#as soon as vacation gets here ill be own my way to find this fucking book

[mycrowleycalromance]

just watched the second to last episode of the first season do dirk gently and like. omg?

[thetransomen]

Fuck fuck mother mother fuck fuck

i can't right now.

My mom's in and out of the hospital like once a week, and we barely talk. She just lays in bed all day and complains about everything. Like not to be insensitive to those with chronic illnesses, but she's *always* been like this. Even when she was healthy, she just lays in bed all day. Watches TV. And then wonders why *I*'m the one depressed. Why do *I* have so much anxiety.

She fucking screams at me if i open the blinds, bc she wants to walk around half-naked all the time (the bottom half. yeah i don't like it either). She does the absolute bare minimum of household chores, and she doesn't even make an effort to clean things up if she spills. It's like she has absolutely no self-esteem at all and never has. I can't even remember a time when she was really happy. Maybe when I was a kid, going on a vacation. The one vacation I ever remember having with her.

I just don't get her. She works all the time and takes the lowest-paying jobs, doesn't really try to improve herself. Like is this what she really thinks of herself? And how am I, her child supposed to care for her when I can barely care for myself? I have issues with money quite often and wish I made enough to move out. I have no hope of moving anywhere by myself anytime soon.

But now I'm getting desperate, because I can't care for her myself. I think she needs to move in with one of my aunts or grandma where she can actually get 24/7 help (my grandma lives with my uncle who helps her). I feel like I'm failing her, but I also think she got here by herself. She's ignored her own depression and anxiety and projected it all on me. I'd actually be a lot emotionally healthier if I didn't live with her. Especially if she hadn't been the one to "raise" me (i wasn't really raised by anyone. Maybe my grandparents and aunts and uncles. I spent far more time around them than my mom - she was always working. I never got why she never stopped working. Even working 3 jobs at once! I just wanted her to spend time with me. Instead, I spent most of my childhood alone at home. Making things up in my head. Letting my mind wander.... Kind of explains why I focus on writing as a creative pursuit, rather than performing in some way.)

I'm also at a point in my life where I'm starting to consider porn and related activities to make money. Not because I'm desperate. But rather, my libido tends to skyrocket on T, and I need lots of stimulation to get off. And it turns out, people like what I look like. I got 50+ men in my city interested with just one post.

And if I do decide to pursue that, I don't want to be anywhere near my mom when I do. She'd never find me anyway. I don't think she cares at all for porn. I just want to keep her safe and protected and never again have to work so much in her life. Like I want her to retire yesterday. She shouldn't have to work that much. NO ONE should have to work that much. Give her a fucking break. And give me a fucking break. We all need a fucking break.

You know all this would be instantly fixed if we had Unversal Basic Income? Or guaranteed housing? I think about this a lot. My situation would massively improve if that were true.

Now my aunt's trying to shame me to go to the hospital to see her. When she told me to stay home and clean. Because those are my mom's priorities. Doesn't care about herself, as long as the work gets done. Then she sits there in misery and practically enjoys feeling sorry for herself. She's done this her whole life, and it's taken me years to realize this is narcissistic behavior. Because I've noticed it in myself.

When you start to feel sorry for yourself, you actually get a huge ego. *Because* you feel worthless. Narcissistic Personality Disorder means you have extremely low self-esteem. And for me, it only got better when I realized I'm not perfect and never will be. And no one and nothing is. I accepted that I'm the same as anyone else, and I need to trust myself deeply - that's what faith is. That's where my faith in humanity lies - within myself. And with others, when I improve their day just by existing. Making eye contact. Smiling. I know I'm not worthless. I'll never be perfect. And no one else will be.

Because NPD means you feel sorry for yourself, you feel like you're supposed to be perfect. You become more concerned with being right than being kind, and that's your first mistake. Then you start to expect that of others. And well, look at society. It starts a cascading effect. To say that we don't understand depression is a bunch of BS. I mean, sure there are some people for whom it truly is inexplicable, but more often than not, it's because of some ridiculous expectation you're setting for yourself and everyone else. You get this black-and-white thinking (oh hi politics, is that you?) and you start to demonize certain people and things. And generally, you stop thinking of yourself as human, which is why you end up treating people so.

I've already written so much here, but it's safe to say I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Why I feel suffocated in my own home, why I get random bouts of anxiety. It's not coming from within. It's coming from everyone around me.

I really really think mental disorders are more social disorders than anything. But instead of a lack of communication between individuals, it's rather a lack of communication within the self. It's an introspective disorder. Maybe that's what we should re-name "abnormal psych". Because there's really nothing abnormal about it, when we're living in the abnormal society.

[narrators-journal]

The final step

This is it boys! The final part! After this, I have no other fic to post, so I’ll probably return to original work or silence lol. But! I’ll try to post what I can to feed ya’ll content!

cw: descriptions of murder, Hint o’ Hisoka, reader’s pregnant

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi spent a while helping you pack before the butlers he'd requested showed up, than he returned to his home across the street to pack up as well. After all, with you now on the track to marry him, he would no longer need the home. Though, maybe we could keep it, and use it as something of a vacation spot to escape mother's unrelenting nagging. He mused.

While he was shoving his clothes into his bag and mulling over that option, he spoke to said mother, or, more-so half listened to Kikyo squeal and giggle in pure delight at the news of your pregnancy.        "Mother, please refrain from shrieking in my ear," he said when his excitable mother had to stop for breath,         "I'm sorry dear, but this is such good news! Your father and I were hoping this woman would prove to be a good wife, and while I will say it's a little soon for a baby, this is good news nonetheless!" She squealed, making the assassin huff,        "I know, I should've waited until after I'd married her to consummate," Kikyo about blew a raspberry at his words, making him blink,        "Illumi, we don't care if you decide to have sex before you get married. My only concern is that this woman isn't the right one for you." she said, "Your father would prefer that you choose a woman a bit more suited for our line of work, but if she's really as submissive as you described, I'm sure she'll be a fine addition to the family. Oh! And I'm sure your child will be absolutely adorable! I can't wait to put little booties on them, and absolutely dote on them like you no longer let me do-"          "Mother," Illumi said, though his mother knew despite his monotone voice that he was annoyed.          "Well, you don't." she sniffed before changing the subject. "Anyway, when are you bringing her home? I want to meet her already!" she said, going into a bit of a rant over his failure to even show Kikyo a picture of you, but her son was no longer listening. Instead, Illumi's attention was turned to his surroundings, his senses on high alert from the waves of malicious intent he felt so suddenly from the direction of your home.         "Mother, was Hisoka released?" Illumi asked, his mother's voice dying at the palpable tension coming through the phone,         "I believe so? Your grandfather was apparently sick of the creep, so he had him thrown out." she offered a second before Illumi hung up. In a flash, the assassin was across the street at your home, his needles at the ready. As soon as he set foot in the house, the assassin was greeted with the familiar scent of blood hanging in the air like a heavy blanket and a silence that ate at his nerves. Your home was quiet. too quiet. It about drove the assassin insane with the possible reasons behind the lack of life. Of course, the butlers that were tasked with helping you pack your clothes were dead, so that helped to explain the stifling quiet, but the sight of the help mercilessly slaughtered didn't justify the way Illumi's heart raced and a strange feeling gripped at his throat until he felt he couldn't breathe. The only time that feeling seemed to finally leave, only to be replaced with wrath, was when the casually dressed assassin slipped into your bathroom, his needles poised to be thrown, and he was met with the one person he didn't want to see inside of your home.         "Hisoka." he hissed, his dark eyes narrowing and his aura reflecting the heated rage that boiled his blood at the sight of the brightly colored magician, who turned to look at him lazily, frowning as if the soulless man was as equally unwanted as the pink haired man was,         "Before you maul me and get no answers, I didn't hurt your precious (y/n)." He assured, plucking one of his signature playing cards and licking the blood of a butler from it before continuing "I believe she crawled out of the bathroom window. So, I suggest you go get her back before you focus on me. Don't want her to get too far away now, do we?" The magician pouted, knowing damned well Illumi wouldn't bother with him after that news, which meant Illumi wouldn't be fighting him, yet. The assassin did, in fact, leave the magician at your house, going out instead to find you. If the help wasn't so fucking incompetent this would be a lot easier. He thought as he forced his wrathful aura into zetsu while he coldly rushed by the corpses and returned outside to prowl down the chilly streets of town, turning that edgy, strangling, anxiety feeling in his throat into energy to fuel his possessive hunt for his wife, his property. On the bright side of the situation though, you were nothing compared to the dark-haired predator, so he had that to cool his unhinged emotions before running into you. You were a recluse, you likely didn't know your way around town that well, so your trail was pretty obvious. In times of life threatening danger, people, more-so women, usually went to crowded areas after all, and you didn't know of many places that would offer help, so you were likely going to head to your grocery store. Knowing that, Illumi was able to get ahead of you, scooping you up before you could slow from a mad dash fuelled by mortal terror to a speed at which you could avoid slamming into the hunter's chest.        "(y/n)," he growled, shaking you once, firmly, to put a stop to your flailing and squirming, "I am this close to jamming one of my needles into your brain. STOP IT." He ordered, the force of slightly panicked rage in his words making you freeze and stare up in terror at him with your wide (e/c) eyes. For a few seconds you stared at one another, your form squished to his in an inescapable grip while his soulless eyes glared down at you until you finally burst into tears.       "Please! Just let me go!" You plead, your voice quivering with barely restrained sobs, so he took a deep breath and ran his thumb down your already tear-stained cheek,       "Why would I do that? I'm only trying to keep you and our baby safe." he reminded you, but you shook your head vigorously, making bits of your (h/l), (h/c) hair stick to your face,        "You're scaring me! Please let me go, I'm begging you Illumi." you cried, trying to shake his comforting hug off,        "I thought you loved me," he said, not releasing you even when your upset tantrum stuttered to a stop. For a moment, you seemed conflicted, but than closed your eyes and tried to kick him to no avail,         "I...I don't know anymore. You've...become so scary recently, I have to p-put my own well being ahead of any shallow attraction." you sniffled, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He brushed a strand of hair from your (s/c) face as you shook against him          "(y/n), I would never do anything to harm you or our baby unless you force me to. Just behave and act like you did before figuring out you were pregnant, everything will be okay." he assured, making his voice as comforting, soft, and loving as he could manage to try and sooth you. Thankfully, he could see the fear and rebellion in your (e/c) eyes dim, returning to their usual, gorgeously submissive state. After that, you only gave one final attempt at escaping his arms before finally giving up. "Good girl, (y/n). Now, let's go home. My mother is about to implode in her excitement to meet you." After that, Illumi returned to the house he had bought for his bag of clothes, then made a beeline for the Zoldyck estate. On the trip there, the long haired assassin tried to make you happy, providing you food, comfortable places to sleep when need-be, and finding you little gifts related to your hobbies to try and entertain and make you smile. He could tell that you were still uncomfortable with him, but you slowly began to warm back up to him when your human need for companionship demanded it. However, the one thing he couldn't save you from or prepare you for, was Kikyo. The woman about tackled Illumi when he pushed open the testing gates, but as soon as you were through and safely on Zoldyck land with your husband protectively at your side, his mother began her fussing.       "She looks so ill! Illumi, did you make sure she's physically healthy?"       "She's not much to look at, maybe if she tried more make-up and clothes that fit her better?"       "Illumi, where are her things? Did you just snatch her up off of the street while she was pregnant?!" The only thing that saved you and Illumi from his mother's judgements and chiding was a firm look from his father, Silva, who was making a rare appearance to greet you in a much calmer manner.       "To answer your questions, I will get the family doctor to look her over, and her things had to be left. A threat came up and I needed to bring her here before harm befell her, so I will need to buy her new clothes." The dead eyed assassin assured his mother, who obviously had more hen pecking to do, but she refrained under the stern look of her husband. After that, Illumi got you nicely settled in to his bedroom, and while you did put up some more of a fight over staying there, you mostly accepted your role as his wife-to-be and mother of his child rather easily. He knew you were simply acting out from your hormones and the stress of your situation, so he did his best to keep his temper with you.         "It'll be okay (y/n), once you get comfortable here, we'll be happy." Illumi soothed one night after one of your bouts of sobbing and fighting to escape while he sat, cross-legged with you in his lap and his hands rubbing your belly. You weren't showing much yet, but it still pleased him greatly to now have his wife and child safely at home. That's right, he thought, letting a rare smile spread across his usually unreadable face, you're home now, (y/n)...

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I've got a question.

Tw: Single swear, casual ableism(?), inaccessibility, Christmas mention, divorce.

(I think that covers it.)

I live in an apartment right now, with my family. It's entirely too crowded, I'm getting overstimulated regularly, I have no space on my own, I can barely accss my room, the apartment is makeshift accessible, and I have no way of getting alone time short of somehow mustering energy I don't have to hide in the bathroom. I've also been waiting for a Service Dog in years but I can't get a dog right now because I'm not supposed to be here.

I have to run off during inspections and sometimes take stressed, loud cats with me, which overstimulates me heavily and ruins my entire schedule. (I'm autistic.). We can't currently buy a house because my step-dad somehow accidentally didn't fully finish a divorce, so buying one right now would mess up something with assets. Currently we're just waiting on a Court but with no reference for when we can expect that to be.

I've stayed in the same place for three years which is sucky because my brain has gotten used to a quickly moving environment (literally), + we can't adjust anything to make room for anything because we've adjusted to get basically all we can.

I'm stressed, I'm overstimulated, I'm consistently pissed off with the majority of my family, I'm trapped, and the only release is school, which is also a prison. We don't even have room to put up the Christmas Tree this year, which is extremely important to me but would block my access to the hallway - AKA the bathroom and bedroom.

My family is fine. My brothers can be ignorant, overstimulating, etc. sometimes, but never out of malice. My step-dad is consistently ignorant of my limits as a chronically ill mentally disabled person and makes me feel like crap on a semi-regular basis, but my mother usually comforts me and counters his claims. He also seems to prioritize his own wants over my needs a lot, adding to the pain of being here. He's nice, but this stuff pisses me off consistently, leading to overstimulation, trying to talk to him, him enforcing his believes, then loop.

Am I in a traumatizing environment? I realized while venting I felt extremely stressed and trapped, like how we had in previous traumatic situations, this time I just know how to get out and it's the fucking world saying no.

I don't know if I'm stepping on anyone's toes, I'm sorry if I am, but yeah. I wanted to ask. Sorry for the long one.

Hello anon! I appreciate you reaching out. Traumatising environments are largely dependent upon the individual and their support system in cases like this. If your current environment is making for feel anxious, scared, hopeless, unsafe, unloved, uncared for, or other feelings that often come with being traumatised, then I would say yes, and understandably so.

Not having your accessibility needs met, having to vacate the home on a whim, and some of the other things you mentioned can be quite traumatising for some, and the way you describe how you are feeling about it lead me to believe that it is something you are internalising in a traumatic manner.

Please know that your current situation does not have to be anyone's "fault," but that also does not mean it is not harmful or traumatising. It sounds as though your family is in an incredibly tight position, and they are attempting to do their best with what they have. Unfortunately, for reasons beyond their control it seems, their best cannot meet your needs at this moment, and I am truly sorry that you find yourself in this position.

I do hope that this answered your question, and that your family is able to move soon so that you all can have a better quality of life.

~Mod Night.

[hongism]

give and take - k.ys, j.wy, k.hj 18+

pairing; wooyoung x yeosang x hongjoong genre; angst, smut, 18+, the angst isn’t bad i swear it’s temporary wc; 16.8k summary; watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. and sure, yes, yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. warnings; explicit smut, fingering, oral sex: m, dirty talk, praise, lil degradation, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism, explicit smut, multiple orgasms, come sharing, masturbation, handjobs, threesome, sub woo, sub yeo, dom joong, yaknow the works an; happy belated valentine’s day! i hope you all enjoy muahmuah xx also this is grossly unedited im sorry but my internet is gonna go out again at any second and i just wanna post this ;;-;

﹊﹊﹊

It starts, as many things do, with a little bit of jealousy. And honestly, Yeosang could not for the life of him tell you what exactly that jealousy was in the slightest (at least that is what he tries to convince himself on nights where his thoughts all but consume him). He was not the first to notice the sudden dynamic shift between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, and he was positively certain that the others would catch up soon enough. He was the third to detect the shift in their demeanors around each other; Seonghwa obviously being the first since he’s so close with Hongjoong and apparently has to vacate his own bedroom whenever Wooyoung disappears inside. Jongho, the ever-observant and perceptive youngest, was the second to notice, and he is actually the one who prompted Yeosang to take a deeper look into what was going on.

At first, Yeosang thought nothing of it. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been getting closer, moving past those first fumbling awkward moments they had in the beginning and blossoming into a closer relationship. It seemed only natural for the two of them to spend more time together. Then Jongho pulled him aside one day after Wooyoung quite deliberately turned down the opportunity to play games with San and Yunho. 

“What’s going on with Wooyoung-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung?”

Yeosang had blinked dumbly at the younger and made some sort of dumb noise asking why Jongho would be bringing the question to him of all people, then it sunk in that of course he would bring it to Yeosang. Yeosang is both the one who has known Wooyoung the longest — and is subsequently the closest with the younger brunette — as well as Wooyoung’s roommate, so he spends a considerable amount of time with the man.

“He’s not mentioned anything to me?”

Yeosang cursed himself then for sounding so dumb and unsure, but it was the truth in the very least, and Jongho gave a slight shrug before walking away with a shady ‘maybe you should pay closer attention, hyung’ that left Yeosang glaring at the spot where the youngest just stood. 

Pay closer attention to what?

Yeosang didn’t have any idea what exactly he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he just did what he thought he did best, which was observing from the sidelines. One good thing about being quiet by nature was being able to examine conversations and interactions with greater care, as well as listen in on things that perhaps he should not be listening to but sometimes the others are just too loud for him not to overhear.

After Jongho mentions it to him though, Yeosang truly does start picking up on things. How Hongjoong snaps at Wooyoung in practice only to give him a twisting smirk afterward, how Wooyoung side-eyes the leader before dipping into the bathroom on movie nights, and especially how Hongjoong always waits three minutes and forty-five seconds before getting up to head down the hall proclaiming to need ‘sleep’. Yeosang is positive the two are doing something behind everyone’s backs — well everyone except Seonghwa, because the eldest always stares after Hongjoong’s back as the man departs with a look in his eye that Yeosang is incapable of placing. 

The most important thing is that Wooyoung is spending less and less time with Yeosang, and consequently, Hongjoong too is spending less time with Yeosang. And the visual truly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first. He wasn’t bothered or bent out of shape about the increase in their shady encounters or whatever it is they’re up to because he didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary. 

Then Wooyoung asked for a raincheck on their typical Thursday evening ramen stop. Yeosang saw him darting off to the studio moments after, and he didn’t return to their shared room until Hongjoong did. (Yeosang definitely did stay up waiting for either man to return; he didn’t need the confirmation, of course, he could have just assumed, but what’s several hours of lost sleep to him now?)

And after that, Hongjoong canceled one of their producing sessions together saying that he was simply too busy that day to check in on Yeosang’s progress. He had promised to look over his work and listen to his song when they returned to the dorms, but when Yeosang packed his things and left the studio for the day, he saw a very distinctly Wooyoung-shaped figure dipping into Hongjoong’s studio behind him. 

Yeosang thought he wasn’t one to get jealous. He thought he had learned that lesson the painful way when Wooyoung started casting him to the side to spend time with San instead of him, then when Hongjoong and Seonghwa called him out for the behavior, the issue had been resolved and Wooyoung returned to giving him ample amounts of attention. So truly, Yeosang cannot understand why he feels the small stirrings of jealousy in his gut whenever he sees Wooyoung running to Hongjoong. And even worse are the nagging jealousies that come when the leader is the one to seek Wooyoung out. Yeosang cannot for the life of him rectify that one, because why is he jealous of his best friend for simply spending time with Hongjoong?

He cannot admit it out loud, but in the nights where he finds himself staying up late and waiting for Wooyoung to return with Hongjoong, he thinks deeply about those curling tendrils in his gut. 

Yeosang has come to the conclusion that for once in his life, he does not like this because it makes him feel like he is missing out on something. That is a startling realization in and of itself because Yeosang has never been one to care much about those sorts of things — it just isn’t in his character or personality — so at first he denied that possibility and tried to look to other sources. When nothing else could ever make sense in his mind, Yeosang just had to accept that this was a new and growing feeling to work through. And perhaps it has something to do with the other emotions swirling through his gut that he refuses to name.

Which lands him where he is now: outside Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s door with hand raised and ready to knock on the wood. It isn’t Wooyoung and Hongjoong inside though, not at this time of day, but rather Seonghwa, the one who has the most amount of contact with Hongjoong and also the one who vacates the room whenever Wooyoung comes running over. So if anyone is going to be able to cure Yeosang’s illness that is Not Knowing What the Fuck is Going on, it will 100% be Seonghwa. Yeosang dares to bring his knuckles down on the wood and raps against the door several times before he hears Seonghwa make a noise from inside the room. 

“Hey, Woo, he’s not here right — oh, Yeosang!” Seonghwa blinks several times at the man before him as though he cannot believe that it is Yeosang and not his best friend standing in front of the door. “Are you looking for Hongjoong too? I’m afraid he’s still holed up in the studio right now.”

“W-What? No, no, hyung, I was looking for you,” Yeosang says with a quick shake of his head. Seonghwa’s eyes remain wide in surprise as he speaks, but once the words process, the older steps to the side and beckons for Yeosang to enter the room.

“Don’t be a stranger, of course, sit wherever you’d like. I was just reading a bit.”

Yeosang has no earthly idea how long this conversation might take. For all he knows, it could take a whopping two minutes or perhaps thirty minutes that falls into a lecture about jealousy and all that. So he resolves to perch on the edge of Hongjoong’s lower bunk, nudging one of the stray plushies to the side to make room for himself while Seonghwa pulls the chair from the desk to sit across from Yeosang. It already feels like something of an intervention, and Yeosang makes a note to choose his words very carefully to avoid sounding too upset or jealous about the situation. 

“Has Wooyoung mentioned anything to you recently?” He starts, but perhaps that isn’t the best place to start at all, he realizes once the question is already out.

“Is there something he is supposed to have mentioned?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head further to the side. 

“No, like — that’s not what I mean. Has he said anything—” This is the moment of truth for Yeosang. Either Seonghwa picks up on his jealousy in an instant, or he receives a straightforward answer and moves on with his life with at least a bit of understanding. “—anything about why he’s spending so much time with Hongjoong-hyung these days?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa seems genuinely perplexed by the question for a considerable amount of time, eyes darting down to look at a spot on the floor as he mulls over the question. Then, he shakes his head a few times and draws his lips into a tight purse. “Not to me at all, no. Has something happened between you two? Is he not speaking with you? Did you have a falling out? If something happened the—”

“No, no, hyung, please,” Yeosang interjects in a rush. Seonghwa cuts his thoughts short with a small frown, and Yeosang knows he is going to have to offer more of an explanation than that to ease the older’s worries. There is a bit too much shame burning at his gut presently though, a nagging and lingering feeling of embarrassment as he realizes he will inevitably have to admit that he is jealous of all things. And that is going to be another issue because Seonghwa knows him almost better than Wooyoung does, and the older for sure knows that Yeosang is never one to be jealous. 

“It’s okay if the two of you are having issues, Yeosang. It happens to everyone, especially people who have known each other for as long as you and Wooyoung have. I’m not trying to insinuate anything of course, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case.”

God, Yeosang wants to crawl into a tiny hole and die more than anything else right now because fuck this feeling.

“I’m just — I’m only asking because h-he turned San down the other night to spend time with Hongjoong. He has never done that. He and San are th-the closest and they never turn down the opportunity to spend time with each other, and it seems so odd that he would deny San so that he could spend time with‌ Hongjoong instead, and that’s just weird. It’s weird, and he doesn’t talk about it with me, he doesn’t mention it or anything like that, then he goes off and forgoes our plans together to be with Hongjoong too. And that’s fine, yeah, like they should spend time with each other, I don’t mind that part. Just… Hongjoong did it too and rain checked one of our producing lessons because he was apparently too busy with his own work and — and...”

Yeosang’s voice dies in his throat when he finally brings his gaze up to look Seonghwa in the eye, and the expression staring back at him is so raw and understanding that Yeosang cannot physically force any words out at that point. A small smile curls at the edges of Seonghwa’s lips, he huffs out a quiet laugh, and then his chin dips closer to his chest as the laugh overwhelms him. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels positively childish and stupid now that the admission is out there.

“I told them people would start noticing,” Seonghwa mutters more to himself than to Yeosang, but the younger picks up on the comment nonetheless. So he does know what’s going on between them. “Listen, Yeosang, yes, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are spending lots more time together. Yes, they are being a bit inconsiderate when it comes to the other members, but they are… at a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together. I have talked with both of them before about being a bit less persistent and intense, as well as prioritizing other people before themselves. But I am more than happy to talk with them about it again if it would help satiate your hurt feelings a bit?”

At least Seonghwa didn’t call him out on his jealousy. He should be grateful for that much. Why isn’t he grateful for that much? Oh, because of whatever the fuck Seonghwa’s rant is supposed to mean. ‘At a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Seonghwa is still smiling like he knows, and Yeosang is fully aware that Seonghwa does truly know because there is that lingering odd emotion behind his eyes again that Yeosang despises so much.

“I — wait, what?” Yeosang’s brain is running on pure fumes at this point. The confusion has mounted into something immense, and he hardly remembers why he was so upset at this point now because of the bewilderment rushing through his system.

“I can talk with them again if you’d like?” Seonghwa repeats his previous offer, eyes wide as he blinks at Yeosang and awaits an answer.

“No, the — the part about their relationship?”

Seonghwa glances off to the side, and he seems to think over what he’s said before his eyes widen a bit in shock.

“A-Ah! Um, no, don’t — I don’t mean anything crude, of course!” Anything crude? Yeosang’s mind certainly wasn’t going down that path before but now that Seonghwa has mentioned that, it is now. And frankly, that throws him off more than anything else because he never would have assumed that that is what was going on behind those closed doors or anything. He has known Wooyoung swings both ways with little care since well before Wooyoung knew himself, and well, Hongjoong told the whole group that he’s pansexual when they chose him to be the leader because of transparency and honesty or some shit like that but... still. Yeosang would expect something like that to happen between Wooyoung and San but with Hongjoong? He can’t even imagine that — not that he wants to imagine it! He would never do that!

Yeosang’s cheeks flush a deep red when he realizes what Seonghwa means, and the older in turn figures out that Yeosang’s mind was indeed not traveling down that path and he has just caused it to. It’s a disaster, truly, and neither of them seem put together enough to even try to recover the situation. All Seonghwa does is push up from his chair and move towards the door. Yeosang doesn’t have time to wonder what the hell he’s doing or if he’s preparing to kick Yeosang out because when Seonghwa opens the door, it’s Wooyoung who stumbles in with a huff.

“Hyung,” he whines through a pout, not even taking notice of Yeosang’s presence on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He sent me back here and said to wait another hour for him to come home. A whole hour!”

Seonghwa bears a strained smile, and he must look over in Yeosang’s direction because only then does Wooyoung shift and take note of the other presence in the room.

“Oh shit, were you guys — do I need to leave?”

“No, Woo, we were just having a chat,” Seonghwa insists, waving the younger man in. Wooyoung regards his best friend with a wary stare that has Yeosang’s stomach turning in knots several times before he swallows the feeling down. “Um, but since you’re here, this is the perfect opportunity to chat! Between the two of you!‌ So why don’t I step out and—”

“No, hyung, it’s okay.” Yeosang is the one to utter the words, and he does so as he pushes to his feet and away from Hongjoong’s bed. This is not what he came here to do, and yes, Seonghwa is right: they should talk, Yeosang should be honest about his feelings, but he also knows Wooyoung. He knows Wooyoung will whine and complain about Yeosang being too clingy or pointless jealousy or roll his eyes and unintentionally make Yeosang feel even worse about how he feels because that is just the way the other man is. It’s not from a bad place or a toxic place, merely Wooyoung’s way of handling issues, and inevitably Wooyoung will come crawling back to Yeosang’s bunk and cuddle him for a week straight before even thinking to hang out with another member. But right now, that isn’t what Yeosang wants. Mostly because he does not want to acknowledge his jealousy or the fact that it isn’t solely directed at Hongjoong spending time with Wooyoung. It is also directed at Wooyoung who is taking away from Yeosang’s time with the leader. Yeosang needs to work out those feelings before even thinking to discuss the issue with either man.

Seonghwa fixes him a startled glance, one that flits back to Wooyoung’s form several times, but Yeosang ignores it in favor of walking towards the door and replacing Wooyoung’s spot in the doorway. The oldest doesn’t seem pleased with his avoidance, as evidenced by the way he clamps a hand down hard around Yeosang’s arm before he can fully step out. 

“I don’t want to have to play the parent and mediate between the two of you here,” he hisses more to Yeosang than to Wooyoung, but the youngest of the trio hears the words nonetheless and blinks over at his best friend with a bewildered expression. It’s then that Yeosang knows with full clarity that he is completely and utterly caught. Even if he tries to escape now, Wooyoung will come running after him and demand an explanation. “If he hears it from you then he’ll be more like to pull his act together and realize that I’m being serious.”

“Is something going on?” Wooyoung inquires at last, voice much fainter than it had been before. Yeosang manages to slip one glare in Seonghwa’s direction before he dares to face Wooyoung head-on. 

“I just came to ask hyung why you seem to be spending so much time with Hongjoong these days.”

And Wooyoung has the nerve, he has the audacity, to actually look startled by that statement. Like he cannot believe that someone has caught on and realized how much time he’s spending with the leader, and he cannot believe Yeosang would go to Seonghwa of all people for answers. When Wooyoung shifts to look at the oldest, Yeosang doesn’t miss the way he sends a panicked expression of ‘what the fuck did you say to him’ and that’s when Yeosang’s mind really spirals.

At this point, he just wants to know what the fuck is going on so he can push his mind away from the gutter, but Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks and nervous glances are doing nothing to deter Yeosang from having the thought that perhaps Hongjoong and Wooyoung are spending their time together in a more intimate manner and he really needs to —

“He’s bothered by the fact that you keep shrugging him off for Hongjoong,” Seonghwa states, bringing Yeosang’s rampant thoughts to a screeching halt in an instant. “Which I told you both about before but you insisted th—”

“Hyung, it’s really okay, I just meant it as a harmless question, I’m not — it isn’t a big deal.” 

“Is this about me rain checking you on Thursday?” Wooyoung asks. He points an accusatory finger in Yeosang’s direction, and the older of the two is certain that he doesn’t mean it in an accusatory way but he feels pinned and cornered by the gesture either way. “Yeo, I’m really sorry about that. I just wasn’t feeling up to going out that day and—”

“But you went to hyung’s studio right after and didn’t come back until Hongjoong-hyung did,” Yeosang counters before he can stop himself. That lingering bitterness returns to his gut as he mentions the memory, along with the subsequent memory of Hongjoong pushing him to the side for time with Wooyoung.

“In the studio?! Are you two out of your minds?!” Seonghwa hisses and reels on Wooyoung, who blinks back like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“It’s — Yeosang is right there, hyung! Can’t you save the lecture for later? Or go chew hyung’s ear off instead of mine? It was his idea!”

“His idea? His idea! Of course it was. Let me guess: he felt bad for pushing me out of the room so much?” Seonghwa scoffs none too quietly. The bigger picture is started to come together, the puzzle pieces are slotting into place, and Yeosang is edging dangerously close to what he believes to be the truth. 

He can’t stand the suffocation that comes in the air a moment later, almost like his own throat is trying to choke him and end him right then and there. So, he does the only logical thing he can think of and slips out of the open bedroom door as Seonghwa snatches Wooyoung’s ear and tugs mercilessly on the cartilage. The content of their argument is no longer important, not with the knowledge Yeosang has gotten so far, and it’s frankly stupid that he is even feeling so… whatever he is feeling right now. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what secrets they were hiding behind closed doors, and all the signs are pointing to one thing Yeosang doesn’t want to imagine.

