really got to him.

Taglist

@kpopsnowball

@soleilsuhh

@jeonghanmoon

@himitsu-luna

@pocky-otp

Masterlist

[jeogiyall]

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆 ఌ ℎ.𝑠𝑤

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿; 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅! 𝖺𝗎

❥𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗒/𝗇 𝗑 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗈 (𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗇)

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟝.𝟟𝟛𝑘

❥𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 ᴀʀɪ! 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗏𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁, 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗈

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

The bell rings to signal the end of your Spanish class. You sling your bag over your shoulder and stand up, grabbing your textbook and preparing to leave; but your teacher’s voice stops you before you have the chance to go.

“Y/N, are you free to chat for a few minutes?” Your steps come to a sudden halt, the rest of your classmates brushing past you to get out of the room.

You gulp and hug your textbook closer to your chest, your teacher’s summons sparking a pool of nerves as you wonder what on earth she needs to talk to you about.

“Sure, what do you need?” You reply. You don’t have another class until the end of the day anyways, so you don’t have to rush off just yet.

You catch your best friend’s eye and can only offer a shrug when she raises one eyebrow at you, and then she’s trailing out of the classroom along with everyone else, leaving you to hesitantly take a seat in front of your Spanish teacher’s desk.

You fiddle with the strap of your bookbag and try to shake off the feeling that you’ve done something wrong.

“Y/N,” She begins softly, “I’m sure you know that you’re one of our Spanish program’s brightest students. Your comprehension skills are sharp and your pronunciation is muy excelente. You’re also a fantastic classmate to your friends when they need your help.”

You don’t know what to make of the proud smile on her face; but it makes you smile a little, too. She continues, “I’ve been very impressed by your work recently, and I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

You nod slowly. So you weren’t in trouble after all- even though you couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would make Ms. Carmen upset with you, it was good to know she wasn’t giving you a lecture.

“Of course, how can I help you?”

Ms. Carmen folds her hands on the desk in front of her and says, “I have a student I want you to tutor for me.”

Your grip on your bag tightens instantly.

“You want me to tutor someone?” Your voice wavers with uncertainty, “I’m not sure I’d be a very good tutor. I, um, I have a lot of classes I’m taking other than this one, and I don’t really know if I have enough time...” You stop yourself from getting too far in your nervous rambling and meet your teacher’s disappointed gaze.

“That’s alright, Y/N. I knew it was a lot to ask of you. I understand you’re a busy student, so don’t trouble yourself; I’ll find another tutor.” She sighs, and the sound makes your heart sag, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

You contemplate the offer for a few more moments, rolling it around in your mind. On the one hand, you are pretty busy; you actually don’t have that many classes this semester, but the workload is tough enough to make up for it.

Yet on the other hand, you really love Spanish, and you like helping people out wherever you can. You may not be overly confident in your abilities as a tutor; but if Ms. Carmen needs you to help another student in your class, then you feel strongly obligated to step up and be the one to do it. Besides, it can’t be too horrible- you figure the most you’ll have to do will probably be to show someone how to count to twenty.

You nod again and square your shoulders, looking your teacher in the eyes. “Actually, I can tutor them. It won’t be a problem.” You assure her.

Her smile returns, and with it comes a small amount of confidence that you’ll be able to prove yourself wrong, that you’ll turn out to be a great tutor. Her words are warm as she responds, “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N. I knew I could count on you.”

You mirror her grin, and with a wave of her hand, she gestures towards the door and tells you you’re free to go. You walk out of the classroom and towards the courtyard with every intention of eating your lunch, though you’ll most likely end up asking yourself who possibly needs you to tutor them in Spanish so badly... maybe it’s just an underclassmen who could use the extra help.

Or maybe, you think as you open up your textbook on the lunch table, you should just stop stressing yourself out about this so much and eat your food before the bell rings again.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

You smooth out your skirt and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, glancing at the time on your phone. 3:30 pm- the student you’re supposed to tutor should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago. You mindlessly scroll through social media to dispel your nerves, telling yourself to stop being worried over something so small. You’re sure there’s a perfectly good reason they’re late.

Your eyes scan the almost full library for a place to sit once your student finally gets here, hoping you won’t have to sit in one of the back rooms that are notorious for being a hookup spot. The mere thought of working on one of those tables is enough to gross you out.

You’ve been waiting at the front of your school’s library for the last fifteen minutes; the two assistants at the checkout desk have been sending you curious looks and whispering subtly, and you’re sure they’re talking about you. They most likely think you’re being stood up on a study date- which, to be honest, it kind of feels as if you are being stood up. You decide you’ll give it just five more minutes before calling it quits and going home.

You keep scrolling through your phone until you hear someone ask the assistants about a Spanish tutor. They point in your direction and the guy turns around, your lungs shutting down the moment your eyes land on him.

You realize he isn’t just any old freshman or sophomore kid. Instead, you’ve been assigned to tutor Han Seungwoo- the high school’s golden boy.

Seungwoo recognizes you instantly, knowing you as the smart girl who always aces every Spanish test. He knows Ms. Carmen wouldn’t pair him up with just anyone, so he should have suspected he’d be put with one of the smartest people in his class.

What he didn’t know, however, was how cute you looked when your head wasn’t buried in your book; his heart jumps at the way you’re bouncing on your toes, your hair tucked behind your ear and your eyes going wide once you recognize who he is.

He wonders how he could’ve ever missed the sweetness in your smile before.

You clutch your phone tightly to keep yourself together when Seungwoo makes his way over to you, hoping your breathing will go back to normal before he hears you hyperventilate.

He’s so much more handsome in person than how your boy-crazy best friend describes him. She makes Seungwoo seem untouchable and detached, always harping on his sharp jawline and his cold charms. But up close, he’s not like that at all; you find that his eyes hold a soft warmth in them, and the brown hair that flops over his forehead is practically begging you to run your fingers through it. He all but towers over you in his high top sneakers and red sweater, and he couldn’t look any more approachable if he tried. You quickly conclude that your best friend’s got it all wrong.

You also conclude that if you don’t quit staring at him like a stalker, then Seungwoo is going to run in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly can.

You snap yourself out of it and offer a shy smile, slipping your phone into your pocket. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Are you the one Ms. Carmen asked me to tutor?” You mentally cheer at how stable your voice is, even if it’s a little soft.

Seungwoo smiles brightly back at you, and you could swear he’s intentionally trying to make you melt into a puddle on the floor. “Hi Y/N! I’m Seungwoo,” He introduces himself as if he isn’t the heartthrob of the century, and you bite your lip to keep from confessing that you already know him. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to talk to Coach about missing practice or else he wouldn’t let me go.”

That’s right- you’d forgotten he was on the football team, too. Your tiny little crush shrivels up and dies in your heart, your brain reminding you that you’re just tutoring the school’s star defense player, and that it will never be more than that. For one thing, it would be the most cliché circumstance to ever happen in your life; not to mention that it’s also the most unrealistic thing to hope for. You squash down your stupid schoolgirl feelings and nod your head at Seungwoo.

“Of course, don’t feel bad,” You tell him, “I just wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Now that you’re here, where do you wanna sit?”

You’ve got a suspicion that you might just end up in the back room, not seeing an empty table anywhere; thankfully, Seungwoo spots a group getting up to leave and motions for you to follow that way. You walk past the group and sit down slowly, letting your bag drop onto the table and pulling out your textbook.

He takes one look at it and groans, rubbing a hand over his temple. “I can’t believe I forgot my textbook. I didn’t mean to be so scatterbrained...” The tips of his ears are turning slightly pink, and the sight is so endearing that you can’t even pretend to be disappointed.

“It’s fine, you can just use mine today.” You console, sliding it over to him. He sheepishly opens it and grabs his notebook from his bag.

“So what do you want to do first?” You ask. Your nerves are starting to get to you, and you twirl your pencil around in your fingers. Seungwoo sees your fidgeting and raises an eyebrow.

“It seems like you’re nervous,” He observes, and your breath catches when he so casually exposes you. “Maybe we should get to know each other a little bit? After all, I think we’re gonna be working together for at least the next month, if not more. I don’t want to be strangers.”

Your heart flutters against your will at his suggestion. “I’m not nervous,” You respond defensively, “I’ve just never tutored anyone before. I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

Seungwoo shuts the textbook and rests his elbows on the table, giving you all of his attention. “Based on how great you are in class, I’m sure you’ll be a huge help. Don’t sweat it.” He tells you, causing a warm blush to rise on your cheeks.

“How about we play twenty questions?” He asks without warning, “I’ll start if you don’t want to go first. Deal?” You nod, putting the pencil down.

He clears his throat. “Let’s start out easy. Favorite color?”

You blurt out red without any thought. You don’t actually have a favorite, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how handsome Seungwoo looks sitting across from you in that red sweater; and from the slight smirk that pulls at his lips, you think he’s caught onto what’s happening in your head. How embarrassing.

“Look at that, we’ve got the same favorite color. Never would’ve pinned you for a red girl.” He teases, briefly taking in your fuzzy light blue shirt. You shake your head to hide how easily flustered he makes you.

“Seungwoo, we should really get to studying. Don’t you have a lesson you want to go over today?” You say with a small sigh. As much as you want to get to know him, to learn what makes him smile or what he wants to do with his life, you’re acutely aware of how urgent Ms. Carmen was about getting you to tutor him. The last thing you want is to let her down; and it looks like there’s not much time to waste.

Seungwoo just shrugs his shoulders and leans closer to you over the table, sending butterflies swooping in your tummy. You almost wish he wasn’t this handsome- maybe then you wouldn’t be such a nervous wreck. “I didn’t have anything specific in mind,” He admits reluctantly, “all I know is that I’m failing right now and if I don’t pull my grade up, I won’t get to play for the rest of this season. I can’t let the boys down, y’know?”

You can’t help but admire the obvious loyalty Seungwoo has towards his team. You didn’t expect someone like him to so openly wear his heart on his sleeve, and it’s already showing signs of causing a problem. You don’t think your poor heart can handle a month of his easy smile or his confident manner.

His brown eyes are on yours, and you have the sudden urge to hold his hand and tell him he’ll do just fine, that you’ll do whatever it takes to get him back in the game. You push the thought away before it gets stuck in your head and instead reach for the textbook again.

“Then let’s get to it.” You say, the words soft yet determined. If you didn’t have a reason to help him out before, then at least now you’ve got a goal to work towards. You don’t want him to get kicked off the team.

He doesn’t let up his curious gaze, and it feels like he can see past your face and straight inside of you, as if he can read your mind. Your blush refuses to go away and you avert your stare to the book on the table, opening it up to the first chapter to start reviewing what he knows so far.

On the other side of the table, Seungwoo thinks to himself that this might end up being the longest month of his life.

