#but at least Joshua could step in and be like ‘the lady said no.’ in that kind of way that just

[blissfulalchemist]

Mentally ill from the fact that Joshua had to hold back quite a lot any jealousy he felt or instinct to step in for Alma with advances from other men. Like yeah he would step in still if it got bad but like he couldn’t do the slightly passive thing of the like arm around her or slyly threaten with fire. Like most he could do was step in when the men couldn’t take no for an answer or starting to get too handsy and even then he had to limit what he could do!

[lalaliwrites]

𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙔 💋 Seventeen x OFC

Joshua had just parked in front of Kitten’s apartment and was about to dial her number when he saw the front gate swing open. His fingers hovered over the phone screen as Kitten stepped out, striding toward his car with the confidence of someone who had all her problems in check—or at least pretended to.

She wore a simple cream-colored long-sleeved top, paired with a dark khaki pencil skirt that hugged her figure perfectly, ending just above her knees. The look was finished with white stilettos, their sharp clicks against the pavement adding a touch of sophistication to her stride.

What stood out most was the intricate, elegant beige handkerchief tied neatly around her neck, paired with oversized sunglasses, giving her the appearance of someone who had just stepped off a runway.

Kitten walked up to Joshua’s car and opened the passenger door. Joshua casually reached over, offering to take her handbag to place on the backseat, which she handed to him before sliding into the seat next to him. Once seated, she ripped off her sunglasses and threw them onto the dashboard. And to make herself comfortable, she kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up onto the seat, tucking them beneath her. 

Joshua looked over and raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if holding back a laugh. “You know, you could at least pretend to act like a lady.”

Before Kitten could respond, Joshua grabbed a small blanket from the backseat and tossed it at her, landing right on her face. “Cover your legs, for heaven’s sake. You’re wearing a skirt.”

Kitten huffed but reluctantly pulled the blanket over her legs. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

Joshua chuckled as he put the car into drive. “Yeah, but you still adore me.”

Kitten rolled her eyes but smiled, settling back into her seat as they drove off. "Unfortunately, I do."

As they drove, Kitten had been fully absorbed in her own little concert for the past twenty minutes. She’d already belted out three different songs, her arms flailing as she danced in her seat, her upper body swaying dramatically to the beat. 

Joshua, on the other hand, was trapped between laughter and exasperation. Every time he tried to skip a song, Kitten would immediately switch it back and continue singing without missing a beat. He kept glancing at her—half-amused, half-baffled—watching as she kept up her one-woman show.

After a while, though, something else caught his attention—the beige satin handkerchief wrapped around her neck. 

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re wearing that scarf in hot weather?”

Kitten abruptly stopped mid-verse, her animated demeanor deflating in an instant. She sighed, leaned her elbows on the edge of the window, and pressed a hand to her temple as if the weight of the world had just hit her.

“Kitten,” Joshua repeated, glancing at her, “I’m serious. What’s going on with that scarf? You’re not fooling me.”

Kitten groaned softly before muttering, “I have hickeys.”

Joshua blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wait—what?"

Kitten turned her head slowly to look at him, her expression one of defeat. "I said… I have hickeys. Three, to be exact. On my neck. Right here." She pointed vaguely at her collarbone, still hiding beneath the handkerchief.

For a second, Joshua was stunned into silence. Then a smirk tugged at his lips. “Hickeys?” he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. “Since when do you get hickeys?”

“I don’t know how it happened, okay? But apparently, it did.”

Joshua chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the road. “Well, well, well... seems like someone had a real fun night.”

Kitten shot him a glare. “Shut up and drive.”

Joshua’s grin widened as he kept glancing over at her. “You seriously don’t remember anything? Not even who it was?”

“No, Joshua. I was drunk, remember? First time, too. And now, this.” She gestured to the handkerchief as if it were the root of all her problems.

“Well, at least you had a good time, right?” Joshua teased, his grin not fading. “I mean, it takes skill to land three hickeys. That’s some dedication.”

“You’re not helping.” She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, her voice dropping. “I just... I feel so stupid. I was planning to confess to Wonwoo, tell him I’ve moved on, and then... this happens. Now, I have no idea who did it.”

“Wait,” Joshua’s confusion deepened, his brow furrowing as he glanced over at Kitten. “I thought... I mean, last night, I figured you already did.”

Kitten blinked, staring at Joshua like he had spoken in another language. “What? No. Trust me, if I had, I would remember something as important as that.”

“But you were gone the whole night. And Wonwoo... well, he left, too. I thought maybe the two of you...”

Kitten sat up straighter, the confusion now mixing with frustration. “Joshua… I didn’t confess. I didn’t even talk to him. I couldn’t find him, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up in my bed with hickeys on my neck!”

Joshua’s mind raced as he processed her words. “So you and Wonwoo... nothing happened?”

Kitten shook her head firmly. “Nothing. Would you like me to say it again? Gosh.”

Joshua let out a breath, trying to play it cool, but relief was bubbling up inside him. “So... if you didn’t talk to Wonwoo and he left the party early, then...” 

Kitten sighed, leaning back against the seat, her frustration clear. “I don’t know what happened, Joshy. Everything’s a blur after I started drinking.” 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. It’s not like you did anything wrong. You were at a party, having fun—maybe a little too much fun—but it happens.”

Kitten sighed, closing her eyes. “Yeah, but now I have a mystery kisser on top of everything else.”

Joshua’s hands tightened on the steering wheel slightly, though his voice remained casual. “Maybe it’s for the best. If you don’t remember, maybe it’s not that big of a deal. Just don’t overthink it.”

Kitten glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, suspicion creeping in. “Why are you being so chill about this?”

Joshua shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just think it’s not worth stressing over. Maybe whoever it was didn’t even mean anything by it. You were drunk, Kitten. It could’ve been anyone.”

Kitten looked away, her mind racing. That’s what bothered her the most. 

Anyone.

She suddenly paused, her thoughts racing as a wild idea popped into her head. 

That’s right! 

A mischievous grin slowly spread across her lips, the kind that made her eyes sparkle with excitement. She turned on her side, now sitting upright in her seat, facing Joshua, who was laser-focused on the road ahead. He stole a quick glance at her, his brows furrowing as he noticed her strange expression. 

“What the hell are you smiling about?” he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. He knew that look all too well. “You’re planning something—”

“I’m planning something!” Kitten exclaimed with enthusiasm at the same moment.

Joshua groaned, sensing the chaos that was sure to follow. “Oh god, here we go. What is it this time?”

Her grin only widened. “I’m going to find my mystery kisser...”

Joshua glanced away from her, his eyes still focused on the road, but Kitten kept staring at him, waiting for a better reaction. A real one. But instead, what she got was his sarcastic laugh, followed by a playful smack on the steering wheel. His eyes crinkled with amusement as the laughter escaped him, clearly finding her plan ridiculous.

Kitten’s grin faltered, twisting into an annoyed expression as she watched her best friend laugh at her. His reaction was typical, but it still irritated her.  

“Joshua Hong!” she called out like she always did when she was serious and Joshua’s laughter slowed, though he couldn’t stop himself from giggling under his breath.

“I’m serious!” Kitten huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m going to find out who kissed me last night.”

The kiss—what little she remembered—had felt... intense. But she wasn’t ready to admit that to her  best friend. Not yet.

Joshua let out one final chuckle before regaining composure, his face softening into a smirk. “Okay, okay, serious mode. But, like, what are you even going to do when you find out who it was?” 

His eyes flitted to the side mirror to make sure they were still on course. "Let's say you’re going to hunt down your mystery kisser…and then what? Ask for a refund if the kiss wasn’t up to your standards?"

“This isn’t some random thing I just thought up. That kiss was too good. I need to know who it was!” Kitten blurted out, her voice louder than she intended.

The second the words left her mouth, she froze. Crap. She hadn’t meant to admit that out loud. She’d been trying to avoid saying it for hours, not wanting Joshua to tease her for getting so worked up over one kiss. But now, the truth was out, and there was no taking it back.

Joshua’s smirk deepened, and he gave her a slow, knowing nod. 

“Ohhhh, I see how it is now. So it wasn’t just any kiss, huh? It was that good?” His voice was filled with amusement as he shot her a sideways glance. “Katherine Lim, secretly a romantic. Who would've thought?”

Kitten could feel her face heating up, the embarrassment rushing to her cheeks. “Shut up,” she muttered, crossing her arms and slumping back into her seat, fully expecting the teasing to get worse.

“No, no, go on. Please tell me more about this life-changing kiss. Must've been some guy to make you spiral like this.” Joshua wasn’t done. “So, what are we talking about here? Best kiss of your life? Top five? You’ve gotta give me more details if you’re going to freak out about it this much.”

Kitten groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m never telling you anything ever again,” she grumbled.

“You’d be lost without me,” Joshua laughed, the playful tone making Kitten’s annoyance melt just a little.

She sighed deeply. “I'll have to figure it out eventually. I’m not just going to let this go.”

“Of course not. You’re too stubborn for that.” Joshua chuckled softly. "You're a mess, Kitten."

Return to KISSTERY Masterlist...

[roshield]

ACHIEVED

GLIMPSES OF THE PAST

send ACHIEVED for a scene from my muse's past in which they completed / achieved something they were proud of

"Are you nervous?"

The question from Jill isn't anything of a surprise to the young lord. Clive looks over at the girl, Torgal scooped up in her arms. Despite not being the one partaking in the ducal tournament, she was the one who seemed the most nervous, the way she shuffles her feet a little. She's nervous for him, of course. There's so much riding on this.

"A little," admits Clive as he rolls his shoulders back. He's always been honest with Jill; he is nervous, because there's so much riding on this. Clive may be Joshua's elder brother, but that didn't mean he got the easy path in life, nor did it mean he would automatically be granted First Shield. Like everyone else who has entered the tournament, he had to prove himself.

Like always. Like he's always done ever since he could first walk.

"He'll do just fine, milady." Sir Murdoch's voice rings proudly, a strong hand patting on Clive's shoulder. "He may not have bested me yet, but those participating also have never had me as their tutor, so I'd say the young lord has a good chance of winning." The Lord Commander looks at his student with proudness in his eyes, confidant in him, and Clive can't help but beam a little underneath the praise.

( rodney murdoch had always been like a father to him, stepping in where elwin had failed. it's something he never admits, but he wonders if things would have been better for him and joshua if the brothers had been raised as sir murdoch and lady hanna's sons. living in the small cottage in eastpool, with no worries of being a prince, shield, or a son a mother could love. )

Sir Murdoch's words do, at the very least, ease Jill as well. No longer shuffling in nervousness, she looks up at her friend with a fire burning in her eyes, nodding her head towards him.

"Go get 'em!" She cheers him on, Torgal's tiny barks alongside her encouragement. "Do it for Joshua!"

The young lord nods his head, a smile on his face. He had to win this, no matter what.

For his brother. For the person he swore to protect ten summers ago.

---

It's a close call, certainly, but as the final contestant falls to the ground, Clive ensures his victory.

There's cheers from the crowd around him, some in disbelief that someone so young ( fifteen summers, nonetheless! ) could actually win the ducal tournament, but Clive does. He's worn out, he feels like his legs could give out at any moment, but he's won at that's all that matters to him. He won for his brother.

"Clive!"

Said brother's voice rings outs, and as Clive turns around both Joshua and Jill ( and torgal's little legs, trying to keep up with them ) are running towards him. Joshua barrels into him first, unable to stop himself from throwing his arms around his brother in a hug. Jill, polite as ever, has her hands clasped in front of her with a bright smile on her face.

"You did it." She's breathless, as though she's been holding her breath the entire tournament. Maybe she was, in nervousness for him or in amazement. "You were amazing, Clive."

Clive laughs a little, feeling a little sheepish underneath her gaze. "If you weren't cheering me on, I don't think I would have been able to do it." He meets her smile with one of his own - bright, happy, and something shining for the girl that's only for her.

"I knew you could do it!" Joshua pulls himself away from his brother. "You're going to be be my First Shield now, right?"

There's a small pause. Cerulean eyes glance up to the stands - Elwin sits with a proud smile on his face towards his first born. Anabella is not present at all. Clive didn't expect her to be; she never held much interest in Rosaria's shields.

And she would never hold interest for someone who she refused to recognize as her son.

Clive feels his heart clench. It only unclenches when he looks down at Joshua, whose eyes shine bright with happiness that his elder brother would be his protector. Hs mother doesn't matter in this moment, he realizes.

"Of course, Joshua." The First Shield finally answers, the smile on his face growing. "From this day forth, I will be your shield. And I will see my duty through."

No matter the cost.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

An Instance

Summary: Joshua supposed he should have known that when it came to the snow daisies, for one couple it would solve their recent problems. But for the other... well, it would prove quite the challenge, wouldn't it?

It was ironic, wrong, cruel… and so many other words that Joshua could have added to the pot, that he stood in the infirmary of the Hideaway, asking Jote where they had last seen snow daisies on their journey together. He was doing so, so Clive might find some to show some to Jill to improve her spirits… but as he and Jote’s conversation continued, Joshua felt his own spirit diminishing.

As soon as he had begun speaking of the flora, there had been a brief instance where Joshua had seen hope color Jote’s face—that maybe he was returning her such beautiful and graceful love for him, after all—before she had covered it up like the wonderful attendant she was.

And Joshua hated that she had to cover it up at all… even if he didn’t return her feelings (and he did, though there would never be talks of that for so many reasons now), she deserved to at least have them entertained—as all those in love did, even with the idea of a possible heartbreak on the horizon—not to have to always pretend she was naught but a waif, out of a misplaced sense of propriety.

Joshua almost wished he could take his question back, and not have this be another dagger in his dear friend, comrade, and secret love’s heart, were it not also for his own desire to lift some of his dear sister’s baggage.

Things had never been easy for Joshua and his brother… but it seemed ever since they had been ripped from each other’s side, nothing could ever could go right. And this was just more proof of that, the Dominant of Phoenix supposed.

“According to my records, Your Grace,” Jote whispered as she pulled out one of her journals, “we came across snow daisies in Oillepheist Bay. I had then remarked that I had never seen such lovely flowers of their like before, as we made our crossing… and your Grace then said that you had seen some as a child. And that to your Grace, these daisies looked like blue flowers with snow and raindrops crystallized to them. And I couldn’t have agreed more, your Grace. It made for a sightly day.”

Joshua listened, mouth agape, as Jote in so much detail talked about when they’d been in the Royal Meadows of Sanbreque. He couldn’t believe that she remembered so incredibly well a calm day they had spent together. Once again, it became clear to the king of Rosaria just how much she loved him… and he wished for the millionth time that he could say something in return to her, but his illness—and now the upcoming fight within Origin—made it impossible.

Jote’s words also made it known to Joshua that she adored the snow daisies just as much as Jill did, and he couldn’t help but smile at that. Yes, the two girls were one of a kind, indeed.

maybe in that, there was something that could be told to Jote. To hint to things, if nothing else, which she so rightly deserved… that, and the whole world for all she had done, Joshua thought.

“Yes, my lady,” Joshua said, stepping forward and holding Jote’s hand but for a moment. “I did find that snow daisies looked crystallized or frozen, if you will. But now, if I may be so bold, I find the one thing I wish to be frozen in time are these moments I’m spending together with everyone. With you.” And he squeezed her hands in his own for emphasis as Jote allowed tears to well up in her eyes for just an instance.

But once again, it was all the two could allow.

And offering the best companion he could have asked for on his long journey another quick smile, Joshua bid her adieu—so he could go tell Clive his findings, and see if his own investigation into the snow daisies had yielded similar results.

Author’s Note: A birthday present for my dear friend Liz, that I truly hope she enjoys. -blows party horn and throws confetti-

I just thought that when Joshua asked Jote about the snow daisies, it unfortunately had to hurt our poor girl. And thus, I had to write this.

I hope everyone liked the story! Especially you, Liz. Love you!

@bluerosesburnblue

[purpleyellow]

The audacity

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“Seventeen won’t take bs when it comes to Hayun”

Requested by: two (2) anons    

cw: offensive language

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open! 💙

(to my brazilians around, this gif is svt’s version of ninguem solta a mão de ninguem)

The arrival of dancers made the practice room even more crowded and noisy than usual. It was one of the few times Seventeen worked with an outside dance team, and they happened to have a lot of new faces around, who needed time to figure out the staging and how things were working so far.

After they ran through the choreography a couple of times, the choreographer called in a break, allowing the huge group to instantly clear the middle space and separate themselves into small circles of conversations.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua instantly met each other and began chatting about dinner plans and whatnot. Slowly approaching Jun and Wonwoo, the oldest filled them in on what they're deciding until he starts searching for someone.

“So, we could order it on the next break and have someone grab it for us. Anyway, did anyone see Hayun?”

“Making friends, as usual,” Wonwoo comments, pointing at the other corner of the room where the girl was surrounded by four dancers.

“Hayun-ah” The leader waves her over and waits as she jogs to his side “We're talking about dinner, what do you think about-”

“Oh, those guys were talking about this new restaurant that opened downtown, I was thinking of tagging along with them” She points back at the group and watches as her members nod “But I can cancel, of course”

“No, go ahead. It's just a meal” Joshua goes to wave her off when Seungkwan approaches them with crossed arms.

“Yeah. Just a meal. Until she's suddenly ditching us during the holidays and moving out with her new friends” The boy pouts, turning his face away from the group. Hayun reaches up to ruffle his hair before landing a soft slap.

“Says the dude who is friends with half of the entertainment industry” Ignoring his eye roll, she turns back to the rest of their little huddle “Well, if nobody else will feel betrayed”

“I was kidding” Seungkwan whines and Scoups pushes her away from them “Stop being dramatic and go do your mingling”

Going back to the group of dancers, Hayun resumes chatting with them for a couple of minutes before the break is over.

After more hours of running over every tiny detail for the stage, the rehearsal finally ends and the scattering of people begins. Hayun takes a couple of minutes talking about minor adjustments with the members and just checking up on them before searching for the four friends she had made that evening.

“Hey, how do you guys plan on heading there?” She asks, taking a sip from her water bottle and missing the glances between the two boys and two girls.

“Actually, we might have to do it another day,” The girl closest to her says and flips a hair strand off of Hayun's shoulder. “We got pretty tired from this last session”

“And work tomorrow it's going to start pretty early, you know. It's best to let this go for today,” The boy nods to her before pulling out his phone from his pocket and slightly turning away from the idol.

“Yeah, I get it. That's okay, we'll reschedule it then” Hayun smiles and gives them a thumbs up “I'll head to the dorms, then. Have a good rest, and tomorrow we'll talk more”.

Sending her some quick waves and small smiles, the four dancers waited for Hayun to turn around before sharing an annoyed look and sighing.

The practice room slowly grows empty, only leaving Wonwoo and Vernon who lost an incredible game of rock, paper, scissors, and had to stay behind to clean up everything. Finally turning off the lights, the two boys head out into the hallway and spot a group of four people standing by the entrance.

“Aren't those the people Hayun was talking to earlier,” Vernon asks quietly before a voice from the group reaches them.

“Why is this damn cab taking so long? We should have let that airhead tag along”.

“Agreed. She would have talked our ears off, but at least we would have made it to the club already”.

Sharing a look, the two idols stop walking and listen closely to understand if the dancers are talking about what the boys think they're talking about.

“That was so stupid. Why would you invite her in the first place? She's so annoying”.

“I mean, having an idol considering you a friend would be fun, right? Especially with the Christmas season coming up. Can you imagine the gifts she would buy us?”

“Yeah, dude. We wouldn't even need to worry about paying for stuff anymore. Just have Hayun tag along anywhere and, boom, no more tabs to pay.”

