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ao3komorii · 3 years ago

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Tangling with the Lifeguard (Pool Party Sett/Reader)

The Pool Party Sett story is done! I’ve gone with a beach!AU sort of setting where league races exist in a modern-day beach sort of place. Also sorry to any MF or Syndra mains, they don’t really come out the best in this xD Hope you enjoy, and as always, there is a smut warning for the end!

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The sun was shining high in the sky, crystalline waters lapping against the shore as beachgoers took advantage of the perfect summer day. Taking in the scene from your place in the shade of a tree on the border between the beach and parking lot, you let a smile grace your lips as you mused on just how much this place seemed to not change, even after so many years.

The last time you had set foot on this beach, you had been twelve years old, full of excitement and unaware of the harsh realities of the adult world. Your parents had brought you here for that summer, now thirteen years ago, the beautiful beach an unforgettable experience. You had left after that summer with treasured memories, and a new friend, that same friend the very reason why you had returned to Port Navori beach after so long.

Taliyah had been the same age as you, with fairly lax parents who let her roam the beach by herself, even as the small twelve-year-old she had been. You had bonded instantly, spending almost every day together, and keeping in touch through letters, and later emails and text messages.

You had long said that you had wanted to come back and visit the lively beach town, but the timing hadn’t been right, not until this year.

You were done all your schooling, and had quit your high-stress, low-pay job, and as Taliyah had said on your last phone call, you had no reason not to visit. Her parents had been travelling the world since they retired, so you would have her house all to yourselves.

In your absence, Taliyah had become a fairly accomplished surfer in the local scene, working at an ice cream shop on the beach to support her expensive pursuits. She had been so insistent that you couldn’t find yourself able to refuse her offer; work in the ice cream shop with her in the day, and then spend the rest of your time catching up with each other. You had missed your friend dearly, and had accepted the offer without a second thought.

And now here you were, waiting at the beach’s edge for Taliyah to show up. She had told you to dress for the beach, sounding casual as was her usual, so you had worn a swimsuit with a short, flowy shoulderless dress on overtop. Unwilling to look like a lobster by day’s end, you had carefully layered yourself with sunscreen, and now all you needed was for your friend to get here already. Just when you were about to get out your phone to text her, an excited call of your name had you re-stowing the phone in your bag and looking back to see your friend bounding across the parking lot towards you.

Taliyah, dressed in a two-piece water suit and carrying a tropical-flower-print surfboard, came to a stop before you, leaning her surfboard against a tree to free her arms to tackle you in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, surprising you with the strength of her hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So what’s first?” you asked as you pulled back from the hug.

Taliyah hummed. “I guess I’ll show you the shop.”

You followed her onto the beach, recognizing the small bright blue building from the pictures she had sent you before. Taliyah took you around the back, fishing a key out of her pocket before unlocking the door and leading you into the small room.

There were large tubs of ice cream in the middle of the room, the walls lined with containers of various toppings and machines. On the back wall from you were two windows, glossy menus pasted to the doors that would display out when they were opened. Upon walking closer to the menu signs, you noticed something.

“Hey, it says we open at nine, but it’s ten-thirty…”

“It’s fine,” Taliyah replied with a shrug. “The owners are pretty chill. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell them I had to train the new employee.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Sometimes you really envied Taliyah’s ability to be so carefree. Her calm energy was a big help for you, having got advice from her on numerous occasions over the years.

Taliyah came over to where you were, eyes flitting boredly to the menu boards before turning her attention back to you. “So I’m thinking we get you taking orders while I make them.”

“Works for me,” you agreed. It certainly sounded easier than figuring out what a poro float was supposed to be. You never knew ice cream stands had such fancy options now, used to the simple menus of ice cream cones and bars back at the shops in your hometown.

You were about to open the order windows when you were stopped by a rustling noise from the back of the store. You turned to see Taliyah digging in a cardboard box in the back corner, pulling out some folded-up fabric that was the same sky blue as the stand.

“Didn’t think you’d get away without an embarrassing uniform, did you?” Taliyah teased, tossing some of her fabric pile your way.

You caught the bundle, unfolding it to find an apron with Poro Palace Frozen Treats in pink bubble letters, little white fuzzy animals dotting the apron. There was an accompanying blue visor hat that looked like something out of a kid’s store. You reluctantly slipped both items of clothing on, looking back to find that Taliyah had done the same.

“Stylish, huh?” she smirked, striking a modelesque pose.

“We look like we work at an amusement park, Tali,” you laughed.

“Feels like it sometimes with all the annoying kids that come by,” she replied. “Okay, you can open it up now.”

Taliyah settled herself down in a chair in front of the section of ice cream tubs, and you reluctantly turned to unlatch and open the windows, unsure of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

The small room lit up with the outside sunlight streaming in from your window to outside, the immediate glare of the sun making you wish you had worn sunglasses.

Almost immediately, the masses were upon you. You noticed a woman with several children in tow who perked up as she laid eyes on you, striding over to you with her children right behind her, pushing each other as they scrambled to be the first one to get over to you.

You heard Taliyah groan behind you. “Get the pen ready. They always have the most annoying orders.”

You rose an eyebrow, but picked up the pen and notepad that sat beside the cash register as the woman came to a stop before you.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for an hour already. You young girls don’t know how hard it is for mothers,” the woman complained, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “Alright, tell her what you want.”

“I want a brownie sundae!” a small boy with blue hair who clearly intended to make full use of his outdoor voice shouted. “But with cotton candy ice cream and pop rocks and I want only blue candies!”

“Uh…” The kid was talking too fast for you to write, but luckily Taliyah had your back, a got it ringing out from behind you.

You weren’t sure how you had managed to get their orders out before they melted, messing up their total several times before Taliyah had to come and help you out. With a last snide look and a fistful of blue napkins, the mother and her little terrors left the stand at last.

“She’s the worst,” Taliyah said, bringing your weary gaze her way as she cleaned off an ice cream scoop. “I accidentally put one red candy in that kid’s sundae once and he screamed until I remade the whole thing!”

You winced. “Feels like we got off easy today.”

“Yeah,” Taliyah agreed. “Helps that they order the same thing every time, so I’ve got some practice.”

“Are they all this bad?” you asked, turning away from the window after seeing no potential customers nearby.

“Not all of them,” she replied with a strained smile. “I swear the heat just brings the jerk out in some of the people here.”

Speaking of jerks… your conversation was interrupted by an impatient-sounding throat clearing noise from behind you. You whirled around to see a redheaded woman with heart-shaped sunglasses and a revealing swimsuit leaning against your counter. She was staring at you like you were gum she had stepped in, flipping some hair over her shoulder when she knew she had your attention.

“Five cherry snowballs,” she said, dropping a few coins on your counter, some of which bounced and hit the floor. “To the red umbrella, thanks ice cream girl.”

Without any further interaction, she turned on her heel and strutted away, hips swinging as she went, leaving you wondering what had just happened.

You slowly turned back to face Taliyah again. “Um, do we usually deliver?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not to people like that anyways.”

“But…” you protested weakly. You knew Taliyah got away with a lot here, but you didn’t want her to lose her job because some rude girl complained to her bosses. “I’ll just take them over and next time I’ll just say we don’t deliver.”

“Still tempted to put rocks in their snowballs,” Taliyah joked as she set about piling the scoops of red ice.

Soon you had a tray with five cherry syrup-coated piles of shaved ice in little plastic bowls with accompanying little plastic spoons stuck in the side of the dishes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading past Taliyah to the back door, opening it to find yourself back out in the mid-morning heat.

The sand still felt uncomfortably hot underfoot, even with your flip flops on. With how hot it was out, these would have to be delivered as soon as possible to not be a puddle by the time they were eaten. Your only problem was that you had no idea where to go.

The redhead had said that she would be at the red umbrella, but of course nothing at this ice cream stand would be that easy. Standing just outside the hut, you were treated to a veritable rainbow of colored beach umbrellas. You counted at least ten red ones scattered across the beach, none particularly standing out to you. You didn’t have many options, and were forced to go with the most tedious one; checking every red umbrella until you found the girl and her group.

The first umbrella had been a bust, as had the next five. The sixth had led to a sweaty old man who told you that you were just in time to help him sunscreen his back. By the time you had hurriedly fled from that creep, it had been about five minutes of searching, the snowballs on your tray looking considerably droopier than they had been when you had left the shop.

You stared down at the tray of melting treats, unsure of what to do now. Should you go back and have Taliyah remake the snowballs? Try a few more umbrellas and hope you got lucky? You really hadn’t been anticipating this much stress when you had agreed to work here with Taliyah for the summer.

You frowned at the now-more-water-than-ice treats, your decision made. You couldn’t serve these, not as melted as they were. You would go back and help remake them and see if Taliyah had any insight as to which red umbrella was the right one. You turned around to head back to the stand, only to trip on your overheating flip flops and fall forward with a cry.

You had closed your eyes with a flinch as you fell, but opened them with a start as you heard a grunt from right in front of you. Looking up from your position in the burning sand, you felt like your heart was going to stop in your chest.

Standing before you was the most attractive guy you had ever laid eyes on, with fire red hair and a pair of black animal ears that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a tight pair of swim shorts, a lightweight red jacket tied around his waist. He had a flower lei around his neck, but that was the only thing that he wore on his top half, his insanely-well-built torso on full display, a torso you realized with horror was currently splattered with red syrup and shaved ice.

You looked from the hot guy to the ground, the sand around you speckled with plastic cups, spoons and napkins, your tray turned upside down in the sand. You slowly risked a gaze back up, only to see the guy staring down at you from behind his pink-tinted sunglasses as a clump of ice fell from his stomach to the sand just in front of your hands.

Embarrassment forced you to spring up, grabbing some stray napkins from the ground and dabbing them against the mess of syrup and ice on the man’s abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, I–” You looked up from your apologizing to see the man silently staring at you, your hand freezing in place as you realized that you were basically feeling this guy up through the napkins, the realization making your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry!” you cried out, pulling your hands back. He still hadn’t said anything, and you realized that you couldn’t just stand here like an idiot, your flight instinct kicking in as you reached down to grab your tray before moving around the man and fleeing in the direction of the ice cream stand.

“Hey, wait!”

The man tried to grab your arm as you passed, but you were faster in your embarrassment-fueled retreat, and soon the hot stranger was far behind you. You didn’t stop running until you were back at the shop, the empty sand-logged tray clutched tightly to your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you shut the door, making eye contact with a confused Taliyah.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, getting up to approach you when you didn’t respond. “Talk to me. What happened? If that snob said anything to you–”

“No, no, she didn’t,” you replied weakly, sinking to the floor with your back against the door. “I didn’t even get to her.”

“Then what happened?” she pressed, bringing you a glass of water and prying the tray from your hands at last.

She ushered you to your feet and down into her chair, taking a seat on one of the counters. You took a deep breath, taking a sip of the water before recounting the events of the past ten minutes to Taliyah, who listened silently.

“…I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran,” you finished, setting your water down to bury your face in your hands.

“It’s no big deal,” Taliyah replied gently. “Everyone has embarrassed themselves in front of someone. Remember that time I tripped over my board in front of that group of tourists?”

“I covered him in cherry syrup, Tali,” you groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“It’s your first day,” she stressed. “You’re bound to mess some things up.”

She stood up, returning to the shaved ice machine. “Now how about we remake those snowballs and then I’ll–”

Taliyah had frozen in place, a plastic cup in her hand as she stared straight ahead.

“Tali?” you questioned, standing up. “Are you–”

“That guy you dumped the snowballs on,” she quickly interrupted. “Did he have majorly cut abs and animal ears?”

“Uh, why?” You felt a jolt of fear shoot up your spine as you followed her gaze to see the man from earlier currently approaching the shop, well-defined abdomen now minus the sticky mess you had spilt all over him. “Oh god, it’s him!”

You and Taliyah exchange wide-eyed glances before you dove down out of sight, hiding behind the tubs of ice cream like they were a fortress.

“Please get rid of him!” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t face him!”

You heard Taliyah sigh. “Fine, but this means you’re coming stone hunting with me tonight.”

You agreed immediately, even if the prospect wasn’t overwhelmingly appealing. Taliyah was always eager to add to her collection of shiny stones, but was so picky that it often took hours to find just one stone that met her standards. But right now you were so desperate that you would have promised her anything just to make the angry hot guy go away.

From your position behind the ice cream tubs, you could only hear Taliyah’s voice clearly, the general noise of the beach preventing you from hearing what the furry-eared man was saying. You wanted to peek out from your hiding spot, but found yourself chickening out. You really didn’t need him catching sight of you and making Taliyah’s job even harder.

You had gotten so in your own head with panic that you had completely tuned out of your surroundings until a hand waved in front of your face and you realized Taliyah was crouching in front of you, calling your name.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Is he gone?” you replied quietly.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing your forearms to pull you up with her. “Now help me remake those snowballs and then I’ll fill you in.”

You bit your lip as you scooped shaved ice into a row of plastic cups as Taliyah readied the cherry syrup. Soon you had five pristine-looking snowballs on your slightly-sandy tray, the sight of them bringing you back to your moment of collision with the cute guy.

The tray was snatched from your field of vision by Taliyah, who headed over to the rear door. “Be back in a few. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

And then the door was closed and you were left alone. Looking over at the order window, you decided that you were probably safer to just resume your position behind the ice cream tubs, unwilling to risk being out in the open in case the guy decided to come back.

While she was gone, you couldn’t help but fret over exactly what had been said between your best friend and the mysterious hot guy. She didn’t seem to be upset, so clearly their conversation hadn’t been that intense. Or maybe it had; Taliyah was a fairly relaxed person, so it would be difficult for a random angry customer to really get to her. But that didn’t quite make sense either; if he had yelled at her, you would have heard it over the noise of the beachgoers. All you were doing was overthinking yourself to death, exactly what Taliyah had told you not to do.

And it was there you remained until Taliyah returned, closing the door behind her and placing the serving tray in the sink before she turned her attention to you at last.

“Calm down, it’s fine… I think,” she said.

“You think?”

“Well he didn’t seem mad,” she explained. “He asked if a girl that looked like you worked here and I said you went home sick. Said he’d come back another time.”

“Another–” Oh god. Was he really so angry that he was willing to come back just for the chance to yell at you?

“I can see you freaking out,” Taliyah scolded. “Don’t. You’re fine. Musclehead or not, he’s not going to kill you just because you spilled shaved ice on him.”

She was probably right; hot shirtless guys on the beach likely had more important things to do than yelling at clumsy ice cream shop workers. By tomorrow, he would probably forget you ever existed, and you could go back to enjoying your time working alongside your best friend.

The rock collecting that night had been long and boring, at least for you. Taliyah hadn’t found any rocks she liked enough to take home, only ending the search after she had found some sea glass that she had deemed acceptable to add to her collection. You could only hope that you wouldn’t owe her any more favors any time soon, unsure if you could survive another late night rock hunt.

The next morning, you entered the shop alongside Taliyah, who put her bag down and began to set up the day’s supplies. Considering it was ten minutes past opening time and Taliyah had insisted that she didn’t need help setting up, you decided that you might as well just open the order window for the day, hoping that mom and her group of demon kids wouldn’t be waiting out there, only to unlatch the widows and see something arguably worse.

The window had only been open a peek, but it was enough for you to see the large figure of the man from yesterday standing ten feet or so from your shop, his back facing you as he stared out at the beach. In your brief glimpse, you also noticed that the jacket wrapped around his waist had a white plus sign in a circle as well as the word lifeguard in white blocky letters above it. Oh god, of course you had gone and pissed off a lifeguard on your first day here.

You shut the barely-open windows with a too-loud slam that made you wince before you quickly locked them again and rushed over to Taliyah.

“Tali, he’s here again!” you hissed.

“Huh?” she replied, pausing her task of refilling a container of sprinkles. “Muscle guy?”

You nodded frantically and Taliyah frowned, putting the sprinkles down and approaching the order window herself. You watched as she opened the window ever so slightly, peering out for a few seconds before closing it back up.

“Well… can’t say I was expecting him to actually come back,” she said evenly.

“What do I even do?” you asked, staring at the order windows like they would burst open at any second and reveal you to the clearly-determined lifeguard. “He’s a lifeguard, Tali! What if he bans me from the beach?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “He can’t just ban you from the beach. Lifeguards don’t have that much power. If they did, I would’ve been banned a long time ago for all the times I’ve surfed after hours.”

“Then what does he want with me?” you asked, looking away from the window.

Taliyah shrugged. “You’d have to ask him that.”

“But what if I… don’t?” you replied weakly. “He’ll give up eventually, right?”

“I mean, maybe?” she said. “But it might be easier to deal with him now and get it over with.”

You saw her point, but it wasn’t her that was being pursued by a tall, muscly lifeguard with a vengeance!

Taliyah clearly caught the reluctance on your face and sighed. “Fine, I’ll switch with you for today. Now let’s go over how to make the basic stuff before we open.”

True to her word, Taliyah had allowed you to hide in the back making orders, telling the lifeguard guy that you were off today. You watched him walk away from behind the shaved ice machine, hoping that your ordeal was finally over, but your hopes were quickly dashed the next day as you went to open the store again, only to see the same broad back facing you from just outside the shop.

Taliyah had reluctantly agreed to switch again that day, and the day after. But by day four, even the promise of helping her scavenge for rocks again wouldn’t get her to agree to switch.

You closed the window again, turning to Taliyah with pleading eyes, but she was having none of it.

“It’s been four days,” she said, arms crossed. “Clearly he’s not giving up. You should just see what he wants.”

“But…” The thought still terrified you. You knew you deserved to be yelled at for what you had done, but it was made that much worse by the fact that the subject of your plight was just about the hottest guy you had ever seen.

Taliyah shook her head at you. “Okay, but I’m not doing orders again today, so if you want to keep hiding from him, we’ll have to move onto plan B.”

Plan B, as it turned out, was a mascot suit of sorts; three fluffy poros stacked on top of each other like a snowman. A poro each made up your upper and lower body, the last poro being the head of the costume. You looked incredibly awkward, the arms and legs of the costume hairy and tipped with little brown claws. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer lengths you were going to just to avoid this guy, but you were already in the costume, so you reasoned that you might as well follow through with it now.

Taliyah put the costume’s head on you and your world was plunged largely into darkness, minus the mesh one-way view out of the top poro’s eyes. You were helped to the back door, some fliers for the store shoved into your hands.

Taliyah helped you walk out front, and you were pretty quickly swarmed by kids. You couldn’t see the lifeguard guy, but the relief that coursed through you was short-lived, swallowed by the immediate explosion of business brought on by your costume.

One thing you hadn’t considered in your haste was the heat. You weren’t sure if it was the costume or if today was hotter than usual, but very quickly you found yourself becoming a sweaty mess under the weight of the dense, furry costume.

The longer you were in the costume, the worse you felt, but you were determined to stick this out. So you handed out fliers and posed for photos with children while Taliyah ran the stand.

You wished that you could wipe the sweat from your face, but you weren’t sure if you could even reach up to remove the costume’s head yourself due to the awkward shape of the costume. So you endured the ever-increasing heat, only feeling wearier as the time ticked by.

You waved goodbye to a group of kids as they left with their ice cream cones, the sweltering heat really bearing down on you. As you went to turn and head back to the stand to ask Taliyah to help get the head off, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. You took one step towards the stand, and then another, and then it all went dark as you felt yourself falling forward, too weak to stop your descent to the ground.

You woke up with a heavy head, feeling foggy with confusion. The last thing you remembered, you had been heading back to the stand…

Immediately, you realized that you weren’t at the ice cream stand, and you weren’t wearing the poro suit, or even your beach dress. Sitting up in the cot you laid in, you found that you were wearing only your swimsuit.

As you sat up, a blue ice pack that you hadn’t realized was there fell from your forehead and into your lap. Picking it up, the pack only feeling slightly cold, you turned to look around the room, still unsure what exactly was going on.

You were in a room of some sort, guessing it was afternoon by the minute amount of light filtering into the room, even through the closed curtains. There was a fan gently whirring above your head, but otherwise the room was silent.

There was another cot beside yours, and a table nearby with a few red first aid kits stacked on it, some bandages messily spilling out of one of them. There was a sign pulled over the door, the side facing you reading come on in, we’re open.

You got up from the bed, shuddering with disgust when you noticed just how sweaty your whole body was. The bed squeaked as you got up from it, your knees hitting a bedside table between the cots that you hadn’t noticed had been there. On the small table was a glass of water, as well as a white fan that was emblazoned with what looked to be a group of cats waterskiing.

You picked up the fan, letting out a small laugh at the silly-looking cartoon cats on the fan. It looked like something you could win at a carnival booth.

“If you can laugh, then I guess you’re feelin’ alright.”

A deep voice from behind you made you jump, fingers fumbling the fan, which fell onto the floor with a clatter that was only made louder in the quiet room. You turned to look behind you, only to fall off the cot in shock when you saw the very lifeguard you had been trying so hard to avoid standing in the doorway of a small office you hadn’t noticed was there.

“Hey, careful!” He quickly crossed the room to squat down in front of you, taking your elbow and helping you back up onto the cot. You were too stunned to resist and found yourself falling into his chest as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“You okay?” he asked, and you tried to nod, but your head was spinning too much to focus. “Hey, hold still.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady against him until you were able to regain your focus. When he was satisfied with your condition, he pulled back, releasing your shoulders and instead reaching out for the glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink,” he instructed, handing you the cup before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at you for a moment before finally turning back and heading into the office at the back of the room.

You watched him go, feeling on edge, but complied, bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a long drink. The last thing you wanted to do was give this guy more reason to be upset with you. You were surprised at just how refreshing the water felt, and you had soon downed the entire glass, placing it back on the table when you were done.

“Alright, lay back down,” the lifeguard instructed as he returned.

“What?” you replied. What was he going to do to you? How had you even got here? Where was Taliyah?

He stopped before you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at your shaky, terrified form. “Are you–”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “I didn’t mean to spill the snowballs on you! If you need to yell at me, go ahead. I’m sorry I didn’t just come out sooner and–”

It had occurred to you mid-ramble that he had yet to say anything, and you cut off your babbling, slowly looking up to find him staring at you with what you could only describe as a bewildered look on his face.

He blinked. “Is that why–”

“I’m so sorry!” you interrupted, bowing your head again. “If you want to ban me from the beach, I get it!”

“Ban ya from the beach?” he replied with a bark of laughter. “The only thing I wanted to do was get your number.”

“My… what?” You had to be hallucinating. There was no way he had just said that.

“Lay down first,” he spoke sternly, and you complied, still feeling stunned by his words.

Once you were laid down, he picked something up from the bed, which you recognized as another ice pack. He placed it on your forehead, the cool pack immediately flooding you with a feeling of relief. Closing your eyes, you let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling fatigued.

“Get some rest, princess. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

You took his advice, the cooling from the ice pack lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

When you woke up again, you felt infinitely better, your head clearer and body feeling less overheated. The ice pack on your forehead was room temperature, and it was now dark outside. There was a light illuminating your left side as you sat up in bed, turning to see the office in the back with its light on.

The cot squeaked under you, which was responded to by the squeak of a chair from inside the office, the red-haired lifeguard emerging from the office and approaching your bedside.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked, and you nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Got you some more water.”

You looked over to the bedside table to see the water cup refilled and took hold of it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the intimidatingly muscular man before you.

You drank the entire glass before you forced yourself to finally address the situation before you. “Um… why am I here?”

“You passed out,” he replied bluntly, taking a seat on the cot next to yours. “Overheated yourself in that rat costume.”

“They’re not rats, they’re poros,” you replied, unsure of what to say.

He let out a huff of laughter. “Poros that important to you that you’re willin’ to fry yourself for ‘em?”

“No, that was…” you trailed off. Well, you might as well just admit it. If he had gone out of his way to care for you after you had passed out like an idiot, then he deserved the truth. “I was avoiding you. I was scared you were going to yell at me. My friend didn’t want to keep covering for me at the window so I decided to wear that stupid poro costume.”

“So that’s what that was about,” he replied. “And here I thought you were avoidin’ me ‘cuz you weren’t interested. Gave up on gettin’ your number and then got news that someone passed out from heat stroke.”

You were still having a hard time comprehending the asking for your number part, so you instead chose to focus on the other half. “Heat stroke?”

“Not sure what you expected, wearin’ that costume in this heat,” he said. “Can’t say nobody’s ever been afraid of me before, but giving themself heat stroke just to avoid me is a new one.”

He sounded somewhat self-deprecating, and you immediately felt bad. You had clearly misjudged him, and realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the snowball incident himself.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, even with as awkward as you were currently felt. “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble, and for spilling snowballs all over you. I’m just really sorry.”

He laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for. I’ve had worse get on me since I started workin’ here, and usually it ain’t from a cute girl.”

You tensed in your seat, tearing your gaze from his to look down at your feet, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hey, don’t go overheatin’ yourself again,” he scolded, standing up from the bed. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I think it’s best if I take ya home. Don’t need your friend yellin’ at me again if you pass out on the way back.”

As much as you wanted to deny his assertion of you being not interested, you couldn’t muster up the courage, so you instead quietly accepted his offer of help. You would have to ask Taliyah what he had meant when you got back.

It was surprisingly cold on the beach at night, the icy breeze sending shivers along your skin. You stared out at the dark ocean waves, entranced by the water crashing against the sand, when your focus was broken by some soft fabric being laid over your shoulders.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Sett just behind you on the steps of the lifeguard office, the jacket that was usually around his waist now laying on your shoulders.

He caught your curious look and raised an eyebrow. “You nearly cooked yourself to death today, I ain’t about to let you freeze yourself to death now.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, reaching a hand up to keep the jacket around your shoulders.

Your feet met the soft sand as you followed Sett towards the parking lot. The beach was totally empty, an odd contrast to how things were in the daytime. It felt weird to actually see the shape of the landscape unobscured by giant beach umbrellas and a sea of bodies. You only looked away from the empty scene when you realized that you had left the sand, and Sett was staring expectantly at you.

“…what?” you asked, getting the feeling that he had said something that you had missed.

“Which way?” he repeated with a quick glance at the street ahead of you.

“Oh right,” you replied. “My friend lives on Sandstone Way.”

Sett’s ears perked up. “By that tacky souvenir shop?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Right by there.”

You giggled at Sett’s assessment; you had noticed the eye-hurtingly brightly painted store when Taliyah had walked you to her house from the train station. She had rolled her eyes at the store as you surveyed the display of t-shirts with embarrassing designs on them, stating that sometimes they got some good rocks in, but it wasn’t worth the amount of tourists always asking for directions when she was walking around the neighborhood.

Looking over at Sett out of the corner of your eye, you were struggling to think of anything to say. He was dressed in just his sandals and shorts, his sunglasses forgone and giving you a clear look at his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“So this your first summer here?” Sett asked, breaking the brief silence as you walked side by side. “I know I’d remember you if I’d seen ya before.”

“I was here for a summer when I was a kid,” you answered. “But everything looks so different now. Maybe I just saw this place differently when I was a kid.”

“Nah,” he dismissed. “It never used to be this busy here. Tourists bring money to this place, but it means it’s always loud around here.”

The conversation was slowly helping you feel more comfortable with the intimidatingly handsome lifeguard. You felt dumb for putting so much energy into avoiding him.

“So have you always lived here?” you asked.

“Born and raised,” he answered with a grin that you couldn’t help but feel looked a little sad. “Ma used to work at the boating shop… and the laundromat… and the candy store.”

“All at the same time?” you asked incredulously.

Sett shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pa ran off on us when I was a kid, and it wasn’t like anyone would hire a fatherless runt to work for them.”

“Sounds like it was hard,” you replied. “Did you ever find out where he went?”

“For his sake, I’d better not,” Sett sneered. “I heard ma cry missin’ that scumbag more times than I can count. There ain’t a family here for that bastard to come back to.”

“How is your mom doing?” you asked as you turned onto Sandstone Way, passing by the tacky tourist shop, the flashy paint on the walls too bright even at night.

“She’s doin’ good,” he answered, finally looking happy with a satisfied smile. “Got her to quit her jobs when I started workin’ enough to pay the bills.”

“You’re a good son,” you complimented him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled at him, coming to a stop before Taliyah’s house. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I don’t wanna see you passin’ out again.”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied. “No more poro costumes for me.”

“On that topic,” he purred, leaning closer to you. “You never gave me an answer.”

“An answer?” you squeaked, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get your number for days now,” he replied, and you did your best to supress a shiver from running up your spine. Was this real life?

You wet your lips with your tongue nervously, unable to miss how Sett’s sharp eyes watched the movement.

“I, um, I don’t have my phone on me,” you said, immediately realizing how dumb you sounded. You didn’t need your phone on you to tell him your number! You hastily made to amend your statement. “…but if you come by the stand tomorrow, I’ll give it to you!”

“Oh?” Sett’s grin was wide, gold eyes flashing dangerously. “I s’pose I could find some time to stop by. See you then, sweetheart.”

Sett turned to walk away, but you stopped him with a call of his name. “Wait, your jacket–”

“Keep it for the night,” Sett replied. “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

You reluctantly agreed, stunned silent by his bold flirting, his jacket sitting warm on your shoulders as you watched him walk away. You stared at his broad back until he was out of sight, only then turning to head inside, knowing Taliyah would be waiting.

The next morning she was still on you as you spent some extra time getting ready.

“I still can’t believe he gave you his jacket,” she teased with a grin. “I mean, I figured he was probably into you, but–”

“You what?” you replied as you paused styling your hair.

“I kept telling you to talk to him,” she replied. “No guy like that is going to wait outside your work for days in a row just to yell at you for spilling ice on him. But I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

“I just feel so stupid giving myself heat stroke just go avoid him,” you lamented.

“Yeah,” Taliyah frowned. “If I had realized it was that hot out, I never would’ve let you go out in that thing.”

“It’s my own fault for being so dumb,” you insisted.

“But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Taliyah grinned as she slipped on her water shoes. “You’ve got a hot lifeguard coming to visit you at work today.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still super nervous,” you said, adjusting your beach dress over your most flattering swimsuit.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah replied. “He’s clearly super into you. You should’ve seen him when you passed out yesterday.”

“What?” You had been so tired last night that you had only told her the basics before crashing for the night, completely forgetting to ask her what had happened yesterday.

“Someone got him when you collapsed,” she told you. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled off the poro head and saw it was you inside the costume! I tried to come with, but he told me he’d handle it. I maaay have threatened his life if anything happened to you, but just a little.”

You laughed. So that’s what Sett had been referring to.

Taliyah came up from behind you as you stared at your appearance in the mirror, resting her chin on your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Relax, you look great. Fuzzy ear boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”

“Fuzzy ear–” you sputtered, laughing at Taliyah’s choice of words. “I guess his ears do look pretty fuzzy.”

“Well if he lets you pet them, tell me how soft they are!” she teased, pulling back from you to grab her bag. “Now let’s go. You’ve got a boy to meet!”

You somehow felt even more nervous today than you had the few days you had spent avoiding Sett. You were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that a guy that looked like he had walked straight out of a fireman’s calendar was coming to your little beachfront ice cream stand for the sole purpose of getting your phone number. And his jacket, which was folded neatly on the countertop beside you.

You weren’t exactly sure when he was going to come. Usually, he would be there waiting outside in the morning before you opened, but all you had opened up to today was a sparsely-populated beachfront, no handsome lifeguards to be seen. By two in the afternoon, your anxiety had begun to get the better of you.

“Stop pacing,” Taliyah scolded you. “He’ll be here.”

“But what if he decided not to?” you said, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “What if this was just a joke?”

“Then I’ll go kick his butt,” she responded plainly. “He’ll come. Relax.”

You were about to reply, when a ding of the service bell at the order window had you spinning around, ready to take an order, only for the words to die on your lips when you laid eyes on the well-muscled lifeguard with the fuzzy black ears just outside the order window, sending a grin your way.

“Here to pick up my order,” he said, leaning an arm against the window.

“Your… order?” you replied, too entranced by his appearance to properly make use of your brain.

“A pretty girl promised me her number if I came by,” he replied, looking down at you through his sunglasses.

“I… right… I…” You turned back quickly to see Taliyah staring expectantly at you, mouthing the word number at you. Right.

With slightly shaky hands, you reached for the small notepad at the front counter, taking that and a pen in hand and trying not to focus on the fact that Sett was watching you as you began to write.

Double-checking that the number was right, you handed the paper to him, your fingers touching as he took it from you. Remembering about your other promise, you reached over to grab the lifeguard jacket from the counter beside you. You went to hand him his jacket, surprised when he didn’t take it from you.

“What time do you get off?” he asked, and you answered a quiet six. “Give it back to me then.”

With a short wave and a grin, Sett made a show of stowing the phone number in his pocket before sauntering off and leaving you standing there slack-jawed.

“See? Was that so hard?” Taliyah called from her seat at the ice machine. “Now you just have to keep it together for your date.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you said, leaning back against the counter.

“You did last night, didn’t you?” she countered. “He’s just a guy. A really hot guy, but still. Don’t freak yourself out. You deserve a nice guy. It’s just a bonus that he has more abs than spiders have legs!”

You let out an amused huff. Taliyah was right, as she always was. You needed to get over yourself and let yourself have a good time tonight.”

But for now, you had customers to deal with. You and Taliyah let out a shared groan as you saw the nightmare mom and her army of brats heading towards you. You both returned to your posts, hoping their overly-complicated orders would be right on the first try this time.

Taliyah let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head before beginning the process of cleaning up for the day. After the last customer left, you hastily closed the order window, not wanting to give anyone the chance to come and beg about how it was only five minutes past closing and they’ve been wanting a banana split all day. You had learned your lesson from that mistake on day two.

Once the order windows were closed and locked, you joined Taliyah at the side counter, helping to return all the different containers of toppings to their rightful places. You found your hands moving slower, your nerves slowing you down in order to prolong the inevitable.

Taliyah eventually got tired of your pitiful attempt at stalling for time and gently removed the container of blue sprinkles from your grasp. “Just go, I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Taliyah sent you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

“I hope you know I expect all the details later!” she grinned as you made your way to the door, hesitating with your hand on the door handle for only a moment before opening the door.

It was mercifully less warm outside today than it had been yesterday, not to mention that you were also minus a heavy mascot costume. Yesterday hadn’t ended too badly for you, but you would still prefer to not end today in a hospital if you exacerbated your current heat-sensitive state.

You weren’t sure if you preferred if Sett was already there, or if you got there first to wait for him; neither option seemed to abate your nerves. But of course, the lifeguard was prompt as always, leaning against one of the beams that held up the awning above the order window.

You didn’t think you had been making much noise walking along the sand, but he seemed to hear you, turning to face you with a grin as you approached.

“Ready?” he asked as you came to a stop before him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep your cool.

“Yeah,” you answered, impressed that your voice hadn’t come out squeaky with how nervous you were.

“Good,” he replied, before his grin turned teasing. “Was half expectin’ ya to come on our date in that rat costume.”

“Poro!” you corrected again, trying not to get flustered by his mention of this being a date. You weren’t sure what else it would be, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when he had acknowledged the obvious.

He surprised you by taking your hand, pulling you along with him as you tried desperately not to stumble and fall into the sand.

The beach crowd was beginning to thin out, people heading home or to one of the many beachfront restaurants nearby. Watching as a kid packed up his sand toys, you wondered if one of those restaurants was where you were headed as well. Sett hadn’t told you anything about what the plan was, and you found yourself curious when he led you to the bright white lifeguard office.

At first, you had thought that maybe he had forgotten something, at least until you followed him into the small building to see what looked to be the table that had previously held all the first aid kits, now decked out in a soft-looking purple picnic blanket. On top of the makeshift picnic table was a spread of various tasty-looking finger foods, the scene completed by two chairs pulled up to the table, cushions with a starfish pattern placed on the seats.

You were perhaps too dumbfounded by the sight, as you snapped out of it to Sett calling your name, looking over at him to see him looking surprisingly tense. You should probably say something, you realized.

“It looks great,” you said, meaning every word as you looked over the table. “Are those cabbage rolls?”

“Ma helped me make ‘em,” Sett explained, looking bashful for the first time since you had met him as he raised an arm to scratch at the back of his neck. “Helped me with all of this, actually. Never done anythin’ like this before.”

“You mean a picnic?” you asked curiously.

Sett chuckled. “Picnics. Dates. Not a lotta women ‘round here who wanted anythin’ to do with a fatherless half-breed.”

You had a hard time believing that; you had noticed several mothers checking him out as they packed their family’s stuff to leave the beach. But the hint of something sad in his eyes made you reconsider. You had no memory of seeing someone like him that summer you had spent here, but it wasn’t like that was a surprise to you. You and Taliyah had been in your own little world at that time, only ever spending time with each other.

“Well I’m excited to try your cooking,” you said, figuring a change of subject was for the best.

Sett grinned as he sat down. “Should be decent. Haven’t poisoned anyone since high school.”

Your eyes widened, hand freezing on its path to grab a cabbage roll, startled eyes darting to his.

Sett let out a bark of laughter at your alarmed face. “Relax. Wouldn’t poison ya. Maybe those kids that keep swimmin’ into the boating zone, but not you.”

“Thanks… I think?” you replied, biting your lip as you stared down at the cabbage rolls, weighing your options.

“Wasn’t real poison anyways,” he scoffed, taking some rolls from himself. “Not my fault sugar and salt look the same.”

You laughed, grabbing some food for yourself at last. “I suppose they kinda do.”

“Ma didn’t wanna hurt my feelings, but I knew when I tried some myself,” he explained.

“It was nice of her to try,” you offered.

“Too nice,” he said. “Ma is always too nice. Never said anythin’ bad about my old man, even after what he did. Had to work three jobs for years because of that bastard, but not a word.”

“Well I’m sure she’s glad she has you,” you commented. “Even if you give her food poisoning sometimes.”

“Once,” he corrected, taking a bite. “Learned my lesson the first time.”

You followed his lead, finding the food to be entirely poison-free, and actually the best home-cooked meal you had eaten in a long time. The conversation moved to swapping work stories, and you were unsurprised to find out that the mother and her the demon children had been a thorn in Sett’s side as well.

“They really buried sleeping sunbathers in sand?”

“Five times in a day one time,” Sett grouchily confirmed. “Last time Braum went to handle it. Said I would bury those little assholes under the sand if I had to go yell at them one more time.”

You sympathized with his pain. You felt lucky that you had only experienced the tip of the annoyingness iceberg with that group of little terrors.

“Braum?” you inquired as you both left the lifeguard office, the beach now fully dark.

“Fellow lifeguard,” he answered, nonchalantly taking your hand in his as you made your way off the beach. “Bald, giant moustache, even bigger than me. Better at the whole gentle-but-firm thing than I am.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him before. He comes by for poro pops sometimes,” you said, mind drawing a picture of the surprisingly friendly man in the small purple swim bottoms with a weakness for poro-shaped ice pops. “So are you the head lifeguard then?”

Sett considered your question. “Guess I am the boss of ‘em. All of the other lifeguards are always comin’ at me with problems to solve. The extra pay doesn’t hurt either if I wanna keep momma from feelin’ like she has to work.”