Yeosang unfortunately doesn’t make it even a foot outside the door before he is running face-first into someone, and judging by the height of the person he nearly just clobbered to the floor, it has to be none other than Hongjoong. Yeosang steadies himself on the other’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling, and he brings a shaky gaze to the person’s features in search of a confirmation.

Sure enough, it’s Hongjoong, alright. Beanie squishing his mop of hair down, thick black-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dainty nose, and a bag slung over his shoulder that must contain his producing equipment. Yeosang says the only thing he can think of, which seems to be a common trend with him today.

“You’re back early.”

Hongjoong regards him with an expression of confusion and bewilderment, then Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong only told Wooyoung that part so he shouldn’t really have that knowledge, but then again, what’s the big deal? Why should it be odd for Wooyoung to tell his best friend something about their leader? Is that a secret for just the two of them to know as well? Or can Seonghwa be included in their little secret circle too?

“Yeah, I — I thought I would be able to focus but I kept getting distracted so I just packed up and came home to work on stuff instead.”

Yeosang dares to ask.

“Can I come by and work with you on some stuff then?”

“A-Ah, maybe in a bit? I’ll text you and let you know. I really need to hunker down on these…” Hongjoong trails off and rubs at the back of his neck. Yeosang doesn’t miss the way the older man glances off towards the door to his and Seonghwa’s bedroom. 

“Yeah, of course, hyung, no worries,” he forces out, adding a tight smile that he hopes will ease Hongjoong’s stress a bit. The older nods as Yeosang steps out of the way, heading into the bedroom without further ado. 

There is no real reason for Yeosang to stick around so he doesn’t; he merely heads for the living room and makes himself at home on the couch, perching on the cushions in a way that gives him a clear view directly down the hall. He has one more lasting curiosity, and he’s determined to get the answer right now rather than waiting god knows how long for the next opportunity. Thus, he waits. Two minutes pass, then ten, along with some slightly raised voices and Yeosang is sure that Seonghwa is chewing them both out in there, but he can’t make out anything of what they’re saying. Then after twenty long minutes, Seonghwa slips out of the room with a huff and a grumble, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his head, and he snaps the door shut behind him. He doesn’t even glance Yeosang’s way as he dips into the kitchen, although that’s probably because he’s covering his eyes with one of his hands and mumbling about always getting a headache because of those two. 

Still, Yeosang waits. Another two minutes meld into ten. Wooyoung still hasn’t left the confines of Hongjoong’s room. It’s odd and peculiar in his mind because Hongjoong insisted that he needed to focus, he needed to work, but Wooyoung has to be — and Yeosang says this as lovingly as possible — the most distracting human being on the face of the planet. 

It is enough to grab Yeosang’s attention by the horns and drive him to push up off the couch. He doesn’t think twice about what he is doing, that twisting and churning in his gut is the only thing on his mind right now, but he doesn’t stop his warpath until he reaches the end of the hallway where Hongjoong’s door sits on the right. A few seconds of precious silence pass, then he leans towards the wood and presses his ear to it. 

For a moment, he feels entirely too foolish because he doesn’t hear a thing other than the quiet clicking and tapping of what must be Hongjoong’s computer. He turns to leave with his chin tucked to his chest in shame at the thought of how certain he was they were doing something… something in there. Then there’s a quiet moan, followed by an airy giggle that can only be Wooyoung, and a sharply hissed ‘stop that’ from Hongjoong.

“But I’m having fun, hyung. Aren’t you having fun?”

“The only thing I’m supposed to be having is you sit still while I work. You promised to be good if I came home early.”

“And you promised to make me see stars with how hard you’d fuck me. That’s not happening right now either, is it? So why don’t we…”

Yeosang’s brain turns to radio noise. Television static. Microwave beeping. All three at once. Or is that an actual microwave beeping? Is Seonghwa cooking something? He has no clue. He can’t see straight either honestly, mind too overwhelmed with what he has just heard, and shaky legs carry him back to his own door before pushing him inside with as much haste as he can muster. 

Fuck me.

Wooyoung said the words with undeniable clarity. Yeosang shakes against the door, hand still clasped tight around the knob as though it will do him any good. 

Fuck. me.

It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeosang should not be bothered. It’s only natural and expected for men of their age to have pent-up sexual frustrations, and of course, they have every right to exercise those urges however they want. Given their orientations, they would slot together perfectly too so why, why, why is Yeosang so bothered right now? It’s shameful the way his jealousy twists further in his gut, and he slides down the door until he’s planted firmly on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest.

He feels so fucking foolish. Thinks back to all the times he and Wooyoung have cuddled and been in close proximity over the years. The way he tried to be daring and bridge the gap between them. The lingering curiosity of blossoming emotions in his chest. The moment he realized where he sat on the spectrum when Wooyoung’s laugh sent such intense feelings of pure love through his chest that Yeosang couldn’t look him in the eye for well over a week after. Hands searching for Wooyoung’s in the dark, clasping tight together, and the fleeting sensation of lips dragging over Yeosang’s knuckles. Breathy laughs exchanged in the dark, soft admissions of love that Yeosang refused to amount to anything more than a friendship but secretly — oh so secretly he wished for more. Wooyoung’s touchy affections that came in the form of sloppy kisses on the cheek and teasing bites to the neck and shoulder. Then came San. Wooyoung stealing away from him. Hands finding San’s instead, hugs and cuddles going to the other man as Yeosang fell further and further away without even trying to pull Wooyoung back. He watched him go without putting up a fight.

What did he do then? The only thing he thought was logical: seek out the member he has the most in common with, the one who seems to understand him better than anyone, one of the view who understands and appreciates his need for quiet moments of peace.

Hongjoong.

Late nights in the studios, backs hunched and aching as they bent over a computer and Hongjoong showed him the steps to his artistic process. Compliments shared in amazement and wonder because Yeosang could not fathom how incredible Kim Hongjoong could be, yet still the older managed to exceed any expectations like it was the easiest thing on earth. The pride that would swell in Yeosang’s chest when Hongjoong congratulated him on a job well done, when he would mention the younger on his lives, the excitement in his hyung’s eyes whenever Yeosang would pop his head into the studio late at night. Hongjoong clasping a hand over Yeosang’s own shaky ones as he practiced for a cover. Whispered praises and reassurances when Yeosang would miss a note or slip up. Slow patience that waited for him without fail. Yeosang hates that he was foolish enough to let those feelings of admiration morph into the desire to be close to Hongjoong all the time, to cling to him, kiss him, have him for himself. 

And he especially hates that he was never able to bury those dwindling emotions of love and affection he felt towards Wooyoung, because now? Now it’s like he is living a nightmare. Watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. And sure, yes, Yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. He wishes he could be heartbroken or something along those lines because that would be a normal reaction. That would be typical and explainable and easier to manage than the sensation in Yeosang’s gut. In that moment, he gets some clarity that it is, in fact, not jealousy of either party. It’s a desire to be involved, a want to be there with them, and a need to be involved. Did he mistake it for jealousy? Every time he saw one running to the other, he thought it was merely envy that twisted his gut, but now… now Yeosang is coming to realize that it wasn’t envy or anything like that. He just wanted to be another piece in their puzzle because those two are the ones he’s closest to (and effectively has all too real feelings for), and it pains him so much that his eyes burn. 

There are tears on his cheeks now surely, but his body has entered an odd state of numbness that he can’t piece together and cannot bother to piece together either. He doesn’t think twice before pushing himself back up to his feet, hands shaky and unstable as he moves for the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes, dead set on taking the bathroom and washing his feelings away in the shower. What Yeosang doesn’t account for, however, is someone being in the hall at the same time he is, and he runs face-first into a chest.

“Yeosang?”

Fuck, and it just has to be Yunho of all people too. The one who probably won’t let Yeosang get by without drawing all his worries out of him and making sure he’s alright. And no, he’s not alright, and he doesn’t really want to be right now, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that. So Yeosang shrugs off the hands that find a home on his arms and tries to step around Yunho to get to the bathroom that is so so close yet so far away because of the wall standing before him.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, leave it alone, Yun,” Yeosang mutters through his teeth. But apparently, he can’t have a moment’s peace because Seonghwa must have heard the litany of questions and gotten concerned as well, his voice coming up behind Yeosang like a cruel shadow.

“Yeosang? Is something wrong?”

Yeosang doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t need to because Seonghwa closes the distance between them and steals a glance around his shoulder nonetheless. Yunho seems to be in the dark still in the very least, but Seonghwa will most certainly be able to figure out the source of his tears.

“Yeo… this — how bad is it? This is why I wanted you two to settle it then and there!”‌ Seonghwa exhales. His brows draw together to form a tight line that pains Yeosang to look at.

“Settle what?” Yunho inquires, blinking between both men, and his grip on Yeosang’s arms finally relents in that moment of shock. Yeosang takes the moment of freedom like a lifeline and pushes past Yunho to dart into the bathroom without further ado. Neither man behind him can catch him before he snaps the door shut in their faces, twisting the lock and trapping himself in the small room.

“Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls through the door, and he brings his fist down on the wood as though it will do any good.

“Maybe we should give him some space, hyung…” Yunho’s voice fades into the static running through Yeosang’s mind, and he no longer processes their conversation as he cranks the handle of the shower to let the water heat up. The pain in his chest also dulls, but only when he lets hot water run over his bare back, forehead pressed to the tiled wall. 

Things are catching up to him now. Reality is seeping in and he is realizing all the things that have been happening behind their backs for the past several weeks. He blames his own imagination for the flashes that come through his mind as he tries to wash the feelings away. Wooyoung pressed under Hongjoong’s weight, fervent touches and lingering kisses. The same hands that held Yeosang’s dragging over the contours of muscles and skin, filling in the gaps that Yeosang wishes he could have filled. Or perhaps Wooyoung would curl himself into Hongjoong’s lap and hold the leader as close as possible as he so dearly loves to do with the others. 

Perhaps it is more intimate and special with the two of them, however, and maybe Hongjoong fucks up into Wooyoung like that, holds him close while he works in the studio, and maybe that’s what they do when Yeosang is turned away. He bets that Hongjoong praises Wooyoung too as he loves to give all the members a litany of praises whenever they do something well, and Yeosang’s desires turns ugly when he thinks of Wooyoung being praised for being good for Hongjoong, nice and pliant and perfect for him, and fuck Yeosang wants to be part of it so badly it hurts. He wants Wooyoung to stand off to the side and watch, wants his own best friend to see him fall apart under Hongjoong’s touch. Wooyoung is such a brat that he probably acts that way in bed as well, and Yeosang feels nearly light-headed as he imagines himself being the one to receive Hongjoong’s attention and subsequently Wooyoung’s as well like he would be some example for Wooyoung to follow on how to be good. 

Yeosang doesn’t feel disgusted by the thoughts but rather the way his own body responds to the images floating through his mind, the way his member reacts to it, and the temptation to reach down and stroke himself to completion is intoxicating. He cranks the water instead so that it’s nearly icy on his skin to keep his mind from wandering too much into the inappropriate territory even though it’s already there.

The cold is barely enough to stave off Yeosang’s churning gut because the sound of that quiet moan and Wooyoung’s delicate giggle are in his ears again even as he steps out of the shower and wipes the droplets away with a towel. It persists even when he leaves the bathroom, darting into the hall to make a break for his room in case anyone was outside waiting for him, but thankfully this time he has the hallway to himself and can make it to his shared room with Wooyoung without much issue. Yeosang only says ‘much’ because just before he opens the door, a noise carries down the hall and to his ears. One that is unmistakable but most likely only audible to someone like Yeosang who is standing in the hallway. 

Another moan. This one is much more high-pitched and strung out than the last, bordering on the territory of a squeal, and based on the all too loud thud that follows, Yeosang can picture what’s going on with too much clarity.

“Hyung!” Yeosang’s heart surges forward in his chest, and he whips around like someone else has spoken the word, but it’s very clearly Wooyoung’s tone. Nonetheless, Yeosang shoves himself into his bedroom and snaps the door shut behind him as quickly as possible, flipping the lock for good measure because his cock is too hard to be ignored now. Part of him wishes he had more willpower to avoid this, and yet he’s too weak in the end. 

Less than five minutes later, Yeosang finds himself curled under the sheets of his bunk, eyes blown wide open and staring at the ceiling above his head as he drags the flat of his hand over his cock. The friction is delectable at best but still not enough to satiate the arousal blooming in his gut. Arousal that only deepens when his mind recreates the images from earlier. This time he’s with them, imagining himself sitting off to the side as Hongjoong works on‌ Wooyoung’s body.

“Sit still and watch me punish him.”

Curse his imagination for being so potent that he can practically hear Hongjoong’s words on his ears.

“Touch yourself for us, Sangie, you know you want to,” Wooyoung would purr, still giggling even though he’s in trouble and about to be punished. 

Yeosang presses his palm down harder against his cock. He won’t last more than two minutes like this; he’ll probably come like a teenager in less than that if he jerks himself with too much haste. So he forms a tight ring around the base of his cock and squeezes just hard enough to stave off the heady sensation in his veins. He debates going down to grab the small bottle of lube from Wooyoung’s end table. That’s too much effort right now, he needs his release soon, and he frankly doesn’t have enough patience in his body at the moment to finger himself open.

“You’ll be good and come when Wooyoung does, won’t you, Sangie?”

He wants to so badly. He knows he would be so good under Hongjoong’s control, he would take anything given to him because he wants that so badly, he wants someone to take the control from his hands and be at their mercy. He wouldn’t fight it or talk back, he would be so good it hurts, and a weak mewl tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. 

Yeosang flings his free hand up to cover his mouth as though someone is going to hear the quiet noises, and when he presses the butt of his hand down again, more whimpers fall out. He can’t stop the noises nor does he try to any longer. The desire for a release is too overwhelming, mixed voices touching his imagination and seeming too real for Yeosang to handle as he ruts helplessly against his palm for that delicious bit of friction. And when he comes, he comes hard and fast, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his hips continue to cant up into his hand. He moans out Hongjoong’s name as he comes and doesn’t stop to think about quieting the noise this time in his fog of pleasure. Come spills over his palm only to be smeared over his skin when he can’t stop the movements of his hips. If he thought that would end the vision in his head, he was quite wrong, because after the haze covering his thoughts disperses a bit, it comes rushing back.

“I thought you said you’d be good for us, Sangie. You came before me.”

“I told you to come with Wooyoung, baby. Why couldn’t you do that simple task?”

“You always say that you’re going to be good for us, Sangie. Yet you can’t even seem to live up to those words.”

The tears that hit Yeosang’s cheeks next are ones that come from pure overstimulation and eustasy. Heat swarms his skin, a pretty pink blush that causes his whole body to flush, and his hips just don’t stop moving even as his mind cries out for a release from the self-inflicted torture.

“Pl-Please, Woo,” Yeosang whimpers to the air above him. “I’ll — I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, p-please.” It is all too much for him to handle right then because the next thing he knows, he is coming yet again, but it’s a painfully dry orgasm since he didn’t give himself any recovery time. He releases a choked sob that breaks into a strangled moan instead, then his hips finally rest and give his poor leaking member a break. The only thing that can leave his lips for several minutes is a series of gasps and pants, chest heaving desperately as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally recovers, Yeosang pulls himself down from the bunk and strips once more now that he’s gotten the fresh set of clothes dirty and soiled. It’s as he is pulling a shirt over his head that the door handle jiggles to no avail.

“Sangie? Did you lock the door?”

Fuck. Wooyoung. He won’t have any knowledge of what Yeosang has just done, or that Yeosang knows what he was just doing himself, but the red hot shame burning in Yeosang’s gut. He just jerked off to the thought of his best friend and his hyung including him in their personal business. Yeosang doesn’t even know if either of them would be okay with such a thing, and yet —

“Yeosang? Are you in there or not?”

“S-Shit,” Yeosang exhales to himself, tugging his shirt the rest of the way and rushing to get to the door. He flips the lock and swings the door wide open to greet Wooyoung with wide eyes and mussed hair. Wooyoung’s hair is damp and clinging to his forehead; he looks fresh out of a shower, and Yeosang has no doubt that he and Hongjoong showered together after their… activities. “Yeah, sorry, S-Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t get the hint that I didn’t wanna talk to him right now.” It’s only a partial lie, enough to cover what Yeosang was actually up to, and Wooyoung seems to buy it by the way he shrugs his shoulders quickly and brushes past Yeosang to get in the room. He doesn’t stay long, however, coming in simply to fetch his phone before darting back out of the room. Yeosang wants to ask where he is going, but at the same time, he can probably guess that it has something to do with San or Hongjoong again.

Yeosang doesn’t stay to watch him go. Instead, he dips back into their shared bedroom and shuts the door, intent to sleep through the rest of the day and push these lingering thoughts out of his mind. It’s only when Wooyoung returns hours later whining to himself about how San never lets him win a game that Yeosang dares to speak. He waits until his friend curls up in bed and gets comfortable, throat lodged with emotion.

“I…”

Wooyoung doesn’t offer even a noise of acknowledgment. Maybe he’s already fallen asleep. Perhaps Yeosang shouldn’t say anything or he should say this for another time, but right now he just wants to see. Test the waters. Gauge his reaction.

“I know about you and Hongjoong-hyung, Woo.” Curse him for stuttering when he did, and curse him for not having the balls to say it outright. How hard should it be for you to say to your best friend “I know you’re fucking our group leader under everyone’s noses”? Saying something cryptic like “I know what you’re doing with hyung” sounded too scary in Yeosang’s mind, but maybe he could have had a better approach. Especially since the bunk under his creaks and the sheets jostle, then a Wooyoung-shaped shadow darts across the room. The door swings open, Wooyoung slips out, then it slams shut, causing way too much noise for the hour.

Yeosang isn’t sure what he was expecting. He knows Wooyoung avoids confrontation. This should have been expected, yet as Yeosang curls onto his side and faces the wall, the tears that slip out his eyes are more painful than before, and he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind that Wooyoung doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the relationship he shares with Hongjoong.

Morning is awkward and stilted. Wooyoung most definitely went to Hongjoong’s room and told him what Yeosang said; Yeosang can see it in the way Hongjoong’s gaze slips between both boys throughout breakfast. He is a bit thankful that Hongjoong doesn’t look towards him with the same amount of fear and shame as Wooyoung did earlier, and there is no disgust or embarrassment in his stare either — only concern. Seonghwa is still worried about Yeosang’s crying in the hallway yesterday, as is Yunho because the dancer got Yeosang coffee and a plate of food, staying by his side all throughout breakfast with a hand placed over Yeosang’s thigh the entire time. The tension is palpable, and there’s no doubt that everyone knows something is wrong in some way.

Seonghwa keeps sending Hongjoong looks across the table, even as San and Yunho try to bring some energy back to the table and dispel the awkwardness. Those glances are probably the thing that prompt the leader to speak. And so, Hongjoong is the one to breach the subject, but he does it in a way that Yeosang could never have expected, and based on the way Seonghwa chokes on his syrupy coffee, the older had no clue this was Hongjoong’s plan either.

“Some of you have noticed that Wooyoung and I are spending a lot more time together these days.” Yeosang dares to look over at his friend, but the man is staring down at the table with cheeks so red and flushed that he’s nearly purple. “It’s because we’re fucking.”

There goes Seonghwa choking on his coffee, Mingi gags around a mouthful of rice, Yunho’s hand squeezes painfully on Yeosang’s thigh, San bites back a laugh and cheeky smile, and Jongho drops his spoon on the edge of the table in shock. Another clatter follows as the same spoon hits the ground, but Jongho doesn’t even move to pick it up and instead stares directly at Hongjoong like the leader like he’s just kicked a dog or something.

“Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Hongjoong’s gaze finds Yeosang immediately. Oh, so the question is targeted at him. Yet even as everyone else at the table denies there being any issue with such a thing, Yeosang can’t bring himself to shake his head or deny it. It’s not that he does have a legitimate issue with it, he merely wishes to slot himself in their space and be part of it. He can’t very well admit that over breakfast with the rest of the group though, especially not with how Wooyoung reacted last night. Hongjoong doesn’t wait for a response.

“Just because we have this relationship now doesn’t mean any of the group dynamics should or have to change. We are by no means exclusive or closed off to just each other. Understood?”

A chorus of affirmations greet Hongjoong, and Yeosang actually joins in this time despite the clench of his heart.

If Hongjoong expected the conversation to fix everything on a whim, then he would be sorely incorrect.

Wooyoung continues to avoid Yeosang. He won’t come into the room at the same time as Yeosang, only comes to sleep if San or Hongjoong kicks him out of their rooms, and is always either sleeping or gone by the time Yeosang gets up. Despite Yeosang constantly looking over at his friend, Wooyoung almost never looks back, and when he does, his expression twinges with something Yeosang would almost call guilt. He tries not to think about that bit too hard or too much.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, actually makes an effort to do things differently. He invites Yeosang to the studio much more often, asks him to accompany him as he picks up food for the rest of the group at least two times a week, and Yeosang finds himself frequenting Hongjoong’s room to work on producing practice a lot more as well.

Yeosang can’t complain because it’s what he wanted and missed so dearly, and he should be content that at least one of his crushes is giving him such devoted attention, but he is loathe to admit that part of his heart is dedicated to Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. That part is shattered in a thousand pieces every time Wooyoung sees him and turns to go in the opposite direction. He doesn’t last longer than a week with Wooyoung’s behavior, and the breaking point is a Saturday evening when Yeosang steps out of his room to see Wooyoung leaving Hongjoong’s with an unreadable expression. Hongjoong steps into the doorway right after, hand chasing Wooyoung’s and catching hold of it before the younger can dip out of his reach.

And now, Yeosang suddenly feels like he’s watching something that he shouldn’t be because Hongjoong places his free hand on Wooyoung’s cheek and leans his forehead against the other man’s, lips moving quickly and quietly as they speak to each other. Wooyoung nods several times before stepping back and turning around. His body tenses a bit as he sees Yeosang standing at the other end of the hall. They regard each other with equally wide eyes and lingering stares for several seconds before Hongjoong prompts Wooyoung to move by slapping the flat of his hand down hard on his ass. Wooyoung releases a startled yelp, cheeks flushing a dark red before he rushes to San and Yunho’s door and enters without even bothering to knock.

Hongjoong finally looks at Yeosang. The younger can’t describe the feeling that swoops through his gut, but Hongjoong is smirking at him and making him feel like that infinite space between their bodies is nonexistent. It’s like the man is standing right before him and cascading warm breath over his lips and neck, then he tilts his head to the side and motions towards his bedroom.

“Did you still wanna get some work done?”

Yeosang responds with a quick nod and dips back into his own room to snatch his phone up off the dresser before fully stepping into the hall to meet Hongjoong by his door.

“No laptop?” The older regards him with a curious stare even as Yeosang shakes his head a bit.

“Just wanna watch you work some, I think. If that’s okay?”

Hongjoong’s lips twist into a gentle smile, and warmth fills his gut.

“Of course, Yeo, come on.”

Yeosang half-expects the room to reek of sex and debauchery, or for the bed to be a wreck, but that’s not the case. Everything is almost too perfect by Hongjoong’s standards, like Seonghwa came through and raided the room before Yeosang stepped in. In fact, he’s almost certain that Hongjoong went the extra mile to change the sheets, but he doesn’t comment on it even as Hongjoong settles down in the bed and pats the empty space next to him. Yeosang climbs up beside him, heart in his throat and threatening to choke him out.

“I think I’ll be able to finish this one either today or tomorrow so I can submit it for the next album,” Hongjoong mutters. Yeosang watches with wide and careful eyes as he tugs his laptop into his lap, pulling the music file up to pick up where he left off. Yeosang is frankly not paying any attention to what’s happening on Hongjoong’s screen. He’s too busy looking at the man’s side profile, the way his brows draw together in concentration. Hoodie drawn over his head with headphones pressed over one ear and the other pressed further back on his hood.

“Hyung…” Yeosang trails off, unsure of how to voice what it is he’s after, and Hongjoong’s lingering stare only makes him more nervous. But then, the older shifts in the bed and presses his back further against his pillows. He lays his laptop to the side, for the time being, throwing his legs out, and Yeosang inhales sharply at the way Hongjoong motions to the space between them. Is he asking Yeosang to —

“Do you wanna lie down?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he think Hongjoong wanted something else when he and Wooyoung have each other for that? Still, Yeosang slips between Hongjoong’s legs and presses his head to the man’s stomach like it’s glass. Once he’s fully situated and comfortable, Hongjoong pulls his laptop back, placing it atop Yeosang’s stomach without missing a beat. The angle is a bit awkward on his neck, but Yeosang doesn’t complain because he gets to be this close to Hongjoong and in his arms like this. It’s practically intoxicating, and Yeosang almost feels light-headed by the time Hongjoong shifts their position to tug Yeosang further up on his chest, letting the younger drop his head into the crook of his shoulder.

Hongjoong doesn’t speak; he merely lets Yeosang rest against him like that with the familiar beat of his track playing faintly through his headset, and Yeosang watches on with less interest than usual as he drags things across the screen and into place. Then, after some unknown amount of time, Hongjoong decides to pipe up.

“When I talked to the group last week about Wooyoung and me, you were the only one not to say you were okay with the arrangement.” He murmurs the words softly, and Yeosang nearly doesn’t pick up on them at all. The moment they process though, he stiffens in Hongjoong’s hold. Although the man isn’t holding him there against his will, Yeosang feels somehow trapped and unable to escape.

“W-Wooyoung — he ran away from me.” Maybe that’s an exaggeration but the man did straight up bolt out of the room when Yeosang brought it up.

“He’s afraid that you hate him.”

That has Yeosang pulling himself forward, knocking Hongjoong’s hands away from where his laptop sits in Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang has enough decency to snap the laptop shut and push it to the foot of the bed before shifting to face Hongjoong. The look in the leader’s eyes is unreadable when they finally look at each other.

“Why would I hate him?”

Hongjoong merely lifts a brow in response. He seems to weigh his next words on his tongue and teases the corner of his lips a few times before deciding to speak.

“Do you not?”

“Of course not,” Yeosang mumbles. “I don’t hate either of you.” He dares to look towards Hongjoong once more, eyes finding the leader’s and searching for any sort of reaction but there isn’t much there. 

“Then why didn’t you come talk to me as well?”

“I figured…” Yeosang doesn’t really have a response for that. He was cowardly more than anything else and afraid of what sort of conversation they might end up having. “I thought you would want the conversation at breakfast to be the last of it.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up for the past week.”

“What?” Yeosang didn’t even have the slightest clue that Hongjoong was wanting to talk about it. Since everything fell back into their usual routine, he simply assumed that meant everything was fine.

“When you told Wooyoung that you knew about us, what were you referring to?”

Yeosang’s cheeks heat up a bit, and he has to drop his gaze to the bed.

“I heard the two of you… I heard — y-yeah.”

“Heard what?” Hongjoong presses again, and this time Yeosang releases an exasperated sigh.

“Christ, hyung, do I need to spell it out? I heard you both moaning a-and it didn’t take much to realize what you were doing!” That pulls a loud laugh from Hongjoong’s lips, and he throws his head back with the sound.

“That’s not what he thought you heard, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says through the laugh. Yeosang swallows hard in response, sitting back a bit more and straightening his back. “He thought you heard what came after that, which is why he’s been so avoidant with you.”

“What came after?” Yeosang echoes, instinctually gripping the sheets in his fists. Hongjoong’s lips stretch a bit further into a smile.  

“He also didn’t hear the noises coming from your room after because he was in the shower.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeosang is so fucked. Hongjoong heard that? What all did he hear? Yeosang remembers moaning Hongjoong’s name a bit too loudly, but he also said Wooyoung’s name, so which did he hear? Or did he hear both? How could he not say anything about it for an entire week?

“But frankly, I didn’t hear it either since I was with Wooyoung in the shower.”

Yeosang can hardly breathe at this point, eyes stuck and fixated on some point on the mattress, and that’s not what Hongjoong wants apparently because a single finger curls under the base of his chin. Hongjoong lifts his head until they can look each other in the eye again.

“Seonghwa told me that you had been crying before taking a shower yourself. Then after you came out, he went to check on you but your door was locked, and… he heard you inside moaning my name.”

“I-I can ex-explain. It’s not — it’s not what it looks like and I—”

“And Wooyoung’s.”

“Hyung, I…” Yeosang is fumbling to figure out what he can say to get himself out of this situation. This is probably the worst thing that can happen right now, and if Hongjoong knows, then Wooyoung most likely knows too and maybe that’s the real reason behind his avoidance these days. Maybe he’s so disgusted by what Yeosang did that he doesn’t want to even look at him again. But the look in his eyes has never been disgust — only some odd mixture between guilt and sadness. 

“I didn’t tell Wooyoung that part honestly. I figured… he wouldn’t take my word for it. So I think it would be better to show him, don’t you?”

“Show him what?” Yeosang exhales. Hongjoong presses forward so far that his breath ghosts over the younger’s lips, and Yeosang chokes on thin air.

“That you want him just as much as he wants you.”

“He… he wants me?” The disbelief is palpable, but Hongjoong is patient as always, releasing a small hum and shifting behind Yeosang to grab hold of his laptop and headphones again. 

“The thing he thought you heard that day — I enjoy riling him up maybe a bit too much, and I kept teasing him with the thought of someone walking in and catching us. The only person he wanted to interrupt was you, and he kept saying your name over and over like a prayer, so loud that he thought you heard him. And thus your reaction… or rather your confrontation scared him and made him think that you were disgusted by it.”

Yeosang feels like he’s been thrust underwater, ears ringing and head clogged with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to make any sense whatsoever. He understands the basic gist of what’s going on in the very least. Hongjoong knows he jerked off to the thought of him and Wooyoung, Wooyoung wants him to some degree, and Hongjoong is pressing closer and closer now that he has slid his laptop off the bed and tucked it under the bunk. And while Yeosang certainly doesn’t want him to stop, there is the nagging thought in the back of his mind that while Hongjoong said that Wooyoung wants him to some degree, Hongjoong never said whether he wants Yeosang in the same way or not.

“B-But what — what about you?” He whispers, too scared to raise his voice any further than that. Hongjoong hums as he leans a bit closer, and Yeosang falls back onto his elbows. “Do y-you want me too?”

“I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Hongjoong says in response. He pauses in his push forward, giving Yeosang precious time to think and breathe easy for a few minutes. “But I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, and I won’t push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Meaning that… if you want this but are uncomfortable with the idea of having an audience, we don’t have to have one.”

Audience? 

When the realization sinks in, Yeosang draws his hands up to cover his face and hide the rampant blush that takes over his cheeks. Hongjoong is quick to respond, hands coming up to join Yeosang’s and gently clasp around his wrists.

“It’s okay, Sangie, baby, you don’t need to hide.”

Baby. Kim Hongjoong is positively trying to kill him on the spot. 

“You’re so pretty, so so pretty especially when you blush like that,” Hongjoong continues. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, coating Yeosang’s ears like honey and dripping down to his gut where the threads of arousal begin to coil. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales in a tone so breathy and whiny that it nearly doesn’t come out at all. 

“I need a firm yes or no on whether you want this before anything else, Yeosang.” Hongjoong begins to pull away, and that is the breaking point for Yeosang’s sanity practically because he lurches forward and snatches Hongjoong by the collar of his hoodie, wrenching him back down to hover mere centimeters over Yeosang’s lips.

“Yes, hyung, the answer is yes, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, please just—” 

Thank god Hongjoong cuts him off or else he would have just kept on babbling for an eternity. Yeosang falls quiet with a startled gasp as Hongjoong plants his lips atop the younger’s, and the arm that holds him up buckles under the sudden weight on his body. The both of them tumble down to the mattress at an awkward angle, Yeosang’s arm trapped behind his back and Hongjoong’s foot tangled in the sheets, but neither of them pay much attention to those issues. The priority seems to be each other’s lips, not that Yeosang is complaining about the way Hongjoong rushes to swipe his tongue over Yeosang’s lower lip. He grants entrance to his mouth with perhaps too much ease. The moment Hongjoong’s tongue breaches his lips and begins to explore his mouth, Yeosang chokes out a wanton moan that reverberates through the older’s mouth and pools heat in his gut. 