“But also, no more functioning eardrums”

“No, you have a point. She seems like she'd give us her credit card password on the third time we hung out. Not to mention, looking at her position in contrast with ours. You don't even have to befriend her, but be on her good side, and she'll make sure to give us more gigs within Pledis”.

Standing frozen, Wonwoo and Vernon listened to everything they were saying and shared looks of disbelief. Having enough of it, the oldest cleared his throat and slung his bag, making it hit his own back with enough force to make a thumping sound.

“Let's go, Vernon,” He ignored the four people standing before them with wide eyes and resumed walking. Once shoulder to shoulder with one of the dancers, Wonwoo stopped again and said while looking ahead, “Next time, be careful of whom you're talking about”.

Vernon, on the other hand, made eye contact with each dancer before raising one eyebrow and following the oldest. After closing the car door, he groaned annoyed, “Can you believe they had… ”

“… the fucking audacity” Jeonghan places his cup on the table, face showcasing utter disgust after Wonwoo told him what they had listened before leaving the Pledis building.

“Show me who those people are again tomorrow. I'll make sure they never step inside our practice room, ever again,” Hoshi points out.

“Is there a way of not having them tomorrow? I'm afraid Scoups Hyung might commit murder” Dokyeom brought attention to the leader standing on the corner of the kitchen.

Looking like he was plotting an illegal act, Seungcheol scoffs and pushed himself away from the cabinets. “The bare minimum you would expect from someone is that they can be professional. I swear, those people are getting an earful for talking about Hayun within a billion-meter ratio from where I work”.

“It's best to let it rest until tomorrow's performance is done. After we'll probably never see them again, so there's not much point causing any visible disturbance.” Laying a hand on the leader's arm, Woozi tried to make some sort of sense, but all it did was cause Scoups to roll his eyes.

“We can't just act like nothing happened”

“We also can't change anything about the choreography until then” Hoshi butts in and takes a breath trying not to jump in the 'let's hunt them down' train.

“They already know Wonwoo and Vernon heard them trash-talking her, so I'm not letting them have it easy tomorrow.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and pointed to both Woozi and Hoshi, “I'm speaking my mind the first moment I see those sons of bitches, you're free to wait until the show's over”.

“About that, I don't think we should tell Hayun what happened” Joshua, who had been quiet the entire time, speaks, drawing attention to him. “Not until, as you said, the show is over, and we won't see them again. You know that she's probably going to get disappointed about it”.

“And you expect her to not go running to meet her new 'friends' once we arrive at the venue?” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, but Mingyu shakes his head and backs the older up.

“We just have to keep her entertained around us. Fill in Dino, Seungkwan, and Myungho later, and have them help with making sure the group doesn't run into her”.

Raising his hand, Vernon casually mumbles “Maybe don't tell Seungkwan, he won't be able to hide his feelings about the whole thing”

“Myungho won't either” Jun comments and the room falls silent at the sound of the remaining members chatting and approaching the kitchen.

“Wow, you make a meeting and forget to call in the main characters” Hayun laughs walking through the room and opening the fridge for a beer “So, when's the food arriving?”

~

Hayun is sitting on the makeup chair, casually watching Scoups and Jeonghan whispering to each other from the mirror's reflection, when a hand lands on her shoulder and another holds out a smoothie for her.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Joshua sits on the chair next to her while Mingyu punctures the drink's lid with a straw.

Without taking her eyes off the mirror, she nods with her head to it. “Those two are up to something”

“Scoups and Jeonghan Hyung? Nah, they're always like that. Sharing secrets and stuff,” Mingyu giggles, shoving the straw inside her mouth and shifting to stand in front of the mirror. “Cute nail polish, when did you have time to get it done?”

“Oh, these are acrylics. This lady was just putting them on” Hayun falls into his trap and began analyzing the design with some occasional comments from the boys.

Peace has seemingly set inside the dressing room, yet it doesn't last long until Dino's loud “Uh?” caught the attention of the members, who turned to see what he and Vernon were doing.

Trying to shut the youngest up, Vernon makes it very obvious to the guys that he had just filled Dino in with the “frenemies” situation. Most of them try to brush it off and not bring more attention to it. Seungkwan, however, approaches them by, very loudly, asking what's up.

“What are you talking about?” He boringly fixes up his outfit. Vernon can feel the burning eyes of Jeonghan on his skull as he tries to deviate the conversation to another topic.

“Did you go see catering already? I heard they had a coffee machine”.

“Wait. Does he not know what happened?” Dino fails to read the room properly and instigates the older boy.

“What happened? Why is everyone sharing secrets all of a sudden? Is the thing you're discussing why Scoups Hyung seems ready to jump someone”.

The timing of events can't be worse, as the makeup artist taps Hayun's shoulder to let her know they were done. Within seconds, the girl gets up and turns to where the three youngest were standing.

“What's with the gossiping? Did Vernon lose his airpods again?” She brushes away from Joshua as he tried to hold her in place and waves off Mingyu when, in a panic, he suggests they should check out the pigeons outside.

“What? No! I mean, yeah! How unfortunate, isn't it?” Vernon jumps around his answers and tries looking for anyone willing to help him out.

“Just tell her about it” Approaching them from the door, Jeonghan, now without the leader's company, shrugs his shoulders, making Hayun raise an eyebrow.

“Jeonghan, at least wait until the day is over,” Joshua speaks through his teeth and the boy rolls his eyes.

“Well, she already knows something is up, and to be fair I don't know what good hiding this will bring. At least, if she feels like doing something about it, she'll have the chance right now”.

“Do something about it? Hadn't we agreed that the best is to wait until the performance is over and just never see them again?”

“What even are you talking about?” Hayun shuts them both up and Jeonghan and Joshua turned to her with annoyed expressions, “Don't even look at me like that. You're the ones mentioning me as if I'm not in the room”.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Joshua tilts his head a little and speaks softly, “Trust me for a moment here, it's best if you brush it aside. Until later at least, and then we can settle it as you wish”.

“Wha- Just spill it out for fucks sake. I'm going to combust if you don't tell me right now whatever this all means,” Hayun puffs, punching his shoulder. Just as Joshua opens his mouth to say the same thing again, Jeonghan beats him and shoves himself in front of the girl.

“Do you recall those dancers you were planning to go out with yesterday? Yeah, well, turns out they're all little shits who were trash-talking you, and just overall talking crap, yesterday”

“Jeonghan” Joshua repressed the older who does nothing but wave him off.

“Doesn't matter what they said because you're nothing of it, and-” Adverting his eyes for a second, Jeonghan stares to the side, where half of Scoups' body is waving for him through the door. “And, and, you're amazing and all of that. So now go rest your awesome self while I go teach those punks a lesson”.

Zooming past her, Jeonghan runs to the door, where the leader is already back outside. Hoshi, Jun, Woozi, and DK, scream for him before also going out of the door. A very lost, Seungkwan, simultaneously tries to get Vernon to tell him what exactly the dancer said before while shouting for the older to wait for him to also speak his mind.

“I didn't want you to know about this before the performance, but-”

“Whatever, let's make sure nobody dies today” Hayun rolls her eyes and turns around, Wonwoo running from where he was watching everything and holding her by the shoulder.

“Do you want us to go fix that up? It's okay to give them the cold shoulder or just go off if you want to” Nodding, she keeps silent and walks out, bringing the rest of the guys behind her.

The8, who also had just found out about the situation, whispers to Vernon, “Can you believe they had the audacity?”

“I know, right?” The youngest whisper-yelled at him as they made it to the hallway and assessed the situation.

“The next time you even think about opening your mouth to talk about her-” Scoups had his finger pointing at the tallest dancer -who ironically had a few centimeters on him-, while the rest of the members stood next to him nodding and calmly listening to what the leader was saying.

“Oppa, just drop it,” Hayun shouts, walking past them and holding his shoulder.

Annoyingly, Scoups rolled his eyes and turned to her, “What do you mean, drop it?” Thinking for a second, he blinked and turned even more bothered, “Who even told you about this?”

The leader looked around until he found Mingyu, offending the tall guy who made an X in front of his body.

“Doesn't matter who told me. Let's just not lose time doing this” Brushing past him, Hayun now faced the dancers “Look, I'll teach you something right now, so grab it or drop it okay? I don't give a shit that you don't like me, or whatever, but at least be professional because all this situation did was teach me that none of you care about your careers. It's pretty clear by the angry puppy beside me that you just lost any chance of growing inside our brand, so keep this as a lesson and respect the artists you're working with. Also, once we're on stage put on a smile, so my fans won't be able to sense your shit”

“It should be pretty clear by what she said but you definitely don't have a chance to work with any Pledis artist again” Hoshi came from the end of the hallway alongside their manager and choreographer. The latter nodded and added.

“For the sake of the performance, you should all go back to your dressing rooms. You all said whatever was on your mind, so try to refocus during the last few minutes you have”.

“I didn't get to say what was on my mind” While the group was dispersing, DK mumbles on the side and Jun snorts.

“You had a chance, but all you did was stare at them and scowl until Scoups Hyung took the lead”

“I don't care about who said and who didn't say what they wanted” Hayun rolled her eyes, turning to the boys as they arrived in the room. Clasping her hands together, she brings them to her face and smiles, “You all care about me”.

“The fact you still doubted about it after years hurts me” Dokyeom held his chest and frowned, the girl laughs and goes to hug him.

“Group hug?” Seungkwan says uncertainly and Hoshi nods, dragging Woozi with him, “Group hug!”

[wickednerdery]

Title: Save a Mobius, Ride a Loki Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Loki, Rick & Morty Pairing/character: Loki & Mobius, Rick & Morty Rating: FRM Summary: “Mobius, no!!” Notes: This is a continuation of The Great Loki and something that’s been stuck in my head since before Loki premiered I’ve been dying to write, so I have. Knowledge of Rick & Morty is helpful, but not required. This story has adult content, language, and violence. For length, etc, there’s a Read More:

Loki scans the desert, wary he’s ended up where he began; where the TVA first collected him. The whinnying of horses on the wind and outline of an American frontier town in the distance indicates this is unlikely, which is a relief. He takes a few steps, then stops and turns back. “What are you doing?”

Mobius sighs as he fusses with the TemPad. “Trying to figure out when and where we are.” He stumbles through the sand as he attempts to keep up with the god’s long strides. “There’s something wrong with the specs, the settings maybe…” Then a thought blooms in the back of his mind, compels him to ask. “You didn’t do anything to it, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Loki…” It’s gentle warning, reminder. The TVA isn’t done with him, he’ll not simply let Loki wander off.

The tone, implication of it, offends. “I didn’t do anything to your blasted device!” He storms off with his own suspicion and settles under a Joshua tree to examine the gun he lifted from the old man. 

Mobius plops beside him, undoing tie as the god shifts to share the shade. “I’m sorry I accused, it’s just…” He’s Loki.

Loki ignores in favor of moving on. “I think the portal gun moves across time and space. We’re in another dimension entirely, see?” He shows the tiny dials, settings, on the device. “Your TemPad won’t work, because it doesn’t exist here.”

If the TemPad doesn’t exist, then reason stands that the TVA doesn’t either and the thought is mind-blowing - terrifying and exciting both. Mobius lived his life with the understanding that the TVA, the Time-Keepers, existed everywhere and (in a way) at every time, and yet...He examines the gun for himself, then hands it back. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Enough exposition for the readers then?”

“I guess so, I mean, we don’t want to bog them down in the...”

“Talky talky talky.” They say in unison. 

“So...how do we figure out where we are then?”

“I’ve a thought.” Loki gets up, starts in the direction of the town, with Mobius quick to catch up. As they carry on he waves hand to change their clothing according to what he suspects will be most appropriate.

“Did you just change my clothes?”

“Of course, how else did you expect us to fit in?”

“No, it’s nice…” The agent looks over the dark shirt, cowboy boots, before taking off the hat to examine. “Impressive...Just...why am I all in black?”

“Because I’m in white.”

“Yeah...But why are you in white and then, you know, I’m in black?”

“Maybe I want to change things up? Think that’s possible? ” It’s said sarcastically, but Loki himself isn’t sure it’s not true. 

Mobius smiles. “If anyone could do it, it’d be you.” 

When they arrive the god scans the rough wood buildings, the rougher looking citizens that stroll and spit in the streets, with growing smile. This is a place he can enjoy, regardless of where or when it is. Eyes follow a woman in threadbare silk, breasts nearly out, before they find the double-gun holster of her companion.

"What you grinnin’ at, Saddle-Bum?” When Loki laughs the man grows enraged, pulls his gun.

Mobius curses and scrambles as chaos breaks out, just managing to push the woman out of the way of the gunfire. He tucks them behind a pile of barrels that spill liquor as bullets fly. “Stay down.” As the dust settles he glances out. “Loki?” He’s not cross, only worried.

The god only smiles, triumphant over the local bleeding out on his back. “Ah, there you are, Mobius!” That’s a relief.

The woman begins to scream. “Oh my god! You shot the sheriff!!”

“But I did not shoot the deputy.” Loki tips his hat with a grin.

He should be angry, scared, but Mobius isn’t. Heart pounds not with fear, but at the possibilities. It’s one thing to study Loki, to interview and interact with him under controlled circumstances, but this is something entirely different. They’re off the proverbial reservation. This is a wild Loki and it’s thrilling. “This is crazy…” The corners of his lips lift in spite of himself as men drag the body away. “Lucky no one liked that sheriff.”

“Funny how often that happens.” Loki chuckles. “Shall we find a room then?”

“Two.”

“Mobius, really, I thought you would know better. If two beings are in this sort of scenario, there will only be one room and one bed available.”

"Come on, you really think the...powers that be are gonna pull that old trope out?”

Loki only chuckles as he swings saloon doors wide and cheers. “Your new sheriff is here!” The gunslingers, prospectors, and whores all turn and stare. Just stare. The god drops hands to hips, but smile remains. “Tough crowd.” He huffs his laugh, carries on to the bar. “May we have two glasses of your finest and two rooms please?”

“Sorry, just got the one available.”

“On, come on, really?” The agent is incredulous. “Did Loki put you up to this?”

The bartend and proprietor smirks. “You want the room or not?”

“The one room will do just fine, thank you,” Loki smiles out before grabbing the whole bottle rather than poured glass and heading towards a cards game. “Are you coming or not?”

It takes a moment to realize the saloon owner had no expectation of getting paid now, that Mobius was free to go to the table if he wished. He did and he did, settling beside Loki. “You know how to play this game?”

“I know how to play many games, from many different lands. Do you know how to play?”

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.” Not more than a few hands later he’s nearly all the pot to himself.

The god is thoroughly impressed. “You lied.” He smiles.

“Ahhh, what is a lie, anyway?” Mobius smiles back. “Just a...” He shrugs. “Reinterpretation of the truth.”

“You get that from your space lizard employers?”

“Nope.” He sets another winning hand on the table. “I got that from you.”

“Yer a cheat,” a player grumbles. “A liar and a cheat.” Mobius prepares to defend himself when the player turns to Loki. “And a lousy sheriff.” The god only laughs before the man grabs his wrist, digs into Loki’s jacket pocket, and pulls out an ace.

Guns cock in the men’s direction; one sighs, the other grins madly. 

“Loki, you weren’t even winning!” Mobius decries.

“Well I would have been, if you weren’t so good!” 

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Not completely.”

“Not remotely!”  The two men begin to devolve themselves into a shouting match, talking over each other as they plot an escape. “Are you ready?!”

“As I’ll ever be!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

Loki blasts the poker player holding his wrist along with two other gunslingers while Mobius socks the man beside him in the nose. It quickly escalates, spreads across the saloon like a tornado that draws in all manner of people around it. Chairs and bullets and glasses fly through the air. Mirrors and tables shatter, people scream, and through it all the god revels...and so does the agent. Until, that is, another gun fires from outside...Fast, futuristic, and deadly so both man and god hit the floor lest they get hit.

“I know you’re in there you portal gun stealing fuckers!” Rick rages from within his ship. It isn’t simply that they took his gun - they weren’t the first and he’d many - it was that he hadn’t discovered the theft soon enough. It was the hit to his ego. “Come out here now and maybe, maybe, I won’t squanch your ass!”

“Jesus, Rick, relax.” Morty doesn’t know why he bothers as his grandfather turns to berate him instead.

Loki pops up, begins to pull magic into his hands as Mobius braces on overturned table to stand. “Hide in the rafters” 

“The rafters?” Mobius looks up as Loki forms him an armored vest as precaution. “Are you kidding me? What in our history together makes you think I’m capable of something like that?”

“Then hide elsewhere, just let me handle the old man.” Loki gives overconfident wink.

Mobius sighs...This is it, this is how he dies… “I’ve a better idea.” He storms past Loki, strolls out into the street where the other two are still arguing in their ship.

“Mobius no!” Loki gives chase.

As you can see, Loki’s got no trouble slipping into new, chaotic, worlds and having a blast while Mobius takes a bit longer to find his footing - this may change as Mobius continues to travel and finds his own way of making things work. Because the rascals couldn’t manage to finish their cowboy tale in one go, there will be at least one more piece in this Wild West world...Hope y’all don’t mind, haha! (”Saddle-Bum” is an old west phrase meaning drifter.)

All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!

Those who may read: @holykryptonitekitten @lady-crowned-with-stars @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @dreamsofapiratelife @biiskuitx @delightfulheartdream @antoniostarshadow13 @mobiusbmobius​@zippythewondersquirrel ...If you wish to be tagged in future pieces, please let me know!

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

“I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

“Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo’s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.  

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo  brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!! 

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_) 

[hongnanglen-arina]

Sweet study break | Hong Joshua

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Joshua x fem reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Hello there! This is my part for this years valentine’s gram event from @caratwritersclub​ ! I got teamed up with the cutie Sakura ( @cupidhaos​ ) so here is my little drabble for you dear. I hope you’ll like it ♡ Happy Valentine's day! 💋

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

You were stressed out. All the studying got on your nerves and if that wasn’t enough already, your weekend was filled with chores and additional studying, leaving you no time for your much needed self care and time for your friends and hobbys. It just sucked.

Looking up from your textbook, you suddenly felt the urge to eat sweets. To relax your nerves.

So you made your way out of your room to look for it. Anything would do at this rate but there was nothing at all. Sighting heavily, the realization hit you that the only option was to buy something at the convenient store down the road. 

A short glance at the open textbook on your table made you feel that you should take a short time off and get some fresh air. Not only the sweets but also the little walk could give you more energy to continue later.

That’s when you got ready and quickly threw on an oversized hoodie, grabbing your purse and phone to leave the apartment to almost hit a familiar boy with the front door as you were about to head out.

“W-wha… wow…. hi?”

He stepped back, sharing your surprise to see the other like this.

“Oh sorry!! Did I hit you, Shua?”

At your question Joshua shook his head no and you smiled in relieve. “No no, don’t worry, y/n. Were you heading out? Need company?”

You thought for a moment but then agreed to his offer. “I craved sweets so I took a break from studying to get some. Sorry that I can’t hang out with you for much longer after that but there’s still a lot to do.” He had followed you out of the apartment complex, walking side by side as he looked at you.

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and taking care of yourself in between all the studying. I was worried.”

A pink blush appeared on your cheeks when you heard his words. He was worried?

Fighting back a smile, you made an ‘oh’ sound not to sounds too crazy. Sheepishly waiting for him to turn his gaze off of you, you took the chance to admire his side profile when he did. He was tall and handsome and you couldn’t believe how you got so lucky to have him as a friend. One that sincerely cared for you.

When you arrived at the convenient store, you greeted the old lady at the cashier. She was so lovely and always asked about your day whenever there weren’t many customers.

“Oh y/n! It’s so nice to see you and your friend! You got here just right. This is for you.” She pulled two packages of strawberry milk out of the pile of delivery boxes and handed them to you two. “I know you love it, enjoy!”