“Say thank you to her from me for the dinner. It was really good,” you said as you passed by the familiar tacky souvenir shop.

“She’ll be happy to hear it,” he replied with a soft smile that made your heart thump in your chest. “I know she wishes she had more to cook for than just me.”

You both came to a stop before Taliyah’s house, and you sneakily glanced over just to make sure Taliyah wasn’t peeking out from a window, which she wasn’t. You turned your focus back to Sett, only to find him closer than he had just been. How was he so good at sneaking up on you?

A large hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, and your face was tilted up towards Sett’s. You were glad it was dark out, because otherwise you knew your reddening cheeks would be obvious.

“Still afraid of me?” he asked, voice low, lips so close to yours that you could make out a small scar that crossed over his bottom lip.

“No,” you answered, making no move to pull away as you stared up into his eyes. “Not unless I was about to taste your high school cooking.”

“Smart,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’m talkin’ about right now, because if you don’t turn and run into that house, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your bag almost tumbled from your grasp, but you held fast as you stared at Sett, whose own had already become half-lidded. You had no words to describe how much you didn’t want to run right now, so you didn’t use any, instead angling your face further upwards, trying to make your willingness abundantly clear.

With a grin, he leaned down and kissed you.

Pulling back slightly, he dove back in, his other hand coming to your waist to pull you against him. You happily leant into him, your hands on his firm chest.

When he pulled back again, you opened your eyes at last, feeling almost as dizzy as right before you had passed out from heat stroke.

Sett looked content, and you were only hoping you looked half as composed as he did right now. He leaned back in to give you one more peck before pulling back from you entirely, the cold from the air outside immediately apparent as soon as you were minus his warm hands against your skin.

“Think I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said. “Been cravin’ a cherry snowball for some reason lately.”

Sett was a man of his word, you learned, though you were less happy to see him the next day when he asked if he could order a cherry snowball served like last time, and then laughed as you had proceeded to sputter like a broken machine.

His visits became daily, sometimes bringing Braum with him, who continued to surprise you with the sheer amount of poro pops he was able to consume in one sitting. Quite a few nights a week, you had found yourself all around Port Navori with the half-Vastayan lifeguard. You were surprised at how supportive Taliyah was being, considering you had originally come here to spend time with her.

“Gives me more time to surf,” she answered with a shrug when you had asked her. “And maybe that boyfriend of yours can convince you to stay here after the summer is over.”

“Boyfriend?” you yelped, and Taliyah raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t? I thought he would have made it official by now. It’s been over two weeks… have you guys even done it?”

“Taliyah!” you scolded her, switching back to professional mode as a group of people approached the stand.

As you helped prepare their orders, you couldn’t help but think about what she had said. You and Sett had kissed quite a lot actually, but he had yet to do more than that. But it was far too embarrassing a subject for you to have the confidence to broach, so you had resolved yourself to just be content with things as they were.

It was just your luck that right then was when Sett had decided to make his daily visit to the stand, approaching the counter as the other group left.

Taliyah apparently wasn’t done pestering you for the day as she sped to meet him at the counter before you could get there yourself.

“Hey!” she greeted Sett with a sly smile as you stood frozen behind her, nervous about her motivations. “You’re on your break, right?”

Sett raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well,” she said, in the voice you knew meant that she wanted something. “There’s a surfing contest I entered, and it’s almost my turn and it won’t even take that long and–”

“Tali!” you interrupted, rushing over to the counter.

“All I need is an hour,” Taliyah insisted, before pulling you beside her at the counter. “And she needs some help while I’m gone since lunchtime is when most of the people come by.”

“I’m fine, I–”

“I’m in,” Sett cut in, eyeing you with almost palpable smugness.

“Awesome!” Taliyah replied, immediately shucking her apron and hat onto the floor in her haste to get out the door. “Have fun, see you after I win!”

“Taliyah!”

Your call of her name fell on deaf ears as she already had her board and was out the door, leaving you standing at the counter with Sett still leaning against the counter.

Sett reached up to pull his sunglasses off, tucking them into his packet, his golden eyes fully uncovered and sparkling with mischief, the sight alone making you feel weary.

“Well? You gonna invite me in?” he asked. “Not sure I’d fit through the window.”

You scrambled to meet him at the back door, not wanting him to try and get into the shop through the order window that was less wide than he was. It was a strange feeling to open the back door of the shop to a guy that was almost too tall for the doorway, and another thing entirely to try and corral him into behaving as you tried to keep the ice cream stand functioning while Taliyah was gone.

“Aren’t lifeguards supposed to set a good example for others?” you huffed, wiping ice from your apron. At least he hadn’t made things truly equal and put cherry syrup on the ball of shaved ice he had pressed against your neck.

“Not when I’m off the clock,” he answered. “Besides, it’s my once in a lifetime chance to see what workin’ one of these is like.”

It would definitely be only one time if you had anything to say about it. If the almost-hour with him here had taught you anything, it was that Sett was not cut out to work in an ice cream shop.

The scoops of ice cream he doled out were easily twice the size of the ones Taliyah did, which made for happy customers, but a less happy bottom line if he was here for more than an hour. He was also lacking Taliyah’s patience, and you were forced to sideline him when an especially picky middle-aged woman came by who insisted you remake her smoothie four times until it had an acceptable pH level. The woman’s complaints had miraculously stopped the moment Sett had approached the window himself, becoming so invested in flirting with the handsome lifeguard that she had snatched her next smoothie attempt from you without complaint, not even glancing your way as she batted her eyes at him, only leaving when he excused himself with an excuse of needing to make more orders.

You approached Sett to check on him and found yourself pulled down into his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

Huffing, he pulled you against him, nuzzling against your neck. “Don’t know how you deal with that. Couldn’t pay me to make her damn smoothie one more time.”

“You get used to it,” you replied. “Don’t you deal with worse as a lifeguard?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “But nothin’ sayin’ I gotta be nice when I deal with ‘em.”

“That’s true,” you laughed.

“If anyone complains, they can go somewhere else. Ain’t another beach within a hundred miles as well-run as this one,” he bragged, kissing at your neck.

As much as you were enjoying his sudden affection, you knew time was running low until Taliyah would return. You made to pull back to tell Sett that, but were instead pulled into a kiss that took you a few breathless moments to find the strength to escape.

“This Friday,” he murmured, face inches from yours. “There’s a party at the pool. You should come with me.”

You had heard about the exclusive pool parties on this beach from Taliyah, but hadn’t expected to ever get an invite. The pool, which was at the far end of the beach from the ice cream stand, was as exclusive as it got. Gated with walls so high that you couldn’t see in, it was the membership-only place to be for all of the elite in the beach town of Port Navori.

“Is that… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, and you didn’t really have an answer. “It’ll be fine. Come. Have some people I wanna introduce ya to.”

The door burst open at the same time as you nodded your agreement, revealing Taliyah clutching both her dripping board as well as a shiny blue ribbon.

“You won?” you asked, trying to disentangle yourself from Sett, who reluctantly let you up.

“Easily!” Taliyah gloated. “Nobody else stood a chance. So how were things here?”

“The money ain’t worth the drama of this place,” Sett griped.

Taliyah laughed. “Smoothie lady come back with a vengeance?”

“I’ll take kids buryin’ sunbathers up to their ears over this any day,” he replied with a grimace, standing up and stretching.

At his mention of ears, Taliyah had brought both hands up to her own head about where Sett’s were on his head, and you quickly waved at her to cut it out before he saw. Thankfully she did, but you could tell that you were going to get asked if you had pet his ears yet as soon as his fuzzy ears were out of earshot.

“I’ll text ya the time when I know it,” Sett said, giving you a quick kiss on the head and a two-fingered salute to Taliyah before heading out the back door.

“So?” Taliyah asked, pulling the chair up to the ice cream station after she had stashed her prize ribbon in her bag. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“I didn’t pet them,” you answered.

“It’s been over two weeks!” she complained. “Has he at least asked you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You shook your head. “He did invite me to a pool party with him on Friday at that fancy pool.”

“Really?” Taliyah responded, eyes wide. “You have to tell me what it’s like! I mean, I’ve seen satellite photos, but it’s not the same…”

“I’ll probably be too nervous to remember any of it,” you grumbled.

“This is your chance!” Taliyah encouraged. “By Friday it’ll be three weeks. You need to ask him if he sees you as his girlfriend or not.”

You reeled back, waves of anticipatory anxiety rolling over you. “I don’t want to scare him off. What if this is just casual to him and I’m too dumb to see it?”

“Then you’ll know,” she replied. “I know you. It’ll eat you up if you put this much energy into a guy without knowing how he feels about you. So ask. If he says no, then at least you’ll have an entire store’s worth of ice cream to drown yourself in after!”

Taliyah was right. She was always right. You knew that you couldn’t keep whatever this was up without knowing where you stood with him. The more time you spent with Sett, the more you wanted, and if he intended to keep things casual, you would rather know sooner so you could make an informed decision.

So that would be the plan then. Go to the party, have a good time (and get some photos of the pool for Taliyah) and then ask Sett about the state of your relationship. Sounded easy in theory. You could only hope you could muster up the courage to go through with the plan when the time came.

After hearing that the party was to start at four, Taliyah had gone all out, closing the stand at two so she could help you get ready to impress the snobs. You hadn’t put up too much of a fight, happy to have her help and her company, as your nerves only climbed higher the closer it got to four o’clock.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah said as she styled your hair. “You’ll only feel worse if you don’t get an answer from him. And with how good you’ll look at the party, he won’t be able to say no!”

“Thanks, Tali,” you replied gratefully. “I promise I’ll get you a bunch of photos of the pool. And whatever else you want.”

“What I want is for you to stay here for good,” she said. “So really I’m just doing myself a favor by helping you. This place has been a hundred times more bearable since you’ve been here, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Still,” you persisted. “I feel bad that you’re going to so much trouble. If you want anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taliyah dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You should get going, don’t wanna be late to the fancy pool party.”

She practically shoved you out the door, and then you were alone, walking down the mostly-empty sidewalk. As you walked along the street, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibilities. What would happen at the party? What would Sett say?

If he told you that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, what would you do? It was hard to have an answer for until you were in the moment, since a lot of it would depend on what Sett’s answer would be.

You walked through the parking lot, and then onto the beach, passing by kids building sandcastles and games of beach volleyball as you walked towards the end of the beach where the pool was. As you made your way to the fancier end of the beach, you began to notice the differences that marked the split between here and the side of the beach that you were usually on.

The shops on this side of the beach were much fancier, the sand littered with designer beach chairs and umbrellas. It was crazy just how different two ends of one beach could be.

The pool was noticeable from a great distance, or at least the wall white walls that surrounded it were. At least you weren’t going to get lost and miss the party entirely.

You approached the pristine white stairs that led from the beach up to the pool entrance, equal parts excited and apprehensive. The entrance was an open doorway, covered by a deep blue curtain and guarded by a muscled bouncer in white. The sight alone was intimidating; why hadn’t you just asked Sett to meet you beforehand?

You plastered a reluctant smile on your face before approaching the man. “Hi, I–”

“Name,” he interrupted, not looking up from his clipboard, sunglasses too dark for you to see his eyes.

Well it wasn’t like you hadn’t expected some level of standoffishness from the elite side of the beach. Keeping your smile up, you told him your name, waiting the prerequisite few moments for him to leaf through the list.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, as his hand with the clipboard went to his side and he moved over to the curtain, pulling it to one side to allow you to enter. He had said nothing further, but seemed to be staring in your direction, so you took that as your cue and walked towards the now-open entryway and into the pool.

The entryway led into a hallway with pristine white walls, soft lighting hanging overhead. You could begin to hear chatter as you got closer to the end of the hallway, exiting into an explosion of sight and sound.

The pool was huge, and there seemed to be an intricate gold pattern on the tiles at the bottom. The pool was surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas, tropical foliage bordering the inner walls around the pool.

There were people all over, in and out of the pool. There was also a bar in the center which seemed to be very popular, as many people were carrying around intricate-looking cocktails.

More than the scenery or the people, your eyes were scanning the area for Sett. You checked your phone again to make sure, finding that it was the time he had told you to be here for. Maybe he was just running late or…

Your rising concern was broken up by the tap of designer wedges on the granite heading your way. You looked up from your phone to see two girls heading towards you, one of which you realized you had seen before.

The stuck-up redhead that had been the reason you had been out on the beach to spill the snowball on Sett in the first place was striding towards you, not a hair out of place underneath her likely-expensive sun hat. At her side was a lilac-haired woman in a swimsuit with a plunging neckline that was color blocked with various shades of purple. Together they made quite a striking pair, but your previous encounter with the redhead had you wishing that Sett would get here soon to save you from the impending conversation.

“Look, Sarah,” the purple-haired one sneered as they came to a stop before you. “So eager to pretend she’s one of us that she rushed right over.”

You took a step back, but that only seemed to embolden them.

Sarah lowered her sunglasses, staring at you like you were in her way. “Sad when they don’t know their place, Syndra.”

“Sett invited me here,” you replied defensively.

The women exchanged a pointed look before Sarah raised an eyebrow at you, a hand on her hip. “You ever think about why that was?”

“What?” you replied, unsure of what she was getting at.

“She doesn’t get it,” Syndra said with a cruel undertone in her voice that unnerved you.

“Look around,” Sarah said sharply. “Really look. Do half the people here look like they belong?”

You looked around, not sure what you were supposed to be seeing. A man with a hook-nose sat at the pool bar, flanked by women in skimpy bikinis. A humanoid form that seemed to be made of water conversed poolside with a large purple man in a ratty straw hat who was holding a ukulele. What were you supposed to be noticing?

“Sett is too nice to break it to you, so the job falls to me,” Sarah said with a smirk. “This is our annual loser fest. Charity case race. Bring-a-freak-to-work-day.”

“Pig party,” Syndra supplied.

“Yeah, pig party,” Sarah repeated, noticing your confused look. “Don’t know what that is? Poor thing.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s pretty simple,” Sarah interrupted. “We take half the summer to find the biggest freak we can, and then we bring them all together and crown a winner, and by the looks of you, Sett is really going for the top prize.”

You gasped, eyes wide, suddenly feeling like you were going to be sick.

“Aw, you really thought he liked you, huh?” Syndra mocked with fake sweetness.

“He didn’t… he never…” you stammered, clutching your bag to your chest.

“Well duh,” Sarah replied haughtily. “He wanted to win. Do you tell a pig when it’s about to become bacon?”

“What is meaning of this?” Braum accused, storming up to your group. “I have not heard of such a thing!”

“Need-to-know, Braum,” Syndra dismissed.

“And you didn’t need to know,” Sarah added.

You felt numb. This whole time… is that why Sett wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend? Why he never did more than kiss you? All this time, he had just seen you as a prize pig for an ugly date contest? It all made sense now, why he had been so desperate to get your number. He had never liked you… it had all been one sick joke. You should’ve known; nobody as attractive as Sett would ever see you as anything but a freak. And was too cowardly to come and tell you the truth to your face.

“Look, she’s crying,” Syndra taunted. “Don’t cry! Soon you’ll be queen pig!”

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here with all these people who saw you as less than human as your heart was breaking into pieces. You were so, so stupid, now wanting nothing more than to cry in peace. So you did, turning and running as fast as your legs would take you out of this awful place.

“Bye, piggy! We’ll ship you the ribbon!”

You heard Braum shout your name, as well as the cruel laughter of the women, but you didn’t stop running. Not when you got to the beach, nor the parking lot or the tacky souvenir shop, the sayings on the gaudy shirts too blurry to read through your tears. Your feet didn’t stop until you were at the doorstep to Taliyah’s home, out of breath, tears running down your cheeks.

The door opened, Taliyah’s face appearing in the doorway. “Hey, did you forget– wait, what happened?”

“Settrigh, stay still!”

Sett frowned, but did as his momma requested, allowing her to tie the ends of his hair after she had finished arranging it. He loved his ma dearly, but he really didn’t have time for her to redo his hair ten times right now.

It was getting way too close to the start time he had given you, and with how nervous of a person you were, he had intended to be on time, but that was before his mother had discovered the reason why he was cutting their visit short today.

Ma was aware that he had been seeing someone, had been ever since Sett had needed help making food for their first date.

“You do intend to let me meet her, Settrigh?” she asked, stepping back once she had fixed his hair to her satisfaction.

“Yes, ma,” he answered, standing up from the chair.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by his momma’s eagerness, considering this was the first girl he had ever dated, let alone considered introducing to her. This world was shallow; he had learned that early in life, which may be why he found himself so drawn to a girl who had put her all into having nothing to do with him. You broke up the monotony in this busy beach town and gave him something to look forward to other than seeing his ma for the first time in a long time.

Sett knew he was working on a time limit. You had mentioned that you had planned on only visiting Port Navori for the summer, and the summer was half over already, which meant his chances to convince you to stay were also halved, which is where tonight came in.

He had been taking things slow, not wanting to come on too strong and scare you off like he had watched happen to many a beachfront pick-up artist. He had been unwilling to rush things and lose you, but the slip of the calendar into August had forced his hand.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit apprehensive as to how today would end. How would you take him asking you to be girlfriend? He could only hope that he hadn’t misread you entirely.

He didn’t go to the pool parties often, but it seemed like a good way for him to introduce you to his friends, as they didn’t often all gather outside of those parties. He knew you would likely feel out of place, but Braum would be there, and he intended to stick by your side the entire time. And then after the party, if things went well, then maybe he would end the night with you as his girlfriend, but the party would be the first step.

As he left his ma’s house, he found his mind turning to the party. If you were wearing that red swimsuit you had worn last week, then it was going to be a difficult night for his self-control. His desire to take things slow had really taken a hit then, his only saving grace being ma’s lecture on being a gentleman pounding in his head as he tried not to look at how your chest was half-busting out of your top as you leaned over to pick a thread off of his glove. You were really too hot for your own good, which made him all the more eager to see you.

He knew he was running late, the party having started at least ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t his style to be late, but he was also pretty helpless to defy his ma. He only hoped that you hadn’t given up on him and left.

He took the shortest route possible, which included a short trek through some bushes that left him more leafy than he would’ve liked, but it was all forgotten when he spotted the stairs that led up to the pool entrance.

He was able to bypass the doorman who was only half as big as he was and seemed to be wary of interacting with him, stepping out of the way as Sett approached. He pushed past the curtain, hurried steps heading down the hallway. You hadn’t been waiting outside, so clearly you had been able to get in. He tried to fight back the excited grin that wanted to take over his face, but it was a losing battle as he entered the pool area, eyes immediately scanning the area for you.

“Your cruelty is unimaginable!” Braum’s booming voice carried easily through the air. “That girl has done nothing to be deserving of such treatment!”

What had Braum so worked up? Generally he was an easy guy to get along with, easily Sett’s most tolerable co-lifeguard. Not much phased him, which was a little concerning. But Sett had other priorities, the most important being locating you.

You weren’t in the pool, and didn’t seem to be sitting in any of the chairs. Maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would be right back–

“Well how else was she supposed to know Sett is too good for her? She clearly wasn’t going to see reality without a little help.”

Sett’s ears perked up, his attention snagged by the mention of his name, but especially by the latter half of the sentence. He turned around to see Sarah Fortune with Syndra at her side, who had her arms crossed and looked bored. In front of them was Braum, looking more irate than Sett had ever seen him.

“What’s this about?” Sett asked in a warning tone as he approached, the fur of his ears standing on end, leaving him feeling like he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sarah dismissed, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. “We just showed a daydreaming little clout chaser the way out.”

Sett’s eyebrow rose. “A what?”

“Your ice cream girl,” Braum cut in. “These two have told her that this is a party for pigs. They have told her that you intend to bring her here to win ugly contest, and then she had run off.”

“What?” Sett growled dangerously, but the two women remained nonplussed.

“We did you a favor,” Syndra stressed. “If we get a reputation of letting just anyone in, then we’ll lose all status as members of the ruling class of the food chain. So we decided to throw this little pig party to make you come back to your senses.”

“You’re one of us, Sett,” Sarah added. “This pool doesn’t have room for little nobodies who don’t know their place.”

“Rather be a nobody than whatever the hell this is,” Sett snarled angrily, the full knowledge of the truth turning his bad feeling to a mix of simmering fury at the two women, and worry for you. He hated himself for being late and allowing this to happen to you. “Save your concern and don’t talk to me again.”

“But we were–” Syndra started, but Sett wasn’t in the mood.

“If you even look at her again, you’ll have me to deal with. And unlike that girl you just bullied outta here, I ain’t so nice.”

With that, Sett turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit to go do his best to fix this mess.

Braum quickly followed behind him. “My friend, I am sorry I could not stop them in time.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Sett replied. “Wish I’d have known. Gotta go see if she’ll even talk to me at this point.”

“I wish you luck,” Braum said as exited the hallway and emerged out into the sunny late afternoon.

Sett parted from Braum, taking the stairs two at a time as he surveyed the area, trying to see if he could catch sight of you. He quickly crossed the sand, making a beeline for the ice cream stand, even if it seemed like a longshot. He passed by a group of kids throwing sand on an older man sleeping on a towel, but ignored it and kept going. If anything was on fire, Braum could put it out. Sett’s sole focus right now was finding you and hoping you’d let him explain himself.

His chest felt heavy with anger and regret. How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t realized how cruel those women could be, and it had led to them making you believe he thought you were some freak he was using for convenience, which could not be farther from the truth.

Seeing those two talk about you like you were a pariah had brought him right back to when he was younger, to what he had endured at the hands of people just like Syndra and Sarah. People who had ostracized him, did their best to make him feel like he didn’t have a place here. Sett-the-beast-boy-bastard; the words had haunted him for a long time.

He had grown tough in response to the years of bullying, but you hadn’t. This was your first exposure to how awful this place could be. He and ma had dealt with it for years after pa ran off; he had nearly gotten expelled from school after a particularly bad fight with a kid that had made one too many nasty comments about his ma to his face.

Sett stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh as he saw the large closed sign on the front windows of the ice cream shop. So that was a bust. Without giving the store a second look, he continued on towards the rocks and then up to the parking lot.

There was only one other place to try. Chest tight, Sett followed the same path he had the night of your first date, the same path he took every time he walked you home. The walk there was one long blur, his feet unable to stop moving until the familiar house was in sight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett approached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. When no answer came, he tried again, and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal Taliyah, who glared once she caught sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her,” Sett said, urgency bleeding into his voice.

Taliyah sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you after this. You don’t deserve to talk to her if that’s how you let your friends treat her.”

“They ain’t my friends,” Sett argued. “If I’d have known they were gonna pull that shit–”

A sly smile lifted the corner of Taliyah’s lips. “Good answer. If you had said anything else, then I’d be slamming the door in your face right about now.”

“Then can I–”

“Talk to her?” Taliyah interrupted. “Nope. Not a good idea.”

Sett’s face must have taken on a darker quality, because Taliyah retreated back a step, raising her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Relax, tough guy. I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s a little too upset to talk to you right now.”

The information only made Sett feel worse. He wanted so badly to talk to you, to do what he had wanted to do before this mess had happened and make you his girlfriend. You had never felt farther away than you did right now.

“Give me some time to calm her down. I can get her to be at the pier at seven, then the rest is up to you,” she said, levelling him with a stern look. “I know this wasn’t your fault. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a chance. She really likes you, so try not to make her feel any worse than she already does. Bye.”

And then Taliyah was gone, retreating back into the house and leaving Sett standing on the doorstep.

“Brought you some water,” Taliyah announced as she entered the room, glass in hand.

“Who was at the door?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Someone looking for my dad. Told them he’s not here.”

You nodded. It was probably too much to hope that it would be Sett. You winced as you thought his name. You hated how much you wanted to see him, someone who had used you to win some popular kid ugly date contest.

So it had all been a lie then? All the things he had told you about his life, his family? Every time he had kissed you, was he picturing kissing one of those girls instead? Is this really what popular people did for fun? You felt stupid for falling for it, for falling for him. You were so stupid.

With some prompting from Taliyah, you took a sip of the water. After she had made sure you had drank the whole glass, she sat down next to you, taking the glass from you and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I should have known,” you croaked.

“Known that popular girls are bitchy? Maybe,” she responded.

“That it was too good to be true,” you corrected.

“You’re acting like you’re eighty,” she scolded. “There are other guys out there. Ones who don’t have shitty friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “But I really liked him. And I didn’t even get to pet his stupid fuzzy ears.”

“Well if you’re joking, then you must be doing okay,” she said. “How about we go do something to take your mind off of things?”

You frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Not right this second. I’ll give you until six-thirty to get yourself ready to go.”

Taliyah got up off the bed and headed towards the door. “I’m not gonna let your night be ruined because of a couple of snobs.”

She closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. You laid back on the bed, intent on taking some time before you got ready to just veg out. As much as the notion of going out didn’t excite you right now, it was probably better than being a mopey mess all night. There would be other guys; it was just a shame that you had liked this one so much.

Two hours later, you were walking down the street with Taliyah. Your getting ready to go had consisted of washing your face of all the smeared makeup from your crying, brushing your hair into a semi-decent state and then watching dumb cat videos on your phone until you felt like you didn’t want to crawl in a hole and die.

Taliyah had assured you that you didn’t look bad, which you might have believed if you hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror as you were leaving, but at this point you were beyond caring about how you looked right now.

Taliyah had refused to tell you where she was taking you, and so you were forced to follow her down the familiar path towards the beach, unsure of where it was you were being led. Part of you was worried that you might run into Sett, but then the more rational side of you took over; he was likely back at that pool, partying it up with those girls and lamenting that you had run off before he could win his ugly date prize. It was crazy to realize just how flawed your judgment had been.

You had expected to be walking onto the beach, as it was where you two usually spent most of your time, but Taliyah didn’t go to the parking lot, instead heading towards the rockier section of the beach. You hadn’t been over here before, only vaguely aware of the area as a prime fishing location, bait shops and the like lining the street across from this part of the beachfront.

She took you past the fishing spots, down to near the end of the beach, where there was a small pier that went about thirty feet out into the sea. Like most of the beach at this time on a weekday, the pier was empty, most of the fishermen also having headed out with their day’s catches.

Taliyah led you down the pier to the small bench at the end of it, pushing you to sit down. When she didn’t do the same, you looked up at her, confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m gonna go grab something to help cheer you up. You just enjoy the view for a bit.”

You decided to follow her advice, staring out at the water. There wasn’t much to see other than some boats in the far distance and some buoys bobbing in the water that marked the swimming section from the boating section.

It was kind of nice in a way, the calm waters helping you to relax as you watched the waves roll in and out. You stayed like that for a while as you allowed yourself to zone out until you began to wonder how much time had passed. Pulling out your phone, you saw that it had been almost twenty minutes, and yet there was no sign of Taliyah as you looked around.

You had assumed that she went to get you two some food, which likely was still the case. Some of the places here tended to have rather large dinnertime crowds, so a twenty minute plus wait wasn’t exactly unusual. You had no idea where she had gone, so all you could do was wait. If she wasn’t back by seven, you would just text her and ask what was up.

You let yourself be taken in again by the rolling waves as you continued to wait, trying to recall what kinds of restaurants there were on the beachfront. It couldn’t be that fish and chips place; Taliyah had spent a full half hour last week complaining about how stale their food was. Or the taco place, since it had been closed for renovations for the past week. You had been trying to think of a third option when your concentration was broken by someone taking a seat next to you on the bench.

You looked over, expecting to see Taliyah back with some food, but instead nearly jolted off of the bench when next to you was the very man you were out here trying to forget.

Just seeing him when you were feeling so pathetic sent a jolt of you weren’t sure what up your spine, your flight instincts screaming at you as you made to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

“I know you don’t wanna see my face right now,” Sett said. “But I can explain.”

“Explain what?” you replied meekly. “Those girls explained enough.”

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Just listen for a minute. Then you can leave, or punch me, whatever you want.”

You took a look around, still not seeing Taliyah anywhere. You weren’t sure what he could have to say that would make much of a difference, but you sat back down, and he let go of your wrist.

You turned reluctantly to face Sett, waiting for him to talk first.

“Never told ‘em to do somethin’ like that,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t even know about it ‘til I got there and you weren’t there.”

“But they said…” you started, taking a breath to keep yourself calm as you prepared to recount the hurtful words. “They said you were only spending time with me so you could win their whole ugly date contest.”

Sett’s eyes narrowed, the skin of his knuckles tightening on his curling fists. “First I’ve heard of it. Ain’t no way you’d ever place in an ugly contest anyways.”

His words threw you. “Wait, so you don’t think I’m ugly?”

He snorted, a grin playing at his lips. “Well I was plannin’ on askin’ you to be my girlfriend after the party, so nah, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“You–” you gasped, pulse skyrocketing. This was not how you expected this conversation to go. You were half convinced you were experiencing auditory hallucinations until Sett reached over, pulling you into his side.

“This is my fault,” he spoke lowly. “If I hadn’t been late, I’d have been there to stop that from happening.”

“What happened when you got there?” you asked quietly.

“Braum told me what happened, then those two tried tellin’ me they did it for my sake,” he growled. “I thought I was used to seein’ through bullies from how I grew up. Doesn’t matter now, they won’t be botherin’ you anymore unless they wanna find out why momma says I got her temper.”

“Why were you late anyways?” you asked.

He groaned, leaning his head back against the bench. Even with the sun mostly set, you could clearly see a pink tone to his cheeks.

“What is it?” you pressed, curious about why the intimidating lifeguard was suddenly being so shy.

He let out a long sigh, finally meeting your eyes. “Ma was doin’ my hair.”

You looked him over, realizing that his hair did seem to be tied differently today. The only thing that looked the same was his ears, just as fluffy as they always looked. You could almost hear Taliyah’s voice screaming in your head to pet them. Speaking of Taliyah…

“Taliyah!” you gasped, trying to extract yourself from Sett’s grip, but failing. If Taliyah was to come and see you here with the guy she had taken you out to forget about… “My friend, she’ll be back any second and–”

Sett laughed, and you were immediately left with the feeling that you were missing something.

“She ain’t comin’ back,” he said amusedly. “I’ve got you all to myself for the night… if that’s what you want.”

“Taliyah set me up?” you breathed, not having suspected a thing.

“I asked her to,” Sett explained. “Wasn’t about to let you go ‘cuz of some shallow assholes.”

Taliyah was much sneakier than you had given her credit for, you realized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now. Though that didn’t mean you weren’t hungry, your previous stress melting away and removing the only distraction from your empty stomach.

“So,” you hummed. “Are you still going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

You still had no idea what would happen by the end of the summer, but you really wanted this. You wanted him.

“Yeah, was plannin’ on it.”

You had thought about it all the way back to Sett’s house. Was it really for the best to go back to your city when the summer was over? Back to your parents’ house to find an equally demanding and unfulfilling job?

The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to stay. Taliyah was here, Sett was here, and other than your brief nasty encounter at the pool earlier, this summer had been the best one you’d had in a long time.

Sett seemed intent on giving you more reasons to stay as he was on you pretty much as soon as you entered his house. You had been standing in the entryway, looking at a picture of what must have been Sett and his mother when he caught you off guard, picking you up from behind.

You yelped, turning your head back to face him just in time for him to dart forward to snatch a kiss.

“You’ll have time to look around later,” he said as he walked down the hall, nudging a door open with his shoulder and then taking you into what looked to be his bedroom.

Once again, you were scarcely granted a look around before Sett had overtaken your attention yet again. You were swiftly carried over and deposited on the bed, Sett eagerly caging your body down against the sheets with his own.

“I wanted to go slow,” he said against your ear. “Didn’t wanna mess things up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you gasped as he snaked a hand under your dress, and then under your swimsuit bottoms. “I… I want…”

“This?” he inquired, thumb brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt against him with a breathy moan. “Waited a long time to hear that.”

Seeking more room to work, Sett pulled back to reach down and pull down your swimsuit bottoms, tossing them to the side. You watched with reddening cheeks as he returned his attention to you, head disappearing under your dress next.

His first lick against your pussy felt back-archingly good, but you didn’t have a lot of room to move with Sett’s hands holding your lower half in place. His tongue felt slightly rough, bringing pricks of pleasure-pain along its path.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried not to squirm, but it was difficult as Sett’s tongue prodded inside you before moving back to sucking at your clit. It felt good, almost too good, but you found yourself wanting more than his mouth against you.

“Sett,” you moaned. “Please…”

You weren’t sure if he got the message until you reached down to grasp at one of his hands. He pulled back from you, wiping one forearm against the wet lower half of his face as he sat back. His position on his knees on the bed allowed you a good look at the decently-sized bulge in the front of his tight swim shorts.

Sett caught your eyes, reaching one hand down to cup his cock through his shorts. “All you, sweetheart. Still think I think you’re ugly?”

You somehow managed to shake your head, speechless from his ardent display of his body. Sett seemed to bask in just how speechless he had made you, a sexy grin overtaking his face as he stared down at you.

“Couldn’t ask for more than this,” he said. “But if you want more…”

He was such a tease. With a burning face, you relented.

“Could you just put it in me please?” you asked, too shy to make eye contact.

“Can do,” he replied, and you could easily hear the smug satisfaction in his voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett stood up from the bed to pull his shorts off, wincing slightly when he pulled the tight fabric over his painfully-hard cock. Tossing the shorts to the floor, his attention quickly returned to you.

Giving his cock a few slow strokes, he watched you sit up on the bed. Feeling a burst in confidence from his display, you reached down to the hem of your dress’ skirt before pulling it up and off your body, Sett’s hungry gold eyes unable to look away from you as you moved onto your swimsuit top.

Once your top was off, Sett struck, pulling you towards him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he pulled you onto his lap, reaching around to your front to cup your breasts as his mouth went straight to your neck. His hands were warm against the sensitive skin of your breasts, rolling your nipples under his thumbs as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his hard cock under you and shifted yourself against it, Sett letting out a deep groan in response. You could feel how wet you were, but this wasn’t enough. You needed to fuck him, needed this building tension to come to a satisfying end for you both.

You turned in his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him. Sett was happy to meet tongues with you, one hand resting on your ass until you pulled back from the kiss.

You met eyes with Sett, who began to help you lift yourself up, lining up his cock with his other hand. When he brought you back down onto him, you both sighed as you were fully seated on his cock at last.

“Nothin’ else would feel as good as you,” Sett groaned as he began to help you move and up and then back down onto him. “Never wanted any girl as bad as I want you.”

You were much less coherent, moaning out his name as your hands grasped against his chest. With a further burst of confidence, you reached a hand up to his ear, running your fingers along the fur and enjoying the resulting groan, the next upward thrust of his hips hitting even better into you. Maybe you would leave this out at Taliyah’s interrogation later.

“There,” you moaned as he shifted you in his lap, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “Right there, Sett.”

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling you down into a rough kiss as he held you close, thrusting up into you as you eagerly moved along with him, needing to make this gorgeous man under you cum.

Sett came first, stilling for a moment before pulling you slightly back to put a finger to your clit, letting you cling to him as you followed him over the edge.

Once you had both come back down from the clouds, you were set back gently on the bed so Sett could run off to grab a cloth to clean you up with. You watched him leave the room, still having a hard time comprehending just how you had ended up this situation.

You definitely had some phone calls to make tomorrow. Your parents would be surprised, but you would probably focus on the Taliyah part rather than the new boyfriend part of your reasoning. Taliyah would be overjoyed for sure; you’d have to thank her for her meddling when you saw her.

As Sett returned, you realized something.

“Wait, is your mom home?” you asked in horror. You hadn’t made any effort to be quiet during sex, forgetting about his mother until he re-entered the room.

Sett laughed at your mortified face. “I don’t live with ma, so no.”

“Oh god,” you breathed in relief. “I was worried I was too…”

“She ain’t here,” he replied as he joined you on the bed, handing you the cloth he had grabbed. “You can be as loud as you want.”

You dropped the cloth, burying your head in your hands, Sett’s amused laughter ringing in your ears as you tried to content with just what you had signed yourself up for.

#xreader #readerinsert #league of legends #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #league of legends sett #sett #pool party sett #sett x reader #smut #pool party sett x reader

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simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

the ukiyo standalone;

park jisung x reader

Jisung is everyone’s joy and prized possession. Being the youngest of his friend group and with his child-like nature, he’s certainly the one that everyone favours. He’s adorable, innocent, pure. You would think he’s well known in college but in actuality, he’s pretty hidden, living his life in the shadow of his friends. He didn’t mind it really. He didn’t need to feel the crowd prying their eyes into his business like his friends, which was why he actually isn’t seen with them often in the first place, he didn’t need to stand out.

genre. fluff, angst, emotional, heart warming aNd heart breaking

word count. 20k~

description. In this current fast pace world, there was never really a time I could take a break. I did choose this path as a lawyer major knowing I would be drowning myself with papers every single night and pulling all-nighters for an inhumane number of days. As much as I want or even need to rest, I never could. This was the path I’ve chosen. And my pride was too high to let myself stop the grind. That is until I made a mistake of calling an unknown number who belonged to a guy named Jisung at the campus library. I thought he was a waste of time till I realised he showed me to slow down, not having to force my body to move with the world’s speed, to be my ukiyo; my floating world.

!as they should masterlist!

Jisung liked doing social experiments. It was practically his side hobby, something he’d do when there wasn’t anything important on his to-do list. He was simply interested at how the students at his campus would react upon weird occurrences around them. It got students talking whenever he did something, the fact that they didn’t know it was his doing is one of the reasons why he does it in the first place.

On this particular night, where Jisung was staring out of his window from his study table that was directly in front of it, giving the clearest view of the stars and especially the bright moon that reflected its light through his cracked open window and onto his study table, he was wondering about what to do next. What would get people to feel weirded out. What would get them to react a certain way.

When an idea came to mind, the light bulb hovering over his head switched on, the gears began to turn. It wasn’t the most brilliant idea, but it could go both ways. Either the students don’t bother even taking in their surroundings to notice it, or suffer the loss of not getting help. Jisung’s a dance major but he liked doing these projects for the fun of it so might as well. Jisung peeled off a random piece of sticky note from the stack with his other stationeries. Clicking his pen, he immediately went to writing.

When times you aren’t feeling fine, just call this number. I’ll try to be available 24/7.

Jisung frowned slightly and tilted his head. If he were to paste his numbers all over the school, he would probably be bombarded with calls every two seconds. It also didn’t make sense for him to be available 24/7. Clearly that was impossible. His frown deepened. He thought for a long moment, trying to phrase a sentence that was more suitable for what he wanted to do. With a smack of his lips and an unsure hiss, he grabbed a new sticky note and started again.

Glad you came to notice this note laying wherever you are in the library. Feeling stressed? Need someone to talk to? Simply need a friend? My number’s below. You don’t have to know who I am. I’m just here to help you out, mentally I guess. I’m available from 1PM-3AM. Call whenever you feel the need to. Have a nice day :D (don’t worry I’m not some stalker or whatever i’m just a bored student here)

Jisung clicked his pen against the table to close it, his eyes scanning over his words, which might he add was beautifully written, like calligraphy. Jisung couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that thought. He threw the pen off to the side and went to his printer with the sticky note, now moving on to making copies. He wanted to copy a reasonable number, not too little till no one noticed or too many till it was extremely obvious, but well enough for him to get at least a small chance of getting a response. With a number in mind, he began printing.