It’s only then that Yeosang decides to resituate their position some, and he kicks at the sheets to unravel them from Hongjoong’s feet before pressing up harder against the leader’s body. Hongjoong seems to get the hint and leans back as well, letting Yeosang have a few precious moments of control as he eases Hongjoong back onto the pillows and straddles his hips like this is what he was made to do. Yeosang is already panting and out of breath, cheeks alight with embarrassment still, but he looks an absolute vision in Hongjoong’s eyes with blond hair enveloping his forehead like a halo and lips glistening with spit. He finds a shred of sense left in him to ask one more question before he lets Yeosang dive back in for more.

“Do you want Wooyoung to watch?”

And this admittedly is not a fantasy Yeosang ever pictured or imagined. He figured he would be the one doing the watching, he would sit on the sidelines while the two fawned over each other and fucked, but this? This is something tantalizing indeed, and Yeosang would be damned if he didn’t take this golden opportunity now. Especially with the knowledge that both Hongjoong and Wooyoung have thought about him in the throes of passion.

“Is that what you thought of when you were jerking off, Sangie?” 

Yeosang can only whimper in reply, hands drawing up from where they sit atop Hongjoong’s chest to cover his blazing cheeks again, but Hongjoong is quicker this time. He keeps Yeosang’s hands right where they are by clasping his fingers around the other man’s wrists and watches on with pure admiration as Yeosang writhes a bit atop him.

“Hm? Is it, darling? Does dirty talk make you shy? We don’t have to do that if it makes you too uncomfortable. Give me a safe word as well just in case we need to stop.”

“No! No, no,” Yeosang denies in haste. “I… um, we can u-use red because that’s easy to remember.” Hongjoong offers a hum in approval, and Yeosang has to swallow his nerves before admitting the next bit. “I l-like being embarrassed a bit.”

“Do you, Sangie? Tell me what else you like.” Hongjoong is practically purring the words, and Yeosang thinks it will send him spiraling over the edge. The teasing glint in the older’s eyes is lethal too, turning Yeosang’s insides to mush and his limbs to jello, and he can’t think of anything he wants more right now than for Hongjoong to utterly wreck him on this very bed with Wooyoung watching on. 

“I like — like being good a-and hearing that I’m doing well.” Yeosang slips his hand around Hongjoong’s. He slowly tugs it upwards, guiding the man’s hand to his neck and measuring his reaction the entire time with wary eyes. Hongjoong seems to forget what breathing is for a moment, and when he finally does breathe again, it’s merely a sharp and painful inhale of air because Yeosang is closing Hongjoong’s own fingers around his neck and blinking at him with wide and innocent eyes. “Being choked feels really nice too. And I want Wooyoung to watch… to watch you ruin me.”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around his neck, and Yeosang knows that his words have a visceral effect on the man just by that reaction. He also feels the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants, right against the curve of Yeosang’s ass, and that brings a swell of pride to his chest.

“Do you want to ruin me, hyung?” He asks, batting his lashes for good measure, and fuck, it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it because Hongjoong growls in response and pushes Yeosang down so that he’s flat on the bed once more. 

“Fucking hell, Yeo, how can you be so — holy fuck, you’re so perfect.” Hongjoong maps a path from the tip of Yeosang’s nose down to the collar of his shirt with his lips, leaving a wet trail behind, and once he reaches the space hidden behind Yeosang’s shirt, he uses two fingers to tug the material down just enough to expose more of the milky skin underneath. Yeosang doesn’t have time to ask what he’s doing despite the confusion rushing through him because Hongjoong latches his lips around the spot, teeth nipping at the skin until red blooms under his touch. And god does it feel euphoric to be marked by Kim Hongjoong, to be claimed by him and wanted by him, and Yeosang is certain that all reason will leave his body before Wooyoung even gets involved. 

Hongjoong chooses that opportune moment to pull back. First, he admires the way Yeosang’s chest heaves, the way sweat beads his brow and causes his hair to cling to the skin there, and the way Yeosang already somehow looks so fucked out and beautiful that it’s unimaginable. He weaves his hands down the expanse of Yeosang’s chest to catch hold of the hem. Ever so slowly, Hongjoong tugs upwards, and it’s so painstakingly prolonged that Yeosang loses his patience before the shirt even reaches his sternum. He yanks the fabric from Hongjoong’s grasp and pulls it up over his head on his own, throwing it off to the side haphazardly without even bothering to check where it falls. He knows how to play Hongjoong so well, just what he needs to do to get under the man’s skin, and he does it with such ease that it’s laughable. Because the second Yeosang leans back to the bed and flutters his lashes up at Hongjoong, the leader is hissing through his teeth so loudly that the air comes out in a whistle. 

Then he grips his hoodie but the hem and tugs it over his head, but he leaves the plain undershirt underneath on for the time being as he twists around and catches hold of his phone. Yeosang’s arousal deepens as he watches Hongjoong tap furiously at the screen. Then he has an idea that is probably far too risky but also far too alluring to pass up on.

“H-Hyung, could you…” Yeosang loses the confidence to finish the question, hand stretched midway to Hongjoong’s. Still, Hongjoong pauses and looks directly at him. His dark eyes are glazed with lust and arousal, and they bear such a seriousness to them that Yeosang has to swallow around nothing to get his next words out. “Send him a picture,” he tries again, pushing more willpower in this time. “With your hand around my neck.”

“You’re unreal.” Hongjoong’s tone bears a quake this time, audible proof that Yeosang is having such an effect on the man, and the younger revels in it as he tugs Hongjoong’s hand down to the column of his throat. 

That’s all the incentive Hongjoong needs to bend over the other, and his hand squeezes a little bit around his throat. Yeosang’s cock twitches between his legs, right where his hyung’s crotch rubs atop his, and the sensation is so heady and thrilling that Yeosang dares to rut against Hongjoong again. He pushes his tongue out just a little bit, catches the tip between his teeth, then shows off the somehow innocent for the camera when Hongjoong angles it above his face. 

“For fuck’s sake, Yeo, I’m not gonna be able to wait for Wooyoung to drag his ass in here if you keep that up.” Hongjoong snaps the picture as quick as he can before tossing his phone off to the side in a huff.

“Keep what up?” Yeosang asks before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The pair spend about two seconds staring at each other, Yeosang with a playful gleam to his gaze and Hongjoong with a more looming and dangerous one that has Yeosang’s stomach doing small backflips in anticipation. They’re interrupted by the sharp slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, and that’s followed by a skid and another smack of what sounds like a body on the wall. Another three seconds pass before the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom swings wide open, hitting the wall so hard that Seonghwa yells down the hall about disregard for common decency. 

“Can you at least pretend to be civilized, Wooyoung? You don’t need to act like an animal just because you’re about to get boned! And keep it quiet this time!”

The newcomer comes in a blur of dark hair and tossed garments, and Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the door to be closed completely before he’s stripping down to his underwear.

“I’m here! I’m here, hi, fuck, oh my god, I’m here. Why didn’t you get me sooner, hyung?” Wooyoung hisses as he shuts the door in a rush, flipping the lock before stepping further into the room. 

“I didn’t tell him he’d just be watching,” Hongjoong whispers into the shell of Yeosang’s ear. It draws a blush out of the younger man, one that persists as he and Wooyoung make eye contact. Hongjoong drags the flat of his tongue across Yeosang’s cheek and presses a sweet row of kisses to the same line of skin a moment after. “Why don’t you break the news, darling?” 

“Break the news? The fuck, hyung? Did you invite me just to kick me out?” Wooyoung protests.

“I told you to trust me, you brat,” Hongjoong counters, passing a half-hearted glare towards the younger with a small sigh. “You’re here to watch the show.”

“Well, I’ll do that fucking gladly,” Wooyoung huffs. He makes for the bed, moving to join Hongjoong on top of the mattress, but Hongjoong slings his legs over Yeosang’s body and steps onto the floor to block Wooyoung’s way instead. Yeosang scrambles to push himself up onto his elbows. With wide eyes, he glances between the pair, swallowing around nothing when Wooyoung rakes his eyes over Yeosang’s bare chest leading down to the bulge in his sweats. Hongjoong places a hand over Wooyoung’s chest, and slowly but surely, the leader backs him up until he stumbles back into Seonghwa’s desk chair. “Hyung?”

“I said you get to watch. Not touch.”

“What? Hyung, you can’t seriously—”

“Per Yeosang’s request. Can’t you do it for him, my baby?” 

Wooyoung sucks his lower lip between his teeth and inhales sharply at the small pet name. Yeosang watches on with wide and curious eyes, from the way Hongjoong drags his hands over Wooyoung’s tan skin to the way Wooyoung’s hips tremble in an attempt to stay on the chair.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong hums when the younger doesn’t budge after a few moments. He slips back to the bed, still smiling from ear to ear as he moves, and he greets Yeosang with a wet and sloppy kiss. It’s a mess of teeth and spit, something inherently dirty in the best way possible, and Yeosang can’t hold back the light groan that rumbles through his throat when Hongjoong brings a hand down to palm at his erection. “You still want me to ruin you, darling?”

“Always,” Yeosang exhales against his lips. At that, Hongjoong leaves him with one more chaste kiss then dips lower, not wasting any more time before pulling something out from under his mattress. Yeosang’s body tenses in anticipation at the sight of it, and even more so when Hongjoong curls his fingers around the band of his sweats.

“Be as loud as you wish. Wooyoung is such a sucker for pretty moans,” Hongjoong teases, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hyung!” Wooyoung protests in an instant, and he nearly bolts up from his chair. Hongjoong levels him with a glare though, the power dynamic slipping through and baring itself to Yeosang’s eyes, and it would taste a lie if he said he doesn’t want Hongjoong to dominate him in such a way as well. 

“Today is all about Yeo, but I’ll be kind enough to let you touch yourself too. But you can only come after he does.”

Wooyoung doesn’t voice his protests, but Yeosang can see the disapproval in his eyes. There is no opportunity to dwell on it for long because cold air suddenly hits his crotch and he feels his cock spring loose without warning. He draws his legs together to hide himself, a sudden bashfulness taking over him within seconds. Hongjoong drops his clothing off to the side, and it hits the floor with a soft thud before Hongjoong is back between his legs and easing his knees apart. 

“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Yeosang’s knee. “You’re so beautiful for us—” another kiss, this time higher on the inside of his thigh “—so precious and perfect. Next time I’ll let Wooyoung worship every inch of you, I promise.”

Next time. That insinuation has Yeosang preening, hips canting upwards towards Hongjoong’s body, and the older man stills him with a deftly placed palm on his cock.

“A-Ah, hyung,” Yeosang chokes out. The pressure increases a bit, drawing another louder moan from Yeosang’s lips. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to spread his legs once more, although this time he makes sure to press them wider than before, and Yeosang has never felt more exposed in his life. Hongjoong is still kissing a path up his bare leg when he reaches for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap sends a jolt through his nervous system, cock twitching weakly on the vee of his hip. 

“Hm, are you that excited, baby? You’re doing so well already. Wooyoung always complains about how slow I am when we do this.” Yeosang can do nothing but blink down at where Hongjoong is perched between his legs. Wide eyes meet his and maintain a steady sense of eye contact even as he pours some lube onto his fingers. “Am I going too slow for you, Yeosang?”

“A… a little bit,” Yeosang admits, shifting his elbows on the mattress. 

“But you’re doing so well for us, darling. Being so good and patient, hm? What more could you want?” Hongjoong trails a finger from the head of Yeosang’s erect cock down to the base. Even the slight touch has Yeosang whimpering in need, and he tries to rut his hips up into the older’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll ruin you good and nice, okay?”

“Please,” Yeosang pants. Hongjoong traces down further with his lubed fingers, using his index finger to rub small circles around Yeosang’s hole. With his other hand, he takes hold of Yeosang’s cock, then without warning, he encircles the entirety of his member in the wet heat of his mouth. “Oh m-my god, hyung!” Yeosang throws his head back against the bed. His back arches painfully with the sensation, but Hongjoong doesn’t let up until his nose brushes Yeosang’s crotch. It is vastly impressive but Yeosang is far too engulfed in the feeling of Hongjoong’s mouth around his length to think too much about it. What he does know is that Hongjoong takes him all the way to the back of his throat without gagging in the slightest, and Yeosang wouldn’t call himself small by any means, so if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed, he isn’t sure what could top it.

Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong ravishes his cock, taking in the feeling of the man’s tongue tracing along the underside of his length. Hongjoong certainly sucks dick like it’s his last meal on earth and his only purpose in life. Though the number of blowjobs Yeosang has received are few and far between, he knows this is going to ruin all blowjobs in the future for him unless Wooyoung is the one to give them. Hongjoong keeps circling that index finger around his rim. It’s teasing and prodding, like he’s trying to get Yeosang to cave and beg for it, but Yeosang is too lost in the heat of Hongjoong’s mouth to even think to ask for it. Ironically, it’s Hongjoong who grows impatient as time passes on, and he at last slips one finger past Yeosang’s tight ring and buries the digit two knuckles deep in him.

Yeosang blindly reaches down to grab Hongjoong’s wrist. He desperately tries to push his finger deeper, to prod further and find that elusive spot that feels oh so good, but Hongjoong keeps him from doing so. The leader slips off his cock with a lewd pop, leaving a trail of spit to dangle between his lips and the head of Yeosang’s cock. The effort of having Yeosang so deep for such a long period of time shows on his face: his eyes are a bit puffy and red around the edges, tears glisten in his waterline, and the tip of his nose gleams just a little brighter now. Yeosang could get drunk off the sheer sight of him like this.

“Be patient, darling,” Hongjoong reminds him as he pushes Yeosang’s hand away from his own. “You’re so tight that I wanna spend some extra time prepping you, okay?”

And yes, Yeosang is touched by the gesture in the very least but he’s also quite annoyed because he wants Hongjoong deeper and deeper with each passing second. He only gets part of his wish when Hongjoong descends back on his leaking erection, scooping up the trail of precum and saliva with the flat of his tongue and diving back down on him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Yeosang thinks that having his dick sucked by Kim Hongjoong is a wholly spiritual experience. 

That point is proved further when Hongjoong pushes a second finger into his hole and gently settles it into his heat without moving for several seconds. Then, he twists his digits to the side and begins to fuck those two fingers in and out of Yeosang’s tight ring as slowly as possible. That has Yeosang’s moan devolving into choked mewls and whimpers, and his thighs tremble under the repetitive double stimulation that never stops even for a second.

Hongjoong has a talent at taking people apart it seems because he does it with Yeosang so easily that the younger is already seeing stars without having come a single time yet. Wooyoung is thoroughly enjoying the scene before him with rapt attention, and for once he actually remains rather quiet as he watches on, aside from the occasional moan and groan. The feeling of Wooyoung’s stare firmly planted on his body, from his face down to where Hongjoong’s face meets his crotch, leaves Yeosang feeling even more light-heated. He’s fairly confident that this with either send him spiraling into unknown territory or he will just straight up pass out after coming once. 

There is no time to worry about those minute details in the coming moments: Hongjoong works a third digit into his hole, and when he does, he pulls off Yeosang’s tortured cock with a lopsided grin. 

“Isn’t he so good and pretty for us, Woo baby?” 

“Y-Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung answers quickly. 

“Are you getting close, angel?” Despite Hongjoong’s stare being directed at Yeosang, the latter is vaguely aware that the question is meant for Wooyoung, but still, he nods a few times for good measure. That draws a laugh from Hongjoong’s chest. The noise resonates in Yeosang’s body, leaving him with a steady thrum of pleasure, and Hongjoong speeds up the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of Yeosang’s hole. “You look so heavenly like this, Yeosang. Panting and mewling as I fuck your hole with just my fingers. You’re so desperate for something bigger, aren’t you?”

Yeosang is losing control over his own inhibitions and slipping into a place he rarely goes. 

“Y-Yes, yes, hyung, I’m — want more. Want more, please, give me more,” he babbles back, too lost to think about piecing full sentences together. Hongjoong is quick to pick up on the shift, especially in the way that Yeosang’s body turns to jello in his touch and becomes fully pliant under him. The leader snakes a hand up Yeosang’s side and finds one of Yeosang’s own hands on the bed. He laces their fingers together, clasping tight at the younger’s hand while offering a sweet and gentle smile. 

“Hyung has you, darling,” he murmurs. “I promise.” It’s the reassurance Yeosang needs to let go, and he lets himself rut down on Hongjoong’s fingers. They find a rhythm like that — with Yeosang’s half-hearted and shaky bounces and Hongjoong’s timely thrusts — and each jab to his prostate has Yeosang crying out for more. He wants to hold off, wants to make it last longer, come while Hongjoong is balls deep inside him, but Hongjoong seems determined to draw at least one orgasm out of him before they go any further. 

And that’s exactly what he does.

Less than three minutes later, Yeosang has his free hand wrapped around his shaft as Hongjoong fucks into his hole with three fingers and a sense of reckless abandon. It’s purely euphoric, and the quick jabs to his prostate are what sends him fully over the edge. Come spills over his hand, coating his knuckles and fingers in the sticky white substance, and Yeosang lets the steady jerks of his arm come to a rest. Hongjoong, however, just continues to pump his fingers in and out of Yeosang’s hole, not waiting for the man to recover before he is back to toying with his prostate. 

“Hyung, t-too much, ah — ah, hyung, I can’t!” It is a delicious bit of overstimulation, and one that leaves Yeosang exhausted and panting for air. Hongjoong stops before it begins to hurt thankfully, slipping his fingers out of the younger before mapping a path with his lips up to Yeosang’s neck.

“Are you with me, darling?” He hums into the crook of his neck. Small love bites enunciate the words, and Hongjoong drags his tongue over each little mark he paints on Yeosang’s skin. 

Yeosang honestly feels like he is floating on a different plane of existence. He doesn’t process any of what Hongjoong said, only the touches and cool sensation of air hitting the path of spit Hongjoong left on his chest. It’s concerning enough to make Hongjoong sit back and look Yeosang directly in the eye.

“Yeosang, baby, are you with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hyung. I’m — I’m here, yes,” Yeosang replies this time as Hongjoong pulls him out of the state of delirium.

“What’s our color, doll?” Rather than responding, Yeosang preens at the name Hongjoong calls him, a lopsided smile covering his lips.

“I like that, hyung. Can you — can you call me that again please?”

“I need your color first, Yeo. Is it too much? Do we need to stop?” Hongjoong cradles the younger’s face in his hands, caressing the soft skin of his cheeks and trying to make the younger look him in the eye. Even the smallest touch sends Yeosang spiraling, like he’s swimming through dark water and can’t figure out what’s going on around him.

“I don’t want to stop. I’m… I’m okay,” Yeosang insists through a nod. “I just need a few minutes to recover a bit. ‘m still green, I promise. I’m too — t-touch is too much right now.” Hongjoong nods and retracts his hands from the visual’s face, and Yeosang instantly inhales a deep breath of air like he’s been starving for it all this time. 

“Have you come yet, Woo baby?” Hongjoong shifts his focus over to the other man in the room, and Yeosang follows his stare over to land on where Wooyoung sits. Said man shakes his head quickly, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Can you last a little while longer?”

“Y-Yeah, of course, hyung.” 

That has Hongjoong smirking again, and the leader slips off the bed to stand up straight.

“Good because I’ve changed my mind,” he hums, stepping closer to where Wooyoung sits. He steps around the back of the chair. Yeosang makes brief eye contact with the man as he lays his hands down on Wooyoung’s shoulders, eyes glinting a bit under the fluorescent lights. “Yeosangie is going to ride your pretty little cock, and I…” Hongjoong curls his fingers around Wooyoung’s jaw and shifts the younger to look at him. He pushes two digits past Wooyoung’s lips, pressing down so hard on his tongue that Yeosang can hear the way Wooyoung gags around him. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth just the way you like. Understood?”

Wooyoung mumbles around Hongjoong’s fingers, taking them deeper into his mouth without complaint, and that seems to be answer enough with the way Wooyoung blinks up at his hyung through his lashes.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong praises before pushing his fingers further down Wooyoung’s throat. “Yeosang, darling, take your time. There’s no rush, okay? Woo could sit here with my hand in his mouth for hours and be satisfied.”

Yeosang spends the next several minutes just observing the scene before him. It’s oddly euphoric to simply stare at them in this state, Wooyoung still seated in that chair and Hongjoong standing behind him with an arm curled around the front of his body. Wooyoung seems to be working his tongue over Hongjoong’s fingers based on the dripping trail of saliva that pools at the corners of his lips every few minutes. And Hongjoong was correct: Wooyoung seems perfectly content like that, happily lavishing the older’s fingers as Hongjoong cards his other hand through Wooyoung’s dark hair.

By the time Yeosang finally pulls himself to his feet, his legs are somewhat wobbly and shaky, but he drags himself to where Wooyoung is seated with little issue. While his own cock has softened down to a semi-hard state, Wooyoung is still rock hard and twitching between his legs, hands clasped tight around the arms of the chair. Yeosang drops himself to Wooyoung’s lap without warning, and it startles the man so badly that he bites down hard on Hongjoong’s fingers. Hongjoong takes it without complaint, only letting out a soft hiss and yanking Wooyoung’s hair until the younger moans around his hand.

“Are you feeling alright, doll?” Hongjoong leans over Wooyoung’s head to get in Yeosang’s space. The visual greets him with a quick and daring kiss, then places both hands atop where Wooyoung’s sit on the armrests. 

“Perfect as can be.”

Hongjoong smiles into the kiss. He pulls off too soon for Yeosang’s liking, but Yeosang understands why he does so after a moment because the leader slips his fingers out of Wooyoung’s wet mouth and takes to stripping himself of the rest of his clothes like the rest of them. In the break of touching from Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung finally look at each other — Yeosang with teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, and Wooyoung with eyes glazed in lust.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Wooyoung admits after a second. 

“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Yeosang replies with a smile before taking Wooyoung’s face into his hands. Their lips meet in a shy kiss at first, one that is testing and exploring the waters around them before they let themselves get caught up in the thick air of arousal in the room. Wooyoung shifts his hands to Yeosang’s delicate hips. He presses his thumbs to the pale skin there with enough force to bruise, but the pressure is heady and delicious in Yeosang’s mind. 

Yeosang blindly fumbles around between his legs in search of Wooyoung’s cock, and once he finally has a hold of it, he pushes up on his knees to make space for Wooyoung to slip his cock between the cleft of Yeosang’s ass. They both release a shaky sigh into each other’s mouths, and Yeosang is ready to fully drop his hips on Wooyoung’s cock if not for Hongjoong stopping him at the last second.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling, you need more lube.” Hongjoong disappears behind his back, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to see what he’s doing until he feels something cool hit his backside. His whole body jolts forward against Wooyoung, hands latching onto the younger’s shoulders as the chilly lube slips lower. That feeling thankfully doesn’t last long because Wooyoung presses back into Yeosang’s hole with much more ease this time. Yeosang sinks down onto his heels once more, taking the younger’s cock deeper and deeper until Wooyoung’s thighs are flush with his ass.

He looks up from Wooyoung’s chest, intent on kissing the man under him, but Hongjoong has occupied his mouth in the meantime. And if Yeosang thought seeing Wooyoung with fingers between his lips was a sight to behold, the image of him with a cock filling his mouth is even better. So good in fact that Yeosang goes a little breathless at the sight. Hongjoong has a hand wrapped around the back of Wooyoung’s head, tilting the younger towards his crotch where Wooyoung slurps messily around his member with no shame. Hongjoong coos soft praises down at the man all the while, and it spurs Yeosang to start moving his hips. He desperately wants to hear that praise as well, he wants them to tell him that he’s doing a good job and being so good for them. He is so needy for it that he works his thighs as hard as he can, bringing a pleasant burn to the muscles. 

Yeosang’s erratic movements have Wooyoung releasing a litany of moans around Hongjoong’s cock, hands fumbling to grasp at his hips so he can buck up into Yeosang’s tight heat with little sense of rhythm. There’s no real point in trying to find a rhythm with Wooyoung, Yeosang learns that quickly because every time he tries to build a steady pace, Wooyoung jerks up with a thrust that throws Yeosang off-balance. So, instead, Yeosang just focuses on his small bounces and grinding his hips down when there’s a break in Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung loses his control on Hongjoong’s cock soon as well, and his timed bobs turn into letting his jaw go slack so that Hongjoong can simply thrust into his mouth instead. The sounds in the room are purely erotic, too loud between the wet slaps of skin, Yeosang’s mewls, and Wooyoung’s gagged moans around Hongjoong’s member, but Hongjoong manages to be relatively quiet himself with only a few sporadic moans here and there. 

“Look at you, doll.”

Yeosang cracks an eye open, panting through a whimper when he sees the way Hongjoong is currently staring at him. 

“You’re doing so well for us. Look at him, Woo, look how good he is on top of you like this.” Hongjoong stretches his free hand out towards Yeosang. He reaches for the younger’s face, but Yeosang twists his neck at the last second and catches Hongjoong’s thumb between his teeth instead. He maintains a piercing stare with the leader as he sucks the digit into his mouth, effectively muting his noises. Hongjoong’s hips lose their rhythm, and he freezes with cock halfway down Wooyoung’s throat to just stare at Yeosang in absolute wonder for so long that Yeosang thinks he truly broke the man. Wooyoung slips off Hongjoong’s cock.

“Hyung,” he whines, tone so hoarse that Yeosang would be surprised if he could talk at all tomorrow. 

“S-Shit,” Hongjoong exhales, and it’s the first time that Yeosang has seen the man’s composure break in the slightest since this started. That causes his chest to swell with pride, heady arousal filling his veins, and he squeezes hard around Wooyoung’s cock. It’s all the younger needs to come, apparently, because Wooyoung releases a startled yelp that is so loud that Hongjoong has to rush to muffle him with his cock before someone comes rushing to the door. Yeosang isn’t expecting to come as soon as he does, but he is quick to follow Wooyoung in coming, hot spurts of come painting Wooyoung’s stomach and Yeosang’s hands where they rest atop Wooyoung’s sternum. He can’t stop moving, nor does Wooyoung let him with the grip he maintains on Yeosang’s hips, thus the two of them ride out their orgasms together like that until their bodies give out to the pleasure. 

Yeosang collapses forward, smearing the cum between their bodies further as he drops his head to Wooyoung’s right shoulder. Hongjoong is still working hard to come himself, and Wooyoung returns to his senses enough to assist him. Yeosang can only watch on from where he’s perched. Every muscle in his body aches and burns, but the lingering haze of his orgasms leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“S-Shit, Woo, gonna come on you like this,” Hongjoong warns, fingers tightening around the man’s hair. Wooyoung pulls off his cock and replaces his mouth with a hand. He splays his tongue out before the head of Hongjoong’s dick, somehow managing to giggle as he strokes his hyung to completion. Hongjoong releases onto Wooyoung’s tongue and face, and Wooyoung takes every last drop until he’s milked Hongjoong dry. 

When he finally lets go of the man’s cock, Wooyoung turns back to Yeosang, twisting a hand through his hair and pulling his face up until they’re eye level, then he plants his lips atop Yeosang’s. The come is still there, sticking to his face and tongue, but Yeosang sinks into the kiss without complaint. Wooyoung thrusts his tongue into the visual’s mouth. Hongjoong’s come is salty and warm, so bitter that Yeosang almost chokes on it, but Wooyoung fares much better, although that’s probably because he has a lot more practice swallowing come than Yeosang does. Yeosang takes it as best he can, swallowing every drop that Wooyoung pushes between his lips, and he even goes so far as to clean the come off Wooyoung’s face between soft kisses. 

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales, and he looks up to where Hongjoong stands beside them. Hongjoong seems to guess exactly what he wants with little trouble, bending at the waist to give him a sloppy kiss, and Yeosang hums into the touch. 

“What about me?” Wooyoung whines the moment they detach, and Hongjoong has enough mercy to offer a kiss to him as well.

“I’ll give you more in the shower,” he promises after pecking the younger’s forehead. “I’ll go get the water running. You two come join when you’re ready, yeah?”

Hongjoong leaves the two of them there, still seated in that damn chair with Wooyoung’s softened cock deep in Yeosang’s ass. They don’t move right away, and frankly, Yeosang is more than okay with that because his body feels weightless and unreal at the moment. 

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?” Wooyoung offers through a smile. Yeosang only hums in response and tucks his head further into Wooyoung’s neck.

“I really… Wooyoung, I really like you. More than just sexually,” he admits, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of Wooyoung’s face. “You and Hongjoong both.”

“I like you both too, so I don’t see why that would be an issue.”

“Really?” Yeosang murmurs. And maybe it’s just the afterglow of the sex or the pent-up emotions rolling through Yeosang’s chest, but the corners of his eyes prick with unshed tears and his heart clenches in his chest.

“I thought it was obvious this whole time, yeah. And I know… I know Hongjoong feels the same even if he’s not always good at voicing his feelings all the time.” Yeosang squeezes his arms around Wooyoung’s midsection at that. A soft kiss lands on his forehead, then Wooyoung shifts their weight and tucks his hands under Yeosang’s thighs.

“Are you two dolts coming or not? I’m wasting hot water over here, hurry it the fuck up!”

“He loves us!” Wooyoung laughs into the shell of Yeosang’s ear, carrying him off to join Hongjoong in the bathroom before the leader complains again.

“Yeah, I think he does,” Yeosang murmurs more to himself than to anyone else.

﹎﹎﹎

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iii)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential percy jackson & the olympians spoilers, alcohol consumption, motion sickness and vomiting

series masterpost: here

a/n: this took me a hot sec to finish but here it is! there's a dumb little latin joke in here but that's just because i'm a nerd lmao

Ryan is certainly giving Bette a run for her money in the best friend department.

Magdalene has no intentions of usurping her best friend, but Ryan is quickly becoming the person she talks to most frequently. It started on social media but quickly moved to regular texting, both of them being twenty-five and capable of communicating through more normal channels. The text thread between them isn’t indicative of their newfound friendship – it looks like they’ve been friends since high school. At any given moment at least three conversations are going on, and Magdalene regularly sends him random updates throughout the day. Ryan likes hearing about any interesting artefacts she encounters at work so she keeps mental notes to tell him during their frequent phone calls.

Despite talking to him almost constantly, Magdalene hasn’t seen Ryan since they grabbed lunch at Barn Owl nearly two weeks ago. The lake house trip is a couple days out, and she’s been busy trying to get all her ducks in a row. At work, the current project is coming to an end and Magdalene will be sad to see it go – it’s the first thing she’s been on from start to finish. She’s got a neighbour coming to spend time with Caligula while she’s away so he doesn’t get too upset. Though the days are passing by in a haze as she tries to get ready, Magdalene is excited to get away for a little bit. It’s been a few years since she’s left Denver for more than a night, electing to skip on Bette’s previous vacation invites, and it will be nice to slow down. Life is moving at a comfortable pace, but having some time to pause and breathe will keep Magdalene from feeling too overwhelmed.

Halfway through her last day of work, Magdalene gets a text from Ryan that makes her nearly double over in laughter.

Julius Caesar walks into a bar and says to the bartender “I’ll have a Martinus please!” The bartender replies “Don’t you mean a Martini?” Caesar shakes his head and says “If I wanted double I would have said so.”

It takes her a minute to catch her breath, which piques June’s curiosity. Magdalene recites the joke and her boss rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but does let out a chuckle.

June didn’t think it was funny, but I did. Thank you for making today infinitely better. You riding with us tomorrow?

Magdalene tucks her phone back into her purse, determined to remain focused for the last few hours, and misses the reply telling her that Ryan won’t be riding with Bette, Tyson, and herself, but rather with Cale and his girlfriend to leave enough space for all the gear getting brought. She doesn’t see it until she’s walking across the parking lot to her car and it fills her with a sadness that doesn’t make much sense. He’ll be there for the entire week, so does it matter that he’ll be in a different car for the four hour drive? Magdalene has a sinking suspicion about why she’s upset, but she pushes it down. There’s no space in your life for a relationship right now, she reminds herself as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Caligula is waiting patiently at the door and distracts her thoughts from the handsome man with the kind smile that’s been all she can think about recently.

The cat is incredibly perceptive and knows the regular routine is going to change, making him particularly clingy. He follows Magdalene as she finishes packing, meowing and begging for pets, and she considers bailing on her friends. Caligula has mild separation anxiety and Magdalene doesn’t go away often partly because of it – though another reason is her homebody nature. Only the thought of seeing Ryan keeps her from hanging all her clothes back up.