Trying to say no was impossible with her. She always insisted giving you small treats here and there. One time she told you, you reminded her of her own daughter.

“Is this your boyfriend?”

You already inserted the straw and were sipping at your milk when she asked about Joshua, causing you to choke slightly, blushing furiously. “N-no no! He’s a friend who wanted to cheer me up between all the studying!”

Not sure why you had to explain yourself because the way she was watching you two, you could see that she wasn’t fully believing you. “W-we just met outside and he wanted to accompany, right Shua?” He nodded quickly and rubbed the back of his neck a little embarrassed at the situation.  

The old lady nodded with a grin. “Well, your favorite chocolate is cheaper this week so don’t forget to take some with you.”

You missed out on the wink she gave the boy next to you with a nod in the direction of the said sweets. He beamed her a ‘thanks’ and looked around, not to look too obvious.

In the meantime, you were roaming through the aisles, lazily picking up bags of chips and crackers before joining your friend in front of the chocolate section, the strawberry milk almost empty.

He sneakily got your favorite chocolate and hid it between two other flavors before you could see it. “You have everything, y/n?” At his words, you nodded, showing him the snacks in your hands.”

“Alright, I’ll get them for you. You are the stressed one here and I hope it will ease your tension at least a little. Just show me your beautiful smile, that’s enough for me.” The moment he noticed what he just said, he bit his lip, nervousness rising up while you were looking at him with big eyes, your cheeks burning.

The clapping of the old lady pulling the both of you out of your thoughts. “Ahh… and here I am, thinking those romantic moments only exist in dramas! But it happened right in front of me! You two are so cute together!”

You never thought your face could burn like it did now, hitting Joshua’s arm and gesturing him to pay so you could get away from this embarrassing situation and he got the hint immediately.

After waving your goodbye’s, you were back outside, Joshua carrying your snacks in a little bag for you. “She’s…. nice.”

“Yeah..” you replied in a weak voice. The cold air should cool down your face as soon as possible or else you couldn’t look at your friend. You walked back slowly, both deep in thoughts when you heard the boy beside you clear his throat.

“Uhm… actually I have something for you.”

You blinked and looked down to the bag in his hand. “You have the snacks you mean?”

He chuckled and shook his head, starting to open his white cross bag and pulling out a small velvety sachet. Your friend gave it to you and once you opened it, you saw what was inside. A light green bead bracelet. The beads were all in different shades of green. You loved it but you were speechless, feeling so thankful for the snacks he paid for and now his selfmade present. In the middle were letters which formed the word ‘fighting’. 

Looking for words, Joshua became more shy after handing you his gift, his confidence gone completely when you remained quite.

“I… was just thinking about you. I wanted to give you some strength and support. Sorry, if it's out of the blue.. it’s nothing fancy or so but-”

“I love it!” You cut him off. “I really do, Shua! Thank you so much!”

You were already back in front of your apartment door as your fingers carefully rub over the beads. Without asking, he offered you to help you put it on and you watched him do so while pulling your hoodie sleeves up to reveal your wrist. He was careful not to secure it too tightly and it was difficult for him because he felt too nervous all of a sudden, the bracelet slippery between his fingers.

Pressing your lips to a thin line, you waited until he was done, suppressing your shy smile and trying hard to ignore your fast heartbeat. You admired the thoughtful present on your arm when you lift your gaze, meeting his eyes and you were sure, all air left your lungs.

Without a second thought, the handsome boy in front of you brushed a strand of hair behind you ear. “If you need another break, just tell me and I’ll be there. Any time.” He quickly turned around and walked away so you couldn’t see how pink his cheeks were, a wide smile on his lips.

As if he knew you were about to say something, he lifted his right hand and waved a good-bye before starting to run at turn at the next corner until he wasn't in sight anymore.

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Five

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.

While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.

Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.

Chapter 5

Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.

Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.

Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”

His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”

“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”

Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”

Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”

“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”

Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.

"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!

"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.

"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.

Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.

The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.

"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."

"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.

Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"

"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.

She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.

"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”

Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!

"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.

"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"

Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.

Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."

This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.

Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.

"Oh shit!"

°°°

A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.

Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.

"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.

"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"And you are...?"

Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."

Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.

Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.

"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."

"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."

"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"

Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.

"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.

Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“

Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."

"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.

"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.

“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.

A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”

Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.

°°°

“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.

"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."

"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."

Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."

Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."

"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"

"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."

The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"

What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.

"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.

°°°

He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.

“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”

Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.

“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”

Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”

If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.

°°°

Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!  

“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.

With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”

“No, the charges were dropped.”

Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.

As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."

Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.

"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.

With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."

Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.

With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"

"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.

Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.

Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.

“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.

“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”

Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“

Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.

As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.

He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”

“Tenders and fries.”

Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.

Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.

Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.

Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.

“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”

°°°

There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.

°°°

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {2}

Chapter summary; The time of the parley is finally here. You arrive at the club you and Steve decided the conference would be held. During your time there you don’t only get a face for the new mob boss, you also get a taste of his personality. 

Pairing: Steve x reader (mafia!au)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 2/5

Word; 8k

Warnings; mentions of drugs, alcohol and nicotine use, mentions of canon-type violence

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So, like... this chapter wasn’t meant to become so long but it did anyways. hehe, sorry for that one. And also, I decided that this, now after starting to write it, that it will be (at least) five chapters rather than the four I planned it to be. PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

"We're here, Miss", you looked up at your chauffeur, who already was looking back at you in the rearview mirror.

You'd been so in your own headspace the whole drive here, to where you and Steven would meet, that you hadn't noticed you arrived. There was definitely a reason, which was that you'd done everything from flicking through the complete portfolio, now including the newest document as well, that T'Challa and Shuri had put together for you about the latest Canine boss. Even your contract you'd looked over once more. Perhaps you could call it a compulsive habit of yours rather than simple caution, seeing how it always was something you felt you needed to do, even though neither of the current documents would reveal any new fact or fault.

Seemingly it was something Mr Davon, which your chauffeur's name was, had noticed regarding how he hadn't engaged in the usual conversation the two of you commonly partook in. And by how he now looked knowingly at you, confirmed it.

"Thank you, Davon", you nodded to the grey-haired man in the front seat for notifying you that you'd arrived at the club. The man in question simply smiled before opening his door and stepped out.

Despite that you insisted on doing it yourself, you knew the usual custom of him walking around the car to open the door for you would follow his exit from the vehicle. And the moment you finished gathering the files you'd read and put them into your handbag, the sound of someone unlocking your door came.

As the door swung open, you instantly heard the sound and low thumping of music, and as soon as your eyes pulled from the car's interior to instead look outside, you were met by the lazy radiance of neon. Unconsciously, you felt your nose scrunch at the scene.

Just because this property laid in one of the few neutral territories in New York didn't mean you hadn't already scouted the site. It may be no dingy and low life hood club, the pay to enter price that was quite expensive taking care of that problem. Thus, most of those coming here weren't ordinary people. It was those for which money wasn't a problem or had enough connections to be let inside. Consequently, there was no line of people outside the entrance. Still, you loathed the idea of meeting Brooklyn's Golden boy here.

Nevertheless, you needed to admit it was better than the place Steven originally had suggested, which for a fact had been in the heart of Brooklyn. It had been a hard no to enter his grounds for a conference. The same the opposite way. That was you now found yourself in the Northern part of Queens.

"Everything alright, Miss?" Your eyes snapped to Davon, who expectantly looked over the top of the door. Patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.

"Always", you flaunted a lighthearted smile, able to do so because of the adrenaline that slowly started to settle in. It always happened before each crucial business meeting. Nothing new. Hence, you did nothing but take a deep breath to contain yourself slightly as you stepped out of the car.

There hadn't been a need for a jacket when you left your office. And though the evening air was slightly colder and served a gentle breeze, the late June wheater could still be deemed warm. Therefore, your skin didn't prickle, nor did you feel chilly, while watching one of your trusted guards, which just now had talked with the bouncer, walk towards you.

"What did he say?" You asked the big man stopping in front of you. Joshua, your most entrusted bodyguard since day one, looked dapper in the darker clothes he wore. Most of the time, he wore opaque colours. Goes with the job, the brunette always says. But, the attire itself was usually laid-back, now though he didn't wear a t-shirt or jeans. Instead, the suit you'd gifted him.

"Said that the Canines been here for the last hour", your eyebrows raised at that. You may regard punctuality as one of the keys to success. As well as to get people to view you as prepared rather than tardy. But one hour ahead of the scheduled time? That wasn't punctuality. It was impatience. Steven thought this, or rather his, deal would be done and over with swiftly, it seemed.

"Very well", you opted to say, hearing the car door close behind you when you took a few steps forward.

"I wish you good luck, Miss", you looked over your shoulder, finding Mr Davon having retaken his position by the driver's door, a kind smile on his lips. The man always was polite and wished you a favourable outcome for each meeting you went to.

"I assure you when we see each other next time, that good luck will certainly have been what ensured me my deal", you responded, earning an amused chuckle from Davon.

"I sure hope so. I'll be waiting with bated breath until you come back and tell me the good news", your smile turned a little more genuine towards the man as you nodded at him a final time before following Joshua towards the club's entrance.

Your heels clicked as you moved forwards over the pavement. Even when you stepped into the marbled and luxuriously decorated foyer, did the sound echo.

There was no question that this club wasn't for everyone. If not noticeable from the entrance hall you walked through - the personnel working there simply throwing glances your way before quickly looking away - it was apparent by the nature of the club. The clean, near shining from how polished it was, environment, along with the absence of the pungent and soured smell of alcohol, served as a constant reminder.

And though the marbled floor didn't turn into a sticky carpet when Joshua lead you further in, preferably a dark tiled floor, it became clear you closed in on the actual club part of the building. The sound of your heels faded as the music increased. Quite promptly, you started to feel the bass vibrate through the floor. Likewise, could you make out the lyrics of the songs.

Past your bodyguard, you saw how the dimmed lighting you walked through were replaced by those of neons. They reflected off the floor, the polished metal features on counters and the leatherlike seatings you spotted further ahead.

Your eyes, however, were pulled from trying to observe the area ahead to Joshua when he glanced over his shoulder. It was his silent way, regarding how the music neared the louder decibel, of asking you if everything still felt fine. Regardless that you often went with his gut-feeling if a situation was safe or not, Joshua always checked with you. Chiefly, because he knew your instinct was as good as his. You'd kept yourself alive as much as he had, to be honest.

And regarding how you didn't felt anything was off at the moment, you curtly nodded to ensure him to continue. This was a parley, after all. And, on top of that, it was pure commons sense to not draw weapons on neutral grounds. Hence, no need to worry. Yet.

When once more walking forwards, you now entered the main space.

Immidetly you regarded the multiple bar counters, the dancefloor and the tables, including the people located at those places. Albeit the light was dim and the pink, blue and purple neons contorted the colours of clothes, you spotted no dress under the price tag of a couple of thousand dollars nor any suit. You even guessed the multiple glasses filled with drinks scored as ridiculously high.

Although, it wasn't to discern those things you surveyed the room. It was to find allies and foes. The former was easier. Regarding how you not only knew who your own women along the panthers were, but also because they were the sole ones meeting your gaze as your eyes roamed the space. The latter, though, was trickier. Not only because men, already surrounded by one or multiple women, lingered their eyes over you. Even a few ladies did the same thing. More so due to the fact foes were meant to blend in.

"One in the right corner, standing with the blonde. Another two, respectively sitting with the pal in a white shirt and lounging at the bar".

You'd noticed Joshua had fallen into your step, so he preferably walked alongside you then a step ahead. Although, you hadn't felt how he dipped his head, for others rather insignificantly, but which for you enabled to hear his voice as he spoke. It was an efficient way to let him communicate with you without others noticing. And though he hadn't explained what he informed you about, it was enough for you to know.

One more time, you dragged your eyes across the room, albeit not stopping significantly longer on the people the man beside you'd pointed out. Merely to hide the fact you knew, notwithstanding the conversations they were having with their company, most of their attention was on you.

"The rest?" You looked away from the scene you'd lingered by to instead look to your side. The brunette beside you had still his head tipped slightly towards you to hear if you said anything, even if his gaze was set straight forward.

"I believe they're ahead, somewhat of an equal amount watching the corridor and him", the swift action of indicating forwards made your eyes trail from Joshua's profile to look forth.

The two of you had almost wandered half the length of the circular room and up a couple of stairs, but it seemed you wouldn't need to do a whole lap to reach the end, only climb up the last fleet of steps to the uppermost part of the room. Thus now, not more than ten or so feet before you, there was an opening in the wall.

It looked like the beginning of a corridor, one which had two men stationed by it. Even though you instantly saw they must belong to Steven's troupe, the way they lounged at the hallway entrance made them look more like fellows wanting to distance themselves from the main room of the party than bodyguards. However, the way their conversation died and eyes instantly snapped to watch you when you came closer gave them away for anyone who may have looked.

Joshua now stepped in front of you, seemingly holding a brief and tense dialogue with the two men. The three of them were all the same build, tall and sturdy. Although, you didn't feel small among them. Nor did you when Joshua motioned for you to follow him in between the two chaps.

You held your head high, knowing how much these guys ever stared at you with a burning rivalry that you never would fight them. You would fight their boss.

When you headed down the corridor, with no doors adorning the walls, you could hear multiple voices, possibly one which belonged to Steven, resound lowly from the open entrance at the end.

You supposed something adorned the walls, or they'd simply been built in such a way that the further you progressed, the more they blocked the sound of music. Otherwise, you wouldn't have heard the merry laughs or chatter, nor the return of the click of your heels, when you neared the door standing ajar.

You began to smell a sweet scent as Joshua stopped in the doorway to the room. Thus, you nearly concentrated more on the smell than the way the room fell quiet. Lucky for you, you'd already encountered the aroma. Otherwise, you would've been bothered by not being able to place it.

It wasn't the aroma of a women's perfume nor food. You knew what it was. The godfathers always offered you one of the rolled tobacco's when visiting. And, the moment your dark-haired bodyguard stepped to the side to let you step over the threshold of the room, you immediately found a golden casket, opened and displaying the finest of cigars, standing on the edge of the table inside. However, your eyes didn't linger there for long. Instead, they trailed to the man you were about to meet, who was one of many already watching you, yet the sole one sitting down and smoking a cigar.

Steven Grant Rogers.

You almost slipped and showed how taken aback you were, not because of the dominating aura exuding from the man in the leather armchair, such things you were plenty used to. But no, it was as of a fact his looks.

He was young, much younger than you'd thought. If to decide by his appearance, Steven must've been born close after his father's death. You would never have guessed when knowing of the age his father passed and concerning how he operated his empire and the rivalry against you. From this, the man definitely fitted the older generation. But no, it seemed he apparently didn't belong there.

"Nice to finally have a face for the man that's been testing my patience lately", you broke the silence that had covered the room like a lid. Though you awaited the same reaction you would've had to such a comment - which would've been nothing more than a smile regarding how you couldn't bother to display any prominent reply - Steven did the complete opposite.

He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble of amusement. You almost wondered if his voice would be equally as low or if it all was a consequence of smoking the cigar he for the moment held limply between his finger. Apparently, you would get an answer to that quicker than you imagined. And the answer was his voice was like that of molasses, deep and rich.

"I took the liberty to prepare a drink for you", the Canine boss motioned, with a nod, towards the identical leather armchair on the opposite side of the table and the small stand beside it. You spotted the same crystal glass you had at home resting upon it, with a deep amber liquid in it. Whiskey. "Would you have preferred on the rocks?"

Your eyes tracked back to Steven, who currently reached for his own glass. Which similar to yours stood on the small table beside his seat. He made the small move without averting his gaze from you.

"I actually prefer it neat", he cocked his head as you said this.

His hair was not cut short or trimmed neatly like all those men before him. Instead, it reached the nape of his neck. No pomade or other product kept it out of his face. It simply looked like he'd ran his hands through it once and for some magical reason, it had stayed like that without looking greasy. But it was because he seemingly hadn't put any product in that one of the strands, shifting from brown to dark blonde, had fallen slightly out of order when he'd moved his head. Nevertheless, seeing as it had done nothing but come to rest against his cheekbone, Steven paid it no attention.

"What suggests it's neat?" This time, you cocked your head.

"I simply presumed you didn't take yours any other way", as you stated this, a smile began to ghost the man's lip.

"Be my guest, then", Steven replied, raising a hand to gesture towards the empty armchair opposite him.

You simply smiled at the invitation, walking forwards with back straight and head held high, no matter you were the sole one making a sound in the room and all the eyes were on you. Even as you sat down in the leather chair, you didn't wince at how the material groaned when finally being forced to change its state of unoccupied.

To be sitting opposite the man that you for days had prepared to meet was totally different than what you'd expected. Not only because you awaited an older, a much older heir of the Canine Empire, also because the man now watching you with blue eyes that pierced your stare back evoked a challenge.

You understood why Shuri thought this would be interesting now, even though you still found this whole matter nothing but bothersome. Steven could possibly be the sole person to actually put up a hurdle for you.

"What do you say, should we let our fellow companions leave so we can start?" Even though the man had stated it as a question, he waved his fingers directly afterwards, dismissing his guards as if it had been a command for you to follow. And therefore, you simply leaned further into the back of the leather seat, one leg hooking over the other. Making your heeled shoe relaxed in the air.

You would not follow his command that easy.

"Not that clever to send out your guards before the opposing part agrees", you regarded how your words made one of Steven's bodyguards stop on the threshold out of the room. The brunette with shoulder-length hair didn't stay there for long, though, concerning how his boss's minimal nod served as enough of command to continue out.

"Concerning this is a parley, I doubt you would dare kill me", there was a mockery in his voice that you disliked, despite your reasoning earlier had been the same.

"Doubt it", his eyes narrowed when you said this. Moreover, he also deposited both his glass of whiskey and his cigar in its hold. The smoke from the rolled tobacco whirled up in a thin line from the table. Instead, then a cloud from his lips as previously.

"I know you don't like to get your hands dirty", Steven said, the hand which had rested on the armrest coming to stroke his bearded jaw. Despite the facial hair, you knew there laid a sharp edge underneath it, separating his throat and face. Hence, his beard followed that line with an undeceiving definition. "So why do I own the pleasure?"

"I never said I would be the one pulling the trigger", even if I dreamt to, you thought to yourself as you looked back at Joshua. Ever the guard he was, his eyes only momentarily shifted from the mob boss facing you to meet your glance before he vigilantly went back to observing Steven. You looked back at the Canine whose eyes seemingly had trailed to watch your bodyguard the same instance you had but by now snapped back to you. "And not even you, as the parasite that you are, deserves a bullet coming from my gun".

Instantly you saw the tick enter Steven's jaw when he clenched it. You very well knew that your choice of word for him would push his buttons. Like every last godfather, he was a prideful man. And like you'd played them like strings ever since reaching the top, so you would do to the man in front of you. That was why you raised your hand from tapping on the armrest of your seat.

You heard the move Joshua did at your action, even hinted at it in your peripheral. Although, instead of concentrating on the gun that he'd unholstered and pointed Steven's way, your eyes stayed on the later mentioned man.

Presumably, the mob boss was staring down the barrel of the gun. But there was no frown etched upon his forehead, displaying a worry. Nor were there any tenseness in his body as he languidly sank further back in the armchair, legs splayed wide and arms resting on top of the armrest.

Steven slowly turned then, from watching the gun aimed at him, to meet your gaze.

"Do it. You'll just get all my allies over you".

"Let them come. I'll win. After all, you requested this meeting when you knew you were about to lose", another jab at Steven's pride, one he took personally this time, you saw it by the glint entering his eyes. But, rather than putting him out of his misery and ridding yourself of a thorn in your side. You dropped your hand completely rather than flick your index and long finger down, which was the signal to shoot.