The next day, he went for his lecture in the morning. He preferred having the morning lectures just so he could spend the rest of his day doing whatever. And on today’s agenda was the pasting of his notes. With the weight of his bag pulling his shoulders and back down, he wished he could go back to the dorms right now and start of his assignment but he wanted to settle this first.

He entered the library. It wasn’t too crowded. Students were fairly spaced apart from each other in the study area, sparse. Some students were at shelves. With his hands still shoved into the pockets of his black Adidas jacket, he make his way over to a random study table. He needed to do this quick to avoid suspicion. But why would students notice anyway? They had their heads digged into whatever work that was incomplete.

Jisung slowed himself down and took out the a note from the small file he had in his bag along woth a large clear tape role. He had to put his bag down, searching for the scissors. He cut a reasonable amount of tape after placing the note in the bottom right corner and placed it over top, sealing the note onto the table. Jisung back away for a moment, taking a long look at it. It was small, but still noticeable. With a satisfied shrug, he went on to do the same for some other tables, even going to bookshelves and randomly pasting them anywhere he wished.

What he didn’t know, was that he was being watch.

I had my brain wrapped around this essay for who knows how long now. Hours, days. Having to redo my research for the fith time was about to have my head spinning till it lolled, out of energy and brain power to hold up. I stared down at the notes scattered all over. The table was a huge mess, loosing track of how many pages I’ve flipped and how many articles I read online, as well as time of course. I sighed quietly, leaning back and closing my eyes, wanting to rest them for a brief moment.

When my eyelids opened back, I couldn’t help but notice the person that had been hovering around the study tables for far too long. It was distracting, watching him move from table to table at the corner of my eye. And though my attention had been on my papers, he was still to be seen in my peripheral vision. I blinked my eyes rapidly and shook my head, refusing to let a small matter tick me off to the point where I wasn’t able to do my work.

I straightened my back and adjusted my shoulders. Closing back my eyes, I took in a deep breath, chest puffing up as I gave myself a determined nod. I shot my eyes back open and with full exhilaration running through my veins, I got back to work, shutting the world out so it was just me and my work, wanting to get it done and over with.

Again I lost track of time, but in a much more productive way than how I was in the morning. I didn’t have classes today, making full use of my free time on my work. I pressed the final key on my keyboard, ending my essay with an exhale of satisfaction. I leaned back into the seat, throwing my head back till it went past the backrest. I placed my hands on the arms of the chair, and it was then did I realise that the library was extremely quiet.

I took in my surroundings, slow scanninv my eyes over the library. It was already dark, some areas pitch black while other were visible with the help of the moonlight shining through the windows. It was only the light at my study table that illuminated the area around with a orange hue. I didn’t mind being the inly one here, but sometimes it felt eerily quiet, like tonight. I grabbed my phone that was shoved into my bag. Lifting it up in front of me, the lockscreen showed itself, as well as the ungodly hour blaring at me.

“Three in the morning? How did I even...” I tilted my head slowly in awe, surpised at just how time flew by when I was immersed in completing my assignment. I read through my essay, having to close my eyes halfway due to how bright the screen of my laptop was. I was scanning through the first paragraph when I immediately went to shut down, already too tired to have one last scan through and making the mental decision of doing it tomorrow.

I packed up immediately, the thought of my bed and sleeping now being the number one priority. I shoved all my things in my tote bag, slinging it on my right shoulder. I was already taking off, a mere few steps away from the exit when I saw something shining at the corner of my eye. I stopped and turned on my heel to the study table. Slowly, my eyes trailed to the bottom right corner where the source of my pause came from. Turned out it was simply the light reflected of a tape. But upon further inspection, I went closer noticing it wasn’t just tape, but a note.

I read it over, having to brush some strands of hair behind my ear that was annoyingly covering the note. I quirked an eyebrow in a questioning manner, leaning back to my standing form once I was done reading, yet my eyes were glued to the impressively written note. “Who gives out their number just like that?” I couldn’t help but wonder under my breath. Too tired to even register any more information, I let this weird occurrence slid out of my mind, continuing to make my way out of the library and back to my dorm where I instantly fell asleep with no second thoughts.

The next day I got up, the light shining through the small holes of my curtain blinding me awake. I searched for my phone under my pillow, plugging out its charger while I scrolled through my social media, specifically Twitter. The first thing that popped up on my timeline was a tweet from the campus’s very own account. No one knows who it was made by, but you can bet that whoever they are has their eyes everywhere around the school, tweeting about the latest gossips or news around campus grounds. Today’s one sparked a memory from last night.

Someone’s at it again stirring up the attention of our students by having their number out in the open for everyone to see in our library. Was there more to it than just wanting to offer help through call service?

I scoffed, glancing away for a moment before retrieving my gaze back to my phone. “Do they actually want people calling them?” I asked myself while scrolling my thumb up to look at the other tweets below. It did come to my attention that night, now picturing the note in my mind. I didn’t remember the number, but it was there, and something about it was drawing the curiosity in me to find out more. With a grunt I shot myself out of bed, getting ready to head to the library again to study.

I hadn’t expected how much time would pass by just from me studying. I’ve been in the library for almost a full day. I was being sent on an emotional roller coaster ride. Some hours being a breeze as I studied the easiest topics, while others had me wanting to rip my hair off my scalp from trying to shove all the information in my brain when it felt like it was at its full capacity. I wasn’t myself today. I kept looking at my phone that was a distraction, which was something I never did at all while studying. I was off the edge.

With exams coming up in a month’s time, I knew I was studying too much too early. But I always had to stick to my life motto. “Get it done and over with.” I muttered to myself. But tonight, at one in the morning, my body and mind couldn’t register any more information. I couldn’t. I was tired, exhausted. Drained. The stress came barreling in full force and I hated how I was making myself feel this way by always being on edge and doing things too fast to keep up with everything else in life.

Wanting to clear my head, I began gathering some of my notes, stacking them up to the clean the table that was in a huge mess. My eyes have grown used to this sight, but I was simply cleaning for the sake of procrastinating and putting off the desire to complete aoother topic. When I was done cleaning one section of the table, something struck my attention. I looked to the bottom right corner of the table. And there it was. The note that’s been in the hidden folds of my mind when I pushed them back to focus on studying.

My eyes went from left to right, specifically at the number since I’ve remembered the note unusually vividly. “Should I?” I whispered. I looked around, no one was to be seen. Weird, since I’d usually see at least one student here despite the late hour. I exhaled softly, letting the cold air that circulated around me in the night cool my skin while I picked up my phone from the table and keyed in the number. I wasn’t thinking about what I was getting myself into. At this point, I was already overloaded with my studies that I was malfunctioning, clearly not thinking straight.

I placed the phone up to my ear, leaning forward and letting my upper body rest against the table while I placed my chin in the palm of my free hand. The ringing went on for five times, and I was about to hang up when I heard the sound of the phone being picked up. “Hey. Who’s this?” It was a guy. Could it be the one that I saw lurking around that day? I gulped and cleared my throat, opening my mouth and letting out an “Uh..” while trying to figure out what to say. “Your number is here. One the study table at the library.” I simply said, wondering what he’ll respond with.

Sudden shuffles could be heard. It went on for a brief moment till he exclaimed, “Oh! Right, right. Hey! I’m at your service, what do you need?” His voice sounded dry and coarse, like he had forgotten to drink water before he slept. Was he sleeping and picked up while he’s half asleep? I ran a hand through my hair, adjusting to get comfortable. “A listening ear. That’s all I need.” I murmured through the speaker. I had to let it all out. And it came to the point where I’d rather actually talk to a stranger about my problems than anyone I knew. But that’s how we all are nowadays, right? Too self conscious and simply wanting to put on an act for the whole world.

“Go on. I’m all ears.” He replied back, sounding attentive and somewhat interested. I didn’t want to think much of it. He was clearly like this to everyone else who called for “his service”. Being receptive and responsive. Kind and willing. That’s what he sounded like. The first person to actually say something that felt like all those things at once, to me.

“Do...” I trailed off, shaking my head and wondering what I even wanted to say in the first place. I smacked my lips. “Don’t you just feel tired? Of like the whole world. Everything and everyone around you. You’re tired physically and emotionally.” He hummed in response. “Of course I do. A lot of people feel that.” I scoffed softly, biting my bottom lip. “Yes but, the other thing that’s making me tired... is myself. I have this habit of just overloading my brain with lots of things. It feel as if I’m making myself stress on purpose.” I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly as the words left my lips.

“I always wanted to the best I could be. And that led to me just grinding and grindinv everyday with no end. I barely get to sleep, and even if I did. I’ll wake up and the whole cycle will repeat itself. I fucking hate that I’m in this loop. But I chose to be here. I can’t break out.” My voice began to crack. It took me awhile to realise that I was crying till my tears fell on the papers and made its mark by crinkling the paper while it soaked up my tears. I blotched them off my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Hey, if-”

“And don’t.” I cut him off instantly before he could even utter another word. “Don’t tell me other people are going through the same thing.” I shut my eyes close, heaving a slow and heavy sigh. “I know. Everyone in my major goes through the same process. I’m weak. Even though I try to act like I’m the best student. My tolerance level can go down the drain for all I care.” I paused for a moment, mentally telling himt to resume whatever he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t read my mind.

But from the pause he knew what it meant and picked it up quickly, clearing his throat. “I was about to say if you want to cry, you can. I can tell that you’re holding it in and I don’t even need to see you.” I sniffled, the feeling of wanting to burst into tears again came about, rising in my body and making my chest clench. “It’s okay.” As if on cue, I screamed, cried, poured it all out. I threw my phone down, the call still on as I wailed into my palms, pressing my face against them. I’ve never had such a breakdown in months, simply shoving it to the back of my mind and kept ignoring it till it came out like this. A full blown terror.

I wanted to talk, yet my mouth couldn’t form any words. All that came out were sniffles as I calmed myself down. “I don’t really have much to say on this. And you probably don’t even want to hear me talk but you should take a break. Really. Just one day. You need it. Because you seriously don’t sound okay.” I couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, a very weak and effortless one. “I never thought of that, Captain Obvious.” I rolled my eyes, a smile cracking through for a brief moment.

He chuckle on the other end of the line. “You thought of it but didn’t put it into action.” He stated, sounding slightly firm. “Yes.” I admitted dryly. A few beats of silence passed, I could hear his breathing, calm and soothing. “I think I should, um, go now?” It was suppose to be a statement but due to me trying to recover from my mess, it came out as a question. I could hear him licking his lips. “Yes of course. Oh and hey.” “Yeah?”

“Do you need help with that rest day of yours?” I didn’t reply, giving it a long throught. “I probably won’t even be doing it.” I said through a sigh, beginning to pack up my things to head out of the library. “But you should. Actually, you will. I want to make sure of it.” I couldn’t help but furrow my eyebrows at his unexpected tone of determination. “Don’t you have other people to attend to for your call service?” I questioned.

“You’re actually the first one.” I could tell he was feeling rather embarrassed, letting out a tight laugh after his statement. “And I don’t even know who you are.” I was now walking out of the library, phone still to the ear while I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder. “For starters, I’m a dance major. I’d like to mostly keep my identity hidden for now. Unless you want to meet.”

I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly, somewhat in disbelief. “You want to meet?” I echoed his question back to him, head tilted mere degrees to the side. “Well I have to make sure you have that rest day of yours. How can I when I don’t meet you?” I chuckled softly, the corner of my lips perking up. “I’ll think about it. At least I have your number now.”

“Always at your service, miss. Have a good night.”

With that, the call ended. I didn’t realisd just how much time passed by simply talking to him. It went by so fast. It was already getting pretty late by the time I checked my phone for the time. I made my way back to the dorm, the cold breeze of the night kissing my skin gently and blowing strands of hair into my face that I had to brush off. I looked up to the sky, for once the world was quiet, at rest, and just for these few hours, I had always admired how I could breathe the freedom of mere minutes while I went to the dorm.

Yet, while admiring the ink black sky, the conversation I had with the call service guy resonated in my head, I laughed at how weird it was, pouring all that I’ve bottled up till now to someone who was of no significance to me. He probably won’t even remember we had this conversation, only passing it on as his first service call. He was also only doing his job, simply being there for me to talk. Why was I even taking this seriously? I could never rest. I could never take a break. I always had moments like these to treasure at heart before I awaken to everything going full speed yet again.

I walked to the lecture hall, watching students happily walking on campus with their friends with the sky a mix of blue and white. It was a regular day. Hopefully, if I didn’t have any assignment and I could focus on studying.

Just then, a whole ton of screaming could be heard, but it was muffled and drowned out due to how far I was from the source. But it sounded horrendous. As if a boy band had just entered the campus and send billions of fangirls to their way. I wanted to continue walking but the squeals of excitement got louder and closer to me. I turned my head to the back. “Ah... why didn’t I think about that?”

There’s the group of guys again. Too popular for their own good. Everyone was shouting their names, swooning over each one of them. I wonder how they didn’t find having to deal with that annoying. Or perhaps it was just an act. I backed away from the hallway to watch them strut by casually, the group of girls following closely behind. But just then, for a brief moment, a guy wearing a black adidas jacket walked past me, mutttering “I really shouldn’t have followed you guys today.” He rolled his eyes and went out of sight. I turned my head to the right, where I could now see his back. He looked petite yet lean, with orange hair of a natural tone, the under part of it being black. What stood out to me the most was his adidas jacket. Wasn’t that the one from the library?

“Do you guys actually go through that every single day?” Jisung groaned out finally taking a breath of fresh air as they entered the room, feeling as if he got swallowed by all the attention throughout their trip to the playroom. Mark picked up a basketball from the side and began bouncing it casually to the couch where the rest were getting settled. “Today’s especially crazy because it’s our group’s anniversary.” Jisung gave an unimpressed look. “Do you think I don’t know that?” He shrugged in a blasé, god-could-care sort of way.

“How’s your call service thing going? We know it’s was your doing. My timeline’s blowing up about it this whole time.” Jeno questioned. Jisung sat at the corner of the couch. placing his forearm on the armrest and leaning his body to it. “Funny how it’s all girls and they all talked about how they couldn’t get you guys to notice them. It always had something to do with one of you.” Jisung laughed carelessly, remembering back the calls he’d been receiving throughout today. Jisung tried his best to suppress his laughter to not sound rude. Even if Jisung found it ridiculous, he wasn’t in the place to say anything about it. His call service was meant for him to console the people who called, no matter the situation he was being told.

However, another thought that came to focus was the call that he specifically had late in the night. It was his first call. And whoever that girl was, she certainly made an impression on Jisung. How she was letting it all out, being free enough to tell someone like him about such deep feelings. It was raw and transparent. The conversation never left his mind. Jisung zinged back to attention when he heard Haechan scoff loudly. He turned to him, seeing him leaned back, shoulders and back relaxed and cool while he had his weight placed on his leg and his arms folded. He then clicked his tongue and said, “Not surprised.” nonchalantly, clearly showing that he was already used to the large amount of girls swooning over him through his voice.

“So are you guys free tonight? We could take a break and hang out.” Everyone nodded their heads followed by hums filling the room signaling that everyone agreed, except for Jisung. “Jisung, you in?” Renjun asked. Jisung took in a deep breath, glancing sideways and giving it a thought. He slowly shook his head. “Why? Are you busy?” Chenle asked quizzically. “Have an assignment.” Jisung blurted out, though he had other reasons.

The rest planned to head out together after spending time in the playroom. Jisung was left in his dorm, pacing back and forth from one end of his room to the other, eyes looking to his phone each time to turned. What was he waiting for? He wanted to ask himself, as if he didn’t already knew the answer. He was so drawn in to her. The way she spoke, the honesty in her voice. It’s as if he didn’t even need to look at her to know how she was moving and what she was doing.

Jisung scratched his head furiously and on the edge of his bed heavily, grabbing his phone and letting it sit in hand loosely. “She wouldn’t call again, would she? But I did imply that she could meet me if she wanted to. She might not even call again.” Jisung muttered to himself constantly, hopping from one possibility to another, raising his hopes up and bringing them back down. Jisung groaned loudly in frustration.

“Why am I even...” Jisung threw his phone to his bed and stood up again with a grunt, wanting to resume his assignment that was almost finished. All it took was one call to have him this tangled and have his mind wrapped around a simple phone call. Worst part is he didn’t even knew if he could ever see her. He could only depend on his chances and luck that she’d want to contact him again.

This time I decided to study in my dorm, too lazy to go down to the library. It wasn’t the best environment to study. My bed was literally mere inches away from my study table, constantly wanting to pull me into throwing myself on it and shut out each time I looked at it. It was a bad decision to have my room planned out like that, but I was too lazy to move it. I tapped the end of my pen against the table rapidly, my mind going black as I simply stared at a random spot on the wall. I wasn’t having the adrenaline to do my work today. I was simply doing it for the sake of doing it, not having a clear goal.

I turned to my phone, being a remembrance of my call with the service guy. I had thought about it the whole day, whether I should give him a call. But I was overthinking it. What if he’s busy? What if he had other people’s call to deal with? All sorts of questions popped up, but after giving it a long thought, I flipped my phone screen faced down harshly, shaking my head vigorously and tensing my hands on my scalp.

“Concentrate.” I stated out boldly to myself right smack in the face. I repeated the same word as I got ready to resume my studying. I couldn’t be thinking about a mere call. It was just a call. One time I let out my now spilled out feelings. I was empty now, so there shouldn’t be a need for another call. I could continue what I always did.

Jisung’s friends had been realising how he’s been zoning out more often than usual. And he wasn’t as outwardly as he had always been. They pampered him a lot and treated him like their own child. But there was something that made Jisung feel different around them. Jaemin nudged Jisung in the elbow, making him jolt to sit up right in shock and shooting his head to Jaemin. “Huh?” Jisung let out.

“Have you been okay lately? You seem to have something on your mind often.” Jaemin asked, his eyes scanning the room and seeing the rest of their friends minding their own businesses. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. “You sure?” Jisung puffed up his cheeks and let the air out through a sigh. “You know my call service?” Jisung began, he knew Jaemin would recognise the slightest change in Jisung’s behaviour. Everyone did, that was how much they cared about him. But Jaemin was the first one to bring it up so might as well. Everyone will know eventually.

Jaemin hummed in response. “My first call. It was very late into the night when. It’s a girl. And hers, was different than the rest I’ve received. As she talked, I felt that she was hiding nothing from me. That she was letting it all out for me to hear, not caring about who I was.” Jisung whispered. “I felt her desperation, her cries of help. Though she said she’ll manage it somehow, I got the feeling that she wouldn’t be able to. That she’ll crumble the more she continued.” Jaemin nodded his head slowly, processing Jisung’s words. “And so?”

“I mentioned to her that if she ever needed a call, she could do so. Or better if we meet. But she never called. And I don’t know who she is, which is what’s been on my mind. The frustration that she made such an impact yet I haven’t found out who she is.” Jaemin puckered his lips and looked upwards thoughtfully. “Did she mention anything about herself? Her major, or anything?” Jisung recalled their conversation that was etched in his mind. Jisung frowned and shook his head.

“What time did she call?” “One or two in the morning?” Jaemin gasped in disgust. “Who the hell-”

“Law and psychology students.” Jeno suddenly came into the conversation seamlessly and casually. Jisung leaned back and raised brows. “Really?” Jisung asked. Jeno scoffed and nodded. “They have tons of shit to study. From what Jaehyun tells me, they’re always staying up super late going through papers.” Jeno imitated a gag and a shiver in objection. “I could never.” He added.

“There’s so many students in those majors. How am I going to find her?” Jeno arched a questioning brow. “Find who?” Jisung sighed and motioned a hand to Jeno while looking at Jaemin, raising his brows for a moment. Jaemin waved a hand at Jeno when Jisung dropped his hand on his lap. “I’ll tell you guys later.” With that, Jeno shrugged mindlessly and went off. Jaemin adverted his attention back to Jisung, who looked even more discouraged than before.

“My poor baby. Listen, I’m sure you made an impression just like how she did on you. If she doesn’t call again, who knows. She might try finding you instead of giving you a call. Or you can just pray and gamble your luck. If you want, I’ll help you find her. You know my connections always come in handy.” Jaemin flashed a reassuring smile that Jisung didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, though it was smaller. “I’ll figure something out.” Jisung muttered, clicking his tongue.

I didn’t want to do this at first, but it kept bugging me the whole day, as if it was something that just had to be done by occupying my mind for almost the whole day. I walked out of the lecture hall, head scanning across the campus with my eyes wide open and attentive to find him.

From what I remembered, he said he was a performing arts major. And the only person I knew in that major was the one and only Ten, who I always saw lurking around the cafés on campus while I made my way back to the dorm. Luckily, I saw him sitting on a bench outside one of the cafés, munching on something while he played his phone. I instantly ran up to him, feeling a sense of hope rising while I accidentally poked Ten in the arm too hard to get his attention, causing him to wince. He looked up and recognised me, instantly flashing a welcoming smile.

“Oh, hey!” Ten shouted, his eyes forming a thin line while he waved at me with his chocolate croissant in hand. “Can I ask something briefly and perhaps even do me a favour?” I asked, slow and nervous with uncertainty. Ten raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Mm sure.” He simply replied. I exhaled and looked him in the eye. “I’m assuming you’re having your break now. Would it be possible for you to take me to your practice room? I know it’s random but I have something I need to check.”

Ten didn’t reply for a long minute, probably wondering why such a vague request came out from someone who would most likely have her time occupied almost 24/7. After waiting in anticipation, he finally shrugged and rose from the bench with a grunt. He proceeded to stretch his back, turning side to side and sighing in satisfaction. “Alright. I can take you there now.” With that, he went forward down the hall, walking as if leaving me behind. I stared at his back for a moment before quickly moving up to meet his pace.

We didn’t talk on the way there. Luckily I didn’t have to worry about us being awkward since the walk from the cafés to the practice room was only a few minutes. I was looking around when I almost bumped into Ten due to his sudden stop of motion and turning to face a door. I peeked inside and I could already see the full wall mirror that I saw dancers usually use. I turned to Ten, who jerked his head to the door, motioning me to open and enter the room.

The moment I placed my hand on the door handle, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness in me, wondering if I would even find him since I have zero idea on how he looked like. The only evidence I had was the fact that I saw someone wearing an adidas jacket who I assumed to be the one I was looking for. But that was such an unreliable assumption that I knew I couldn’t fully trust, but still try to find a way to use it to my advantage either way.

I pushed the door open, instantly bombarded with hard stomps coming from the people dancing. I felt the floor shake tremendously from the intimidating impact that created. The music was blasting from the speaker in front of them, along with a bottle which I assumed to be marked as the center of the stage. I watched silently, feeling Ten’s presence behind. With a glance over my shoulder, I could tell he was eyeing the performance with much concentration and intensity, eyes squinting as if analysing each and every one of their movements to a T.

I brought my focus back on them. It didn’t take my eyes long for it to focus on one person. The adidas jacket guy. One guy was wearing it. He was also wearing a black cap, blonde hair poking out from the bottom. His figure was small yet attractively lean. I couldn’t see his face at all. Yet, I was so drawn to him. Not just because he could’ve been the one I was looking for, but the fact that his dance was engaging, and nothing compared to the rest.

They got to a moment where everyone exited and it was just him alone in the center of the room while others waited by the sidelines. My mouth gaped open slightly, watching him go. His movements are seemingly perfect, every part of his body moving fluidly like water yet intricate and hard hitting. It was impactful, loud. He stood out, and I could picture the whole room going dark with a single light shining on him, and only him. I could tell he was expressing himself and giving his all. I didn’t need to have background knowledge on dance to see that in him.

The dance lasted for about five minutes, and I had my eyes locked on Adidas Jacket guy the whole time, too immersed to the point where I didn’t even feel Ten poking my shoulder. “_____?” He called out, making me blink my eyes rapidly upon hearing his voice and turning my head around. “Yeah?” Ten ruffled his hair. “They’re done. You can check whatever you need to check now.” I let out a soft, “Um...” while turning my head back to the front, eyes glazing over the room and looking for Adidas Jacket. I stood there frozen, not exactly sure what I even wanted to do in the first place.

I turned around fully to face Ten, adjusting my tote bag. “Actually, I think I’m good. I’ll go now. See you around?” It was more of a greeting than a question. But either way, Ten downshifted his head and moved his body out of my way to the door. “You too. Come more often if you’d like.” Ten smiled kindly. I simply reciprocated back the smile and walked out, not saying anything about Ten’s last comment.

At the dorm, I had my arms and legs spread out while I laid on my bed, blankly staring at the plain white ceiling while I tried to connect the dots, or even just simply having everything laid and mapped out in my mind. How was I even sure that could be him? His physique seemed to be similar from what I remembered, the jacket was another clue too. But how could I confirm it? I have yet to check the time the moment I came back, and I already knew hours had gone by.

“Who even are you?” I asked to the ceiling, directing it to the mysterious call service guy who had my mind hung up in him and having my busy life off balance.

“Who are you?” Jisung questioned silently, though it was loud enough that Renjun had to peek his head over the bunk bed to look at Jisung who was below. “What are you talking about?” Renjun asked. Jisung turned his head to the side, showing Renjun his side profile and closing his eyes with a quiet sigh. “It’s nothing.” Renjun shrugged and headed back to sleep.

Jisung had his mind on her the entire time, who could she be, how he could find her, and even where to start? He knew nothing about her. And that’s the thing. He didn’t know exactly what was making him think about her so much, it was just their call in general. He had zero information on her. And if what Jeno said was true, then he was probably thinking about going through such extend with his idea to get even a glimpse of her.

That very day once he ended his dance practice which was around evening with the sun beginning to shine brightly, he went to the library. What was his plan exactly? He wanted to wait in the library till he could find her. But how would he even know? He didn’t even know why he was doing this in the first place. He was simply placing his bet on faith and praying that the hours he was about to spend in the most dreadful place ever would not go to waste.

Not knowing what to do, he ended up huddled in a corner of the library, using the bookshelves on both sides of him to lean back and rest his head. He hated being in libraries, he hated anything to do with academics, which was why he chose to pursue his passion for dance. Though there was still dance theory, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. But being surrounded by books that offered him no information he wanted to know about had him feeling dizzy and bored to death.

He checked the time on his phone, eyes widening at how late it was. He felt his stomach squeezing, a low grumble coming from it while desperately asking for food to enter his system. He face suddenly lit up, remembering how he had leftover bread from the bread store he dropped by during his break. He instantly took it out and ate, watching the sun come down through the windows and turning the sky from blazing red to ink black, welcoming the night with the moonlight shining in.

He has yet to notice anyone that caught his eye. He started to think that he could have possibly missed his chance. What if she was here but left when Jisung had his guard down? What if she wasn’t even here to begin with? Should he just leave and not waste more time? Jisung was desperately holding onto his last string of hope, that was already fraying and could snap in a matter of seconds. Too tired of staying in one place, he decided to take a walk around the library.

Jisung went to the study area, the spot where he stood from gave him a clear view of everyone in their seats. Fair enough, there were students who looked like they were about to stay the whole night here, which made Jisung sniffled in disgust. How could anyone even put up with that much studying?

He was roaming and scanning his eyes lazily over the books tucked neatly and tightly on the shelves, taking long strides while he walked. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his hand. He brought it up in front of him, seeing an unknown number displayed. Picking up the call, and he greeted, “Hey! Always at your service. What do you need?” in the most cheerful way he could put out. Though the exaggerated sigh he let out while picking up the call might’ve been heard from the other end.

“Um hey. I don’t think you remembered me but I’m the first one to call. You know uh, stressed out girl? Need a rest day girl?” Jisung widened his eyes at the realisation. It was her. “Uh...” He stammered, quickly bringing his phone down to take a screenshot of her number before placing it back on his ear. “Hey! How have you been? Glad you called again.” Jisung turned around to lean again the bookshelf, arms folded while he looked down.

“It’s been fine.” She replied. Jisung could already feel the uneasiness in her tone, shining through her words. “You aren’t.” Jisung stated outwardly, unintentionally sounding harsh. “Have you taken your rest day?” Jisung asked out of pure curiosity. This was the moment of lucky coincidence, one that he had to make full use of so he wouldn’t let her slip out of his grasp. “Not exactly? I’m at the library again. Had to complete a project.” Jisung’s eyes widened again, this time till his eye ball could’ve fallen out of his eye sockets.

Jisung quickly and hurriedly made his way to the study area, where he last stood. And there she was. He could feel the hairs behind his neck standing upright like soldiers with goosebumps being sent all over his body. She’s the only student there, the orange lamp illuminating the small area surrounding her. Jisung could only see her back unfortunately. Jisung would’ve ran up to her and surprised her. But something in him made him want to just admire her from afar. “You seem to be putting that rest day off? Have it tomorrow. It’s a Friday either way.” Jisung mentioned, eyes narrowing down on her back.

Jisung watched as she sighed and a ran a hand through her hair quickly, somewhat in distress. “Can you force me to?” She whispered, lowering her voice. Jisung blinked his eyes for a moment. “You want me to force you? I don’t want you feeling forced.” She chuckled through the phone, sending a shiver down Jisung’s spine. “I know I won’t do it on my own will. I’m just like that. Like I said before, I’m basically driving myself into insanity trying to keep up with my work. Always grinding, always on the edge. And I can never slip off once.”

I called on impulse. My hands couldn’t keep away from typing in the same number now permanent on the bottom right corner of the table. As I hear him speak on the other end, I weirdly felt safe, and comfort. A sense of calmness. “I’m anxious that if I shut myself from the world from one day, I’ll miss out on a lot, and just stress over it while I try getting everything done to be back on the same level.” I gulped, laughing weakly. “I’m stressing myself for no reason.”

Jisung walked from the back of the bookshelves to shift his angle of sight, attempting to get a better look of her instead of just her back. He managed to get a better view, but the side of her face was covered by her hair as she kept looking down on the table, which only made Jisung frown. “Did you consider about the meet up?” Jisung questioned, peeking his head upwards and standing on his toes, trying everything he can he get a glimpse of her without actually approaching.

“Why do you want to meet me? Hasn’t there been anyone else that called you service? You are required to comfort them too. Why am I so important that you would even want to meet me?” Jisung left a long pause. He never expected such a thought. He didn’t know how to reply either. He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing sideways as he tried to force something out, knowing that she would have already suspected something from the long silence he gave. “If I’m being honest, the other calls were boring. Calls that have only been made once. You’re the only person who called back.” Truthfully, he had many other answers, but he all got blocked out when he narrowed his eyes down at her back.

“So me stressing over my life is much more interesting than the rest? I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jisung let out a soft chuckle, taking note to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t get caught. “Sure. Mm if you would escape to anywhere, where would you go?” She hummed in reply, most probably thinking long and hard. “I would...” She trailed, but it was followed by another longer pause. “Actually, I read about a Japanese term before. It’s ukiyo, the floating world.”

Jisung nodded his head, taking it in. “It when someone being detached from the bothers of life.” She sighed loudly through the phone, but Jisung could hear it clearly from the bookshelves. “I wish I could experience that floating world.” Her words grew into a whisper till it became inaudible at the end. Jisung saw her tilting her head down lower to the table, eventually using her forearm as a rest for her head. “Oh I have an idea.” Jisung replied quickly. “What if I become your so-called Peter Pan? Like, I can take you to Neverland for as long as you need. And that Neverland is just for you. It can be anything you want it to be.” Jisung suggested.

She laughed through the phone, a soft laugh that made Jisung’s already wavered heart skip another beat. “I’d love that.” Suddenly, she pushed her chair back, rising up from her seat. Jisung’s heart began to race, swiftly and silently turning his body to the back of the bookshelf. She was walking to the bookshelves a few rows down where he was at. He pressed himself up against the books in anxiety. “And what if I give you the free will to make Neverland? How would you want it to be? Because I know nothing about having a break.” Jisung heard her footsteps, one foot down followed by a few seconds of silence before placing down the next. It was slow and throwing Jisung off guard, thinking about what he’d do once she began to step close.

“I have two options. I’d either fill it with the things you love, or fill it with things I love and have you explore.” Jisung slid over to the nexy bookshelf ahead in fear, now keeping his voice lower than how it initially was. “I’d rather choose the latter. What do you like doing?” Jisung stared down at the floor. “Dancing, obviously. I like to hang out with my friends. Going out to the pet store just to look at hamsters.” Jisung and her giggled softly after hearing him say the last line.

“Hamsters? That’s cute.” Jisung took awhile to process the next part. He suddenly saw a pair of feet, inches away from his. He instantly shot his head up, seeing her standing in front of him. He tilted his head down a few degrees, realising that she was a lot shorter than him and needed to level the eye contact. For some reason, Jisung’s ribcage began to clench, suffocating his lungs and not letting a single grasp of air into his system as he looked at her. She wasn’t breathing either. The pin drop silence fill the small gap of air between them.

I brought my phone down from my ear, letting my hand fall to my side and my phone loosely hand by my fingers that wrapped around it. I glanced down for a moment before looking back up to him, he was extremely tall. “Wait you’re...” I tried to recall my memory while I took a close look at him, specifically his physique and body structure. It looked exactly like the one that caught my eye back at the practice room. “Were you the one dancing?” I questioned, not sure how to phrase it.

He tilted his head to the side and slowly nodded his head. “Um I’m always dancing?” He replied back with another question. But his head slowly tilted back straight, as if something had dawned on him. “You! Were you the one that came in the practice room that other day?!” He shouted, leaned back in shock as he covered his mouth that immediately gaped open at the realisation. I blinked my eyes rapidly and nodded my head. “Adidas jacket guy. It’s you.” I almost copied his posture entirely as I remembered.

The blonde hair, the thin yet lean body. It all matched. It was him. The cap didn’t give me a clear view before. But now, his face was right in front of me. And he was attractive. He had that baby face. All features of him were stunning and fit perfectly into his small face. He even had the looks to be an idol even, especially with those dance skills. “I’m Jisung. Park Jisung.” He finally introduced himself. In all honesty, I didn’t picture him to look like this while we chatted, his voice was low, and didn’t exactly suit the kind of build he had. “_____.” He hummed in response.

“This is...” Jisung broke his eye contact with me, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck while he breathed out a chuckle. “An unexpected way to meet. How’d you even find me?” I flashed a devious smile. “You weren’t hard to notice. I could hear shuffling right behind me then I heard your voice.” I shook my head. “What were you doing here though?” Jisung stammered, struggling to even form a sentence of reply. He looked like he was hiding the shakiness under his skin. “I thought I could find you by waiting here in the library.”

I squinted my eyes at his answer. So was he trying to find me all this time while I tried to do the same? “You actually waited here for hours?!” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a notch, too shocked when he downshifted his head. Why would he go through such lengths? Did he not think about the factors? Like how I would’ve not even come here in the first place? Or that I’d walk out and he’ll miss his chance? I had all those questions wrapped around my mind, but as much as I wanted to ask, all I could let out was, “So, Peter Pan.” I stated out loud, resuming the conversation we had on the phone.

Jisung smiled. It was a friendly smile. A warm one that embraced the space around them in the coldness of the dark. It also made him look a hundred times more attractive, with his eye smile that looked as if the world got brighter, and with his teeth showing. He kind of resembled a hamster, oddly enough. “Looks like I’m your Peter Pan now.” Jisung clasped his hands behind his back. “And my first order of business is getting you out of whatever hell hole you’re suffering from. And I don’t care what work you have to do. I’m not going to make you do it.” Jisung shook his head furiously, his bright orange-blonde hair swooshing as he did so, making it clear to me that it was extremely as light and fluffy as it looked to be.

“I’ll clear up my day. I have no lessons tomorrow so I’d usually study-” Jisung brought a finger up in front of my face, articulating it from left to right which a frown. “Nope. None of that. Being serious when I say you need a break. I feel like you have mental breakdowns like the one when you first called like once every week.” Jisung said, a soft hint of whining shining through his tone. “Wait do you?”

I bore my eyes into his, face feigned expressionless. “I mean, I had two mental breakdowns so far. That’s not bad, considering how many times I force myself not to.” I folded my arms, taking a step back to place my weight on one leg as I stood nonchalantly. “Yeah. But you still aren’t living your best life.” Jisung bent forward and smiled innocently, with eyes that looked into my soul and read my heart and mind.

“Pack up. You’re not studying anymore. Sleep. And I’ll meet you tomorrow at 2. Wake up at your own time. Don’t force your body into getting out of bed. Hear me?” Jisung began walking away, and I quickly followed, though I was struggling to keep up due to him taking big steps with his long legs. “Fine.” Was all I said, as we made our way to take our stuff from our separate places. We met back at the entrance, Jisung opening the door for me as I downshifted my head in thanks and went out.

“I watched you dance. It was incredible.” I suddenly let out, thinking about what else I could say about it. “It gave me a feeling that I can never pen down in words.” Jisung ruffled his hair and shook his head, adjusting his hair that looked messy. “Really? That’s nice to hear. But I know I can do better. I’m not the best.” When we stepped out of the library, I felt the cold breeze brushing my skin, too cold till I accidentally let out a shiver. “You seemed to be the best one there. I mean, the one that stood out to me the most.” Jisung raised both his brows, as if surprised such a comment came from someone. “Well I’m glad I was able to touch your heart.”

Moments of silence breezed through us like the cold air as we walked down the pathway. I didn’t know where Jisung’s dorm was, but it certainly wouldn’t be at my building. Was he walking actually wanting to walk me back? Either way, the silence wasn’t awkward. Jisung kept humming and nodding his head to the beat playing in his head, shoulders bobbing and making small movements. All I wanted to do was watch and smile. It made my stomach twist a knot, sending butterflies fluttering along while doing so. He would occasionally make eye contact and let out a cute giggle.

“Wait where even is your dorm?” I questioned. Jisung froze for a moment before quickly bringing his focus back on me to answer. “A few blocks down yours.” He simply said, bringing his index finger up to point in front. It was only now that I realised we were already at the entrance of my dorm building. “No wonder I’ve never seen you on campus before.” I muttered, nodding my head. Jisung adjusted the straps of his bag on his shoulders. “I’m not popular. Not like my friends. But at least my major mates know me.” I chuckle and blinked. “Of course they do. You’re talented.” I sighed and looked up to the sky, which was plainly a blank canvas with stars that could only be seen if you squint hard enough.

“I wish I had something to be proud of.” I whispered under my breath. Before Jisung could even say something back, I brought my eyes down from the sky and shook my head. His mouth was already opened and ready to speak, but he didn’t. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? Is there anything I should prepare myself for?” Jisung shrugged with a soft smile. “Nothing. We’ll just do the first thing that pops in my mind. I’m the type to be impromptu.” I hummed, saying goodnight to him one last time before going into the building, not looking back. Yet I felt his eyes glued to me, which only made me self conscious till I was completely out of sight.