“Don’t worry little boots,” she coos, “I won’t be gone long. Maria is going to check on you while I’m away, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

It seems ridiculous to speak to her pet as though it’s a child, but Magdalene knows Caligula comprehends what she’s saying. He’s always been smart, and the two of them share a bond that’s hard to explain. She picks him up, puts him in the pocket of her hoodie, and they spend the rest of the night packing and dancing along to the radio.

☼☼☼☼

Bette forgot to mention that the road to the lake house is winding, and Magdalene spends the entire ride with her head between her knees. Motion sickness is something that unfortunately plagues her during journeys longer than a couple of hours and she wishes she would have thought to take anti-nausea medication before leaving the house. Tyson tries to crack a joke about her being a bad passenger, but his girlfriend swats his arm and passes her friend a water bottle with a concerned smile. The two of them speak in hushed tones, almost certainly for Magdalene's benefit, and she does her best not to throw up on the floor of Tyson’s car. After what feels like two decades the vehicle rolls to a stop at the end of a gravel path.

“Mags, we’re here,” Bette says softly, praying that her friend will begin to feel better after stretching her legs and feeling firm ground underneath her.

There’s an unintelligible groan from Magdalene, but she rises out of the car and stumbles into the house. Tyson and Bette insist that she rest and they’ll handle the unloading of the car, so she crawls into one of the empty beds and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow. It’s a dreamless slumber, one fuelled by the pure exhaustion of battling illness while travelling, and when she awakes hours later Magdalene feels oddly refreshed. Her energy level is still relatively low, but she knows that intaking food won’t be an issue.

Padding down the stairs as quiet as possible in an effort to not break the peaceful atmosphere, Magdalene is met with a quiet house. She’s utterly confused – she didn’t sleep long enough to miss dinner and judging by the way the sun is low in the final car full of people should be arriving any minute. For a moment she thinks the group left her in the mountains alone, but then the sound of a trunk closing breaks the silence.

“I fucking told you bro, you should have let me drive!”

Ryan’s voice echoes in Magdalene's ears and her heart skips a beat. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him or how excited she is to see him. Despite everything inside of her saying she should run into his arms Magdalene stays put in the kitchen, running the tap to get a glass of water. She focuses on the mountain on the other end of the lake, framing the setting sun and creating a postcard ready photo. The camera app on her phone is open and angles for the best shot are found. Ryan tumbles through the door a second later, arms filled to the brim with luggage and bags of food.

He drops them the second he sees her, running up behind her and lifting her off the ground. “Mags! Cale almost hit a deer!”

The shock of Ryan’s onslaught of affection catches her off guard, and Magdalene shakes her hand, forcing the picture to turn out as nothing but a blur.

“No hello?” She laughs as Ryan lets her feet touch down on the wooden floor. “It’s the least you could give me after destroying my chance of getting a National Geographic worthy picture.”

He smiles but doesn’t let his hands drop from their perch on her waist. “There’s six more days for you to nail it. I’ll even help if you ask.”

Other bodies enter the house then, causing Magdalene to slink away from Ryan’s touch even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. They’re simply friends, and she doesn’t want Bette to get any ideas. The last thing Magdalene needs on her plate right now is her best friend forcing her to paint a custom denim jacket with Ryan’s number across the back. “I can’t believe you almost hit a deer,” Tyson sighs in disbelief.

“It wasn’t even close,” Cale grumbles, picking up his bags and stomping off to find a place to claim as his own the next couple of days. A petite redhead follows after him, giving a small wave to those in the kitchen before scurrying away. When she asks, Ryan tells Magdalene the girl’s name is Livy, and that she’s Cale’s girlfriend from back home.

Everyone shrugs at his moodiness and disperses. Bette and Tyson stay in the kitchen to make dinner, Ryan goes to claim the final room, and Magdalene slips outside to sit on the patio furniture. The sun has dropped drastically in the past five minutes, causing the air to chill. She wraps her arms tighter around her legs and watches a pair of birds fly over the lake below. It’s so peaceful, a complete one-eighty from the insanity of her life in Denver, and Magdalene thinks about never leaving. She knows it’s impossible, but as she closes her eyes and listens to the quiet laughter of her friends inside the idea seems like a pretty good one.

The sliding door creaks open and Ryan goes through as quietly as possible. He tosses a sweater in Magdalene’s direction as he walks over, plopping down beside her on the small couch.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, slipping the fabric over her head. “I didn’t realize how cold it had actually gotten.”

He smiles in response and shuffles his body a little closer to create extra warmth. Magdalene leans into him, trying to appear casual even though her heart is beating rapidly, and pulls on the strings of the sweater Ryan gave her.

“So, are you excited for this week?”

It’s more awkward than she thought it would be – seeing him in person again, especially since they’ve been texting almost constantly, and the words kind of stick in her throat.

“Honestly? Now that I’m here I am, but I was a little leery about taking time off,” Ryan explains, detailing how he’s trying to improve some aspects of his two-way play and is worried his progress will plateau. Magdalene understands and shares her own worries about taking time off work even if her boss encouraged it.

After catching up quickly and running out of things to say, the pair of them sit in silence watching the sun set until they’re called inside for dinner. It’s nice to just exist, especially with Ryan beside her, and Magdalene feels her heart sink as they separate and he goes to make sure Cale isn’t actually mad at him.

☼☼☼☼

It storms the first two days at the lake house, forcing everyone to stay inside. Tyson complains about how he has less time to drive the boat that came with the property but the others take it in stride. Magdalene spends most of the time reading for pleasure, something she hasn’t been able to do much of the past few years, and Ryan joins her for large chunks of the time. It turns out that he too is an avid reader, and the two of them discuss their favourite novels and series while the other four play board games.

“So you’re telling me you wish Annabeth would have joined the Hunters of Artemis?” Magdalene shrieks in shock, almost knocking the wine out of her glass as her arms flail in disbelief.

“I think it made sense for her to,” Ryan defends.

“But she’s perfect for Percy!”

He sticks to his guns. “I’m not saying she isn’t. I just think that at the time the offer was presented it was the most logical choice. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what would have happened if she did.”

She ducks her head in defeat because she had imagined it, on many occasions in fact. When reading the series for the first time in middle school Magdalene had desperately hoped Annabeth would choose the Hunters over Camp Half-Blood, gaining the family she herself never was privy to. They return to reading quietly beside each other, occasionally knocking elbows when trying to turn a page.

Tuesday brings sunshine and clear skies, which means Tyson is trying to corral everyone into the boat as soon as they’re up. Magdalene tries her hardest to get out of it but her pleas fall on deaf ears.

“You’ll be fine, stop being such a wimp,” Cale jests. She knows that he’s just anxious to soak up some sun, but the words hurt more than Magdalene would have liked them to.

Livy swats her boyfriend across the chest. “Enough! If she doesn’t want to come she doesn’t have to.” The smaller girl sends her a kind smile before speaking low enough that only Magdalene can hear her. “I know your book is just getting good and you look like the kind of person who needs alone time to function properly. Enjoy yourself.”

Seemingly excused from the day’s festivities, Magdalene gives a sheepish wave before climbing the small hill to the house. Ryan meets her halfway and is appalled when he hears of her plans.

“Nope, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me alone to be the ultimate third wheel!”

He has her off the ground and over his shoulder in a millisecond, jogging lightly to catch up with the rest of the group. Magdalene’s laugh bounces off the tree lined shore, and she’s too busy having fun shrieking at Ryan to complain about being forced to spend all day on a boat away from her book. Tyson peels away from the dock before she can regret tagging along, and Bette tugs Magdalene to the bow.

The two girls chat quietly, giggling and sipping on the mimosas they made earlier. Magdalene isn’t a huge day drinker, but Bette makes sure there’s more orange juice than champagne to make her feel less guilty. Livy joins them a while later after becoming sick of the boys and their shenanigans. It’s nice to hang out with a group of girls that aren’t competing for the top spot in a class, Magdalene decides, and she revels in the stories they tell of going to hockey games and babysitting the children of players so they can catch a break. Twinges of jealousy creep up at the wonderful family dynamic the Avalanche seem to have, but she stomachs them. She reminds herself that other people deserve to have support systems and excuses herself from the conversation.

Magdalene slides into the free space beside Ryan, and without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder. It feels so natural that she wonders if it’s how he greets all his friends, but the looks of shock and Tyson and Cale’s faces say otherwise. After a bit more cruising they find a small bay to anchor in for a while. The sun had climbed to the middle of the sky and is unbearably warm, leaving everyone no choice but to jump into the water to cool off. Magdalene does her best to float peacefully a short distance away from the group but is somehow brought into a splashing war because the teams aren’t equal.

Eventually the constant barrage of water chills her to the bone, and Magdalene swims back to the boat. She watches from the sidelines and cheers for her old teammates with a towel wrapped snugly around her. Ryan breaks from the group too, insisting it isn’t fair to have teams on unequal strength. Once dry, he picks up the baseball cap he brought and places it delicately on Magdalene’s head.

“Your cheeks are starting to go pink and I don’t want you to burn,” he explains, passing her a bottle of sunscreen as well.

“Thanks Ry.”

They muse about the idyllic beauty of the scene in front of them until everyone rejoins them. For reasons unbeknownst to Magdalene Tyson is in a rush to get back to the house, which leads to him driving very fast and a little erratically. The contents of her stomach threaten to come up but she holds them down, tightening her grip on the leather seat. A wave crests and Tyson hits it head on, causing the boat to lurch and rock. Magdalene knows it’s going to happen before it does and leans over the side to save a mess from being created. All the alcohol and food she’d consumed throughout the day is no longer in her body, and heat creeps up the back of her neck. She’s embarrassed – what twenty-five year old gets sea sick?

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

She tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace. “I just, uh, get motion sick really easily.” Bette passes her a water bottle and she drinks it quickly, eager to get the taste out of her mouth.

Ryan lets Magdalene curl into his side the rest of the way home, and rubs comforting circles on her back to ease her discomfort, doing his best to ignore the stares from his friends.

☼☼☼☼

The trip comes to an end much more quickly than Magdalene would have liked. Tomorrow morning they’ll pack up and drive back to Denver, returning to their normal hectic schedules. Cale and Livy are heading back to Alberta for the rest of the summer, and Bette and Tyson will be going for a visit as well. She’s heard Ryan mention going home in passing, which most likely means he doesn’t have plans to stay. Magdalene will be all alone in Colorado, but she’s used to it. The only issue being friends with professional athletes is that they leave. She’s been dealing with the loss since Bette and Tyson got together years ago – having them around as her support system most of the year and then them disappearing for a couple of months.

Not wanting to think about how soon she’ll be alone, Magdalene heads outside and starts a campfire. It’s a skill she picked up as a kid and it has come in handy over the years. The newspaper crinkles under the flame from the lighter, and soon the kindling is burning well. Everyone else is still inside, cleaning up from dinner and preparing for one last night in paradise. She places a few blocks of wood in the fire pit once there’s a good enough flame and curls up in a chair, lost in thought about what comes next. There’s rustling from somewhere behind her but she pays it no mind, assuming it’s a small animal wandering through the forest.

“Can I offer you some company?” a voice says softly, waiting for a response. The movement wasn’t a raccoon but in fact Ryan, and Magdalene gestures at the chair beside her with a smile.

He passes her a glass of white wine, which she takes with an appreciative hum. They sit in silence for a moment, admiring the beauty of the setting sun. “I’m going to miss it,” Ryan sighs, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs.

She nods. “Me too. It’s so quiet up here. Denver gets too loud sometimes.”

“Tell me about it. I’m not just going to miss the lake though, it’s also lounging around and not having to worry about hockey. And you.”

The ending comes out rushed, and Magdalene isn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Me?”

Ryan looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, and catch all of my West Wing references. There’s no one who gets me quite like you, even back home.”

It takes her by surprise. They’ve only known each other for a few months, and only really started associating after the party at Bette and Tyson’s. There has to be somebody who knows him better than she does. When she voices her opinion Ryan just scoffs, saying that people treat him as one-dimensional because he plays hockey. Somehow the conversation shifts to Magdalene, and when she lets it slip she gets lonely in Denver without her friends, Ryan asks the question she’s been dreading.

“So why don’t you get a boyfriend?”

“I can’t just get a boyfriend because my friends are gone,” she laughs, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s unsure of where this will go and how to question the follow ups.

He rolls his eyes. “I know that, but like, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to not be alone all the time?”

It would be, Magdalene thinks, but she just shrugs. “I guess I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just finished school and for the first time in a long time I can focus on myself.” She leaves out the part where Ryan gives her butterflies and that if he asked she’d probably jump headfirst into a relationship with him.

The topic is dropped then because Tyson comes out of the house screaming about the night is going to be wild because it’s their last together for a while. Magdalene and Ryan share a look of mild panic, but both of them are itching to have fun with friends so they raise their glasses in salute before finishing them in one gulp.

Magdalene drinks more than she should and wakes in the morning with a killer hangover. It seems that no one else is better off though, all stumbling around looking for Advil and coffee like it’s going to be their last meal. Packing up takes a bit longer than expected, but they’re still out before the official checkout time. There’s a bit of discourse on who Magdalene will travel home with. Bette wants her in Tyson’s car, no doubt to talk about how close her and Ryan seem to be, but Cale offers to bring her with them. His reasoning is that Ryan is driving him and Livy directly to the airport, and having the front seat could be good for her motion sickness. It’s ultimately Magdalene’s choice and the idea of having more time with Ryan before he leaves is too enticing to pass up. She bids her other friends goodbye, promising to come over for dinner before they fly out, and climbs into the cab of Cale’s truck.

Once again she’s a less than ideal passenger, but this time it’s because she sleeps the entire way back to Denver. The drinking took it out of her and coupled with the queasiness in her stomach from the winding roads sleep is the only thing that makes sense. So much for extra time with Ryan she thinks as she wakes up in the airport parking lot.

“Sleeping beauty has risen!” Ryan chuckles, “Why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a sec? We have the parking spot for another fifteen minutes.”

Magdalene does as suggested because truthfully her joints are a little stiff, and finds Cale and Livy grabbing their bags from the back. She hugs them goodbye and wishes them safe travels, which Cale returns with a warning not to get into too much trouble before heading for the entrance. Once both of them are safely inside the confines of the airport, Ryan and Magdalene get back in the vehicle and finish the last leg of the trip.

She directs Ryan to her apartment complex, and he mentions that he’s never been in this area of the city. “That’s because you have no need to be around a bunch of university kids,” she laughs. Once they pull into the parking lot, he offers to help her take up her bag. It’s only a small suitcase Magdalene could definitely handle herself, but she wants him to come up, to prolong her time with him.

Magdalene’s keys jingle in the lock as the door opens. Ryan follows her in and shuts the door carefully, not wanting to disrupt the aura of peace that permeates the space. From what he can tell, the average size apartment is the perfect reflection of Magdalene – packed full of books and plants and feels very put together despite the owner being only twenty-five. After their shoes find a home on the boot rack and the coats they brought for the drive home are hung in the closet she leads Ryan into the living room. There’s a soft purring by his feet, and Ryan looks down to see an animal. He never pegged Magdalene as someone to keep pets.

“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to pet the small white cat.

“That’s Caligula.”

A puzzled look graces Ryan’s features. “Who?”

“Caligula,” Madalene giggles. “You can call him little boots if you’d like. He’ll respond.” She picks up the animal when it comes to her and scratches gently behind its ear.

“Why would you name your cat something dumb like Caligula, and why does it respond to little boots?”

It’s then the woman realizes that not everyone understands the reference. “Caligula was the third emperor of Rome,” she explains, “But his real name was Gaius. He gained the nickname Caligula as a child and it just stuck. It translates to little boots in Latin.”

Ryan is in awe of Magdalene for what feels like the millionth time. Of course someone as smart as her would have a crazy name for a pet and have the knowledge to back it up. He feels his chest tighten with affection but he wills it away. She isn’t looking for anything right now, he reminds himself. Magdalene’s self-professed inability to reciprocate his feelings is frustrating, but Ryan knows he’d wait forever for her.

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: catch some extra content here!

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @ricohenrique @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 (add yourself to the taglist!)

[endlich-allein]

Promo "Rosenrot" (2005), Olivier Riedel and Till Lindemann — Interview by Phil Lageat and Olivier Rouhet, 05-09-2005 (Rock Hard #048)

Rock Hard : [...] At the time of interviewing Till Lindemann (vocals) and Oliver Riedel (bass) - Paul Landers and Christoph Schneider are also present, but answer other stores - several questions are bothering us... because we are worried. We start by taking news of the band, which recently canceled dates in Asia and South America.

Oliver Riedel : Till injured his knee during the concert in Gothenburg (Sweden) during a collision with Flake, hence the cancellation of the Asian dates. Then Flake caught a childhood illness. He is currently confined to a hospital bed with mumps. Not exactly dramatic, but he could only hear with one ear, which was rather annoying. So we had to postpone the South American dates. Nothing serious...

RH : The fact of recording in Berlin, and not abroad, as usual, in a short period of time, has put on the shoulders of the musicians an increased and useless pressure ?

Oliver : Yes, absolutely ! It's the first time we've recorded in Berlin, at home, and I'm not sure, looking back, that it was a good idea. Our families living nearby, we might tend to look at our watches whenever we had a break : What am I doing ? Do I take the opportunity to drop by home ? As a result, we were necessarily less focused and it was almost impossible for us to be there 100%.

Till Lindemann : More pressure ? Yes and no. Usually we like to work in a relaxed and mellow atmosphere, which we did when recording Reise Reise in Spain. In Berlin, it was quite different, because we worked 12 to 14 hours a day. And we did feel time pressures. It was a pretty intense creative process, which is why this album is quite special and out of the ordinary. I wouldn't say I'm proud of this record - it might be a bit too much - but I'm very happy with it nonetheless.

RH : [...] It seems that this extreme fatigue is not just physical. Admittedly, lately, they do a lot of albums and concerts, but we remember the tensions born during the gestation of Mutter. How can we not think, for a moment, that the Rammstein machine did not exhaust the friendship that bound the members of the group, to the point that they feel the occasional need to no longer see each other ? Have they learned to manage their friction in order to get off to a better restart ?

Oliver : It's true, I admit, we are washed out, burnt out. This is the reason why we are considering this prolonged hiatus... During the Mutter era, we did face some personal problems and we had to distance ourselves from each other. Then, we got closer and managed the conflicts that opposed us. Today, the atmosphere within the band is excellent, but we want to take this break to rest physically. In theory, we're looking at a hiatus of almost a year. But, who knows, maybe we'll meet beforehand to rehearse if the urge arises. And it is already planned that we meet to shoot two or three music videos which should illustrate the next singles of the album. To summarize, these three days of promotion, a few videos, and basta ! I love surfing and I am thinking of going around the beaches with my little van, just to see the country. Is it still possible that we go on vacation together ? (smile) No, I don't think so... Two or three of us, yes, but not the others.

RH : But let's stop complaining, and let's go back, along with Till, to his texts, often encrypted and regularly tackling “taboo” subjects (homosexuality in “Mann Gegen Mann”, our primary instincts in “Zerstören”, etc.)

Till : Journalists always want to know what is the deep meaning of my texts. Personally, I find it much more interesting that my words appeal to the imagination of listeners, that they interpret them in their own way. It is for this reason that I don't wish to submit my point of view : it would then be rehashed, no room would be left to the imagination. But back to "Rosenrot" : it is a very old word. "Reise, Reise", which dealt with the life of sailors, was also intended to be a reference to Herman Melville's novel, Moby Dick. Our choruses are always composed of simple words, but very strong, like "Sehnsucht" or "Du Hast". "Rosenrot" is color as a sign. With the Brothers Grimm, it is about a girl : in the song, the latter drops a rose from a cliff and asks her lover to go and get it back so that he can prove his love to her. But the unfortunate falls... and kills himself. Outside of Rammstein, I write collections of poems. It has nothing to do with writing song lyrics. It's not going to sound very serious, but I'm saying it anyway. Writing a poem is actually quite simple : you just have to drink a few good glasses of wine and let your imagination run wild (laughs). Writing the text of a song is much more difficult : your lyrics must stick with precise stanzas, a chorus, a metric that is imposed on you. And a guitarist just has to tell me "wait, I'm going to slip three more notes over here, so you need three more words!" And everything has to be redone... It may be that these three fucking words require me three months of work. Poetry is pure pleasure, the text of a song is real work.

RH : If there is one title that emerges from Rosenrot, it is the excellent "Te Quiro Puta", sung in Spanish. Does Till have a soft spot for South American music ? The answer may surprise :

Till : Not that I like a particular song, it's those popist salsa beats that go straight into the blood, that your body can't resist, that I like. What artists like Joachim Sabena and Manu Chao are doing is fantastic. The others like it less, but recently, in backstages, I was making them listen to Sonora Palacio, classical Chilean music, with trumpets and everything. And gradually, I ended up making them totally addicted... When will a song in French ??? Very soon, I hope ! (laughs)

© Felix Broede & Mat Hennek (2005)

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 27/?

May I? - 27/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

The lights in the bedroom were dim but Data could still see the outline of Faith’s body by the moon shining through the blinds. Her back arched as he thrust into her from behind, his hands holding her hips for leverage. She rocked and moved with him, panting and twisting the bedsheets as she did. They had not done this position before and he found he quite liked the visual. And judging by the noises Faith made, he was sure she enjoyed it as well.

“Oh, Data!” she moaned.

The high pitch in her voice let him know he had found the correct angle. But her body did not shudder so he readjusted by a fraction of a degree. He earned a loud whine for his efforts and felt the way her body jolted in pleasure.

He calculated that at his current rate of speed if he maintained that angle and applied manual stimulation…

She feels so good.

The sudden stray thought interrupted his processes and he immediately froze. He had heard of humans experiencing such random thoughts before but he himself had not been able to replicate it on his own. To experience such a phenomenon himself had taken him by surprise. It was not just the appearance of the thought that struck him but the thought itself.

He had been enjoying himself as much as he can during their sexual acts. The smoothness of Faith’s skin had always intrigued him and the sensation of being inside her was not something he could quantify. And yet, his brain had decided that it felt good.

“Data?” Faith panted, craning her neck to look back at him. “W-Why’d you stop?”

“I had a thought.”

“Now?”

She did not normally get annoyed with him but it was evident by her tone that she was.

Data looked at her, bent before him, her buttocks flush against his lap, and the tantalizing dip of her spine as her top half rested on the soft mattress. Her wild hair was in her eyes and he reached out to push it away from her face as he draped his chest along her back. She whimpered when his breath ghosted across her ear.

“You feel good, Faith.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Wha…what do you mean?”

Data began to move again and though it was not the precise angle from before, Faith still responded to it. She moaned again, louder than before.  

“I am enjoying being inside you,” he went on. “I do not wish to stop anytime soon.”

Faith gasped and Data slid one arm around her chest so he could hold her as close as possible. She wiggled and moaned, rutting along with him as much as she could with the small space she had.

“Stars, Data! When you talk like that while moving like that…” She could not finish her sentence without moaning again.

“By my calculations and judging by our previous experiences, I estimate you can handle at least another two hours of sexual intercourse before requiring rest.”

“Oh god! Please don’t make me wait that long before I can cum.”

“I did not say you had to. In that time, you will experience several orgasms.”

He let her go so he could push himself up again. Minutes later, when her release took hold, she called his name louder than he had heard her done before.

They made love for as long as she could handle until she was a shuddering mess and her slow movements showed she was fatigued. Only then did Data finish, making sure to stay buried in her warmth until the moment of completion ended. It was an impulse that had developed over the course of their relationship, as he noted Faith seemed to enjoy it as much as he did.

Gently, he slipped out of her and laid on the bed, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. She did not move right away, only laid there spread out and panting.

“Faith, are you alright? Was that too long for intercourse?”

“I’m fine, just gimme a second.” Her words were slurred but he could still hear the satisfaction in her tone.

Eventually, she grunted and rolled over so she could face him. “Dear god, Data. That was the most intense lovemaking yet.”

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“And you did too apparently,” she said with a grin. “Did you really feel something or was that your attempt at dirty talk?”

“I was not attempting anything other than making you orgasm.”

“Mission fucking accomplished.”

“Did my talking elicit an arousing response?”

Still grinning, Faith drew closer, reaching down to take Data’s hand. She slid it between her thighs where he could touch the wetness there.

“Definitely.”

“Duly noted.”

He kissed her deeply while his fingers stroked the bundle of nerves that made her quake. She moaned, throwing her leg over his hip to allow for easier access. He had assumed she would need a break but it seemed his calculations were off.

He drew away from the kiss so he could study her expressions as he touched her. As many times as he painted her face, it was never enough. He never felt like he could truly capture what he saw when he looked at her. From the pinch of her eyebrows to the dip of her nose, to the way her bottom teeth dug into her full lip…it was all too beautiful to comprehend.

Data coaxed another orgasm out of her before she rolled into her back with a dreamy sigh.

“If this is what our vacation entails I’m mad I didn’t agree to take shore leave sooner,” she said with a satisfied hum.

Their shore leave had so far consisted of very little activity outside of their small stretch of beach

The first two days, they had taken the time to adjust to their surroundings and see what the hotel had to offer. There were numerous amenities, including a full-service spa, various small restaurants, and other recreational activities. Faith was not interested in most of them, except the spa where she had received a massage which she had described as leaving her boneless.

Other than that, the rest of the time was spent swimming or laying on the beach.

Lovemaking had also been a priority.

Data had noticed that Faith’s sexual appetite had greatly increased throughout their vacation. He concluded that since neither of them was constantly required to split their attention between their various duties, she was taking advantage of their alone time. Data did not nor would he complain. He was fascinated by the change in both of them.  

“I do not require rest and am happy to continue our sexual explorations during the time we have.”

“You’re too good to me.” She kissed him softly before forcing herself to sit up. “Mmmm, why can’t we just stay here forever?”

“I am assuming you do not actually mean forever.”

“I don’t. But it still sounds nice.” She draped herself across his chest, tracing the lines of his abdomen. Her wild hair and hazy eyes made Data stare, once again struck by her beauty.

“It does sound like an enjoyable way to spend our time. Though I do think you will grow mentally restless with nothing to do other than swimming and making love.”

“Probably. But it’s a sexy fantasy to have.”

“On that, I agree.”

They laid there for a time, Faith tracing her fingers across his skin while Data studied her. He was intimately familiar with all of her expressions. The one she wore now seemed hesitant, as though she wanted to say something but had not worked up the courage to do so.

“What is on your mind, Faith?” he asked, allowing one of her curls to wrap around his finger.

She smiled. “You and that positronic brain of yours.” She fell silent for a moment. “I have a present for you.”

This intrigued Data. It was not a special occasion or holiday so he had not anticipated receiving any gift. “I must admit I am curious. Why do you seem so worried?”

“I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”

“Faith, you should know by now that I greatly appreciate anything you give me, regardless of what it is.”

Her smile widened and she leaned in to kiss him before slipping out of bed.

“You did not have to go through the trouble,” he continued as he sat up.

She crossed the room to their belongings. “It wasn’t any trouble. Well, that’s not true. It was a little bit of trouble but I wanted to do it. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.”

She dug around in their bag for a moment before withdrawing something and hiding it behind her back. When she returned to his side, she said, “Close your eyes.”

Data promptly did as she commanded. Faith picked up his hand and placed an object into it. He knew by touch instantly what the chemical makeup of the item was so when he opened his eyes, he was not surprised to see a piece of neatly rolled paper, tied with a red ribbon.

“Thank you,” he said automatically.

Faith chuckled. “Open it, Data.”

Curiously, Data carefully untied the bow before unrolling the small scroll. He was surprised to find his own likeness staring back at him. The image had been carefully drawn in thick pencil, with smaller lines added to shade in and include minute details. While it was not an exact reproduction, it was fairly close.

“Faith? Did you draw this?”

She nodded with a proud smile, shoulders relaxing when she realized he liked it. “I noticed that you don’t paint yourself,” she explained, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I decided to try my hand at drawing, even took a couple of classes. What do you think?”

He had not known she had been taking drawing lessons. With their full schedules, he had not had the time to ask about any recreational activities. He had assumed since she was so tired, she did not have the energy. Now it seemed she had sought some out on her own.

“This is very good,” he said. And he meant it. “Your strokes and lines were done with confidence and precision and your attempt at shading was well-executed.” He felt a wave of affection and smiled at her. “Thank you. I have never received a gift quite like this.”

Faith beamed. “I’m so glad you like it. I know you love art and painting, and while it’s not really my thing I wanted to try. You’ve done so many wonderful paintings of me, I felt I should return the favor.”

“Perhaps we can hang it in our quarters when we return to the ship.”

“I would like that a lot,” she said. “Actually, I was thinking maybe you could do a family portrait of us. Me, you, and Spot.”

At the word “family”, Data tore his eyes away from the drawing. “Do you consider the three of us a family?”

“Well, yes. Don’t you?”

“I do. I appreciate that the sentiment is shared.”

He carefully placed the present on the nightstand as Faith made herself comfortable next to him. Drawing up the blankets, Data pulled her in close and settled against the pillows.

“Faith, may I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“We have been a couple for several months now. When do you believe you will feel comfortable talking about the subject of marriage?”

Her head, which had been resting on his shoulder, snapped back so she could stare at him with wide eyes. “Uhh…what…when…” She struggled to speak. “You…want to marry me?”

“Is that not something you desire?”

“I’ve honestly never really thought about marriage.”

“Oh. I see.”

Faith sat up, placing a comforting hand on his chest. “But that was before!” she said quickly. “Before I met you and before we started our relationship. Marriage was never on my mind because, honestly, I never thought I would feel close enough or comfortable enough with someone to consider it.”

“Has that changed?”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we got married.”

Data placed his hand over hers. “I feel it prudent to let you know that I do intend to propose to you in the future.”

Faith did not do or say anything for thirty full seconds, except rapidly blink. Data gave her a curious look.

“For once, I am having trouble reading your expression,” he said. “Some help into what you are feeling would be appreciated.”

Faith smiled. “It’s one thing to think about marriage, it’s another to talk about it. The same as any other fantasy.”

“Does this change your mind?”

She shook her head, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “No,” she said. “It just makes the fantasy more of a reality, which is scary.”

“In what way?”

Faith sighed and curled up against him again. “In a fantasy, everything goes how you want it to. In reality, there’s a chance of making a mistake.”

“And you feel marrying me would be a mistake?”

“Oh, stars, no! I’d be the luckiest woman in the galaxy if I had a chance to marry you I just…” She struggled to find the words. “I guess, I’m just afraid that you’d eventually think marrying me was a mistake.”

Data was confused. He could not follow her logic. “I do not understand.”

“Data, these periods of anxiety and depression most likely will never go away. Which means I’ll be experiencing them throughout the rest of my life. The thought of you having to deal with that makes me feel so guilty.”

“I do not see it at ‘dealing’ with anything. They are a part of you. You are operating under the assumption that I regard this as a chore. I do not. I am sorry if I made you feel like it is.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Faith assured him, hugging him tighter. “I guess to me sometimes it feels like a chore. And I know in previous relationships I was told it was…”

Hearing these words made Data feel angry. Not the explosive anger he had experienced prior. A more subdued version.

“Whoever made you feel such a way was wrong!” he said, his voice taking on a stern tone. “Loving you is not a chore.”

Faith looked up, brown eyes wide. “Data…”

“Faith, you are a wonderful woman. I am the luckiest sentient being because I get to experience you. All of you. And I do not want to experience another.”

He kissed her forcefully, needing to show her how much he meant what he said. Within seconds he had her on her back beneath him, her hands running up his shoulder blades as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Though he had made love to her for hours, he could do so again. He wanted to do so

The tiny gasp that escaped her lips as he pushed into her was instantly swallowed by his kiss. Data went slowly, taking his time. He knew the speed that Faith liked, how deep she needed him to be to reach orgasm, but he was not thinking about her pleasure at that moment. He only thought of his own growing need.

Data buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her sweat-slick skin. He used to not understand how olfaction connected with sexual intercourse until he became sexually active with Faith. He then understood that it was connected to scene memory. Smelling Faith’s skin at such a close range, during such an intimate moment, brought to the surface memories of their numerous sexual encounters.

It made Data remember how she felt, how she yielded to his touch. How she sounded when he took her in his arms.