"But, seeing as I'm already humble enough to give you the chance to meet me rather than grinding you to dust, I'll continue on that track for the moment", you hummed while you heard Joshua sheath his gun again.

"How grateful I am", the stinge of terseness was evident in Steven's voice as he spoke, but you paid it no mind, just gave him the slight raise of your eyebrows as if to convey a silent 'as you should'. "And now the guard, so we can start".

You'd gotten your point across to him. Therefore, you didn't hesitate to order Joshua to wait outside during the negotiation this time.

"Are you...", you didn't let the brunette finish his sentence before you shot him a look, which was enough for Joshua to understand you were indeed sure. You followed the back of your trusted guard, who trailed the same path as Steven's had a few minutes prior. And not until he disappeared and instead gave the view of a now-closed door did you redirect your eyes back to the Canine boss.

For some reason, it felt like it got lighter in the room, not simply as in the heavy silence of multiple added presences. More so that the lamps, not the same as the neon ones outside, shone brighter. Perhaps, it was because only you and Steven were left, giving it a vaster opportunity to spread.

It made you remark and notice even further details about the mob boss. Not only did it lighten his eyes, but it also made the shifting of brown and dark blonde locks contrast considerably with what he wore.

You didn't talk about a slightly too large suit, which you often refrained from remarking how ill-fitted they were to the godfathers, seeing as they were the sole ones wearing them. No, Steven... you knew he'd chosen to wear what he did to make an impression. Why else was there any need for a three-piece suit, all in black on top of that? Maybe the same reason as you'd chosen your attire, power. He wanted to show he was the top dog. Only, he was forgetting that if he were no bear, the felines were amongst the apex predators, no canine in sight.

For the passing moments, neither of you said anything, simply sat there watching each other. Observing each other.

He was a man fit for the role of a mob boss. Thus Steven had that aura one simply possessed or not. He evokes the need to be respected, to be feared. Therefore, you guessed leading came naturally for him. And that his physics -which you discerned to be great, by the how he almost dwarfed the armchair he sat in- only was a measurement to further establish his status as alpha.

In other words, he was the one who your eyes would draw to first when stepping into a room and also the last when bidding goodbye.

"Are you impatient?" Your jaws clenched when the canine boss broke the silence saying this. As well did your nails, which had been rapping against the leathered armrest, stop when he tipped his head in such way he told you he noticed the movement.

"I am not you, Steven", you retorted, which simply made the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. You raised a brow at his reaction. The amount of amusement and overall cockiness he returned your comments with steadily made you, despite what you said, rather impatient to get this over with. Yet, it seemed Steven had no hurry whatsoever now when you were waiting for him to begin.

He looked away from you, the smirk tugging in the corner of his lips remaining there as he reached for the whiskey glass he previously had put down. Your gaze, however, didn't stray from the man opposite you. Consequently, making your eyes trail his profile while he took a sip of the alcohol, savouring the taste by the looks of it.

When he lowered the glass, swirling its contents gently, his gaze found yours. He didn't remark how your eyes never ventured from him and around the room to inspect it further, not really that it was much to see.

"Call me Steve", he said, which made your eyebrows lift. Either he offered you a nickname, or it was just what most called him. Still, both were unusual seeing the setting the two of you were in. "And to sate your wonder why I ain't starting this meeting, we'll begin as soon as one last member joins us", you felt a tenseness stiffen your body when Steven, Steve, so nonchalantly had told you this. You may have underestimated the canine boss somewhat. Because seemingly, he was blatantly good at reading people. Perhaps that was why you compelled your voice to sound even more indifferent than before when responding.

"Thought you said this was a private affair".

"Oh, it is, our entertainment won't hear a thing", not even before you could think that you feared the worst from his statement did the sound of a door opening catch your attention.

You noticed in your peripheral how this time it was your turn to be the single one averting your eyes, concerning how you felt Steve continued observing you when you looked away from him. Though you despised the equal amount of curiosity and caution that had made you look towards the entrance at the moment, it was done and you couldn't more than proceed to look at the person now entering the room.

It was not any sort of guard, concerning how the man entering wasn't of the same build as either Joshua, or any of Steve's men. On top of that, he seemed incredibly timid, not only by how silently he tried closing the door behind him but also by the hurried steps he approached the end of your table with.

"Mr Rogers", the man nodded at the mob boss when close enough. "Miss Y/L/N", he quickly repeated the greeting your way while completely stopping at the end of the table. "I'll just prepare the set-up for you and..."

"Good", Steve answered before the man finished, effectively cutting him off. You felt the side of your nose twitch by the dark blonde man's blunt way of stopping the club worker from talking. Steve certainly lived up to his reputation of doing as he pleased with no regard for others.

You probably would've huffed if you didn't already know the Canine boss would understand why. And, to be honest, you tried reducing the number of remarks leaving him, concerning how the meeting hadn't even started and you were fed up with his persona already.

So, instead of commenting on Steve's attitude, you watched the man who had entered the room put up a metal case on the table.

You hadn't noticed it earlier, even though the crate, made of aluminium, was quite eye-catching. But now, when you had, you knew before it was opened and revealed rows and rows of tokens as well as a set of cards that it had been a poker set.

This time, you couldn't help but cock an eyebrow, unimpressed by Steve's attempt of entertainment. Maybe you were more old school than you thought, seeing how the Canine boss kept surprising you with his way of handling a conference.

"Poker?" You questioned out loud when swiftly glancing up at Steve, who, while you looked away, had reached for his cigar, puffing on it slightly.

"Hope you know how to play", he said amusedly, blowing out the lungful of smoke he inhaled right before answering you. It travelled across the table but evaporated before reaching you, albeit the sweet scent still did.

You refrained from answering him. Simply settled on switching which leg crossed which, while grasping the whiskey glass.

The russet liquid was almost soothing in its taste, despite the burning sensation in the back of your throat after swallowing it. It was sweet at the same time that it was spicy, giving your tastebuds the imagination that caramel and cinnamon dwelled on them. You relished in the taste while following the man setting up the oncoming poker game.

He'd placed the dealer chip before himself and was currently shuffling the cards. It was clear it was his profession by how smoothly he did it.

Hence, not until he seemed satisfied did he put them down beside the box and redirected his eyes to flicker between you and Steve.

"How many chips do you desire?" The dealers gaze had locked with yours as he asked the question, yet before you could answer him, you were cut off short.

"We'll take ten thousand worth of chips each", you glanced at Steve as he said this.

"Deciding to become a gentleman all of a sudden?" You remarked while the dealer started to stack the number of tokens the man opposite you had requested. A tug tilted the dark-blonde mob boss mouth upwards into a smirk.

"I'm always a gentleman".

"A gentleman would've offered a higher amount", his smile dropped. "This was a forced act of charity".

"This is nothing more than entertainment to pass our time during our meeting", he got defensive. You heard it by how sharply he worded the sentence.

"Who said passing time should be done cheaply?" It was clear you didn't want Steve to answer, by how you neglected him of any further attention by looking elsewhere.

While your and Steve's short conversation had taken place, you'd missed how efficiently the dark-haired man had dealt out not only each of your chips but also your individual pair of cars. Even the aluminium case was off the table.

"Are you ready to begin?" You only met the dealer's eyes momentarily before looking at Steve.

"If the gentleman is, so am I".

"You heard the lady", as much mockery that you'd accentuated the title aimed at him, as much did he put on the one he returned to you. You didn't take ill, simply peeked at your cards, a two and eight, both spades, before starting the first round of betting by chucking two hundred worth of chips into the pot.

The dealer nodded, understanding the first game had begun. Thus, looking expectantly at the Canine boss for his move. Steve looked at his cards before calling as well. Meaning the dealer could show the first three cards you would play after.

The flop was turned up quickly despite the awkward placing the man had at the end of the table. Seven of hearts, two of clubs and eight of spades was the first batch of cards. So far, you only sat on a pair of eights. Not great.

"So, Steve, tell me now when our entertainment has started, why have I bothered to come here?" You shortly diverted your eyes from the game to grab your glass of whiskey. Once you looked upon the table again, the fourth street card was presented, queen of diamonds. You called.

"I'm here to offer you a deal", as expected, you thought to yourself and withstood the urge to roll your eyes, not solely because of what he'd said but also that he raised the bet. He was sure he would win.

"Speak up then", you spoke after sipping your drink.

You knew the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth wasn't from what one could read as impatience from you -which it wasn't, just a command- but rather that the last card turned for this round much have matched what he desired. And the card had been the queen of spades. Thus, instead of following his raised bet with a call or even a further raise, you checked. Steve called.

When the dealer confirmed the round was over and it was time for showdown, you and the mob boss opposite you both flipped your cards visible for the other. As you guessed, he'd won and it was on queens, three of a kind.

While the dealer pushed the pot of this game towards Steve and quickly went on with collecting the cards and reshuffling them, the Canine finally looked at you.

"Concerning how you ventured into my territory the last few months, I want you to pull back all your dealings with everyone on my side of New York, no matter how big or small", you cocked a brow at Steve's demand.

"You were the one overstepping the border to my area first. I only answered", you reminded the mob boss while the next poker-round began. You had better cards this time, a jack and a nine.

"And that's my deal, sweetheart", he began once he'd followed your call and once more, the flop was turned. You didn't even pay attention to the cards, as your eyes snapped up to him and nose scrunched at the nickname he used for you. "If you don't pull back your advances in Brooklyn, I'll continue painting your streets red".

It was how brazenly he stated that he wouldn't stop the killing that made your jaws clench. If this hadn't been a conversation eye to eye, preferably over the phone where you could mute yourself if needed, you would've put down your whiskey glass a lot less gently. But now, only the awaited echo of crystalline glass settling on the marble side-table sounded.

"So you want me to pull back my offence? Solely for you to stop the killing? Not pull back your forces from Manhattan, just stop picking off my allies?" You questioned him, instinctively checking to not bother with the game.

"You heard it", was all Steve said as he followed your act of checking, consequently making the last card become turned without any further bet placed than the initial one.

You continued observing the dark-blonde man. His eyes, albeit the light blue could trick you, conveyed no humour. So he was serious.

You didn't know if that made things better or simply made you lose all and any hope in a man that tried running an empire this way. You'd expected a poor deal to come from him. But this, this wasn't just bad. It was ridiculous.

You definitely hadn't been playing to win this round. Which, when you absentmindedly called before the showdown, became apparent. You got two pair on your jack and nine. Commonly, you would've bet a little more on that. Although seeing how Steve got four of a kind with his ten's, whatever you didn't do wouldn't have mattered. Your hand wasn't enough to win.

"Do you think that's how you run an empire?" You broke the silence quite harshly. At least it was enough for the man distributing the pot and collecting the cards to jerk slightly. But you didn't care about him. Closer to the truth was that you all but ignored his shuffling in your peripheral. What you concentrated on was the rise of Steve's eyebrow at your remark.

"It works, doesn't it. Or do you have any pointers on how you think I should run it, sweetheart?" The dog had really crawled under your skin, as Shuri had said.

"You shouldn't run it as your father", you wanted to snap at him. Instead, you levelled your voice, forced it to not turn shrill with agitation. And it struck a nerve, not his pride but a nerve. It was clear by how Steve remained leaned forward after having inspected his new set of cards. "Your visionary is old-school. To remain in control and run an empire, you need to be able to read the future. At the moment, all you have is just a dirty business".

"Dirty? You ain't really the cleanest angel in this world when picking of my men", you definitely had struck a nerve, seeing how his voice had become thicker but more powerful.

However, despite Steve's try to show his authority, you waved of his clap-back dismissively while leaning forwards and not more than tipping the edge of your own cards to see the suit and symbol. A queen and an Ace, both decorated with the sigil of a spade. You withheld showing the amusement towards both the Canine boss and his outburst and the feeling of finally having a game that would be yours to win.

"I've never said I was. But, even those killing on my order is smooth and precise. No tracks. Which is quite contrasting to your manslaughter", thanks to Steve already resting his forearms on his knees, the mob boss swift move of following your raised bet even before the first three cards was presented went fast.

You couldn't help but glance up at him for a short second before looking down again to the new card the dealer turned. A smirk now threateningly close to spreading. Because what you'd seen was a pair of blue eyes growing darker than any brown eyes ever been. And those eyes were set on you rather than the first poker game you had any genuine interest in.

"You've got your point across. You ain't ready to put a bullet between someone's eyes to clear a hurdle..."

"Clearly, I haven't gotten my point across if you misunderstood it", you cut Steve off halfway through his sentence, one you knew would've ended in a demand for a yes or no answer on the deal he oh so kindly offered.

Before looking up at him, you made your move in the poker game, a call. Steve, who still had his eyes trained on you, chucked a random amount of chips into the pot, resulting in not only a three doubled raise than what the original call had been but also for the round to continue to the last card.

"What I meant, Steve, is that I'm ready to fight for what I've created. Though, compared to you, I know people are resources, not constant hurdles", you said, eyes tracking down to the last card now resting upon the table. "Together with this, the cogs upholding your empire are getting rusty and soon won't be able to be changed at all because the model is too old. You invest in nightclubs and any other category of clubs where one can drink themselves stupid, along with other businesses that even I, who run a syndicate, frown upon. It ain't sustainable, so why would I ever seal a deal with you, knowing your empire will crumble in a few years? Give me one good reason".

You didn't need to look up and away from the table to see how the Canine boss fisted his hands, that you saw anyways.

"You've just pointed out why you should seal the deal while you can", this, however, made your gaze turn upwards to meet his. "You may be ready to fight, but how dirty? I invest in things that make money. I pave my own way instead of hesitantly following an already existing one. I'll be the one surviving because if something ever malfunctions in my empire, I won't be put in a situation unfamiliar to me, unlike you. If your perfectly built skyscraper suddenly gets hits by an earthquake, it ain't built to withstand it".

"As I said, give me one good reason and I'll even entertain the thought of considering your deal", you let yourself remain unfazed by Steve's previous threat. Because even though he hit his head on some points, what he'd said wasn't reason, just intimidation.

"It's the best decision for your little empire, sweetheart". The condescending manner he said it this in made you, even though your blood steadily began to boil by the audacity of yet another wealthy and power-hungry mob boss to speak down to you, simply glance down at the two cards laying face down before you.

There was no need to look at them once more. You wouldn't forget a queen of spades and ace of spades existed there. You would especially not forget it when ten of spades, jack of spades and the king of spades rested among the five upturned community cards.

"If you're brave enough to call me sweetheart, are you brave enough to go all-in?" You pushed all your chips into the pot as you said this. When looking up at Steve after that, the first thing you were met by was the cocky look on his face. It was all created by that quirk of his brow, the proud look in his eyes telling you how wrong your decision had been. And that he, without hesitation, mimicked your move.

However, you knew the Canine boss lost all the money he'd put into the game the moment he did. When he put his hand down, showing the straight flush of hearts, numbered from king to nine, it was simply a fact.

"Show me your cards, sweetheart", you only tipped your head, flipping your cards to lay flat on the table, open for the man opposite you to see.

There was no need for you to watch your royal flush. Thus, you simply watched the change on Steve's face. His smirk shifted into a thin line. His arrogant appearance trickled away in a ripple, initiated from the twitch by the side of his nose. Your victory didn't only irk him. He loathed it.

"You're rash and impatient and forgets to think when your temper takes over. You see, Steve, that's why you may win the first few matches, but not the league. So, should I really listen to you speaking about what's best for me when you can't even win a little game of poker?" You caught how his eyes snapped up to glare at you but paid it no mind as you turned towards the dealer.

"Could you collect the chips and transfer them to cash?" You asked the dark-haired men, who, with a swift nod, answered your question.

"What's your name?" The man glanced at Steve, obviously noting that the one who'd hired him for the evening wasn't in the best mood.

You had heard the rumour of Steve being a charmer, which settled deals easy most of the time. However, you also heard that the Canine boss was quick, if not quicker, to take out the gun if his charm didn't do the job. Regarding how cautious this man was, whatever the dark-blonde man still glaring daggers at you had done to rent either his service or this whole club hadn't contained faith, simply fear.

That was why you didn't push any further for a name.

"Very well, keep the money as a tip", the dealer swiftly snapped his head to look at you, eyes wide.

"B-but..."

"I have no use for it and seeing as you did a good job, you earned it", your voice, albeit softer and not as foul as when directed at Steve, didn't leave any room for discussion. This the dark-haired man also understood, as he gave you a small smile as thanks and hastily collected the tokens.

Within a minute, the former dealer had arranged all the chips that he would trade for the hefty amount they were worth, along with the rest of the poker material he'd had with him. And once done, he only left with an appreciative nod towards you, rather than both you and Steve as he'd done when first entering.

It was in the echo of the door shutting that you finally looked at Steve again. His eyes were heated, but you couldn't but smile at him instead of answering with a similar scowl.

"Steven, like this poker game shown, not only was my hand valued higher than yours but so is my empire. I do not hear any bargain coming from you about how you should've won this game or how we should meet in a middle that favoured you more than me, despite that your hand was a straight flush while mine was a royal flush. So, why are you doing it with my empire?" You uncrossed your legs, leaning forward similarly as he had done for the past minutes. "Rules are rules, are they not? And if we follow the rules of poker, that means the highest rank of hands is set to win. Therefore, I'm the one who should go winning out of this deal you try to settle with me too", he was grinding his jaws and you guessed his mind was grinding equally as hard.

"You seem to forget that luck is a big part of the game". Steve's voice was more a gruff sound than anything else.

"Oh, but I haven't", you hummed, leaning backwards until your back leaned into the spine of your leathered stool.

Reaching for your whiskey glass, you simply held it for a minute, an index finger tapping against the side, while letting your eyes glide over the Canine boss.

"You see, your success is all about luck. You're an only child, your father's golden boy. Of course, you get to inherit the empire he established before you because he believes you'll be able to rule it with the same grace as he. Why you took so long to step into the role, though, is a mystery. But I didn't mind, seeing as you left room for more suitable individuals to take The Canines former position", he leaned backwards again when you said this and you knew it was a reaction connected solely to your words. Once again, you'd struck a weak spot because he remained silent as his features became pinched and hands gripped the armrests.

"Compared to you, though, my route has been tough, self-learnt and mastered. Upon that, I have a cover, I got money from working and through business choices those sums only raised. You may be the luck of the game, but I am the one with the skill".

"Only because the rest of the world thinks your fortune is a lucky investment, everyone in this world knows the truth, no matter how much you try to hide it. Your money is as dirty as mine", the octave Steve's voice had dropped into to display whatever threat or resentment he held for you at the moment, made you chuckle rather than shy away from him.

"But I try to wipe the dirt off of them at least".

"What? With your charity galas to raise money for those who need it? It's the biggest joke I ever heard".

It was always amusing to hear someone resent your charity galas because you believed anyone could and would hold them if they simply wanted to. But to take up a gun, shoot someone and then hide was more manageable than to execute a double-sided play.

"It may be a joke to you, Rogers, but I keep my facade up to ensure my and my empires survival. You have already crumbled by not caring how much blood that drips in the wake of your name", you stated. When continuing, you cocked your head to the side as if you spoke to a child. "So you know what, the best thing you can do for your empire is to sign my deal", while you'd talked, you also reached for the folder containing the contract. And, it was with a blasé edge you threw it before him on the table.

"If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way", you took a last sip of th whiskey before putting it down on the table separating you rather then the side table it was meant to stand on. "Great doing business with you, Steven".

You didn't wait for a reply nor refusal before you rose from the leather armchair with your handbag in your grasp. Walking towards the door and the impending sound of the clubs blaring music, you left the mob boss that had dared to challenge you behind.