One thing’s for sure, I already knew something that was different about us. I didn’t even meet him for long, but I could already tell Jisung was so laid back, relaxed, moving with his day like a breeze, no worries for the world whatsoever. He liked being impromptu, while I always had my days scheduled so meticulously. He seemed to be the complete opposite of me, yet he was still able to have order in his life. Curiosity spurred in me. I was having that urge to know him more, how he was able to live like that, how Jisung, was Jisung.

Funny enough, Jisung didn’t tell me about where to meet. Which was why I chose to seat the bench right outside my dorm building. I didn’t know how long I was waiting. I did follow his advice. I woke up quite late and stayed in bed watching Netflix shows. I took my time to get ready. And I actually went down a little over 2. I had my earphones plugged in, scrolling through Twitter since I had nothing else better to do on my phone. I didn’t have any games on it, or much of any form of entertainment. I never had time for those either.

Out of the blue, I heard something that resembled a buzz of some sort right beside my right ear. I instantly turned my head to it, leaning back and almost falling off the bench as I sent my bottom to the edge, shocked at seeing a drone flying right beside me. It wasn’t just an ordinary drone. It flew closer to me, and I squinted my eyes for closer inspection. There was a camera. It made me jump off the bench and taking steps back. And with each time, the drone flew closer to my face.

“Hey calm down!” I heard for a distance. My eyes adverted to the voice, seeing a small sized Jisung standing far from me. He tiptoed and waved his hand high, the other hand holding the controller of the drone. I could only laugh nervously as he ran up to me. “Good afternoon to you.” Jisung greeted cheerfully with a bright smile. I gulped and forced a casual smile, though I was still weirded out by the drone that was now circling in front of us. “You like me drone? My friend made it actually.” Jisung giggled.

I pursed my lips. “You chose to greet me with that?” I pointed my finger out with skepticism in my tone. “I’m sure you noticed the camera.” Jisung reached out for the drone, and held it in his hands. How can his hands hold something that big with so much ease? Or maybe the drone was small and his hand made it look big. “I was thinking we could record your day. If you were to actually have fun, you’ll have it on tape so you can watch back and remember the fun when you’re going through stressing times.” While Jisung was explaining, I couldn’t help but notice how brightly he was smiling. It was like the one he flashed at the library that night, but this time it was two folds of it, making the effect of butterflies in my stomach fluttering two fold as well.

“You really thought deep...” I whispered, leaning in to examine the drone while he moved it around for me to look at it from different angles. “It’s not so deep. I thought it only made sense for us to record a day like this. It’ll be fun, trust me.” I could only chuckle and stare down at my feet for a moment before looking back to meet his eyes and asking, “So, Peter Pan, where’s our first stop?” Jisung took out his phone and scrolled through it, I took a peek and realised he was on his notes. It had a list and it was labeled “TODO LIST FOR D-DAY” I giggled softly. “You’re making such a big deal out of today. I’m shocked.”

Jisung chuckled and ran a hand through his hair after placing the drone down on the floor. “Mm I like doing things like this. You know like, doing things out of the ordinary. This is certainly one of the time.” I furrowed my eyes at him while he had his on his phone. He probably felt my eyes searing into him, making him lift his eyes up and staring cluelessly. “So I’m out of the ordinary?” I questioned, tilting my head and feigned intimidation.

“What? No, no! I meant the fact that there’s someone who I need to plan a day out for. This kind of things don’t happen everyday.” Jisung leaned back and lifted up both his hands in defence, only making me laugh loudly and shaking my head. “Calm down. I was just teasing. I’m much for weird than I look.” Jisung raised both in eyebrows and jerked his head down to my phone. I blinked my eyes rapidly at his action. “I can already tell. Who has their timetable as their wallpaper?” Jisung faked a gag, which only made me frown as I glanced at my phone. “Nothing’s wrong with that!” I retorted, huffing and walking forward. I barely took a step before Jisung pulled me back.

“Peter Pan hasn’t even tell you the location, dummy.” He flicked my forehead with his finger, making me grimace. “Oh you dare to do that?!” I gaped my mouth open and scoffed in amusement, glancing sideways before retrieving my eyes back to Jisung. “I’m getting back at you!” I growled. “Till you do something that deserves the need to do it.” My voice grew softer with each word and my shoulders bobbed up while my expression turned into an embarrassed one. Jisung laughed out loud, he seemed to be enjoying himself, leaning back and holding his stomach from all the laughter he did for a full moment.

“Till I deserve it? Why are you so uptight?! Come. I’ll let you do it.” Jisung leaned forward, face meeting my level as he closed his eyes and a child-like smile played on his lips. I stared at him for a long moment. And when he didn’t feel any impact, he opened one eye in question. “Come on.” He urged, motioning his hand to his forehead. I chuckled at this, my hand being brought up like it had a mind of its own and flicked Jisung’s forehead with much force. He grimaced, but covered his pain with a sincere laugh the second after. “There aren’t any rules. Do what you want to me, okay? See, I can be your punching bag if you need me to.”

I gave Jisung a disinterested look. “Mm sure. Enough chatting just take me wherever already.” Jisung laughed at my impatience, sliding his phone into hus back pocket and getting himself ready to fly the drone. It flew up and almost went to my face. Luckily my quick reflexes allowed me to avoid it quickly, resulting in Jisung hissing and mumbling, “Sorry.” under his breath. He began to walk forward with me followed closely behind him as he played with the drone and letting it hover around as it recorded us from above.

We were walking quite a distance. I didn’t expect it to be this far. The sound the drone kept making was already imbedded into my memory. We were walking down a street I was completely unfamiliar with and the sun shining brightly above us wasn’t helping at all, only with occasional times when the clouds covered the sun for mere moments before it became blazing hot again. “Where are we even going?” I questioned, taking a look around my surroundings. Jisung finally let the drone come down from the air. He picked it up and motioned his hand with the drone to the building right in front of us. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked up to the building.

“I thought about us enjoying the simple things in life. I didn’t want to take you to any fancy or high end places because well, I have no money for one. But it’s also because if you’re going to do this again, I’d want it to be something affordable. A place you can go to anywhere, anytime.” Jisung shrugged while he explained the reason of choosing this place which I still have yet to know its purpose since I saw no sign that gave me a single clue. “That’s deep.” I simply said. Jisung pursed his lips and nodded his head. “That was unintentionally deep.”

Jisung fiddled with the drone to turn it off and passed it to me for me to hold as he opened the door and gave me way. I downshifted my head and went inside. I looked around. It seemed to be a lobby. There was a small counter at the corner and in front was a deep hallway filled with doors left and right. What was this place? I felt Jisung’s presence behind me as he went to the counter. With a smile, the woman behind gave him a key. He went forward in front of me and tossed the key in the air for it to drop to the floor. I raised a brow at his action. I assumed he tried to expertly catch the keys again but failed to do so. I wanted to face but I kept my neutral expression. Jisung picked it up quickly and turned to flash a soft smile before proceeding to walk. I again followed behind.

While I walked down the hallway, I could hear different music coming from each door. Some rooms were silent while other were blasting music so loud yet muffled due to the door blocking out the music. There weren’t any windows on the door that I could peek into to see what was inside, which only made me more skeptical as I tried figuring out what this place was. Jisung abruptly stopped in front of one door, which was at the very end of the hallway. I almost bumped into him but stopped myself by placing a hand near his shoulder where I would’ve bump into.

Jisung slid the key into the keyhole and fiddled around for a moment for the key twisted and the door opened. Once again he made way for me to head in first. A gentleman, that was another thing about Jisung I took note of. I walked into a pit of darkness till I heard Jisung flip a switch and the lights turned on. I gaped my mouth open in awe and nodded my head slowly as I took unsure steps in. “Is this like...” I tried to form my sentence but I was mesmerised by the blank space of the wooden plank floor and the wall sized mirror that stretched from one end to the other entirely. “Your own dance studio?”

Jisung smiled softly and hummed, standing beside me while we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. “Wait. You aren’t actually telling me to...” I very slowly turned my head up to look at him, realising he already had his eyes on me before I even made eye contact. I brought my index finger up and swirled it around beside me to motion to the the dance studio. “Dance, right?” Jisung didn’t reply, only forming a sly smile for a split second before walking to the side while scrolling through his phone. Music began to play through the speakers from the top corners of the room. He placed his phone down and began moving his body to the beat while making his way back to me.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Jisung smiled brightly and giggled, proceeding to close his eyes and continue grooving to the music being played. It was upbeat and relaxing, not like the ones played at clubs. It was chill and something anyone could move to. Except, I couldn’t. With arms folded and wrapped around my chest, I stared at him with a tilted head. Probably feeling my eyes on him, he fluttered his eyes open and looked at me with an innocent look. “Try dancing!” Jisung shouted, blinking his eyelids rapidly. I only narrowed my eyes in response. Jisung groaned and suddenly brought his hands out to hold my wrist, eventually holding my hands in his.

“You said we can do what I like. And I like dancing. It relieves my stress. I’m sure it’ll have the same effect on you if you actually try.” Jisung begged. He slowly brought my hands up, moving side to side, urging me to follow my lead. I was skeptical. This was never my thing. My body was as stiff as stone when I tried following Jisung. I didn’t know how he was simply so natural and fluid. He wasn’t trying hard at all, unlike me. “Hey.” Jisung suddenly whispered, leaning forward so his face was just mere inches away from mine. My breathing hitched in my throat. “You’re trying too hard. Loosen up. Feel the music.” Jisung’s advise was soothing, whispers that went in my ears and could stay in my mind for ages as he looked into my eyes and searched for the specks of uncertainty that he so desperately want to get rid of.

I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders. With Jisung’s large hands still with mine, Jisung slowly and naturally pulled me closer to him. I composed myself and tried to keep my cool as much as possible, putting my mind at peace and solely focusing on the music. Jisung hummed and tried to move me again. This time, I was slowly able to let my body loose, getting the beat of the song into my head and slowly bobbing my head to it. I couldn’t help but smile as I began to move however I want, being free. “You’re doing it!” Jisung shouted happily, letting go of my hands and allowing our bodies to dance.

I wasn’t looking at the mirror this whole time. But when I did, I grimaced in disgust, leaning back and sticking out my tongue. “Jeez I look so ugly dancing.” I sighed with a frown. Jisung laughed loudly and nodded. “Indeed. But that’s the whole point. No one’s here to judge you. I can be weird with you, if that’s what you want.” Jisung clasped his hands behind him and leaned forward again, flashing his cheeky smile. I scoffed. “Please, how can a great dancer like you dance weirdly? I mean look at you. Everything you do is flawless.” I huffed out, folding my arms.

Another song began to play. This time it was a slow one. Nothing sad or emotional, it felt like a song that was meant to bring yourself back down to earth. “I wasn’t even good last time. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am today.” Jisunv explained carefully, weary so that he wouldn’t sound like he was beinf boastful. Jisung suddenly looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully and after a moment he opened his mouth like a light bulb of thought above his head switched itself on.

Jisung immediately ran to the door, flicking the switch and turning the lights off. It was dark, but some light was still able to shine through from the cracks of the door, making me see Jisung’s figure, but not the details of his face only if I looked close enough. He went back to me and said, “There. With the lights closed, you can do whatever and I won’t see it clearly.” Jisung shrugged triumphantly. I chuckled and nodded my head in agreement.

After that, multiple songs continued to play. His playlist was probably on shuffle mode but they were all songs I could dance to. I could see Jisung and I moving in the mirror. Again, not obvious, but still seen. Out of nowhere, Jisung pulled me in by grabbed my wrist lightly. He pulled me hard till my chest bumped into his. “Sorry.” He whispered, chuckling awkwardly. Jisung was clumsy, yet cute i. his own way. Another feature of his I began to take note of. It took me awhile to realise how close we were. He could probably feel my breath on his skin at this moment.

I looked up from his chest, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, my surroundings blanked. The music drowned out into nothing and the darkness of the room got even darker. And at the same time, Jisung’s face began to be the only thing that was clear to me. I did notice how attractive he was. But this situation was only making it ten times harder for me to handle to emotions that suddenly spurred inside me. My heart was beating fast and my cheat began to clench tightly, giving me no air to breath in as I stood there breathless for a long moment. Jisung didn’t move either, his eyes wandering my face as if looking at every inch.

It was at this moment that got me to think that indeed, I was stress-free. I wasn’t thinking about the pile of books I had to read and analyse. I wasn’t thinking about what was due next week and what my schedule was. All I had my focus on was Jisung and I. The freedom and lightness I was feeling. It was something I never felt for so long. It’s as if I barely knew such a feeling existed. And all it took was doing something that I wasn’t even good at. Doing it with Jisung. It would be too early to say this, but he could very well be the first person that made me feel this way in my whole college life.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Jisung beamed at me as we made our way back to the counter to return the keys. I breathed out a light chuckle and sighed in satisfaction. “Mhm. It was actually... very fun.” I puckered my lips. Jisung went to the counter and leaned forward after placing the key down for the woman to take. He whispered something to her and she nodded her head. She went to the back and Jisung turned around to meet my eyes. “Got a little present for you.” The woman came back with the same key, or perhaps a replica of it. Jisung downshifted his head in thanks and handed me the key. I took it wearily.

I glanced down at it and trailed my eyes back to Jisung. “Why would you give me the key?” I questioned. Jisung took a step in and had his eyes on the key in my hand. He brought his hand up and closed the key in my palm. “I’m giving you access to my most private space ever. That’s because I want you to feel the same way I do whenever I’m in there. Carefree. Effortless. You can go in whenever you want, whenever you need. I don’t have to be there with you all the time. You don’t even have to dance. Just let the atmosphere of the studio calm you. Basically, do whatever. I just want you to be free.”

With each word his voice got heavier with meaning and sincerity imbued, and my heart grew lighter with each breath.

Days go by, and though I didn’t meet Jisung again, he’d occasionally call me late at night to check up on me. And every time I said I was doing work, he’d let out an exaggerated groan and force me to sleep. He sounded like those mothers that keep nagging at you. And with his talkative nature, Jisung and I could go rambling for hours on the phone till one of us sleeps. It’ll mostly be me since I could already drif off to dream land the moment my body hits the bed.

Today, I was feeling trapped in my dorm room. Something in me was feeling the urge for an escape as the walls caved in with every hour passing by. My brain was beginning to slow its gears and I wasn’t able to boost my motivation back up. I glanced to my phone where it showed the time blaring onto my face. “It’s only a ten minute walk.” With a shrug, I dumped everything I wanted to get done by tonight and headed out the door, not giving a single care to look neat and going out in my sweater and sweatpants.

I went into the building, it was dark with only the moonlight from outshine shining in through the glass entrance. I made my way to the dance studio, key in my hand that I already shoved into the pockets of my sweater on my way here due to the cold of the night. I unlocked the door and entered. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead I switched on the small lamplight that Jisung told me he placed there in case I needed it. I silently thank Jisung in my mind as I began to unpack my things.

I took one look around the studio. It was spacious, the plank floors leaving the space wide open just for me. Though I came here to do work, my mind was slowly trailing off to Jisung. His figure slowly appeared, picturing him in my mind as I let his shadows dance in the dark. It was his dance that caught my eye and it was his personality that was making me crave to know him more. I was mesmerised, enchanted by every move he made. Every word he spoke, every clumsy gesture. It was all those things clumped into one that was sucking me in.

I startled out of my thoughts with a quick shake of my head and got to work. Quite a long time had passed by. Jisung was right. The atmosphere of the studio, silent, peaceful, nothing to disturb my serenity. For some reason, I didn’t think twice when I grabbed my phone to call Jisung at this timing. Before I could even press on his contact number, my eyes flickered to the time. 2:30AM. For one moment I thought he’d be asleep. But with remembering about his call service, I knew he’d still be up. My hopes filled me up with I called and placed the phone on speaker phone, placing my phone back down beside me while I continued to write.

Jisung picked up in a matter of seconds. “Hey! How are you?” I smiled softly. No matter the time and place, he never failed to sound cheerful and bursting with energy. It felt as if he was being like that just for me. “Nothing. Just work.” Should not have said that. “What?! It’s two in the damn morning? How are you even- no more studying. Makes me puke every time I hear that.” Jisung feigned a gag and I laughed loudly in response to his disgusted reaction. “I’m almost done, alright? I’m actually at the music room. It’s quite nice being here.” Jisung hummed and I leaned back, placing my hands behind me. “Oh you’re there? Want me to join you?” Jisung’s voice suddenly grew excited. The sudden burst of energy shocked me. How was he able to be so energetic in the dead morning?

“You don’t have to! I was just about to go anyways.” I squinted my eyes and formed a quizzical look on my face. Why did I even say that? I wasn’t even about to leave. “I don’t have classes tomorrow so I can stay up. I know you don’t have any either.” I raised an eyebrow, my eyes going to the screen as I saw Jisung’s name still flashing at me. “What are you even suggesting?” I questioned with a confused tone. Jisung smacked his lips. “Mm to have a night out with you? We didn’t go out for so long.” Jisung cried out. I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly and tilted my head a few degrees at his suggestion.

I leaned forward to my phone, my voice lowering itself to a whisper. “You... actually want that?” I blinked my eyes rapidly, waiting for his answer. Jisung breathed in once and said, “I just said that, didn’t I?” I frowned. “But I want you to rest and-”

“Already out the door!” Jisung ended the call. I sighed. But a smile cracked on my lips at the thought of him coming here.

“What is all this mess?” Jisung complained in disgust. Face scrunched up and nose crinkled at the sight of my books and papers while he helped me to slide it back into my tote bag. He grabbed a stack and placed it on his thigh. Flipping through. I could only see cluelessness in his eyes. “Jeez. This is so not to my liking. Or understanding.” Jisung shrugged and shoved it into the bag, making it the last stack.

Jisung stood up and carried it on his shoulder, instantly crying out as he leaned over to the side where he hung the bag, the weight of it pulling him down. “How do you carry these all day?!” Jisung shouted with utmost shock. I simply shrugged and made my way for the door. “You’d be surprised at how much my shoulder hurts every week.” I said nonchalantly due to the fact it was truly something I’ve gotten used to. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Jisung bringing himself back up and trying to get used to the weight while walking to me. I opened the door and with a kind smile, moved my body aside to give way for him to exit, which he gladly thanked for with a whisper.

“Anyways, there’s a twenty four hour ice cream shop that just opened nearby. Are you in for a treat?” Jisung questioned, looking down at me. I turned my gaze from the floor and to him, glancing sideways for a quick thought before nodding. “Sure.” I simply replied. I could only follow Jisung, once again not knowing where he wanted to take me. I was familiar with the neighbourhood around campus of course. But I’ve been staying at the campus for so long that I never got the chance to find out what was new about it. Such as a new ice cream shop I never knew existed till now.

The walk there was comfortable silence. I took this time to look at Jisung’s outfit. He was wearing his signature black adidas jacket, track pants and a black cap. It felt like it was something unique only to him. A person I could identify instantly with what he wears. I like Jisung in it. It was a lazy look but he somehow managed to pull it off, naturally good looking. My focus trailed down to what I was wearing, and I couldn’t help but think about just how bad I looked at this time of the night.

Jisung once again abruptly stopped. I was able to dodge him this time and stand beside him. He looked inside the shop while I had my eyes on the sign that said they were open. “They actually do open twenty four seven.” I muttered, instantly realising that Jisung had already entered the shop when I heard the sound of the bells above the door ringing, the door swinging open. I quickly caught up to the door, making it just in time before it closed fully and entered.

I stood beside Jisung, the two of us scanning through the menu above the counter. “Is this your first time here?” I asked. Jisung bobbed his shoulders. “It is. You?” I shook my head. “I didn’t have time to be going out and trying out food that the neighbourhood has to offer. I stick to the food on campus most of the time.” Jisung scoffed softly and turned to me. “Which is practically convenience store food. How boring of you.” My jaw dropped and I breathed out an unbelievable chuckle, punching his shoulder gently. “And how rude of you to say that.” I feigned exasperation and looked up to the menu again after the two of us laughed softly.

I was the first to walk up to the counter, Jisung quickly following behind as I felt his presence being awfully close to my back. “Can I get three scoops of chocolate chip cookie?” The woman at the cashier nodded and turned her attention from me to Jisung. “You?” She questioned. I turned my head to him as well. Jisung squinted his eyes while he looked up to the menu again. He stuttered for a moment before responding. “I’ll just get two scoops of strawberry swirl.” The woman cracked a small smile, almost invisible as she keyed in our order. She told the price and looked at the two of us, waiting for the cash. When Jisung didn’t respond, I quickly took out my wallet. I glanced at hi for a brief moment, noticing that he was looking at me and didn’t hear the cashier. But before I could even slide out my dollar note, Jisung slammed my hand down lightly and took out his money in one swift motion.

“Thanks.” I softly whispered as the two of us walked to the side t wait for our ice cream. I folded my arms and placed my weight on one leg. Jisung sighed loudly, assumingly to break the silence between us. “Three scoops? That’s a lot.” Jisung mentioned. I frowned and waved a lazy hand at him. “Calm down I’ll pay for the three scoops. I’m just craving for it.” I breathed out, now feeling slightly bad that I spent a lot of Jisung’s money since the price was quite expensive. Jisung looked down on me, quirking up a questioning brow. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying it’s a lot. You don’t need to pay me.” Jisung quickly retorted with assurance imbued into his tone.

My mouth formed an ‘O’ at the realisation and slowly nodded my head. “We can’t be eating here, right? So where are we going to go?” Jisung ruffled his hair, adjusting the strands that laid naturally and nicely down his forehead. I was still able to see his eyes despite having it covered by the layer of hair. “Our spot.” I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Our spot?” I echoed back, completely clueless.

Jisung flashed me a disappointed expression along with a sigh. “The studio. That, or we can just eat at the park nearby. Oh and don’t expect me to protect you if we get kidnapped. I won’t be strong enough to protect you.” I laughed at the joke, Jisung chuckling along with me. “You dance with such energy and you’re telling me you can’t beat a kidnapper?” I scoffed loudly in amusement. “You’re quite something.” I added on. Jisung looked down, somewhat in a shy manner and smiled before lifting his head back up. “I really am.”

-Just how much was I missing out on

We walked out, ice cream in hand. Jisung seemed to be texting someone with his free hand while I simply looked down on my ice cream and be the first to dig in. The bite felt like a trip down memory lane. How was it that I didn’t enjoy simple things like ice cream during college? Don’t get me wrong I do still eat ice cream, but I never experienced one that tasted authentic, way better than the ones sold in convenience stores. “You seem to be enjoying it.” Jisung suddenly let out, making me head shot up to him and then to my ice cream, which I already noticed that I took more than just one bite already.

Jisung slid his phone into his track pants and got to eating. His jaw dropped and his mouth hung open so wide that it could reach the floor. With the ice cream nestled on the surface of his tongue, he gasped loudly and looked to me instantly. “This is so good!” Jisung squealed with much happiness and excitement, taking another bite instantly and moaning in satisfaction. The two fo us ate in silence as we walked, allowing ourselves to sink into the ice cream’s captivating flavours like a bath.

We entered the park. It was dimly lit, with only the lamps that lined the pathways and lighting the place with an orange hue. Jisung took quick steps forward to sit on the nearest bench. I sat down beside him, a small smile forming on my lips. All that we could see were the lights and trees that had its leaves and branches swaying in the gentle breeze. Jisung had his full attention on his ice cream, ow seeming to be taking small bites to preserve the ice cream and take a longer time to finish it.

“One question. How long have you not come to this park? Or have you never?” Jisung’s question got my mind blank. I thought about it for quite some time, till Jisung had to hum to see if he even got my attention. “The only time I’ve been here was two years ago. For helping out at an event as a job.” Jisung moved his lips to one side. “Question two. Was majoring in law what you wanted to do?” I already knew this conversation was about to get deep. And at that moment, if I’m being really honest, I’m glad Jisung’s the one I’m having this conversation with.

“Yeah. At first I thought lawyers looked cool in those Korean dramas. My only goal at that time was to do any major that I seemed to be interested in and one that could get me rich. Those were my only two requirements that satisfied me. I was always hardworking but I never knew my work could get this overloaded. I wasn’t ready for it.” I took in a deep breath to compose myself, realising how real I was getting about myself. “I only started having breakdowns at the end of last year. Never bothered to take a break due to constant anxiety on how much I could miss out on. All because I want that simple goal of doing well in college for a job that’ll give me good pay. I didn’t even think about what I’d do with the money. I never bothered to expand my goal beyond that. And I think that makes me very low, and shallow minded.”

I slowly tited my head up, wanting the cool air to cool my face. The sky was nothing but plain ink black darkness with only the small moon shining it’s moonlight on us. I closed my eyes, not really caring if Jisung responded to anything I just said. Letting it out for him to hear was all I wanted, all that I need. I kept my breathing steady and collected, the simple calmness of the quiet surrounding putting my mind at ease. “But have you ever thought that you don’t need to keep up with whatever’s around you?” Jisung whispered. I fluttered my eyelids open and brought my eyes down to meet his. We locked eyes, and Jisung reached out in front of me to grab my now empty cup, making my breath hitched in my throat. He always made me stop breathing whenever he got close. What was he, death?

“What do you mean?” Jisung puckered his lips, seeming to be deep in thought before replying. “I get that you want to do well. But you don’t always have to go at the speed this world’s at. It’s not always in the hustle.” Jisung whispered carefully. His eyes never met mine. And with each word and every one that was going to come after, could drive it’s words deep into my heart and soul, like he was seeing right through me. “Look around you. This place, the studio. You would’ve never discovered them if you were so focused. Slow down to see the prettier things in life. Isn’t that what they always say?” HIs words were definitely meant to bring an impact. And it did. My heart sank, not in a bad way. But simply because the realisation and reality was weighting my heart down.

“Technically, you introduced me to the studio and park.” Jisung brought his hand out, as if putting his words on it and placing it in front of me. “Exactly. You wouldn’t even get to know me if you never took time to look at your surroundings and finding my note.” I licked my bottom lip that was extremely dry. My eyes absentmindedly went down to his lips, that still looked unbelievably smooth despite the dryness of the air. “I told you, didn’t I? I can be here for you. Whatever you need. So don’t always think college is everything. I mean, look at me.” I chuckled.

But Jisung was right. I did took time to look at him as a person. He was doing something that wasn’t just interest, but what he loved and had passion for. He’s able to do well and not have to stress over things too much and too often. Jisung was able to carry himself how he wants to and be satisfied with life when I would be satisfied with mine long years down the road. He was the physical representation of ukiyo. The floating world that didn’t bother about the worries of life, and living it his own way, no matter what could appen to him. He was a ukiyo standalone.

“Slow down to see the prettier things the life.”

Jisung might just be that prettier thing.

Jisung and I got close, real quick. It wasn’t a surprise. I already knew I’d want to meet him more often, wanting him to be my escape from the whirlpool of life. He was always a breath of fresh air, a sight for sore eyes. He never failed to make the time I spent with him meaningful to the last second. I quickly grew to realise that I needed to meet him on a regular basis. I needed to take my mind off work, and he was the only one who could do it for me.

I was just finishing lecture, carrying the heavy pounds of books in my hand with much struggle. I was trying to juggle my book on my forearm while the other tried to find for my phone in my pocket to text Jisung, saying I wanted him to come over to accompany me. With a quiet grunt I tried to type with one hand, which to me was an extreme struggle. Just when I decided to stop walking to get myself gathered together, I looked up from my phone, suddenly seeing a group of guys walking just past me.

Murmurs and whispers from different angles could be heard from far away, I raised my brow, watching their backs. One that caught my eye was the adidas jacket. I knew instantly from his figure and bright orange natural looking hair that it was Jisung. I instantly ran up to him, shoving my phone into my bag to just I could have a free hand to tap on his shoulder. “Jisung!” I screamed happily, after giving him a tap I placed a firm grip on his shoulder to stop him. The other guys surrounding him turned around, noticing how Jisung abruptly stopped.

“Who’s she?” One of them asked, his voice sounding arrogant and cocky from the get-go. Jisung gulped and looked left and right, glancing over his shoulder. He suddenly seemed anxious. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly, sucking in his lips while he rubbed a nervous hand at the back of his neck. “I-I don’t know.” Jisung quickly replied. He stared at me for a moment, eyes cold and would probably feel like ice if I were to maintain it any longer. Jisung shoved away the hand I had on his shoulder roughly, only making me scoff loudly. “What the heck? Jisung you good?” I was about to reach my hand to punch him lightly on the shoulder, thinking that the way he’s acting was just a joke, but with him having quick reflexes, he got a firm grip on my wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Look. I don’t know you. Why are you treating me like you’re my friend?” Jisung’s words were meant to slice. And it worked. I was in disbelief, the large wave crashing over me and wiping me out and the words rolled hard on his tongue. Jisung slammed my wrist down, my whole arm swinging backward slightly from the strong impact before it fell down my side. I looked to my hand and trailed my gaze back to Jisung. I stiffened, trying not to shiver under his gaze. What was going on with him? Another friend of his placed a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head forward. Jisung pushed me off with his cold gaze one more time and turned around sharply to walk away. I gaped, eyes widened as the other looked to each with unsure faces and disappeared along with Jisung.

I stumbled a few steps back from Jisung’s impact. The impact in his words, actions. Why was he like that? He said he didn’t know me. I took a moment to head over to a nearby bench to place my books down and have a break, but it was mostly to think over about why Jisung suddenly acted different. He never seemed like that before. He looked... cold and unapproachable. That look in his eyes when he made eye contact with me, it felt as if he never knew me at all. What was with that sudden shield?

Later that day, I tried to text Jisung. Give him a call, sending multiple texts. He wasn’t responding to any of it. He used to always be free 24/7. Why was he suddenly not online, especially after what had just happened. I wanted to know why. This was the first time he ever acted like that towards me. And it was too odd. We would never meet too often. But without him texting me at least once a day, you could say I was falling apart again when he began to not get into contact with me for a whole week after the incident.

I tried to find him again. Seeing him on campus whenever, I tried to approach him. This time I walked up to him quickly and had a firm grip on his wrist. “Jisung? What’s wrong with you the other day? You acted as if you didn’t even know me.” I said with a nervous chuckle, wanting to seem like it didn’t bother but failed tremendously. Jisung looked at me blankly, expressionless. Like nothing went through his mind with that I said. Or even looking at me. Jisung bit his lower lip, glancing sideways as if he didn’t want to give a single care about my presence.

He slid my grip off his wrist. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.” Jisung said in a monotonous manner. He glanced to his left and right quickly, eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. And in that small second of eye contact, I felt something. His eyes looked sad, like he was feeling sorry. But that look disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Jisung was out of sight once again.

I was in bed, eyes up to the plain white ceiling that gave me the free will to think about anything. Anything and everything, but it all lead to Jisung. I simply couldn’t shake it off. The way Jisung looked at me. I felt the impact of his push so vividly. I kept replaying the scene in my mind. It was just so not Jisung. It was so off from what he’s like. It seemed like it wasn’t Jisung at all. I turned to my side, phone right beside my face. I picked it up, instantly going to my contacts and clicking on Jisung’s name.

“What’s going on with you...” I said in a soft whisper, my mind trailing off yet again as I stared at Jisung’s name on my screen, so bright and so big. Yet it suddenly felt distant. Jisung, felt distant. A long while had past, and I still contemplated on whether to give him a call. I gave up doing so a few days back. Why did I still have hope? He didn’t seem to want anything to do with me. And I knew it wasn’t because he’s busy. He didn’t want to contact me. He’s ignoring me.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, slow and steady to calm my mind. I was beginning to jump to conclusions. And I really would never want to have that perception of Jisung. Never once thought of him that way, and never will. I would never. I groaned out loud, turning off my phone and placing it back down beside me harshly with the screen faced down. I curled myself up into a ball. It had only been a week. And I was already missing him. His voice, his clumsiness, his cuteness. The sudden change of his attitude, to the whole ignoring and growing distant thing. It was too much. Again I was falling, cracking at places where it got pieced together when I was with Jisung.

Unable to sit still, I got up and walked to my study table, slamming my body down and beginning to do work. I furiously began writing, doing whatever I can to suppress myself. I was growing mad, and if I had to let out my anger, I’d be doing it in the productive way. However, I was only able to keep that adrenaline up for a few minutes till I got to frustrated that I threw my pen on the wall in front of my and balled fists into my hair, screaming till my voice disappeared. I shut up eyes close, allowing the tears that had been welling up this whole time to finally fall, sending myself into a breakdown.

I cried and shouted with all my heart. I couldn’t beat it. I couldn’t do anything without Jisung. I didn’t know what to feel. Anger, rational, disappointment. Perhaps it was all those balled into one emotion I didn’t know the name of. I shook my head vigorously, running a hand through my hair and slamming both hands down on the table, wanting to swallow down my flood of emotions. I can’t be going through this. I had work to do. Jisung’s a waste of my time, and my energy. My feelings for him will not stop me from moving forward. I knew I shouldn’t have met him. He led me to this, to suffering even more on top of my large pile of other stresses I had to handle. He was once my ukiyo, but how he’s far from being one.

“I can’t fucking keep doing this!” Jisung screamed, pacing back and forth in his dorm. Luckily Renjun wasn’t here to hear his rant. He’d been stressed out about it for weeks. It’s almost been a few months. He couldn’t keep this up. He was this close to showing his anger if his friends were to ever hung out with him again. Jisung had one arm wrapped around his torso while the other rested and had his thumb grazing over his bottom lip. He was missing her. He wanted to see her. But he couldn’t. Not when his friends are around 24/7.

At the party later that night, Jisung had no mood for any of it. Not the drinking, not the games. He was at this stupid party just because his friends dragged him. Although he never said no to the offer. Jisung simply went with it to satisfy his friends. He was sick of the people around him reeking of alcohol, people bumping into him every which way, the loud music that could possibly bloa his eardrums. Just how many of these parties had he been to already? And he still couldn’t get used to this.

Jisung was standing by the drinks area, watching his friends on the couch and getting wasted. They’re finding their own way home somehow. Jisung knew they were capable, so there wasn’t any reason why he had to take care of them. He seemed to be so fixated on one spot that he didn’t even realise Jeno was standing beside him after he let out a, “You seem to be having fun.” Jisung came zinging back to reality. “Yeah.”

“I know you aren’t.” Jeno gulped down the red cup and placed it down on the table behind them. He leaned back casually, eyeing Jisung which intimidated Jisung just a little bit. “What’s been going on with you?” Jeno leaned his head forward and closer to Jisung, making sure his words could be heard over the loud music. “Nothing.” Jeno scoffed. “It can’t be nothing.”

Jisung turned his head to face Jeno, flashing him a look that read, “I really don’t care.” Jeno smacked his lips and folded his arms. “I’m the closest one to you. Even though they all treat you like you’re our own baby, I’m the one that knows you best. So spill. There’s no hiding from me.” Jisung groaned out loudly and grabbed Jeno’s wrist, pulling him to a room closed and isolated from this mess Jisung simply hated.

Jisung went in and slammed himself onto the bed, sitting on the edge while Jeno raised both his eyebrows in shock at the little man’a temper, closing the door behind him slowly as the music finally got drowned out. “So?” Jeno began, leaning against the door and placing one leg over the other. Jisung threaded his fingers through his hair, keeping his hand at the back of his head as he tilted upwards to find a way to say his feelings, as if the words were out there for him on the ceiling.

“I have this girl I like. We’ve been hanging out for a long while. But we stopped because one day I decided to be a prick and push her off when she saw me with the rest of us.” Jeno opened his mouth and clapped his hand once. “It’s that girl isn’t it?!” Jeno pointed at Jisung with surprise. Jisung wasn’t exactly sure if Jeno and Jisung were thinking of the same girl, but either way Jisung simply nodded.

“I don’t know why I did it in the first place. I guess I was embarrassed of you guys knowing her and you’ll keep bugging me about it all the time if you knew.” Jisung groaned out, the frustration expertly imbued into his tone though it took no effort to do so. Jeno narrowed his eyes on Jisung, a look that made him know that a long lecture was about to come for him. And he couldn’t escape.

As Jeno pushed his back off the door and walked forward, he said, “So what? You didn’t want us knowing you have a girl you like because you think we’ll invade your privacy? If you want to know, most of us guessed it already. You kept going out at such late hours almost all the time. Did you think Renjun wouldn’t have noticed?” Jeno tilted his head, making sure it was extremely obvious. “That’s why we were shocked when you did that to her.” Jeno added on. Jeno squinted his eyes and blinked them rapidly. “Then why don’t you just explain it to her?”

Jisung frowned, head slowly tilting down to cover his face. “Because I felt bad for doing it and thought she’d be mad at me and wouldn’t want to talk to me again.” Jisung sighed loudly for three days. “I didn’t-” Jisung inhaled deeply. “I didn’t want to face her because I didn’t want to feel the pain of having her get mad at me.” Jeno chuckled, the kind that was in disbelief. “Jisung! You don’t even know if she felt that way!” Jeno slammed a palm to his forehead. “Yes she’d be mad but you should be making the first move to apologise to her! She’s probably crying in bed wondering why you suddenly cut off all ties with her, you dummy!”

While Jeno was giving him an earful, Jisung fiddled with this thumbs, scarping at the hang nails and growing deep in thought. Jeno was right. Why didn’t he do anything to solve it? He simply backed off because he was too afraid to face her after what happened. He was caring for his own feelings more than hers. And now she’s definitely in a way worsr position than he was. “Fuck I’m dumb.” Jeno hummed in agreement, only making Jisung shoot a glare at him while letting out a ‘tsk’.

“Might be too late but talk to her. Right now she needs an explanation. No matter how long ago it was.” Jeno had his voice firm and advisory.

Jisung made his way to her dorm. He had a sinking, anxious feeling in his chest while he walked down the hallway and inched closer to her door.

I was at my table, still studying the life out of me. I knew I’d be walking out of this dorm brain drained and walking like a living corpse when I go for my lecture tomorrow. Just when I wanted to rest my head down, there was a knock on the door. I thought I misheard, but after a long moment the knocking came again. I quickly walked up to the door, swinging it open. Everything paused. My motion, my eyes. It was glued to the person in front of me, which was Jisung.

“Can I come-” “I have work to do.”

I tried to close the door, but Jisung stopped it with his foot. “Please. I owe you an explanation.” Jisung said, voice filled with softness and sincerity. I couldn’t bear to resist. I knew I never could if he came. I sucked in my lips, sighed quietly and opening the door. I walked in, sitting at my study table and turning my chair around. I watched Jisung close the door behind hIm, making his way to the bed, each step seemed to be weary and careful, watching out for himself with every move to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

Jisung and I locked eyes for a long time, silence circulating the air. I cocked my brow up in curiosity as to why he wasn’t saying anything. Jisung quickly noticed my change of expression and shook his head as if bringing himself back from a moment of deep thinking. “I’m sorry. For that day. I know I was rude. First I did that, then I completely ignored you.” Jisung bit his lower lip, now avoiding eye contact like he was too embarrassed to meet my eyes. “I did it because I was scared of what my friends thought of me having someone.” My quizzical expression became more prominent.