How on earth is he supposed to focus on a language he doesn’t understand when you’re sitting there so cutely right in front of him, your cheeks glowing softly and your hair falling into your eyes? How is he going to remember anything of importance with your small hands tracing over the words on the page, skimming the lines like it’s a map to your heart?

And how is he ever going to remember anything that isn’t the way your lips pull into a polite smile when you catch him looking at you?

As you try to get Seungwoo to remember some simple adjectives, the only one he can recall is hermosa; but he thinks that maybe telling you that on your first meeting together wouldn’t quite be appropriate- and he thinks that maybe Spanish just got a whole lot harder.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

“No, Seungwoo, gato is the word for cat. We’re talking about school supplies, not animals.” You correct gently.

The last week or so of tutoring Han Seungwoo has been anything but a breeze. While he’s trying his best to learn from you, you didn’t realize how far behind he’s been in class. It took you three sessions just to get through basics like counting and introductions, and you haven’t even bothered to work on his pronunciation yet; you’ve got bigger things for him to master first.

While you’d made some significant progress- he could now count into the hundreds and successfully tell people his name, age, and nationality- you’ve still got a long way to go.

You’ve been meeting up in the library after school every day so far, and he’d taken extra care to make sure he didn’t make you wait as long as he did on the first day. You normally spend an hour minimum in the quieter section of the library, away from the chatter of students using the computers, and you’ve had to check out another Spanish textbook when Seungwoo discovered he’d lost his for real.

Today, one week into tutoring, you’d been working with him on school supplies and classroom phrases.

“So...” Seungwoo trails off, a look of confusion on his face that shouldn’t be so heartachingly handsome, “the word for staple is grapa? Why does it sound so much like the word for cat? That’s not fair.” He fails to hold back a pout, making you laugh.

“Sorry Seungwoo, I don’t make the rules.” You offer an excuse. His shoulders slump and he starts drawing aimless circles on his paper, which you’ve written over in red ink to try and help him get the hang of nouns.

“You at least know them,” He says in a dull tone, “but what do I know? Football and chemistry, that’s it. I can pass chemistry, but I’m failing Spanish.” You feel that odd urge to hold his hand again, but like the last few times it’s happened, you shove it out of your brain as quickly as it appeared.

You instead ruffle his hair (which is exactly as soft as you’d imagined it was) and give him your own sulky pout, “Hey, that’s nothing to complain about. Chemistry is more foreign to me than Spanish, I don’t even know how I passed.” You admit honestly.

At the sight of your frown, Seungwoo thinks his heart has stopped working, because it’s beating too fast for him to function. He wants nothing more than to kiss that little pout off of you and bring back your sweet grin; and while that idea should be alarming, he finds that he has no issues with it at all. The only issue is that he has no idea how you’d respond to something so sudden and unwarranted.

Your tutoring sessions have been driving Seungwoo absolutely nuts over the last few days. He has no clue how he’s never noticed you before now, because your innocent eyes and small smiles have been living in his mind rent-free since the day you met him in the library. He’d normally be concerned about how quickly he’s become infatuated with you, but you make it easy with your cute expressions and your fuzzy oversized sweaters; anyone who knows him well would be able to tell that he’s got it bad.

Lucky for him, you’ve just been chalking up his inability to memorize the material to his lack of interest in Spanish.

“Let’s try again,” You suggest quietly, rounding the table to stand over him. You turn the page of the textbook to the next worksheet, free of red pen marks, and point at the first blank row. “Write out the words in English first from the pictures, then again in Spanish.”

Seungwoo fights back the desire to lace your hands with his much larger ones, wanting so badly to feel how they’d fit together.

An idea pops into your head as you think of ways to motivate him. “If you get them right, I’ll give you a prize!” You chirp, hoping to inspire him enough for him to really apply himself. He perks up visibly and pokes your side, wanting to know what the prize is, but you shake your head and swat his arm away. “You’ll just have to find out when I check your work.” You taunt.

It does the trick, too- when he finally fills in the last blank and hands you the worksheet, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that every single answer is correct.

“Did I do it?” He asks excitedly, reminding you of a puppy. You nod and draw a smiley face on the sheet, giving it back to him without writing all over it. You’re shocked at how easy it was to get him to try, and you hadn’t actually planned on him getting it right first try.

He shuts the book and stuffs his papers and pencil into his bag, quickly sliding out of his chair to stand next to you. Now he’s really acting like a puppy, practically bounding over to you and playfully nudging you with his elbow.

“Y/N, what’s the prize?” He asks again. You collect your own things and stand up, not even bothering to elbow him back.

You fiddle with the straps and look down at your shoes as you mumble, “I, um, I was gonna take us to the coffee shop a few blocks away to finish up. I figured we could use a change of scenery.” Your voice is unsteady, much like your heart rate; but who can blame you when Seungwoo is looming over you with an obvious twinkle in his eye? Your tummy does backflips from the way he’s so blatantly staring- you’re unused to all the attention.

He uses one finger beneath your chin to tilt your head up, his fond expression making you wonder if he’s even real or if you’re just hallucinating.

“That’s perfect, Y/N, I’d really like that.” He says. Your eyes linger on his lips; and you let yourself have one selfish thought, thinking of how it might feel to go on your tiptoes and press your own against them, imagining for only a moment how his hand would cradle your face-

“Are we going to go, or did you wanna stare some more?” He questions with a cocky smirk, secretly enjoying the curious way you’re looking at him. You turn beet red and stutter awkwardly, wishing you had something to hide yourself behind.

“I wasn’t staring, I was just... zoning out.” You attempt to lie, but it’s no use. You got caught red-handed and you both know it. Once you realize you won’t be getting your dignity back any time soon, you spin on your heel and walk out of the library, not needing to look behind you to know he’s following closely.

His hand brushes yours as you exit the school and begin the short walk to the coffee shop downtown, sending sweet chills all the way up your arm. “Whatever you say, stalker.” He mutters teasingly. You lightly shove his side, making him laugh.

“I am so not a stalker!” You defend dramatically. He doesn’t respond, just glances at you with a smile so sweet that it reaches his eyes and instantly melts your heart, and you have to tell yourself to snap out of it before you dwell on his antics for too long.

“Keep telling yourself that.” He eventually responds.

You give him a pouty side-eye and cross your arms like a little kid, “I’m not a stalker.”

Seungwoo swears that he’s never wanted to kiss anyone so badly before in his life.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

At the end of your third week tutoring Seungwoo, you’ve completely given up on trying to ignore the way he makes your heart flutter; now, all you can do is try to keep yourself from becoming a blushing mess in his presence for the two hours a day you’re both together.

You’d made the mutual decision to move your sessions out of the library and into the coffee shop, a cute little place named Mayday Café. While it was a great place to study, with more room for you to spread out and work, it also had it’s drawbacks (which came directly in the form of sweet cream and caffeine).

Though you aren’t sure ‘drawbacks’ is the right word; maybe the word you’re looking for is ‘temptations’.

It certainly isn’t distractions. You had your own personal, living-and-breathing distraction already right there in front of you; one named Han Seungwoo.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he’s flirting with you a lot these days. He’s been quick to buy you your magic bean juice every time he sees you glance at the counter, never letting you pay for it no matter how many times you protest, and he’s even started causally calling you nicknames like princess and cutie.

He makes you nervous and excited at the same time, always causing your cheeks to turn pink and your pulse to race. You aren’t sure if he knows what he’s doing- he carries such an easygoing manner about him that you can’t really tell what he’s thinking- but you know for a fact that it’s having an effect on you, even if it isn’t intentional.

You also think that must have some idea of what he’s doing to you, because no one can be that touchy and still be oblivious.

Currently, it was 4:50 on a Friday afternoon. Your drink was long gone, your cup left on the edge of the table as you and Seungwoo sat side by side, heads bent down to read over a page in your Spanish textbooks during the last ten minutes of today’s tutoring session.

One hand gripped his pen tightly while the other was tangled in his hair, a habit of his you’d discovered he did whenever he was deeply involved in something. You peeked subtly at him while pretending to read your own book, although in reality you were just trying to memorize the endearing scrunch of his nose and the way he mouthed the words silently to himself.

Five more minutes went by until he looked up from the vocabulary words, removing the hand in his hair and marking his place before closing the textbook. You raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for him to translate what he’d just read. You had confidence he was going to get this lesson right after spending the entire session in one chapter alone.

He meets your gaze head-on, the only sign that you’re getting more than you bargained for being the way his mouth quirks up into that familiar self-assured grin, and says in an astonishingly good Spanish accent, “Eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien.”

You gulp and sense yourself clenching the pencil in your hand a little too hard, feeling equally floored and flustered by Seungwoo’s unexpected words. You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that comes to life inside you, taking flight and raising your hopes far higher than you intended for them to go.

You don’t think you can form a coherent sentence around the lump in your throat, opening and closing your mouth until you settle for an uneasy “Wh-what?”

Seungwoo knows you heard him loud and clear, but he repeats it anyways, wanting to save the image of your nervous blush and replay it in his mind forever. “I said, eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien; haces que sea difícil concentrarte, cariña.” *see glossary at the end for translations*

He can tell purely from the way your eyes widen that you perfectly understand what he’s saying. He’d looked it up a thousand times on google translate, his latest search history reading ‘how to call someone cute in Spanish’ just so he could impress you. But when you continue to wordlessly stare up at him, he thinks he’s the real winner here; he wouldn’t mind if you looked adoringly at him like this for the rest of his life.

You blink rapidly and try to pull your thoughts together. “Umm... lo siento? I think? That was, uh, you had really good pronunciation just then...” You’re tripping over yourself to get some sort of response out, but it’s proving to be a difficult feat when Han Seungwoo’s hand rests gently on your leg like it was made to lay there. Your breathing grows shallow and shaky, all from one single touch, and it’s gonna be the thing to make you break what little composure you have left.

He traces lazy shapes on the hem of your skirt, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or give you the wrong idea. He just wants to be close to you, to see the gleam in your doe eyes as he cautiously puts his hand over your leg in a sudden display of affection.

It’s one touch- but it’s enough to set the ball rolling.

You’d be stupid not to ask the question at this point; he’s passed through the land of friendliness and is crossing the border into a territory that could end up being dangerous for your heart. But you still need to know, not willing to put up with another night of what if’s plaguing your head once it hits the pillow.

You gather up your courage and place your hand on top of his, determined not to get too distracted by how small yours looks compared to his.

“Seungwoo,” You start despite the wobble in your tone, “I... I don’t know if this is just me, but you’ve been awfully flirty with me the last couple of weeks. Is there- is there a reason you’re doing it, or is it all for show?” You’re pleased that you were able to at least ask the question. “Why are you acting so... so charming? Is it just in my head?”

If Seungwoo thought he wanted to kiss you a week ago, then now he knows what it feels like to crave something- he’s never craved anything as badly as he longs to finally close the damn gap between your lips and his.