Series taglist:

@fanfic-love-show @gabycamargo22​ @fckdeusername​

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Hi! You're by far my favorite writer for the man himself so I wanted to ask you.. can we plleeasse get a super sweet and passionate morning sex smutty-fluffer with Mr. Washington? Maybe the two of them had a stressful week at work/school or something and they decided to drive up to the lodge to escape by themselves for a long weekend together?? I'm on a massive Josh kick right now, there isn't enough love for him 😫😫

13. sleepy sex 14. being ridden

Another perfect place to answer two requests—I’m feeling accomplished! I love you all so much 💋

Also, this sucker is almost 3,000 words. I SWEAR I try to answer your prompts quickly on days like this, but sometimes, a story happens. Well, if this can even be considered a “story” ����

* * * * *

Every year, Josh Washington hosted one hell of a summer-kick-off party at his parents’ lodge. He watched the weather like he was auditioning for a job on the local news, carefully choosing the warmest, clearest day. Despite the label of “summer,” the temperature in the Rockies at the lodge only ever flirted with anything near 75°F (23°C) yet Josh insisted, every year, that it was a “pool party” and that guests shouldn’t wear much more than a swimsuit.

At least that’s what your mutual friend, Chris, had explained to you.

It had been a stressful final month of school—exams, moving out of your dorm and back home with your parents, finding a summer job—so when Josh finally chose a date for the party, you requested the weekend off and offered to help him get things set up.

Josh eyed you suspiciously, considering that you and he had been engaged in a sort of “will they, won’t they” dance for the past few months. You were locked in a battle wondering if he just wanted to check you off his list as another notch in his bedpost, and he was wondering if you even liked him as more than a flirting buddy, considering you seemed to have quite a lot of those.  

“You sure?”

“Totally!”

Josh took your phone and typed in the address for the lodge. “Can you come up Thursday? That way we have all day Friday to get ready.”

You nodded and plucked your phone out of his hand, but not before he tightened his grip, making you look up and smile at him as you tugged on it.

“Gimme. Or I won’t come up at all.”

Josh released his grip with his trademark grin before he schooled his features into a contortion of pain as he gripped his chest. “Call the medic! I’m wounded. My heart’s been plucked from my chest,” he exaggeratedly panted.

You tried to stifle your grin, knowing it only encouraged his antics, but how could you not smile at that adorable goof?

* * *

The drive up to the Washington Lodge was fantastic for your stress level—nothing but empty roads, gorgeous scenery, and all the cheesiest, upbeat pop music you could cram onto a playlist. When you finally parked your car behind Josh’s in the horseshoe driveway, you were humming the lyrics of the last song as you pulled your weekender bag from the backseat.

After you slammed the door shut and rounded the car, you looked up at the lodge and whistled.

“Jeee-sus.” You knew Josh’s folks were rich, but this was the kind of rich you had only ever seen on Instagram … or maybe on an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. It was so intimidating, it made you think twice about Josh.

He was just so … normal. Well, normal in a film-nerdy, goofball kinda way, but he never struck you as someone who grew up in a bubble of privilege.

It was close to 8:30 pm, but daylight still persisted and the pinkish sky lit up Josh’s face as he stepped onto the porch and looked down at you while you still stared open-mouthed at the lodge.

“Was the drive okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah it was great,” you said as you shook your head and climbed the stairs. “Josh—this place is … insane.”

“You’ve never been here?”

You shook your head no.

Josh frowned and thought for a moment. “I guess I forgot we haven’t known each other that long. You sure feel like an old chum, lil buddy,” he said as he slung an arm around your shoulders and walked you into the house.

“Chum? ‘Lil’ buddy?” you said with amusement.

Josh cleared his throat and removed his arm, nervously running one hand through his freshly cut hair. “What else should I call you?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, a small smile on your face. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

Josh grinned, his face lighting up as his white teeth flashed, and butterflies unexpectedly danced in your stomach.

“Let me show you around.”

* * *

The house was just as impressive on the inside, and when Josh finally showed you his room, you flopped on his king-sized bed and begged him to never make you leave. He laughed and made you promise not to move a muscle as he dashed out of the room, returning in about 15 minutes with food, drinks, extra pillows, and a stack of DVDs tucked under his chin as he tried to balance it all. He kicked the door shut, nearly spilling a bowl of popcorn he had tucked under his arm.

“Now you’re my prisoner,” he attempted to declare, but given the comical way he was shuffling toward the bed, you could do nothing other than laugh.

As he deposited everything onto the comforter, you asked, “DVDs? Is there even a TV in here?”

“Au contraire, lil lady. Behold!”

Josh walked over to the wall and slid the wooden paneling open, revealing a huge flatscreen. “Ta-da!”

“I really could stay here forever,” you mumbled as you kicked off your shoes and scooted to the top of the bed.  

“But don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in your PJs? Unless, of course, you sleep in the buff? And in that case, you would absolutely be more comfortable in your PJs,” Josh finished as he settled onto the bed next you, his elbow propping him up as he laid on his side to face you.

“If I came out of your bathroom naked, you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself, Joshua Washington.”

“You’re right. I’d die of happiness,” he confirmed with a smile.

The room felt a lot hotter than it did a moment ago, so you sat up and looked down at Josh, his big green eyes bursting with affection.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” you promised with a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

* * *

As it turned out, the night passed chastely. You were a lot more tired than you had thought, and halfway through the first movie, your hand still sitting in the bowl of popcorn, you fell asleep.

When your breathing deepened and it became clear you weren’t going to wake up, Josh chuckled as he removed your hand from the bowl. He cleared off the bed and turned off the TV before snuggling into your side and quickly falling asleep.

Sunlight streaming through a huge window woke you up with a start. For a moment, you forgot where you were until you shifted under the weight of Josh’s arm. You smiled as you felt him stir, the arm wrapped around your waist tightening as he burrowed between your shoulder blades, probably trying to unconsciously hide from the sun.

Squinting, you shuffled out of bed and fiddled with the blinds until you figured out how to draw them. The room darkened to a greyish hue and Josh rolled over, seemingly still asleep. Since you were up, you went in to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the sink, you looked at your reflection.

A slight blush colored your cheeks as you thought about how much you wanted to wake up like this again, preferably after figuring out if the big dick jokes the boys directed at Josh were because he actually was well-endowed or if they were just being idiots.

You had left your bag in here after changing last night, so you dug around for your toiletry case to retrieve your toothbrush.

After adjusting your tank top and sleep shorts, you gave your just-brushed hair a sexy tousle and glanced longingly at your lip gloss container.

“Too much,” you said with a dismissive shake of your head. You piled everything back into your bag, and exited the bathroom, hoping Josh was still asleep.

As you rounded the corner the bathroom was tucked into, you felt that familiar hot flush creep over your cheeks as you took in Josh’s form.

In your absence, he had sprawled out in the middle of the bed. He was on his stomach, his hands tucked under his pillow as he faced away from the window. His chocolatey-colored curls had lost their definition in the night and stood out against his light-grey pillowcase in a wild puff. The blankets were pushed down to his waist and the plain white t-shirt he had worn to bed was pushed up to his midback, exposing an expanse of light brown skin. His legs were spread, one foot sticking out from under the messy pile of blankets and you had to tamp down the temptation to see if he was ticklish.

You slid back into bed and settled on your side so you could face him. Tentatively, you reached out with your finger and ran it gently down his spine. His skin was smooth and the depression of his spine contrasted so deliciously with the strong muscles of his lower back that you wanted nothing more than to trace that indentation with your tongue.

Still touching him lightly, Josh stirred, his arms flexing as he stretched them before lifting his head and turning to look at you.

“Hi,” he said, his grin half-hidden by his bicep.

“Good morning.”

“Sorry. Forgot to pull the blind.”

“So you were awake?”

“Just waiting to see how much of me you’d touch if you thought I was asleep. Pervert,” Josh teased.

You opened your mouth in mock-offense and smacked his shoulder. “Rude.”

He chuckled and stretched again before he wriggled out from the blankets and stood, offering a mumbled, “Be right back,” as he made his way to the bathroom.

Josh wasn’t gone long, but it was long enough for your eyes to slip shut, a smile still on your face as you thought about him.

When you felt the bed dip, your eyes popped open.

“Sleepy girl?” Josh asked, his hand crawling under your tank top to rest on your bare stomach.

The heat radiating from his palm scorched through your body, a pool of arousal settling between your thighs.

“Not anymore,” you whispered as you looked at him, your eyes locked on his as you slid your hand along his arm, resting it on top of his.

Josh pulled his hand from beneath yours, off of your stomach and up to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek and slid closer, his body warm and connected with yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

In answer, you pulled him to you by the front of his shirt, causing both of you to softly sigh as your lips connected and began to move. You both tasted like the spearmint of Josh’s toothpaste, and when his tongue licked along the seam of your lips, you opened for him, the tips of your tongues touching before he dove into your mouth.

You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were both a panting mess, the blankets twisted around your legs, your once-sexily tasseled hair once again a mess, and Josh’s poof of curls even more wild than they had been against his pillow from you running your fingers through them, scraping across his scalp and around the back of his head.

Reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt, you tugged until he detached himself from your mouth so he could pull it the rest of the way off. You seized the momentary lull to push him onto his back, and as you sat up, you pulled off your tank top, Josh’s pupils dilating as he watched your breasts bounce.

Immediately, his hands reached for them, but you pulled back as you wiggled out of your shorts. Josh licked his lips and followed suit, pulling off his sleep pants. You glanced at the outline of his cock beneath his boxer-briefs and smirked.

“They weren’t just jokes,” you mused as you reached out and gripped him, pulling a mix between a moan and a chuckle from his throat.

It was your turn to control the kissing, so you straddled his hips and lowered your body to rest on top of his, once again relishing in the warmth of him and the masculine scent that seemed to be a mixture of expensive cologne and something that was just … Josh.

His hands roamed over your back and your backside, kneading and massaging as you kissed him—lips, jaw, neck, and when you sat up to catch your breath, he begged, “Ride me. Please.”

Again, that electric heat shot through your body and you knew your pussy was a mess for him. He reached up, finally able to wrap his big hands over your breasts, and you leaned back, grinding on his cock as he worked your nipples gently pulling on them before he leaned up to capture one in his mouth.

You shuddered as he sucked, his green eyes looking up at you, full of unabashed want and affection. He moved his mouth to your other nipple and you thought you might spontaneously combust if you didn’t slide his dick inside of your body within the next three breaths.

“Do we need protection? I’m on the pill.”

“Are you asking me if I’m a slut?” Josh said as he nuzzled between your breasts.

“Yes,” you answered, not caring if it sounded callous.

“I’m clean—and you?” he queried, laying back onto his pillows.

“Me too,” you answered before pulling down his underwear and moaning as you palmed his dick.

“Such a big boy,” you praised before looking up at him. “Tell me why we waited this long?”

“How about after we fuck?” Josh suggested, leaning up to tug at your panties.

With a huff of laughter, you slid your underwear off and returned to straddle him, sliding your soaking pussy lips over his cock until it glistened.

A whiny moan slid out from Josh as he watched and his strong hands reached up to grasp your hips and tilt them, the tip of his cock finally sliding inside your body. You adjusted the top half of him, sliding up and down a few times before taking him in all the way, both of you letting out a whoosh of breath once he was fully sheathed.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his big cock. “Wow!”

Josh snorted and gave your ass a light smack.

“See what you were missin’ out on?”  

“Mmm,” you hummed as you began to ride him, slowly and purposefully, not wanting your first time together to be over in a flash.

“You feel so fucking good,” Josh stated as his hands slid over your body. “So good.”

The rhythm you settled into was natural, even lazy, like you had been fucking for years. It felt so right, to be here with Josh, to feel him moving inside of you as you locked eyes, both of you shedding your protective layers and letting yourselves feel exposed, finally knowing that all each of you would see in return would be a sweet tenderness, the kind that could easily turn into love.

“Touch me,” you breathed, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs so he could have full access to your clit.

Josh’s fingers immediately went to work, stimulating your swollen clit. The sweat blossoming across his brow in tandem with the flush of red settling over his chest told you he was trying his best not to come before you did.

“Come, Josh. Come for me,” you commanded as you clenched your inner walls around him and swirled your hips.

His thumb stuttered across your clit until he couldn’t do anything other than grasp your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass bruisingly as he cried out, his hot cum flooding your pussy while you rode him through his climax.

He looked beautiful as he came, his eyes widening before slamming shut as a series of gravelly groans fell from his parted lips.

Swallowing for breath and still hard inside of you, Josh flipped you onto your back and reached between your thighs, furiously working your clit until you came, clenching around his softening cock.

Josh said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in your ears. You shook your head and raised your hand, silently begging him to give you a minute.

Josh placed light kisses across the heated skin of your chest, before shifting slightly so his weight wasn’t crushing you.

“What was it you said?” you asked when you could finally form a sentence.  

Josh looked into your face, smiling. “That good, huh?”

You giggled and smacked his shoulder, again. “That was not what you said.”

His face turned serious as he nodded, clearly building his resolved to repeat his spontaneous emission.

“Will you be my girlfriend? I … I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing.”

You were speechless as your eyes roamed his face, your mind wondering how you got so lucky.

“Yeah. I wanna be your girl, Josh.”

“Fuck yeah!” he yelled, rolling over and pumping his fist into the air before he pulled you back on top of him, his hands tangling in your hair to pull you down for a kiss.

You pulled away after a minute to ask, “Can we cancel the party? Just do this instead?”

“And miss a chance to see you prancing around in a swimsuit for hours, knowing I get to tear it off of you at the end of the night?”

Your body flushed with a familiar warmth as you grinned. “Guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“I can’t wait to show you off,” Josh whispered against your lips, both of you smiling as you exchanged sweet kisses.      

[escapewriter]

part 36 - the festival

REDAMANCY

pairing : dancer!??? x art student!reader

word count : 1.2k

a/n : my wifi got cut out so i had to type this in my notes so i apologize if there are any typos

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You and Jeonghan sat by a bench at the festival. It seemed like more of a carnival than a fundraiser festival thing due to all the game booths and rides. You leaned on Jeonghan's shoulder, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do later.

“I know you don’t want me to ask about it, but can you tell me how you’re going to do it?” You felt him tense up a bit before relaxing as he saw you nod your head.

“It’s nothing special in my opinion. After the performance I'm just gonna talk to the both of them.” You heard Jeonghan hum, listening to what you were saying as he watched people pass by or win stuffed animals from some games.

“Piece of advice, YN. don’t do what Nari did.”

“No shit, I'm not using them.”

“No no, I meant like don't confess to one and let the other walk away sad, because this time around, no one is gonna be there to say ‘if it makes you feel better’ ya know?”

“Well Wonwoo could.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

~

You and Jeonghan sat at the top of the bleachers in hopes of getting away from the growing crowd.

“Han, we won't be able to see them.”

“No we won’t but they will, I told them where we’re sitting.”

You opened your mouth in a silent ‘ah’ before scanning the people around. Your nerves began to build up a bit as you hate being in a crowded area.

Jeonghan saw you begin to panic, so he rested his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it to calm you down. It helped a bit, but not enough so you tried to start a conversation, “Where are your friends?”

“What do you mean my friends? You and the gang is what I got.”

You laughed softly, but heart feeling warm hearing him say that, “No I meant the other two. Joshua and Seungcheol.”

“Ohh, uhh, you sure you wanna know where they are?”

“Honestly, I don't really care because I’m just trying to calm myself down.” He giggled a bit and intertwined your hands together, knowing well you hated this stuff but only let him do it.

“Okay well, Joshua is mentally preparing Minghao and Seungcheol is mentally preparing Jun. BUT IT'S OKAY, because they will be okay with any decision you make.” Jeonghan forced a smile to make you feel reassured to which you smiled back softly for his efforts.

“Okay enough about that, let's just wait until the show starts.”

~

“How many god damn people are performing?”

You laughed at Jeonghan’s impatience, “Relax, there’s only been 3 performances. One being a little skit from the theater club.”

“Yeah but I didn't need to see them reenact something that I've seen on Victorious. The abc play is so rehearsed, yall aren’t special.”

Rolling your eyes, you watched the stage crew remove the decorations and add in new props. The sun was setting by now so when the lights dimmed for the next performance, you could see the stage much better. Except you didn’t want to see the stage better the second you heard the booming voice of your best friend and the words ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, they call us Boo-Seok-Soon!’

You heard Jeonghan gasp and laugh when you saw their faces on the screen, your hand immediately coming up to cover your mouth in shock.

~

“Did you know Seungkwan could perform like that, YN?”

You scoffed, “I barely pay attention to his art skills, let alone to how he performs, but this was technically his first time performing, so I’d give him a solid 10 out of 10.”

“It was the voice crack wasn’t it?”

“He would’ve gotten an 8 if it wasn’t for that one thing.”

It was dark out by now, the sun was gone and the air was colder than before. You shivered, scooting closer towards Jeonghan to try and gain some of his body heat. “When do you think they’re gonna perform?”

“Probably right now,” on cue, the lights dimmed. Patiently waiting, yet having that tense feeling in your muscles, a soft beat began to play as you watched the performance of the dance team, your eyes watching every move of all the dancers.

“Damn, Chan and Vernon are really good.” You smiled and nodded your head in agreement, “I could never do that- holy shit did Minghao just- what the fuck was that?”

“He’s good at martial arts, same with Jun so I’m not surprised that at least one of them did something.” You saw Nari at the back, her eyes looking uninterested but still putting effort into it. “I have to admit, Nari is good.”

“A squirrel could dance better than that bitch YN, don’t give her any credit.”

“I don’t understand how you’re more salty than I am.”

~

“Seungkwan! That was a good performance!”

You and Jeonghan approached the said man backstage, handing him a bottle of water and giving him a side hug. “Thank’s Jeonghan. I’m really happy you both are here and so is Chan and Vernon.”

“Yeah, you guys are ridiculously good.” You saw Chan and Vernon appear from the corner of your eye and gave them a hug, handing them water bottles as well.

“So that means, you and Jeonghan regret not coming to our past shows?”

“No, I liked hanging out with YN more.” You laughed softly, but got distracted after making eye contact with the two men that you were planning to talk to.

Thinking that now was the best time, you excused yourself and followed the two into a room. You knocked softly, the door opening quickly and seeing Minghao there. He gave you a smile and stepped to the side so you have space to walk in. You saw Jun sitting on the couch as Minghao took his place next to him.

You sat in a chair across from them and took a deep breath.

“Hi.” They smiled, not responding and gave you time to gather your thoughts. You were so thankful towards both of them, you don’t know how you could do this.

“I’m sorry I took, uh, so long. I just needed time to think and to make sure that I was making the right choice.” You looked up and saw the two of them staring at you, both silently encouraging you to continue, “Thank you for being patient with me. I know I haven’t been fair when I just disappeared like that. But, just- thank you both.”

Your eyes didn’t know where to look. You didn’t want one of them to feel left out so you kept switching, and you also didn’t want to be the only one talking. “One of you, please. Please just say something.”

They took a look at each other before Jun sat up straight, inhaling, “YN, all we both want is for you to make a choice that will make you happy. Minghao and I, we learned that it’s not about competition and that we have to go through a heartbreak in order to move on or find the person that we’re meant to be with.” He looked at Minghao, signaling for him to continue.

“Yeah, all we want is for you to be happy. And with any decision you make here, we will be supportive of you or the other person.” They gave you a reassuring smile in which you returned.

“Okay. Well then, here goes nothing.”

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[thecurlsofgod]

Friendship Test || Tom Holland

Fandom: Tom Holland (feat. other ones, partially)

Pairing: Tom Holland x actor!reader (PLATONIC)

Word Count: 1112

Warnings: Swearing; Tiny sexual innuendos; Mentions of other celebrities (Ashton Irwin, Joshua Bassett, Will Smith); Mostly dialogue (I’m not kidding, this is literally almost all talking. To keep you guessing ;); MORE VERY VERY BAD WRITING (read at your own risk)

Okay! Two fics in two days, go me! 