I sat there, not sure of what to think. Like I said, I never wanted to think badly of Jisung. But after hearing that, it seemed that my underlined feeling of anger became to surface itself after being forced to suppress itself for far too long. “So you did that to me then you ignored me. On top of that completely removing me out of your life like I was invisible. Then you didn’t bother to try and fix this sooner. All this because of what you’re friends would think of me? Of us?” I pointed to myself, my voice growing scarily louder with each sentence.

I smacked my lips and nodded. I didn’t need his verbal reply to know the answers to that. And it disappointed me. “I never thought I’d say this. But that was shallow. Very shallow of you.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Did you know how much I was going through when I couldn’t contact you? All those times I texted and called, you didn’t reply to any of them. And why? For your pride? While I was here balling my eyes out every night unable to do my work.”

I allowed a moment of silence to pass, though I could’ve continued without having to catch my breath. “You used to be my escape. Someone I came to when I needed to destress, be free. But now... you’re just the person that’s stopping me from my goal. Getting work done, it could be stressing yes. But if I’m unable to do work just because of my feeling for someone as low as you...” I shut my eyes closed, wanting to hold back my tears. My opened my eyes and forced them to blare at Jisung with firmness. “I don’t see why you should be in my life anymore.”

I stood up, taking slowly strides to the door. I held the doorknob, turning it and opening the door. I brought my free hand out, motioning to Jisung. “Don’t come back. I can’t bear to see you anymore without having these confusing feelings. It’s something I shouldn’t be spending my time worrying about.” I said sternly. I watched Jisung. He seemed far from stable. He seemed to be cracking at the seams, he was at the edge of tears. He didn’t bother to hide them, the tears seeming to be clouding his vision as it welled up in his eyes. He had his eyes glued to the floor the whole time. A long moment went by till he finally stood up and walked to the door.

Before Jisung left, he stood right in front of me. His eyes met mine, shivering with guilt and instant despair. It broke my heart to see him like this. But in situations like these, I had to choose. Either lose Jisung, or lose myself. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, almost inaudible. He blinked his eyes once and the tears streamed down his cheeks. I reached my hand out, slowly and shakil to place them on his shoulder. He looked down on it, simply letting it slide off when he went. He walked away, and I bit my bottom lip. That was the last moment I saw him.

Closing the door, I let my back lean against the door and slide down till I reached the floor. I thought I wouldn’t feel a single sense of sadness or regret. But at that moment, when I couldn’t even handle seeing Jisung’s back disappear as he walked down the hallway, the shell I had carefully built around my heart shattered, and no number of words of reassurance repeated to myself will piece it back together. I shook my head. If I kept my expectations low, I would stop feeling the throbbing. If I cut off all my emotions, I wouldn’t be so weak. And that was what I was determined to do.

Jisung felt every single word struck deep and low, like a bell toll that shook inside him. As the her hand fell off his shoulder, so,too, did the warmth. He began to shiver. Only cold and pain remained, sharp enough to numb everything else. All his adrenaline, gone, and with it, his sense of feeling. All his life, gone. The ground caved in, and he hit bottom.

Jisung walked away with a heavy heart. Everything he did for her. From the moment she unintentionally made that call to the last time they met, Jisung had it flashed in his mind like a movie tape. She was al the more right to be like this to him. He knew all too wel of the consequences. He had to bear this pain. It was the only right thing to do. He didn’t know how he’ll get over it. But even if he eventually does. he’ll never forget her. Not for a single second. Even if she would be shoved to the back of his mind, he’d dug up for it again. She meant so much to him. And how Jisung will be seeing her no longer.

“Jaehyun stop I swear!” I giggled loudly as Jaehyun continued to tickle my sides. He carried me away from the cashier with his arms around my waist. I laughed out loudly and beg him constantly to put me down. He finally did when I gave him a hard smack in the arm and made him wince.

“You’re laugh is cute.” Jaehyun said with a light chuckle. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Yeah well you don’t have to keep tickling me for you to hear it.” I feigned exasperation, leaning forward against the counter to place my chin on the palm of my hand. “Really? Good to know but I’d still prefer to tickle you.” I shot Jaehyun a death glare and all he did was threw back a playful wink to which I responded with a ‘tsk’.

Jaehyun got close to ruffle my hair. And when he had his hand on my head, the bell above the door opened, signalling that someone entered. I swatted off Jaehyun’s hand, him laughing lowly at my defensive act as I pat down my apron. “Welcome to-” My voice stopped in its tracks. I was frozen. The moment I looked up, I instantly knew the person in front of me.

“Park Jisung.” I whispered, voice growing soft. I gulped, wanting to swallow away any feeling that might surface before I even continued. Our eyes locked. And Jisung... he was suddenly bringing in the sense of comfort through his gaze. I didn’t know how he did it. We’ve never met for almost two years. Yet here he was, suddenly showing up in front of my face, with not a single thing of him changed and giving me the exact same feeling I had back then.

“I’d like to talk. Over some black coffee?” Jisung offered, slowly pointing up to the menu, his eyes never leaving mine. I blinked my eyes rapidly and took this time to glance at Jaehyun, who seemed to he confused yet didn’t want to question or interrupt whatever was happening in front of me. “Why? You have no reason to.” I said simply with a nonchalant shrug. That was clearly a fake move.

“Just a chat. We used to be friends, didn’t we?” Jisung questioned back, pushing his shoulders back and allowing his chest to puff up ever so slightly with confidence. I didn’t know where he was going at, why he was here in the first place. Either way, I didn’t give him a reply, simply turning around to start making the coffee with Jaehyun giving me space.

I went to the table where Jisung was seated, placing the two cups of black coffee on the table. I took a seat at the opposite side. Tight silence circulated us. It made me want to choke due to how awkward it was. I was running my finger around the rim of the cup slowly. “Have you been well?” Jisung asked. “I’m doing great. Got into university and I’m working here part time.” I breathed out. “You?” I asked back. I was genuinely curious.

As much as I was able to get over Jisung, his unknown well being got me to he on edge whenever I thought of him. That could be said with my buried feelings for him as well. “Got admitted into an art school. I’m apparently capable enough to start my own dance crew.” Jisung breathed out a light chuckle and took a sip of coffee. “Look. What I’m here for is...”

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment before opening them back and have it darted to meet mine. “What I’m here for is that I want to start over.” I gave him an expressionless look, mainly because I didn’t know what emotion to show. It was all spiralled into something unrecognisable. A mix of lots of emotions. I had no reply for Jisung, which only gave him a signal to keep talking.

“Every day I’ve carried the burden of missing you. And each day it grew heavier and heavier. I knew it was the weight of my actions, their consequences. And I miss you too much. You meant so much to me, and you still do. I was trying to not break our friendship but I only made it worse. Trust me I regretted it everyday after that.” Jisung’s eyes softened and I grew weak under his gaze. It was gentle and light, it made me fall in a matter of seconds if I didn’t care to put in energy to have a guard up.

“And on top of that, it wasn’t just our friendship I missed. I missed it all. You. I didn’t get to say this, but I’ve liked you. And I always have. It was a feeling beyond the mutual one. It was something more and I came here afraid of how you’d think. I came anyway. Because I’d do anything to get to start over with you again.” I swallowed. It took me time to allow his words to sink in. I wasn’t able to form a reply right off the bat.

I did have feelings for Jisung as well. Though it wasn’t prominent at the start, it began to grew the more time we spent together, which was why it made the situation two years ago far more painful than it really was. Apparently Jisung felt that way as well.

“If I allow it, will you be my ukiyo again?” I whispered, looking down to my cup that I have yet to drink a singe drop of coffee from. Jisung leaned in closer and, his face now inches away from mine. My breath hitched in my throat. He still had this affect on me. The ability to have me frozen and stiff with his gaze and actions. It was something only he knew how to do, the only one who could do this to me.

“Your ukiyo, your Peter Pan. Please...” Jisung leaned forward to rest his chin on top of my head, tilting his head down slowly to place a soft, loving kiss on the crown of my head. One that made me feel as if he was touching something so precious and fragile, the most important thing in the world. “Take me back.” I closed my eyes and took in one deep breath.

“Take me back to the studio after my shift.”

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dw-writes · 4 years ago

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Kinktober - Dirty Talk - Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader [NSFW]

So, I know I missed day 2 but hey!! Two works for Kinktober so far isn’t too bad!!! This is my FIRST attempt at something for The Boys, and I hope that I did Billy Butcher justice. /shrugs/ anyway, please let me know what you thought of this work!!! (and if you may want more billy butcher in the future!)

this will be tagged with KINKTOBER 2020, SMUT, and LEMON, so if you don’t wish to see this, please block those tags!! Thank you!!!

The first time, Billy had brushed it off as a coincidence. Your shorts had been short, and your ass filled them nicely, and when you swayed your hips from side to side to the beat of the song on the radio it had made his mouth water. The second time, he thought it was just happenstance. You’d gotten out of the shower and your towel was tied around your chest as you searched for something to wear for the night. He’d probably said something, honestly, and you had looked over your shoulder and started to let your towel inch lower and lower until it was on the ground. He’d been good both times – he hadn’t touched you, only watched, only let his hands wander to his own cock when you weren’t looking.

The third time, though. The third time, you messed up. You’d been wearing one of his shirts – one of the ugly Hawaiian print shirts that he insisted on owning. He thought it would look good if you wore just that and your underwear – he’d even let his mind run away with how good you’d look.

You smiled and looked at him from across the room, where you were sprawled out on the couch, reading a book. His eyes flicked up to your face when you did so.

He groaned and tossed the paper he’d been skimming onto the counter. “You’ve been reading my mind,” he accused.

“What?” you asked, not registering the statement. You pouted after a moment, closing your book around your finger. “No,” you said. Your voice was laced with innocence and misplaced injury. “I would never—” Billy started to stalk across the room. “—Ever read your mind, Billy Butcher.” You sat up as he met the end of the couch. “I promised when I joined your little group that I would never use my power against you.”

“And yet here we are,” he rasped. He arched an eyebrow.

You vaulted from the couch, laughing and squealing with Billy hot on your heels. He grabbed your arm and spun you around, changing your direction from the door to the bedroom to the wall. He grunted as his chest slammed against your back and you gasped, having hit the wall chest first and knocking the air out of you.

He swore a bit, and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay, love?”

“Fine,” you breathed.

He pulled your hair from your face and continued in a low, concerned voice, “You sure?”

“Yes,” you answered, glancing back at him.

His fingers dipped into your hair and tugged the hair tie from your locks, watching your face. “You got a safe word?” he husked, a grin crawling across his face.

You slid your hands up the wall under your chest. “Vought,” you replied with a wink.

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing else kills the mood better,” he whispered. His head dipped towards your neck. Billy yanked your arms behind your back almost unkindly, and stretched the hair elastic around them both. “So, you’ve been spyin’ on me?” His breath rolled against your ear and smelled of cigarettes. You swallowed. “Listenin’ in on what I’m thinkin’ about?”

“Only if it’s about me,” you replied with a grin. You pressed your cheek against the wall, trying to look back at him. Billy’s hands yanked on the button of your shorts and tugged them down over your ass. “Fuck, Billy,” you rasped.

His fingers traced the edges of your panties. “That why you’ve been teasin’ me lately?” he asked. He pulled them down so hard and so fast that you thought they’d rip before they reached your ankles. You kicked both pieces of clothing away. “’cause you can read my mind, you fuckin’ supe.”

“Well, that’s one perk,” you replied through a short gasp.

Billy’s hands slapped the swell of your ass. You jumped and swore and pressed your forehead against the wall. “You done bein’ a little cunt?” he asked, a grin obvious in his voice.

You couldn’t help grinning yourself. All your teasing had finally paid off. “Only if you’ll fuck me,” you said.

His hands wrapped around your hips and snapped them back against his. His cock pressed uncomfortably against your lower back. “You see what you did?” he groaned, rocking against you. He released you and fumbled with his belt, shoving his pants down his thighs. One booted foot framed yours, while the other slid under your leg and braced against the wall. His arm wrapped around your body and lifted you high enough for his cock to slip against your dripping pussy. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. “See what I did?” he smugly asked.

You tensed your crooked leg over his thigh, swearing under your breath as your balance wavered. “Do not,” you stressed, eyes rolling back as the head of his cock pushed through your entrance far too easily, “Drop me.”

“Never, love.” He snapped your hips against him, burying himself to the hilt, and groaned into your shoulder, “Fuck, what a cunt you have.”

“You talk too much, you know that?” you moaned, thumping your forehead against the wall. He lifted your leg higher. You squirmed your hands and upon freeing one, braced yourself against the wall. “Fuck, Billy!”

“I’ve gotcha,” he hissed. His hand left your chest and slapped the wall, searched for your fingers, and gripped them as he started to thrust into you, digging his fingers into your thigh to keep you steady and still. “I’ve been wonderin’ how you’d feel around my cock,” he mumbled as he picked up his pace. Your head lolled back against his shoulder, and his mouth latched onto the exposed skin. Your body jerked and jumped with every rough snap of his hips. You flipped your hand around in his grasp and held tight onto him. “Never thought you’d feel this fuckin’ good.”

“Even better on my knees,” you managed through a mewl. Pressure built between your hips as Billy adjusted his hips and pushed deeper with a new angle. His teeth dug into the flesh where your neck met your shoulder. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Or all tied up? Like a present!” You dropped your hand to your clit and matched his frantic pace with your fingers.

“And you said I can’t shut up,” he growled in your ear.

“Only way you’d make me shut up is with something in my mouth,” you shot back.

“Give you somethin’ in a bit then.” His voice was tight. You leaned back against him as you rolled your clit beneath your fingers. “Somethin’ large and thick that you can suck on.” He gasped. “Bet you’re a sight with a cock in your mouth.” Your walls clenched around him at the thought. “Fuck, love, do that again!” He bucked his hips up in a frenzy, squeezing your fingers until one of the popped. You keened in his ear and your vision swam. You clamped your walls around his cock as best as you could. Your fingers trembled over your clit and with another obscene slap of his hips against your ass you tumbled into your orgasm with a surprised squeal. Billy swore again, a loud growling sound in your ear as he pushed through your orgasm until he was following you, filling you with his hot seed and making you shiver.

You lifted your hand and slid it into his hair. “Holy shit, Billy,” you panted.

“’s not even my best performance,” he chuckled. He lifted your entwined hands and kissed the back of yours.

“No?” you asked.

He pried his fingers from your thigh and lowered your foot to the ground, peppering your shoulder with light kisses. “Not even close,” he said. Flashes of images floated through your head, making you grin wider and wider with every one. “’ll keep you busy all night, if you want.”

“I see that,” you murmured. He tilted your face towards him, watching you over your shoulder. You grinned.

#the boys #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #kinktober 2020 #smut #lemon

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

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Why Do Bad Things Happen To Hungry People?

This is my first hunger fic in a very long time. How the hell are you supposed to title these things?!

It’s also the first ever fic from the Lucyverse, as I’ve decided to call it (basically, any fics that follow the day-to-day lives of Lucy’s flatmates).

CW: hunger, overworking, getting stuck on public transport.

___

Autumn waved as she entered the coffee shop, flinching as the little bell over the door went off to announce her arrival. She glanced up at it, gesturing with her palm for it to calm down, as though it should have somehow known she wasn’t a real customer. Payton’s heart skipped a beat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and scampered away to an armchair by the window, not wanting to disturb her partner while they worked.

She was so freaking cute.

“Busy today?”

Payton tore their eyes off the back of Autumn’s head and turned to look at Jake, who had only started his supervisor shift five minutes ago. He was inspecting how much money was in the till as Payton laid out a fresh batch of muffins in the food case. The wafting scents of cinnamon and banana and chocolate were all so enticing that Payton could no longer ignore the fact that they’d had to work through lunch. Going an afternoon without food had left them with an ache in their stomach that had only been aggravated more by the stress of keeping the constant stream of customers satisfied. It had rained unexpectedly all afternoon, which had sent floods of park visitors running for shelter and warm drinks.

“Very,” Payton replied to Jake. “I don’t think we had any free tables for about four hours. We barely had time to wipe them down between customers.”

“Christ,” Jake grumbled, closing the till. “And you managed okay, even though Stephen called in sick?”

Payton gestured around themself, displaying the fact that nothing appeared to have burned down or crumbled. Part of them wanted to complain further about the toll the day had taken on them, but it felt better to just act confident about it. “Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“They should be paying you as a supervisor, you know,” Jake said. “I’ll talk to Anne about interviewing you.”

“Really? That would – that would be really cool.” Payton blushed, partly from the praise from their superior, but mostly because their stomach chose that moment to twist inside of them, releasing a long, rumbling growl. The music in the coffee shop was low and calming at this time of evening, but… maybe it would still muffle the sound?

When Jake double-glanced towards the front of Payton’s apron, it was clear that the music had muffled nothing.

“Sorry.” Payton placed a hand over their belly. “When Stephen couldn’t come, it meant I couldn’t take my lunch break.”

Jake frowned and glanced at his watch. “Your shift started at ten thirty, right? You haven’t had a break since then?”

Payton shook their head.

“Fuck it, go home. I’ll tell Anne you clocked out on time.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’ve only got another half-hour anyway, and the place is dead now.” Jake gestured to the room of thirty-six seats, of which only five were currently occupied. “Plus, your girl’s already here. No use in keeping her waiting.”

Payton was already wriggling out of their apron and heading for the door that led to the break room and lockers. “Thank you so much.”

Once they were in the break room, silence crashed over Payton like waves. The shop hadn’t been loud just now by any means, but they hadn’t been away from a din of any kind for almost ten hours. Their ears rang as they put their apron and work shoes in their locker and gulped a half-bottle of water that they found in there. The liquid hit their stomach like a solid lump of rock, but luckily it was lukewarm, and the discomfort didn’t linger for too long.

Payton didn’t linger either.

They tugged their jacket on over their buttoned shirt, wishing they’d brought something with a hood today, in case it decided to rain again before they made it to the tram. Maybe Autumn had thought to bring an umbrella, they reckoned, sighing in premature relief at the thought of her, waiting in the shop for them. They quickly pulled their headband off, brushing their dark bangs downwards and tossing the band into the locker for the next day.

As they pushed back through the door to the coffee shop, Payton felt like their feet had ceased to exist, leaving behind ankles that just floated through the air with a human body propped over them. They saw the back of Autumn’s head near the window, and they smiled to themself, momentarily forgetting the hunger and exhaustion and stress.

“See you tomorrow,” Jake called from behind the till.

Payton shot him a half-hearted salute, never slowing on their beeline to where Autumn was waiting. Well, it was less of a beeline than Payton would have liked; as though to personally inconvenience them, the coffee shop was full of tables and chairs and sofas, which needed to be manoeuvred around.

“Ooh!” Autumn exclaimed as arms snaked around her shoulders from behind the armchair. She dropped her book into her lap and reached up with one hand to tickle the back of Payton’s neck. “Hello, baby. Finished early?”

Payton mumbled an inaudible confirmation against her hair, not caring that they were probably messing up her ponytail. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Autumn said. “A little tired.”

“Me too,” Payton sighed, lifting their head but remaining slumped against the back of the armchair. They felt a gentle cramping in their stomach as they reconsidered their answer. “And hungry.”

“Huh.” Autumn reached up and tapped her book against the top of Payton’s head. The gesture was unnecessarily gentle, as though she’d hit them with something thicker than a paperback print of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. “Well, luckily for you, I’ve got all the makings of your favourite waiting in your fridge.”

Payton’s stomach clenched again, their heart lifting slightly. It had been tricky to get Lucy to agree to it, but Autumn had her own key to the apartment; not only did she call around to visit Payton so often that she might as well have lived there too, but there were often issues at home that she opted to spend the night away from.

But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Your famous sausage rolls?” Payton sank even harder against the back of the armchair, partly to be dramatic, but partly because their body literally weakened a little at the notion of Autumn’s cooking.

Autumn smiled up at them from the cushions. “Pastry’s already made. Just got to assemble and bake them. I got us some oven chips too. Oh – I forgot to check if you had any beans in the cupboard, though.”

“We’re four college students; of course we’ve got beans in the cupboard,” Payton assured her, loudly enough to disguise the fact that their stomach was growling again as they pictured the dinner they hadn’t known awaited them.

“Excellent point.” Autumn scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slipped her book inside. She smoothed down the hem of her pinafore as she stood up. “Ready to go?”

“Way beyond ready,” Payton smiled, watching her scoop up the umbrella that was resting against the arm of the chair.

***

Payton wriggled uncomfortably in a scratchy tram seat, unable to find a relaxed position where they didn’t feel painful pressure building up in their stomach. It was really starting to ache, now that there was nothing to keep Payton’s mind busy. They would have loved nothing more than to be home already, biting into the flaky pastry and warm, soft filling of Autumn’s sausage rolls and finally getting something into their cramping belly.

“You alright, baby? You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” Payton laughed. Their head was spinning just a little, and their voice was starting to sound shaky. “Sorry, I’m just very tired.”

It didn’t feel good to lie to Autumn, even if it was less a lie and more a concealment of the truth. She would never say the words out loud, but Payton knew that she thought of them as a pushover, both in matters at work and at the apartment. There were a lot of aspects of their job that she called unacceptable, and if she’d had her way, they would have quit the coffee shop by now. They had no idea how she would react if they became a shift supervisor and had to take on even more responsibilities, but Payton reckoned that was a discussion for another night when things were a little more certain.

In the meantime, it was best not to say anything about having to skip lunch.

Slipping their hands into the pockets of their open jacket, Payton subtly rubbed their middle, feeling their empty stomach roll around in distress. They tensed and held their breath, hoping to prevent any noises from emerging.

There was a sharp jerking motion as the train slowed to a stop. Autumn gasped lightly and put out a hand to stop herself from sliding forward in her seat. They both looked at each other and held the gaze for a moment before a voice crackled over the tram’s intercom.

“Apologies, folks, it’s just a minor technical issue. Service will resume shortly.”

“Shortly?” Autumn mumbled in annoyance. “Talk about vague...”

“Damn it,” Payton sighed, sinking lower in their seat and pushing their hands deeper into the pockets of their jacket. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Autumn chuckled; she was still sitting fully upright, leaning towards Payton’s seat as she tried to see up to the top of the tram. “Assumptive of you to refer to yourself as good people.”

“Not me, baby. I was talking about you.”

“Oh. Aw. Thank you.” Autumn smiled and reached out a hand, both to acknowledge Payton and to give herself some balance as she craned her neck.

The hand landed lightly on Payton’s belly, which - in their slumped position - acted as an almost-flat surface for her to lean on as she continued peering up through the carts. She was probably expecting to see tram staff coming through, explaining the situation to the passengers; what she probably wasn’t expecting was to feel rumbling movement beneath her palm, which was accompanied by a loud, pinched growl.

Payton let out a little groan too, turning their face to bury it against Autumn’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Autumn half-laughed, her eyes trained on Payton’s stomach as it vibrated under her hand again. She teasingly ran a finger between the buttons in their shirt, gesturing as though to peek under the fabric. “You hiding an angry tiger in there?”

“I told you I was hungry.”

“Yeah, but...” Autumn gasped and rubbed a wide circle across Payton’s belly as it roared again, prompting them to glance around and make sure the seats close to them hadn’t magically filled up with people in the last few seconds.

Autumn, on the other hand, had had her attention drawn away from anything to do with the tram, and towards a particular, grumbling organ. “Baby, what’d you have for lunch?”

Payton groaned again, wriggling a little further down so that their knees were pressed against the seat in front of them. They felt a red blush in their cheeks as Autumn sat back and peered down at their face.

They sighed, eyes trailing down to where Autumn’s hand was still resting on their belly. “The shop was really busy today, and the shift supervisor couldn’t come in, so I ended up working through lunch.”

Payton then held their breath again, both in anticipation of their stomach letting out another whine under Autumn’s palm, and of her response.

“You’re so good, baby.”

Payton raised their eyebrows. “Am I? You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Autumn sighed. “I obviously don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself properly, but I also wish I had your level of dedication.”

A smile played on Payton’s lips as they nudged the side of their head against Autumn’s waist. “Jake’s gonna see about getting me bumped up to supervisor.”

“And he should,” Autumn laughed, lifting her other hand to sweep Payton’s eyes out of their eyes. “You’re amazing at that job, and no one ever tells you enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Autumn leaned down to kiss the side of Payton’s head. “Just promise me that you’ll use your powers as supervisor for good. Like giving yourself lunch breaks.” She gently tapped one finger against Payton’s stomach. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Payton mumbled, burying their face as their chest fluttered. The glow of being praised and worried about lasted only a precious moment though, because there was still an empty belly in the vicinity, and it was determined not to let itself be forgotten in all the chatter.

“You’re mad at Payton though, aren’t you?” Autumn pursed her lips as she spoke to their stomach, as though she was talking to a cat. She patted her hand against Payton’s belly as it grumbled. “That’s okay, I’d be mad too, if my owner spent the day giving yummy food to customers and not me.”

The mention of food sent Payton’s thoughts drifting back towards the dinner that had been promised, and they groaned again, this time nudging their head right into Autumn’s lap. She bit her lip and glanced around at the nearby seats, once more confirming that there was nobody else in the cart.

“Comfy down there?” There was a tiny twist of irony in Autumn’s voice, but her tone was mostly genuine.

“Kind of,” Payton said, using both hands to keep Autumn’s pressed to their aching gut. They glanced up at the grey ceiling of the tram, at the darkness that lay just outside the window, hopelessness welling in their chest as their belly rolled unhappily. “Just so hungry.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I knew how long we were gonna be stuck here.”

“Me too,” Autumn sighed. “But no matter how long it takes us to get home, I’m still going to cook for you the minute we get in.”

“Mmm.” Payton smiled to themself and closed their eyes, letting go of Autumn’s hand as it began to work slow, gentle circles into their belly through their shirt. “Thank you.”

#hunger #hunger fic #hunger kink #belly kink #stomach kink #stomach noises #stomach rumbling fic #oc hunger fic #lucyverse #lucyverse payton #lucyverse autumn #my OCs #overworked #overworking #hunger whump

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years ago

Text

Morning Haze- Sam Trapani x Reader (Smut)

Fandom: Mafia Definitive Edition

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, language, semi public sex, dominant Sam ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Summary: You and Sam share a morning together relaxing...

A/N: First smut guys, very tame for my first spicy fic. But don't worry, some more exciting and dirty smut will cum... Until then, cuddle up with your own invisible Sam and enjoy!

Dedicated to: @kaiiiiiiparkerismyhusband @lolita-wolfson @mayday1284 @xxsamanthaxx @kneelingforvillains @loutino20 @levitate-gengar @dorothynerding @blackbladevika @my-blog-for-me @rammstein-obsession @octorebel @demonsouthere

---

The rising sun peeks over the edge of the horizon through your window. The light is already soaking into your bedroom, the particles in the air floating amidst the rays. You sigh in bliss. Sam sleeps peacefully beside you, head buried against the pillow. He lies on his front, his arm laying protectively over your waist. You woke up a few minutes ago, but you can't find it in you to wake up your man from his slumber. He looks so relaxed when he sleeps, free of the stress and worry that accompanies him every day. Ever since this war officially started with Morello, he's been coming home later, more tired and more bruised. He needs this rest.

Usually he wakes up with the sun, drinking his morning coffee then leaving to go to Salieri's after kissing you goodbye in bed. Today though, you've managed to convince the Don to give him the morning off. Most of the jobs happening right now take place in the afternoon or evening anyway, so it wasn’t that hard to persuade him.

Sam sifts beside you, burying his face deeper into the pillow to hide away from the sun. His arm tightens around you slightly, as does his leg which is wrapped around yours like a vine. It makes you smile. Even in his sleep, he still guards you, always worried that one day his enemies will hurt you. You reach over to run your hands soothingly down the expanses of his back, delicately stroking over his muscles. His skin is smooth but riddled with scars of all sizes, permanent dark reminders of everything he’s lived through. They make your heart ache every time you see them, unable to comprehend the pain he’s experienced.

Sometimes, you still wake up at night in cold sweat after dreaming of Sam dying, replaying the memories of him after he got shot on a whisky run at the farm. He was so weak, the closest you’ve ever seen him to dying. In your mind, those images are printed permanently with a harsh blinding ink that you just can’t seem to remove. Seeing the love of your life like a walking corpse- you can’t ever forget that.

You worry about him everytime he leaves the safe cocoon of your apartment. With every loving kiss he leaves on your lips when he leaves, will that be the last ever sweet embrace you two share if something does happen to him? Would you ever feel his arms around you again, the only place you truly feel safe? Your mind is too fickle sometimes, always plaguing you with ‘what ifs’.

“Stop worryin’ doll. I can hear you even in my sleep” Sam mumbles into the pillow, making it impossible to decipher his muffled words. You smile lightly and cuddle deeper into his side, laying your face on your hand. The other still traces his spine with feather like touches.

Sam breathes deep and lifts his head, facing towards you again. One eyelid unravels slowly, then the other, the light steelness of his eyes bright amidst his tiredness.

“Good morning” you whisper. He sighs sleepily when he sees your smile, pulling you up against his chest as he turns onto his side. He closes his eyes again and smiles when he feels you snuggle into his neck and start laying sweet little kisses there. “Good morning to you too doll. Why are you up so early? You should be passed out sleepin’ right now.”

“It’s half nine Sam, this is when I normally wake up.” His eyes shoot open and he’s moving so suddenly, you barely register it for a moment.

“Fuck. I’m gonna be late. The boss is gonna kill me.” He rises, flinging the sheets off and swinging his legs over the bed. You finally stop him just as he’s about to rise, wrapping around him. You kiss him beneath his ears as you quickly say “I’ve got you the morning off, don’t worry.” He looks back incredulously.

“Off? How did you manage to persuade the Don to give me the mornin’ off? Especially with all this crap from Morello?” You look away mischievously, pulling slightly on him so he’ll follow you back down to bed. You slip out from under him once he’s back against the pillows and lean on his chest gently. His arm slips unconsciously around you again, always wanting to keep you close. “That’s for me to know and for you to never worry about.” He opens his mouth to reply, but you press your finger against it before he can.

“Don’t fight this. You need some time away from all the stress at the bar, even if it’s only for a little while.” He reaches up and grabs hold of your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm then laying it on his chest near his heart.

“My girl’s lookin’ after me. Can I really say no to you?” He laughs throatily, sighing as he strokes your fingers, “How did you manage to persuade the Don anyway?”

“You know me honey, my powers of persuasion are unbeatable.” In reality, you just promised Sailieri that you’d make him some of your best desserts, but Sam didn’t need to know that. “Why don’t you sit outside on the balcony? I’ll make us some coffee and then I’ll meet you out there?”

He smiles lazily up at you, bringing you down for a quick, toe curling kiss that leaves you breathless. Sam smirks at your reaction. You move to the side as he rises again, leaning your chin on your hand as you watch him walk naked across the room. You can’t help but release a pleased sigh, watching the muscles in his legs move, his ass flexing . He puts on some loungey pants without any underwear then turns around, looking at you with a smouldering promise in his eyes. If the kiss and this is anything to go by, Sam is definitely in a romantic mood.

“Did your mama not teach you to stare?” He smirks jokingly, throwing his head back laughing when he sees your mock offended expression. You roll up onto your knees, your hands moving to your hips. You try to look at him angrily, but you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face.

“Do you really have the cheek to say that when you happily watch me undress every evening? It’s not very gentlemanly of you to treat a lady in such a way.” You smirk at him playfully. Sam looks at you from the hood of his eyes, slowly walking back towards you. He leans down on his arms so his face is level with yours. “You’re not just any lady though. You’re my lady. And I know that my girl likes being the centre of my attention” He kisses you again with intensity. One of his hands slips into your hair just below the base of your neck, tugging gently but with a force he knows you like. It makes you arch into him as his other hand traces tantilisingling down your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You follow his lips as he rises, pouting when he steps back. Sam smirks again, then strokes the side of your face gently. “Outside doll.”

You make quick work of making the coffee after throwing on a silk nightdress. The material catches against your already pebbled nipples, the intensity of Sam’s kisses still setting your body alight. Your skin feels heated, tingles running up your arms and legs. It feels like there’s electricity running through your veins, the anticipation making your hormones run riot.

Though you and Sam make love multiple times a week, it’s rare that you get to take things slow, build up excitement between you. He always gets home too late from work, needing to burn off adrenaline or find comfort with you between the sheets to rid himself of his haunting demons. You fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces, intune with each other’s desires and needs.

With Sam, you can give up control and let him take the reins, knowing you’re in safe hands. He treats you like a diamond, treasuring you and looking after you in a way you’ve never known before, while he loves you both rough and gentle, giving you all his passion and intensity, knowing you can take it. From slow lovemaking to hard fucking against the nearest piece of furninture, there’s never a moment of sexual pleasure between you where you’re not overcome with feeling. You crave his intense intimacy and protective aura, and he yearns for your sweet touches and worshiping love, making him feel like a god when his days are darkest.

As you finish making his drink, you wonder to yourself once again if it’s true after all that there are such things called soul mates. It’s the only way you can describe your unbreakable bond with Sam, one you know will only grow stronger with every pain and strife you encounter.

By the time you walk onto the balcony, your face is flushed a deep shade of pink. Sam sits on one of the lawn chairs, head back, basking in the sun as he smokes a cigarette. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed. In this moment, he looks more like an Adonis than the gangsta you know. You watch him silently from the door for a few breathless seconds, watching him take a strong puff of his cigarette, the veins in his arms becoming more pronounced as he moves. His lips open softly and the smoke escapes with a small exhale, rising in whispering waves until it disappears into the air. Releasing a sigh of breath, your eyes crinkle when his own unravel, growing more hazy when he notices your flushed cheeks.

You move forward and climb onto his lap, his hand grabbing your legs and pulling them over his thighs. He takes the coffee from you then using his other hand, cups your chin between his forefingers. His cigarette sits between his other fingers, the smoke slowly drifting up between your faces but you don’t mind. The smell of tobacco burning has become therapeutic to you, the smell a link to the home you’ve made with Sam. He places a chaste kiss against your lips in thanks, sighing in pleasure. Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek where you can feel his unshaven stubble. It’s rough, but you love the texture, running your hands slowly against the rough skin.

Sam breaks the kiss and leans into your palm, lifting his hand from your face to take another inhale of nicotine . He moves his head to the side to release the smoke, leaving a kiss on your palm as he does.

For the next few moments, you both just sit there, looking out onto the streets of Lost Heaven below. Up here, you feel like you’re in your own private bubble, away from all your problems, all the hate that breeds so well in this city. It’s just you and Sam, peacefully tucked away like two lovebirds. You lay against him, your head tucked underneath his neck. Everytime he takes a breath, inhaling the smoke of a cigarette, you feel his chest move against you, rocking you slightly. His hand always falls back onto your arm, softly stroking against your soft skin. You don’t speak, only bask in the comfortable silence between you. There’s nothing else to describe this but bliss.

His hand slowly begins to travel down your arm slightly, rubbing against your most sensitive spots. You shift in his lap slightly, turning your head to place your lips against the pulse in his neck. It beats a steady staccato rhythm. You place a lasting kiss there, traveling up his neck with sweet butterfly touches from your lips. Sam groans slightly, slipping his hand down to your hip.

“Open your legs for me doll.” You dutifully follow his orders, parting your thighs across his legs. His hand slowly travels between them, tracing your inner thighs before he reaches the top of your mound. He hasn’t even touched you yet, but you whine anyway, driving your hips up slightly towards his fingers. You feel his chuckle through his throat before you hear it.

“Patience doll. I’m takin’ this slow.” His fingers dance tantalizingly just above the opening of your lips, slipping slightly against the wetness that’s already gathered there.

“Sam… Please.” Your words are breathless, a whimper against his throat. He turns his head slightly, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Whadya want doll? Tell me. Use your words Y/N.”

You whine again, drawing out his name. “Sam. Touch me… Please.” He smiles against you, his other hand rising to the nape of your neck. He lifts your head up and claims your mouth with a deep kiss as his fingers slip between your folds, brushing against your clit. You cry out against his lips and his tongue slips in, tangling with your own. He brushes slow, delightfully hard swipes of his fingers against you, smirking against your lips when your hips rise again. Between kisses, he grates “You’re already so wet. Just for me.”

You are already too dazed to reply. All you can do is sit there in his lap as he builds your pleasure with his fingers alone, wetting his fingers with your need on each lazy stroke. “Sam. Honey. God, don’t stop doing that.”

“You sure? Cos I could do this too.” Two fingers move down to your entrance, swirling there until he begins to sink them into your walls. You throw your head back, moaning, your hands flying down to rest over his. You push against them, gyrating against them. Sam lets out a breathless chuckle, but amidst the roughness of his voice, you can hear how strained it is- he’s just as excited as you are. As he thrusts shallowly in and out of your pussy, your hand moves down into his lap, grabbing his shaft through his pants.

He curses, his hips bucking forward. His fingers plunge deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars. You moan loudly, and his hand holding your head quickly moves up, covering your mouth. You turn your head and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them as you move your hand harder against his cock.

As his fingers rub against you deep, his calloused thumb moves to your clit, rubbing quick circles that bring your orgasm speeding to the surface. You can feel your heart pounding, your senses tingling. You're just opening your mouth ready to cry out around his fingers as you begin tipping over the edge, but suddenly both his hands are gone, leaving you empty and desperate.

“No, no, no, Sam?! What are you doing?!” He doesn’t answer, just grabs your waist and pulls you so you're facing him. Your legs slip either side of his hips, putting you directly above his thick shaft. In an attempt to get some friction, you try to grind down on it but his grip on your hips is too tight, no doubt leaving bruises. You don’t mind them, in fact, you love it when he leaves them along your body. It gives you pleasure to no end seeing the aftermath of his yearning for you.

You finally look up at him. Sam sits there, his eyes fully blown, a dark gray that stare at you with an intensity you can’t help but be sucked into. He breathes deep, sweat dripping down his neck.

“Take me out doll.” You move quickly, nearly ripping the buttons off his pants in your haste. Once you’ve grasped his cock, you bring it out, stroking the head with your thumb. A small drop of precum oozes from the top and you helplessly catch it, bringing it to your lips to suck it off in your mouth. Sam clenches his teeth, uttering another curse.

He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you to bring you directly above his hard shaft. He keeps you held just above it, but you can feel the heat from the head, drawing you in like a magnet. Sam’s hand grasps your nape again, tilting your head down to his. After a deep, chaste kiss, he orders, his voice wrecked “Ride me Y/N. Slow. I want you to feel every inch.”

You gasp in shock, but your body is already moving, the head of his cock slipping against your lips. Your hand flies down and positions it at your entrance, then you start sinking down. Sam groans, long and deep, clutching at your waist. You try to go faster, but he quickly slaps your ass.

“Slow doll.”

“But-”

“No buts! Slow. Or you don’t get to cum.” Your orgasm is still there, bubbling beneath your surface. You want it. Desperately. Sinking slower, you shake in Sam’s hands as you feel every vein, every deep crease of his hard cock as it sinks into you. When he finally bottoms out, you sink into his chest, your mouths moulding together. He pulls you impossibly closer, his hands moving down to your ass like hot brands. Slowly, as you breathe against each other, he guides you up, driving your pussy up his shaft until he lets go, letting gravity sink you back down again. He lets out a guttural groan into your mouth as you moan, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.