He assumed he would turn into an anxious mess when the time came to confess, expecting to lose his confidence and mix up all of his words. He’s glad that that isn’t the case today though- because the longer he looks at you, the more certain he feels that he’s yours, and he’s oh so eager to make you his; that is, if you’ll have him.

So although you wait for him to answer you with bated breath, Seungwoo is at ease knowing that this isn’t all in his head- knowing that you feel it, too.

“Princess, don’t you see it?” He says simply, his other hand coming up to skim along the side of your face, “You’re absolutely irresistible. I thought I was making it obvious how much I wanted you, how much I want to be with you. Are you finally telling me you want it, too?” His words are sweet, only carrying a small teasing lilt to them as he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Are you telling me you wanna be mine?”

He brings your face closer to his, your neck craning up so you don’t lose eye contact. Your lips are only a few inches apart when he adds in a whisper, “Because I wanna be su novio, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare drops to your mouth and stays there, not moving even when your arms find their way around his neck. You’re suddenly thankful for the building’s layout, the back corner you’d chosen helping to conceal the sweet moment from the rest of the world.

You can hardly breathe at this point- but you’re able to answer him as he pulls you in, “si.”

Seungwoo can’t stop the smile from spreading before his lips meet yours the way he’s wanted them to since the day you pouted at him in the library.

You have to hold back a sigh of content when you finally, finally get the kiss you’ve waited three weeks for; it’s better than you ever even imagined it could be, full of tenderness and longing, with him showing you exactly how crazy he is for you. You don’t rush, losing yourself in the way you softly melt together.

It’s a gentle kiss, intent on making up for lost time without expecting anything in return. Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his neck, making his smile grow even bigger against yours mouth; he’s made you feel so many things, but none of them felt as promising as this. This felt warm and inviting... like a hint of better things to come.

You pull away to catch the breath that’s sprinted from your lungs faster than a runner at a track meet.

“Y/N...” Seungwoo sounds as starstruck as you feel, “I know you’re my tutor, and we only met a couple of weeks ago.. but it would make me really, really feliz if you’d go on a date with me sometime.”

He has to restrain himself from pulling you in for another kiss when your face lights up with joy, head nodding up and down as your smile only spreads wider; you twirl his soft strands around your fingers wordlessly, unable to do anything except look into his eyes with all the happiness in the world. You still aren't over the fact that Han Seungwoo just kissed you- you don't think you'll get over it any time soon, to be honest. Though who could really blame you?

The butterflies have started to swoop madly in your chest, soaring higher and higher, making you feel like you're flying above the ground, never wanting to land again. You're floating on a bliss you could only describe as cloud nine.

Even Seungwoo's hand in yours on the way out of Mayday Cafe can't bring you back down to the ground.

"Something on your mind, Y/N?" He asks playfully, knowing full well that you're exactly as dazed and dizzy as he is. You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on his hand, memorizing the way his hands cup your own and lace your fingers together like they were always meant to intertwine.

"You." You answer shyly, ducking your head to hide your growing blush. Seungwoo thinks you're the most adorable human being to walk this planet, and he hopes he'll never have to let go of your small hand; never have to go a day without coaxing a timid smile from you or tease you til your cheeks turn red. He may not be good at Spanish, but he's found that he at least has good luck in another language- your love language.

A language he can only speak with you.

"As long as that's the case, feel free to keep zoning out." He doesn't let up his relentless flirting and you childishly smack his side with your free hand. He laughs at your weak attempt and squeezes your hand gently; you almost shudder from the sparks shooting through your fingertips.

As you walk home side-by-side, Han Seungwoo makes a mental note to thank Ms. Carmen for forcing him to get tutored with as many Spanish words as possible. Because while he can't ask for directions just yet, it seems he's found his way to his heart; and it's all your Spanish teacher's fault.

Although once he gives you a goodbye kiss at your doorstep, he admits that maybe it isn't entirely Ms. Carmen's fault- it was yours for being so irresistible.

He wondered to himself, after you'd walked inside and closed the door, just how long it would take him to learn how to say "I love you" in Spanish.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

the end.

- 

GLOSSARY:

-muy excelente = very good

- eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien = you’re too cute for your own good

- haces que sea difícil concentrarte, cariña = you make it hard to focus, darling

-si = yes

-feliz = happy

[feeling-uncomfy]

H e l l o

In light of the masterpiece that is Wandavison, my small brain made up a Shoutoko AU and I would now die for it :D

If you haven't watched it, I strongly recommend it, but it's okay, there's no major spoilers to the show here(I hope), cause fuck canon.

The only warning is Tokoyami absolutely destroying a bunch of heros like the anit-hero he is.

Hope you enjoy! Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with both this and the Mafia AU, it should come out in the order I posted these, so Mafia AU first, then Wandavison AU

Anyways! Enjoy!

Tokoyami closed the door to his house with a sigh. Another day was over, another random shenanigan, another dramatic plotline, another day with his beloved complete. Not that it was hard to get through a day with him, the parts where they were apart felt like hours, and when they were together, everything just seemed to work.

It wasn't something that Tokoyami thought to be odd, he just found things were easier when Mezou was around him. No, he wasn't attached, he was just.. making sure nothing went wrong.

Speaking of, Tokoyami looked around the room for him, finding that he was alone. Panic hit him immediately and he sprinted to the living room.

"Mezou-?!" Tokoyami looked around the room and he could feel himself physically relaxing when he got an answer. "Upstairs, love, I'll be down in a minute." Tokoyami gave a quick response and sank onto the couch.

So far, this little place they learned to call home was going great. Mezou was happy, the neighbor's didn't ask questions, and no one was trying to kill them. It was everything the pair could've wanted. Mezou didn't need to hide his face as often, and Tokoyami thought he'd never seen him so happy.

Of course, there was the odd thing of needing to force someone to look away from Mezou, or have people remember the script, but it wasn't hurting people. The only thing that had broken so far was the radio, and there was a good reason for that.

Mezou had been cleaning the counter listening to music from the radio, perfectly normal, Tokoyami was set to walk in once a good song came on and they'd dance, that was, until the radio feed cut out. Mezou put down the dishes and walked over, naturally curious. Tokoyami hadn't been paying attention until he heard a voice that was not meant to be there.

"Shouji? Shouji, can you hear me?!" Mezou blinked, not knowing if he should answer, apparently he didn't need to. "I need you to listen, n̴̤̞̍̔͛o̶͇͋͆ṋ̴̍é̸͍͗̍ ̵͎̹̄̆̔ő̷̼̇f̷̨̟͇̈ ̶͍̥̰͝t̷̫̘̓́h̵̦̘̩͛͑̓í̸̪͂s̴͎̎̒͠ ̶̠̻̈́̀i̷̼̱͇͝ś̶̬̀̏ ̴͖̈́r̴̜̯͊è̵͙ä̷̪̬̇l̸͙͐̊́ ̷͕͔̔ You need to get Tokoyami to—"

The radio suddenly flew out the window, falling silent as it crashed into the bushes. Mezou jumped when Tokoyami calmly appeared beside him, looking out the window. Mezou looked between his boyfriend and the radio, wondering why it had sounded so... alien.

"Did you see that?" Tokoyami turned to him at the question. "See what, dear?" Mezou tilted his head, and pointed at the bushes. "The radio, didn't you see it fly out the window?" Tokoyami laughed softly and reached up to gently move a strand of hair behind Mezou's ear. "I didn't see anything, it must've just been a trick of the light,"

Tokoyami hated that he'd done it, but once he left, so did Mezou's memory of the radio. It was as simple as the last few times he'd done it, and yet the guilt never failed to make Tokoyami rethink everything. Yet, Tokoyami shook the thoughts away and left, waiting for his que as normal. Mezou shook himself out of his daydream and looked at the bushes, before shrugging and continuing what he was doing.

That was only two episodes ago, surely they wouldn't bother trying again? Tokoyami hoped they were smart enough anyways.

Apparently, he overestimated them. By a lot, it seemed.

Tokoyami jumped at the sound of someone knocking on the door, and he got up to answer it. He opened the door and immediately went to slam it shut again. Their homeroom teacher, Mr. Aziawa, stood at the door.

Tokoyami couldn't help the dry snort at his teacher's clothes, he fit in perfectly with his world, but he stood out like a sore thumb all at once. "Tokoyami, please listen to me," Aziawa was holding the door open.

Tokoyami glared. "You expect me to listen after the radio stunt?" Aziawa didn't let up, pushing against the door. "Tokoyami these are innocent people you've got in here, let them and Shouji go, please-"

At the mention of Mezou, Tokoyami's little restraint snapped, and Aziawa was sent flying backwards. "Get. Away. From. Us." Tokoyami snarled, fully prepared to murder his own teacher. Aziawa sat up, dazed, and stood up to meet Tokoyami's glare. "Tokoyami. People are being hurt. I know you miss him, but you can't—"

The rest of the sentence died with the door slamming shut, Tokoyami apparently having had enough of the conversation. Great. Aziawa sighed and called in the backup team, and reminded them only to engage when told to. And not a second before, or after.

Tokoyami glared at the people outside, wishing they would just leave them alone. He wasn't hurting anyone! Mr. Aziawa doesn't know what he's talking about, Tokoyami came to this conclusion as he prepared to shift the reality to suit tomorrow's script. Once he did that, he could deal with the problem outside and get some sleep with Mezou.

"Tokoyami! You have five seconds to stop this and hand Shouji's b̵̙͕̬̺̋͊ͅò̸̦̰̖̩̓̽̈́́̈̆d̴̙̖͛͆̌̀̇͛̂y̷̹͇̻͉̰͚̓͂͜͜—"

Tokoyami scoffed, flicking his wrist, making the voices distorted and hard to understand. Tokoyami hummed as he continued, not giving a damn about what they were doing out there. It was nothing Tokoyami couldn't fix.

"Fumikage...?" Now that made Tokoyami freeze. He stopped what he was doing to look up at the stairs. Mezou stood, looking half awake and concerned. Tokoyami cursed, he must've taken too long. It was fine, he could fix this too. Stupid Mr. Aziawa distracting him..

"Yes, Mezou? What's the matter?" Tokoyami kept a level head as he walked over, taking one of his hands and gently running circles into it. He noticed Mezou's head tilt towards him. Good, that was good. "I heard yelling, is everything okay..?" Tokoyami's heart broke a little at his quiet tone and the underlined fear behind his words.

The whole point was he'd never have to feel afraid again. Tokoyami suppressed a wave of anger at the strangers outside, no longer considering them hero's. If they were, they'd understand what he was trying to do. Tokoyami brought his attention back to Mezou, who had his eyes glued to the door.

Tokoyami shook his head. "It was nothing dear, just the neighbor's arguing..! You know how they get," Mezou nodded, but wasn't convinced. Tokoyami noticed and led him to the couch and sat him down, gently combing a hand through Mezou's hair. He mumbled words of reassurance while untangling the knots in his hair.