I was thinking I could make a spin-off of blurbs/one-shots with the celebrities mentioned in this (not so much Will). I don’t know, it’s still in the thought process. 

Also, sorry the reader and Tom aren’t together in this. If I do make spin-offs (which I probably will), you’ll have, like pre-made relationships, so you can request your own situations with them. 

I took most of this from the friendship test Glamour did with Niall Horan and Lewis Capaldi.

Hehe another thing, I don’t usually blur out cursing, but since it’s an interview, I did. !!! More Author’s note at the end !!!

____

BOLD = Interview

Italics = Tom

Normal = Reader/Y/N

"Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"And I'm Tom Holland."

"And we're taking the Glamour friendship test." You both say at the same time, causing you both to laugh.

"In case you don't know, I play Marcy in Spies In Disguise-" You start, only to be interrupted by Tom.

"And I play Walter. Our characters have no relationship between each other whatsoever, but Y/N and I have been friends for years, so when Glamour asked us if we wanted to do a friendship test we were like, 'Hell yeah!'"

"So now here we are... taking a friendship test. This test right here determines whether we are true friends or not. It's kinda scary if you think about it."

"My palms are sweaty." Tom wipes his hands on his pants.

***

Y/N [FRIENDS WITH TOM]

TOM [FRIENDS WITH Y/N]

"I'm going to ask you a bit about your friendship with Tom."

"Mmmkay. We met when I was living in London. I had to play his love interest in a film. It was honestly my least favorite film I've ever been in. The plot was great, the script was great, my character was great, but the fact that my love interest was being played by Tom... hated that. Absolutely hated that."

"Okay, wow. That was fucking rude."

"Oh my god, Tom. You can't just cuss on here."

*

"What's one of your fondest memories of each other?"

"Mine is a time we got drunk together. Now, I'm an emotional drunk. That's fine, you know? Everyone has their baggage, but Y/N here-"

"Tom noooooooo..."

"-but Y/N here is a very... crazy drunk?"

"I hate you so much. So, so, so, so much."

"It was honestly scary. Y/N's boyfriend was there. His name is Ashton. Ashton Irwin of 5 Seconds of Summer, their new album CALM is out, stream it, sorry I'm getting distracted, but anyways Ashton was there and... and, uh, If Walls Could Talk came on and Y/N here got a little too excited."

"Now, I know that this really shouldn't be said on the Internet, but Y/N doesn't care- Y/N, you don't care, right?'

"Yes, I care very m-"

"See, she doesn’t care. As I was saying, If Walls Could Talk came on, right? Y/N here decided to take her shirt off. Listen, I'm a man, I am a male, I enjoy a little strip show now and then, but to see it with your best friend who is in a committed relationship is kinda horrifying."

"Ashton had to drag her out of the house- and I swear that Y/N was, like, shitface drunk. It was like she didn't even realize she was in a room full of people when she did it. Great memory."

"Haha, super fucking funny."

"Who's cussing now?"

"Shut up. Anyways, my favorite memory would have to be when we did this homemade music video thing? My other friend, Joshua- Joshua Bassett, did this with his cast on High School Musical: The Musical: The Series. They did, like a music video to Bang Bang by Jessie J and when I saw it I was like, 'Tom we should totally do this!'"

"So, we did. But instead of Bang Bang, it was... Telephone by Lady Gaga featuring Beyoncé. And it was honestly just a really fun thing to make, and... yeah."

"That is a nice memory."

"Yeah. Notice how I didn't pick one just to embarrass you?"

"Hey, I can't choose what my favorite memory is."

"Fuck you. I should have done this with Will instead."

"Oh, like Will would ever take a friendship test with you!"

"You'd be surprised."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

***

EXERCISE ONE | GIVE EACH OTHER COMPLIMENTS

"This is gonna be hard."

"I hate you so much, you don't even understand."

"Trust me, I know."

*

"Ummm... You have a great style. Like, your style is way better than mine-"

"Everybody's style is better than yours."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Go on."

"That's actually all I have for you."

"Oh really?" "Yeah."

"Okay, Tom.. you have a nice accent. It's really, you know, British?"

"You got a thing for guys with accents then?"

"Don't fucking talk to me after this ever again."

"Gladly."

"That compliment was a lie by the way. I just wanted you to know."

***

EXERCISE TWO | HUG FOR ONE MINUTE

"You guys are trying to kill me aren't you?"

"Did you guys talk to Ashton about this? Did my boyfriend agree to this?"

"You act like we haven't hugged for longer than a minute."

Tom steps closer to you and wraps his arms around your somehow smaller frame.

"The worst part is that he gives good hugs."

"You know how many people would kill to be in your position?"

"None"

***

EXERCISE THREE | MIRROR EACH OTHER'S DANCE MOVES

"Nah. Fuck this."

"This is gonna be good."

You watch Tom do a backflip. In return, you get on your knees (luckily you were wearing pants for this promo day) and do a summersault.

"That's the best you're gonna get."

***

EXERCISE FOUR (THE FINAL EXERCISE) | TRUST FALLS

"I don't like this." You say as Tom steps behind you.

"Just do it. Just close your eyes... and fall."

"I don't what the fuck you just said to me, but never say it to me again."

"Can't you tell that we're best friends?" Tom says to the camera.

"I hope they can't. I hope they can see how much I hate you."

"Oh my god, just fall already."

You close your eyes and cross your hands over your chest for dramatics.

"Catch me or die."

"R.I.P to me then."

You're hoping that he's joking because as soon as you say that you're falling, and then you're caught. You get up with Tom's help and fix your shirt.

"Good move. Your turn."

Tom watches as you move behind him. 

"Same goes for you. If you drop me, I'll hurt you."

"Good thing I like pain."

And then Tom is falling. You're standing at the perfect angle behind him to catch him, but you don't feel anything. You're confused for a nanosecond until you hear a heavy thump.

"What the fuck, Y/N?"

"Why would you fall forwards? Who the fuck falls forwards?"

"I fucking do! Where the hell were you?"

"Well, I was standing behind you. Ready to catch you, and then you fell forwards like a fucking idiot on America's Funniest Home Videos."

***

"Thank you guys for watching."

"Yes, thank you! Although it looks like we hate each other, we promise you we are best friends."

"Please watch Spies In Disguise, in theaters now and subscribe to Glamour's youtube channel."

***

Anyways, as I was saying before... you can send me situations with the characters in this (Tom, Joshua, and Ashton) or even throw in some new celebrities and I can make spin-off oneshots from this universe. I hope that makes sense because it didn’t to me.

[noladyme]

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 8

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom​

8

My heart felt like it literally broke in my chest. I fell onto the couch, and heaved for breath. Was this even my home anymore? Was Jax mine? What am I doing here? My car was parked outside. I could just get in; drive far away from here. But I had nowhere to go anymore. All my things where at the clubhouse. All I had was one suitcase with a few clothes. My job, my belongings, dancing – all that had made me, me… none of it was in my hands anymore.

Joshua had done his best to rip away from me all that was mine; and now that I was supposed to be free of him – free to build the life I wanted – it seemed like there was nothing to build on.

Jax texted me around noon.

- Held up. Back tomorrow morning. - Ok. Breakfast then? - No thanks. See you. - When can we talk? - We talked. Get some rest.

I sat and looked at the tv for a while before I realized I hadn’t turned it on. I laughed quietly to myself. You’re going stir crazy, Cat. I decided to ignore what Jax had said about not driving; and left the house. I just needed to get out.

I made my way to the diner, and ordered waffles; but changed my mind last minute. “Mac’n’cheese”, I smiled at the waitress. That always made me feel better. I was enjoying my meal, when Chibs and Tig came in, ordering lunch for an army. Tig noticed me in my booth. “Hey, pumpkin. I thought you were on lockdown at home”, he said. “No lockdown”, I smiled. “At least I haven’t seen any prospects around”. He smiled back at me. “I’m sorry about what happened to you”, he muttered. “Thanks. I’m ok. I got my faithful crutches with me”, I said. “And the chevy is purring like a cat. Thanks for fixing her up”. He grinned. “No problem. But you’re driving?”. Chibs came over. “You should be resting that knee, luv’”. “It’s fine, Chibs”, I said. “If you say so”, he muttered.

I shrugged of their worried expressions. “Lunch for church?”. “No church today”, Tig said. “Just business later on. Gotta fuel up”, he grinned, and patted his belly. “Remember extra chocolate syrup for Jax”, I said, trying to smile. “Will do”, Chibs said. Their order came out; and Tig went over to get it. “Go home, Cat”, Chibs said meaningfully. “I will. Just gotta hit the library first. Return a book I don’t need”. He nodded, and smiled.

They left soon after.

I drove myself to the library, and returned my book. When I came outside again, Jax was leaning against my car. I sighed; and hobbled over to him on my crutches. “Hi”, I muttered. His face was cold. “Get in the car”, he muttered. I rolled my eyes; and went for the driver’s seat. “No. Other side. I’m driving”. “Jackson…”. He walk up close to me; suddenly towering over me much further than his height should make possible. Ha grabbed my arm; and held me still in front of him. “Get in the goddamn car, Cat”, he snarled.

I hobbled over to the other side; and he took my crutches from me; throwing them into the back seat. I opened the door, and got in the car; and Jax closed the door after me with a bang. He drove me home; not speaking a word the whole way there.

Once inside the house; he slammed the door shut behind us – making me jump from the sound.

“I thought I told you to stay here”, he yelled. “When are you going to learn to do as you’re told?” I was flabbergasted. “What the hell, Jax?”, I said. “You were just beat to shit – and now you’re running around town like nothing happened”. “I needed some air. I can’t stay cooped up in here”, I tried.

He stepped towards me with a menacing look on his face – pointing a finger at me. “You need to learn…”. “What?”, I snarled. “To be a good old lady? To do as you say; clean your house; wash your clothes and spread my legs whenever you want?”. He huffed; and shook his head. “Right… we don’t do that these days”, I hissed.

He spread out his arms with a resigned expression. “What do you want from me, Cat?”, he said. “Your ex is dead. You have a nice house to live in; food on your plate; and I’m paying for a lawyer to keep you out of jail”. I threw one of my crutches at him. “I want you, you asshole!”, I yelled. He shook his head. “I can’t do this right now…”, he said; and began to move for the door. “Don’t walk away from me. Talk to me!”. “Not now. I have shit to take care of”, he sneered. “I’m your shit, Jackson!”, I said. “Take care of me!”. “I am”, he snarled. “I’m making sure you’re staying here, and healing up. Now, go sit down”. I shook my head. “I won’t”, I croaked.

He walked up to me, picked me up; and carried me to the couch – planting me there. “You keep your ass on this couch!”, he roared. “You can’t control me like this, Jax!”, I yelled. “Watch me”, he said.

He took my crutches, and left the house, with a slam of the door. I heard him start up my car and drive away.

I screamed out in rage; before calling him up on the phone

“What?”, he answered. “Bring back my car”, I said. “No”. “Bring back my car, Jackson. I swear to God…”. I was grinding my teeth in rage. “You’ll get the car, when you start behaving like you’re supposed to”, he said. “I’m not a child!”, I yelled. “Then stop behaving like one. Stop running away; and stop getting hurt, and putting yourself in danger”. “Jax…”. “I have business at Cara Cara. I’ll see you tomorrow. Either you’re on that couch or in bed when I get there; or I’m crashing this piece of shit chevy into a tree; and making sure you never drive it again”. “Jackson…!”. He’d hung up.

He didn’t call or text the rest of the day. I tried reaching out. - Please come home. Talk to me. No answer. An hour later I tried again. - I’m sorry I pissed you off. I just needed air. Nothing.

At 10 pm; I tried one last time. - I’m naked in bed. I miss you, and I want you here. Either come yourself, or send Juice. Someone should be getting some action. I thought the joke would lighten the mood. A message popped up. - Go to sleep. Will come by tomorrow. I smiled. ­- Should I be naked then? The answer came quickly. ­- Don’t have time for this. Go to sleep. It was like a slap to the face.

I went to bed; quietly sobbing.

---

After a night of restless sleeping; I woke to my phone ringing. “Jax?”, I said. “Nah, it’s Opie”. I sighed. “Hey… what’s up?”. “Jax wanted me to check in on you”, he muttered. “I’m… fine. Why isn’t he calling me himself”, I asked. “He had to take care of something”. “You at the clubhouse?”. “No… We’re still at Cara Cara”, he said. They’d spent the whole night there. “Opie?”, I croaked. “Yeah?”. “Is he… ok?”, I asked. “He’s better”, Opie said. “I’m sorry; I gotta run. We’re going back to the clubhouse now. Do you want Lyla to come by?”. “She’s… No. It’s ok. Tell her I said hi”. “I will”, he muttered. “Bye”. “Bye”. I hung up.

Jax had spent the whole night at Cara Cara. I felt sick. I had to see him. Now.

I threw on a button up dress; and called a cab. The driver smelled like old sweat, and I rushed out of the car as fast as my knee would allow – paying him while holding my breath.

The TM lot was almost empty. It was only 10; so I figured the rush hadn’t started yet. There was only one bike parked – not Jax’s. I’d made it to the lot before he had. Limping towards Gemma’s office; she met me in the door; holding Abel on her arm. His little face made me smile. “Hey, sweetheart”, Gemma grinned. “Jax said you were on bedrest”. “Yeah, I wish”, I muttered. “That bad, huh?”, Gemma said. I shook my head. “It’s nothing”.

Abel grabbed for me; and I sat down in Gemma’s chair; putting my foot up on the couch. She handed me the baby; and I held him to my chest; kissing the top of his head. “I missed you, baby boy”, I whispered. “He missed you too”, Gemma said. “Coffee?”. “No thanks”, I said. “I’m too amped already”. She nodded.

There was a roar of engines on the lot; and I got to my feet gingerly – Abel still in my arms. I limped towards the door; and saw Jax drive up with Opie, Chibs, Juice and Tig. Lyla was riding with Opie; leaning against her old man with pure love in her eyes.

I noticed a set of arms around Jax’s torso as well. It was Ima. I limped out the door; and towards the group. Jackson gestured for Ima to get off; and parked his bike – getting off it himself. She stepped over to him again; and kissed his cheek. He seemed indifferent; but smiled at her. Ima got back on his bike; putting her hands on the gas tank; as if she was straddling his own body; and smirked at him. She said something I couldn’t hear. “Not today, Ima”, he smiled back at her.

Juice patted Jax’s shoulder, and gestured towards me. When he saw me; Jackson’s face dropped. I turned to Gemma. “Can you take the baby? I don’t want him to see this”. She nodded; and brought Abel into the office; putting him in his car seat.

I limped closer to Jax. “I was just giving her a ride”, he muttered. “Yeah, I can see that. Seems like she enjoyed it”, I said. “Cat…”, he tried. “Not now”.

I stepped up in front of Jax’s bike; and looked Ima square in her smirking face. “Get your rancid pussy off my old man’s bike”, I said calmly. She looked at me in mock surprise. “Excuse me?”, she said.

Opie stepped towards us; but Lyla held him back. “Don’t, Ope”, she muttered. He stood down.

“I said; get of the bike, before I drag you off it”, I snarled. Ima slowly slid of the bike; and stepped towards me. “Jax, you better tell your babysitter to back off. I don’t want to break my nails on her face”. I smiled, and shook my head.

I could feel Jax’s eyes on my back. He didn’t come closer.

I didn’t move. Ima looked at me incredulously, before pouting. “What? Nothing to say?... Why don’t you run along, now, hmm?”.

Before she knew what had happened; I raised my fist; and punched her hard in the chest. She bent over; and held a hand to her left breast – screaming in pain. I looked at her calmly; as she heaved for breath “He is mine”, I said. “If you so much as look in his direction again; I’ll go Jack the Ripper on your diseased cunt”.

Jax came running over. “Cat!”, he yelled. “What the hell?”. I turned to face him. “You better wipe that seat with a gallon of disinfectant; before you so much as think I’ll ride with you again”.

I limped away from the crying porn-star. Passing Lyla; I looked at her, and mouthed an I’m sorry. She shrugged uncomfortably; and walked over to Ima; to help her upright.

Jax followed me in to the clubhouse. It was mostly empty; save for Rat – who’d been watching the exchange on the CCTV. “Get Ima to the hospital”, Jax muttered. The prospect nodded, and scurried of quickly.

I walked down the hall to the room with my boxes. Jax followed me. “Babe”, he tried. “Kiss my ass”, I snarled. His chin dropped. “Woah, what the hell, Cat?”. I looked at him; rage streaming through my body. “You haven’t touched me since they let me out of that police station”, I growled. “Now I see her grinding all over you?” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to give you space…”. “Bullshit, Jax. You’ve been avoiding me”. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I was grinding my teeth in anger. “You hardly look at me… It’s like the thought of being in a room with me makes you sick to your stomach”. He stepped towards me; reaching out for me. “I was gonna come home when I could…”, he said; and put a hand on my shoulder. I slapped it away. “You left me in that house; alone! I wanted you there; practically begged you to come home – and you ignored me. Why?”.

He sighed. “I didn’t know how to face you, after what happened – what I said…”. “So you just decided not to?”, I said. “You were safe. That was all I cared about”.

I nodded; and scoffed a laugh. “Yeah. Safe… that’s the key word; isn’t it?”, I said. “You got rid of the competition; and realized you were bored with me”. “Cat…”, he said warningly. “I’m a necessary evil at this point”, I chuckled. “You need me in that house, to keep up the façade of the strong guy who has his shit together, and his family in order”. “That’s not what you are to me; you know that Cat!”, he yelled. “Why do you treat me like that, then?” “I don’t!”. “Yes you do. It’s like I somehow became less to you the second I took that gun from your hand!”.

He shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to take that fall. That was on me”. “Why?”. “Because you’re my responsibility!”. I nodded. “Right. The toxic masculine bro code. Touch my girl; and I kill you”, I smirked. “Did it make you feel like less of a man, to have your old lady go down for something you did?”.

Jax clenched his jaw. “You’re stepping on thin ice, darlin’”, he growled. I spread my arms; inviting him in. “Why don’t you smack me around a little. Might make you feel better”. His lips furled back in a snarl. “Like he did? Look where that got you!”. He gestured to my knee. “I’m trying to protect you”. “From what? The amount of porn-stars on your dick?”

He stepped towards me slowly; his body tense. “Now you’re just spewing venom”. “Yeah? Why don’t you put my mouth to better use, then?”. I pushed him towards the wall; and slammed the door closed. It took him by surprise; and for a second, he didn’t seem to know what to do. I took advantage of it; and dropped down on my good knee; letting my other knee touch the floor more gingerly.

I pulled his belt open; and pulled down his pants a little – giving me access to his dick. “Cat…”, he hissed. “Shut up”, snarled; and grabbed his member; sliding it into my mouth. I sucked at it; feeling it harden in my mouth. With one hand, I stroked the inches I couldn’t take – and with the other; I cradled his balls – massaging them. I heard Jax groan above me; and his hands went to my head. I released his testicles; and slapped his hands away. This was my project.

I massaged the underside of his penis with my tongue – sucking him to a full erection. I pulled back. “You like this?”, I purred. “Yeah…”, he breathed. I returned my lips to his cock.

I licked over the tip; tasting the precum coming from it. I slid my tongue down the side of his hardness – and then put him back in my mouth; bobbing my head up and down; drawing him closer to his end. Jax’s breath became erratic; and I could feel him tensing up. “Baby, I’m…”, he panted.

I released him from my mouth and grasp; and stood up – wiping my mouth. I stepped backwards. “What are you…?”, he croaked. I smiled. “Don’t like being left hanging?” He shook his head; and gestured towards his penis. “Could you maybe…”. “What? Finish the job?”. I narrowed my eyes. “Why don’t you make me?... Tell me you want me, Jax. Show me!”.