As you start bouncing on him, with deep slow strokes, he moves from your lips, placing heated kisses down your neck, across your chest towards the tops of your breasts. You can already feel his breath against your nipples, hardening them even more against the silk of your gown. Sam pulls it down just enough to reveal your breasts, his lips moving to take a nipple into his mouth as his hand grabs the other, pinching it between his fingers. Between his ministrations on your breasts and the feel of his cock sliding against your walls, you're helpless to do nothing else but sit there, taking the pleasure.

You fling your head back when he thrusts up as you sink down, the friction against your sweet spot so delicious you swear you can see stars in your eyes. You can feel the sun burning against your eyelids, hear the birds flying above over the cars below, but your attention is on Sam alone. The whole town could be watching you right now, but up here, in your little cocoon, all you can feel is the overwhelming pleasure and nothing is going to interrupt it.

“Y/N, doll, shit. You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he groans against your breasts as you cry out, thrusting up harder against your pussy, “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Please… Sam, I’m so close, please!” Your voice is nothing more than a whine now.

He sinks lower on the chair so he's laying down, throwing you forward slightly. As he really begins to thrust into you now, bouncing you, his lips move back up to your own, your teeth clinking together before you kiss. You’re barely moving anymore, all you can do is take his pounding cock between your thighs. Below you, Sam is practically growling into your mouth, his hands against your skin keeping your pressed against him tightly. You're both sweating profusely, the heat of the sun blanketing your bodies, but you don’t care. You’re both too far gone into ecstasy.

Your fingers slip on his damp skin, so you grasp his hair, tugging on it. Sam groans in response, breaking the kiss to throw back his head. You collapse into his neck, clutching onto him as you take his relentless pounding. He turns his head, placing a sweet kiss against your sweaty temple, a small piece of comfort in your frantic love making. It brings you back to the brink of orgasm again, feeling your love for this man overwhelm your heart.

“Sam! You need to cover my mouth, I’m gonna come!” His hand pulls your head back above him, keeping your eyes focused on his.

“If I’m making you cum. I want you to do it saying my name.” You groan in response, trying to look away from his piercing gaze to throw back your head but he keeps you held strong. It’s deeply intimate looking into his eyes as you near your peak, your nerves alighting like wildfire. As you tip over the edge into pure ecstasy, you hear him grate “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Sam! Ah god!” you scream his name, throwing your head back to the sky. As you shake with your orgasm, squeezing around Sam’s cock, you barely register Sam's frantic thrusts. You hear him let out a brutal shout beneath you as he comes inside you, shaking against your body.

You collapse against him like a cat in the sun, snuggling into his chest when he wraps his arms around you. Against your head, you can feel his pounding heartbeat, gently swaying with his rising chest. His hand moves up to your head, pushing back some hair behind your ear. When you curl into his hand, he lets out a breathless laugh and strokes against the side of your face. You look up at him to see him smiling with his eyes closed, utterly relaxed and content. You crawl up slightly, so your head is level with his and tuck yourself into his side.

He reaches up and pulls a blanket hanging over the top of the lounger over the both of you, shielding your bodies from the sun. Once you're comfortable, he kisses you on your forehead then another longer sweeter kiss on your mouth. When he breaks away, you smile at each other like you’ve just completed a heist. Sam lies back with a content sigh, lighting another cigarette. You snuggle into his side, tracing the scars on his chest. When you get to what’s left of the bullet wound, you stroke it gently while whispering “I’m never gonna stop loving you. Worrying about you”

He turns towards you, his chin on your head“ I know doll.” He sighs, stroking the skin of your hips slowly. "I wish you didn't have to worry. I've seen many men die, forced to leave behind their families. It scares the fuck outta me that one day that might happen to you. It's wearing me out Y/N."

You look at him to see a world of pain on his face. There's a battle in his eyes, one you may never fully be able to comprehend. You reach for his hand after he stubs the cigarette, bringing his fingers to your lips. Between each kiss, you whisper " Let's leave this place then. With Tommy and Paulie too. You know they want outta this life too. We… We could finally start our own family."

He looks down at you with so much love in his eyes, you feel your heart miss a beat. "Let's do it then doll. Once this war is over. We're leaving."

------

Thanks for reading minxies💕

(Unedited)

#mafia definitive edition #mafia remake #mafia 1 #mafia #sam trapani #sam trapani x reader #sam trapani smut #writtenbyme

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s1st3r · 3 years ago

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Hi hun, I was wondering if I could get a Star Wars (clone) ship? I’m 5’1”, with blond/silverish hair that is shoulder blade length and blue eyes but one has a noticeable block of hazel in it. I wear a lot of floral prints and always enjoy “dressing up.” I’m fairly serious a majority of the time, but around my close friends I am able to let loose. I’m also known as the “mom” of my friend group because I take care of my friends and adore children. I’ve always been told that I am very mature for my age, even as a child. I’m also a hopeless romantic when given the chance. I’m very quiet when you first meet me, so people sometimes think I’m stuck up. Once they get to know me though they see that I’m am the complete opposite and am very kind and put their needs before my own. I’ve always been the type of person to struggle with my confidence, and I constantly stressing out no matter how big or small the situation is. It also takes a lot to make me mad/upset because I try to be a patient and understanding person. My main hobby is singing. I’m studying it and have always really enjoyed it. Along with that, I am obsessed with musical theater. I have seen so many shows and cannot wait to see more in the future! I also love to travel and visit new places. I enjoy being able to go out with my friends, but I also don’t mind just staying in.

Omigosh ofc!! Wowow so much to work with! Also, Hamilton is amazing am i right?!

AnYwAy

Ok so ur giving me kinda classy vibes hmmm

Your ship is...

Dogma!!

Ok so hear me out: Dogma got a lot of flack after the umbara arc, but he had no intention of being disloyal whatsoever. If anything, his devotion and trust in the jedi showed his immense loyalty to the Republic. I think he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. In any case, this would be based before the umbara arc.

Now the reason why i think this would work is because firstly, since dogma is so dogmatic (i learnt that is what his name means only a moment ago and it makes so much sense lol *face palm*), you know he’s not going to take any unnecessary risks, which is good given ur tendency to stress about him whenever he leaves to go on missions.

He likes ur classy style and ur sophisticated composure; it’s so polished. Your responsible and mature attitude relaxes him.

He does get a little confused by ur romantic advances at first since he’s obviously not accustomed to them, but he’s good at following instructions and learns very quickly how to sweep u off ur feet.

This man is loyal to the tee. There would never be a doubt in your mind that dogma loves you and is enraptured by u.

Whenever u dress up, he gets so smitten its actually adorable. Dogma always tries to act like he has everything under control, but when u walked into the room one evening - when he’s on leave - to go out for dinner together, he cant even piece a sentence together. His face goes bright red and he gets so flustered and he’s thinking“hOw DiD i EvEn GeT hEr??”. The hem of your beautiful floral dress kisses the floor as u seemingly float across the room to him with a quiet shy smile.

But if u think he’s bad when he sees u dressed up, he’s even more blown away when he hears your voice!! 🥰 He honestly doesnt know half the songs u sing, and before you, he never really listened to music (his nose was always stuck in a book). But now, u show him how to relax, how to enjoy his time every now and then. You help him unwind. Now, every time he’s on leave and comes back to see you, he asks u to sing to him while the two of u cuddle.

He realy doesn’t understand why u bother staying with him tbh, so like his work, he tries to do anything and everything to please you. He literally RESEARCHES about romance and musicals. It’s actually so sweet. And, after quite an extensive time of research, he actually starts to find himself enjoying musicals and understands ur love of romance. It makes his conversations and advances that much more earnest and its so sweet seeing the usually uptight and pragmatic man fall head over heels at ur feet.

His heart shattered for you when u expressed how much u love to travel but u cant really go anywhere because, with the war going on, it’s not really safe to travel. It sucks because its one of the few things dogma cant single handedly fix or research. So he always takes photos of the places he goes and collects little trinkets to bring back. He knows it doesnt really help, it almost rubs it in really, so that’s when he decides to exert all his effort into the war. If he can help it finish sooner, then u could be free to travel the galaxy without fear.

~ Sister

#shipping game #star wars #clone wars #tcw #the clone wars #dogma

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oiralinsanity · 5 years ago

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The Blood Drop of Subcon

Part 6

The Snatcher sat in his lounger reading one of his law books, pausing every now and then to take a sense of the time. The kid with the hat had already left some time ago to her ship, leaving Subcon Forest and its ruler some peace and quiet.

Well, somewhat. Tonight was permanently different than usual. This time, he had more to deal with than the occasional trespasser. He glanced at the newest member of the forest.

Moonjumper rocked in his hand-crafted hanging chair, still reading that book he had picked out earlier, paying no attention to the world at the moment due to the fact that this was the first time he had been a part of society in centuries. The sudden change in location placed some stress on the moon-faced spirit, and he needed some time to collect himself.

The Snatcher paused once again to take a sense of time, and then proceeded to leave his spot.

"Is there something wrong, my shadow friend?" Moonjumper spoke up, taking notice to the sudden movements around him. "You've been acting strangely for a while now."

"Ah, yes." The Snatcher answered. "It's midnight right now. That's usually when I go out and patrol my forest for trespassers and potential threats."

"And how do you usually deal with trespassers when you find them?" Moonjumper asked, summoning a red string from his finger to act as his bookmark.

"Ooh, the usual." The Snatcher said in a sing-song tone. "I set up a trap and lead them into it. When they set it off, a wall of darkness and vines will surround them and I pop out of the ground, laughing before screaming 'Fool' to scare them. I belittle them for falling into my trap before..."

The Snatcher summoned a piece of paper and a feather pen in front of Moonjumper, causing him to slightly jump in shock. "I tell them that they just got the chance of a lifetime, and that they can leave this forest alive by signing a contract and doing some jobs for me, while I hold their soul as collateral in the off chance they attempt to bail from their contractual obligations." The Snatcher chuckled. "It could be really simple, such as delivering mail to my minions, or-"

"Mail?" Moonjumper interrupted his shadow, confused by his mail comment. "Your minions still get mail?"

"Well, no." The Snatcher explained. "I actually sneak into some mailboxes and steal some of the mail, old habits die hard. It helps make my minions feel special."

"Now, back to what I was saying before you rudely interrupted me." The Snatcher coldly expressed. "It could be as simple as delivering mail to my minions, or as hard as cleaning out the well. Only thing harder than that would be sneaking into Vanessa's Manor to steal something, which only one person has managed to complete that task."

"And that was?" Moonjumper asked. To hear that only one person had managed to survive Vanessa in her own Manor and steal something from her at the same time obviously meant they had to have been very powerful to have completed such a task.

"It was that nuisance of an alien kid, Moonjumper." Snatcher groaned. "The same one who managed to defeat me twice."

Or they were small and crafty enough in sneaking past her like a little thief.

"Then, once the obligations has been fulfilled and the servant is no longer of any use to me..." The Snatcher made a loud popping sound. "Off goes their heads! I can get stuff done around the forest with no effort on my part and a free meal as well!!"

"But you made a contract with them," Moonjumper recalled. "And anytime a spirit, like you or I for example, draws up a contract with someone, the spirit is bound to following said terms and conditions of the deal once it's signed, no matter what."

"Look at the signature line and flip it over..." The Snatcher commanded his old body. He watched as Moonjumper did as he was told, and listened as the moon-faced spirit read aloud the printing on the back.

"I hereby totally agree to do this Snatcher dude's dirty work." Moonjumper spoke. "And also absolve him of all injuries I will most likely sustain from this work. Also, I'll give up my soul. No take-"

The Snatcher watched as Moonjumper began to spiral into a fit of giggles from reading what the last line had stated.

"No takey backsies." Moonjumper barely managed to let out inbetween his giggling fit. "Snatcher, are you serious with this? You managed to craft a contract that can allow a spirit to potentially bypass the legal bindings of a contract, and you decide to write something extremely childish!?"

"Well when you get your own legal contracts, you decide what you want to put on the back of it!!" The Snatcher bickered as he summoned the contract and the feather pen back into his pocket dimension. "Besides, there may have been one or two people whose souls weren't eaten in the end."

"Really?" Moonjumper asked as the two began to leave the Hollowed Tree. "Such as...?"

"Well, one person that instantly comes to mind was this witch who I had signed a contract with about five centuries ago." The Snatcher brought up. "She knew a powerful Dark Spirit when she saw one, and convinced me to become her Patron. She's the one who brews the explosive liquids I use in battle sometimes."

"The same ones used against you?" Moonjumper spoke, bringing up their previous conversation on the space ship.

"Regrettably." The Snatcher shrugged. "She told me it wasn't a good idea to use blue liquids as one of my attacks when it's one of my major weaknesses. So she had every right to laugh at me when I came to her drenched in it."