When he finally had his fill, his release came naturally. Faith lay sprawled beneath him, her brown eyes shining at him with hazy wonder as she dragged them open.

She reached up, pushing his hair back from his face, thumb stroking his ear as she tucked it back.

“Data,” she breathed in a soft voice. “Did you just…give into impulse?”

“I have given in to impulse before.”

“Not like that.”

He shook his head. “No, not like that. Was it…satisfying?”

“It was wonderful.”

“I did not hurt you did I?”

Faith smiled and shook her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. Although now we definitely need a break because I am sore. Not in a bad way. In a very, very, good way.”

“You should sleep. You must be very weary.”

They settled into comfortable positions and Data turned off the dim lights, plunging the room into darkness. By then the moon was hidden behind clouds. But it was not the total darkness of space around them. Ambient light from outside gave the room shadows and it was not long before Data heard Faith’s breathing become slow and even.

She slept curled in his arms. Data held her for some time. He did not want to activate his sleep program. Rather, he decided to lay there and contemplate. After several hours, he extracted himself from her embrace. Silently, he stepped out onto the porch. The waves were close enough for Data to step down and be standing in the water.

He stared out at the vast ocean, understanding why Faith was drawn to such scenery. It was hard to think of anything else when faced with such an endless view.

In many of the outcomes, he calculated he saw Faith leaving the Enterprise in six-five point two percent of them. Of those scenarios, he joined her eighty-nine percent of the time. That number steadily increased as their time together grew.

It would not be long before it was one-hundred.

Of the scenarios where he did not immediately join her, he calculated he eventually would within a short period of time.

Either way, Faith was a part of his future. It was as he told her when he said he loved her. He could not see a future for him that excluded Faith.

Data stood watching the water until the suns began to rise. He knew Faith would enjoy the view so he went back into the cabin. She was still sound asleep, spread across the bed and tangled in bedsheets. He smiled at the image, having never seen Faith so relaxed.

He crawled back into bed, hovering over her. “Faith?” He drew back her hair away from her ear.

She stirred in her sleep, leaning into his touch. “Hmmm?”

“The suns are rising. It is a remarkable sight.”

She rolled onto her back, yawning. “You’re a remarkable sight.”

“Come see.”

She lazily lifted her arm and Data helped pull her out of bed. With the blanket draped around her shoulders, Faith shuffled outside with him. Together they sat on the top step, watching the sunrise and the tide pull back. Her head rested on his shoulder.

Data knew he would remember this moment. Not just because he remembered everything, but because of the significance. There were several of his memories of Faith which he had categorized by importance. This would certainly be one of them.

“What do you wish to do today?” he asked.

She slipped her arm through his. “Just this.”

Because he could not think of a better way to spend their time, he smiled. “If you wish.”

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #6: lovesick

(sorry i had to insert these gifs. if this isn’t the taehyung you’re imagining for heatwave, you’re unfortunately wrong.)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You fall feverishly ill one morning, and the responsibility of looking after you falls onto Taehyung’s lap. Of course, there wouldn’t be a problem with that at all if the both of you weren’t so confused about your feelings for each other.

Genre: drabble, fluff, crack, little angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: tsundere!y/n being bratty as usual, boyfriend but not ur boyfriend!taehyung who all our hearts belong to, “I love you so much” (I feel like that should be a warning lol), maybe confession who knows

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s been over a month holy shit. But VOILA! Enjoy the calm before the storm and try not to bust a lung from all these feelings running wild. (requested by my bb @taexxxiiaa​.)

.

Taehyung should have known something was wrong with you when you didn’t protests against him slipping into your room last night and crawling beneath your covers.

Usually, you would at least act like you don’t want him there, complain about his invasion with that trademark eye roll of yours, before snuggling back to his warmth, ass conveniently wiggling onto his poorly-hidden boner. His hands would quickly find your hips, one of them creeping under your shirt to cup your breast, lips latched onto the cradle of your neck. And before either of you knew it, he would be inches deep inside you, both still dressed because impatience and neediness gave way, and shedding of clothing isn’t necessary during copulation anyway.

But last night, all you did was hum a pleasant sigh at his arrival, eyes not even opening as you pull his arm tighter around your waist. Taehyung fell asleep beside you within minutes.

You have been feeling slightly under the weather lately, sniffly nose and funky throat. Most do in the harsh winds of January where winter has still yet to defrost into the floral bloom of spring. But when Taehyung had so much as mentioned the possibility of you maybe having a wee bit of a cold, you had been passionately adamant that you - you - are not one of those commonfolk who catches colds from a slight breeze.

“Do I look like a peasant to you?” You had scoffed in utter dismay at his proposition. The audacity! “I don’t get sick this easily, certainly not before you do. My immune system is superior and that’s a fact.”

However, you are soon to be haunted by your own words because what is a fact is that you are currently shivering in bed beside Taehyung despite your immense radiation of heat, skin scalding to touch, groggy even after ample hours of sleep.

Taehyung is a lazy riser, but your state has spurred his eyes to fly open, springing upright and instantly wide awake. The sheets around you are absolutely drenched in your sweat. As you’re still in the foetal position you had fallen asleep in, he carefully turns you on your back, you hardly rousing from such commotion that would usually wake you up. You would look rather peaceful in your slumber if it weren’t for the perspiration coated all over, damp hair matted to your face, and brows occasionally drawing almost as if in pain. When he places his palm against your forehead, he curses. “Fucking shit.”

You have a fever. That’s just grand, isn’t it? You should have listened when he told you to wear more layers but no, apparently fashion matters so much more than your own health. Superior immune system his ass.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your shoulders gently. No response, still shivering in your sleep. “Y/N, wake up.” He prods a little harder this time but, again, to no avail. This isn’t looking good. You’re not even stirring, and he knows you’re much lighter sleeper than he is. Taking your face in his hand, he shakes your face side to side, your heat almost burning his fingers. “Baby, please…”

Nothing.

Cue the panic unleashing in his head.

You have a fucking fever, and you’re unconscious, and you’re shivering like you’re hypothermic, and your forehead feels like a fucking kettle. What the hell is Taehyung supposed to do? He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t fucking know. You’ve always been the one to look after him. What does he do now? Should he call the police? Wait no, the ambulance. Yes! The ambulance! This is a medical emergency for sure, it has to be!

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

But wait.

As his thumbs hover over his screen, he realises that he doesn’t know the number for the ambulance. Is it just the same number as the police? Holy fuck, what does he do? Why is he so incompetent, what the fuck?

“Taehug…” At the sound of your voice, soft and nasal from your blocked nose, he spins around to you, heart leaping out his chest in relief. With one eye barely open, you’ve lifted your head as much as you can, clammy hand reaching for his jumper to tug him to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What the fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” Wasting not a second, he dives back to your side, fingers interlocking yours in a motion that’s like second nature to him. Jeez, you’re sweaty. “How are you feeling?”

The pale absence of tint in your lips speaks for itself. Your eyes are still not fully open, or more like they can’t be. You regard Taehyung with a slightly confused expression. “Burning. My head is killing me.” It’s barely even a whisper. Taehyung’s heart aches. It aches more knowing just how much pain you must be in to forget your pride and admit your vulnerability out loud. You never do that. Not even that time you fell over on the ice-skating rink and broke your wrist, yet insisted it had hurt no more than a bruise, even though Taehyung had seen how much you were wincing when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“Ah, okay, fuck. I don’t know what to do, Y/N. What do you need? Water? Ice packs? Ibuprofen? Are you hungry? Do you want some cereal?” Taehyung is duly aware of how much he currently resembles a concerned mother fussing over her sick child, but he doesn’t care. He’ll be mother hen if he has to.

“Shh… Too loud, Taehub…” Laboriously lifting your arm as if it weighs two tonnes, you silence him with a finger to his mouth. And he shuts up immediately. He shouldn’t, given the circumstances, but he savours your touch as your finger slides down his bottom lip when your arm drops. “Water, please.”

And like that, Taehyung is sprinting to the kitchen for a cool glass of water for you, ignoring the cold that slaps at his bare feet. He has never looked after a sick person before, this is all very nerve-wracking and stressful for him. He is so fast that he arrives back to you with only half the contents of the glass still contained, the rest spilled during his hurried journey.

Taehyung finds you sat up, looking a little more awake than half a minute ago but no more alive. Your hair is tangled the way it always is in the morning, and your face is puffy the way fluffy pancakes rise - the same way that makes Taehyung want to kiss you all over and tell you how much he likes pancakes and he likes you. But god bless, you’re just sat there, spaced out, staring off at the sloth drawings of your bed sheets, you poor thing.

Something clenches in Taehyung from how you kind of light up when you notice his approach, eyes twinkling and corners of your mouth turning up ever so subtly.

“Here.” He breathes, now especially weary of his volume so not to disrupt you. You jump at the cold that’s pressed on your lips, and take the glass from him as he perches by the bed next to you. Not that there was much to begin with, but you down the water like you do with vodka shots during happy hour. “Better?”

With a great sigh, you shut your eyes and shake your head. “No. I feel like we’re in a furnace, and someone is hammering my head.” There is something very gentle about your voice that Taehyung does not recognise at all. It’s soft, shy even, the completely opposite from the way you normally speak. And from the babyish way your lips are jutted out…

Taehyung doesn’t for a second doubt that the fever is frying your brain. Because your mannerism would never be this mild and soft-spoken in your right mind. You haven’t even sworn once despite the condition you’re in; that’s how he knows with absolute certainty that you’re not yourself.

Just as he is about to suggest taking you to the doctor, you pinch the material of your top and begin peeling it off. It rides up your damp skin to reveal your glistening waist. Higher. Over your ribcage. Higher. The underside swells of your breasts peeking through.

All sensible thought vacates him.

Nowadays, not much can fluster Taehyung anymore, so the attack of heat rushing to his face feels rather foreign, strangely tickling his chest. The female body is a frequent sight for him, especially yours, so this really shouldn’t faze him at all. It’s perhaps the context of this situation, how you are hardly conscious, completely vulnerable and beside yourself.

“Stop.” He catches the material of your rising shirt in your hand. You look at him with a cocked head when you notice his prevention, cheeks red from the fever, confusion worn so genuinely that he chokes. “Fuck- Don’t look at me like that while taking your shirt off. Stop taking your shirt off, even.”

“Look at you like what?” Your voice is soft, its usual cockiness absent. Just pure innocence. It shouldn’t suit you given your typical boisterous character, but it strangely does.

“Lookingatmelikesomeinnocentfuckingkittengoddammit.” He mutters under his breath, staring at the wall to avoid that heart-ruining expression of yours as he tugs your top back down. It takes everything in him not to dwell on those perversions. God, what is wrong with him? This is so completely inappropriate.

“But it’s hot…”

At a moment of weakness, Taehyung takes a glimpse at your face and, lo and behold, immediately gets shot in the heart by your beseeching pout. Not to mention the way you’re whining…

Fuck. Taehyung is going to fucking melt.

“Okay, but don’t take off your shirt just like that. Warn me next time.” He grips onto your shirt as tightly as it takes to ground himself, fist rested on your hip. You’re his friend right now. Nothing more. Stop being a sopping melt.

“Okay, sorry. But can I at least change into new jammies? These are too stuffy.” Disgruntled, you plead, eyes wishfully wide.

Jammies? Jammies? Are you kidding him? Taehyung is this close to banging his head against the wall. Who is this person sitting in front of him right now? Because he has never, never, in his two and a half+ years of knowing you, witnessed you like this. Literally who are you?

“Um, er, okay, so- How about, I’ll let you change into some lighter clothes, then we’ll get you to the doctor. How does that sound?” He tucks your hair neatly behind your ears and pluck on your lobe endearingly.

“What? No, please, no!” You throw your hands up and groan, narrowly missing whacking him on the chin. Now, you’re infamous for your stubbornness against medical care, steadfast to your belief that one’s body is sufficient in recovering itself in most cases. No pain killers, no cough drops, no flu medicine. Taehyung theorises that you like to suffer, gives you a good boost of self esteem knowing that you can endure the pain. He knows what you’re like with your pride and ego.

But now is not the time. “Why not? You’re burning up. Don’t be so headstrong.”

“I don’t want to move.” Sniff.

“I’ll carry you.” That makes you pause.

“Taehyung, no! I don’t wanna go.” Tantrum on the brink of bubbling, as you bang your fists against the mattress and cross your arms, frowning in displeasure at him. Ah, there’s the Y/N he knows. “And you better keep your distance too, or else you’ll catch whatever I have.” Sniff.

“I’ll keep my distance if you let me take you to the doctor.” Two can play this game. Taehyung’s stubbornness isn’t to shabby himself. And though in your past arguments, he has usually always been the one to be lenient and back down, he won’t budge this time.

“Stop being fussy, or I won’t drink any water or take any medicine and-”

“Stop being a brat, or I’ll kiss you right now.”

You shut up right away. It’s hard to suppress the smirk of triumph that overcomes Taehyung. “W-What?” You stammer, visibly shying away from you.

“Did I stutter?” He dares to provoke, before swiftly leaning his face into yours.

“Dude!” Even in your sickly state, your reflexes are quick, hand immediately catching over his mouth before he could kiss you. His face stops, inches away from yours, the only barrier between you being your hand. In such proximity, he can feel the heat melting off you, radiating into his bones. Your eyes, wide and panicked. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get ill too.” Taehyung swears the heavy tint in your cheeks is only partially due to the fever. He smiles against your warm palm, making sure to pucker his lips for emphasis of his intention. You are so fun to fluster.

“Then go to the doctor.” His voice his muffled by your hand.

“You’re so stubborn, god!” Oh, the hypocrisy. “Look. The doctor can’t do anything except give me some medicine to decrease my temperature. But fever is good for the body anyway. It’s optimising the temperature for my immune cells to fight off the bugs. This is gonna pass. Stop worrying.”

Lightly, you shove his face away and slide down the bed until you’re buried neck-deep by the covers, mouth pursed in a tight, irritated pout that Taehyung finds adorable.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me kissing you then, if it’s nothing to worry about.” Taehyung hovers over you, dangerously close, and you quickly cover your own mouth this time. This is a fun game, one that he knows he will win. If there is one thing that can overcome your stubbornness, it’s his own health in jeopardy. And Taehyung doesn’t even feel remotely bad for taking advantage of that.

It’s not that he wants to catch this sickness from you… But if that’s what it takes to threaten you to seek medical help, then he’ll do it a hundred times.

Plus, he misses your lips, okay? It’s a win-win situation for him: either he gets to kiss you, or you let him take you to the doctor. Genius.

For a moment, you just stare back at him, fury brewing in those eyes that are no longer hazy from the fever but ablaze with annoyance and displeasure. But he already knows what your answer will be.

“You’re a bully, Kim Taehyung, you’re a fucking bully. I’m not going to speak to you ever again.”

Taehyung chuckles and hauls you out of bed.

.

You sulk at the way to the hospital, not uttering a single word to Taehyung as you swore you would. He’s kind of impressed, actually. Anything he asks you, you would reply with a nod, shake, or shrug. He guesses it’s a combination of your anger and genuine fatigue and light-headedness.

When he tries to loop his arm around yours in the Uber, you let him, but look out the window as if he isn’t right beside you. Hmpf, so this is what he gets for looking after you. Fine, he can handle it.

“Are you just going to ignore my presence, baby?” The pet name is intentional, to tease you further and see if you would break your silence to tell him off.

You don’t fall for it.

Instead, you briefly turn to him, give him a daggered look that says I’ll never suck you off again, and turn back around, pretending to find the empty streets wildly interesting.

“Fine, baby girl. Suit yourself.” Taehyung catches the driver’s amused eyes in the rearview mirror. Something along the lines of: women, am I right? He smiles and rests his head on yours for the rest of the ride.

Upon arrival to the hospital, you silently storm out of the car and register at the reception. Taehyung doesn’t quite understand why you’re so mad, and what exactly you have against doctors that appears to be so personal, but he is finding this rather entertaining.

The two of you are ushered to the waiting room by a kind-looking nurse roughly of his mother’s age, the type of kind that makes you want to pour your heart out and entrust her with all your secrets.

Still not a peep from you. Though many sniffs.

“How are you feeling right now?” He asks as he sits himself down on the seat next to you. It could be wishful thinking but your eyes soften when you look at him. You throw him a thumbs down before returning to the form you are intently filling out.

You are startled when Taehyung takes your chin in his long fingers, pulls you slightly closer to him and plants his lips on your fever-heated cheek. “I’ll get you some water then.” He gets up before he can dwell too long on your reaction, the way you are completely frozen, pen nib pressed so hard on the paper that a blodge of ink has oozed out of the ballpoint. If he dwells too long, he thinks his heart might do a funny thing.

As he walks towards the water dispenser in the corner of the room, he passes the nurse again, who smiles knowingly at him as she heads towards where you are sitting, no doubt to check up on you. God, he wants to spill all his feelings to this nurse. She reminds him of his grandmother when he was young.

Taehyung returns with a cup of cool water, this one more full than the one he’d poured for you this morning. He finds you chatting quietly to the nurse, the face mask she had just handed you resting around your chin, oblivious to his approach.

“You are lucky to have such a great boyfriend, young lady. Trust me, he’s a keeper.” The nurse muses at her.

Taehyung fully expects you to scoff or choke on your own spit, stand up and yell at the clueless woman: WHAT THE FUCK, HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. EW. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Because that has totally happened before; people tend to mistaken you two as a couple everywhere you go.

Except... You just blink at the nurse, rather blankly as if trying to comprehend her words. Then you nod.

Just nod.

The paper cup almost slips out of Taehyung’s hand.

“Love, the way he looks at you? Anyone would die to be looked at like that.” The nurse continues.

Taehyung rushes to your side before she can say more.

“Here. Water.” Clearing his throat, he hands you the cup without making any eye contact. He hopes he’s not blushing but the heat rushing to his face says otherwise. When he glances up at the nurse, she is smiling at him as if she knows exactly what is going on in his mind.

“Thanks.” You whisper.

Oh, so you’re back to speaking to him now. Is it because of what she said? When your eyes meet, something clicks. An emotional click that tells him that your annoyance towards him had been a mask for your genuine gratitude. Taehyung’s chest is fuzzy with relief.

Not long later, you are called to the doctor’s room. Taehyung sits waiting for you outside, silently pondering the nurse’s words and your lack of protest.

.

“Come on, Y/N, what’s the point of going to the doctors if you aren’t going to take the medicine they prescribe you?” Taehyung lets out a rumble of frustration. A bottle of water and a packet of pills clutched in one hand, he is this close to plucking his hair out.

“The point of going to the doctors was to get you not to kiss me and catch the same flu. The doctor said this virus is contagious, and could still be at this stage.” Your voice, nasal from your blocked nose, is stifled further by the face mask. Changed into a t-shirt and shorts so you don’t sweat through your clothes again - yes, the shorts, the heatwave shorts - you cross your arms and roll to the other side of the bed. Taehyung’s hand is itching to spank your ass pink.

“That means I’ll probably get ill anyway in the next few days. We literally kissed yesterday.” He points out, and it might be psychological but his head is beginning to hurt a little. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell you or else you’d turn this around and be the one fussing over him. “Come here.”

Taehyung locks his fingers around your ankles and drags you back towards him, ignoring your feeble squeak. He gives in and smacks your butt lightly.

“Oi!” You twist around and kick the shackles of his grip off. “You dare hit the sick?! My head is killing me as it is.” Sniff.

“Oh, so you admit that you’re sick? Why don’t you take the medicine then?” Forcing you onto his lap, he wrestles your battling arms and hold them in place behind your body. In any other situation, he would be awfully turned on right now. Something about your brattiness is a kink to him.

With the rest of your face covered by the mask, your eyes are fiercely emanating your obstinate defiance. It should be a scary look, your death glare, but after this long, anything you do in Taehyung’s eyes has been reduced to animated cuteness. He feels like he’s the only one who could go up against you like this without cowering. You’ve stopped struggling against his grip now, rather sulking as you’re perched on his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate that you’re unconsciously pouting behind that mask.

“Because I promise I’m going to feel better. Medicine is for the weak. The doctor said herself that the fever will subside tomorrow! Then what’s the point of administering these extra chemicals into my body if I’m recovering on my own?” You whine.

“To help you recover better!”

“Flu medicine is a scam. You’re too gullible-”

“Do you love or care about me at all?”

You tense at his abrupt question that appears out of the blue. “Well... yeah. You-You’re my best friend. Which is why I don’t want you falling sick too, so just shoo.” You’re squirming, trying to brush off your initial surprise at his question which is all the more accentuating your bashfulness. Taehyung just wants to kiss, god dammit.

“Then don’t you know that it’s killing me to see you in pain like this? To see my best friend burning up with a fever and refusing to let me look after her? Are you seriously that cold-hearted to let me suffer like this if you claim to love and care about me?”

Yes, Taehyung is playing this game. Emotional manipulation? Yes. Probably a little bit of a dick move? Yes. But does he care as long as it does the trick? No.

“Bro, you can’t use this against me. Just let me suffer, I like to suffer, this fever feels fucking fantastic.” When he lets your wrists go, you punch his arm lightly, frowning, though he can see the tiniest spark of amusement in your pupils. Not to mention the rise in your cheeks that indicates your attempt in hiding a smile.

“Shut up and be a good girl, or I’ll kiss you right now.” Hands running up your bare legs, he tugs you closer by the hip before resting his arms around your waist. Though you’re arching away, he sees your cheeks rise even higher.

“Stop trying to kiss me.” You groan overdramatically and try to wriggle away; you would think he’s the one with the illness from how much you’re trying to get away from him. When you proceed to clamp both hands over your masked mouth, Taehyung knows he’d sooner receive the ball of your foot to his temple than be able to feel your lips at this rate.

Okay fine, different approach. “I’ll cut my hair off.”

“What? No-nO. Dude that’s not fair, what the fuck?” Your whole body falls limp in defeat in his arms as you wail. Taehyung can’t help but laugh. “Okay I will take the stupid medicine. Please don’t cut your hair.”

“Okay, good girl.” Humming against your neck, he tries to hide the smug grin of his victory. “On one more condition though.”

“Wow, you’re literally using my love for your hair as blackmail, you dick. Spit it out.” He feels your fingers sink through his long untamed curls, tips massaging his scalp like your lover. Taehyung sometimes feels like you love his hair as if it is a completely separate entity from him, like if you could marry his hair, you would.

“Let me kiss your mouth.” He looks up at you, craned neck and sheepish smile. He knows he’s being unfairly demanding, especially of someone who is ill. But it’s been over 12 hours since you have last kissed. 12 hours. Come on. He’s only human.

“Taehyung, I swear to G-” If your legs weren’t straddled around him, he knows his chest would be met with your foot.

“And I swear to God I’ll get a buzz cut.” Not even bluffing. Every other guy goes through a crisis at some point in their life and gets a god awful buzz cut. Nothing special.

“OH MY GOD- NO. BUZZCUT? NO. Okay, okay, quickly kiss me over the mask, then I’ll take the fucking meds.” The utter horror and mortification that detonates across your face has Taehyung cackling. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d still like him with no hair. He’s sometimes afraid that you wouldn’t. But then again, he has vomited on your face before, yet you still like him. So there’s that.

“Wait over the mask?” It just registers with him what you said.

“I’m all gross. You don’t want to kiss me on the lips anyway.” Your gaze falls as you sniffle for probably the thousandth time today, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck but dropping it right away when you realise that it’s a nervous tick.

Taehyung sighs. “Over the mask is better than no kiss. I’ll take it.”

As his face approaches yours, he is keenly aware that you’re unwilling to meet his eyes. Cute. Soon, your eyes are level with each other, yet you only dare peer at his nose. He boops his nose to yours, breath separated only by the thin material of the mask, waiting for you to lean in.

But when you make no move to initiate it, Taehyung smiles. God, since when did you become so shy. He knows he tends to have this effect on people but since when did he turn you into a blushing, eye-avoiding mess?

He doesn’t expect much when he places his mouth over yours. The gauzy material of the mask grazes his lips, smelling like the overly-sanitised stench of hospital. So he is surprised to find something in him tingle slightly, even despite such physical obstruction of intimacy. The white fabric folds over the curve of your lips to mould with his. He feels a rush of cool from the sharp inhale through your nose.

He pulls away sooner than you want. Your expression is confused by the short duration of the kiss, so not what you expected and is used to.

“I’m sorry, that’s not going to do it for me.” Taehyung rasps. And with that, he pinches the mask down and presses fully onto your lips.

Your heat that greets him sends a surge down his spine. Jeez, you are burning. But he’s pretty sure he is too, from the way he can hear his blood pounding in his ear. You are completely static at first, frozen in place from shock of his boldness. He can wager what exactly is going on in your head. This boy. This boy has some fucking nerve.

And that is correct, he does have some fucking nerve.

But soon, you are kissing him back, probably not out of your own free will but simply from the natural instinct that overrides you when met with his lips. Nowadays, kissing each other feels like sinking into your bed after a long day at college. Comfortable, heart-warming. Kissing other people doesn’t feel half as nice, just like how no bed ever feels like your bed.

Taehyung can sense how much you’ve been longing for this as well from the low gentle vibrations of your throat as you purr. Your entire face is a few degrees hotter than it normally is, and worry is gnawing at the back of his brain almost irrationally. Because he knows that as much as you are bickering with him and acting playful, your head must be hammering. The last time he’d checked, your temperature was still 39˚C.

He has to be the one to pull away again. “You’re burning.” He watches your eyes linger on his glistening lips before glancing up. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine…” You whisper, leaning up to peck his lips several more times. There are moments where Taehyung’s heart completely clenches, like seizes. You say you don’t want to kiss him for his own good, yet here you are savouring his taste like you can’t get enough. Fuck. Taehyung is feeling things.

“Are you sure? Here, take this.” He passes you the bottle of water and packet of medication that were carelessly tossed to the side when he was busy holding you. Without protest, out of fear for the fate of Taehyung’s hair no doubt, you pop a pill out of its foil bubble. “Two pills at once, three times a day.”

“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes and put them in your mouth, swallowing without so much of a gag.

Taehyung sucks in. “Don’t say the d-word.”

“Wh- I purposely said dad, not daddy.” Flabbergasted by his implication, you scoff and remove yourself from his lap, rolling back under the covers until no more than a burrito with your face peeking out. “I can’t believe you are even thinking about that, nympho.” Sniff again, though you make no effort to put your mask back up.

“Hey, I’ve been so good, I was just warning you! That’s a triggering word for me.” Taehyung joins you under the cool duvet. “You have absolutely zero right to call me a nympho. Do I have to remind you of the time you called me out of my lecture so we could fuck in the toilets in the middle of a school day? Or that time in the library-”

“Shhh. I’m ill, my memory is a little hazy.” You smile, rather wholesomely, at him.

Sometimes, when he looks at you, he can look through the narrow windows of your ego and view the persona that lie within. Just a girl who loves kisses and cuddles and making bad decisions at 3am.

And maybe a girl who loves him.

.

You fall asleep fairly quickly after the medication. One would have thought that would give Taehyung plenty of time to make use of his day, maybe start an abstract painting or finish his coursework due in a week and a half. But nope.

Taehyung has discovered that he has an extremely irrational fear of you being sick. He simply couldn’t stop himself from going into your room every 15 minutes, making sure that you’re still breathing and placing cold towels on your sweat-beaded forehead to help your temperature drop. You are in deep sleep, shallow breaths, no eye movement. He may have snuck in a few cheek kisses just to check if you’re really asleep, and you were. He still kissed you a bit more anyway.

After a whole evening of restlessness, he finally decides to give up and go to bed. He debates sleeping with you, just for his own peace of mind, but you probably want your own space anyway.

So, after brushing his teeth and changing into his so-called jammies - he will give you shit for that once you feel better - he quietly creeps into your room one last time with a fresh towel. With soundless steps, he perches lightly on the edge of your bed, eyes adjusting to the pitch darkness.

This time, you wince slightly at the cold wetness of the towel, rousing, but not completely conscious.

“Taehyung?” Your voice is incredibly hoarse, barely a croak, so he scrambles for your bottle of water and feeds it to you.

“Hey, it’s me.” He murmurs softly, and resumes wiping your forehead gently.

“Wh… are you do..g here?” Incoherent syllables indicate how you’re mostly still asleep.

“Looking after my baby. I’ll go to bed and leave you to rest soon.”

When your hand abruptly flies up and clamps around his, Taehyung jumps. You’re freezing. “No. Don’t go, please.”

His mind doesn’t know what to respond to first, your sudden cold sweats, or your request for him to stay. His chest squeezes. “I- H- You’re freezing, Y/N.”

“I know, but please stay.” In the dark, Taehyung can only barely make out the shape of your face and see that your eyes are still shut. Maybe you’re dreaming.

Please stay.

“Okay, don’t worry, of course I’ll stay. But just please tell me how you’re feeling?” He climbs in at the other side of the bed and presses his palm on your neck. Your temperature regulation is fucked up by this fever. Seeing you like this makes something in him crack.

“Finenowthatyou’rehere.” You snuggle up to his chest and mumble into his hoodie, already beginning to fall back into heavy slumber.

Chest squeeze, again.

Taehyung feels his own heart pounding. These words of endearment are rare from you; he’s going to hold on to them for as long as he can. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

He is such a sap, he knows, a hopeless fool. But you’re his missing part, he feels it in his bones. He hopes that he’s yours too.

Then you mutter something inaudible into his chest. The iciness of your touch flails his back as your hands reach beneath his hoodie to hold him tighter. There’s something about the way the scene is set, how you’re delirious from your fever, clinging onto him in complete darkness of your room. Taehyung’s emotions are flooding.

“What was that?”

“I love you so much, Taehyung.”

His brain short-circuits entirely. It just switches off.

I

Love

You

So

Much,

Taehyung.

Words that he’d never expected to hear from you, not tonight, not any time in the near future, and certainly not unprovoked like this, utterly at your own accord.

Then his brain turns itself back on again, and is instantly swept away by the chaos that breaks out. “W... What do you mean by that?” He needs to know that he’s interpreting this correctly and rather than hearing what he wants to hear.

“Mmmm...” You groan sleepily. Taehyung shouldn’t take this too seriously right? You’re not even in your right mind. Your head is still buried in him, inhaling his scent like he is your oxygen. “You know what I mean. I just mean I love you a lot more than I love myself.” Sniff. “I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.

Taehyung feels a sting in his eye, what the fuck.

He isn’t moving. He doesn’t think he can. And so you just lay there in each other’s arms, in complete silence, but also not silence because you had just declared your love for him and all his thoughts are screaming.

What the fuck is ‘I love you big and tall and wide’? He fucking loves you big and tall and wide too.

Okay. Okay. Let’s stay calm.

No. He loves you.

He has loved you for a very long time, and a part of him has always known. It’s you. It’s always you. The way you met. The way you found each other. The way everything fell in place in his life after you. It’s fate. It’s all fate. And it’s all you. Because Taehyung is not a violent person by any means, but he would kill for you, he would do anything for you. It scares him.

And that’s just the funny way that love works. A lot of the times, it is standing right there in front of you, waving its hands and shouting for you attention. And you dismiss it at first because you mistake it for friendship, even though there’s an inkling in you that has considered the possibility that it’s more than that. So you go about your life, day by day with this person who you love but don��t know you love yet, collecting your little moments together into a heart-shaped glass jar without realising it. Until one day you look at the jar and see that it’s completely full.

His heart is full. His heart is full of you.

He doesn’t know what to do or what that means. He isn’t even sure of his own feelings, whether it is a heat of the moment confusion, or a cauldron of bubbling emotions at the brim of spillage.

But no, he is sure.

He knows that he loves you. He knows it.

Because why else would nothing boil his blood more than the sight of you in the arms of someone else? Why else would nothing hurt more than seeing you in pain like this? Why else would nothing bring him more joy than simply sitting next to you, being able to touch you, making you laugh? And why else would it feel like he can spend the rest of forever just looking at you, memorising your details while you play with his hair that you love so much?

He loves you.

It is perhaps the darkness that gives him such courage, because he gathers himself and says, “I love you. So fucking much, I love you, Y/N. I thought I knew what love was before you, I thought I was happy and content with my life. But now, I can’t even remember what I was like without you. Because that guy wasn’t me. I’m not me without you. And I love you. I entirely belong to you. And I love you.