Jax growled; and grabbed my arm; pulling me towards him. Within a second; I was locked in his arms; and his mouth was on me – kissing me with a fervor.

I pulled down my panties; getting one foot out of them; but didn’t get any further, before Jackson lifted me up to straddle his waist. With a hand sliding under my bottom; he felt for my wetness; and held his member to my entrance – sliding me down over it. We moaned simultaneously. Jackson grabbed a firm hold of my left ass cheek; squeezing it hard, and making me yelp in pleasure. “I want you”, he growled into my ear; sending shivers down my back.

He pressed me against the wall and began thrusting into me hard; without mercy. Jax wasn’t making love to me; he was screwing me – letting out his frustration – and I was in that same boat with him.

I put my hand in his hair; pulling his head back hard; and attacked his lips and tongue with my own. He groaned almost angrily; and slammed into me harder – bottoming out. Jax put his hand around my throat; squeezing gently – but when he noticed the bruising from Josh’s attack to it – he frowned; and moved his hand back down under my bottom.

It wasn’t long before I began unfurling; clenching my muscles around him – and drawing him with me into extasy. My orgasm came like and explosion; and I screamed out – feeling Jax bottoming out in me one last time. With a raspy groan; he came inside me – and held me against the wall for a few seconds more, before pulling himself out of me; and lowering me to the floor.

I stumbled for a second; and Jackson held me upright. “Your knee…?”, he muttered. “It’s fine”, I breathed – still panting.

Jax adjusted himself; and put his pants back on properly – before leaving the room for a minute – coming back with a wet paper towel; for me to clean myself up. I was suddenly embarrassed, and couldn’t meet his eyes. I put my panties back on without a word.

“Cat…”, Jackson said quietly. “I’ll go home… let you finish up”, I whispered.

He walked over to me; and wrapped me in his arms – holding me impossibly close. “I love you”, he said into my hair; and kissed the top of my head. “When Bobby called and said you’d split… it was like you ripped my heart from my chest”. “I had to…”, I said quietly. “I had to protect you. I was afraid…”. He sighed. “I know, baby”, he breathed. “I know”.

I pulled back. His face was pained. “I can’t be a…”, I tried. “I have to be my own person. Make my own decisions”. He blinked and let out a short breath. “You want to leave…”, he whispered. I shook my head. “No! No, Jax… Never”. “Then what?”, he croaked. “I want us… But I’m not going to fit in to your idea of the perfect old lady”, I said. “I have to have a life that’s not just… this. But I want you in it”.

He sighed. “So what do we do?”, he said. I shrugged. “I think… we move on”, I said. “Together… without you controlling my every move”. He nodded. “I want that”, he said. “But… you asked me not to make decisions that involved you with out us discussing them first… You need to make me that promise as well. Leaving like that…”. I shook my head. “I made a call”, I said. “A shitty one”, he smiled softly. I stifled a smile. “I know you think that… but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see a way out that wouldn’t hurt you. Either prison or death”.

He sighed. “Leaving me hurt more than either of those…”, he breathed. I pulled him towards me again; putting my cheek to his. “I’m sorry…”, I croaked; beginning to weep silently. “Me too”, he said. I felt tears – his and mine – running down my cheek “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there”. “I didn’t tell you I was going…”, I tried. “No… after”, he said. “You needed me. You needed to heal more than just your body – and I just split… I should have been there for you”.

I began sobbing. “He hurt me… I thought it was over…”, I wept. “Everything I… we were; and had… gone”. Jackson was rubbing soothing circles on my back. “First; he ripped it away… then you…”. “I’m sorry”, he sniveled. “Now… I’m going to prison, Jax!... She’s sending me away… I can’t…”. I began heaving for breath.

Jax pulled my head back so he could look at me. “That’s not happening, Cat”, he said pointedly. “I’m not gonna let that happen!”. “But I don’t want you to go away!”, I heaved. He shook his head. “We will fix this. Together”, he said; and kissed my forehead. “Breathe, baby…”.

I tried to control myself. I took a deep breath. “Ok”, I said. He smiled softly at me; and wiped the tears away – first from my face; then his own. “This storage room smells like old socks. Can we get out of here?”, he said. I chuckled; and nodded.

Jax supported my weight; and we walked into the main area of the clubhouse. I winced from the pain in my knee and ribs. “You need to go to the hospital”, he muttered. “Nah, that’s not a good idea”, I said. “Putting me within reach of Ima; might end in another murder. Hers”, I snarled. He chuckled. “I was just giving her a ride”, he said. “She could have ridden with one of the others”, I grumbled. “Yeah…”, he muttered. “She just climbed on… I won’t let it happen again”. “Good”, I said.

We stepped outside. Chibs came over to us. “We all good here?”, he asked. “Yeah”, Jax said. “Good”, Chibs said. He looked at me. “You’ve got a fine lass here; Jackie. You mess this up; I’ll kick your ass myself”. I blushed.

Lyla and Ima were gone from the lot; along with the tow-truck. “They’re up at St. Thomas… Ima needed to get her tit checked out”, Juice said. Chibs chuckled. “That gash should be used to that by now…”, he snorted.

Jax transported me gently onto the picnic-table; and offered me a cigarette – which I gratefully accepted. He sat down next to me; and slipped his arm behind me – squeezing my hip for a second; and sending me his trademark Teller smirk.

Opie was on his phone; talking quietly into it. “… yeah, baby. I’ll call you back”. He hung up and came over to us. “Ima has a burst implant”, he muttered. Juice stifled a laugh. I shook my head. “Great…”, I said. “I’ve already got potential murder charges hanging over my head – and now I’ve committed assault”. Jax bit his lip. “Call Lyla”, he said to Opie. “Tell her, if Ima so much as thinks about pressing charges; I’ll come over there and burst the other one myself”. Opie sighed. “Yeah… I’m not doing that”, he chuckled. “Not exactly the conversation I want to have with my fiancée, the day after I just proposed…”.

All of our faces dropped. “What?”, Jax gasped. He sprang at his friend; and embraced him. “You son of a bitch! Congrats, man!”. All the guys embraced Opie; before I gave him a tight hug. “Congratulations, Opie. Lyla’s amazing”. “Yeah, I know”, he muttered. “Drinks!”, Chibs called out.

A roar of bikes entered the lot; and soon all of the members of Samcro where gathered around us. “What’s with the gang-hug?”, Tig said. We all looked at Opie. “I’m… getting married”, he muttered. A roar of congratulations began again.

Celebrations soon commenced; with all that involved. I found myself carried to one of the couches in the clubhouse; with my leg raised on the table; and an ice-pack on my knee. Jax was like glue to me; only getting up to get me fresh drinks; and helping me to the toilet – waiting outside the bathroom for me to finish. “I’m not running”, I smirked at him. “I know”, he smiled embarrassedly. “Just give me back my crutches”, I said. He looked down. “I, uhm… kind of threw them in to an incinerator with a dead Nord…”, he muttered. I gasped. “Jax!”, I breathed. “It wasn’t Ollie!”, he said. “We had a situation… it’s unrelated to you”. I nodded solemnly.

He stroked my cheek. “Do you want to know?”, he asked. “Later… let’s just go back out there and celebrate Opie”. He nodded; and turned around. “Come on, peg-leg. Piggy-back time”. I laughed; and climbed onto his back.

Juice passed us in the hallway; and looked at my dress - which was riding up. “I see London; I see France. I see Cat’s…”. “Finish that sentence; and I’ll kill you, brother”, Jax snarled. Juice chuckled; and went into the bathroom.

“Don’t ever joke about screwing Juice again…”, he said over his shoulder to me. I laughed. “Ok… can I screw Tig? I hear he’s hung”, I joked. “Careful, darlin’”, Jax chuckled.

He got me back on the couch; and took Abel from Gemma – handing the baby to me. We sat there together – like a little family. We were a family.

Lyla arrived with Rat about an hour later. The tiny woman was lifted into the air to a roar of applause. She looked flabbergasted; as she was carried over to Opie; who received her in his arms; and whispered something in her ear. Lyla instantly flushed red; and kissed him deeply. The pair were attacked with hugs and well wishes. I was grinning from ear to ear; and pulled Abel tighter to my chest. Jax stepped over to greet Lyla.

Bobbie came and sat by me. “You ran”, he said. “I had to”, I muttered. He sighed. “I know…”, he said; and smiled at me earnestly. “Thank you, sweetheart”. He kissed my cheek; and joined Tig and Piney at the bar.

Gemma and Clay sat down in the couch next to mine. Clay took my hand. “What you did for our son… our club”, he said. “We owe you. You were family before, but this… If you ever need anything, sweetheart…”. “Thanks”, I smiled. “For now, I just need to get over this… Kohn situation”. Clay nodded. “We’ll take care of Stahl”, he said.

Opie, Lyla and Jax came to join us. Jax took Abel from me; and put him to his chest. The baby was yawning. Gemma looked at me solemnly. “How’s the knee?”, she asked. “Numb”, I said; gesturing at the icepack. “My ribs are hurting though”. “And your hand?”, she said. I looked down at the bruising on my knuckles, from my incident with Ima. “I washed the silicone off”, I smirked; and looked towards Lyla. “Sorry…” “Ima’s a bitch”, she said. “I only eat her out; because it pays well”. Opie winced.

Jax chuckled. “All right. I don’t think this is baby-friendly talk”, he smiled. “I need to get my boy, and my girl home and into bed”. “No, Jax”, Lyla said. “Stay… celebrate with us”. Gemma smiled. “I said I’d take him for a few days. One more night won’t hurt”. “You sure, ma’?”, Jax said.

Gemma stepped over to him; and took Abel. “I got him, baby”, she smiled. Clay looked at her. “I’m gonna stick around for a while. Pour one out for Ope”, he said. Gemma smirked at him. “Don’t be to late. I’ve got something cooking…”, she said. Jax winced. “I didn’t need to hear that”, he muttered. I squeezed his hand.

Gemma left the clubhouse with Abel; and we spent the next few hours enjoying the perfect bliss on Lyla’s and Opie’s faces; as they cuddled up next to each other. Jax pulled me close. “I love you”, he breathed into my ear. “Yeah?”, I whispered. “Enough to get me a new air freshener for my car?”. He put his hand on my thigh; and stroked it gently with his fingertips. “I’ll get you two”, he smiled. I put my hand around his neck; and kissed him deeply. His hand travelled up my thigh; and under my dress.

“Do you wanna…?”, he breathed. “Yes, sir”, I smirked. He frowned slightly. “You don’t have to do that… I don’t want you to feel like I’m controlling you”, he said softly. “I don’t mind it if you’re a bit bossy”, I smirked. “It’s kind of hot…”. Jax raised a brow at me; and grinned. “Then get your ass into that dorm”, he snarled in mock menace. I pouted. “I’m hurt… I can’t walk; and a very mean man burnt my crutches”. He chuckled; and stood up. “Come on, doll-face”, he said; and pulled me up – letting me climb onto his back again.

He carried me down the hall; leaving behind the partying crowd. I had him back.

[purpleyellow]

Bruce Wayne

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“The boys try to prank Hayun but end up finding out something new about her”

Trigger Warning: mentions of dead relatives (i’ll move on from this topic I promise) and description of a fake threat/robery/idk

a/n: Once again, thank you for requesting this and I’m sorry it took me so long. Feel free to let me know your thoughts as well as send me some requests💙. Ask box is also open to random chats.

“They were nice for letting us walk around” Hayun sighed happily as she walked along the commercial street with the rest of the 96 liners. 

The group was recording small takes for an upcoming tv appearance and since they were the first to get done some of the managers allowed them to wander around the block. What the girl didn’t know is that they were just setting her up for a hidden camera.

She was walking quite fast, which came in handy for Woozi, who stopped and pretended to read the menu of a random restaurant, quickly turning around and going back to the building when he realized she wouldn’t look back.

Wonwoo and Hoshi were actually quick to think about an escape when Hayun stopped to check out the showcase of a store. Jun, also really curious by the cheap magic tricks on display, didn’t notice the two boys increasing their pace enough so they could make a turn before she noticed, quickly running around the block to the place they left off.     

The Chinese boy was a little relieved she hadn’t noticed the others being gone, and sneakily escaped her eyesight as Hayun moved to another store after telling him to wait for her. Too bad he didn’t.

Smiling excitedly, Jun sat next to the boys right as Hayun walked out onto the street, looking around and searching for the boys who had joined the rest of Seventeen and sat in front of monitors to watch her get pranked.

Stepping out along the sidewalk, she noticed a barricade had been put down just at the end of the street, making it impossible for her to return to the build from that way. So, going down the street, she patted her pockets in a failed attempt to get her phone.

Laughing alone, Wonwoo took out the device from his pocket and showed it to the rest of the boys with an amused smile “She left it with me”

“I told her to stop leaving her stuff around. She won’t forget it after this” Jaeonghan smirked as the girl walked further, only to find another barricade that left her confused.

“She’s going to ask someone what’s going on, isn’t she?” Mingyu said right before laughing when Hayun stopped an old lady who had just crossed paths with her. The paid actress just dismissed her saying she had no idea and kept walking.

“I think she’s going to catch on at some point” Woozi pointed out, but before the others could agree, a motorcycle came through the barricade very dramatically, sending the boys laughing as they watched Hayun frown and follow the cyclist with her head.

When the bike had made halfway into the street, the man screamed with a demanding voice telling everyone around to get down, to which the actors around followed, letting out a few screams. Hayun, who had enough space between her and the commotion, quickly hid behind a trash can, occasionally peeking out to see what was going on. 

“I don’t know if it’s because we’re outside of the situation, but this looks quite suspicious” Scoups laughed as she looked around, but his comment was cut short when she leaned her back on the trash can and took three deep breaths.

“So she would freak out in a situation like this” Vernon’s tone gave away his pondering and Seungkwan hissed “Aish, I thought she would be more level headed” 

“I don’t know, she seems like she’s handling it fine,” Hoshi commented as they watched the monitors, the one that displayed Hayun looking more like a stilled frame than a live recording.

“Do you think she’s going to make a run for it?” Seungkwan asked after thirty seconds of nothing “Like, is she gathering the courage or something?”

“She would have done that already. Noona doesn’t really think twice before acting” Dino pouted at the scene unraveling  “Maybe she is doing the reasonable thing after all”

Looking at the monitors, some of the members didn’t fail to notice the girl occasionally stealing glances at something on her left, and while most of them brushed it off, Seungcheol frowned turning to one of the staff “Can we have a wider angle to see what she’s staring at?”

Changing up the monitor to show her from another angle, the leader noticed she was looking towards a couple straight across from her, both of them kneeling on the ground as they attentively watched the cyclist giving away threats and orders.

“Oh crap” Wonwoo muttered, also realizing the situation, and Scoups got up to speak to the producers, some of the camera directors, and even members asking him where he was going.

“Is she crying?” Minghao asked shocked, turning everyone’s attention back to the screen where Hayun had buried her face on her knees.

“Maybe she’s just resting,” Dokyeom said light-heartedly, making a few of them chuckle despite being a little concerned.

“We already got enough material, just end the prank” Seungcheol tried to reason with the producers and managers as they tried to have him back on his seat.

“Why are you going back now?” The woman frowned looking from him to her equipment.

“You didn’t give us enough details, and this might have gone too far” The boy sighed making her roll her eyes.

“What are you talking about? This is some third-class acting and she has barely reacted at all, let’s just push it a little more to get some content”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get entertained by us, but please end the prank” Scoups added a more demanding tone making the manager step in their conversation “What even is this about?”

“Hayun never told us how her parents passed away. And judging of how she’s reacting, I think this situation might have something to do with it” 

“How can you know? I mean, she’s barely shown any emotions”

“Okay, she’s definitely crying. Scoups? Wait, where is he?” Hoshi’s voice broke through their conversation making the leader gaze at the others with a raised eyebrow “Good enough for you?”

“Let’s end this now” The producer turned around, indicating the staff what to do. Quickly turning back to them, she added “I don’t think we have enough material to air this at all”

“Sorry again, but we’ll figure it out after” Seungchol bowed before running out of the building and down the street.

Pinpointing the trashcan she was hidden behind, Scoups and the rest of the members - some still clueless about what was going on- ran towards it and past the actors going back to the building. Circling it, Scoups crouched down beside the curled up girl and gave her a hug while muttering an apology.

“I’m really sorry, I should have gotten more details before making you do this”

“Don’t.. just, never let me near a situation like this again” She sniffled and landed a slap on his arm.

“You should have told us” Joshua mumbled sadly and she gave him a tight-lipped smile, breaking the hug with the older to dry her tears.

“That’s not something you just bring it up” Sighing she rested her back on the can and shrugged “At least now you know why I never watch Batman”

“What?” Vernon asked a little too loud making Dino elbow his sides. 

“I’m Bruce Wayne” Hayun chuckled at his confused face that turned into one of realization in a few seconds.

“Marvel is better anyway, you’re not missing anything” Woozi joked along and she sent him a wink.

“I’ve asked this before but I’ll ask again. How does your mood change so quickly?” Minghao frowned, entertained by her going from traumatized crying to joking around in a split second.

“I remembered that I’m not alone. You guys are my happy place.”

“Oh my-” “Ew” “Ugh” “Disgusting”

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot

Hi to anyone reading,

Where TF has the time gone!?

After experiencing the longest January of all time (when your birthday is right after New Year, you get that between Boxing Day before NYE slump like a couple of weeks after everyone else), February has gone by in, like, 5 minutes and already we’re well into the throes of the F/W 2021 collection presentations. Meanwhile, I’m here like! Surprise! Here are my reviews of the S/S 2021 collections if anybody still cares! I mean I’m mashing it up with corresponding haute couture week reviews to fool everyone into thinking that doing it so many months later was intentional and it was totally working right up until this sentence, right?

In all fairness, I originally thought that I wasn’t going to bother reviewing S/S21 because it seemed kinda redundant given the circumstances and I wasn’t keen on the idea of collections being showcased via photo sets which is the route so many brands chose to (understandably) go down. Buuuut, the more I saw of what designers had put out there, the more I was tempted to put this post together and now here I am. The fact that designers are even able to churn pieces out during a pandemic when I’m out here like 0__0 no thoughts, head empty...it’s impressive to say the least, especially the way so many used the circumstances to inform their designs. In a way, it would be a disservice not to do a post on the season, and yeah it’s late, but given that it we are actually about to enter spring and the shows are kind of the deciders of what’s going to be “in” and “out”, they’re more relevant than ever. With plans for our way out of lockdown materialising-now is the perfect time to add that I don’t want ANYONE suddenly developing selective amnesia over how our government has failed us now that Boris has announced when the clubs COULD reopen-let this post serve as a roundup of every bit of inspiration available for our spring fits. I also want to use this opportunity to disclose how irritated I am at myself for starting the previous fashion week reviews post by declaring I was going to work through the designers in chronological order when I meant fucking alphabetical because I now can’t go back and change that. So this time, let me start properly. I’m going to be reviewing the collections in ALPHABETICAL order. Now that’s out the way, let’s do it. First, Acne:

It’s so great to start on a high, it really is, and fortunately Acne is reliably good. It’s still got that deconstructed, minimalist feel that the brand is known for but for the summer season; we can see creative director Jonny Johansson and his team moving away from the heavier pieces we saw last time round, away from upcycled bohemian curtains and towards a breezier, more season appropriate aesthetic, boujee kaftans and swimwear rebelliously hacked up and artfully rearranged, and it feels correct. The net pieces, the beachy colour palette, the oil spill-esque print (though this represents an intruder of the marine ecosystem, as a print I loveee it and 100% want more!) and the accessories, reminiscent of shells, coral and anything else you might find on the seabed, give me a hipster mermaid washed ashore vibe which completely fits with that rugged, mysterious sense of Nordic folklore references and adventure the brand has established as its foundation. If it’s a nod to some kind of new age cult that Johansson was going for, which apparently is the case, I’m guessing said cult worship sea goddesses and perform pagan rituals on the beach by moonlight, and though indoctrination doesn’t sound at all inviting, it's a party compared to scientology.