The duo fell quiet as they patrolled around Subcon Forest, keeping an eye out for any potential trespassers.

~~~

The Snatcher held his hand up, stopping his companion in his tracks.

"Why are we stopping?" Moonjumper whispered to the shadow as he pointed ahead, in which Moonjumper peered towards.

Ahead of the spirits were two balding men in blue suits, both top heavy and scared of their current surroundings.

"Mafia Goons." The Snatcher growled softly, revealing who the strange men were. "They're strong, but extremely dumb and cowardly. And they always seem to find their way here for some odd reason, despite living on an island."

"My usual meal as well." He added. "Prepare to watch and learn the hunt."

The Snatcher waved his fingers at the ground ahead of the goons, summoning a circle of shadow thorns to lie in wait, hoping to be triggered. He then pulled Moonjumper's shoulder down low to the ground so that his bright outfit would not be spotted against the dreary backdrop.

They watched as the two goons stumbled about in the forest, having no clear sense of their surroundings or what dangers lied ahead, able to hear them more clearly as they got closer to the spirits' position.

"Mafia no like dark, spooky forest." One of them spoke to the other. "Mafia have no idea how Mafia even got here."

"Mafia must find shelter." His comrade spoke, failing to notice the trap now just feet away from them. "Mafia have seen red spot on moon. Mafia knows this bad time to be out in open."

One of the Mafia Goons stepped completely into the shadow trap and sprung it, scaring his comrade. A shadowy wall, palpable to the touch, grew around the trapped goon as his frightened comrade ran off screaming.

The Mafia Goon trapped in a world of shadows, looking around for an ever-dwindling hope of an exit out of his predicament, barely noticed that one of the shadows was increasing in size.

"AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!" The loud laughter that echoed throughout the air had already frightened the Goon into submission. "FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!! YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT, YOU BLEW IT FOR YOURSELF!!"

Meanwhile, the Mafia Goon, who managed to turn tail and run off, was jumping and ducking through the underbrush of the dark forest. After watching his comrade get trapped by the dark spirit of the forest, the Goon now just wanted to go to his home on Mafia Island, jump straight under his bed covers, and call in sick for the next week.

Suddenly, his ankle got caught on something and he tripped, flying face first into the murky dirt and ruined his blue suit.

The Mafia Goon picked himself off the ground. "What caused Mafia to trip?" He spoke with anger and confusion in his voice. "Things that trip Mafia must pay for its crimes!" He bellowed as he scanned the ground, only to be frightened by the sight of what had tripped him.

A red string, glowing with mysterious dark powers, similar to the horrible tales told to him as a young boy growing up. He had to get out of here quickly, as he did not want to be lifted towards the moon.

Suddenly, red strings shot out from above and wrapped itself around the Mafia's legs, turning his fears into reality. The strings then tighten and lifted him up into the air, smacking his head on the ground in the process.

Dazed from the bump, it took the Goon a moment to regain his senses, although he immediately regretted getting them back the moment he saw what was in front of him.

"Well, well, well," The floating body in red spoke to the Goon, swaying its lower half in the movement towards him. "What do we have here? A trespasser in the woods?"

"Leave Mafia alone!" The Goon shouted at the being, swinging his fists at it in an attempt to maintain a safe distance. "Mafia will show you not to mess with-"

"Oh hoho!" The spirit laughed, interrupting the Goon. "You really think I would be deterred by your empty threats? I've seen many like you before, and let me tell you..."

Red strings began to grow from the spirit's fingertips, confirming the Goon's worst fears for the last time.

"They've all broken down to fear sooner or later." The spirit spoke sadistically before thrusting his red strings towards the now screaming Goon.

***

The Snatcher was finished making a contract with the Goon he had managed to trap, and now had his soul for later consumption. Now all he had to deal with was the second Goon, who had managed to escape with his life.

"Moonjumper!" The Snatcher shouted to his bodied companion. "Where did that other fool go?"

All The Snatcher met to his question was silence, much to his confusion. That's odd. The Snatcher thought. I could have sworn I told him to stay put.

A distant scream rang out in the forest, catching The Snatcher's attention. That sounded like one of the Mafia's! He thought as he flew towards its source.

He kinda wished he hadn't though, not after what he saw when he arrived on the scene.

"MOONJUMPER, WHAT THE FUCK!?" The Snatcher screamed at his bodied counterpart, who had his strings wrapped around and piercing what looked to be a semi-husk of the second Mafia Goon.

Moonjumper looked at The Snatcher with discontent. "I'm feeding." He spoke in a monotone voice. "How else would I have survived for all this time?"

"It also appears that I already made a bit of a name for myself." Moonjumper added in. "They spoke in fear of my distress signal. Must be from all the years I had to fish someone from this planet up for a meal."

"He was mine!" The Snatcher spoke, getting up close to Moonjumper's face. "Any trespassers in my forest, my victims! That is the rule of this territory!"

"And yet you were preoccupied with another." Moonjumper brought up, now reeling in his strings. "Besides, I just finished with my meal."

The Snatcher looked to where the Mafia Goon's husk would have been to find absolutely nothing. No body, no clothing. No trace of there ever being a second Goon. "I make sure to consume every last part of my meal to ensure a full stomach." Moonjumper explained. "Which means you don't have a body to dispose of or a mess to pick up. Like they were never there at all."

The Snatcher looked at Moonjumper in disgust. The Goon was still suppose to be his victim, according to his rules. Moonjumper would have to be punished according to the-

The Snatcher smacked himself upside the head. He forgot to make Moonjumper sign any sort of contract when he had the chance, which meant he couldn't punished the moom-faced spirit for stealing his meal.

"God dammit." The Snatcher mumbled under his breath before turning towards Moonjumper. "When's your next feeding, a year?"

"I'm not sure," Moonjumper answered. "Considering that time is strange in that white hell, I don't know how long my hunger will be satiated for."

"If you are not down with your duties, I will see you back at the tree." Moonjumper spoke as he left The Snatcher by himself, allowing the shadow to ponder over how to make living with a second dark spirit possible.

Beginning/Previous/Here/Soon

#A Hat in Time #ahit snatcher #Snatcher #ahit moonjumper #moonjumper #ahit fanfic #fanfic

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ivadeshin · 6 years ago

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Five Soda Maximum (High School AU) pt 12

(need to start from the beginning?)

Caleb helps Molly conjugate Sylvan verbs and Molly looks over Caleb’s paper, fixing his English grammar.

“It’s mostly perfect,” Molly reassures him, pen drifting down the double-spaced printout.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, floating somewhere between cloud nine and the mythical land of the Seldarine. Molly’s shoulder is pressed up to his as he edits. The warmth radiates through Caleb’s hoodie and they have been sitting like this for the last ten minutes. “I appreciate your help.”

Molly smiles and flips the page over, biting his lip. “I wish we had Infernal,” he says, continuing to scan. “My Infernal is fine. I bet Nott’s Goblin is great, too.”

Caleb thinks about it and frowns. He could have tested out of Sylvan, and then gotten out of having to take a language class - he decided to take AP Sylvan for the GPA boost and the college credit. “There are... no tests to take, to prove you already have a second language?”

“Not for the ‘unpopular’ languages,” Molly says, doing little air quotes with his free hand. “Orcish has gotten some traction and it’s available to test out of, but not all schools provide the class... Goblin and Infernal still don’t have standardized tests to prove you can speak them.”

“That is.” Caleb frowns. “Racist, I think.”

“Yup.” Molly pops the ‘p’ and sighs. “But it’s not so bad. You can get, like, government pamphlets now in those languages... they’re starting to become more used in stuff, more available.”

Caleb nods and watches Molly circle a verb and move it across the sentence with an arrow. “Scheisse,” he mutters.

“It’s okay. You always put it at the end, right?”

“Almost always,” Caleb admits. He’s looking at the print-out too, and very close - taking a risk, he lets his head drop just a little bit further, until it’s resting on Molly’s shoulder.

Molly doesn’t move for a second, and Caleb swallows and waits for ... for something to happen. Molly’s skin feels warm against his temple, and he smells great, and Caleb doesn’t want to move. Molly doesn’t end up asking him to. Doesn’t say anything, just resumes reading.

“Your - Gustav, he is a half elf.”

“Yeah.” Molly laughs, already knowing what he’s going to ask. “He speaks Sylvan with, like, the equivalent of a hick accent. He’ll help us if we really need it but he doesn’t want us all to sound like farmers.”

Caleb giggles. “Farmers!”

“There are elf farmers,” Molly says, pretending to admonish him.

“I am imagining, what is it,” Caleb laughs further, using it as an excuse to turn a little bit further into the warmth of Molly’s shoulder. He feels a few strands of hair brush against his forehead. “The famous American painting, of the farmer and his wife, with the... the big farm tool., he is holding...”

“American Gothic,” Molly says suddenly, snorting. “Yeah, and we’ve stressed Gustav to baldness, it’s not a bad likeness.”

Caleb covers his face a little. “I feel mean. He is nice.”

“Ayup,” Molly says, taking on a slow drawl. “I figure it’s about time to round up the {cows}.”

Caleb snorts.

“{I like the cows,}” Molly says, making it sound almost indecipherable with his American southern drawl.

Caleb has to lean away to fall on the grass, laughing. “Your. Your grammar is right!”

“{Do you like the cows!}” Molly shouts, louder than Caleb’s wheezes for air. “Caleb! I have a question!”

“{I like the cows,}” Caleb wheezes, curling up. Molly looms over him, excited by his collapse and trying to make it worse.

“Caleb, do you know what else they have at farms?”

“No!” Caleb curls up tighter as Molly grabs his shoulders lightly and shakes them. “No more farm!”

“They have {potaaatoes!}”

“It does not sound like that! It should never sound like that!” Caleb laughs and fake-kicks at Molly’s legs, pretending to fend him off.

“I sound authentic!” Molly insists.

“You sound like a man on a tractor!”

“I sound like an elf on a tractor!” Molly snickers as Caleb grabs at his wrists, and when Caleb pulls them off his shoulders, Molly falls forward, sitting over Caleb with his hands planted on either side of his head. Caleb stares up at him and Molly beams back down at him, panting. “I’m a great elf,” he adds.

“You are.”

Molly’s phone is vibrating behind them. Neither of them moves.

“Can I kiss you?” Molly asks. Caleb feels his heart slam against his rib cage. “Just your cheek,” he adds.

Molly’s shirt is draping down, and Caleb can see a beautiful section of lavender skin - upper arm, shoulder, chest, all heaving slightly. Caleb swallows the lump in his throat, stomach still aching from the laughter and feeling sick and wonderful all at once. “Uh-huh.”

Molly doesn’t do it at first, looking down at him, at his face and his hoodie, his mouth, finally bending down and pressing his lips chastely to Caleb’s left cheek.

“Thanks,” Molly says, and his horn jewelry jingles as he sits up and looks down at his lap. “I, um.” His tail does a weird curling thing that Caleb hasn’t seen before. “That was nice.”

“Yes,” Caleb agrees, forgetting any more complex English than that. He pushes himself up after a moment, sitting and tugging his hoodie back down where it’s ridden up at his stomach. His face hurts from smiling.

“Shit,” Molly says, looking at his phone. “Four minutes.”

“That is-” Caleb licks his lips. “That is enough time. You have Math? If you go now-”

“Yeah-” Molly wobbles to his feet, his cheekbones a beautiful shade of violet, smiling almost shyly. “Um, I’ll, I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yes,” Caleb says, already excited to see him again. “Lunch.”

Molly holds a hand up in a wave and turns to the cafeteria door, and his tail is still doing a weird shape that Caleb has definitely never seen before.

*******

(Art by the incredible @mightybucks - see it here and please compliment them on their incredible work! The perfect red jeans and the perfect red hoodie both originate from this incredible piece done by @caitercates, which I definitely haven’t had open in a tab since someone sent it to me, I definitely don’t just tab over to it on occasion and smile like a goof, nope, doesn’t happen)

#critical role #critical fic #widomauk #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf

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yourprayer · 7 years ago

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“Quitting time at the plant. Time for supper now. Time for families. Time for a cool drink on a porch. Time for the quiet rustle of leaf-laden trees that screen out the moon. And underneath it all, behind the eyes of the men, hanging invisible over the summer night, is a horror without words. For this is the stillness before storm. This is the eve of the end.”

a twilight zone inspired one shot

based on the episode “third from the sun”

this is my it fandom secret admirer gift exchange (@itfandomsecretadmirers) present for @reddiesetrichie ! i hope you enjoy this piece, and i hope this is close enough to your interests i not so sneakily asked you about (x so sorry this is late! i hate being an adult with a job asdikkfdckj

pairings: reddie, stenbrough, benverly

word count: 12.5k

warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual activity, smoking/drinking, mild depictions of violence + to avoid spoilers, i will say only that this piece centers around a fairly heavy political subject. please proceed with caution as you read as this may be upsetting to those easily upset by political turmoil. remember that this is fiction & for fun, don’t stress yourself out/upset yourself over it! i won’t be offended if you don’t read bc it is too heavy. this is in no way intended to be a proclamation of something to come (i mean only that im not trying to say i think this is going to happen; im not trying to scare you. this is just based on the episode, and that’s what it happens to be about. this was written in the 60s for the sole purpose of being an interesting and compelling piece of sci fi. im using it for the same thing) this is getting long winded but basically, if you have any questions about content before you read, shoot me an ask and i’ll tell you privately bc i don’t want to spoil the twist for anyone. i just thought it would be really fun to do a twilight zone au, but this show can be very thought provoking, sometimes in a scary way.

the twilight zone is available on hulu, netflix and cbs all access! i recommend watching the ep before (or after, if you don’t want spoilers!) reading this piece but its not necessary! heres a link to the ep free online if you have none of those services, but the picture is off center so i recommend the services over this! + the opening theme to get you in the mood!

youtube

Richie Tozier sighed, shifting his identification card from one hand to the other in impatience. The sun had just began its descent from its highest point in the sky, and the heat of the afternoon started to seep into his skin through the heavy work suit he was wearing. Why his supervisors insisted they come to the factory is full dress attire was beyond him, but it was his own fault for leaving the suit jacket on. It was quittin’ time after all; he could just take it off. Perhaps it was the nervousness and distractions of the day that made him disregard the possibility altogether.

To say his mind was not on the task at hand would be quite the understatement. He could barely count with both hands the number of pieces he’d fudged the fabrication of; his average was usually two or three, but on this day, he knew he’d reached double digits. He almost laughed to himself, catching his mind thinking of the next weekly review; his boss, red-faced and shaking, telling him off for wasting materials. It would be quite a sight, quite a sight for a laugh, if it ever came to be.

Yes, he almost laughed to himself.

Almost.

“Mills, Germ Warfare Research.” The bored voice of the gate guard cut off his wandering thoughts as he stepped forward in line. The man in front of him had his card read and his person pursued for any out of place items or (as he knew was the real protocol) smuggled machinery by the two uniformed men minding the exit from the factory grounds. No matter the department, the employees at the facility were all funneled in a single file line through the one break in the fence, each required to show their employment I.D. upon entering and exiting the property. Richie flicked his own identification card between his fingers in impatience as he waited for the man in front of him to be cleared and begin his trek to the parking lot.

The man cleared the way, and Richie stepped forward, handing his card to the guard on his left.

“Tozier, Hydrogen Armament.” He read aloud, as the guard across from him checked Richie’s name off of a numbered list on his clipboard. “You fellas are getting pretty busy up there, aren’t ya?” The guard questioned conversationally as Richie returned his card to his breast pocket.

“Very.” Richie replied curtly, not wanting to continue the conversation. He stepped out of the line, off to the side of the path of the cars. He knew he should be rushing to get to his vehicle, he knew he shouldn’t be lingering on the premises; but he also knew his supervisor, Mr. Bowers, was just a few feet away, eyeing him suspiciously. I must maintain some image of normalcy, he thought to himself. Deciding it would be best to stick with his usual habits, he reached into the same pocket his card resided in to extract a cigarette and match from their respective packets. His nervous fingers brushed his departmentally issued employee identification button, the numbers that dictated his employee profile printed largely on the face. He sighed heavily, exhaling the smoke from his first drag, attempting to quell any physical signs of his fear that could possibly be showing.

“Hold that light, will you, Tozier?” A voice from over his shoulder jarred him as he went to shake out the match. Suddenly a hand was gripped around his wrist, raising the match towards the tip of another cigarette. The mouth behind the butt and the statement belonged to none other than Bowers himself.

“Long day, wasn’t it?” Bowers said calmly, exhaling his drag as he let Richie extinguish the match. “They’ve got us going full blast, on our end.”

Richie barely dared to give him a nod, averting his gaze as he pinched the end of his cigarette and raised it to his mouth.

“It’s coming, boy.” Richie gritted his teeth at the petty nickname, one Bowers had been using to demean him ever since he’d been hired at the plant. “It’s really coming. A big one, too.” Bowers glanced around conspiratorially. “Even now, as we’re speaking, I’ll bet you anything they’re gearing up.”

Richie swallowed nervously, taking a deep pull with slightly shaking fingers.

Bowers finally looked over at Richie, making eye contact, a frightening edge to his gaze.

“Talk is forty eight hours.”

Richie felt his blood run cold.

“Wait and see if I’m wrong.” Bowers continued, an almost goading tone to his voice as Richie took another neurotic drag. “Forty eight hours, and then…” Bowers’ expression was nearing a sneer, as he raised a hand and mimicked a projectile flying. “Whoosh..” He added the sound effect, opening his closed fist like the opening flower of bomb bay doors on the bottom of a plane. Richie watched his gesture with a clenched jaw, his trepidation and anger growing as Bowers’ fingers continued to stretch open, accentuating his boss’s apathy over the situation. “Then, there goes the enemy.”

“And what are they doing in the meantime?” Richie’s temper got the better of himself, pulling the interjection from his closed teeth, even as his mind screamed at him not to speak, not to reveal his truth.

“What do you mean what are they doing?” Bowers gave him a cross look. “Retaliating, of course, though not nearly in the same fashion as us.” He gave a small, crass laugh. “Big fucking waste of time, you ask me.” Bowers took another drag of his still-lit cigarette. Richie finished his off and crushed it under his heel, trying to push all of his anger out of the bottom of his feet so as to prevent himself from putting in his two cents again. “We get ours in first, then they can’t do much.”

“The can respond, with their own ‘whoosh…’” Richie found himself speaking again, barely able to disguise the frustration and disgust in his voice, the only thing keeping him from repeating Bowers’ gesture was his tightly clenched fist, which he refused to release.

“Oh, they can.” Bowers nearly shrugged, taking another pull. “But not so accurately. Not so powerfully.”

“Then instead of losing a million people, we lose a hundred thousand.” Richie said hardly, his voice rising in anger.

“Dangerous words there Tozier.” Bowers made eye contact again, his gaze piercing. “Not a defeatist, are you?” Richie made no move to respond, only returning the look. “You better watch what you say.”

“And what I think, too.” Richie bit back with a raise of his eyebrows, challenging almost.

“And what you think.” Bowers rejoined.

Richie huffed. “Goodnight, Bowers.” He leaned in, just enough to be in Bowers’ space. “See you tomorrow?” He said pointedly.

Bowers didn’t reply as he watched Richie retreat to his vehicle.

He just... observed.

________________________________________________________________

A light, airy tune floated upstairs as Eddie Tozier (nee Kaspbrak) busied himself with his workload. He could visualize easily in his head his husband downstairs, drink in hand and hips swaying casually to the beat as he began to unwind from a long day at work. Richie would have just arrived home, car parked safely in the garage, tie possibly still yet to be undone, hands still slightly greasy from the machines as he poured his favorite scotch. Eddie smiled at the thought as the music grew a bit louder, and decided that he should make the vision become his reality.

Taking the stairs nearly two at a time, the undone top buttons of his shirt causing the collar to open a bit in the breeze his momentum caused, Eddie rushed down to greet his husband as he did every day.

He was greeted by the sight of Richie, drink in hand, record turning lazily in their player, his back to the stairs.

Two things instantly alerted Eddie that something was off. The first: Richie’s glass contained a considerably greater amount of the amber liquid than his usual. Richie had been a heavy drinker in their youth, and after a particularly nasty bout of alcohol-centered arguments Richie had given in and placed himself on a strict regimen of limitation. The second: he was not, as he always, always did, swaying to his music.

Eddie’s smile fell as he adjusted the spectacles that had been jostled on his way downstairs, pushing the center further up his nose with his middle finger. He pushed his rolled sleeves up just a bit more, a strange way of preparing himself to comfort his husband. He then approached Richie from behind, preparing his winning smile that Richie always maintained could cut through every stressor in his life.

Eddie only prayed that now, it could do its job.

“Hey there, handsome.” Eddie said kindly, sliding a hand around Richie’s waist as he tucked himself into Richie’s side.

“Hey, baby.” Richie turned to him, a pleasant but obviously forced smile plastered on his face. He pulled Eddie into a distracted kiss, setting his drink down and snaking his arms around Eddie’s middle to pull him close. “Where’s Mike?” He asked, pulling away all too soon.

“Outside, begging the new peonies to sprout.” Eddie joked. Mike was their best friend from college, housemate, and avid gardener, who had insisted on landscaping their entire yard. Richie looked towards their sliding glass door that lead to the side garden, and made a move to exit, dropping his hands from Eddie’s back.

“Oh, no you don’t. Not before our dance.” Eddie pouted, placing Richie’s hands back on his own hips and linking his around the taller man’s neck. Richie gave him a ragged smile, for a moment considering joining him in their well practiced sway, but after a moment removed Eddie’s hands and held them in his own, between their chests.

“Some other time, honey. Promise.” Richie said quietly, before releasing Eddie’s hands, picking up his glass, and crossing to the player, turning the music off.

Eddie watched in quiet awe as Richie looked again to the door, then appeared to have thought better of it before crossing the room and sitting heavily on the couch. Richie had never been able to say no to a dance.

“Rich.” Eddie said, concern written plainly on his face and in his speech, as he moved quickly to sit on the coffee table across from his worn out husband.

“Yes, dear?” Richie joked half-heartedly, placing a hand absentmindedly on Eddie’s knee as he took a sip of his drink.

“What’s going on with you?” He placed his hand on top of Richie’s, giving him a pleading look. It was unlike Richie to behave this way, but even more unlike him to admit why. Eddie steeled himself, determined to get an answer out of the man. Richie had been a bit more tense as of late, but had often been fine after a nice massage or a particularly satisfying night spent in bed. But this nervousness and distance he placed Eddie in was downright out of character, and he needed to know exactly what the cause was, so he could destroy it.

“Nothing serious, Eds.” Richie offered that same thin smile, and it set Eddie’s jaw in frustration. Just as he was about to lay into the man, Mike came in through the sliding glass door, wiping the sweat off his brow with a rag.

“Afternoon Rich, how was work?” He called over his shoulder after he spotted Richie, crossing into their kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“Work.” Richie said in a strange tone, taking another drink. “Hey, Mike?” He said after a pause, as the other man appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna invite everyone over for cards tonight. You’ll be here, right? Bill will want to see you.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, looking from Mike to Richie in confusion. They usually played cards on Fridays…

“Actually, guys, I uh…” Mike paused, taking a nervous sip of his water. “I have a date.” He said with a sheepish smile. “Maybe I could get home a little early, but..” His smile grew, obviously lost in thought of how his date might go.

“Call it off?” Richie said suddenly, worry briefly painting his features, and Eddie’s jaw all but dropped at the sight. On any other day in their normal universe where Richie was his Richie, smiling, joking, often highly inappropriate Richie, there would be congratulations and jokes about ‘making it’ and conspiratorial high-fives between him and his good friend. But here in this strange, hell universe where Richie was changing before Eddie’s very eyes into Richard Wentworth Tozier, a serious man, an alien on his couch where his husband should be, he was asking Mike to cancel a date.

“Rich, I- we’ve been planning this for awhile now, I’m very fond of her-” Mike said, rightfully flabbergasted.

“Please, Mike. I’ve had a terrible day. I’d like a night for us. Everyone, together again.” Richie pressed, giving Mike a solemn look. When he seemed hesitant, Richie extended his plea in a small voice. “Please, Mike? Just us losers.” A small smile at the end.

Eddie and Mike shared a look of concern.

“Sure, I guess.” Mike caved.

“Wunderbar.” Richie smiled, feigning his usual playfulness with his terrible German accent. Eddie noticed straight away there was no soul behind it. “Will you call everyone for me, Michael?” He asked before knocking back the rest of his drink. “I’ve got to have a private conversation with my husband upstairs, if you catch my drift.” He added a wink, some of his old energy creeping back into the conversation. Eddie watched the display in abject horror; this wasn’t Richie, this was a ghost trying on his clothing. No matter how much he tried to act like his rambunctious old self, with each attempt at humor Eddie’s worry grew.

Mike raised an eyebrow, finishing his water. “Sure I will. What time should I tell them?”

“Oh, around seven. Maybe earlier. Not before five, though.” Richie said as he stood and stretched, brushing off Eddie’s hand. Mike raised his eyebrows in confused concern and turned to use the phone. He almost reached it before he paused. “Wait, wasn’t Bill still out of town?”

“He got back this morning.” Richie replied, crossing to the fireplace and pulling another cigarette from his pack, before lighting it quickly.

“Really? I thought they were testing their aircraft all week-”

“They finished.” Richie said simply, his tone indicating the finality of the conversation. He had his back turned to both men as he took a long drag. Eddie stood, turning to look at Mike. Mike raised his eyebrow quizzically, to which Eddie responded with a shake of his head.

I’ll find out. Eddie mouthed to Mike. The other man nodded, and left to make the calls.

Richie finished about half of his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray atop their fireplace. He then turned to exit the room, but was stopped by Eddie’s hand on his arm.

“Rich-”

“I just would like a game of cards, is all.” Richie asserted, not looking at Eddie. “Take my mind off of things.”

He pulled his arm out of Eddie’s grasp, and trudged up the stairs to their room.

“Richard.” Eddie said angrily, stopping at the bottom of the stairs with his hands on his hips. The use of the full name was usually a good way for Eddie to snap his husband back into seriousness; here it was only met with a retreating back. Richie did not stop, just continued until he hit the landing and turned to enter their bedroom, finishing his drink in the process.

Eddie huffed angrily, taking a minute to steal himself before storming up the stairs after him.

Richie stood before their bureau, idly examining a few trinkets spread across its surface. He placed his glass next to a watch their good friend Stanley had given him years ago, at the bachelors party before their wedding. Eddie watched as Richie trailed his long fingers slowly over the face, as if in attempts to memorize its texture.

“Richard.” He repeated. Richie did not turn around. “What is going on?” He demanded as he closed their door.

“Just feeling my years.” Richie said quietly, his shoulders falling.

“You’re thirty seven.” Eddie folded his arms across his chest.

“Touche.” Richie laughed to himself, catching Eddie’s gaze in the mirror above the bureau. Suddenly and without warning he turned, crossing the room easily in a couple of strides, and cupping Eddie’s surprised face in his hands. “But looking at you, dear,” He paused to kiss Eddie quickly. “Your beautiful face,” Eddie rolled his eyes, face reddening, more so as Richie peppered it with kisses. “It’s just reminding me of how old I feel…” He trailed off, gazing into Eddie’s eyes, but not looking, as though his husbands face was not truly there, not looking back at him. He looked instead as though he was glancing back through a pinhole, nostalgia and want written on his features, as his eyes saw not the man in front of him, but the boy he fell in love with. He saw Eddie now as he always did then; young, freckled, glowing. Memories swirled around him abstractly, no specific events coming to mind but rather an amalgamation of the years he’d passed. He thought briefly this was what it must be to have your life flash before your eyes.

After all, he was a dying man.

Eddie watched the display in a cocktail of wonder and horror.

“Richard, I need you to tell me what’s happening.” He said in a near whisper. “I- I don’t know if it’s work, but-”

“No, no, not work.” Richie shook his head, his fondness suddenly dropping off into exasperation as he released his grip on Eddie’s face. “It’s just work, it’s fine.”

“It doesn’t fucking seem like that.” Eddie’s voice raised as Richie turned around again, a hand sliding nervously through his hair.

“It’s just work! I’m just a cog in a machine baby, just a fucking part of the whole damned thing-”

“Richard-”

“Do you know how many men it takes to build a bomb, Edward?” Richie turned back suddenly, a dangerous expression in his eye as he stared down Eddie, still not seeing him. Eddie stared back in shock, bewildered by the strange question and terrified by the expression and the use of his name. Richie never called him Edward, not even in their worst fights, just when he was joking.

“What?” He sputtered, when it seemed the question was apparently un-rhetorical.

“Hundreds. Thousands maybe. I make lugnuts all day, babe, one fucking piece. Someone else cools them down. I operate the press, that’s all I do. All the other tiny pieces and functions, all of them need another person. Construction, assembly, execution… when it’s all said and done there’s so many of us. I’m just one piece. I just pull one lever….” By the end he’d worked himself into a frenzy, hands shaking as they pulled at errant strands of his barely-controlled hair, the curls Eddie had come to love so dearly over all these years protesting angrily against the gel applied that morning. Eddie wanted to jump back to that moment, Richie sitting in his trousers on the end of their bed, shirtless and smiling as Eddie worked the stuff through his hair, jokingly trying to distract him by snapping the waistband of Eddie’s boxers as he tried in vain to control the unruly locks. He wanted to go back so badly, and hold close the man he loved before he could turn into the one he saw now, frightened and frenzied as he rambled nonsense, pacing the self same room. He could not find an answer in his mind as to why his husband had come so undone; but then, he supposed he should have seen it coming, noticed it sooner. Even in that memory of the morning, even in Richie’s light smirk as he snapped the elastic for the twelfth time and looked up at Eddie, he should have seen that heaviness in his eyes. In retrospect he could see it; for weeks now, it had been there.

“If you think of it that way,” Richie continued, more so to himself. “I’m- not solely responsible…”

“Responsible for what?” Eddie pleaded, shocked by the urgency in his own tone. “Rich, please, what is this about?”

Richie stood, one hand still on his forehead, looking off to the corner of the room.

“Please. Please speak to me.” Eddie begged, stepping closer and taking Richie’s hand in his own, using the other to make Richie look at him. “Tell me what has you so afraid. I- I can see it’s been plaguing you. For some time now.” Eddie swallowed, thoughts racing. “I’ve been- I’ve been frightened too. For awhile now. I couldn’t explain it if you asked but- there’s something in the atmosphere. Like this weight, this… wordless terror. I’ve seen it in others; especially in you. Please. Please tell me. Give it a name, Richard.” He stressed the latter, almost shaking Richie’s face as he held it in his hand, eyes searching the others for some give.

“Fear.” Richie muttered to himself as he placed his hands on Eddie’s arms, still staring at the spot on the carpet.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Rich. What is everyone so afraid of?” Eddie pleaded quietly, his hand trailing from Richie’s cheek to his chest, where his fingers brushed the button that proclaimed the numbers that dictated his husband. His Richie, complex, creative, beautiful Richie, reduced to a code. A cog in a machine.

“People are afraid because they make themselves afraid.” Richie said darkly, his tone shifting as he finally made eye contact with Eddie. His grip on the smaller mans arms tightened, and as he spoke he jostled Eddie a bit, his anger and frustration growing with each thought. “Because they do it to themselves, Edward, because they can’t just leave good enough alone. Because they have to take every inch they can possibly have, because there’s no compromise-”

“Chee, you’re frightening me-” Eddie breathed, attempting to pull Richie out of his trance with the pet name.

“Because no one makes any attempts at diplomacy anymore, because they’d rather play dice with our lives than pull their heads out of the sand-” Richie barreled on, Eddie’s feeble words falling on deaf ears as the taller man kept gripping, kept shaking him. “They’re afraid because now- now when it’s too late, far too late to change, to turn back, now they’re asking why-”

“RICHARD!” Eddie found himself shouting, shocking both of them, Richie’s anger lifting and being replaced with surprise, as he looked down at Eddie’s hands fisted in his lapels and gulped, realizing how tightly he held Eddie’s upper arms and letting go immediately, rubbing his hands over the muscles apologetically.

“Baby- I’m sorry-”

“What is this about?!” Eddie returned the jostle, desperately hoping he could shake an answer out of the man.

“I guess it’s too late for vagueness…” Richie nearly whispered, eyes roaming Eddie’s face.

Eddie huffed in frustration. “It sure fucking is.”

“It’s coming.” Richie said suddenly.

Eddie’s blood ran cold.

“No..” He breathed, feeling his knees go weak.

“It’s coming baby, sooner than anyone predicted.”

Eddie shook his head in denial, Richie’s arms around his back now the only thing holding him up.

“We have forty-eight hours.” Richie said solemnly, his eyes as grey as graves.

Eddie’s knees hit the floor.

“It- it can’t be-”

“It is.” Richie repeated, kneeling to pull Eddie back up into a standing position, his limp body refusing to cooperate.

“How- how bad?” Eddie caught his eyes, not moving, not allowing himself to be moved. Richie gathered his strength, both to haul Eddie up to the foot of the bed at least, and to say the heavier truth.

“Bad.” He said simply as he man-handled his husband to their bed. He sat down gingerly next to him, letting the smaller man rest his weight on him. “It’ll be the end… of everything. All of it. Our life as we know it… Gone. It’ll be a holocaust.”

Eddie could feel the world underneath him tipping and swirling as he tried to rationalize what Richie was saying. He knew that the situation was tense, that the enemy had their finger over the trigger-

The enemy, he scolded himself. No one is the enemy. There are no sides in a war that destroys us all.

He used what little strength he could muster to look up at Richie.

“What do we do?” He whispered, his voice shaking. He almost thought he might cry, but he was too shocked to form tears.

Richie raised a hand to cradle Eddie’s face, keeping it there so they could lock their gazes on each other, to help ground him.

“We’re getting out of here.” He said quietly, Eddie’s eyes widening. “Bill and I, we’ve devised a plan. The two of us, Mike, Bill and Stanley, Ben and Beverly and the kids too. We’re all getting out of here.”

“Where?” Eddie insisted, flabbergasted. If it was as bad as they’d been threatened, as bad as Richie had claimed, as bad as he had imagined, there’d be nowhere to go.

“I can’t tell you.” Richie said cryptically, instantly earning an expression of anger. “Baby, Eddie, I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. We’re leaving, tonight.” He squeezed the hand cupped around Eddie’s cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone. “Between midnight and one, we have to be gone. Then we’re getting out of here.” Eddie just looked at him, fear freezing him down to his bones. “You can’t say anything, to anyone. Not even Mike, or the others. Bill and Ben are the only ones who know so far, and we’ve only just told Ben. But you can’t say anything.” Richie looked deep into his eyes, and Eddie nodded robotically. “What we’re doing… it’ll be dangerous. Anyone could be- could be on to us. They could be listening-”

“Richie, hey!” Mike’s voice suddenly filled the house, causing Eddie to nearly jump out of his skin. “Bill’s here to see you!” He continued as Richie wrapped his arms protectively around his frightened lover.

“I’m coming, tell him it’ll be a minute.” Richie called back, his loud voice strange against the heavy quietness that had been with them in the room.

“Chee…” Eddie sobbed dryly into Richie’s shoulders.

“Shhh… hey, I’ve got you.” Richie mumbled, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back to soothe him. “Eds, it’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.” Eddie shook his head, shivers wracking his body as the weight of his fate set in. “Baby, I have to go talk to Bill, but I’ll be back, I’ll be right back.” He gently pulled Eddie upright, wiping away the one tear that had managed to fall. “I need you to be strong for me. For yourself.” He stressed, a hand on Eddie’s knee. “I know you can, dear, you’ve always been. We can do this.”

“I’m so- I’m so frightened, Rich.”

“I am too. But you have to trust me; Bill and I have a plan. We’re going to make it. All of us; we’ll make it.”

Eddie watched, as though underwater, as Richie leaned over and kissed his forehead, before standing and leaving the room. He watched; drowning.

________________________________________________________________

“Well, buddy, you better have some fuckin’ fantastic work stories for tonight, I had to cancel a date for this.” Mike was saying with a laugh as Richie came down the stairs. He locked eyes with Bill over Mike’s shoulder, catching the same look of thinly-veiled worry that had been staring back at him in the mirror the past few days. They nodded to each other as Mike excused himself and left the room.

“Bill.” Richie said curtly, glancing out of a window near his front door.

“Rich.” Bill rejoined, shaking his head slightly to indicate they weren’t in the clear.

“You and Stan are still coming over tonight, right? Mike got ahold of you?”

“Sure did.” Bill said nervously, almost reverting back to the boyish stutter of his youth. “Wouldn’t miss it. Stan says he’s on a winning streak.”

Richie gave a curt laugh, before raising an eyebrow questioningly. “I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it, then.” He kept his tone conversational, plain, and unconcerned.

“He’ll be taking all your chips tonight, either way.” Bill said with a fake laugh as he tugged on his earlobe. Richie got the hint, glancing toward the window again. The slight rustle of a low hanging tree branch was enough to confirm his suspicion. Glancing around for inspiration, his eyes landed on the watch on Bill’s left arm.

“Say, Bill, S’at the watch Stanley got you for your anniversary?” Richie cocked his head towards the garage door.

“Sure is, made by his father, same as yours.” Bill nodded.

“Looks like it’s speeding up again, want me to take a look?”

“Sure, sure.”

The two kept their eyes locked on any open window they passed as they made their way into the garage, where Mike had set up his gardening bench, and Eddie had built his workstation. Eddie worked at a local chinaware store making ceramic figurines, each a tiny, intricate masterpiece. Richie took a moment to admire the small delicate pieces, the wonderful figures each holding the magic that he knew exuded from Eddie’s fingertips. These figurines were one of the things Richie found himself repeatedly falling in love with over and over again. Eddie never failed to amaze him with the things he could create. Every time he set about his work he would come out the other side with a magnum opus. Of course the man was always ridiculously humble about the affair, always blushing and brushing off Richie’s praises, but when he was at the bench, back hunched, glasses on the tip of his nose and his face scrunched up in concentration, he was a God in his element, and no amount of protest would ever convince Richie to think otherwise.

The reverie was ripped from his mind at the sound of Bill closing the door, the click of the latch as it slotted into place disrupting him.

“Rich, we’ve gotta change our plans.” Bill blurted urgently.

“Not yet.” Richie mumbled, eyes still on the line of figurines scattered across the work surface, a hand raised to silence Bill. He ignored Bill’s look of urgency and crossed to the bench, a hand trailing over it’s surface, before his eyes found the answer he was searching for.

Flipping the switch for Eddie’s fine sander, he turned to face Bill with a nod. The sound of the machine filled the room, as Bill crossed over to the bench to stand with him. Richie picked up one of the tools left out on the bench and gestured for the watch, fiddling with it and pretending to fix it.

“Okay, Bill. What’s happened.” He muttered under his breath, just so that he was barely audible to Bill underneath the hum of the sander.

“The guard we paid off- he’s had his shift shortened. He contacted me just a bit ago; he’s gonna be off at eleven instead of one.” Bill basically whispered, nervously watching Richie’s hands as they fidgeted.

“So we move it up a couple hours, big deal.” Richie feigned a shrug, his skittish swallow betraying him.

“Yeah right it’s a big deal, it’s gonna be a lot harder to pull off, you know there’ll be more guards on the field-”

“And if any of those guards stop us to ask, we’ll tell them we’re your family come to see the ships you work on.” He fixed Bill with a serious, placating look, steeling himself. Bill gulped.

“You think it’ll work?”

“It’s got to.”

“Does Eddie know?”

“I’ve just told him. Stan?”

“I have a.. A plan, to tell him… roundaboutly.”

“Mike doesn’t know.”

“Beverly got it out of Ben, but they didn’t speak of it in front of the kids. As long as they were careful…”

“Let’s just keep it that way, yeah? I wasn’t gonna tell Eds, but he looked like he would have about killed me if I kept talking cryptic… Maybe Stan and Mike should just…” Richie trailed off with a sigh. “God, does it even matter now? We just need to get through the evening, and if we’re only seeing each other…”

“Your point is sound Rich, but…” Bill’s fingers flew up to his earlobe again. “We both know there’s still some risk.”

Richie nodded, looking down at the watch and tool in his hands. He set both down on the bench and instead picked up one of the figures perched there. Eddie kept a small framed photo of the two of them at their wedding, surrounded by the rest of their group of friends, on the bench near his workstation. Bill, to Eddie’s right, a proud best man, and Stanley, on Richie’s left, Bill’s counterpart at the ceremony. Next to Bill was Beverly, red hair cascading and held tight in the grip of her then eight month old daughter Amelia, her proud father Ben on Bev’s other side, drink in hand and face frozen in a beaming smile. Beside Stanley stood Mike, a flower from his garden in his lapel, the arrangements on all the tables, and the boutineers of all the attending men in the wedding party. Each of them had a look of elation shining out of their faces, from Beverly’s crooked but blindingly white teeth to Eddie’s squinted eyes behind his spectacles. The wedding had taken place during the brief period in their timeline where they’d both had glasses; just before Richie’s laser surgery and just after Eddie had jokingly tried on Richie’s specs to find he desperately needed them. Richie’s eyes behind the thick frames were magnified, and in them he saw only love. His face was turned down towards Eddie’s, watching the smaller man laugh. He remembered the jab he’d just given Eddie’s side, trying to elicit a tickle-induced giggle for the camera. Richie studied his own face more. Written plainly alongside the endless stream of affection for the boy next to him was also another fountain; one of hope, of power, of bright longing for a future. The man that had gotten married that day had done so with determination to make that lovelight last. He had sworn that day he would love Eddie until he was a dying man, but had failed to consider just how soon that could come upon him.

Next to the photo was a small collection of figures Eddie had saved at Richie’s behest, one’s Richie had insisted were his best works and should be kept at home, instead of wasted in the outside world. Richie knew Eddie had only really kept them to get Richie to stop harassing him about it, but at this moment he was damn thankful to have won that fight. The one clutched in his hand was a small, vanilla painted bear, one Eddie had made clear back in the beginning of his career. It was misshapen in some places, and the paint was faded and uneven, but it was by far Richie’s favorite piece of Eddie’s. He loved it so much mostly because of the way Eddie had beamed when he had finished it, the way he had shyly handed it over to Richie and said Chee look I finished one, the way he had literally glowed with happiness as Richie lifted him in a swirling hug, laughing and kissing his face with praise. He remembered that moment every time he glimpsed the bear that sat on the bench, or sometimes their nightstand, or on the kitchen table. It was sometimes moved around, picked up on a whim and set down absentmindedly. Over the years Richie had developed quite the habit of moving knickknacks when he was unfocused.

Richie looked down at the bear in his palm, and closed his fist around it in determination. He suddenly stuffed it in is pocket, reaching out to grab the other six that sat near it. A bird, a bouquet, a bible, a key, a bicycle, and a slim silvery-black painted miniature vinyl record Eddie had given Richie for a gift one anniversary. In the shuffle it had made its way down here, along with the others, and was now joining them in the lining of Richie’s pockets. He then picked up the frame and began detaching the back, fingers trying to prize it open as Bill watched in slight confusion.

“The plan stays the same.” Richie said, still quiet under the buzzing machine, as he freed the photo from the frame. “We do everything the same, but we leave at ten.”

Bill watched him tensely as he folded the picture and placed it in the breast pocket of the suit jacket he still wore. “Okay. I’ll tell Ben when I get home.”

“Don’t. I’ll tell him when he gets here for cards. Just make sure they’re all packed.” He tapped a finger on the outside of the pocket. “You and Stan too.”

Bill nodded, fingers slowly moving to pick up the watch.

“I’ll see you at seven.” Bill said quietly as Richie turned off the saw.

“Well, Bill, I think you should be okay, but you should have the old father in law check that out when you and Stan go up and see him next month.” Richie said loudly, his raised tone casual enough to be convincing but a bit jarring after the noise. “I’m no horologist, so it’s not gonna be a perfect fix, but it should hold up till then.”

Bill nodded as he strapped the watch back on his wrist. “Thanks Rich. We’ll be over around seven for cards. Hope you’re feeling lucky.” He fixed Richie with a pointed look before turning to exit. Richie took one last look at the bench, eyes scanning over the figures scattered across its top, before deciding not to grab more and following Bill out of the room.

He did not turn to look when he turned out the light, thankfully so. Because if he had, he would have seen the not so slyly hidden face of Henry Bowers as he turned slowly to watch the two men through the window.

________________________________________________________________

“I’ll take three.” Mike mumbled, sliding his discarded choices across the glass table to Ben, who reached into the deck to grab three new cards for him. Mike took a small sip of his scotch as he accepted them, sighing a bit to himself as though he was displeased with what he received. He then dropped a single green chip into their pile in the center. He nodded to Eddie, who was absentmindedly twirling his hand through his fingers.

“Oh, uh, just two.” He took a moment to rifle through his cards before tossing two to Ben. “How much did you put in?” He asked Mike quietly as he accepted his new cards.

“Five.”

Eddie grabbed one of his dwindling stash of green chips and added it to the pile before taking a long drink out of his own glass. They had collectively decided with a silent agreement to crack open the bottle of high dollar alcohol Eddie and Richie had kept since their wedding, citing they were saving it for a special occasion. It had been forgotten when Bill and Stanley’s marriage had rolled around, and decided against each time one of the girls was born, and had remained gathering dust in their curio cabinet since.

Richie had thought tonight was as good as any to polish it off.

“Four.” He said after a swallow of his own, sliding the cards past the pile of chips between he and Ben.

“That bad, huh?” Ben joked, grabbing the new cards for Richie with a small, nervous smile. Benjamin, bless his soul, the only one of them who was still trying to find some kind of lightness in all their intensity. Richie only responded with a non committal noise as he viewed his new hand.

“I fold.” He sighed, laying his cards down and draining his glass.

“Damn shame.” Bill tried a smirk, reaching to deposit his green chip in the pile without trading in any cards. “You were just starting to turn a profit.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll just have to settle it with me next week.” Richie chided, causing silence to fall over the table. Bill gave him a small, quizzical look, as Richie raised his eyes to look at him. They shared that look for a brief moment, before Richie’s words dawned on them and they proceeded to dissolve into laughter. Ben laughed a bit timidly, like he was unsure of whether or not he was allowed in on the joke. Beverly and Mike shared a look of utter confusion as Eddie turned white. Stanley gave Bill an incredulous look, but was unable to decipher exactly what it was that had set his husband off. Bev and Ben’s daughters, Amelia and Lillian, sat undisturbed by the commotion on the carpet, playing with dolls they had brought along boredly.

Eddie cleared his throat as Richie and Bill’s laughter turned from mirth to neurotic bursts. “Maybe we should put up the bottle.” He tried, reaching to the center of the table to replace the stopper. “Um, tea, anyone? I’ve got a pitcher of iced…”

“That sounds wonderful, Eddie.” Beverly caught his eye, attuned acutely to his skittish behavior. “I’ll come with you and get some water for the girls.” Eddie nodded his agreement and the two stood, Beverly gesturing to the girls to come with them as they entered the kitchen. The sound of clinking glasses and pouring liquid pierced the silence that remained around the men in the living room before being broken completely by Mike.

“Bathroom break.” He muttered as he stretched, before standing and leaving the room. Richie waited until he heard the click of the latch before reaching for the bottle in the center of the table, unstopping it, and pouring himself another full glass.

“We finished the calculations.” Bill said after a moment of watching Richie drink. He gestured to Stan, who pulled a small folded square of paper from his shirt pocket. Stan unfolded it and spread it out on the table where Richie could see. Ben hopped the empty seat between him and Stanley that Bev had vacated, and joined the others in looking down at the diagram.

“By we he means I did.” Stan griped. “And I’d still very much like to know what this is about.” Stan gave Richie a hard look.

“You haven’t told him?” Ben asked Bill, brow furrowed.

“Coming from the guy who let it slip to Beverly-”

“She is my wife, you can’t expect me to just-”

“And I am your husband, so please, enlighten me.” Stan cut off Ben, joining him in staring down Bill, who was too busy looking at Richie for defense.

“Go ahead.” Richie shrugged, taking another swig.

“Stan-”

“Here we are, tea for everyone.” Beverly’s voice interrupted Bill, who flipped the paper over quickly in front of him. “Benny, you’re in my seat.” She joked as she handed Ben his glass, handing the other in her hand to Stanley, who was still eyeing Bill for an explanation.

“Sorry dear, just conferring with my financial adviser here.” He joked, elbowing Stan good-naturedly. “He says I shouldn’t bet so high next round.”

“And you really shouldn’t need Stan to tell you that.” She laughed as she sat down in Ben’s old seat. “Common sense should have that covered.”

There was a small smattering of snorted laughter at that, as Eddie came into the room with more glasses in his hands, doling them out to the remaining guests. Richie declined his.

“We ready to get back to it?” Stan said pointedly, practically daring Bill to respond as the the girls resettled themselves on the couch, snuggling up with the arm rests as though they were going to nap. Bill only glanced at his husband apprehensively, appearing like a fish groping for air as he searched for his words. Thankfully he was saved by Richie, who was rifling through his cards impatiently before calling out.

“Mike! Hurry up! We’re gonna get started!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Mike sighed as he turned the corner to re-enter the room, bumping into Eddie as he tried to return to his seat. “Oh, thanks.” He muttered as he accepted the drink in Eddie’s outstretched hand. He took a seat and began conversing with Richie, while Bill and Stan carried on a mumbled but heated conversation to their left, with Bev and Ben still joking around across from them.

Leaving Eddie the only one to hear the doorbell.

He froze as the small ding echoed near him. Placing his full glass on a small table in the entryway, he walked as if in a daze to their front door, not bothering to look through the peephole before flicking the lock.

“Hello-?” He said as he swung the door open, his intended end to the sentence bottoming out along with his stomach.

“Why, hello there Mr. Kaspbrak. Lovely evening isn’t it?”

The sneering face of Henry Bowers greeted him from his darkened doorway, the streetlight of their cul de sac illuminating him from behind and casting an eerie glow around his silhouette.

“Mr. Bowers…” Eddie barely managed, voice wavering as he tried to pull in a breath.

“Say, is your boy home? I have some business to discuss with him.” Henry said casually as he removed his hat.

Eddie turned to look at his friends, all distracted around the table.

“Richard?” He said in a small voice.

Richie turned to look at him over his shoulder, as well as a few of the others, whose faces all dropped as soon as they took in the sight before them.

“Mr. Bowers is here to see you.” Eddie continued, gripping the knob of the still open door as though it were a lifeline.

Richie’s curious expression was instantly replaced by one of white faced anger. He’d become no stranger to seeing Bowers at work, hell, the man was one of his superiors, he had to interact with him regularly. But it was another thing entirely for him to enter his home, as he was doing now.

They could all feel it, the memories of their youth coagulating like sludge as Bowers casually trudged across the carpet, stopping between Bill and Richie, who sat with the diagram face down between them and identical expressions of distaste as they looked up at the man. Eddie remained frozen at the door, unable to make himself move enough to swing it closed.

“Well, what have we here? A little game of cards, huh Tozier?” Henry said with a smile as he set his hat on the table, over top of the paper.

“Just a few rounds.” Richie forced himself to say, keeping his gaze on the man in front of him, no matter how much he wanted to check on his husband, still frozen at the door. He felt his blood boiling and singing under his skin, his rage over Bowers having the audacity to enter his home just barely being overridden by his terror of their plot being discovered. If Henry somehow caught them in the act, or reported them…

They’d watch the world burn from a prison cell.

He settled for clearing his throat. “Would you care for a drink?” He tried to sound as hospitable as he could.

“That would be excellent.” Henry smiled down at Richie, before turning to look at Eddie. “Does your Eddie here still make that wonderful tea?”

Eddie’s color went yellow as Richie’s jaw clenched, seething at the use of the name.

“He does. I’ll get you a glass.” Richie made to stand.

“Nonsense, he’s got it covered. Isn’t that right, Eddie?” Henry said sharply, eyes locked with Richie’s, who still sat because Henry was now far too much in his space to allow him room to stand.

Eddie stood frozen at the door, his mind fighting a million battles (first and foremost, stopping him from running out the open door altogether) before clicking back on again.

“I’ll be right back with a glass.” He closed the door, composing himself. He caught eye contact with Mike, who had been monitoring him with care. They shared their look, one perfected over many years of friendship and caring for each other, Mike’s raised eyebrow an unspoken question.

Eddie shook his head no, before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Nice night.” Henry mused as the group watched he and Richie with trepidation. The girls were settled on the couch, grateful they had gone unnoticed and hoping it would continue. Every once in awhile Ben would steal a glance at them, praying (as much as it hurt him to do so) that Henry’s attentions would stay focused on Eddie. He subconsciously reached a hand down to touch the faint scar that remained on his stomach, and remembered.

“It is indeed.” Richie responded mechanically.

“It’s a night for a tall drink on a porch. And sleep. Nothing else.” Henry gave Richie a pointed look.

“Right you are.” Bill said suddenly, trying to deflect the conversation as he watched Richie’s nostrils flare, sensing his friend’s anger was on a precipice. “Stanley and I are just about ready to head home and do just that.” Bill patted Stan’s leg, but left his hand there, hoping it would help comfort his partner, whose worry was plain. “I’ve been up north all week testing an aircraft, so I’d like to call it an early night. Haven’t gotten much sleep recently.”