“I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

And it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. His insides aren’t twisted into knots anymore. Suddenly, he can see with such clarity. In the dark, he only sees you.

He sees you fast asleep against his chest. Arms looped around his waist in a way that makes him never want to leave his bed.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and exhales. Maybe from relief.

You are asleep. You hadn’t heard.

Yes, he is definitely relieved. He doesn’t think he’s ready to face the consequences of his feelings yet if he had really just poured his heart out to you. You probably didn’t mean it that way anyway; he is overthinking.

But the ‘I love you so much, Taehyung.’ The heartfelt passion in your voice could not have been his imagination.

So, with a great sigh, he makes use of the fact that you’re asleep to rehearse it a few more times.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

.

02/02/19

© Copyright 2020

.

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco​ @d-noona​ @haechanspudu​ @dawnispeace​she

[wildlittlefoxsworld]

Hey can you do a the old guard imagine about Andy x reader. Where the reader is immortal but ihas a younger doppelgänger and they team finds out and reader has to explain her family bloodline and all that jazz any questions message me. Thanks love the two imagines on the old guard so far. Keep up the good work.

Gene Recurrence | The Old Guard | Andy x Fem!Reader

Author's note: This was a very interesting request. I got instantly an idea and I hope you will like it.

Warnings: light smut, light angst, angry!Joe, fluff

Words: 2.6 k +

Masterlist

Sequel "Mornings in the Carribbean"

***

Vacation. Summer. Caribbean sun. Colorful cocktails. Your family. Your hot girlfriend. What did you need more?

A thin, white cloth was draped about your lower half of the body and your eyes still closed, you savoured how the warm wind felt on your skin.

That days were rarely, when you were just laying lazy in bed and having nothing to worry about.

You looked to your left side and noticed that Andy was still sleeping. You stayed silent, because Andy had a light sleep and you wanted her to rest. Her left arm laid across your stomach and her right served herself as a pillow. The actual pillows were shoved of the bed by her moving in the sleep.

“So beautiful,” you mumbled quietly and carassed Andy's cheek with your fingertips. A small smile started to spread on her lips and you knew she heard you. Andy opened her green eyes and wouldn't you have loved her already, you would fall for her all over again.

“You always say the right words,” Andy praised and shifted closer to you. Rolling your body to the side you were laying face to face. She raised her hand slowly to stroke over your hair and stopped in your neck. The grip was firm like everything about her, she was always ready to fight, but here with you. Here she could be soft and tender, despite you loved her sharpness and precision. She was a warrior in every aspect of her life.

Andy went straight for what she wanted and needed. Now she wanted to kiss you passionately, dragging you back on the mattress, making clear that she was in charge and you loved every second of it. You loved Andy for her careness in a authority way, always having the upper hand and yet she gave you everything you craved for. She hold you tight in her arms, kissed you in a way that aroused both of you and touched your skin with right strength or tenderness to drive you crazy.

The both of you ended up panting with her on top of you laying between your legs. Her mouth trailed down your throat and she sucked slightly on your skin. You gasped when she found your sweet stop, grazing her teeth over the sensitive area.

“Please,” you whispered and Andy knew excatly what you wanted, but before she could start regale your upper body with her kisses, there was a knock on your door.

“We go to the beach. Do you want to join or are you busy?” Nicky's voice came hushed from the hallway and Andy let her head sink on your breasts.

“Hurry up before the best sun lounger are occupied,” Joe shouted laughing. You heard their footsteps dissapearing after you told them you would follow soon. Andy groaned but hieved her body up to stand up, but you grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back down. Andy quirkend an eyebrow and smirked when you shoved your hand under her shirt.

“Are you in the mood for a quick shower? Together? Then going to the beach?” Andy suggested and you were more than happy to let her picking you up.

The shower with Andy let to more than washing away the sweat from a hot night. You felt statisfied for the moment and Andy gave you a last lovingly kiss before leaving the bathroom.

You put on a simple white bikini and a yellow long skirt. With a bag over your shoulder and intertwined fingers with Andy, you went down to the beach near the hotel.

“Only fourty-five minutes, is that a new record, Nicky?” Joe mocked and the the both men laughed including Booker.

“We thought it would take at least two hours,” Booker chuckled and Andy rolled playfully her eyes while you slapped Booker on the back of the head lightly.

“Hey, and what about Joe?”

You looked over to the dark-haired man and he grinned triumphal. You shrugged and gave Joe the same treatment. Joe looked befuddled at you and wanted to say something. “Behave, my love,” Nicky warned him and gave him a meaningful look with a hint of a smile.

“Good Morning, Nicky,” you said warmhearted and kissed him on the cheek.

“Good morning, principessa,” he replied smiling and you sat down on your sun lounger next to Andy and Nicky.

“I get myself something to drink. Anyone wants something?” Booker asked in the round.

“An apple spritzer would be great,” you told him and he nodded. It would take him a few minutes to get your, Nicky's and his drinks.

Meanwhile Andy ordered your services in putting sun screen on her back.

When Booker came back his expression was bewildered and you frowned, because he nearly spilled the drinks. Nicky helped him while you were massaging Andy's shoulders.

“Are you alright?” you inquiried about his well-being and you got worried when he didn't stop starring at you.

“I saw a girl that looks excatly like you. First I thought it was you, but then I looked over to all of you and you were here. She wears a green jumpsuit and looks the same as you from hair to toe,” he explained in hurry and nearly chocked on his own tongue.

“I was sitting on my girlfriend's butt the whole time,” you commentend his words. “And there are many women here that has the same hair and skin color like me. Did you see her face from the front? Maybe she was just looking simliar to me.”

Booker searched for help by the others, but Joe just shrugged and Andy closed her eyes again, she wiggled underneath you to make you continuing with your massage.

“Are you sure you aren't just drunk?” Joe suggested and Booker shook his head furiously. For a second he seemed meditative, but then his head spinned around and he acted like he was searching for someone. “There she is. Still at the bar,” Booker proclaimed.

All of you stretched their necks and in this moment the woman turned around, it was like you were looking in a mirror.

“Yep, that's you, Y/N,” Nicky said deadpanned. In shock you couldn't move, couldn't tear away your eyes. She could be your twin, the same hair, eyes, face, heigh, body figure. But she looked younger. You had been close to your thirties when you first had died, she was probably in her early twenties.

Of course, your family watched you curiously and expecting an explanation maybe, but they weren't sure if you would have one.

Even Andy lifted her body up and studied the appearance of the young girl. “Interesting,” she mumbled and her head turned to you. But you were frozen in your position balancing on your shins. Andy observed you. It was clearly to her how shocked you must been, but something in your gaze got her perplexed. Your breathing increased and your hands were clenched to fists.

Andy rolled herself on her back underneath you and took your hands gently in hers. You got frightened for a second before you noticed it was only your beloved one.

“It's okay, darling. Why are you so tense? I can tell you aren't scared or atonished. This isn't new to you, right?” Andy asked carefully and you were taken aback. She knew you too well and rumbled you most of the time. Frustration grew inside you and let you groan loudly

“Fuck,” you cursed. Andy watched you worriedly and pulled you down on her lap. You scrunched your face in annoyance when she rubbed your back, trying to calm you down. Why did this happen now? It didn't happen in your whole immortal time and so you needn't to explain anything.

“She's your doppelgänger,” Joe murmered still confused.

“I know, Joe,” you said through gritted teeths.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Andy demanded and you sighed in defeat.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“Now I'm curious about it,” Joe exclaimed and folded his arms over his chest. Even Nicky showed interest, but he wasn't demanding like the others, he just wanted to understand.

“I descend from witches,” you began to speak and Nicky's widened in surprise and he exchanged looks with Joe.

“Witches? Like riding-a-broom-witches?” Booker asked shocked and laughed in disbelief. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“So, you are a witch?” Nicky tried to encourage you to tell further.

“I was a witch. I lost my powers after I had died the first time. Seemed nature doesn't allow more than one gift. And I never flew on a broom.” Your last words were full of fury over Booker's mocking tone. You hated that people always had prejudices about witches, but what should you say, people were always scared about supernatural things.

“What powers did you have?” Nicky shared his thoughts and you were glad that he stayed objective.

“Nothing special. I used spells to change weather for a good harvest or that someone found love. I brewed potions for simple illnesses or headaches. A few could more, a few were more powerful.”

“What do you mean? More powerful?” Booker was alarmed and you saw that your story scared him.

“Some could read minds or manipulate minds, able to control time or bring people back from the death, but that was only told. None of my family members could do that. It was simple magic we practiced and even at my time as a human our magic faded slowly away. Many of acient books and journals got lost in a fire when my grandma was a child. Only the knowlegde of basic magic survived and not everyone of us practiced magic.”

You didn't want to look in someones eyes, you were ashamed that you never told them the truth and you were sure they wereü mad at you.

“So witches are real,” Joe determined and stroked his beard. You nodded slowly.

Andy hugged you and you buried your face in the crook of her neck. “You are doing great, babe, you finally told them. I know it's hard, but it's better,” Andy soothed you and her words and presence helped you to calm down.

“You knew the whole time she was a witch?” Booker snorted and shook his head. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“It wasn't my story to tell and she was never a threat for us. She isn't a witch and I don't think she lied,” Andy explained firmly and lose her arms from around you. Gratefully you smiled at her and she mimicked it.

“In 700 years you didn't think once to mention that you were a witch,” Joe scolded reproachful.

“Don't overstate it. That's her past, Joe. It died with her and it wasn't important in her new life. And what she said… it seemed like her family never causes any harm towards humans,” Nicky tried to calm Joe down. He was always to patient, he tried to understand my situation and private motives not say anything.

“I know she would never hurt us and you know I love her like a sister. But she could've told us. She told Andy,” responded still a little angry.

“Do you remember how fast she bonded with Andy and Quynh, it's naturally that she told the people she trusted the most. Do you remember how suspicious she was towards men, it took us a decade to gain her complete trust. And then her past didn't matter, he left her family behind.”

Joe sighed in defeat when Nicky convinced him.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” Joe apologized, but you weren't mad and you had already forgiven him.

“That doesn't explain why you have a doppelgänger?” Booker remembered on the original topic and you nodded in agreement.

“A long time before my birth a powerful witch of my family wanted the witches to be stronger. My family weren't sure what she could really do, but she casted a spell that didn't end up like she wanted. It didn't make her or any of her sisters stronger. It only made the wisdom and knowledge surviving the centuries. The nature allowed us to be reborn, like an reincarnation. The soul came back to earth in a new life, but with the memories of her past lives. Not all memories, but the important ones to remember all the lessons the soul had learned.”

“You never told me that,” Andy mourned and you quirked an eyebrow.

“I did, but I only told you that I could be reborn. I didn't know that it's possible. I still have my soul, this woman isn't me, she can't remember anything from me or my past lives. But I can remember neither today, the memories faded over the centuries. I think the memories from past lives started to come back when I was sixteen or seventeen, but well… it's a long time ago.”

“That's an incredible story, Y/N, but it still doesn't explain why she is your doppelgänger. Is it possible that you can be reborn without your soul?” Joe considered and watched your doppelgänger, she was talking to few other women.

“The soul goes back to her origin one day, that's my grandma always told me. I could imagine it's only a gene recurrence. Something the nature couldn't fix, because I'm still alive. So the nature gave her or if there were more reincarnations; them a new soul.”

Andy listened attentive to your explanation and it was a lot to process. She knew that witches existed, a long time before she met you and she knew that their magic slowly disappered over the centuries. You were part of a family that originated powerful witches, but maybe the curse of reincarnations guranteed the long survive of the witches in your family. After you became part of this warrior family she never heard again of real witches, because with the witch trials in the medieval time the real witches went into hiding and maybe never showed up again, until today.

“Do you think she's a witch?” Andy asked you and you inclined your head. “I don't think so. If she would have powers, then she has two different eye colours or a piece of a different colour in one eye.”

“You have only one eye colour,” Booker mentioned unnecessarily.

“I know, it was gone after I lost my powers. Booker you saw her closer than we could have. Do you remember her eyes?”

“Only one colour,” he answered and you believed him.

“She could wear contact lenses,” Nicky considered and you shook your head. “It's rarely to have different eye colours. But for our peace of mind Booker could do a background check on her, if she's dangerous, we will find out.”

“I will do it, just for safety,” Booker agreed and took a sip from his drink.

Nicky smirked cynically. “And I thought we could have a uneventful week for once.”

“That's would be boring,” you responded sarcastically and you all laughed.

Booker found out that your descendant wasn't dangerous. You hadn't incommon much, besides your family name and appearance. She was born in the U.S., worked as a nurse and was married. Booker told you that your family emigrated in the eighteenth century from today's Germany in the U.S. and remained there until today.

You didn't care about the new informations. You only cared about your current family. Nicky and Joe, Booker, and of course Andy. You didn't regret being an immortal, you met the love of your life and you couldn't be happier.

“I was weird to see a person that looks exactly like you. Now I look at you and I can tell you aren't the same. You have an old burnt scar on your left hand and your muscles are defined. You are talented with the cross bow and your father's long sword. You always smile when you look at me and tell me how happy you are that you had met me. And I love you so much that I couldn't bear to lose you,” Andy whispered in your ear when she hugged you from behind in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too, Andromache.”

***

What do you think?

[thiswasinevitableid]

13 fury and 29 leviathan, Ot4, nsfw, please!

I decided to split these up, so here’s Leviathan, and fury will be a separate fill! Indrid’s design is based on an oarfish, Duck on a grouper, Barclay on a whale shark, and Stern is a black and white snapper.

There are times Joseph wishes he was just a brain floating in seashell, not a mer with a body that needs things like food, sleep, and sex. The migration of the Leviathans is one such time.

Every five years, the larger creatures of the Marianas Trench travel upwards, for reasons that remain mysterious to even the deep sea mers. Five years ago, Joseph was ill. Five years before, his job was such that he was unable to take the few days needed to visit the migration sight and record his findings. Now that his chance has come, he’s not letting anything, be it the possibility of losing a limb if he gets too close to the giants or the sparse fishing near his camp stop him.

And he’s certainly not letting his heat stop him.

 He’s chosen the optimal observation point, so when another mer swims into the view, he prays they won’t chase him off or make noise.

“Oh, apologies, I was not anticipating this timeline.” The merman is angular around the face, his tan body bookended with silver; his moonlight colored hair occasionally falls across glowing, red eyes, and his tail is longer than average, elegantly metallic and fanned with red. He strikes Joseph as formidable, so it’s a good thing that he seems friendly.

The new mer cocks his head, “You’re here to observe the migration.”

“I am. Um, are you?” It could be fun to have a fellow rare creature’s enthusiast to keep him company.

“No. I come here to draw, but I’m happy to share the space with you.”

“Thank you.”

They make small talk, during which the other mer introduces himself as Indrid, a seer for hire, and informs Joseph that the migration will start in the next ten minutes.

While his brain focuses on the task ahead, his heat creeps through his body. It’s not too bad, but he knows it will only get more intense as the day moves one. It’s mostly agitation right now, not the aches and tunnel vision that will come for him over the next three days. He’s not sure if he’s releasing any sort of scent signals, because the last thing he needs while trying to record the leviathans is someone pestering him.

Indrid looks up from his drawing, sets it carefully on a stone and swims a circle around Joseph, “Ah, I was not imagining things. You are giving off heat pheromones. And I thought I was prone to unlucky timing.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Joseph grumbles.

“Of course not. I, ah, do not mean to worry you, but there are many futures where your research is interrupted by hopeful suitors.”

“Damn it.”

“If it would help, I could stay close and pretend to be your mate. You, ah, you would not need to actually be such, though I am not opposed to such things once you are done with your day.” His ears flick once, “the point is, my help is not contingent on sex.”

“That…that would be very helpful, thank you.” Indrid seems genuinely eager to help him, which set fondness squirming up his spine.

Indrid retrieves his supplies, curls the end of his tail around the black and white of Joseph’s own, and murmurs, “The first one should appear in under twenty-seconds.”

He’s right on the money, Joseph stifling a gasp of delight as the massive, bone-white body of a Ningen emerges. It’s pace is alarming fast for something so large.

Next is a creature he’s never so much as read of; serpentine and bioluminescent, with light lures fanned out across it’s forehead.

Movement to his left, another mer emerging from the nearby rocks with their eyes on him. Indrid waits a beat, then whips his head around to hiss at the newcomer, frilling his ears out as he does. They turn tail instantly.

“They didn’t even argue.” He’s impressed.

“I have a bit of a, ah, a reputation. It’s unearned, mind you, but sometimes it comes in handy.”

Joseph nods, turns his attention back to the trench just in time to see a Kraken fleeing from a pair of massive sharks.

He continues his observation with no interruptions, Indrid’s presence enough to deter the few mers who come to investigate him. His new acquaintance offers additional benefits; the physical contact soothes his heat to a degree, especially when pretends that this is all a prelude to that lovely tail wrapping around him while Indrid sinks his teeth into his shoulders.

Better still, during a lull in conversation he glances over to find Indrid has captured the leviathans on paper.

“It seemed to me your notes could use illustrations.” He says a moment before Joseph can ask.

“That’s, Indrid those are incredible, you didn’t need to set your own projects aside-“

“This is more fun than drawing the futures. And more rewarding.” He smiles at Joseph’s excitement.

It’s going on hour seven of observation that his body betrays him; his heat seeps into every nerve, his body twitching and squirming in it’s desire to swim off and get off as soon as possible.

“I foresee the migration lasting three more days. If you need to be done for the day, I do not think it will damage your research.”

“I…”

“However” Indrid says casually, “if you want to stay longer but are struggling to, I can always tell you that good mates can last a few hours more.”

“Shit” The part of his tail concealing his dick pulses, “Indrid, how did you know-“

“Foresight.” Indrid taps his temple, grinning wider.

“I, I think I can call it a night.” He repacks his observation kit, Indrid’s tail holding his all the while. Then he whirls, kissing him as the other mer lets out a muffled laugh.

“My, it must have gotten intense.” Indrid strokes his cheek, roving his eyes up and down his body.

“Very. I, I’m sorry, I’m not very good at spontaneity during my heats, so this might be awkward.” He tries to pet Indrid’s tail, only for his wrists to be caught in a strong hold.

“What do you usually do?”

“I, um, I pick out potential partners ahead of time. And if there aren’t any I’m interested in, I just hole up on my own until it’s over. Besides, it’s not just about who I want; what I want can be a bit of a surprise for most mers.”

Indrid leans close, purrs in his ear, “Am I right that you would call yourself, ah, needy pet?”

“Hollllyshit”

“Answer me.” There’s an edge to his lilt.

“Yes, I would, Indrid please-“

“Hush.” The mer begins swimming them towards the houses on the cliffs, “I have just the thing. You need all the attention you can get, more than I can give without passing out, but there is an easy solution.” He turns the conversation away from sex, asking Joseph about his work until they reach the entrance to a home in the rocks, the front of it sporting an impressive garden.

“’Drid, that you?” A voice calls as they swim down the hallway.

“Yes, my love. And I brought a guest.” They round the corner into a large kitchen. Seated at the table is a merman with short, dark hair, and a mottled green and brown fin. He sets the model ship he’s working on into a carved box, then propels himself with obvious, easy strength to capture Indrid in a kiss. It’s only when Indrid nudges him to turn his head that he sees Joseph.

“Oh, uh, name’s Duck, welcome to our place.” He holds out a hand, smile crooked and soft, the evening light falling around the curves of his body in a way that makes it impossible for Joseph to look anywhere else.

“It’s lovely.” He takes Duck’s hand, shaking it as Indrid explains how they met. Duck takes a polite interest in it, adding that he’s done restoration work on the scant plant life near the edge of the trench.

“Now, what I wanna know is if you invited him for the reason I think you did.” Duck sends a pointed look at Josephs tail, where silver and blue are starting to pulse in place of his usual colors.

“Yes. Assuming everyone is amenable to the idea. Speaking of which, where is, ah, nevermind, here he comes.”

“Hey Indrid, should I start dinner? Heard you say something about a guest—oh holy fuck.”

Joseph clamps his hands over his mouth to stifle the excited moan that tries to leap out.

“You two know each other?” Duck looks between them, then smirks, “hold on. Barclay, is this fella mr. tall, dark, and handsome you keep swoonin over?”

“I, uh, I” Barclay seems to be trying to hide behind his grey and black-speckled tail, “I didn’t know this is where you were going. When you said vacation I assumed, like, you’d go somewhere fancy. Not just a few miles out from the city.”

“If the guy behind me hadn’t been in such a rush to get his lunch, I could have told you more.” He swims forward, heat ebbing in the face of discovering where the mer he’s had a crush on for months lives (and that Indrid has managed to secure two of the most attractive mermen in the world as partners).

Before he can reach Barclay, he jerks to a stop. Duck has hold of the end of his tail, though from the sharp-toothed grin this tableau was Indrid’s idea.

“Am I correct” Indrid swims lazy circles around the other three, “that we are all in agreement that the best way for Joseph to manage his heat is for us to take turns helping him relieve the tension?”

“Yep”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes, now for gods sake let’s get to it.” He tries swimming forward, discovers Duck is even stronger than he looks, and lets out a frustrated, horny whine. Duck makes a sympathetic noise, rubbing his tail soothingly. Barclay decides to close the distance himself, only to freeze at Indrid’s voice.

“I believe you said something about dinner, dear one.”

“But-“ Barclay’s brown eyes send a pleading look at between Joseph and Indrid.

“You’ll get your turn, or several if the timelines are correct, but it won’t do for all of us to get caught up in the heat of the moment and forget to eat. Or for Joseph to burn through a great deal of energy and not replenish it. Besides, he clearly likes your cooking. You have a chance to show off.”

Barclay chuckles, “You’re a menace, sir.”

“You love me for it.”

“I do.” Barclay kisses Indrid as he drifts by, gives one more appreciative, longing look at Joseph, and turns back to the counter. Joseph’s back hits the table a split-second later, Indrid’s face and frilled-out ears filling his vision.

“Now, be a good little pet and let me fuck you.” Ink-smudged fingers expertly stroke his scales as his tail curves around him, trapping them together. The pressure of his touch and the sting of his teeth as they graze his collarbone make Joseph buck in his hold.

“IndridpleaseOHshit, shit” a cock slides into him, “that, that was fast.”

“I have been swimming in your desire for hours. It was only because you were so very engrossed in your work that I ohnnnn, I did not ask to do this sooner.” Indrid nibbles his ear, his tail rippling with effort as he fucks deeper, “you just seemed so happy.”

Joseph moans, wrapping his arms around Indrids shoulders, “That’s one of the most considerate things anyone’s done for me in months.”

“You deserve it, pet, just as much as you deserve to be fucked so much you’re too full to swim.”

“No, ahnnfuck, no wonder Barclay looks so content on Monday mornings, if this is how you treat your mates.”

Indrid trills, blushes, and then hides the fact by sinking his teeth into Joseph’s shoulder. The pain lights him up from tail-tip to the top of his head and he buries a kiss in Indrid’s neck. The tendrils of his cock, already wound around Indrid’s shaft, tighten as the other mer kisses along the bite mark.

“That’s it pet, go ahead and cum, you’ve been so patient, held out so long, you’ll feel so much better if you do.”

The fact that it’s the act of receiving permission that tips him over the edge is probably something to bring up with his therapist, but he’s not thinking about that now. Right now, his world is nothing more than blinding pleasure and his body screaming with relief that he’s finally getting off.

Indrid stays still as he rides it out, trilling softly as he kisses his cheeks. He waits until Joseph meets his eyes and nods before he begins rolling his hips, tail coiling and relaxing in time with his efforts.

“There we are, you can take a break pet, lay here and let me-AHhhnn��� His measured thrusts morph into sharp jerks. Joseph’s cock perks up as knuckles graze it, and Duck’s chin rests on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you know watchin you play all high and mighty turns me on. Especially when you’re fuckin such a handsome piece of tail.” Duck fingers open the lower part of the slit from which Indrid’s cock emerged.

“No complaAAIInts here” Indrid’s movements turn wilder by the moment and he cranes his neck backwards in search of kisses. Joseph would sit up so he and Duck could lavish him with them from both sides, but his muscles aren’t quite up to that yet.

There are two, high trills, one after the other as Duck bites the tip of Indrid’s ear and then the base of his neck. Indrid thrusts as deep as he can, cumming with satisfied chirps and moans as Duck sucks a bruise into his neck.

As Indrid pulls out, he rubs at the scales around Joseph’s cock in a way he’s never seen before, one that makes everything close up the instant his cock is all the way free. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“It’s courteous to hold onto what a mate gives you” Indrid leans closer, adding, “I also suspect Barclay will enjoy it.”

Indrid helps Joseph sit up, clearly intending to guide him over to service Duck, but Joseph is miles ahead of him, darting out to wrap his arms around his middle and kiss his way from his chest to his belly.

“Y;know, Barclay made it sound like you were real reserved, shy even. Know heats can make folks a little wild, but this seems like a stretch.”

“It’s, it’s not the heat. It’s you. It’s this” He presses another kiss to his belly slides his hands down to grope his upper tail, “you’re, well, let’s just say I think Indrid has incredible taste. Your whole body is divine, Duck” he nips the sensitive band where scales give way to skin, “if someone told me you swam straight out of Poseidon’s Court, I’d believe them.”

“Fuck, are you always like this?” Duck looks at Barclay, who’s holding a spoon so tight it’s cracking.

“Nope.” The cooks voice is creeping higher as he watches Joseph lick and kiss at Duck’s tail.

Duck stills him with a hand in his hair, keeping his eyes on Barclay, “Do you, uh wanna switch? I can keep an eye on whatever you’re makin so you don’t gotta wait longer.”

“No, I, I wanna be good. I can be patient. But, uh, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Alright handsome, you can keep goinnnnfuck, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” Duck cups the back of his head, urging him on. Joseph understands why Indrid wasn’t thrown by his unconventional cock; Duck’s is the same, multiple short, hyper-sensitive tendrils emerging from a slit instead of a shaft.

To his delight Duck is vocal, moaning and groaning as he tells him how well he’s doing, how perfect he looks with a cock in his mouth.

“Oughta, oughta make you suck ‘Drid and Barclay at the same time, be so fuckin hot, think I could cum without even touchin myself ohfuck, yeah, do that again.”

The tendrils tickle when they glide over his tongue, harden when he curls his lips around a few and sucks.

“Enjoying yourself my love?”

“You know it, darling. Fuck, Joe, where the fuck did you learn to suck dick like this?”

He pulls back, winks, “Maybe if you take me out to dinner, I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale.”

“You got a date” Duck dips down to kiss him, then shoves him back into place, grinding his hips harder before cumming with a half-laugh, half-moan. He’s still shaking when he guides Joseph so they’re face to face and kisses him, whispering, “Thanks for that, handsome.”

He doesn’t have time to note that no one’s ever thanked him for blowing them before there’s a thunk of bowls on the nearby table.

“Dinner’s ready.” Barclays cock is visibly throbbing under his scales, but he lets Indrid lead him to a chair, set a bowl next to him, and whisper in his ear with a mischievous grin. The cook nods, and then Indrid is waving Joseph over.

“You really should eat, you barely had any lunch, but Barclay’s been patient. I recommend multitasking.” Indrid pecks their cheeks one after the other, then goes to sit in Duck’s lap.

Joseph lowers himself and rubs their tails together, “Dinner smells delicious.”

“It’s not the only thing.” Barclay rumbles, then shakes his head, “sorry, I’m super-responsive to other mers heats, we, we can just have dinner if you want, you don’t have to-“

“Barclay, you’ve been on my mind for months. I want to.” His tendrils don’t coax so much as demand Barclay’s cock enter him and they moan in tandem as Joseph settles into place.

“Here” Barclay holds up a piece of fresh crab and Joseph eats it from between his fingers. It’s perfect, just like every meal Barclay’s ever made him. He “mmmms” and opens his mouth for another, this time biting Barclays finger before taking it.

“Tall, dark, and handsome, huh?”

The cook blushes, “Yeah. You, gods you’re always so put-together, I’d say this was a dream come true by my brain can only fantasize about you, like, calling me up to your office and sucking you off. Never thought I’d see you heat-crazed and getting fucked by my boyfriend and one of my best friends. Also, it’s so fucking hot” he gives his first sharp thrust up, “to fuck Indrid’s cum back into you.”

“I told you so.” Indrid murmurs from behind them.

Joseph rocks his hips, kissing Barclay’s cheeks and stroking his beard, “Seeing you is the best part of my day; I, um, I even redid my budget so I could come get lunch more often. I almost asked if you wanted to help me with my heat but I, I was worried it’d be overstepping.”

“Nah. Not for my favorite customer.” Barclay kisses his nose.

“Does AHnnnshit,” Barclay’s cock is thick enough to catch all the tendrils, “does this mean I get a discount now?”

“Of course, ten percent off for every blowjob.”

“I’ll be eating for free in no time. Possibly the end, ohfuckyes, of this heat.” He stops, tries to correct, “that’s, um, that’s if you want to see me again after tonight.”

Barclay nuzzles his neck, “I do. Gonna take a wild guess and say those two do too. And in case you think I’m kidding…”

Joseph cums as Barclay bites the opposite shoulder from where Indrid’s mark is still red, the other mer growling as he pumps his hips up into him again and again, refusing to let go until his cum mixes with Indrid’s and Joseph’s shoulder sports a deep purple bruise.

“Holy shit.” Joseph collapses against his chest.

“Better, babe?” Barclay kisses the top of his head.

He looks over his shoulder at where Duck and Indrid are trading increasingly heated kisses.

“Yes, but I’m just getting started…”

Joseph wakes up in an empty bed, his last memory of Duck fucking him while he jacked Indrid and Barclay off, one in each hand.

Maybe they all have work? Maybe they’re hoping he’ll take a hint and leave…

“Mornin Joe” Duck floats in the bedroom doorway, “Barclay asked me to come get you. He’s almost finished packin breakfast up.”

“Oh,for, um, for me to take on the road?”

Duck shakes his head, “for all four of us; ‘Drid showed us drawins from yesterday and we decided we’d like to join you. If, uh, if that’s okay?”

Joseph swims over to take his hand, “it’s perfect.”

[zuffer-weird-girl]

What if kid angel goes to a trip for a week and Kai starts to worry when she said she’s going away and thinks it’s forever he tells pops to drive him to the air port and Chrono tags along and right where she’s about to board he runs to her telling her he’s in love with her and kisses her on the lips and angel tells him she’s gone only for a week

"Huh?"

Was the only thing he could mutter after hearing your words. Even Kurono had stopped midway to take a bite out of his apple after what you had just said.

"Yeah!" You said in enthusiasm, jumping from the bench you were sitting on to talk with the boys you made friendship with "Isn't it nice? Go to America?! I always wondered how New york was anyway, my dad said we are going tommorow!"

"Tommorow?!" He couldn't help but to get up and accidentally shout, making your eyes grow wide as well as Kurono's. He immediately coughed to mask his... shock "Apoligies."

"Not a problem?" You said in uncertain before you saw your mom caming to pick you up "Gotta go now! Sorry Kurono and Chisaki-kun, see you soon!" You waved at then while Kai sat back in the bench, trying to process the new information.

"Send letters from New York!" Hari managed to scream as you gave him a smile while nodding. The boy with white hair looked to his side to found Kai with wide eyes, looking at the ground as if he just had esperience death of someone... that he actually likes.

"Oi?" He waved his hand in front of the boy's face with a worried look "Kai? Hello? You're okay pal?"

He only snapped back to reality when Pops came by to grab the two boys and brung them home...

He couldn't stop thinking about that... You were going away from Japan. Probably forever, and yet you didn't even cared about it? Your expression was one of joy for God's sake! It was as if you didn't cared about the changes, didn't care about the inumerous illness that you could contract on this trip.

... didn't care about him.

He shaked his head at the thought while making his way to his bedroom, dragging his feet on the halls to put his back on the place and change for his nightly routine.

He layed on bed and kept tossing around... The thoughts just wouldn't leave him alone.

Maybe you didn't showed because he himself never showed that he cared enough for you? Maybe it was that... he could only stare at the ceiling, tormenting and even scolding himself to pray that the airpot stopped working or that you and your family missed your airplane...