The chiffon trousers here are actually chic and seeing them styled under a blazer makes me realise done right they CAN be more than just a PrettyLittleThing summer sale piece, so I’ll store that away for outfit inspo when the time to get rid of some layers comes around. The glasses, too, are very Gucci. Flip flops with socks I don’t think I can ever come round to but-

Whilst it was a favourite of mine last season and it sticks to that same bohemian vibe with a lot of the elements I love, Ferretti lacks a little oomph this time round; it’s more stripped back, neutral, easy-going, and it is lovely, but for those same reasons it doesn’t grab my attention as much as the past couple of collections have. If you’re an influencer wanting to shoot a Joshua Tree desert lookbook this is sublime, but compared to the flair I saw in their last winter show, for example, there’s something lacking.

I’m very glad to see neutral coloured boiler suits on the runway, however; I snagged myself one off Depop the other week so I might be unintentionally ahead of the curve for once! The crochet detail dresses are nice too but very much remind me of past Zimmerman collections, or an Ermanno Scervino grab for the most high street friendly parts of Erdem SS2020, something along those lines. What I’m trying to say is that it’s definitely been there done that, even by Ferretti themselves and not in a continuity kinda way, in a kinda…this is basic and pretty so we know it will sell kinda way.

Eurgh, I wanna be one of these Alessandra Rich girls so bad.

I end up repeating myself every single time because I always love her collections but really, this is what a high fashion novice thinks Chanel is. Alessandra Rich outsold. As much as her dresses have looked amazing on people like Kate Middleton and January Jones, I’m just waiting for one of the modern it-girls to take the nostalgia-tinged femininity of her pieces and put some kind of daring, street-style twist on it; if that doesn’t happen I’ll gladly take 5 minutes of fame so I can do it before fading back into obscurity. Let me fulfil my modern first lady fantasy, reenact the croquet scene from Heathers, drape myself on a chaise lounge whilst smoking with a cigarette holder, and then throw me back into the trash where I belong. I can die happy. Also, can we once again appreciate how much more iconic the Alessandra Rich two piece made the already moment Dakota Johnson singlehandedly brought down the Ellen dynasty?

Dakota knew exactly what she was gonna do and the energy that she was gonna channel when she wore that piece and I admire it. Alessandra Rich, if nothing else, will go down as a key moment in pop culture history, and you know what? It’s what she deserves.

Whilst I do wish she’d branch out a little and try and get back in touch with the dark drama of old McQueen collections now and again, Sarah Burton has made a very recognisable Alexander McQueen silhouette and it’s beautiful; this season is gorgeous as always. A leather biker and tulle affair that’s perfect for a grunge ballet, it’s easy to avoid lamenting the excitement and theatrics of old collections when Sarah creates such consistently sophisticated pieces. Stunning.

Now, a quick haute couture detour with Alexandre Vauthier:

Compared to other haute couture collections, this is pretty toned down and by appearances alone (I know haute couture is more about meeting technical requirements more than anything else but there is a level of grandiose you expect to see) is more like a RTW collection than its counterparts. That being the case, I don’t have a huge amount to say about this one, though I do really like it-the ruched metallic boots especially. The Studio 54 vibes and the glam rock influences are clear and a lot of these pieces could definitely make it into Lady Gaga’s AHS Hotel wardrobe which is a compliment of the highest order, so there ya go. Plus, if a collection IS gonna be presented through stills, a format like this is preferable to some of the others I’m gonna talk about. There may be more exciting ways of doing it but simple allows us to see the clothes properly and at the end of the day, that’s what I care about the most!

Heading back to good ole’ RTW, we have Altuzarra; I wasn’t hugely keen on their last collection but this is definitely a step up for me and justifies keeping them on my radar. Though in some ways this seems like less of a summer collection and more of a late winter/early spring transitional one on the basis it can’t seem to decide which temperature its catering to, there’s a lot to like: a colour palette that reminds me of a Dion Lee collection, harnesses evocative of those sprinkled throughout the last few Alexander McQueen shows, and more of the utility wear trend that I’m still very much into nicely contrasted against lighter, airier pieces for an overall fresh, modern vibe. The interpretive dancewear style pieces are interesting and the woven platform sandals are the shoe of the summer but the white shirt with the cape incorporated is definitely the high point of this show and I absolutely adore it.

Anna Sui was actually pretty cute this time round. Her pieces have always been kooky, but in the past a little too lairy and occasionally cheap-looking for me. This collection, however, is kooky in more of a Melanie Martinez styled baby doll kinda way, as opposed to in an eccentric Bjork loving aunt whose idea of heaven is an all-must-go Primark sale kinda way (I know some people are going to vehemently disagree with my aesthetic preference there) and I love that. There seems to be a lot more creative direction going on, a much clearer vision of what Sui wanted to achieve, and yes a few of the looks went a bit too hard on the cookie cutter vibes but on the whole, they were more edited than usual; it seems Sui actually paid attention to the “take one thing off before you leave the house” rule this time. The staging is the perfect compliment to the doily style bucket hats and the sandals paired with frilly socks, and really adds to the whimsy of the collection, and as a whole, it really reminds me a lot of the way my mum would dress me as a toddler but styled up for a grown adult. Cute AF.

Armani RTW I was pleasantly surprised by, considering I don’t usually rate it. It’s a cool, androgynous take on retro shapes and styles that’s simultaneously fit for the hustle and bustle of the modern world. Strong 2021 Peggy Olsen vibes, and a bit muted Lacoste-I can 100% imagine Elisabeth Moss as Peggy swanning around in one of those huge minimalist houses with the floor to ceiling windows after a long day at work, though we’ll switch the cigarette for a vape because...you know...welcome to the future. And sure, maybe the vision is slightly influenced by THAT scene from Us, but whatever. As for the men’s wear, if I have to look through an endless gallery of straight white men in plain ass suits every time I do some kind of red carpet fashion review, I at least hope they’re wearing Armani. I need me some impeccable tailoring to soften the blow.

I do wonder, however, how the clothes would look on plus size models. I feel like it’s a collection that’s very catered to a person who is straight up and down, and it feels like a bit of an easy cop out not to have any kind of versatility. Say what you want about Christian Siriano but he caters to all body types very well.

I actually quite liked Armani’s haute couture collection too; the pops of colour and the intricate embroidery give me what I’ll later talk about missing from Valentino haute couture. There were still some of the frumpier pieces that I usually associate Armani with but also a lot of Great Gatsby-esque looks that I really enjoyed.

Returning to RTW, Ashish was amazing. I LOVE that there’s always some kind of unique print (this time round, kitschy illustrations) and whilst a whole maxi swan print dress may not be the most wearable for the majority of us, Ashish Gupta does bold and innovative really well. There were a few boring striped pieces in there but I adore the one shouldered butterfly print dress and I NEED that Hail Satan jumper; it reminds me a lot of something by sustainable fashion brand Minga, which is one of my absolute fave websites to buy from when I’m treating myself to some new clothes.

Azarro’s haute couture collection is full of supreme awards show afterparty fits, and I was shook to find out that Olivier Theyskens is the brand’s creative director! My newfound obsession with his pieces really had me like :O when I realised he was behind Azarro too. I loved their collection last time round, though this I’m finding a bit harder to give much analysis on because of the way it’s shot; whilst it could be a YSL perfume Vogue ad, which is obviously far from a bad thing, it comes at the cost of lacking visual clarity. That being said, from what I can see, Theyskens once again masterfully channels the wardrobe of the effortlessly cool, messy haired, smudged eye make up rock ‘n roll girl, and I think that’s someone we all want to be.

Balenciaga RTW was an interesting one for me-on first inspection, I was kinda disappointed. Without the usual drama of the bold, exaggerated silhouettes and the theatrical production of their shows, I felt it was missing a bit of the magic I’ve come to expect from them. The streetwear elements infused throughout, a departure from their typical pieces, was very hit and miss; the shearling slip-ons in particular were not my thing at all. I’d be admiring some beautiful gothic dress and then my eyes would slide down and see those monstrosities and it would bring the whole thing down a notch or two, despite bad shoes being something I can typically overlook if I otherwise enjoy the rest of the outfit. My initial conclusion: that the Balenciaga Myrtle Snow would choose as her last words this collection.

However, upon re-evaluation when typing this post up properly and knowing what to expect, I like the collection a lot. I’m getting a bit of a Seoul streetwear vibe from it, and I can appreciate that although it is a lot more trend focussed, it’s got an edgy, daring quality to it, with a lot of androgynous, utility wear elements on show. I loveee the Balenciaga chokers too and in my wildest dreams would get my hands on one before it goes the way of the Gucci belt and gets overdone and flaunted by social media influencers as a show of wealth to the point of tackiness.

At Balmain the sculpted body armour made a comeback but on this occasion, not in a way that I liked, and there war far too many neons for my taste too. No matter how many times it rears its ugly head, I find it hard to get on board because as a colour palette I can’t help but associate with Claire’s Accessories circa 2007-it has to be SO well done to avoid looking cheap, imo, and these Balmain pieces weren’t good enough for me to go against that gut aversion. A collection with 100+ looks isn’t usually a good sign and expecting Olivier Rousteing to achieve the impossible and manage to do both quality and quantity is a recipe for disaster; it’s a shame because his last collection was so original and yet this one feels like a cheaper looking rip off of other brands. It was just a bawdy display of 80s overkill IMO and if I can only find 8 outfits to include out of 100 that’s clearly not a good sign.

Bottega Veneta is a brand that the high fashion side of the internet loves that I can never 100% get on board with; I get it, they’re behind the gorgeous square toed heels, but other than that none of their collections have ever really wowed me. The chunky knitted pieces are very Miu Miu style futuristic grandma chic and as someone on the cusp of being either a millennial or gen Z (depending on which website you visit) it’s got me outfit planning for my retirement years. Utilising so much wool for a summer collection, however, seems like a choice because can you IMAGINE wearing a heavy knit in blazing sun; I almost didn’t include the collection to be honest but then every so often something really cute came long, and one of the signature crisp, classic BV pieces would be done well and so I felt I had to. Am I missing something given all the hype here? IDK tbh.

Burberry? Meh. You could also call this collection how many ways can I do a trench coat, with results of differing quality; occasionally the mix match of styles worked and I saw the deconstructed outerwear concept that Ricardo Tisci was presumably trying to go for, though it can’t come as much of a surprise that the combination of a trench, denim and leather jacket was mostly just messy and came off as a last ditch attempt to make the classic coat more interesting by just chucking other fabrics at it and seeing what stuck.

One thing I will say is that there were some really sick prints going on-the snakes in particular-and it was those prints that were really the saving grace of the collection; as I said with regards to Ashish, I like it when you can tell a brand has gone out of their way to experiment with patterns and actually incorporate illustration and graphic design into their pieces. Prints notwithstanding, though, it wasn’t a memorable collection and I really can’t wait for the day we put this whole multiple denim jean waistband trend to bed once and for all; in the wise words of Regina George “stop drying to make multiple waist bands happen. They’re not going to happen.”.

Carolina Herrera was just as I expected. Whilst Wes Gordon was a little more daring with the structure of the pieces than usual, you can still he’s still committed to designing for the wealthy, modestly dressed socialite (yes I’m talking about Tinsley Mortimer and yes, I have recently become obsessed with Real Housewives) and her insatiable need to collect more charity gala gowns than she’ll ever possibly have opportunities to wear in her time on this earth. Sounds like a great life, sure, but it’s not like it gets my heart racing when I see the looks on the runway. The most memorable piece for sure was double breasted blazer w the asymmetric ruffle; I haven’t seen anything like it in a RTW collection in recent memory.

Now onto the fucking train wreck that was Celine RTW.

It’s not even bad for a runway fashion show, it’s just like…straight-up bad. Like Hedi Slimane went back in time to 2013, took a bunch of models into my local Topshop (and I have to clarify my local Topshop rather than the flagship Oxford Circus store-RIP-because to do the same in the latter would produce far better results), picked up some cheap basics, switched the lights off, and then, finally, dressed them in the dark. There’s very few positive comments I can make so I’m just going to move on.

Chanel RTW I actually didn’t hate as much this season; maybe it’s because coming from Celine, my standards are like, on the floor, but it’s slightly better than usual. Whilst most of it was same old same old, the opening 10 or so looks and then from 40 onwards were alright. The colour contrast pieces were classic Chanel in a good way, that is to say somewhat modernised and appealing to a younger clientele as opposed to the elderly women who still see a boucle jacket as the height of fashion. The mini chiffon capes were also cute, and if it weren’t for COVID putting pause on everything I can see the Chanel headband being duped ad infinitum.

The worst part of the collection was without a doubt the pieces with the neon logo print, which I wish I could erase from my mind. At this point, with Virginie Viard seemingly refusing to make any attempt to reinvent the brand, Chanel is best when it’s subtle; that way it appeals to those regular customers who rely on the prestige of the garment and the new generation of consumers who are further branching out into experimenting with their personal style and want a quality base. But who I ask are these tacky ass pieces aimed at? Because though it appears to be an attempt to infuse a kind of youthful spirit into Chanel, it is very out of touch with what gen Z actually like, and I can’t imagine any rich old white ladies buying them either. Big shoulder shrug.

Whilst I tend to find Chanel’s haute couture collections a bit better than their RTW, this is probably on par. Still rather meh and frumpy at times, but there were some pretty, whimsical pieces in there that were definitely elevated by the staging which, I must say, was very dreamy. I’ve enjoyed the last couple of haute couture shows a lot more (the one with the library set was v cool), which were comparatively restrained with the frivolous details and the chintz, so this seems a step back. The dresses with the 50s Audrey Hepburn for Miss Dior style silhouette are lovely but obviously, as per the reference, nothing new.

Onto something much more exciting, we have Charlotte Knowles’ RTW collection, whose work has made her one to watch. I’m not as huge a fan of this as her last instalment, but Knowles’ (who I recently found out only just graduated from Central Saint Martins, making her achievements all the more impressive) continues to create clothes for a girl far cooler than myself; I know, that wouldn’t be hard, but we’re talking like, miles cooler. One of those women who can literally pull anything off and immediately make you want to try it yourself even though 9 times out of 10 that would be a bad idea-I could probably take, like, one piece and make it work but anything more would most likely just be me embarrassing myself. You wouldn’t think San Fransisco psychedelic summer of love motifs would mesh with futuristic Mad Max style biker vibes but Charlotte and her partner Alexandre Arsenault make it sexy AF, like a combo that was always meant to be. They are a dream team.

And lastly for this post, we have another collection I really liked: Chloe. Sadly Natacha Ramsay-Levi’s last collection for the brand, she truly went out on a high note, with a reliably gorgeous iteration of her sophisticated take on bohemian style. Who now, will we look to when we want to cosplay as one of the Jessas from Girls of the world? When we want to pretend we’re a rich, party girl socialite backpacking across Western Europe (along the foothills of Mount Tibidabo…) on a commissioned trip to “find herself” for the fashion magazine column she’s writing, whilst we’re actually on a budget family holiday in Spain? When we can’t decide if we’re dressing like a modern day Rachel Green or Phoebe Buffay and say fuck it, I’m gonna do both? I mean sure, I could never afford Chloe anyway and sure, I’m interested to see what Gabriela Hearst can do with the brand, which despite its loveliness is quite predictable, but it’s definitely sad to see Ramsay-Levi go when she has become a reliable source of elegance and class each season. She brings a quietly confident brand of femininity to the fashion world where the high profile design houses are increasingly dominated by men who are sometimes too focussed on being bold and brash enough to be hailed as the newest design visionary, and I have huge respect for that. She will be missed.

Now it feels right to end the post here, given that I just finished with a kind of dramatic memoriam for a woman who is very much still alive and given that I would really be playing with fire by trying to push Tumblr’s edit post feature any further, so I’ll wrap it up for now. In part 2, which will hopefully be out over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be looking at a surprisingly strong haute couture collection from (can’t believe I’m about to say this) Maria Grazia as well as some of my faves, Etro, Dion Lee, Gucci, and of course Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture. In the meantime, I’m hoping to get a post out on my favourite sustainable clothing brands and to shoot my take on the “what I would wear sat front row at X” video trend that’s been going around lately on TikTok and Instagram reels, which I know I am kinda late to the party with.

I’m also looking at starting “photo dump” posts where I basically just substitute what I would be putting on my Instagram feed as photo posts on here, all the way back to when I first started my fashion Instagram account. I know this is hardly a hot take, but Instagram has really gone to shit, and once I’ve moved all my photos from there to here, I’m probably going to be deleting my account and just keep my private personal one. I’m sick of the endless scrolling past photos of people edited to the point of being unrecognisable and of seeing faces that all conform to that exact same Eurocentric beauty standard with the exact same surgical procedures to the point that even I, as a thin, white cis girl feel disgusting (so god knows how others without my privilege feel) because I don’t have a fucking fox eye lift or whatever it is that internet famous surgeons are telling us we need for our faces to fit the “golden ratio” at the moment. I am OVERRR all the promoted posts from people who preach social awareness and equality and authenticity and kindness making money off promoting companies that rely on slave labour rather than those who make me feel uplifted and inspired. And I am VERY MUCH done with scrolling through share for share and like for like pages because I am embarrassed by the fact that my likes don’t match up to my follower count since that must mean that NOBODY LIKES ME AND EVERYONE HATES MY FACE, right!? Even though I’d like to think that mentality was something I grew out of a long time ago. Instagram, much like Facebook before it (which is no surprise since the latter now owns the former), has just become another cesspit of an app which exists solely to convince you to buy new clothes and follow the latest filler trend and blow money on holidays you can’t afford to convince everyone you’re living the good life. Like many others, I have finally come to the conclusion that the way Instagram operates now is nothing but detrimental to my wellbeing. So, all that being said, I’m moving my feed over here, to a place where I can just arrange my silly little photos into silly little collages and not care if I’m shouting into the void by doing so because they’re just a screenshot of my life that I can look back on in however many years time and think Oh, Cool! That’s What I Was Interested In Back Then! That Outfit is Timeless! Or That One Was a HUGE FUCKING MISTAKE! Because I do love the creative element of Instagram, turning your feed into a collage, picking out which colours compliment each other, posting your favourite art and your outfits and the makeup looks you’re proud of, the beautiful sights you’ve seen-I just hate how unbridled capitalism and unrealistic social expectations have once again destroyed a good thing, and caused it to stray so far from its original vision of connecting people. Here, I don’t care if I get 0 interactions on those kinds of posts, because I am putting stuff out there I am proud of that expresses who I am and that interests me, and when I put a lot of hard ass work into something that’s actually important or that benefits others in some way as opposed to indulging my own vanity, it does get some circulation and I hope that it does make a positive difference, regardless of how small. I hope it doesn’t bother anyone too much seeing my initial photo dump posts on their dashboard as I try and catch up to where I am now; you’ll probs see a mini influx of 2015 fashion and I’m sorry about that! But I don’t *think* it will be too long until I’m up to date and then the photo dump posts will be much less regular.

Anyway, sorry about the Instagram rant there at the end! If you read all the way til the end, this is a  huuuuge thank you! I hope you enjoyed the post and I will get the next one out ASAP, potentially with a few posts in between. As always, feel free to inbox me if there’s anything you wanted to talk about or suggest and make sure you stay safe. There may finally be some light at the end of the tunnel:D

With a cautious dose of optimism, and the acknowledgement that I will most likely regret saying this: bring on June the 21st UK gals!

Lauren x