“Is that aircraft the one we’ve been hearing about over in operations? The one they’ve said’s capable of even possibly leaving the atmosphere?” Henry questioned him with a raise of his brows.

“That’s uh, that’s the goal. Eventually.” Bill swallowed. “But we’re really not even close to that part yet. It’s mostly been about keeping her in the air.” He said with a timid laugh.

Eddie entered the room again, glass in hand, which was trembling as he crossed the space to give it to Henry. He reached out, slowly, doing his best to quell his quaking nerves as he extended the cup.

“Here you are.” He said, barely making eye contact with the man.

Despite his best effort, Henry took notice of his shaking hand.

“Say, Eddie, you’re a little nervous there.” Henry joked, reaching to accept the cup with one hand, the other coming up to wrap around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie’s hand shook violently, his frayed nerves betraying him. Henry removed the cup from his hold completely, the other hand turning Eddie’s arm just so, so that the jagged scar on his forearm was staring up at them. “You’re very nervous.”

Richie watched the exchange as though through a tunnel, his vision red. His mind filled to the brim with violent memories, each pulling more and more seedlings of anger out of his subconscious.

Thankfully Stanley, ever the observant friend, intervened before Richie could do something brash.

“He’s only upset over how much of their vacation money Richie’s lost to us tonight.” Stan joked. “Bill and I have been making a clean sweep.”

“I can attest to that.” Ben joined in, giving Richie a placating look. Richie missed it, his eyes locked on the hand still closed around his husband’s wrist.

“But we won’t settle it out tonight.” Bill said, looking up at Henry’s back. Bill had never been afraid to look the man in the eye, no matter how much he had tortured their ragtag gang. He only wished now he had the opportunity to. Bowers was still facing away from him, attention fully turned to the small man trapped in his grip, who was gazing at his face like it was a theatre screen displaying a particularly sickening sequence.

All his life Bill had sworn to keep any need for that expression from ever touching his friends.

“Next week. I want to give Richie here another shot.” He continued, urging the man with all his mind power to turn around.

“Next week?” Bowers turned just slightly to look at Bill over his shoulder, not releasing Eddie’s hand. “You certainly plan ahead.”

Bill swallowed, refusing to address the menacing intent in the statement. “A week? Nonsense. We play cards on a regular basis.”

“Shame you aren’t settling it tonight.” Henry shrugged. “A lot can happen in a week.”

Henry made eye contact with Richie.

“A lot can happen in forty eight hours.”

Bill’s stomach dropped.

“Not much that can sway me from collecting.” Bill managed a skittish laugh. “Though I’m sure Richie would take the gamble on that.”

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d think Mr. Tozier here would gamble on most anything.”

Bower’s kept his eyes locked on Richie’s, his hand tightening almost imperceptibly around Eddie’s wrist.

Almost.

“Well.” The hand finally released, falling to Henry’s side. “I’d better head on home. Nice evening for a bit of a walk.” He raised the glass he had been holding and downed it quickly. He replaced it on the table, lifting his hat, his eyes on the paper underneath it. He made as if to scoop it up, but it was quickly snatched by Stanley.

“Better not lose this. I’d rather get my payment from Rich in full. He’ll swindle me, I have no doubt.” He tried to joke, but the power of it died out.

“Keep an eye on him then, lads.” Henry smiled, placing his hat back on as he turned, stopping to step even closer into Eddie’s space. “Have a good evening, Eddie.” He said lowly, eyes boring into the smaller man, who was nearly quaking. Bowers then turned fully to exit, finally stepping away from the table.

“I’ll walk you out.” Richie muttered, more so to the table than Bowers, as he stood quickly and followed the man to the door.

Henry stopped once the front door had been opened and he was stood on the porch.

“I’ll see you at the factory tomorrow?” He said pointedly, glancing down the street.

“Of course.” Richie said mechanically, imagining himself slamming the door repeatedly on the parts of Bowers that still remained in its path.

“Clear night.” Henry said as he looked up at the sky, a smattering of stars visible beyond the haze of the streetlights. He paused for a beat, clearly taking his time and enjoying letting Richie stew. He knew what his superior was doing; he got the message he was sending loud and clear. What Bower’s didn’t understand, however, was just how stubborn Richie could be. “Good night for stargazing.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Richie said quietly.

“Ever think about what it would be like? To be out in the beyond, among those stars? If there’s a life out there?” Bowers took out a cigarette and lit it.

“It’s crossed my mind once or twice.”

“Yeah.” He took a drag. “I don’t doubt it.”

With one last glance up at the sky, he walked away, a trail of smoke following him down the street.

Richie waited until the man had turned a corner before ducking back inside, slamming and locking the door. His friends had remained frozen in their places, listening intently to see if they could hear the hushed conversation.

Eddie still stood, frozen in the same place, his wrist held close to his chest and his face vacant. Richie turned, his back against the door, sighing as the tension dropped away in waves. After a moment the two made eye contact, Eddie’s awareness returning to him, before appearing as though he would burst into tears in that moment. Richie rushed forward, pulling his lover into his arms. He wound an arm around Eddie’s middle, the other coming up to cradle the back of his head and card lightly through his hair. Beverly watched the exchange for a moment before turning to Ben, and in one swift movement they had both arisen and crossed the room to check on the girls, who looked frightened and bewildered. Stan and Bill were holding each others hands in a death grip, while Mike looked at them imploringly for an explanation. When it seemed none would come, he spoke.

“Eddie, are you alright?” Mike stood, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he stayed wrapped in Richie’s arms. Eddie simply shook his head, face still buried in Richie’s chest. Richie stroked a hand through his hair, whispering encouragements occasionally as Eddie trembled. Mike rubbed a small circle with his thumb, sighing in frustration. “Anyone want to tell me why Henry Bowers was just in your house?” He looked at Richie, Bill, and even Ben behind him who all looked guilty. The three of them shared another look with each other before Richie spoke.

“The time is now.”

“The time for what, exactly?” Mike pressed, taking caution not to tighten his hold on Eddie’s shoulder in frustration, concentrating on keeping the touch comforting.

“Mike, I’m sorry, we should have told you sooner about this. We were trying to keep it as quiet as possible, so we figured the least of us that knew the better, but we’re leaving.”

“Leaving? Leaving where?”

“Far from here. Look, we don’t really have time to get into the details, but Ben and Bill and I have been planning this for a few months now. We’ve bribed a lot of people over at the factory, we’ve got a ship filled with supplies waiting for us, and we’re getting in it, tonight.” Richie rubbed his hands over Eddie’s back, hoping to help the man compose himself. “We have to go soon, because if there’s one thing I know for sure, that was no coincidence. I think Bowers is on to us.”

“Rich, this is a lot-”

“I’ll say.” Stan cut in, looking angry. “You didn’t think to let us all in on this?”

“It was to keep you safe-” Bill tried defending himself, still gripping Stanley’s hand.

“What I don’t understand,” Mike said loudly, commanding the conversation again. “Is why it’s got to be tonight.”

“I think you know why.” Eddie said quietly, voice muffled by Richie’s suit jacket.

Beverly went white, Lillian clutched in her arms.

“It’s coming.” She looked at Ben, who nodded.

Mike’s anger dropped, fear replacing it instantly.

“How long?”

“Bowers didn’t pick an arbitrary number.” Eddie said bitterly, standing up straight, wiping quickly at tear tracks down his cheeks.

The room remained silent for a moment as the severity of the situation sunk into the adults. Richie silently fussed over Eddie, wiping his face and fixing his hair, occasionally dropping a kiss on his forehead as Eddie gathered himself.

Bill eventually broke the silence.

“We should head out now. I’m not sure how much time we’ll have before-”

He was cut off by the tone of the house phone.

It rang loudly from the corner, its shrill tone cutting to the core of the frightened adults, sending shock waves back into Eddie as he looked at Richie, fear plain on his face. He shook his head quickly.

“Don’t.”

“Eds, I’ve gotta answer it.”

“Don’t, let’s just go.” He pleaded. Richie shook his head before letting go of his husband and crossing the room to answer the phone.

“Tozier residence.” Richie said dryly. The rest of the group waited with bated breath, unable to hear the other end of the conversation. “Tonight? I’ve already gone to bed.” Richie’s eyes darted back and forth, his hand coming up to scratch his left ear, as it always did when he was trying to think of a lie. He made as if to speak again, before the dial tone sounded, signaling the end of the call. He replaced the phone slowly, heart rate increasing. “That was my work.” He addressed the room. “They’re sending a car for me. Production services wants us all in tonight.”

“We need to leave now.” Bill said, standing. “Stan, go get our bags from the car. Ben, I suggest you get the girls ready to go, you’ll follow us in yours. Mike, can you pack quickly?” Mike nodded numbly, his mind racing to struggle to accept what was happening. “Rich, go get the car started. I’ll help you pack it.” Everyone began a mad scramble through the house, collecting various items and packing them into cars. Eddie stood frozen through the chaos, eventually slowly moving to clean up the abandoned glasses left on the table. Richie found him and stopped him, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“This is foolish, isn’t it.” Eddie said dejectedly. He looked at Richie, sadness filling his eyes. “We’ll never be back here again.”

________________________________________________________________

“Here. Gate 6A.” Bill said quietly as he pointed at a diverging path in the road they had been following. Richie made a sharp right, glancing in in the rear view to make sure Ben had followed. The headlights behind him curved, hugging tight to their path without wavering. They continued along the road for a couple of tense minutes until they came upon a section of fence. Richie pulled up to it slowly, killing the engine and the lights as they approached. He looked into the rear view again as Ben swung up behind him, the headlamps illuminating the silhouettes of Stan, Mike, and Eddie in the backseat. Richie caught Eddie’s worried gaze, hoping to infuse as much courage as possible into his husband.

But as Ben’s lights clicked off, Eddie’s fearful gaze becoming shrouded in darkness, he thought perhaps he didn’t have much in the first place.

He undid his seat belt, swallowing thickly. He shared a nod with Bill, who climbed out of the passenger side. They closed their doors softly behind them as Ben emerged from the drivers side of his own car, Beverly staying inside with the nervous girls.

Ben approached the fence, fingers trailing over the thick piece of locked chain that held the opening closed. He continued to look beyond the barrier, eyes alighting on a large, circular aircraft a few hundred yards away from them on the field.

“So there it is.” He said quietly as Bill came to stand next to him.

“There it is.” He agreed, Richie joining them.

A small pinprick of light suddenly appeared from the shrouded area of black night beyond the fence, west of the aircraft.

“Is that out contact?” Richie whispered, recognizing the light as the short flash of a handheld light.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Bill nodded, turning to the car. “Stan, flash the lights, just once hun?” He whisper-yelled. Stan nodded nervously, climbing over the front seat to reach up and flash the headlights. When he sat back down, he placed a hand on Eddie’s quacking knee.

“It’s gonna be alright, Eddie.” He said calmly.

Eddie so badly wanted to believe him.

The light returned, illuminating a razor thin beam as it cut through the darkness from the same source. Instead of being a staccato beam, it remained lit, as the holder began walking towards their small group gathered on the other side of the fence. Mike could tell from the tense set of Bill’s shoulders that something was amiss in the situation, and was about to throw open the door and emerge from the car when the hand- and face- the light belonged to was thrown into relief by the new proximity.

“Evening, Mr. Tozier.”

Next to him, Eddie gave a small, terrified sob.

“You know, when I said it was a nice night for a walk, I didn’t think you would have walked this far.”

Stanley’s blood ran cold at the sound of the dry, short laugh that accompanied the statement.

Mike’s mind stopped altogether when he noticed the gun.

Eddie made another noise of fear, this one much louder, as he presumably saw it too. Bowers took notice, raising the flashlight he had in his right hand to illuminate his face, a small smile of victory playing on his lips. He slowly cocked the pistol clenched in his left. Mike had to physically restrain Eddie from leaping over him and out of the side of the car. The last thing they needed in the situation was Eddie’s brash behavior, the way he always got when his emotions were pushed.

“So here’s how this is going to go.” Henry lowered the light, sounding almost bored as he continued. “You three-” He gestured broadly at Ben, Bill, and Richie, earning a sharp intake of breath from the group as they each collectively braced themselves for the worst. “Are going to stay where you are, very quietly. You two gentlemen-” This time, he swung the light, shining it on Mike and Stanley’s faces. “Are going to get out of the car and join them.” He reached into his pocket for a small key, used it to unlock the chain, and opened the fence to step through.

Richie was fuming, every muscle in his body screaming to rush forward and tackle the man to the ground, to pulverize every possible piece of the other man until there was nothing left.

Bowers clearly noticed.

“Then, after I join our little Eddie here, you will all get in your other vehicle and follow us to the authorities.” He finished, his smile growing as he turned to Richie, his satisfaction being fed by Richie’s look of sheer rage.

“Why him, alone?” Ben said, voice unwavering.

“Because I have a strong feeling our testy Richard will try any manners of funny business. Though I’m sure those thoughts are flying right out of your head now, aren’t they?” He raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Most of them.” Richie said, his words poison through gritted teeth.

Bowers stepped closer, gun trained on Richie’s chest.

“I thought I made myself clear to you enough times today Tozier, but apparently I’ll need to remind you, bluntly.” He moved forward again, a small yell erupting from Eddie in the backseat as he attempted to scramble his way out of the seat. In a flash, Henry turned, eyes locking with Eddie’s, his hand flying up to aim, Richie rushing with a shout to throw himself in between them-

But the gun did not go off.

Richie lowered the arms thrown up to shield himself to see Bowers, pivoted from where he stood, gun raised and aimed directly at Eddie’s head, which was just visible over Richie’s shoulder. Eddie had fallen back into his seat, his arms held tightly by Mike and Stan to keep him from jumping up again (and to haul him down for cover if necessary).

“Still don’t understand, boy?” Bowers said venomously. “You’ve lost. Now if you don’t cooperate with me you’ll get your man pack in more than one piece.” He stepped closer again, the butt of the gun practically resting on Richie’s shoulder as it stayed trained on Eddie. “Is that what you want?” Henry whispered. “Would you like me to break him again?” He sneered. Instantly the memories came flooding back to Richie’s, and for that matter, all of their minds. He shivered in fear, his head pounding, and he was fourteen again, watching his best friend scream in pain as his arm was snapped, four boys much bigger than any of them pinning him down and pulling him apart. He was fifteen, staring at the strange misshapen scar as Eddie cried and languished over it, knowing he was doomed to live with it the rest of his life. He was thirteen, watching Ben stumble into the river with a gaping wound in his stomach. He was twelve, watching Beverly’s hands shake from across the cafeteria as she endured another string of insults unfairly thrown her way, her bruises stark and fresh against her skin. He was sixteen, hauling Mike away from a fight, the two of them running like their lives depended on it as Henry screamed profanities after them. He was eighteen, driving Stan at sixty miles per hour through their residential zone to the emergency room on the third night of Hanukkah. He was thirty seven, watching a gun be trained on the face of Bill, his Bill, one of his closest and most trusted allies in all his life. He was overwhelmed, completely terrified, as he felt the weight of the weapon over his shoulder. Henry would always have that power over him, he languished. All their years as children spent attempting to get out from under Henry’s hellish reign of the school yard, only for him to become Richie’s supervisor, to continue to torment him in small, destructive ways years into their adulthood. His constant jeers and jabs at Eddie, who used to come pick him up or bring him lunch, his constant need to drop into the dress shop Beverly ran just to tell her horrible, vile things, his insistence on driving slowly down the street next to Mike just to make him uncomfortable, just to put him on edge. He was overwhelmed, by all of it. The constant torment had worked.

In that moment, Richie felt like they had truly lost.

Thankfully for him, for all of them, Stanley hadn’t.

“Because if you keep pushing me-” Bowers had continued, unheard by Richie through his haze. “I will.”

Stanley curled his fingers around the door handle, silently thanking God that Richie was far enough to the side.

“If you’d like him to last the little time you have left,”

Stan pulled, ever so slightly, the latch releasing.

“I suggest you and your friends listen to my instructions, and-”

Stanley slammed the door into Henry’s side, taking extra effort to knock his knees out of place. Richie lept into action, hands immediately reaching for the gun to wrench it out of Henry’s hands. They flipped, Henry’s back hitting the car as Richie fought him in his daze. Bill and Ben erupted, Bill literally diving over the top of the car to grab Henry’s neck in a choking headlock. Ben jumped into the fray, helping Richie as he wrestled the gun from Henry’s hands, which were immediately restrained by Ben. Richie did not hesitate, disarming the gun before grasping the butt in his hand and clocking Bowers in the side of the head, knocking the man out cold. The three men panted as they let go of Henry’s limp body, pausing only for a moment to watch it slide to the ground. Richie then dropped the gun immediately, the cold metal suddenly searing his hands. Bill collected himself quickly.

“We have to go.”

Richie found himself nodding, his brain kicking into overdrive as Bill turned to pull the gate open all the way. Ben dashed back to his car, hopping in and turning it on. Richie followed suit, immediately, feeling Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, a silent need for affirmation that Richie was okay. He placed a hand over his husbands as Bill climbed back into the car, revving the engine and driving as fast as he could take it, his eyes locked on the aircraft swiftly approaching.

As soon as they hit the field, searchlights locked on them, a guards voice raising a call over the speakers as the security scrambled to meet them.

“UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES ON FIELD. UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES ON FIELD. APPREHEND IMMEDIATELY.”

Ben and Richie pulled up to the ship haphazardly, skidding to a stop and not bothering to kill the engines. Everyone scrambled to jump out of the cars, trunks thrown open. Beverly and Stanley grabbed the girls, immediately boarding the ship with them. Ben and Bill followed them, as many bags as they could carry in their hands as they ran up the small ramp of stairs leading to an opening in the craft. None of them had time to stop and process what exactly they were getting themselves into, in the most literal sense. None other than Bill had been anywhere near the machine, which looked so unlike anything they had ever seen that they couldn’t even come up with something it was akin to. Mike and Eddie grabbed what they could from their trunk as Richie checked Ben’s car for any left behind items, double checking the backseat in case the girls had left some treasured toy. Bill came back out of the craft, running to its base to detach a strange array of pipes and pumps running into the side. Eddie and Mike ran up with their bags, throwing them inside carelessly as they turned to grab more. Richie was behind them with the last from their car, handing it up. Before they could all ascend, guards came rushing from the dark, batons drawn and poised to fight. Mike pushed Eddie, who was at the top of the ramp, back up into the aircraft, as he, Richie, and Bill remained to fight off the guards. It devolved into a good old fashioned fist fight, their blows earning them more ground as the three men moved higher up the ramp. Bill hit a switch on its side that caused the steps to start ascending into the machine. He then landed a kick to the chest of the last guard, who fell off the end of the platform. He caught one last glimpse of the ground as metal came up to meet metal, and knew, heavily in his heart, it was the last time he’d see the soil of his home.

________________________________________________________________

“How are we looking?” Mike asked, looking up from the small guidebook he was holding.

“So far, so good. It’s holding steady, just like the tests.” Bill replied, eyes on a screen of data.

“Think we’ll be able to maintain that?” Stan asked the question on everyone’s minds.

“I couldn’t say for sure.” Bill answered honestly, looking up at him. “But I’m hopeful.”

Stan took a moment to process his thoughts.

“If you’re convinced, that’s enough for me.” He finally said, crossing the small space of the hull to sit on the low bench where Eddie and Richie were huddled together. On the other side Ben and Bev were sat on the floor, each with a dozing child in their laps, Ben’s slack face nodding every so often, signaling how close he was to joining them. Beverly had remained silent with her face trained on the small viewing screen the entire time they’d been flying.

“Where are we headed, anyways?” Eddie asked timidly. “It’s stars. Stars so far away…” he trailed off as he too gazed at the screen.

“See the bright one? To the right, in the corner?” Richie said, his head chin tucked over Eddie’s shoulder. The two hadn’t let go of each other since boarding. Stan and Mike shifted so that they too could look at the screen. “That’s our destination.”

“We’ve been researching it in our division.” Bill said, joining them as they all looked at the star. “It’s got life on it, like us. It’s so damn similar to our planet, it’s frightening.” He folded his arms over his chest. “We’ll get there soon enough.”

“What is it?” Bev piped up from her corner. “What’s it called?”

“It’s the third planet from the sun. It’s called… Earth.”

“That’s where we’re going.” Eddie breathed.

Richie nodded. “To a place called Earth.”

________________________________________________________________

authors notes: okay so this is OBNOXIOUSLY late to the party but im so glad this is finally done! this very much got away from me and i wrote waaaaaayyyyyy too much so here’s this whole damn ass thing lmao. anyways i rlly hope u love it and that it suits u! i got the idea and ran too too far with it. thank u so much for bein patient, i was on a long work trip this past week and a half, so getting the last couple of scenes written didn’t happen until today //: i may need to go back thru and edit but ANYWAYS !! thank u for reading and i hope yall enjoy <3 i may end up doing an anthology series of one shots based on twilight zone episodes, so if you guys are interested in that message me and beg me to do it!!! i live to please <3

tags list: @stennbrough @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @ttrxshmouth @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie @jessicarayheyman @r-u-reddiee @wyttolff @gayzier @hanscombeverly @kaspbrak-is-our-king @babybyelers @28shoes @nicoperryy

#itfandomsecretadmirers #prior.txt #prior.fic #twizoneverse #reddie #stenbrough #benverly #it 2017 #it fic

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lindafrancois · 4 years ago

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How to Stop Stress Eating: 3 Uncommon Tools for Ending Emotional Eating

All of us have plenty of stress in our lives.

After the last year we’ve had, your stress level may have quadrupled.

If you find yourself responding by “stress eating,” know that you are not alone.

One of the top issues faced by clients in our 1-on-1 Online Coaching Program is emotional or stress eating. After 2020 being all 2020 like (and 2021 having its own challenges), these episodes have only increased.

You’re not alone in this. Learn how a Nerd Fitness Coach can help.

Today, we’re going to show you exactly how we address emotional eating with our clients, including when it’s – GASP – actually okay to stress eat.

Here’s what we’ll cover in today’s guide:

What is stress eating? (a video from NF Kitchen)

What causes stress eating? (Lesson #1: Playing Detective)

How do I stop mindless eating? (Lesson #2: The Stress Response Menu)

How common is stress eating? (Lesson #3: Learning Self-Compassion)

Is it ever okay to stress eat? (Next steps)

Let’s jump right in.

What Is Stress Eating? (A Video from NF Kitchen)

youtube

The above video from Coach Justin comes from the Nerd Fitness Prime “Mindset” video series.

Justin covers three important lessons I want to highlight, but before we do that, we should ask ourselves a question:

“What exactly is stress eating?”

Stress eating is consuming food in response to negative emotions like fear, anger, or sadness.

When we stress eat, food is being used to solve a problem. Now, unless we’re actually hungry, it’s likely a problem that food itself isn’t meant to solve.

That’s stress or emotional eating.

Here’s what compounds the whole problem: stress eating itself can make us feel guilty. We often feel terrible once our spoon hits the bottom of the pint of ice cream.

This can drive more negative emotions, which can trigger even more stress eating.

And the pattern continues.

We’ll talk about ways to break this cycle in a moment, but before we do, we need to create some tools to identify it in the first place.

What Causes Stress Eating? (Lesson #1: Playing Detective)

You may have been surprised in our video above when Coach Justin gives permission to stress eat.

Counterintuitive and seemingly counterproductive, I know. But this is going to be important for two reasons.

How to Approach Stress Eating Step #1: we need to curb the guilty feelings about stress or emotional eating.

I started this guide off by highlighting the frequency of stress eating amongst our Online Coaching clients.

You are not the only one struggling with this.

Most humans do.

And robots with human-like emotions and taste buds

We’ll come back to this idea again, because ending the shame of emotional eating will be critical for moving forward.

How to Approach Stress Eating Step #1: allowing ourselves to stress eat will help us learn why we do it.

We’re going to be playing detective here, to see if we can piece apart your actions and routines.

At the end of the day, our lives are a cumulation of habits. Stress eating is one such habit.

So let’s learn about it!

To do so, we’re gonna need to record some Emotional Eating Notes.

During an episode of stress eating, it’s important to ask ourselves:

What am I doing?

What am I feeling? (Both physically and emotionally)

What am I thinking about?

What time is it?

Where am I?

Who am I with?

Ideally, we’ll start to ask yourself these questions:

An hour or two before the eating episode

Right before it

During it

Right after it

The purpose of these Emotional Eating Notes?

To look for patterns!

Perhaps you’ll notice some of the following:

“After my recent Tuesday morning conference call, when I got grilled by my company’s leadership, I grabbed some chocolate chip cookies. This happened the week before too.”

“Around 2pm, when I get the ‘afternoon slumps,’ I normally grab a Coca-Cola. This little boost gets me through the end of the day. This is almost a daily practice.”

“Last Sunday evening, when thinking about the start of the workweek, I had a couple glasses of wine. When looking back at my notes, this takes place at the end of most weekends.”

We’re looking for patterns to help us understand what drives our stress eating.

The most important thing about this process: withholding judgment.

We’re looking at our notes for clues into our psyche. Whatever we captured is okay.

If you order pizza every Thursday after talking with your overbearing mom (of course, she means well), step one is to recognize it.

Oftentimes, this awareness step alone can help shift behavior. “Oh, I’m reaching for a beer like I normally do after ending my workday. Typical Me.”

After creating some notes on what spurs our emotional eating, it’s time to think about some alternatives for coping with stress.

How Do I Stop Mindless Eating? (Lesson #2: The Stress Response Menu)

After documenting what sets off our stress eating, we need to formulate a plan on what to do when our anxiety rises.

That means it’s time to build…a Stress Response Menu!

Our Stress Response Menu will be a list of actions or activities you can do to de-stress outside of eating.

Ideally, you’ll do them before an eating episode, but they can be done during or after the fact too.

In other words, if you only realized you were stress eating when your hand reaches the bottom of the Doritos bag, no problem, you can do your stress response activity right then.

The purpose of the Stress Response Menu is to reward yourself with a small moment of self-love, whenever your anxiety levels are too much.

Here are some ideas for activities to place on your Stress Response Menu:

Close your eyes and take five deep breaths (Coach Justin’s go-to move)

Drink a large glass of water

Take a short walk

Go listen to one of your favorite songs

Do a quick stretching routine

Write in your journal

Play with your dog

Shout at the sky

The more the activity from your Stress Response Menu can match your personal goals, the better.

In other words, if you’re trying to build muscle, some push-ups might be the perfect de-stresser.

Just make sure it’s something you won’t dread doing.

A combination of a “de-stressor” and a “reward.”

This is important, as Coach Justin mentions that many of his clients only reward themselves with food. The self-love they practice only takes place in the kitchen.

Our menu above will help us develop some more options, not solely based on food.

To make the most of your Stress Response Menu:

#1) Make the activities short and easy.

You should feel confident that you can do every item on your list. So avoid activities that will take longer than 10 minutes to complete.

Also, set yourself up for success by hacking your Batcave:

If you’re going to journal when stressed, keep your diary open on your work desk.

If you’re going to drink water before any emotional eating, keep your full glass near you.

If you’re going to take a short walk, keep your kicks near the door.

Don’t set yourself up for failure by picking overly complicated or burdensome activities.

#2) Place your Stress Response Menu somewhere visible.

Once you make your list, print it out and place it in your kitchen or pantry (or wherever you typically stress eat).

You could also write out a couple of your favorite activities and attach them to your refrigerator.

If it’s right in front of you, it’ll be harder to ignore (however, it’s okay to ignore it from time to time, as we aren’t striving for perfection).

Just please don’t write it and then stick the list in the junk drawer that opens to another dimension.

You never can find anything in that drawer.

#3)Track your usage of the Stress Response Menu.

This will help us in two ways:

First, by tracking your usage, you’ll start to feel better about using the SRM. You’ll see an accumulation of all the times you successfully deployed a stress response, helping you visualize the momentum you’re building.

Second, the data will help you understand your patterns of emotional eating. Maybe five deep breaths steered you away from ice cream but the large glass of water did not. You can then use this information to update and revise your response plan.

For the first point, Coach Justin has his clients keep a “Jar of Awesome.”

Every time they have a small win in the day, like taking five deep breaths instead of chugging soda, they place a marble or small token in a jar. After a while, the jar will have a decent amount of marbles or “small wins” in it.

This will then stand as a visual reminder of all the progress being made, proof of their ongoing wins.

Want to start a “Jar of Awesome” with a NF Coach? Learn more here!

How Common Is Stress Eating? (Lesson #3: Learning Self-Compassion)

The American Psychological Association has found that about a third of Americans respond to stress with food.[1]

This research was done BEFORE our global pandemic.

So if you find yourself binging in response to the stress of our global pandemic, know that you are not alone here.

Our coaching clients, and the NF Coaches themselves, have all found themselves turning to food and alcohol for comfort during quarantine.

Heck, recently I mindlessly devoured an entire tub of Animal Crackers too. It was only when the bag was gone did I understand what just happened.

Many of us, even fitness “experts,” are prone to stress eating.

Now, don’t take this as a free pass to stress eat.

If the behavior goes against your goals, it’s something we want to work towards improving.

But there’s a reason they call it “comfort food.” Food can often be used to make us happier, pandemic or no pandemic.

And we’re all emotional bags of meat of this floating hunk of space rock, and we’re doing the best we can.

So give yourself a bit of a break, my friend.

You’re here, you’re reading, and you’re trying. That’s great!

This will bring me to my last point with our handy guide:

Is It Okay to Stress Eat? (Next Steps)

There are times when food is the perfect response to stress.

It’s something Coach Justin mentions in his video.

“Stress eating” might be appropriate if:

After a long workday, a glass of wine with cheese helps you unwind.

To celebrate the coming of the weekend, you have an ice cream party on Friday night.

The week already seems long, and it just started, “Taco Tuesday” might help you survive until Friday.

The important thing here?

“We are making a choice.”

We are choosing to deal with stress or anxiety with food. By making it an intentional activity, we can remove the guilt around emotional eating.

Food can be fine as a reward, as long as it’s us controlling the behavior, and not the food itself.

In addition, if we can recognize the action (or plan for it), we can then adjust our calories before and after and not go off the rails.

(You can calculate your recommended total daily calorie intake here, by the way!)

If it seems like you aren’t quite there yet, start with your Emotional Eating Notes and your Stress Response Menu.

Even just the process of taking notes on specific episodes of stress eating may be enough to slow down the behavior.

Remember, no matter what happens:

You are not a bad person if you stress eat.

You are not a bad person if you forget to take notes.

You are not a bad person if you ignore your Stress Response Menu.

You are not a bad person (unless you’re a Death Eater, but come on, you know what side you’re on).

If you need any help along the way, we are here for you.

We have three specific paths to continue with Nerd Fitness:

#1) Our Online Coaching program: a coaching program for busy people to help them make better food choices, stay accountable, and get healthier, permanently.

As I said before, “stress eating” is the number one issued faced by our coaching clients, so we know exactly how to help recognize and address the habit.

You can schedule a free call with our team so we can get to know you and see if our coaching program is right for you:

Our coaching program changes lives. Learn how!

#2) If you want an exact blueprint leveling up your nutrition, check out Nerd Fitness Journey! Our fun habit-building app helps you exercise more frequently, eat healthier, and level up your life (literally).

If you follow our Mindset missions, you’ll learn to de-stress while earning XP! Sah-weeeet.

Try your free trial right here:

#3) Join the Rebellion! We need good people like you in our community, the Nerd Fitness Rebellion.

Sign up in the box below to enlist and get our Rebel Starter Kit, which includes all of our “work out at home” guides, the Nerd Fitness Diet Cheat Sheet, and much more!

Get your Nerd Fitness Starter Kit

The 15 mistakes you don’t want to make.

Full guide to the most effective diet and why it works.

Complete and track your first workout today, no gym required.

Alright, I want to hear from you:

Have you been stress eating more over the last year?

Do you have any tips or tricks to interrupt the pattern?

What’s your favorite way to de-stress?

Let me know in the comments!

-Steve

P.S. If you’re struggling to keep a normal routine after the pandemic, check out How to Stay in Shape (Without Leaving the House).

###

Footnotes ( returns to text)

You can check out their report right here.

The post Blog first appeared on Nerd Fitness.

How to Stop Stress Eating: 3 Uncommon Tools for Ending Emotional Eating published first on https://dietariouspage.tumblr.com/

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georgewagner · 4 years ago

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The best backgrounds for video calls

Ever find yourself rushing to move the dirty dishes, unwashed laundry or baby pictures out of sight before your next video meeting? Now that working from home has become a more permanent situation than many of us were expecting, it’s time to make sure that the background of your work space says what it should about you.

Here are some of our favourite home office backgrounds, for video calls on Zoom, Microsoft Teams, WebEx and more.

The home office bookshelf background

Fully stocked bookshelves have become very popular among TV presenters and their guests, who want to look well-read when broadcasting from home. This bookish trend has been picked up by remote workers, too. An expert carpenter can build a bespoke bookshelf to transform even the smallest of spaces and hold your personal library nicely.

Want the scholarly look but don’t have the inventory of books to fill a whole bookshelf? How about a playful twist with library wallpaper or a wall mural with a bookcase design?

The cool home office background

Over the years we’ve seen celebrities and homeowners alike strip their wallpaper to get the rustic look of an exposed brick feature wall. It can add some character to your working space too, without making your home look too office-like.

Not all homes have the option of an exposed brick wall though. Luckily, you can recreate the brick effect with wallpaper and wall murals. Peel and stick wallpaper is an interesting option if you’re renting or don’t want to make any permanent changes.

Get the rough and ready look with the help of a painter and decorator.

The cosy home office background

Use neutral colours and warm lighting to transform your working environment into a calming, stress-free zone. By accessorising with decorative pieces such as figurines, vases and plants, you’ll help integrate your workspace into your existing home décor.

Take a look at some more of our favourite tricks for designing your home office.

The professional home office background

The clean aesthetic is a fool proof option for a professional background. Suggesting cleanliness and freshness, white is a safe colour to choose for your background. Plus, it’s easy to revamp a blank white slate with brighter accessories for a pop of colour.

A fresh coat of white paint could also help you out when it comes to selling your home. In the Rated People Home Improvement Trends Report: 2020, we found that white is the UK’s favourite colour for each room. So, you won’t have to repaint to attract potential buyers.

Bring your space to life by asking a painter and decorator to give it a lick of paint.

The simple home office background

Don’t have a spare room? Whether you’re working from your bedroom, living room or even the hallway, you can use simple décor to make your background look professional without taking up too much space. Your local handyman can put up floating shelves which you can then style with decorative file boxes, art prints and other knick knacks.

The beautiful home office background

For the more adventurous of you out there, a bright wall makes for the perfect virtual background. Following the Rated People Home Improvement Trends Report: 2020, we analysed Instagram hashtags to discover which colours are currently trending for each room in the house. Pink turned out to be the most Instagrammable colour, from dusky rose hues to bright salmon-pinks.

The modern home office background

Go for a unique virtual background and show your colleagues a bit of personality. It’s easy to create your own mural! You can apply tape and paint to design a geometric wall. Or, try using stencils and stickers to create your own wall art. It’s a great lockdown DIY job to use up those half empty pots of paint that you’ve been meaning to get rid of.

Ready to revamp your workspace with your very own video call background? Find a local tradesperson by posting your job.

House prices are rising across the UK

What to do if your home is damaged in a storm

How to adapt your workplace for coronavirus

The pros and cons of walk-in showers

How to be productive when working from home

Always know when a trades business is calling you

The post The best backgrounds for video calls appeared first on Rated People Blog.

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haechan-haedamn · 7 years ago

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I. Timid - Taeil

‘The Duality of Man’ - A Rupi Kaur Collab With @hcechans

THE LIST

“I am timid

cause falling into you

means falling out of him

and I had not prepared for that”

- forward, rupi kaur

Characters: Taeil, Johnny, Reader

Pairing: Taeil/Reader

Genre: Sad but Okay (?? idk)

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Past Abusive Relationship

Cornerstore sky lights and the buzz of a broken a/c pulsed against your eyes like a miraculous omen from above. You left him three weeks ago, but he held on like melted summer gum to the sole of your shoe, his fingertips violent but passive along the bruises of your ribs. Your sweater still smelled like alcohol, but you could barely tell, the blood crusting against the rims of your nostrils blocking out the scent like curtains drawn tight. It had been three hours since you had last seen him, his guts creating paisley wallpaper against your hotel’s structure, the iridescent puke of his bourbon pastime melting into the cracks of your tiled floors.

You were hoping he would rot.

It took twenty minutes to drive to the police station, forty-five to file a report, fifty-six to wipe the tears from your eyes, ten for the blood on your lips to dry, thirty to tell your mother what you had done, nineteen to drive here.

It was empty inside, humid with late summer memory and exhaustion, your lonesomeness only met by a sleeping worker and isles of sodium-filled packages. You wondered around blindly, one eye still swelling shut, your mind vaguely reminding you to buy bandages as you ran your fingers across the soda-machine dispensers.

You needed to wash the red off your hands, wash the bruises off your palms that still outlined your grip.

The bathroom mirror was secured to a wall mottled by inked phone numbers and small hearts, the silver shard of reflection covered in a film of something sticky. You stared at yourself, at the sweater that hung off your shoulders so that it could showcase the purple blemish that coated over your collarbones like a slather of sugar-flecked syrup. Your eyes traced the swell of your stained lips, the cut across your nose- the way your eyelashes disappeared against the dark gray bruise clouding your right eye. You looked like hell.

You left the bathroom after scrubbing at your hands for seven minutes, finally succumbing to the fact that your nail beds would stay crimson and the water would still sting no matter how hot it got. The store still looked the same, the a/c still hummed like an army of wasps, the light still glared at you like a disappointed relative asking the same questions over and over again: “You always have random bruises nowadays, when did you get so clumsy?” “When are you planning on getting married?” “Kids?” “Don’t be so rude to him, honey, you’re lucky to have him. Who else would want you?”- you never could give them the right answer.

The register was enveloped by a man’s arms, the pale coloring developing the intensity of his veins like indigo rivers against a desert. You set down the contents of your hands, leaving a mess of a half-opened box of band-aids, a large diet coke, and a package of berry starbursts against the glass countertop. You played with the edge of a lottery ticket as you whistled loudly, waiting for the man to wake up and price your purchase. You weren’t in a rush- the opposite, really- but your eyes were starting to drift closed.

A masked groan floated to you, announcing the timid stretch of arms from the clerk, his messy head rising and blinking away the stress of uncomfortable sleep. He was squinting at you, the deep richness of his eyes pooling with the liquid in his waterlines, a hand scratching through his wavy hair- mussing it more than it already was. The collar of his shirt was crooked, half-tucked under the mesh vest of his uniform and showcasing his name tag. The rectangle of plastic was pinned to his chest, a third of it covered by the remnants of a circular sticker (whatever had been printed on it had long-since faded away). You glanced over his name without much thought, catching the tail-end of a bolded –eil and not much else.

Now awake he realized the broken state of your existence, his eyes now swimming in the alertness of chilled water on a spring night, his posture rigid as he froze.

“You can ask,” you told him, but part of you wished he wouldn’t.

You pushed your items closer to him and he picked up the first thing, ringing it into the cash register as he casted glance after glance towards the blood on your nose. You scrubbed some of it away, looking at the back of your hand, distracted by the way the red flakes looked like stars against the galaxy of bruises on your wrist.

A loud beep and the scratching noise of the register pulled your eyes back to his. “I don’t know if I should,” he told you, taking the waded cash from your shaking hands.

“Neither do I.”

He nodded, turning around a picking up a package of Virginia Slims and setting them in front of you. “Do you smoke?” he asked, adding a small, silver lighter on top of the box.

“I haven’t before today,” you answered honestly, “but right now I don’t think I would mind it.”

He nodded, adding the two items to your purchases without scanning them, ripping your receipt from the dispenser and walking around the counter with your plastic bag in hand. He didn’t say much, just a quiet murmur of ‘follow me’ as he exited through the back of the convenience store. You were too tired to argue, your feet following the path of his movements without thought, your hands fisted into the pockets of your jeans.

You stood with him now, gazing out into the sporadic traffic as it trickled along, red lights appearing and disappearing like your childhood demons- like the blood that matted against your lips. You could still hear the buzz of the a/c in your ears like fog, a promise that you were still alive in the early August morning with your hair sticking to the back of your neck, your mascara melting under the weight of your tears and the warmth of the static lights that lit the gas pumps. You burnt your fingertips three times before the man lit your cigarette for you, his hands cradling yours to retrieve the shiny lighter.

You didn’t like the taste of the smoke as you took your third drag, then your fourth, but you could feel your nerve endings start to repair themselves as you relaxed. You could feel yourself start to breathe again, through the polluted cloud of gray mist that made your eyes water and your cheeks flush. You told him you didn’t like how it tasted, not looking to see the pity in his eyes.

The feeling of poor, pitiful you was already manifested in the pit of your stomach like a virus, its legs hooking deep into your appendix with envy.

“I don’t like it either,” he said, blowing out another puff and watching it disappear into a glass-covered advertisements that were plastered inside the store’s windows..

You sat down on the curb, and rested your head on your knees, allowing your eyes to close as the volatile bud hung limply between your lips. The embers cascaded into the pavement and over your legs, leaving no trace but the thin taste of weariness in your mouth and the sting on your ankles. “Why do you smoke, then?” you asked, talking around the slim.

“I don’t.”

You flipped your head around so that you were facing him, your crown still resting on your knees, your hair against the back of your hands. “Then I must be hallucinating from shock or something,” you muttered, “because it sure looks like you’re smoking.”

“Well,” he said, dragging from the orange wrapped stick again, his free hand wiping against his jean-covered leg, “I don’t usually smoke.”

“Then why are you smoking, now?”

He shrugged, a limp piece of dark honeyed-hair blocking his right eye.

“People come into this gas station a lot,” he said, rolling the cigarette between his fingertips, “and those people sometimes look like you- like they have the weight of six worlds on their shoulders- and they ask for a pack of Marlboros or Virginia Slims and they come out here and they smoke a couple. Then, they look back through that window and they wave at me before they leave.”

“That’s a lovely story with absolutely no point.”

“Patience,” he chided, turning to look at you, his head closer than you remmebered, “When they wave and get back in their cars I notice something- their hands always shake less after they leave.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s called a nicotine addiction, not some magic voodoo trick that makes the world turn better.”

“Maybe,” he pointed at your hands, “but you aren’t shaking anymore.”

You curled your hands into tight fists, pressing them into the denim that covered your calves.

“You seem too philosophical to work a dead shift at some random interstate gas-station,” you snarked, letting your cigarette bud fall from between your lips and onto the ground to flicker its gold like a beating heartbeat. The flame breathed less as the breeze blew, its death seconds away like a wish.

You grounded your heel over it, kicking away the ashes with your toe.

He chuckled slightly, making you open your eyes to see the end of his grin, the pink fullness of his mouth stretching like bubble gum. It faded quickly, just like the taste of bubble gum.

“I think you have to be a little philosophical to wait around alone, at three a.m., in a random interstate gas-station,” he commented, dropping his own cigarette on the ground and letting it die out on its own terms, the yellow fading to red fading to black. His feet stayed where they were, stretched out alongside you.

“Most philosophers have a god complex,” you said, “so I’m not sure if you want to brag.”

“I’m not bragging,” he snickered, “I’m just stating the obvious truth.”

“Sounds like something someone with a god complex would say.”

You left him at the end of July, watching his begs and pleas slip under the front door like a flash flood of insincerity. Your bag was hurting your hand from the weight of it, from how hard you gripped it- it had your life in it- two books about the Cold War, a tube of bright red lipstick, a couple sets of clothes, four hundred dollars and a pair of flip flops.

The smash of a glass bottle against a wall celebrated your departure, your car stuttering to life and your foot already pressing on the gas pedal. Your car smelt like poker chips and Jack Daniels.

It took him two weeks to find you. It took three hours to break down the door to your hotel room, his hand fisted in your hair as he pulled you to the bathroom and yelled at you. You barely heard what he said; too busy relishing in the numbness of your scalp as he pushed your face into the molded tile of the hotel floors. He left an hour later once his voice had gone hoarse and his hand got tired of holding you done- he was used to a response, used to hearing your beg for help at the dominance of his brutality. You were done giving him what he wanted.

Four days later he came back and presented you with an encore of callous vengeance, his hand on your hair again, but your face met the moth balls the molted in the hotel carpet this time. He yelled about something else this time, the words ‘slut’ and ‘cheater’ a distant memory to your clouded fear. He left again, one hour later- again. You could taste metal in your mouth, wonder about how hard you bit your tongue this time.

Three days later he came around again, finding you incompliant and risky, your gaze firm and sober. He had started yelling as he came in the door, parading around like a testosterone filled gorilla, his fist in the furniture like he was playing a mini-game. You watched him, remembering the way he used to gently say your name. He spat in your face.

His hand rose to find the back of your head, to find itself back in the bushel of hair to latch there and force you under his will, again. You told him ‘no’. He ignore you until your hand stung across his cheek like hellfire, whipping a laceration against the stubble on his chin as you remembered his laughter and the way he used to stroke your hair. He growled at you, possessed by possessing you, his hands shoving against your shoulders and forcing your back to the wall- pining you up like a picture frame of past memories where you used to eat lunch in a park during the weekends. He broke that picture frame four months ago.

He broke you two years ago.

He tried to glue your wrists to the wall like you tried to glue your relationship back together that night he drank too much whiskey and came back with a girl’s number on his chest in red ink. You screamed and spat, kicked your legs into his stomach like a child throwing a tantrum because that was just it- you were done. He shuddered back, not used to a frontal attack of vicious animosity. He didn’t recognize you- this girl with claws instead of pretty pink nails, with bared teeth and anger polluting her fear, her hands striking at him like a cobra that enjoyed playing predator. You hadn’t recognized yourself since the first night he left a bruise on your arm.

You left him face first in the tan sheets of your hotel bed, letting the bed bugs crawl into his ear canal like a silent omen of death- wishing he would sleep well. You left him and you left the old shell of yourself behind, ridding yourself of his touch as he struggled to breathe into the sweater you had left on your bed.

You drove to the police department. You called your mother. You drove to a gas station at two in the morning and smoked a pack of cigarettes with a boy named Taeil. He was the first person to meet the new you.

You still tell him that every night before you fall asleep, wrapped in the comfort of his arms as he breathed deeply- reminding you that you were alive still, that life doesn’t end when you always think it will.

The fear was present still, a dull drum that still haunted you, but it was never going to go away. You never though you would find someone again, be able to trust someone again when you stilled flinched when offered a handshake, but you hadn’t planned on smoking a Virginia Slim in August next to a boy who was patient, who didn’t ask you questions you couldn’t answer.

Falling into Taeil was easier than it should have been, but when you had been on the edge of a cliff for so long you decided jumping was the only option you had left.

FIN.

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dauntlessneil · 7 years ago

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The Gray Areas of Love

Neil Gonzales and Catherine Buhain

FOREWORD

Why is this piece of literature called “The Gray Areas of Love”? this piece of literature contains poems, short stories, narration, quotations and a lot more, where words is a medium, a channel to encrypt honest feelings on these pages. Follow the persona as they explore the gray areas of love, the areas of love wherein there is no dashing color, an area where they might feel loss, lust, depression, sadness and all the other negative energy stored up, but remember that gray is still a color, waiting to be filled up, to be mixed with different colors that will remove that ominous atmosphere.

PART 1: DESOLATION

ONE

For so long I was never really sure about my feelings, these feelings wrapped around my fragile heart. I was always confused, my mind spinning, my heart revolving, my fingers fiddling with my thoughts. This person makes me vulnerable, words don’t come out straight when I’m with him, my thoughts covered in fog, I can’t think straight. Why? Why is he the source of my pain? Why does he make me feel weak? Why do I feel this way? These questions are left unanswered, a test that I didn’t study for. I’m stuck in this desolation, for how long I ask? Another question, unanswered.

STRANGER’S WRITING

His letters are in cursive

Mine is in print

He traces my lines

I trace his words

Ink on my finger

My lips on a stranger

LOST

Don’t let me fall in deeper

I don’t want to get lost in you

TIME

I drift into the unknown

For so long, I have been alone

Floating in my dreams

As long as it seems

Time runs endlessly

For it has no end

ISOLATION

These cold sheets on my skin

Rapturing me with these soft silks

This frigid isolated room

Has held me captive for days

HOPING YOU WOULD KNOW

I’m not forcing you to love me back, I’m just waiting for you to appreciate me. I know you can’t give me the kind of love that I want, I understand that, but playing with my heart is a thing that I don’t understand. Are you aware of how much you’re affecting me? You’re making things miserable for me. I’m tired.

DRIFTING AWAY

As I start to drift into a deep sleep, you're the last thing I get to think about. What are you doing? Are you already asleep? Who are you dreaming of? Or are you awake just like me, sleepless nights, crying, craving for your touch. Or am I just delusional? Maybe you're asleep, smiling, dreaming of her. But does she want you? Will you forever drift to a deep slumber if you know you are happy in your dreams? Or will you wake up to reality, the reality where she is not yours and you are not mine.

WALL

I keep on trying to break this wall, the wall that's separating us. My heart turns to fragments as I see you building the wall up high rather than helping me break it down.

LETTER

Hey, it has been a long time since we’ve talked. I always stop these words from coming out of my mouth. You infiltrate my thoughts when I see you, I am distracted by you, pushing me away from these topics in class. I look for a grip, to hold on, to not float away into some place that I don’t know. Will you look for me if I’m lost? Or will you lead me to a trap? Know that I’m always here to listen. I miss you so, so much, take care.

UNKNOWN

I stare at the unknown

Thinking that it is a place

What is beyond that area that

I have not yet discovered

YOU

The sunrise bringing anew

But I’m still here, missing you

Songs we used to dance to

Songs we used to sing to

Songs we used to beat our hearts to

these rhythms, melody and blues

They remind me of the things I should outgrew

Maybe I missed all of the cues

Telling me to forget our milieus

But I just can't forget the love you drew

That made my heart filled with tattoos

Tattoos that I wish I could undo

Now they just remind me how you broke my heart in two

They remind me of all the things we failed to do

Words we failed to live up to

And how we failed to get through

Oh how I wish, I knew.

Maybe, I have to stop thinking what we had was true,

And start erasing the view,

Cause I’m starting to go blue,

Whenever I’m thinking of you

- CLB

OPEN

My eyes are finally open

No more words left unspoken

No more hoping

I’m just left broken

And now that I can finally see

No more reminiscing about old memories

Cause I know where I stand in your reality

You have set me free

Although it felt like I was drowning in the sea,

It soon became a clarity

That there was never a you and me

I’m done thinking

I’m done trying

I’m done crying

I’m done waiting

- CLB

VIEW

I am here, behind the room

Looking from afar, I need a zoom

I see you talking with her

Who am I to judge her