Mezou didn't notice from the affection that Tokoyami had a hand glowing a bright purple, settling around Mezou like a blanket, a sudden feeling of calm washing over him, making him relax and go slack in Tokoyami's hands. Tokoyami smiled softly and continued to gently brush through Mezou's hair while his magic worked the rest of him.

Mezou found himself completely relaxed and limp in minutes, his eyelids growing heavy. A bang at the door ruined their quiet moment, and startled Mezou so he was standing again. "Are you sure it's just the neighbor's? It doesn't sound like-" Mezou made his way over to the door, and Tokoyami forgave himself later for lunging across the room to grab the door handle.

"Mezou, dear, I'll get it, you wait by the couch, alright?" Tokoyami had always found Mezou's stubbornness to be endearing, but for the love of fuck, could he just once agree? Mezou stared at Tokoyami, then the door. "If it's our neighbor, why can't I see them?" Tokoyami blinked, and cursed himself. He'd been caught out in his own lie.

Tokoyami sighed softly, and leaned in, kissing Mezou slowly to buy himself some time. Which, thankfully, worked wonders. Mezou went a bright red and kissed back, successfully distracted. Tokoyami smiled into the kiss, and flicked his wrist towards the door.

Aziawa was preparing for a lot of things, but he wasn't prepared for his own student to walk out and start yelling at him. Kirishima never yelled, or was angry, in fact. Aziawa was at a loss of words, and even more so when Bakugo of all people started yelling back. It was getting heated, literally.

Aziawa had his team step back, watching both of them, eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was no way these two were arguing, not in a world where everything was apparently "perfect". Kirishima knocked on Tokoyami's door, looking mad. Aziawa couldn't help his surprise when Shouji answered.

Last time he'd seen him, H̴̨̗͈͇͚̃̋̈́̋̋͛̅ḛ̸̡̛̤̠̦̤̘̺͕͇̰͇͎̬̑̐́̈́͛̈́̚ͅ ̴̧̧̘̠̦̭̞̣̞͙̌͗͐͂̃̆w̴̩͓̫͓̐̀̈͐̈́̉̋̕ả̸̢̢͔̻̺̮̬̗͓̿̍̇̍̐̊͒͆̇̕͝͝ş̴̡̛̪̺̬̺̿͂̊̓͗̾́̐ ̵̨̢̢̛̣̻̭̳̯͎͎̬̄̎̈̇̋͌̀̎̎̉͗͛͂͒d̴͓̤͙̖̫̬͇͒͆̅͒͐̀̎̕͘e̸͚̯͛̎͛̇̆ǎ̸̧͎̪̝̬̺̯̈́̾̑̓͌͊͒͜d̵̜̤̈̌̈́̀̚̕͠͝

Aziawa gasped loudly and clutched his head. Wow, that hurt. Aziawa shook his head, hearing thoughts that weren't his own. Looking around wildly, Aziawa stupidly repeated the thought.

Shouji Mezou was d̴͓̤͙̖̫̬͇͒͆̅͒͐̀̎̕͘e̸͚̯͛̎͛̇̆ǎ̸̧͎̪̝̬̺̯̈́̾̑̓͌͊͒͜d̵̜̤̈̌̈́̀̚̕͠͝.

""̶͖̳͖̙̣̙̬͆̽̈͜͝S̷̛̯̤̪͆h̸̺̼̥̬̳͖̙̗̟̫̮̱͛͌̎͂̌̿͘͜u̶̢͍̞̱̫͇̳͕̠͐̌̀̊͂̀͂͂̍̀͝ṯ̵̦̟̣͚̖̘̙̞͂̂̾͗͌͝ ̵̱͖̦̦͔̭̙̮͉̳͕̄͠ư̷͕̲͇̰̖̼͉̰͈͇̬̳̻̯̌̽͑͝p̸͇͓͕̖̜̺̗̥̖͖̌͗͆̆͘͝.̵͍͙̻̲̫͈̹̪̅̀̿̋͂̓̀̒́̎̎"̵̡̧̛̰̪̙̯̬̜͙͚̪̭͈̹͋͑͋̆́̌͑̓̚͘͝͝ͅ"

Aziawa froze at the voice. That wasn't his, yet when he looked around, he was alone. Suddenly, the whole world seemed to turned back to the conversation Kirishima and Shouji were having, Aziawa becoming nothing more than a cameo.

It didn't make sense why Tokoyami would change that now. But the focus wasn't on A̷̢̮͔̟̰̩̪̿́́̿̾z̶̬͈̭̀i̵̮̋͂̈͗̅̓̌̚͝à̶͔w̷̛̫͕̯̭̫̹͎͆́̓͝͠͝ą̶̟̞͚̫̩͇̪̕͝͠ anymore.

"Shouji!" Kirishima's smile was forced and he went on a rant about how annoying Bakugo was being, his voice raising whether he meant it or not. Shouji couldn't help the flinch at Kirishima slamming his hands a little forcefully on the door.

Every time Mezou tried to jump in, Kirishima brought them onto a new topic. Mezou listened, patient as ever, until Bakugo suddenly made his way up the driveway. Kirishima and Bakugo stared at each other. Mezou wasn't surprised by the laughing track that followed in the background.

Kirishima and Bakugo started fighting, forgetting about Mezou, who was leaning on the door. Mezou looked over at the bushes, and froze when he saw something move. No one was paying attention, maybe he could take a look?

Mezou made his way over slowly, the yelling in the background sounding like static and distorted. He got to the bush and saw more movement. Very hesitantly, he moved a branch to the side. At first, he didn't see anything. Mezou looked closer and his wrist was grabbed, making him jump.

Someone was staring at him, their face half melted and looking like they're in agony. They pulled Mezou close, screaming at him, trying to tell him something. Mezou's breathing picked up, giving away his panic. They were yelling nonsense, until Mezou was right in their face, they're voice was as clear as day.

"Get out of this town."

Mezou blinked and he was back in the bedroom. Alone. He looked around to see that everything was how he left it. It was clean, and quiet. Too quiet. He jumped at the front door slamming shut. Curious, Mezou made his way downstairs and saw Fumikage standing alone in the living room.

H̶̨͊͊̊̍͌̈́̎͊̒͂̇̍̑̊͊́̓̓͛̃͐͋͘̕͘͝ą̵̮̫̥̺͈̺̘̰̫̜͉̘̼̑̂̃̀̉͠s̶̨̨͙͖̳̰̫̻͇̤̩̩͎̻̜̠̳̩̹̤̟̥͎̱̘͕͘͠ń̷̡̡̛̲͕͉̻̭̮̻̭̺͓̚'̴̝̻͈͉̘͓̞̩̬̲̰͇̠̉͊͛̑́̈́͆̀̔́̽̂̍͂̚͘ͅt̵͆̀̄̉͝͝��̨̘̻̭̝̼͋͘ͅ ̷̨͙͕̖̪̱̺̥̖̟̩̦͎̬̤̳̉̄̃͜t̶̡̻͔̮̹̩͙̖̩͉͈̗̪̱̫̝̰͙͌̈̋́̌̓͐̀̒̌̆̐͌͘̕̚͜h̶̭̩̦͉̪͕̫̬͍̚ȋ̵̘̯̈̅͌̾͑͑́̍͊͋̆̀̇̾́̽̿͌̽͊͐̃̎̚ş̴̡̗͈͔̞̤̱̯͚̘͔̯̜̞̲̦͎̖͔̫̥̬̮̭͐̍̌͒͐̋͆̐̐̇̓́̋̀̑̓̽́ͅ ̴̡̢̫̪̼̱̦̫̉̀̓͘̚h̶̡̢̛͚̫̦̘̬̀̇͌̓̓̐̊̈́̿͗͝ą̶̢̡̜̞͙̱̝̘͓̝̟͚̘̭̱̱̯̫͎͓͈̖̳͊̈́̈̐͌̊͗̀̅͊͗͜͜͝͝p̵͎͚͐̆̉̍̉̄̇͒́̄̿̾̚͠͝ṗ̴̡̺̜̭̙̪͇̙̺͈͇̞̈́̇̈́̑͛̔̌́̄̽͌͂͐̈̐̓̈́͛͑̐̚͠ȩ̶̮͔̘̖͔͇̥̪̰̤͍͈͕̥͕̫͓̍́ñ̸̨̨̜̻̹̫̰̣͖̩̯̠̫̗͉͉̭̲̱́̄̈́̈́͆͂̉̑̌̾̉͘̚ė̵̡͓̩̳̮̘͓̦̦͈͕͇͚̼͕͂͑̌̔̄̈̊̿̈̀̋̄͑̉̚d̶̡̛͎̟͉̩͍̫͕̫͑̿̑̊̾̂́̍ ̵̳̭̲͉̲̟̙̩͔̜̙̰̼̈́͆͂͒̊͜͝b̸̛̬͓̰̮̪̰͎̮̫̭̣͔̤̤̯͔͌̀̀̌͑̑́̏͌̇͛̕̕̕̕̚͝͠e̶̮̲̻̮͑̾̏͗͗f̷̢̡̛̺̹̼̞̘̬͇̤͙̱͒̆̔͑́͂̍̿͂͗̾̓̇͐̏̕͘͝ǫ̷̨̢̼̦̻̦̫̠͔͓̩̫̺̱͕̥̹̩̾̈́̈́̓̀̽̋̀̽͊̈́̉͝ŗ̴̢̛̤͓̼͉̟̹͎̂̔̈̅̆̏̎̽́̔̂͊̋͛̿͂́͊͒́̚͘͠ͅe̷̘̮̭͔̱̲̼̣͗̉͐̊̅̃̂?̴͙̼̣̝̀̒̈͛͌̈́̈́́̉́̎͛̊̌͂

"Fumikage...?" Mezou's voice was quiet, wondering why there was a slam. Fumikage seemed to freeze for a second before looking up. "Yes, Mezou? What's the matter?" Fumikage made his way over and gently held his hand, an instantaneous calming feeling washing over him. "I heard yelling, is everything okay..?" Fumikage frowned at Mezou's tone, clearly having a problem with his fear.

Fumikage assured him it was the neighbor's arguing again, and Mezou found himself sitting on the couch, feeling fuzzy. Wasn't he just by the stairs? How did he-? All his anxieties disappeared when Fumikage ran a hand through his hair, that fuzzy feeling returning ten-fold.

Mezou felt his eyes closing, and didn't even register the door slamming again, all he heard was Fumikage whispering to him. "I think you should go to sleep, Mezou.." Tokoyami gently tilted Mezou's chin up so he could look at him and smiles slightly at Mezou's eyes drooping.