Could he really let go of the person he loved..? Even knowing that most probably he wouldn't see that smile of yours again so soon...?

Exaustion started to consume him before he give in...

~

Wakening up at the buzz of his phone he took it with a grumble and opened just to widen his eyes at one message of yours. That you were heading to the airplane now.

... that's it. He can't let you go without at least telling you, what if you met some filth and enaged to them? No. Oh HELL no.

He jumped from his bed and for the first time on his life just threw the first clothes he found near his way as he burst the door open, running in the hallways... even making a subbordinate fall on their butt on the floor.

Pausing at the entrance of the kitchen he breathed in and out, not caring about the estate he was in or the looks he was receiving from Kurono and Pops. The elder just in the middle of flipping a pancake fron the fry while Hari just about to drink some orange juice.

"... first time seeing you in a hoodie, you sick?" Kurono qsked more in shock than anything as Pops turn off the stove.

"Fuck off." Kai said immediately, Pops about to question his behaviour went to the elder with a desperate look on those usually bored amber eyes "Pops, I need to go to the airport. This instant."

"What the- What do you want to do on a airport boy?"

"(Y/n) is going away. Please Pops I really need to see her before she leaves for real."

The elder furrowed his eyebrows at the look and how his Chisaki was almost on his knees, pleading him to go to the airport.

"Can i at least change-"

"There's not time!" He exclaimed in annotance as the elder lifted his hands up in false defence as he muttered inumerous 'okay's' while getting out of the kitchen and calling a driver of his with a very anxious Kai on the front.

"You coming Kurono?" The elder asked as Kurono furrowed his eyebrows at his breakfast before witg a dramatic sigh leaving his seat and stuffing his hands on his own white hoodie and tagging along.

~

"CHISAKI WHAT ARE YOU-?!" The elder exclaimed when suddenly Kai opened the door to run towards the entrance of the airport, dodgjng all the people and cars on his way.

When he got in he looked frankly around, huffing and puffing still as he scanned the area for any signs of any girls with (h/c) hair.

When he spotted you far away his body moved before his own mind, running towards you and even cursing a guard when he tried to stop him, jumping and slidding through the ground to prevent to getting caught.

He was close, so he shouted your name... Relieved to see your confused then joy at seing him there before frowing your eyebrows at his state.

"Chisaki-kun?" You spoke in surprise as he stopped in front of you to catch his breath... sweat creeping his forehead making his hives apear... yet he didn't care about that right now "What are you doing in here?"

Just before he could answer, the guard almost catched him if it wasn't for his good reflexes.

"Little brat! You know the rules of thsi place to even get running and shouting like that huh?!"

"For crying out loud do your job instead of giving me a headache." He mumbled before the guard tried to grab him, Pops grabbed his wrist painfully from behind and spoke on a treatening tone of voice.

"Lets talk for a bit will we?"

"Chisaki what's going on-?" Your eyes widened when Kai, the so called mysophobic on the school, grabbed on your shoulders and made you look at him.

"I... I couldn't let you leave forever without telling you that.. That I.." dammit! Where were his words when he needed the most?!

Mentally saying screw it, he brought you close to place a kiss, a very slow but passionate kiss, on your lips. You yelped a biy before slowly melting on his touch.

He parted away with eyes half open as he stared at you before looking at the ground with a frow.

"Just don't... forget about me. You belong to the yakusa now so no american can take you. Got that?... I know im not the most clear with emotions... but I love you. Always had and always will."

Your eyes blinked as your cheeks, already flushed, reddened even more as you coyld only mutter a confused, embarrassed and high pitched 'huh?' in return.

"(Y/n) sweetie. We have to go." Your mom called as your dad cheered on the background.

"Vacations baby! We're going to even taste those hotdogs you saw on the movjes once my little flower!"

"Wait, vacations?" Kai suddenly deadpanned as he looked at you, hands still on your shoulders and even hearing Kurono snicker from behind him.

"W-What do you think it was?" You asked, still surprised with what happened.

"I-"

"Oh I get it." Pops laughed as he yeeted the guard out of his way to pat Kai's head "He thought you were moving, so that's why he was sm desperate to get in here." He messed the boy's hair before he snactched his hand away with a scoff.

"I wasn't." He growled... but his pink cheeks betrayes him completely.

"Dude you put a hoodie and whatever pant you could find. You were almost eben crying to Pops to get us-"

"Shut up before I cut you to pieces with your fucked air Kurono." He growled animalistic at his childhood friend while you muffled your giggles behind your hand.

"Is only for a week. Didn't I mention that?"

"No, you didn't." He glared back at you before chocking at the kiss you gave him before pecking the tip of his nose.

"I am coming back by the ende of this week!" You started to walk away before looking back at a very flustered Kai "Ah! I will keep in touch Kai! I love you too!"

He could die and he would be happy now.

Kurono snickering and Pops laughing behind him didn't helped for his embarrassment as he only grabbed the hem of his hoodie and yanked up to hide his face as he made his way out of the airport.

"Where are you going my boy?" Pops laughed from behind him as he guided the boys to the car "How about tell me more about your girlffriend eh?"

"Quite a miracle since (Y/n) is the opossite of Kai and-"

"SHUT UP!"

[epicspheal]

Alright so I was going to make KBDN Valentine’s day Fic and got a nice case of writer’s block...anyways here’s Raihan/Leon fic courtesy of OTP prompt generator. Please check it out on AO3 Or  Title: Midnight Snack Pairing: Raihan/Leon Word Count: 1260

So much has changed for Leon in the past year. He was no longer champion, having been dethroned in a spectacular battle with Hop’s best friend and rival, Calla. Leon now owned Rose’s tower as well as the league thanks to the now former chairman restarting the Darkest Day "for the sake of Galar" (that may have been the dumbest thing Leon ever heard from Rose who was typically a brilliant man). But best of all, Leon had finally moved in with his boyfriend of two years in his castle. Yes, you read that right, Raihan has a castle. Just small things when you’re dating the Duke of Hammerlocke. Of course Leon still kept his penthouse flat up in Wyndon, but finally getting the ornate key to the private quarters of the Hammerlocke Palace on Valentine’s Day was a huge leap forward in Leon and Raihan’s relationship. Of course the media was speculating on a potential royal engagement soon for Galar’s favorite battle couple, but Leon was trying not to think about it too much...

That being said, Leon had picked up one bad habit over the past year- waking up for midnight snacks. Now that Leon ran the league he could set the meetings (no more 5 am meetings because Rose was an early Delibird). That meant he could go to sleep much later. There was also the fact that the new champ would call him at midnight to meet her at the Wyndon cafe to chat and eat cookies. Leon would soon find out her late night habits came from studying for college tests (he was still in awe that little Calla started uni at eight and graduated with a First Honors Chemistry Degree by the age of 12).

Tonight though, Calla had not called him about a new hypothesis she had or battle strategies, but still the need for chocolate chip cookies and moomoo milk came to Leon all the same. So carefully, Leon got out of the luxurious king-sized bed he now shared with Raihan and tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the spacious kitchen. He was very careful to not make any noise as he knew Raihan was a light sleeper.

He made it to the kitchen quietly, being able to pull out some chocolate chip cookies from the trapinch shaped cookie jar Leon had made for Raihan for Valentine’s day.

“Hmm” Leon said as he inspected cookies “I should warm these up in the microwave!” Oh wait...the microwave is loud as fuck Leon thought as he made his way to the appliance in question that beeping will certainly wake Rai-Rai up.

“I just have to make sure I stop it before it beeps!” Leon said as he popped the cookies in the microwave and set the cook time to 30 seconds. The light in the microwave flashed on as the cookies began to rotate on the turntable as the microwave quietly hummed. 30, 29, 28... Leon’s thoughts began to wander as they always did...first to the new champ Calla. Of course she was popular having defeated him after all, but still many in Galar seemed to view her as illegitimate since she used Eternatus in her battle against him. While it did fit her team given the fact she’s a poison type specialist, Eternatus being the Pokemon who almost destroyed the region, there wasn’t much love for the giant space dragon (affectionately named Hemlock by the new champ). Definitely needed to work on some PR for that. 19, 18, 17… Then there was the matter of book club...Cynthia had a new detective’s novel she wanted her fellow champions to read and Leon couldn’t be more excited. He just needed to find the time to read the book in between his Battle Tower Meetings…

13, 12, 11…

Speaking of the Battle Tower...and the league he now ran, he should probably look into going back to school to his masters of business administration. He wants to manage this right...after all Rose had entrusted him with ensuring Galar’s future before being put behind bars….

9, 8, 7...

Also he needed to go back to Postwick soon. He promised Hop they’d go have a brother vacation soon. Between Leon getting possessed by Eternatus and Hop nearly getting mauled by a raging Zamazenta (who he now owned...Go Hop) both the Villalobos brothers realized that life was short and they needed to spend more time with each other... BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! “ ¡ AH MIERDA!” Leon exclaimed, he got lost in his thoughts again. If the beeping of the microwave didn’t wake Raihan out, then Leon’s ill-timed shout definitely did. Leon sighed heavily as he took the cookies out now nice, warm and soft.

Leon heard the footsteps coming from behind and he whipped around to see softly glowing teal eyes focused on him, the pupils narrowed into slits. If Leon were anyone else, they’d think an actual dragon was staring them down (not that there wasn't a grain of truth to it). But Leon knew his Rai-Rai, and that this was just his just-waking-up face

“Lee”

“Rai-Rai! Lo siento, I was trying to be quiet...I just needed a midnight snack” Leon said quickly “my late night cafe sessions with Calla have gotten to me” Raihan looked down to regard the plate of still steaming cookies in Leon’s hands, his pupils dilating at seeing the snack, before looking up to meet Leon’s golden eyes.

“So my favorite snack is holding a bunch of warm cookies, eh” Raihan said with a smirk, revealing the fangs his family had long developed with their centuries of dragon taming.

“I um oh?” Leon replied intelligently as a blush formed on his face. He called me his favorite snack…

“So are ya going to share those with me?” Raihan asked. To that Leon’s face lit up. “Oh of course!” Leon exclaimed as he shoved the cookies into Raihan’s hand suddenly “Let me go get us some MooMoo Milk”

Leon all but ran to the refrigerator to pull out a jug of milk. He came back to Raihan’s side with two cool glasses of milk. The two decided to sit at the counter and enjoy their milk and cookies “These are so delicious warmed up” Raihan said between bites to which Leon nodded Leon’s thoughts began to drift back to Raihan as they always did. Somehow Leon never thought he’d get this far...having resigned himself to pining silently until two years ago when he finally had the courage to ask Rai-Rai out. Now they were living together. And for the last Christmas, Leon actually got to meet Raihan’s parents, the grand duke and duchess of Hammerlocke.

He knew he shouldn’t give too much credence to the tabloids...but it seemed like the signs were there. That maybe just maybe Raihan would be his forever person. Leon marrying a prince (well duke technically). That just made his heart bounce in his chest…

“Lee” Raihan said, snapping Leon out of his thoughts “whatcha thinking about?” “I love you Raihan” Leon blurted out suddenly. Now it was Raihan’s turn to blush “I just love you so much. And I love this. I never thought we’d be here, sharing cookies and milk at midnight...being an actual couple. It just makes me so happy” “Leon” Raihan said softly “I love you too...I’m so glad we’re living together” Little did the two young adults know...that their little midnight snack dates would become a tradition that would last for decades to come.

[headfulloffantasy]

How to cure a soul

Disclaimer: heavy illness, near death experience, heavy angst Pairing: Reed900 Setting: Human!AU, Hospital!AU, sickfic

@definietlynotsatan inspired me with a headcanon about Doctor!Nines and Patient!Gavin a while back and I just had to write something for it. Thank you so much for the inspiration! This is just something like a draft, but I hope you all like it.

Nines is the best doctor in his hospital. His reputation is widely known, they say nobody has died under his care before. What they don't know is that it's because he is ruthless and only focused on his statistic. He seems really friendly on the outside, but he doesn't really care about his patients or their fates. When he notices that a case is hopeless, he will ditch it and let somebody else take over so that it doesn't show as a death on his record sheet.

Then one day, he gets a patient whose healing potential isn't that bad, but the idiot is really stubborn and uncooperative, a Detective injured on the job. Gavin looks right through Nines' facade and sees that he isn't really invested in Gavin aside from curing him. So he avoids some of the treatment and sabotages Nines along the way, refusing to eat or pulling out tubes because the beeping is getting on his nerves. His only agenda is to piss off Nines as much as possible. Gavin himself just wants to be left alone, he feels lonely and hopeless despite Tina visiting sometimes. Nines is furious of course, how does this jerk dare to act against the best doctor's advises?! It's almost like he doesn't want to get better!

Nines tries to ditch Gavin's case at some point, but he isn't allowed to.

"Jeffrey, how am I supposed to heal someone that doesn't want to be healed?! This is just pointless!"

"I don't know, come up with something for god’s sake! He is the Cyberlife CEO's brother, we are paid a shit ton of money, but for that I have to assign him my best doctor! That's you, Nines. I don't care how you do it, but do it. Heal his soul first, convince him. Make him want to get better."

"Heal his soul, are you kidding me, Jeffrey?!"

"Do I look like I am?"

Nines has to continue looking after Detective Reed. That asshole is really getting on his nerves, if he won’t get better soon, he will fuck up the doctor’s record.

One time, Gavin refuses to eat again and Nines yells at him to shove that food in his mouth already.

"What are you going to do, doctor? Force me to? That wouldn't be good for my healing process, would it?"

Nines desperately tries to calm down and not strangle the stubborn idiot with his stethoscope. When he is outside, he tries some of the hospital food and finds out that it tastes horrible. No wonder Gavin was refusing to eat that shit. When he sees Tina visit someday, he notices a special brand of chocolate bars she brings with her. So the following day, Nines buys one of them and gifts it to Gavin, who at first is really suspicious but then he accepts it.

As the time passes, Gavin manages to open Nines' eyes for the situation of his patients more while Gavin himself becomes calmer and more cooperative. They establish this habit of Nines smuggling in food from outside and he will spend his lunch break in Gavin's room, number 87. At first it is to monitor his patient's eating habit, but soon it becomes his favourite part of the day. They spend their lunch together, sometimes with sushi because Gavin loves it, sometimes with something else, trying out all food opportunities around the hospital. Gavin starts to get better, he eats and accepts treatment. One day, Nines is on his way to a meeting that could be important to him and his career. But as he walks down the hallway, he passes Gavin's room and sees that the man is crying. Silent and it's not obvious at first sight, yet Nines knows him by now. When he enters, Gavin quickly sniffles and wipes away the tears.

"I... have an allergy."

Nines just sits down on the edge of his bed.

"I know your clinical record, Gavin. You don't have any allergies."

That gets both of them smiling a bit.

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" The doctor thinks about it, but then he surprises himself. "Nothing important. Now tell me what's up."

Gavin opens up to him and tells him that he feels lonely. He has a hard time falling asleep due to anxiety. Nines had noticed the dark circles under the man's eyes. Gavin just rambles on and Nines listens, but when the man tears up again, he can't help but reach out and pull Gavin into his arms. He probably shouldn't be doing this as the man is his patient, but fuck it. To distract him, Nines asks about Gavin's life and he gladly tells about his cat and life outside of the hospital and his past. After some time, the Detective gets tired and falls asleep under Nines’ watch. The medical leaves, but he comes back the next day. He works way over his shifts anyway, so he can spend the evening just as well in Gavin's room and it isn’t unusal anymore to find the doctor in room number 87. They will talk and Nines stays until his patient falls asleep, so he doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Every time Gavin wakes up, there is a chocolate bar or a note next to his bed.

Every now and then they will go on a walk outside, though never far as Gavin is still weak. Nines starts to worry, because yes, he accepts Nines' help now, but somehow he isn't really getting better. Losing weight instead of gaining. Gavin doesn't seem to mind, he's just happy to get out of his hospital bed from time to time. They get closer and closer until one day, Gavin decides to kiss Nines.

“Stop frowning and kiss me.”

The medical complies gladly and leans down for their lips to meet, clinging to Gavin with his dear life. He has fallen so hard for that stubborn idiot, the man is the first person he is genuinely worried about. Nines knows he has to find a way to heal Gavin, this time for him as a person and not as a number on Nines' record sheet. But he feels like his repertoire is at its end. Gavin tries to calm him of course and Nines wants to believe him, but there still is that feeling in his stomach. He feels so guilty because he knows that a few months back, he would have ditched Gavin's case now.

The next day Nines comes to work and wants to visit Gavin in his room to say good morning, though when he enters, he immediately sees the red alarm in one of the rooms. Number 87. The blood freezes in his veins.

Nines runs there as fast as he can and when he enters, the room is already full of medical staff trying to revive the man he grew to love. The doctor almost can't bear the sight of Gavin's limp body getting electroshocked and that horrible sound of a heart flatlining.

Nines rushes towards Gavin and pushes away the people standing around the bed. He takes over and while trying to revive Gavin, he screams at him that he isn't allowed to leave, that he can't leave Nines behind. Tears run down his face and cloud his vision.

“Open your eyes, Gavin, please! You- you can’t leave me like this! Come back to me, I beg you!”

And Gavin does. He comes back to life with a sharp inhale and coughs while the screen slowly goes back to steady beeps. Nines can't hold himself back from pulling the man into his arms and he weeps like a child. There are shaky arms wrapping around him, drawing soothing circles on his back. Of course Gavin would care for him, even though the Detective just barely escaped death.

At a control screening, they find out that Gavin has a tumour that had been unnoticed before. That's what impeded his healing process and ate away at him. The other doctors offer him a chemotherapy, but it's his decision to make. Gavin asks them to leave Nines and him alone, because he sees how stunned the other is looking. He knows the percentages for recovering from cancer. He has treated this condition all his life.

"Hey Nines, you okay?"

Nines can't suppress the small sad smile. Gavin is always caring for others first, although it should be Nines supporting the Detective now and not the other way around. He can’t help the panic creeping up in him though and his hands are shaking. Immense guilt rolls over him, mixed with overwhelming fear and sorrow. The medical knows he would have ditched Gavin's case here a few months back as he would see it hopeless. A hopeless case not worth looking into more. But now he wants to stay and fight and he begs Gavin to fight as well. The Detective hugs him tight when he starts crying again.

"Nines, I want to go home-"

"No, Gavin, no, please don't do that to me, I almost lost you once, I can't ... I just can't-" Gavin interrupts him with pressing his lips on Nines’. The contact immediately soothes the taller man and he melts into the kiss, salty from his own tears.

"I will fight, don't worry. I will do everything you say, no matter how much it sucks. But I want to get home, Nines. I am sick of hospitals."

That is something the doctor can accept. They decide that with Nines’ help, Gavin can get back home and come to the hospital to get his treatment. Nines stays with him and basically moves in to assist the Detective with his daily tasks. Gavin introduces him to his cat he had told him so much about. Nines takes time off to care for the Detective and help him at home and to get to where he has to be. As he never really took a vacation before, the doctor has a lot of days left and Fowler helps him get off from work for the duration of Gavin needing help.

So the treatment goes on and Nines stays.

They become a real couple, going through good phases and really shitty ones. But Gavin doesn't have to go through them alone anymore. Nines cooks for him, cares for the cat, they will watch movies all day snuggling in bed and of course Nines helps him when shit gets bad and Gavin gets sick. But they make it through it together. And slowly but steady, Gavin gets better, becoming stronger and gaining weight day by day. Despite puking and the side effects that freaking suck, Gavin is the happiest he has been in a long time. There is someone holding him at night, someone he wakes up to in the morning, snoring next to him. He is so in love that he feels like he can get through everything. Yes, the rest sucks and sometimes he doesn't stop cursing at how miserable he feels. But Nines is right there with him.

They are on a good way and Gavin gets better and better, beating the cancer. His hair is slowly growing back and Nines is really fascinated. Yes, he knew the man used to have a beard, but he never knew how HAIRY Gavin was. Scruff along his jaw and cheeks, soft fluff on chest, arms, legs, head and a bit on his stomach. Nines adores it, always letting his palm caress over the flimsy hair when they lie in bed. It makes Gavin laugh and he tilts his head to place a gentle kiss on Nines’ lips.

"Yes, I am prickly, not as baby butt smooth as you are." the Detective teases with a weird wink.

Nines has to admit that this was exactly the side of Gavin he fell so hard for. His rough but kind personality, the charm of all his sharp edges. With a swift move, the Detective turns them around, arms pulling Nines closer. He has regained a lot of strength over the last weeks and Nines feels himself blush at how easy the man shifts him around. He lets his fingers roam through the short strands of hair on Gavin's head and the Detective closes his eyes with a pleased hum.

"I know." Nines whispers as their hands lace together. "And I love it. I love you."

[bebaexoexo]

Shit Oh Sehun did only in the first half of 2019

because I gave up and this list is way too long already why is this boy such a mess also it's not basically 2021

His team in exo arcade kept losing so he sulked (baby had to be comforted by his hyungs)

Refused to wear potective gear and made his hyungs worry

Acted cute as a punishment for losing exo arcade

Billboard master sehun

Somehow convinced ksoo to wear a cute birthday hat

Boyfriend insta live with ksoo on his birthday

Red suit at smtown wow

EXO LADDER ANTICS (@exo2018subs youre doin great things for the fandom uwu)

"There are no cameras here... are there cameras here?" Says in a room full of cameras

Jongdae "shrimp fishing"

Sehun "sehun fishing?"

Cuddles his giant self on baekhyuns tiny shoulders

LA Vacation time with suho

Kai KNEADING sehuns knee on tv

ROUGEFASHIONBOOK

PCY "Sehun-ah"

Sehun "whose this?"

Convinces the members to take a punishment because he just wants them to

Members "why should we?"

Sehun "because youre my members"

Sehuns laugh

Chanyeol gave up his solo stage because he wanted to perform 'we young' w/ hunnie

Ksoo wants to travel with hunnie more ahhh

"Ive told exo-ls this before, 'i hope that you all will find what you want', and that's what I wanted to say to the hyungs too"

MADAME FIGARO

Constant insta lives of him being VIVIs dad

Sehun throughout Coffee friends 'i love this, i like this, this is nice yea i like thi-'

Vivi *ignoring him in every livestream*

Sehun 'oh wow so handsome. Guys vivi is so great look at him'

Sehun *finally joins the ladder*

The rest of exo *standing ovation*

Sehun *sees his hyungs* *rolls on the ground*

'I like it fairy' on Coffee friends

Ate half the tangerines he was supposed to peel on Coffee friends

Couldnt understand why everyone wanted a big fancy room to themselves as a reward on Exo ladder

Won the biggest fanciest room for himself

Desperarely begged members to sleep with him, too scared to sleep by himself

'Anyone who wants to sleep with me has to jump in the water'

'Ksoo hyung if you jump into the water you can have my bed'

'Ah im going crazy x1000'

'Guys im really scared. Are you sleeping on your own? Can you do it?'

'Okay rock paper scissors and the winner sleeps with me'

'IM GOING HOME THEN'

Finally suho gave in coz he felt bad for his little baby. i cant hes too much

Used pool water to tidy his hair, baekhyun 'wahh a real man'

'I have a feeling ill win 300 000won, I know it, everyone watch me I just know wow'... wins the least amount of food allowance

Pretend to know all about deers at a deer farm but then started screaming and running away scared as soon as they got close

Members kept stealing his answers in capture the moment so he just melted into the sofa, stomping his foot, screaming at the camera. RIP Hint Fairy

After begging someone to sleep with him...

Sehun @ Suho: 'I'm sorry but dont touch me or I'm sending you to the floor' *play fighting* 'ah fuck it I love you'

'I suddenly want to become a fish"

Suho 'whales are so smart...they have IQ of about 60-90... very similar to Sehun I think' *que Sehun pulling faces and making noises at the whales*

Bet all his allowance in order to get wanton noodles -> lost, and then bet 2 wishes (pds make him do whatever) and lost twice more... left with nothing

Starts drinking from bath pools just because they're called wine and beer

Okay but Sehun just being an actual child playing the pools in exo ladder and laughing and messing around just warmed my heart so much

Pranked poor leader Suho by constantly putting shampoo in his hair while he was showering. Suho ended up trying to wash it out for half an hour like 'why wont the shampoo stop!?'

When the activity and healing team split on the last day of Exo ladder... 'even without Chanyeol and Jondae theres not much of a difference' LOL

Kai 'sit down and cook the food'

Sehun 'you know I have a standing up illness'

Kai 'attention seeking illness?'

Sehun 'yes'

Suho delivering a very deep and emotional reflection, Sehun falls asleep

LADDER

Sehuns charming points according to xiumin 'tall, handsome and cute'

New nickname 'Chip' aka little baby teacup

Giggly cute reuinion with Mina @ seoul fashion week

Brought his most expensive champagne for xiumins housewarming

Starts appreciating cooks after 25 years of life just because he made tteokbokki one time

Another insta V Live with VIVI or just... Vi coz half of vivis fluff was shaved off

Went to support JD for his solo with ksoo hyung

Recommended Peter Pan to Exo-L's for their 7th anniversary

Spends ages looking at sunglasses and posing in a shop but leaves with a lollipop

Q: 'Whats Exo-L to Exo?'

Sehun: 'if y0u kNoW iT alr3Ady tHen why'Re you asKinG'

According to Chen, Sehun is the driving force of Exo uwu

Won 'overseas male artist' @ the weibo awards

Omg but Ohsehunbars birthday project for sehun. A party at an aquarium WITH MERMAIDS

Sehun:

EXO-L:

Coex artium for sehuns birthday: (눈_눈)

Solo choki performance at dne's concerts

Topped "April 2019 Netizens Favourite Magazine Cover" hosted by Weibo for his Cosmopolitan China cover

SHIRTLESS SEHUN IN THE HAWAII PHOTOBOOK

Okay but OT9 being together on Xiuweet time did something to my heart

When asked to say something to xiumin as a goodbye 'I have a soft heart so I'll probably cry too'

Sehun cracking jokes and being a strong little brother for a stadium full of sobbing fans and hyungs

Volunteered at a children's home, Sunduk Home, for children's day and danced to Love Shot

UM APPARENTLY EXO-CS IS HAPPENING?

*uploads an Exo-CS spoiler on instagram*

Yeol: 'ya take that doing the company's gonna scold us'

Sehun being a lil bitch: 'no turning back now'

Okay but EXO-CS IN WKOREA!?

Chanyeol uploads a picture of him and Sehun from WKorea...

Sehun 'if you upload a picture of my face without my permission you'll be in trouble'

Met Donald Trump

Joint dad live streams with chanyeol and their sons Toben and vivi

Just Sehun with meerkats and racoons

Was supposed to cook with chanyeol but kept eating all the ingredients instead

Username 'Sehuns Anus' makes a 2019 comeback

[rosierocks30]

Hidden: Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Always and Forever 

(Eve)

Eve or Natasha was staring at the amber liquid drink in her mug. She had been into deep sorrow of heartbreak. Ever since he left, she hasn’t left the room. Today, it was my first time being out of the room since that day. Natasha couldn’t tell what day it was. To her, it felt like years had passed by. Maybe this was for the best. They both are generations apart. She’s from the future and Eren is from here. What business does she have here anyways? The grey eyed woman should focus on trying to get back her timeline before encountering her grandmother or grandfather. Shit, if grandpa Levi finds out, she’ll get a beating in their spars. 

Eve took a sipped from her mug. She sighed then pulled out some change to pay the ale. The Ackerman from the future couldn’t enjoy her beer. Once she paid, the woman started to walk away to who knows where. 

Her life before ending up in the past was basically what the life of an New Yorker heiress was. There were parties, going to the best prestigious private schools, and of course any high class social events. It was every debutante’s dream. She never liked it but it was her medicine in dealing with her ill grandmother and her PTSD. 

Natasha remembered that tragic day when she lost her mother and baby brother. Her father had died a year before their death. He was an assassin like their ancestors were before. When she was a little girl, Eve had wanted to follow her father’s footsteps including her grandfather’s, but they never allowed. It had frustrated her. Both her grandparents had told her to just be a normal girl with careless dreams and living life to the fullest. Whenever she had visited Paradis during her vacations, there were many arguments between her and grandpa Levi and grandma Historia. They see things way differently than her. At first, she doesn’t get why they are preventing her from choosing the path she wanted to take. 

The last time she saw them, a huge fight had led their relationship delicately. 

(Flashback) 

It was a normal evening in the palace. She was spending time with her grandparents and her aunts and uncle along with her younger cousins. Everyone was enjoying their meal. Usually the kitchen staff cooked their meals, but tonight her grandmother Queen Historia decided to cook. At one time, the staff gave up in preventing her grandmother from doing anything, especially cooking. 

“Natasha, I’m so happy that you decided to make time to visit us from your studies at the University.” Her grandmother, Historia began to speak. 

The young woman glanced up at her grandmother. Queen Historia was in her late 50’s about to reach her 60’s soon. Her grandma still has her angelic beauty that she was known for as her age hasn’t ruined her beauty. Her blonde hair shined with some silver strands but she was still a goddess, well in the eye’s of the public. 

“Well, I need to be away from the city life in NYC for a while.” The American sipped her wine. She heard a familiar scoff from the head of the table on the right. Her grandfather, the once famous Captain Levi Ackerman of the Survey Corps and Assassin Master of the Brotherhood Paradis stared at her. Natasha frowned then set her glass of wine with a bit of force. 

“Ok, what now, grandpa?” Her tone sounded annoyed from her own grandfather’s attitude. 

“I’m not stupid for the real reason you decide to come to visit all of the sudden.” Levi glared at her oldest granddaughter. Oh great, here we go again. The college student rolled her eyes at him since she knows where this is going. 

“Praise tell oh dear grandfather.” Her sarcastic tone was showing. Now, the rest of the family groaned as they knew there would be a fight between Levi and Natasha. 

Historia sighed but continued sipping her wine. Levi was now in his 70s. His face had aged well even though he had scars on his face during the war.His once raven hair was now grey. No matter how he looked, Historia had and always will love her husband. They both had gone through so much that their bond was too solid to be broken. There were times in their marriage, both older couples did unthinkable things that would have caused their relationship to end. But their love story will be known for centuries.

“You came here not because of your studies. Instead, you’re here from another scandal you decided to get away from. You can lie to us, but your grandmother and I know what happened in New York.” Levi said in a stern tone which the atmosphere became heavy. 

Before Natasha could say anything, her uncle interrupted the conversation. 

“Dad, I don’t think it’s the best time right now. The children are here.” her uncle reminded Levi that the younger kids are here listening to this argument. Natasha adores her uncle since he was the most understanding out of his siblings. Her aunts are a bit too modesty. They always reminded her to be ladylike with modest manners. Do her wrong she loved all her family, but they always find something that’s not up to their standards. It just drives her so insane. The only reason she is still visiting them because they are the only thing close to her father, Atticus Ackerman the eldest child of her grandparents.

It’s not her fault that she was raised in a society that you can express freely to be who you are. But in her case, she can be a bit too wild even her grandma Virginia Stark nee Potts aka Pepper, the CEO of Stark Industries. In a way, her nana had once told her she was just like her grandfather, the late Tony Stark who she had never got to meet. What she learned about him. He was wild, eccentric, very intelligent that he had the tendencies of hacking into governments top projects to benefit his cases when he gets into trouble or just cause. After all, her being a smart mouth had always ended up into an argument with Levi as he’s the type not taking anyone’s bullshit even hers. 

“Tch. We’ll have to cut this family dinner short. Natasha, you will meet me and your grandmother in my office in 10 minutes.” He said as his chair was pushed back to get up. He glanced at his wife who nodded at him and got up too. They walked out of the dining room. Now only her uncle, aunts, cousins were still here. 

“Tsk tsk niece. If you would have acted a lady not a hussy-” Aunt Frieda Ackerman said. Uncle Erwin hissed at his older sister. “Frieda that’s enough! What’s got into?” 

Frieda scoffed then got up and called her son who’s 10 years old to follow her. The little blonde child obediently goes after his mother. Meanwhile Natasha was looking at her meal from trying not to lose control and snapped at her auntie. Her other aunt had been too quiet. The good thing, she’s not too bad compared to her Aunt Frieda. Aunt Krista finally broke her silence. 