Mezou didn't think he could get a full sentence out, so he returned Fumikage's smile with a nod and leaned into the comfort. He didn't see the mist surrounding them both, didn't realise the calming effect it was having on him, and even if he did, he was put to sleep too quickly to be able to say much about it.

"...goodnight, Mezou." Fumikage placed a small kiss on his forehead before laying Mezou down, wrapping him up in a blanket and keeping the mist around him, making sure he stays asleep.

Then, Fumikage turned to glare at the door. Thankfully, this time it would be different. He walked outside, where Dark Shadow was having their fun with the trespassers. Aziawa was thrown onto the ground, feeling blood well up in his mouth. He sat up and glared at his student.

Tokoyami payed no mind to him, and continued changing the people and sending them on their way. No matter what, he wasn't going to listen. Aziawa searched for something to say. "What about Hawks? What about the rest of 1A? Tokoyami, Shouji and the other's can't stay here!"

Tokoyami turned his glare onto his teacher. "Shut up. You have no place here." Aziawa was picked up by Dark Shadow and was held tightly by the neck. Tokoyami stared at his teacher, honestly looking a little bored. "This isn't your world, you have no idea what you're dealing with. Leave, and never come back."

Aziawa blinked, and he was flying backwards towards the wall. Another blink, and he was back in the real world, hitting the ground harshly. Hawks ran up to help him stand. "What happened in there?! Did you see either of them?"

Aziawa sat up and stared at the barrier. "...I didn't teach him any of that-"

T̶̡̡̢̧̛̘̪͎̖͍̪̪̦̬͙̺̫̫͖̯̠̠̖̝̠͙̳͓̯͍̦̫͕͒͆͆̀̾͗̾͒͘͜͝͠h̴̡̧̗̩͕̬̞̼̞͎̥̥̄̍̅͂̀͂͐̑̾̓̚͘͘̚͝͝e̴̠̾̎͛͝ ̴̗̪͕̭͖̦͚̼̝̦̻̜̖͚̟̏̈́̿̀̀͆̆̎͑̈̊̓́̏͑̅͑̓͝͝͝o̶̥̩̠̦͎͙͇̩̮͋̈͛̿͂̃͐̑̚ͅų̷̧̢̢̛̛̘̞͔̦̤̞͚͉̹̻̝͖̙̘̫̗̣̗̰̫͙̥̺̰͇̮͚͔̞͊̂̆̏͛̈́̊̅̈́̔̔͑̈́̊̈͂͘̚̚̕͠͝͝ť̸̛̝̖̠͓̦̻̊̑̊̇͐͗͊͗͛̈̓̈́̏̄̔́̈́̾̇̈́͑̓̂̚͘͘͠͝͝ş̸̟̘̤̤̪̟͓̩͍̬̗̠̰͖̥͎̗͇̞̫̘͚̞̠̻͈͓͎̮͍̦͍̑̒͛í̷̧̡̪̥̳̖̗͉͚̙͓̗̫̺͍̪͙̥̖͈͇̞̦̜̺̣͚̪̳̮̠̈́͛̏̒̔͆̿͛̑͐͑̀̐̑̑̌͗͘̕̕̚ď̵̡̨̡̨̧̨̫̮̯̪̜̱̩͔̩̺̫̫̺̞̱̻̥̯͙̤̀͊̔ề̷̖̹͎̪̯̣̊ͅ ̵̡͕̰̥͚̳̫͈̤̥͈̭̖͕̟̗͙̦̬̟̯͒͋̋̀͐̒̏̾͐̇͜ͅḑ̷̢̡̨̲͎̬̺̲̰̥͔̤͈̪̯̗̮͇̻͙̯͙̱͓̦̠̜͇̝̱͉̌̀̈́͐͑̐̔̔̀̏o̵̡̲̮̺͑e̵̡̡̨̙̼̼̳͓͖̜̗̥̹͕̞̭̪̹̙͕̺̣̥͎͈͚̾͆͜ͅͅŝ̵̡̨̢̛̺͎͚̩̥͍̪̩͓̹̘̘̫͍̙̫̟̭̞͓̰̩̱̅̐̂͝ņ̶̨͖̦̰̮̮̳̫̼̹̦̲̲̲̭̭̮́̾̅̇̓͊̆̿͛̋̾̇͊̈́͋̎̏̚͝'̸̪̣͓͚͍̍̅͂͗̒̽̀̓͜ͅt̷̢̙̰̥̝̙̳̊̏̽̀̽̔͌̔̌͝ ̷̢̛̝̯̯̳̦̖̬͔͇͓̗͙̗̭̞̈́͒͆̎̆̔̒̋͑̐̒́͌̓̂̎̇̏͘͝m̶̱̬̙͇̱̆̇̏̂̐̊̀̋̒̽͌̕͝ą̸̲͕̗̪̭̲̻̳̺̘̰̯̲̳̺̲̩̠̫̓̾̓̾̈́̊͑̌͘ṫ̴̡̢̧̰̳̪̞̰͍̹̦̤̮̜̫̝̳͙̒̑͋̈́̉͛̈́̒̀̍̃͛̌̋͒͐̈́͒̕̕͜͜͜͠ͅţ̶̢̢̛̤̜̰̤̞͉̗̗͉̬̬̰͉̜̬̪͕͇̘̯̰͌̏͗͋̽̋͂̀̒͂̀̈̿̔̅̉͘͘͘͜͝͠͝ͅe̷̢̢̪̗̟̩̝͈̘̤̙̺̤͂͌̇̀̓̈́̏̿̈̈́͜ŗ̴̧̧̛̖͉͉̭̹̳̫̼͎̙̣͔̪̹̪̖̙̥̩̠͚̣͍͖̥̲̹̍̆̈́͊̈̒̎̓̍͘.̷̺̥͈̪̹̲̭͔̙͉͇̥̦̠̎̅̃͛̌͐̑̾̀̿͐̕͘͘͜͠ ̸̨̧̧̛̛̛̻̬̬̪̙̫̝̣͓̬̝͉̪̙͙̝̼̒͌̋̐̈́̇̓̄͛͊̓̑͗͊̊̓͒͒̌̐̑͂̀̑̌̀̅͛̕͘

Tokoyami closed the door with a sigh. Another day was over, another random shenanigan, another dramatic plotline, another day with his beloved complete. Not that it was hard to get through a day with him, the parts where they were apart felt like hours, and when they were together, everything just seemed to work.

He walked over to see Mezou still sound asleep, curled around a blanket. Tokoyami smiled softly and brushed some of his hair out of his eyes. The light of his life, was safe for another day, and that's all Tokoyami needed to call it a successful day.

"Dark Shadow," Tokoyami muttered, and the quirk came to attention, picking Mezou up carefully and keeping the blanket around him. Tokoyami nodded to the entity before leading them upstairs to their shared bedroom.

Tokoyami had Dark Shadow lay Mezou down while Tokoyami closed the blinds and with a click of his fingers the lights were off and he was in bed. Immediately, he was pulled into a hug by Mezou, a small kiss on his cheek and Mezou buried his face into Tokoyami's hair.

Tokoyami hugged back, kissing Mezou and gently running a hand through his hair. Mezou was quiet for a moment before letting put a small purr. "Love you, Fumikage." Tokoyami's heart shattered and rebuilt itself with just those words.

In no way at all did he deserve this, did he deserve Mezou. But he had him, and Tokoyami didn't plan on letting him go. "I love you too, darling, always." Mezou hummed in response, drifting back to sleep, blissfully unaware of his whole world being rewritten outside his window.

Tokoyami sighed and watched Mezou fall asleep again. It would be fine in the morning, this wouldn't have happened, and there would be no real memory of it..

Tokoyami held onto tighter as the bedroom changed to suit the time and settled down to sleep. "You never have to worry again, Mezou," Tokoyami closed his eyes and held the love of his life closer.

"I have e̶̲͎̎̎̔͒́̐̂͐̈͌͋̍̇̄́̓̔͗͂͗͐̋̑͊̀̇̑̿͊͝v̵̢̧̢̡̧͖͕̤̩͇͎̖͔̯̦̼̞̣̹̯̝̩̻̫̜̭͔̮͍̠͔̥̖̖͈͓̬̦̀̎̎̔̿̿̽̐͑̕͘͠͝͝ͅͅe̴̞͎͚͓͈̣̹͎͎͂̓̊͊̒͒̍͊̽͐̒̍̾̄̅͘r̷̢̤̘̖̗̟͐́̈́̀̈́̋̐́̓͋͋́̀̋̆̇̏͒̑̕̕̕͜͝͝͝ͅy̸̧̨̢̖̜̫̠̣̲͈̼̩̦̗͇̱̙̥̼̪̘̳̥͚̖̗̙̳̻͎͓̻̗̲̱̘̬͈͎̻̼̳̤̿̓́͋̍̽̊̚͠t̵̢̜̘̱̖̞͖̹͇̹̞̀͑͑̈́̾͊̍̾̌̃͐́̆̽͝͝ͅh̴̡̨̧̧̛̛̛̛͉͙̝̱̲̗̬̩̤̘̺͉̯̿̀͌̌͗̄̈̈́͌̎̃̓͛͑̓̎̓̔̉̋̍̀͌̐̈́̐̐̆̈́̊͒̂̓̈́̅̕͘͜͝͝į̷̡̧̨̫̜̲̣̭͎̝̖̩̲̰͚̮̥̦̗̘̜̱̣̼͔̦̖͔͇͎̲̞͍͓̠̑̊̃̈̈́̊̾͂͐͘͘͝͠ͅn̸̝͖͈̏̇͜g̵̛͍̺̯͎͕̏͊͊͗͗̓͌͌̉͋ under control."

[The text sort of fucked up, but I don't know how to fix it soooo]

[I hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun with this, and I can't wait to write more]

[darkhymns-fic]

A New World of All of Us

There's a lone inn that stands in the middle of nowhere, once a place for those on pilgrimage to rest during a leg of their journey. But few speak the name of the Goddess anymore...

Two travelers come by, unfamiliar, but with a dog. But a customer was a customer.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Noishe, Original Characters Rating: PG Chapters: 1 of 3 Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 6: Let's go explore the new world together! I suddenly wanted to write a story with OCs, but with Lloyd and Colette being the main focus still! So, this is what came of it, and it's not complete yet! But there is a first chapter of hopefully just three altogether. If you read and enjoy, please let me know! And thank you everyone for Colloyd Week this year!

--

For the inn that was placed on the crossroads leading between Iselia and Triet, many still called it a House of Salvation whenever they passed by the structure.

It wasn’t such a surprise as to why they still did- for ever since it was claimed by the new owners, they hadn’t done much changes to its original architecture. It still maintained its two stories, shaped like a pillar, with a great open area inside on the first floor. Where once the symbols of Martel would be decorated along the walls with banners and silk, where the humble statue of Spiritua would be placed on the small prayer dais in the front, with mats on the floor to cushion a worshipper’s knees, it was now just a general dining area for visitors, with an innkeeper’s counter placed to the side. The prayer alcove had been converted to a delicacy stand, selling the innkeeper’s homemade treats they had baked for the day.

Upstairs were still the rooms for the weary to rest, once mainly meant for those on a pilgrimage. But many didn’t really go on pilgrimages anymore – none but the very devout few, who still believed in the Goddess that now watched over a newly remade world.

Mara didn’t really think much about that really. Seeing the time as the sun lowered in the sky, she stepped out of the barely renovated inn, a broom in hand, and proceeded to sweep up the dirt on their front steps. But the broom was a little too tall for her, and she struggled to keep it elevated just right as she went about her task. She also hadn’t done the laundry recently, so her dress was a mixture of dust and polka-dots, and her boots were scuffed from the mud from a few days back when she had to handle a few maintenance tasks in the rain.

Then again, business had been slow these days, and it wasn’t like there were patrons around to keep up appearances for…

And her brother hadn’t been back for many hours. He had left this morning for the nearest town, and already it was practically sunset, the horizon letting her know with its orange glow. “I should have gone with him,” she muttered to herself, pushing out the broom in an odd angle that nearly made her lose her balance. She squeaked, held onto a nearby fence railing, feeling the slow burn of embarrassment flood her face. “And he needs to get me a new broom too…”

She might only have been half as embarrassed as she was, if not for hearing the voice that was, apparently, not too far off. “Uh, excuse me? Kid?”

Mara had only been lucky enough to cut off her own terrified shriek, clutching at her broom like a weapon as she turned. In front of her, the man that had called out to her held up both hands – and they looked to be very red hands? “Whoa, sorry! I… I was just checking if you were open!”

Ah. Damn. She had done it again. She had nearly scared away another customer.

“Hold on! I mean… welcome to the All Hands Spiritua Inn! Where we accept hands of all kinds from all walks of life!” She had said that way…way too loud. Mara did all she could to not wince from all that blunder that came out of her mouth. “Have you seen our pamphlets in town?”

“Huh? Uh, no not really…” Even though this guy was clearly unsure about the whole situation… he wasn’t exactly backing away! Mara tried to take that as a good sign. “Just happen to know this place from a few years back… This is an inn now, right?” He pointed at the sign that was hanging off the front, the hinge off the left just a tad bit lopsided. “Is it alright if we stayed?”

Mara opened her mouth to shout a resounding YES to his question. Then she looked at him for just a bit longer, trying to determine his age, coming up with maybe in his mid-twenties or so… The red hands she had been seeing was from the gloves he wore (instead of being really badly sunburned like she’d been thinking), which matched with the red of his outfit, at least from what she could tell. He wore a brown traveling cloak that was clasped at the collar, nearly reaching his feet. From his motions, she could hear the familiar clinking of metal – weapons, she gathered. A mercenary? Or was he a bandit?

But then, she figured he’d try to be a little more subtle with his weapons if he was coming here to steal her gald under the pretenses of being a customer… His hair was also a bit unkempt, waves of russet hair that under the setting sun, seemed to turn into a darker red if she squinted at it just so. There was only just the hint of stubble on his chin, his missed days of shaving catching up to him.

Then she thought about what he said. “Pardon, who’s we?” She didn’t see anyone with him…

“Oh, me and my friend!” He smiled at her the moment he mentioned said friend, as if a light had just been turned on in the vicinity. “And our dog. Do you allow dogs here?”

“Of course!” she said immediately. “We get strays around here all the time anyway.” Too much, sometimes. Also, her brother wasn’t exactly fond of such strays for a certain reason, if she could just remember why…

“Great!” With that, the man in red turned, put both hands around his mouth and yelled, “Heeey!! It’s all good!!”

Huh. Maybe this guy was a bit stranger than she thought. Well, she had already invited him to stay so there was nothing she could do. I probably should have asked if he had money first….

When she started wondering if he was calling in backup of other bandits to rob her blind, she saw the figure he was calling for. Someone who was just in the distance, half-hidden in shadows by the setting sun. From where she stood, it looked like a horse-rider, and as said horse seemed to gallop forward, its rider waved back happily.

The man waved back so strongly, enough to nearly knock off the cloak from his shoulder. Mara raised an eyebrow. Why did he act like he hadn’t seen this person in forever?

As the figure got closer, she barely could see much else at all. They were dressed in the same brown cloak as the man but it covered them from head to toe, complete with a hood that was pulled over their head. All Mara could make out were the white gloves they wore, which held lightly onto the mane of the horse they rode.

“Hello, I hope we’re not intruding,” they finally said. The voice was soft, slightly higher-pitched – and by then, Mara saw the stray locks of blonde hair as they fell out of the hood. She had been so entranced by the figure that she hadn’t noticed the horse they rode until it was basically in front of her.

It then started to…whine?

Wait, that wasn’t a horse! Mara blinked, looking at the creature with its snout, its overly large ears that fanned out from the sides of its face, its fur with varying shades of green. It was a… what was it?

“Noishe here doesn’t bite,” the man said with a grin, ruffling the creature’s fur, unmindful to the giant ears that looked as if they would whack him across the face at any moment. “He’s a real good dog.”

Mara blinked. “Excuse me. Dog?” She glanced at the creature, noting those familiar features, yet… “That’s a dog.”

“Yep! Would you like to pet him?” spoke the figure – the woman, she finally figured – who still sat atop the dog. Who rides a dog?!

“I’m… I’m fine.” Mara still held her broom, half defensively, even though one end of it was dangerously close to unbalancing herself again. “Well, lucky for your…dog… we have the stables already cleaned out, so you can settle it there.”

“Thanks.” The man grinned, hands on his knees as he peered down at her from his height. She mentally groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Hey, so, are your parents around?”

Yes, of course this always happens, doesn’t it?

“And why would you want to know that?” she countered back.

This predictably threw the guy for a loop, making him blink and stare dumbfounded for a solid five seconds. “Well, it’s kinda scary for kids to be by themselves, you know? And we wanted to ask the owners of this place a few things.”

“You’re looking at her.” Okay, co-owner, but it was still the truth.

He blinked again. “Huh?”

“I’m not a kid.” Mara frowned, standing up tall. “I’m eighteen years old!”

The guy scratched the back of his head, smiling nervously. “I mean… you kinda still are…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Owner,” said the lady from behind him. She had dismounted from her dog (?) and finally pulled down her hood. Mara held her breath when she saw how the woman had a cascade of golden hair that was arranged in a braid, turned darker by the setting sun, and nearly reaching her waist.

Something about her also seemed… different to Mara, the way she smiled, or the curve of it, at least. She felt a sense of elegance from her, and wondered if maybe she was one of those priests from years back. But the Church of Martel’s influence had waned over the years, and most of its clergy had long abandoned the cloth with the appearance of Tethe’alla.

“My name is Colette,” said the woman, subtly breaking the silence. “Is it okay to ask for your name?”

Mara considered, then nodded. It was nice for some people to have manners here. “I’m Mara. I run this inn with my brother, whose getting us food for tonight’s dinner. I can promise you two a warm meal in a bit if you stay.” Then she pointedly looked at the man. “And be sure to treat me with respect like any adult!”

She was pleased to see the man looked thoroughly embarrassed, still scratching away at that itch on his scalp. “Ehe… Sorry.” A gentle nudge from the woman named Colette startled him for a moment, before his worried face was replaced with a big grin. “Oh yeah, and my name’s Lloyd! Thanks for having us.”

Remember to be nice to people. She could hear her brother’s words in her head and tried her best to cut off any tones of snark in her voice. “Not any trouble. We’re happy you’ve chosen us at the All Hands Spiritua Inn! Now come right this way!” She winced again, seeing the somewhat stunned look on the others faces. She always went overboard like this, or just be grumpy to people otherwise…

After getting the dog to lay somewhat comfortably in the hay (and the woman insisting on giving the giant weird-looking dog a few belly scratches on the tummy), she finally led them inside through the double doors, warning to watch their step on the stoop of the entrance. It was always higher than expected, and she’d had to mentally train herself to hop over it every time or risk a little stumble.

The guy named Lloyd followed her example, deftly hopping over the stoop. The woman named Colette deftly did not.

Mara felt as if she watched Colette’s fall in slow-motion, hearing her startled yell, seeing the way she flailed her arms, which made the cloak around her flutter like a pair of burlap wings – revealing a stark-white outfit that she was wearing underneath – and then fall flat on her face against the floorboards.

Any impression of elegance Mara felt from her instantly went flying out the window.

Lloyd rushed to her side, grasping Colette by her arm. “Colette! You alright?”

“Ehe…” Colette raised her head to Lloyd, already a bruise forming on her forehead. Mara had to wince at that. Ouch. “Sorry. Guess I tripped again.”

“That looked like it really hurt,” he commented, pulling her up gently, their boots making the floor creak.

“Kind of, yeah…”

“Uh, I can get you some ice and a salve for that bruise, miss,” Mara helpfully offered, realizing soon that maybe she should. And since it was their inn that this had happened, she didn’t want any weird legal matters happening.

“That’s okay, I’ll just sleep it off,” Colette said, smiling gently again – just now with a little bump on her forehead. It kinda ruined the effect…

“Yeah, and we got plenty of apple gels to help!” Lloyd looked strangely proud about that, but once he turned back to Colette, his expression went back to concern. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. Oh, wait-” Now back to Mara with questioning eyes. “Uh, is it still just one room up there?”

He said that so specifically that Mara was caught off guard from it. It was true that this place had only one room upstairs, fitted with multiple beds to house people in need of rest. They had kept meaning to put some walls in, or at least dividers, but they never really had time for it. “Yes! It’s just at the top of the stairs. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

“Thanks.” The guy gave her a thumbs up (How weird) and then led Colette up the stairs, their cloaks the last thing Mara saw as they ascended. She thought she also saw Colette’s face continually looking towards downstairs, especially to the dining area specifically.

Once they were out of sight, and she heard the door click softly, she remembered something very important.

Crap, she thought, tightening her hands on the broom she was still holding for some reason. I forgot to ask them to pay…

--

“Is it really not okay to look around there?”

“Maybe not yet… Don’t want to weird that kid out - and he’s not here anyway. Maybe we can try at dinner. Also… you really should rest that bump of yours.” A small laugh. “Sorry I didn’t catch you.”

“It’s okay. My clumsiness is supposed to be lucky, remember? Maybe this means we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

“Heh, you know, you’re right!” A creaking of the bed as someone on it, followed by the sound of shuffling, like someone rummaging through a pack. “Got the apple gels here. You should have some.”

“Okay. Can you feed them to me?” Followed by a light giggle.

A sigh, but there was laughter in it, warm and sweet. “You dork.”