“Sweetheart, she doesn’t mean that. She’s just worried about you.” Her blonde aunt was always the peacekeeper in the family. Her hand was on her huge belly as she’s not that long to be due. Her husband, Aaron Arlert, one of brightest soldiers in his generation and the son of the late Commander Armin Arlert of the Survey Corps and Master Assassin; his wife former Marley’s Warrior and Assassin Master who died long ago too. Both of them had passed on due to the Titan’s curse. Her auntie is excited for her first child. 

“Are you sure? She seems so convinced I’m ruining our family’s reputation again. She needs to stop being so bitter around everyone just because of her marriage problems.” Natasha mumbled. Both her uncle and aunt gave a disappointing look as it was uncalled for her to bring up Frieda’s marriage issue with some high class dickhead who happens to be a Marleyan. Natasha believes her estranged uncle is only using her aunt because she’s a princess, the next heir to the throne. By law, it was supposed to be Natasha as she’s the only surviving child of the late crowned Prince Atticus. Since the government officials had passed a law to prevent her from taking the throne after her grandmother either abdicated  the throne or passed away. 

To be honest, she doesn’t want the throne. If she chooses between the throne or being the next CEO of Stark Industries then she’ll prefer being the next CEO. If there was a third choice it’s neither. The Eldian-American wanted to find her own path. She doesn’t like her future being planned for her. She’s a free-spirited woman, but to certain relatives apparently she’s a rebel brat. 

“Natasha.” He scolded at his niece. Natasha sighed and got up from her chair. “Goodnight by the way if I don’t get to see you for the rest of the night.” Before leaving she goes to hug her twin cousins from her uncle who are around 7 years old. Both boys hugged her back and said goodnight as she finally walked out of the family dinning room. 

The brunette walked through silent hallways which in her opinion it gave her the creeps sometimes. Some halls have guards on duty. The heiress just ignores them since her grandparents are probably waiting for her to scold. Ugh! She’s passed 18 and yet; they treat her like some misbehaving kid. Whatever had happened on the video was not what it seems. The media loves to fuck her over since she’s a royal and a Stark. They enjoyed milking out every ‘scandal’ she has been in.

The grey eyed heiress made it to the doors of grandpa’s office. The old man had been retired for a long time after the war. Seriously, why can he find some hobby instead of getting up on her case. She grabbed the handles to open the doors. Her grandparents are already sitting down while sipping their cup of tea. 

“Tch. Finally, you were taking your time to get here.” Levi said as he set his cup of tea on the coffee table. 

She rolled her eyes at his comment then went to sit on the couch to glance at both older couples. Her eyes landed on the already cold cup of tea for her to drink. The heiress doesn’t mind since it’s basically drinking iced tea without sweetening or added flavor. She waited for them to speak while sipping the cup. 

Historia took a glimpse at Levi then back to her granddaughter. “Sweetheart, we’re worried for you. This is not just any light scandal you have been in. This scandal involved you and some man being taped while having sex. Of all the things, this I can’t tolerate anymore of your wild party life. You forget you’re a royal and a member of the Ackerman clan.” 

The younger Ackerman wanted to scream from the frustration she felt. That tape was not how they think it happened. She didn’t know the guy was filming her. It's a crime for what that asshole did, but of course they don’t understand. Her grandparents are from different generations with different perspectives than hers. 

Don’t they understand how this made her feel? On that morning, she was watching tv at her apartment eating cereal when the headlines started to show. She felt sick and betrayed. How could he do this to her? The guy, Darren, is nice and charming. She thought he was different. Nope, her taste in men is like a pattern of bad karma. Natasha had texted him but didn’t respond. When she decided to go to his place, he was busy entertaining some friends. Oh the rage in her came out. She made everyone leave and once it was just her and him; there were arguments and some plates thrown at him. Low key she could have given an old Ackerman ass kicking, but that would lead to getting arrested.

After the drama, she didn’t come out of her apartment due to paparazzi and noisy people. Her poor grandmother was expecting her to visit. It was too much to the point her PTSD returned. Her psychiatrist suggested she go to the safest place for her. So she packed up to spend some time with her paternal grandparents and prayed they would listen and understand her what she was going through. Sadly, none of those didn’t happen. Her other grandmother doesn’t know yet. She made sure it keeps it that way. The heiress doesn’t want her nana to get distress since her cancer has returned and is becoming worse. Now, all she hears was their rants as she zoned out from all these events had happened. 

“Natasha? Natasha? Are you even listening?” Historia tried to get her granddaughter’s attention. 

“Oi, brat. Answer your grandmother.” He used his infamous authoritative tone. The college girl snapped and glanced at both of them. 

“You know, only Uncle Erwin had asked me how I was feeling. He listened to what really happened and didn’t judge me. Both of you, had not once asked me how I am feeling since the scandal was broken. I was hoping my family would be a bit understanding and listen to me because I would never sink myself to that. All I got here was I should be ashamed of myself or take responsibility. And guess what, I had been feeling ashamed and disgusted because the whole world saw me exposed and it was without my consent. If this conservation will lead to more scolding and family’s reputation then I’m done here.” She gets up to roughly palace the cup on the saucer then walks to the doors to open. The heiress slammed the doors. 

Fuck everything here. If she can go somewhere to be safe and herself, then it will help her not to lose insanity. Natasha didn’t feel her tears were falling. The heiress kept going until she was outside in the royal private garden. The distressed girl sat on the bench to let the tears become sobs. 

“Mom...Dad..if you were still alive, would you believe me? Would you understand me when I need it the most? I’m just tired of everything. I missed you both…” The brown haired woman whispered as her eyes stared up at the stars. 

Natasha loved to be in the garden whenever she’s alone. It’s helped her clear her thoughts and calm her emotions. Right, in front of her a mini section of lavenders. It was her 16th birthday present. Its scent was soothing and relaxing. They’re one of her favorite flowers along marigold and winter roses. While enjoying the stars and the flowers, her phone rang. She pulled out from her pocket jeans and answered. 

“Hey Stella, what’s wrong?” her tone instantly changed to concerning. 

On the phone a woman who’s one of her friends and coworkers for S.H.I.E.L.D. “Hey Natasha, I know you’re on vacation but you need to come back. The Time machine had not been working.” Stella said on the phone. 

“Have you tried rebooting or shutting down the machine?” Natasha said, trying to figure out the solution. 

“Yes, I did it a few times. Also, I add fuel before doing anything. I need it to have it running by tomorrow.” Stella said with anxiousness. 

“Just send me the data on my phone and I’ll check it out what’s the problem. If it’s something too serious, I’ll fly back to the Headquarters to fix it.” Already, browsing her phone to check the data that was being sent to her. 

On her mother’s side, she got the brains, but on her father’s side the physique of a fighter. Growing up without alive parents had made her determined to learn to be prepared to protect herself and any loved ones that matter to her. The heiress had joined S.H.I.E.L.D around after high school. At first, she was stubborn to be part of the next generation of the Avengers until Director Maria Hill gave her old videos of her late grandfather, Tony Stark aka Ironman. 

Beside being named after one of the original members, Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow, also gave her another reason to join. Both of them had made sacrifices to save the planet and the population. The least she could do was to honor them and not to let their death be in vain. 

After searching up to find any problem that was causing the machine not working, Natasha sighed and called back Stella. 

“Hey Stella, it’s a bigger problem than we thought. I’ll catch a flight asap. I’ll see you later then.” Once the call was over, the woman got up to go back to the palace to pack up to leave 

By the time she got to her room packing up, a knock was heard. “Come in.” She said. 

Historia opened the door to enter then closed it. “Natasha...we owed you an apology.” The queen noticed her granddaughter packing up her things. 

“Are you planning to go back home already?” She was concerned. 

“Yeah, there’s an emergency that needs me.” the heiress sounded vague.

“Oh dear, is Pepper getting worse?” Historia frowned from being worried for the older woman.  

“No and thank god it’s not that emergency. I just need to go.” The truth was only nana knew about Natasha being part of the Avengers. If her Eldian grandparents were aware, they would become overprotective and prevent her from joining. It’s best this remains a secret plus she’s a grown woman who can make decisions. 

“Honey, if your leaving became the argument earlier, we are sorry. Please don’t leave. We’ll hear your side of the story in the morning.” The blonde queen pleaded with her only granddaughter to stay. Historia had missed her. They may have differences, but her love for her is big as the rest of the family. Her fear was seeing her granddaughter going into a dark path. 

Natasha sighed as she finished packing. “It’s not a fight, grandma.” 

“Then what is it?” She said as trying to understand Natasha. She has become very mysterious and distant towards everyone except her only remaining son and her youngest daughter, Kuchel who is taking an internship in Hizuru for political foreign affairs as her major. To the rest, Natasha shuts them out. 

“It’s just work. A colleague of mine called me and said that they found some documents but it’s in some ancient language they haven't seen.” The heiress said. 

“Can they send it to you through your phone or laptop?” Historia said. 

“No, they are old and ancient so they’re fragile. I will have to look at them closer and decode into English.” The young woman hated lying to her grandmother. If she told her the truth, more drama would erupt and right now; the young Ackerman wasn’t in the mood for another drama. 

Of course, Historia felt her granddaughter was not being honest to her, but she will let it slide. Maybe after she comes back, they will talk about it. 

“Alright then. Do you need the driver to take you to the airport?” Historia offered her help. 

“Yeah that would be appreciative. Thank you, grandma.” The dark haired woman said. 

After she left the palace, Natasha arrived at the International airport. The heiress got through security measurements until she finally entered her terminal where the plane awaits for passengers. She goes find her seat number. As Natasha Ackerman took her seat, a man who was already seated by the window had taken a glance at her. The heiress was minding her own business until she saw the man staring at her. 

“May I help you?” She said annoyingly. If this is some under covered paparazzi, she’ll throw him out of the window. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you.” He went back to reading his book.

The brunette also went back to reading but she took another quick glance at the man which by the way, he was hot. He probably has long hair since it was tied into a bun only a few strands of hair sticks out from the forehead. The one thing that caught her attention was his emerald green eyes. 

For hours the flight was boring. Not once has that hot guy haven’t started a conversation. She probably made a bad impression. She made a yawning sound since dawn is about to rise soon. The heiress can take a couple hours nap before the plane arrives at her destination. Her eyes slowly closed as she fell asleep. While in a deep sleep, her head slowly leans to lay on the hot stranger’s shoulder. A light deep chuckle was heard along a few words. 

“Always and forever, Eve.” Natasha doesn’t know whether it was a dream or not. The way it sounds had made her feel safe and sound. It was the best two hour nap she ever had. When she woke up, almost everyone was gone including the hot guy. She was about to get up, but the woman saw a winter rose on her lap. The heiress picked it up and smelled the rose. This strange man was mysterious and smooth. Whoever was this guy, he made her day. 

(End flashback)

Eve had looked back from the events that lead to now. The time machine that she helped to make it work had glitched which sent her to this era. Luckily, it was in Paradis, but it was the time where this side of the world was going through a huge change that caused a huge war. She remembered World History about Eldian history along with those affected. What’s worse is that she encountered and fell in love with one of the notorious historical figures, Eren Jaeger. The brunette let out a frustrating scream then kicked the poor little rock on the ground. 

“Damn you, Eren. Why did you have to walk into my life?” She sighed. How long had she been here? Weeks? Months? It felt like years and Eve just missed home where she can cuddle up in her bed while eating coffee flavor ice cream with oreos while watching some cheesy romantic movies on Netflix. 

She saw a group of people with green caped hoods. The Ackerman from the future quickly hides within the trees. The heir decided to climb up to hide better. As she was about to grab the branch close to her reach, it snapped which she fell from the tree. Eve closed her eyes to wait for the hard fall. Instead, she opened her eyes to see a very familiar green eyes. 

“Eve, you should be careful. These woods are dangerous. What are you doing here by the way?” Eren said while carrying her in bridal style. 

The heiress realized Eren had caught her from falling. This feels awkward and painful. His hurtful words were still fresh on her mind. She glared at him then scoffed. 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you so I would appreciate it if you would put me down.” She said with a cold tone. 

Eren wasn’t amused with her coldness towards him. After all, he did leave things on bad terms. “Did you follow me? Damn you woman. You just can’t take a hint of rejection.” 

Oh no. He did not just say that. Natasha’s pride begins to boil with rage. That asshole has some nerves.

“Excuse me? Like hell, I would follow you! Seriously, are you this much of a dick? You know what. I’m just gonna leave.” She humped, then turned around to leave. Eren stopped her by grabbing her arm. 

“Hey, wait. It’s best to come with us since you’ll get yourself lost here.” She glanced at him annoyingly. 

“I can handle myself, thanks.” She said stubbornly. 

“Eve, I’m serious. I don’t want you to be alone in the woods especially when we’re at war.” His tone had become a bit aggressive due to her stubbornness. 

“Why do you care? You left me at the inn. You made it clear that all I was someone to warm up your bed.” Tears were threatening to come out, but she was holding in. 

“I care enough for an innocent being in the crossfire when shit goes down.” Eren said. 

“How fucking noble you are?” She said sarcastically. 

Eren grunt from her attitude. Without saying much, he gripped her arm to drag her to where the Garrison and MPs soldiers were making campgrounds for the night. 

“Hey, let go! Eren, where are you taking me?” She was trying to free herself from his strong grip. 

“You ask too much.” He grumbled. They reached the campsite. 

“Jaeger! Who do you have here?” One of the garrison soldiers shouted as they were spotted. 

The heiress gave up the struggle as Eren took her. “Just a bratty acquaintance that I know back at Trost.”  This made her scoffed at him. 

“Oh hello there, dollface. I’m Rick. What’s your name?” Great. This random soldier is hitting on her. She was about to say something, but Eren beats to it. 

“She doesn’t like being called a dollface.” Eren was getting irritated. 

“But I don’t mind introducing myself. Hello there, I’m Eve. it’s nice to meet you.” Her tone became too flirty for Eren already glaring at her. She finally jerks her arm off from his grip. 

Rick blushed from Eve’s bold gesture. “That’s a pretty name.” 

Eve gave one of her man-eating smirk. “You don’t mind showing me around the campsite, soldier.” She wrapped her arms around the garrison soldier’s arm which he gladly led her to the campsite leaving a very moody Eren behind.  

(Eren)

Oh the inner conflict he’s struggling with not grabbing Eve and claiming those addictive lips. This isn’t just a cute jealousy that he usually gets. This is the angry jealousy. Damn her, she definitely can get him under his skin. Eren closed his eyes as he took a deep breath to calm down. 

“Don’t lose it. Fight.” He mumbled to himself. 

Eren started walking. Connor stopped him. “What’s wrong? You look like a bobcat ready to attack.” 

“It’s nothing. I just have a headache.” The titan shifter walked away. Connor glanced to see the strange girl talking to the fiery red hair soldier. 

While Eren was walking to start making his tent, a cough sound was heard behind him. He turned around to see it was Commander Dok. 

“Oh hello Commander Dok. Is there something you need to talk about?” Eren gave his attention to the Commander of the Military Police. 

“Yes. Matter in fact, why did you bring a stranger to our secret campsite? We don’t know if the girl is a spy for the invaders. Her accent is not from here or even Marley. I know you want to redeem yourself for the betrayal and the atrocities you have caused in Marley. You’re making it difficult to have my complete trust in you and it’s not just me feeling this way. Commander Rico Brzenska of the Garrison branch also had her mistrust with you.” Niles said. 

“Commander, I understand you and Brzenska are on edge, especially the templars that took over the island. Eve is not a spy I assure you. She probably followed me since we left on bad terms. She’s harmless. Both of you have nothing to worry about.” Eren took a glimpse at his ex who was still being too friendly with the other soldier. 

Niles sighed and nodded. “She’s your responsibility if she does anything suspicious, Jaeger.” 

Eren nodded in response. “Of course, sir.”  

Niles walked away to let the titan shifter finish setting his tent. Again, the Eldian man took a sneak peak at the spunky woman. She was finally alone which it ease his agonizing heart. He knew this was his fault for leaving her after the promises he told her in their pillow talks. Eren felt the guilt for breaking her heart as the scene of her reaction when he told her off. 

It’s like the Path pulled them together. He can try to distance himself from her, but in the end she will always be in his thoughts. When he met her, Eren was frustrated and distracted. His distraction became curiosity to finally get to know her. Eren quickly focused back on his tent as Eve glanced back at him. Both are stubborn when it comes to their relationship dynamics. He always was the strong, protective alpha hero while as for her; she was playful, fun, and loving. There was another side of Eve that he noticed in their weeks of being together. 

The sky started to get a bit dark as the sun slowly set on the horizon. Rico Brzenska glanced at the new girl. 

“You. Go be useful and bring firewood.” She ordered Eve which the heiress became annoyed but got up to go into the deeper woods. 

“Jaeger, go make sure she does it.” Rico said to Eren who already started walking to follow Eve into the deep woods. 

Eren kept walking on the thin path of the woods as it gets dense the further he’s away from the campsite. The woods looked lush green with trees and old huge trunks that laid on the ground for centuries covered in green plants and wildflowers. The moist made the temperature drop a bit cooler, but to the titan shifter it doesn’t bother him. He was getting irritated from not finding his girl- no, she’s not his...anymore. 

“Where is she?” He whispered then a familiar purple skirt caught his attention. He turned to spotted Eve picking up a couple of sticks. Slowly, Eren walked towards her. 

Eve was aware Eren was tailing after her. She gets up and pretends he doesn’t exist. It only took a few steps for the atmosphere to change between them. Eren felt his predator desiring his prey. All she was a manipulative, promiscuous, vixen. Eren may be the type to get mad easily, but with her it was another level. He remembered earlier the way she flirted with Richie or was it Ricky? He doesn’t care to know about the soldier’s name. Eren watched her pace speed up  until she sprint into running. She had dropped the sticks to speed further. Eren ran after her. The adrenaline of chasing her made his bloodstream pump more. 

Eren smirked when Eve trip but recovered from placing her hand on the tree. Her breathing was shallow from the running. He was already behind her pressing his chest on her back which she became stiff. 

“I know what you were trying to do earlier with that soldier.” His voice became raspy. He can hear her heart beating faster. His warm breath tickling her ear and neck. 

The heiress bit her lips from not letting out a single moan or sound. Oh god, he’s making it harder to hate him. Of course, she can’t hate him. He’s always known how to drive her crazy for him. How his sexy voice made her panties ruin. She let her eyes closed to continue listening to his godly husky tone.  

“You have been pissing me off, baby. Trying to make me jealous huh?” A growl had escaped from his lips. 

“Trying? I had no intention of making you jealous.” Eve finally speaks. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Eve. I know you. I gotta give it to you. You’re persistent. There’s one question that’s bothering me the most.” He said

“What would that be?” She said. 

“Why didn’t the power of the Founding Titan work on you to erase your memories of me?” Eren had that question from the back of his mind since he caught her from falling from the tree. 

Eve had stayed quiet again. She is trying so hard to not want to answer that question. It should affect her since she has Eldian blood in her. Unless, she is a descendant of the Ackerman clan like Mikasa and Captain Levi. 

“I want you to be honest with you, Eve.” He tried to change his tone to softer for her. All she did was laugh like it was the funniest joke. 

“Honest? You are a funny guy to be demanding me to be honest with you, Eren Jaeger.” Her grey eyes glared dangerously in a way that’s familiar to him again. 

“Ever since I met you, you haven’t been honest with me either. You didn’t want to tell me of your plans whenever you claimed you had meetings to go. Recently, you have been pinning me on the tree because you got possessive of me. For a man who claims to have no feelings for me; this shouldn’t bother you whether who I flirt with.” Both lock their eyes in a staring contest. 

“So if you want me to be honest then you fucking better stop with your bullshit of pushing and pulling my heart. I know you still love me and feel that desire just as much I feel for you. Eren, whatever this secret it is, I will share your burden. I love you so much that I don’t want you to feel alone in this secret plan you needed to do. Maybe, I can offer you another alternative if you need it.” Now, her tone became compassionate. 

“There’s no alternative way if there were I would choose the best and safest one.” He said. 

“How would you know that? Have you considered it?” She said. 

“No, but trust me I know. I have the knowledge of truth. I saw how the future will become if I don’t do it.” He was getting frustrated. A part of him wants to tell her, but it’s too risky for anyone to know even for her. Eren doesn’t want anything terrible to happen to her. Just as she said, he loves her. 

“Then tell me what did you see in the future? I want to understand you. Let me in, please.” Her hands are placed on his cheeks to gently caress them.

“I can’t. Please, understand that. I want to protect you and our people. It’s better than my brother’s method on saving Eldians.” He scoffed at the idea that Zeke had to save the Eldians. 

“What was your brother’s plan? Can you at least tell me that?” She was curious what his brother had in mind to save the Eldian race?

“He wanted to sterilize all Eldians in order to stop the curse by dying out slowly and peacefully.” He explained. 

“That’s an indirect genocide.” She was a bit distrubed. 

“We don’t deserve to die out so in a way I betray my brother by doing this. That’s the future I want to see where Eldians are free from the curse and are at peace to live and enjoy this world that’s our birthright.” He said. 

“No, we don’t. Nobody deserves to be annihilated as well…” She whispered. This caught his attention. Does she….had she figured it out what’s his plan?” His green eyes glared at her. 

“You knew it. How did you figure out my plan? Eve, you have been mysterious since we met. So tell me, who are you for real? Is Eve even your real name?” His tone was skeptical. 

“I...Eren, if I told you, you might think I’m crazy or making shit up.” Her eyes looked afraid  but not because of him. 

“I don’t think whatever you’ll say will top for the crazy shit I have seen through the Path, but you can try to humor me.” Eren still giving a pinning stare. 

“First of all, Eve is my name. Well, my middle name. I’m Natasha Eve Ackerman-Stark. I’m the granddaughter of Queen Historia Ackerman nee Reiss and King Consort Levi Ackerman. Basically, I’m from the future.” Natasha waits nervously for his reaction. 

Eren blinked at first taking in this information. He doesn’t know what to say. It kind of made all sense how she had strengthened, sharp aiming skills. Now that he observed better, she got Levi’s colored eyes but her eye shape could be more on her mother's side. He would have not believed her if he hadn’t seen her Ackerman traits that gave away. That also makes sense in why she was immune to the Founding Titan power. He can’t believe she’s from the future. What actually happened? Did his plan work? Are we free? These questions were taking over his thoughts. 

“Eren...please say something.” Natasha whispered in worry. 

“I’m just taking all in from what you just said. So their baby survived? Wow, if Levi finds out I slept with his granddaughter; I don’t think he’ll let me live.” He chuckled at that thought. The heiress grumbled at that thought. 

“Yeah well, he got no saying about my love life.” her tone sounded resentment. 

“Do you have a good relationship with Levi?” He was curious. 

“Not really. I don’t have a good relationship with them. Our mindsets are a bit different.” She doesn’t want to talk about her issues with her grandparents yet. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said. “So what happened or is that against  the rules when you traveled to the past?”

“We are still cursed but with good foreign relations with the rest of the world, the United Nations are now involved in managing to make sure who gets to inherit the nine titans so any babies with the blood of Subject Of Ymir won’t inherit when they are born. There’s still discrimination but segregation like in Marley had become illegal including every nation since a special law was passed to protect ever Eldians.” She explained. 

“Ah I see. So what happened to me?” If he somehow tried to wipe out the rest of the world except Eldians then there’s a chance he would not live. 

“What the history books say, you were executed for treason to the military and to my grandmother as she represents the nation of Paradis, but I heard rumors that they fake it to please the other nations as their agreement for the treaty Paradis have with the rest of the world. You were known as a war criminal and anti- humanity to everyone who studied history. Some say you are still alive and locked away in the deep deep grounds in a secret lab being studied like a labrat until the curse kills you.” Eren grunted. In the end no one was free. They were still cursed and he probably was a slave to be a test subject for titan science. 

“That doesn’t sound right. I should be dead either way since I have a few years left.” Eren said. 

“I wish it was true the rumor so when I do go back my time, I can free you.” her tone sounded sad. She thought what the future Eren will be like? Is he cold? How do they treat him? But like he said, he’ll be gone way before her existence. 

 It’s best to just appreciate he is here and ok. She grabs his hand to press her palm to his. Eren looked down curiously at her. He let her do whatever she tended to do with his hand. 

“I’ll be dead so you don’t have to worry about freeing me.” He whispered. Eren pulled her gently to have their bodies pressed against each other. 

“When are you going back to your time?” He continues. 

“Um, I don’t know...the thing is I came here accidentally. I was helping a colleague with a time machine, the facility I worked at. So, I’m stuck until I figure out how to get back home.” She doesn’t want to leave even without him. 

“You know, I never planned to fall for you, Eren Jaeger. You are nothing like what history has taught us. You’re much more humane than most people my nana used to deal with as a CEO.” Her arms wrap around his neck which his hands place on her hips. 

“Same, you have been a distraction to my plan. In a way, history has changed because of you. The world better be thanking you for that.” He said jokingly. Eren kissed her forehead affectionately. “Eve or I should call you Natasha?” 

“To be safe, let’s stick to Eve.” She said. 

“Alright, but I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I don’t mean to say these words at the inn. I thought it was best for you to hate me so you don’t get closer to me when I did plan on going through eradicating the population except Eldians. WHen I realized that I have fallen for you, I got scared thinking of losing you. I did the same with Armin and Mikasa. Armin forgave me but Mikasa; I don’t think she will ever.” Eren confessed. 

“Eren, I forgive you. I felt relieved you still feel the same way about me as I do to you. Don’t give up on Mikasa, a person who has cared about you for a long time will not easily hold a grudge against you. Just give her time, but don’t be scared to tell how sorry you are and as for her forgiveness.” She punched his arm which he rubbed his arm. 

“Hey what was that.” He pouted. 

“That’s for you being an idiot in believing all the people who cared about you will hate you easily for planning an apocalyptic disaster. I know you said there’s no other way, but can you try to consider it? I don’t want to lose my other family. I know they didn’t do anything wrong. Some didn't deserve it.” Eren sighed. If the outcome hasn’t happened as he hoped for then maybe he’ll consider it.  

“The only thing I want to know is how will the curse be broken?” Eren wants to be cursed to be destroyed to free their people from being hated and feared by the rest of the world. That's one of his big concerns. 

“We’ll figure it out together. Plus, I have a talent for finding very hidden documents. So we’ll make sure our people will not have to worry about it.” She assured him and gave one of her warmth smiles. 

“Jaeger! Eve! Where are you?” A familiar voice was heard by those two. Eren pulled Eve to hide behind a very wide tree as they saw Ricky or whatever his name was. Now Eren’s mood had shifted to annoyance. 

“Seriously, why does he have to come? He’s probably volunteering to be close to you.” He grumbled. Eve blushed embarrassingly. Yeah, she does have flaws to pissed off people or make them jealous. She felt guilty for making him feel that way, She was so hurt that she wanted to see him be hurt too. 

Eren noticed her face blushed which made his annoyance become irritated. He possessively wraps his arm around her waist to hold her closer to him. Once the garrison soldier gives up and goes back to the campsite, both are alone again. This time Eren turned her to face him. She was about to speak when his lips crashed against hers. The fiery feeling spread all over her body. She moaned how passionate and deep his kiss had become. Her fingers move up to his long hair to run through it. Low key, seeing Eren this jealous made her belly flutter. The way his green eyes become intense and darken; it’s just too irresistible for her. Eren pushed her against the tree to pin her again. The pleasure consuming both as the lusting feeling drunkenly blinded them. 

Eve was her own person that Eren knows, but he’s possessive. He wanted to leave his markings on her so others would back off. Their dynamic is like those impulsiveness couples that are addictive and passionate with each other. He loved how her body responded to his touches. It’s like only he has the power to make her tremble and beg for more. The same vice versa as how Eve acts towards him. In a way they are both similar. They made be in the woods but that won’t stop to go further. Their bodies already yearn for each other. His hands had unbuttoned her blouse to run his tongue all over her exposing breasts. 

Soft moans were coming from her own lips. She was panting loud and heavy. It made Eren’s prides swell from seeing her looking like a hot mess. His hand goes under her purple skirt to feel how soaking wet her panties are. His lips hovered to her ear. 

“My dollface is so wet for me. Isn’t that right, baby? Come on, speak.” He said huskily. 

“Mmmm I-I...Eren.” She struggled to form a sentence. He chuckled how lost she is from his touch. His finger slides her panties down as one of her legs is removed so only her panties dangle on the other leg.  

“Come on, babe, answer my question.” He teased her. Eren resumed attending her nipples with his mouth which Eve let out a squeal. 

“Fuck...Eren I-I a-am w-wet for y-you.” Finally she completed her phrase. 

“Good girl. Remember I’m the only one who can make you wet.” He continued whispering to her. All she could feel was his fingers inside her deep. She started to rock her hips grinding in and out of his fingers. Eren is amused at how eager she is for him. His finger was covered in her warm slick when he pulled out to see. 

“Eren, I need you.” She began to make way to his pants from undoing it. He stopped her then pinned her hands over her head on the tree. “Why should I allow you to get what you want? You've been a bad girl earlier.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl.” Eve biting her lips. She’s definitely a seductress. Eren’s manhood throbbing to be free in his pants. He grunts at being allured to her desire. He planned to just tease her to learn her lesson. 

He subconsciously begins to unbutton his pants to pull down a bit low enough for his cock to be free.  Eren hiked up her long skirt to have her leg lift to be placed on his hip while inserting his cock into her hole. The heiress tilted her head up to moan how good it feels to have him stretching her walls. He stared into her eyes as his hips began to thrust hard and deep. They feel the blissful sensation from being so intimated with each other. He kisses her neck as the woods are now dark but the moonlight shines on where they stand. To Eren, Eve looked like a goddess of the night seducing a man like him. He loved how the moonlight soaks into her skin that gives off a glow. He continues thrusting into her with a bit more roughness. He doesn’t want to speed up to make this mystical sight before him last longer. Her chocolate brown hair spread on the tree trunk. He listens to the echoes of her moanings  and whimpers. 

Yes, she is his. No matter the outcome; they always belong together. He’ll fight for that. 

“You’re always mine. Even when we get separated, you’re mine. I love you always and forever.” He proclaimed. 

“You’re always mine too. Just don’t ever pull that shit on me again. I love you always forever.” The titan shifter saw her tears fall and he kissed it from the guilt he felt how he treated her even if it was for her sake. 

Eren sped up a bit more to increase the high of pleasure for both of them. “Ohh god ohh fuck Eren.” Her moaning became loud while he growls and groans. Finally, he let out a moan when he made a release inside her soon after Eve came as well. Both stopped to rest for a second then slowly Eren pulled out to clean his tip before tucking his cock back into his pants and button again. 

Eve started to slide her panties back up then button up her blouse. She fixes her long skirt appropriately and her hair to look presentable. 

“Oh shit, it’s dark and I’m gonna get yelled for not bringing sticks for the fire.” She forgot what was her main purpose being in the woods. “You can be such a distraction.” 

Eren winked then grabbed her hand to lead her back to the campsite. “I’m not sorry. We’ll get some on our way back to the camp.” 

Along their way back, both of them gather many sticks of wood to burn for the fire. By the time they got to their destination, Rico glared at the both of them. 

“Well well, are you both done fucking like two animals during heat season? Next time, bring the woods when I order too. Seriously, you both have some weird kinks in being loud enough for anyone very close to hear.” Luckily, her voice wasn’t loud for anyone to hear her calling both couples out. Eren and Eve blushed embarrassingly from being scolded like misbehaving teenagers. After Rico finished scolding, she left them alone for them to place the wood close to the pit. Eren let Eve for her to put some wood into the fire to make it big to warm around the campsite. He walked to where Connor was resting against the log. “You look happy for once.” Connor glanced at him. Eren had a smile from the event that happened in the woods. “Yeah.” 

“Good, don’t let her get away. I had a woman like her, but I was stupid enough to push her away. Don’t make the same  mistake I did, kid.” The Assassin closed his eyes to resume his nap. 

A/N: My fingers are hurting from typing so much lol. I’ll just leave it like this and let you think about how you guys like this chapter. I know guys wanted to see more of Levi’s ancestor journey. I will do that in the next chapter and add more of Historia too. Enjoy this chapter everyone and happy valentine’s day!!!! Thank you for the reviews and kudos! Also, I have been planning to add Avengers into the crossover. I am just waiting for the right time in the story.