--

When Tavi finally neared the inn, it was with labored breathing, his legs rushing fast across the roads. On his back, he lugged a heavy satchel filled with day-old bread, hastily preserved meat and cheese, along with a few spare gels and any other foodstuff that he could get at a bargain. He tried to keep it steady with his left hand, grasping at one of the straps on his shoulder, making sure it didn’t tilt and carry him down with it.

In his right hand, he held onto the hilt of his sheathed sword. His Exsphere glinted from the shine of the twin moons overhead, seemed to burn from where it was set, just beneath his knuckles.

The attacks on the roadsides had been more frequent lately.

Tavi was at least fast when he needed to be, hoping he had lost his pursuers along the way. A quick shift into a thicket of trees, using what little magic he knew to sweep away his footprints, and his sharp ears could finally just hear the soft chirping of crickets at his feet, the rustle of soft wings as they flapped above him.

As long as they didn’t know where he was headed… they’d be fine. They would have to be.

The inn was a welcome sight to him, looking strangely so pastoral in the nighttime. The paint on its right side was peeling off, and the lower awning that stretched just beneath the second floor was eaten away by mildew, but all in all… it wasn’t half-bad of a place.

He only slowed down his run to a light jog, sword slightly rattling against his leg as he did so, when he saw something using the stables they had. But it was covered in shadow, possibly sleeping inside. There was fresh hay and the trough was filled with water. Was Mara taking in stray cats again? Much of the felines liked to roam the woods near their inn, sometimes curling up on the roof, mewling out into the night. Though now, it was rather quiet…

Shaking his head, he then quickly sprinted to the inn once he saw how close he was. He pushed open the double doors, deftly hopping over the little out-of-line step with ease as he did so.

He was then met with a broom to the face.

“By the Goddess, Tavi!” Mara shouted, hopping on one foot as she jerked back the broom before she did any more damage. “You can at least knock to let me know you’re here!”

“Can you not tell it’s me by now?” he argued, spitting out a few broom bristles from his mouth. “You’re so jumpy.”

“I think I have every right to be?” spoke his sister. “You never consider how I feel.”

Though older than him by two years, she was much shorter than him, just coming up to the middle of his chest. She had a head of green hair cut just at the chin, yet still covering up her ears. In her polka-dotted apron and big boots that looked like they should belong to a blacksmith instead of a small innkeeper, she was always quite a strange sight to see.

He shook his head at her with a laugh. “At least help me with the groceries, I’m about to break my back in half from all this.” He played up the struggle as he slowly removed the satchel, bemoaning all the while. “Treat your elders right!”

“I’m older than you! Enough with that joke!”

Tavi grinned, but Mara had laid her broom against the counter to reach up for the foodstuff and promptly walked away to the kitchen. “We we have customers now. I’ll have to make them dinner too.”

As Tavi tried to tie back his long red hair, he paused in mid-action, then rounded on Mara. “What? Right now?” He groaned. “I didn’t buy enough to feed more than us! How many are there?!”

“Then I guess you’ll have to tighten your belt!” Mara wagged a finger at him. “Besides, it’s just two of them. They seem pretty harmless, and we need the money! They’ve been up in their room for the past hour, so don’t go waltzing upstairs right now.”

Then she pointed that wagging finger at his hand. “And you’ll need to hide that. Or are you forgetting to do that while in town?”

Tavi instinctively place his other hand over the Exsphere, feeling a strange sense of self-consciousness. “I know. I just… got it torn off by a tree branch earlier while I walked.” He wasn’t lying when he said that either.

Maybe Mara suspected, maybe she worried… But instead she walked back into the kitchen, hefting the satchel more easily than her height would seem to say. “Oh, and they have a dog too. A really big one at that, just so you know.”

Tavi choked on his own spit, glaring at Mara once more. “Mara, did you just forget that I’m allergic to dogs?”

At the door to the kitchen, Mara stopped. She turned back to him slowly. “I did actually.”

“Please, Mara…”

“Just don’t go near it! It’s outside now anyway, and they’ll be gone by morning I’m sure.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath. At the very least, there was no dog fur near him. “Fine. I’ll be by for dinner,” he said, then headed for one of his own rooms that was to the right of the main alcove of the building – which was more of a storage room that he had converted into his very own.

He figured he’d have to look nice for his guests, and picked up an old mirror that needed a good cleaning, trying to fix up the messy locks of red hair that had been tousled everywhere during his run.

With how tall he was, his lanky frame, and his own bright hair compared to Mara’s, no one would have ever taken them both to be brother and sister. Not unless one happened to catch the subtle points of their ears.

He made sure, as he combed his hair, to cover that part of himself. Better to be safe than stabbed, he thought wryly.

--

Noishe, in his pen, scrabbled at the hay to make himself comfortable. Some of the water from the trough had spilled over as he lapped it earlier, so he made sure to gather the drier parts of the hay to rest on comfortably.

It had been a long couple of weeks of travel, and he was looking forward to rest. But even Noishe knew he might not get that tonight…

From his position, he poked out his head from the stable, hearing the door shut suddenly. He raised his head up to the windows, seeing the light flicker out quickly inside. Only by the moon could he see the shape of familiar faces, familiar hands.

He remembered Lloyd’s hurried look from earlier, Colette’s soft words of reassurance. It had been tough recently, but always they had each other. In the light of the morning, he’d never seen smiles as bright as theirs.

They deserved a good night’s rest, too.

Still, Noishe kept his ears up as he settled on the hay, remembering the hurried footsteps from the stranger. Maybe, at the very least, the early evening could have some calmness before the storm.

[sanders-sides-fic]

There are no nice deathworlders! (Right?) [Chapter 6]

AU-masterpost: here

A heavy storm had trapped Roman, Patton and Virgil inside the cave for the next few days. The clouds were so dark that it got hard to tell how many days it were exactly, but Virgil would have guessed about three. And he really regretted not eating diner the day he’d found Patton by now. Although he did find out a little bit more about the duo during this time:

One, Patton loved puns.

Two, Roman was really good at finding new ways to insult him.

Three, the two of them had one more shipmate, a photynêsc called Logan who neither of them had seen any sign of since their crash.

Four, they were travelers who did any kinds of jobs on their way to finance their journey.

Five, their ship was absolutely smashed.

Six, Roman was terrified of the dark.

Seven, both Roman and Patton were even more terrified of fire.

It wasn’t really as though he’d been listening in on their conversations, but everything was silent apart from the rain and thunder, and neither of them were really helping Virgil to stay calm. With every thunder, he half expected a lightning to make the cave collapse and with every bit of rain he wondered how much longer it would take until the water would flood the cave. So he had to distract himself, just as the other two did. And they were the only thing he could focus his attention on, really.

Another thing he did during the time he waited for the weather to calm down, was mentally preparing himself for talking to them. It didn’t have to be a full conversation just yet, but he did need to talk to them eventually. Even if it was just to tell them not to attack him once he would cut the vines holding them in their place.

Of cause he had noticed that Roman had tried to cut himself free, but for some reason he’d given up. Virgil didn’t really get why, though. Maybe it was hard to reach with just his tail?

And there was something else he wanted to talk to them about. Ever since Patton had mentioned that their ship was absolutely smashed, he’d been thinking about it. If it was really as bad as he said it was, then they wouldn’t have any way of getting away from this planet on their own. The weather would only get worse and worse from here on out, so their chances of surviving until they were rescued were pretty slim. So he should probably offer them a ride.

He didn’t really want three strangers on board and he was fairly certain that they wouldn’t be any more keen on boarding with a human, either. Still, they needed his help. They needed someone to at least bring them to the next harbor and they needed someone to do so before winter hit. Virgil knew he should be this someone.

But he couldn’t offer his help without talking to them. Abducting them into the cave to help them with their wounds was one thing. It was bad enough already as it was, but still somewhat manageable. After all, they both had been badly injured and treating their wounds was possible without telling them what he was doing. Bringing them onto his ship and leaving them there until they reached a place they could safely get off again? Now, that was a whole other story. No way that’d work without communication.

And their neither understood human non-verbal communication nor ASL, so common it was.

A low sigh escaped his lips. Talking to someone he didn’t know was hard enough in itself. Talking to someone who he knew hated him? Yeah, no. Didn’t really matter how many times he would practice the words in his head or mouth them out. As frustrating as it was, his mind just wouldn’t let him do that. Not without at least some bond of trust.

Maybe, he thought, he would be better off trying to just talk to Patton. At least the sylemn had defended him from Roman’s worse insults, and he seemed to understand that Virgil was trying to help. He wondered whether that had something to do with the sylemns’ ability to tell intentions? Though he thought Janus had said that they could only do that with words, spoken language. So nothing Virgil had conveyed. Though he could imagine that their general intuition had grown better because of it. So maybe Patton knew intuitively?

Or maybe he was simply not as dense as Roman.

Virgil shook his head. It was no use. Roman was as protective of the smaller alien as they came, and with that hero-complex every creathen had… Well, there was no way Roman would ever let Virgil get even remotely close to Patton. And he wasn’t sleeping that well. Roman actually woke up all the time if Virgil wasn’t careful, was even the tiniest bit too loud. The creath had grown a lot more anxious about his presence ever since he though Patton to be in danger as well.

“Huh?”, a familiar yet strange voice sounded in the silence suddenly. Was that Roman? It sounded higher, more throaty. Virgil looked over to find the creath wide awake, but looking very different from before.

The scales were as green as poison in a Disney movie, his skin was no longer marbled but looked almost like obsidian instead and his horns and nails were silver. His eyes looked around the cave as though he’d never seen it before and there was a huge, deep scar running down from the left side of his nose and crossing his upper lip shortly before the right corner of his mouth. If Vigil didn’t know any better and if the vine wasn’t still binding him to the other side of the wall, Virgil would have thought that it was an entirely different creathen. However, since it could only be the same body this had to be the other creath living in there, Remus.

“Ouch. What happed, Ro-Ro?”, the creath muttered under his breath as he continued to look around. And then their eyes met, Virgil’s startled brown eyes on Remus’ curious black ones. Differently from Roman, Remus didn’t look unpleased with that discovery, though. On the opposite, actually, his face lit up. “Oh~ You are a deathworlder, aren’t you? How fun! I always wanted to meet one.”, he greeted.

Okay, that was not what Virgil had been expecting. He could almost hear Roman cursing at his brother inside their head. Virgil let out an amused breath at that thought. To his surprise, Remus looked at him with even more interest and even tried to get over to him, before he noticed he had been shackled. “Oh, did you do that knot? It’s so strange and… tight.”, he chuckled happily, trying to cut it through as Roman had done in secret.

Remus really didn’t fear him much, did he? He smiled. It felt better than he’d like to admit not to be talked to - or talked about, he supposed - like a monster for once.

Remus didn’t do much to the vines either. He just sighed. “That won’t come undone easily. Too bad, I would have loved to come over there and have a better look at you. I’ve always wanted to see a deathworlder up close…”

Was that a trick? Surely it must be. What alien would want to be close to someone everyone always said would kill them once they got close enough? But Remus didn’t really seem to be bothered by him or the situation. He actually seemed happy. Maybe he was just a good actor?

Virgil decided he should play into Remus’ trap for now. He knew that the wilder creath was usually the stronger one, so maybe Remus could actually free himself and Roman and then Virgil would be screwed. Better he knew what he had to deal with, right?

And he couldn’t deny that he was pretty interested in the creath’s strange behavior as well.

So he stood up, took a pice of wood as a torch with him and put it a safe distance away from the alien before sitting down in front of Remus. Roman would’ve never watched as silently as Remus did. Roman surely would have threatened and cursed him out. But Remus only looked fascinated.

“Oh, I see~ Hehe, so you can understand me?”, he laughed. With a soft, toothless smile, Virgil nodded. This was going better than he’d expected, actually.

“What does that mean?” Ah, right. Human signs and aliens, that didn’t work. But while Virgil hesitated, Remus laughed again. “You’re so strange. Don’t want to talk?” Then he sobered up. “But can you at least tell me what’s up with my brother? Roman doesn’t answer me…” At that, he almost looked deflated.

Virgil took his hands and put them under his head, signaling sleeping. Maybe if he would act out what he was trying to say that was easier to understand?

“Is he dead?!”

Or not. Virgil shook his head strongly. He pointed at Remus’s head and tried the same movement again.

“Oh, sleeping? Roman is sleeping?”, he tried again, receiving another nod from Virgil.

“But that can’t be. He usually answers. Doesn’t trust me. I wonder why…” Virgil thought he answered the question himself as he took a stone and started to hit the part of the vine he could reach with a random stone. Virgil took that away from him before he could hurt himself. Remus looked at him for a moment, before he nodded. “Okay, you can tie me up if you want to. But only if you let Patton free.”

Ah. So there was the similarity between brothers. Both were protective of their friends.

Virgil sighed. He would love to do that, but he couldn’t know whether Patton would be convinced to hurt him by Roman. Then again, with that leg, he probably couldn’t move that well anyways. Still… Virgil shook his head. He couldn’t do that just yet, only when he was absolutely sure that he could trust them.

Then again… Trust went both ways, right?

With another sigh he glanced at Remus again, before nodding once. Remus watched silently as he went over to the sylemn and opened the knot. He was surprised they hadn’t been able to open it, really. It was the kind of knot you would use on a balloon or on a bag of bread. Then again, he doubted that aliens ever had the problem of knotted headphones, so he could imagine they weren’t as skilled in de-tangling and loosening knots.

After that he went back to his own space. He should probably get some sleep, he supposed. But that wasn’t as easy as he thought. Remus was not only a lot more reckless than Roman, but also a lot louder. The entire night he would monologue about random and mostly disturbing things Virgil didn’t really need to know about space. But he was sure he wouldn’t forget them that soon.

It was only when Remus himself got too tired that he shut up for once. The sun must have been rising already by that time. Virgil shook his head in amusement and bewilderment alike. What a strange creath, he thought as he finally fell asleep.

When Virgil woke up the next morning, Remus was gone and Roman was back again. And Roman didn’t seem to have any memory of last night, judging by his surprise about Patton being free.

Taglist 🖤

@the-ultimate-a @bunny222 @elvis-has-been-dug @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me @gattonero17 @selenechris

[nafeary]

Cheating!MC Headcanon with Leonardo Da Vinci

⚬ Pairing: Leonardo Da Vinci/Reader

⚬ Characters: Leonardo, Comte; mentions of Arthur and Theo

⚬ Warnings: Intoxication

✧✎ A/N: First and foremost, I DO NOT condone infidelity. It’s vile, revolting, and can absolutely destroy a person’s entire life.

I chose to focus on the prospect of cultural differences they could have, especially considering our very casual dating standards nowadays (a lot of people don’t see sex as a very serious thing, do they?). Thus, MC isn’t cheating per se, but someone from the 16th century (aka Leo) might just perceive it as that.

I got the idea from our lovely @teatimemols, and she allowed me to use it for a headcanon. Thank you sweets (and make sure to drink water, everyone)!

You had kissed him... which wasn’t unexpected, considering the hungry glances you’d often exchange with him

You had embraced him, just as he had enbosomed you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he mumbled how absolutely adorable you were.

And you had smiled at him. That smile, acting as the final culprit in the heist to capture his heart

Unaware of the courting standards you were used to, he determined it would be for the best to simply go with the flow

From what he had picked up from both you and Sebastian, women in your time had finally been allowed the rights they were entitled to (feminism they had called it)

He could only assume that his confident cara mia would sort things out

Which might have been a mistake... as he watched you accompany Arthur and Theodorus on their late night bar trips, only to return late at night with obvious signs of intimate activity, the Renaissance man felt his entire demenour shift

Were kisses in your time meaningless, the amalgamation of breaths unimportant to the heart?

Distance grew between the two of you, and his heart yearned in painful pleas; on the other hand, his muscles contracted at the thought of strangers’ hands working themselves under your skirt, unwrapping your layers

The last straw for him was the golden hair he noticed adorning your garments, the familiar scent of musk he knew ‘Comte’ to favour assaulting his nose when he stood close to you

Unbeknownst to him, you had initially thought of your... engagement with the polymath as nothing more than a fling. And yet, you couldn’t help your heart from falling for his charms, but you were reluctant to open your heart to him. After all, you had your own time to return to. Nothing good could result were you to act on your fantasies.

You were aware of him having discovered you multiple times on your late night escapees with Arthur and Theo, deciding to assay the author’s method of forgetting troubles

Aka, indulging in brothels as a distraction from your heart’s desire to be close to the Italian

And one evening, you committed a rather grave mistake— no, you couldn’t call it that under the booze’s influence. You had, after all, enjoyed the illusion the alcohol has painted

After a particularly busy night, you had returned to the manor alone, drunken stupor rendering you almost incapable of proper action

Le Comte, ever the gentleman, discovered your situation and chose to carry you to your room, assisting you with changing your grimy clothes (and closing his eyes when it required, we stan a respectful man)

Just as he was about to leave, you had caught him by surprise as he conceived Leonardo’s name leaving your lips in a tired mumble, pulling his arm rather roughly to crash your mouth atop his own

He had left after wishing the girl bonne nuit (as she had passed out the moment she had kissed him), smiling at the prospect of... supporting a relationship including two of his favourite friends

Alas, le Comte has an idea that might just aid the coping methods his guest had chosen... and his old friend’s worsening mood

“Cara mia,” the deep voice of your dream’s protagonist resonated outside your door the next morning. “Are you awake? ‘Comte’ told me you you were feeling unwell and asked me to bring you breakfast.”

At the mention of le Comte, your brain had to do a double take; you suddenly remembered the events of the previous night. The host of the mansion had found you in a probably more than likely disgusting state— and you had the nerve to kiss him

In your defense, you thought it was Leonardo; but considering the fact that they’ve been hinting at having been lifelong friends, you weren’t confident that you could bare to face any of them ever again

Nonetheless, you invited him inside

After you were done with your breakfast, you gazed at Leonardo dozing away on your carpet, just about to voice your confusion as to why he was still in your room, when he stood up and said, “I should be honest with you. The main reason I came was because ‘Comte’ told me something rather interesting.”

You could only gulp as he came to stand in front of your bed, kicking of his shoes. “You kissed him, in quite the rowdy manner from what he told me.”

You were remembered of you slip up once again, and you could only mutter in defeat, “I was drunk and confused, Leonardo.”

By now, ants were crawling up your legs as he lay down beside you, tickling your ear as he nuzzled it. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You kiss me, yet you indulge in other mans’ arms.” All tranquility strained from the scientist’s orbs, and you could only lift your eyebrows in annoyance. “You make it sound like I cheated on you. Whoever I spent the night with is none of your concern.”

“So you are allowed to be a constant resident of my mind.” He trapped you with his arms, appearing to me ignorant to your growing exasperation. “Don’t you consider that to be—“

Enough was enough

You strongly pushed at his shoulders, rushing to stand up as you glared at him lying on your bed like a goddamn male Venus

“Leonardo. Please listen to me for a moment.” Seeing him nod, you proceeded. “Yes, I did kiss le Comte. Yes, I was spending the night with strangers. And yes, I did kiss you. However, you have absolutely no right to lecture me on these actions. We aren’t together, you didn’t ask me out, and I can kiss whoever I want to.”

You exuded calm anger with your crossed arms and stern gaze, but his utterly confounded face wavered your resolve... he almost looked like he had no inkling as to why you were so upset with him

Well, at least until realisation fell across his expression the way it was wonted to whenever he figured something out.

“I’m sorry, cara mia,” he said, sitting up in a more dignified position, “I was unaware that these are the type of courting standards you have grown up with.”

Courting... standards...

God are you stupid. You hastily replied with an apology from your own side, embarrassment blazing across your cheeks at the prospect of almost forgetting the fact that you were indeed in the 19th century and talking to Leonardo fucking da Vinci, when courting standards were so much more self explanatory and determined by matchmakers

You sat beside him as you elaborated the procedures you were used to, fiddling your thumbs at the scene: a world renowned artist, your... crush, perched on your bed and listening to you discussing 21st Century Dating for Dummies

The hushed breathing of the man was the only thing occupying the room, and you couldn’t help but hyper focus on the disparity of your own erratic puffs

Perhaps, despite your flakiness, you still had this wish, hidden deep within your mind, that you could still have a chance with Leonardo. And— you couldn’t help but sigh as the reality of it crashed upon you

You two were way too different, after all. Different time, different manners, different everything

“I have another question,” the smoky voice of the polymath whispered, the pleasant scent of cigarillos dancing beneath your nostrils, “How you do you conduct this... asking out, cara mia?”

You whirled around to meet his chiseled face, speechless at his inquiry. Surely, he couldn’t still want to? “Well, you... you ask the person whether they’d like to go on a date with you... and then, if the date went well, you could ask if I’d— that person would like to start a relationship with you.”

“I?” He smirked at your blunder, mirth pulling at his cheeks. “If you wanted to ask me out, you could have just done so earlier.”

Heat waltzed across your cheeks as you tried to stay composed, but you only managed to hang your head in defeat.

“Are you free after your chores today? I’d love to show you an invention I’ve been working on.”

Lifting your head ever so slightly, you muttered, aware if he were to deny your question that you wouldn’t lose any more dignity, “It’s a date?”

“It’s a date.” And the most beguiling smile encountered your own

I hope this was kind of what you imagined? They were going to be shorter (and including more characters), but I’ve wanted to explain the situation properly, ya know?

Anyway, have a nice day everyone!