#hoping to work more on the sweatshirt soon and possible turn this into a proper cosplay

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

[randomshyperson]

hey, you :) can i request a wandaxreader christmas fic? i know it's kinda out of time lol but i just love christmas and miss it very very much. thx

Hello anon! How are you? This took me a while, but I've been kind of busy lately, hope you don’t mind. It’s sweet as you asked and it made me excited for Christmas.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The Perfect Gift

Summary: The reader tries to find the perfect gift for her best friend Wanda Maximoff during her first Christmas with the Avengers.

Words:  5.283 K    // Read on AO3

Warnings> 14+ / A bit of language and anxiety/self deprecating thoughts suggestions, but is mostly fluff, kissing and teasing.

Marks> @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

You were having a little trouble finding the ideal gift for Wanda.

Two weeks ago, you had already finished buying the gifts for all the others Avengers, but with the redhead, you wanted to find something special. Maybe it was because she was your best friend, or maybe it was the secret crush you had on her.

Anyway, you were having trouble deciding exactly what would be good enough as a gift for her.

Pietro assured you that Wanda would like anything you gave her, but you wanted something amazing.

So here you were in the mall, arm in arm with the witch's brother, trying to find the perfect gift.

As it was Christmas, the place was crowded with people as desperate as you were. Fortunately, no one recognized you two, and you would remember to tell Natasha that a cap and a sweatshirt really do work as a good disguise.

After leaving the fifth store without liking anything, you heard Pietro let out an impatient grumble.

- I have an idea, you know? - He said when you stopped in front of a shop window. - Why don't you wrap yourself in gift paper? Wanda will love it.

You blushed, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

- Shut up. - you mumbled clumsily. - Why don't you give me a real idea? Isn't there anything Wanda really wanted?

Pietro sighed, assuming a thoughtful expression.

- I don't know, I guess not. - he says, putting his hands in his pockets. - You know what she likes, why don't you give her a DVD or something?

- I said I want it to be special. - You reply, looking around. - I just need to find the right thing.

- I am hungry. - He grumbles, then starts walking toward a doughnut cart. You hurry to keep up with him, having become slightly distracted. - I don't know what you want to do, but you can try to make something for her. 

- I don't know how to do these handcrafted things. - You say, running your hand through your hair. Pietro joins the line at the cart, and you stand in silence while he buys some sweet doughnuts. 

- It doesn't have to be a handmade thing. - He says as he picks up the doughnuts. - You can prepare something for her. A dinner, for example.

And then you stop walking, widening your eyes.

- You're a genius, Pietro. - You tell him happily, thrilling at the thousands of ideas that come to you. He frowns in confusion. - Now I need you to tell me exactly what you two used to eat in Sokovia.

//-//

On Christmas morning, you jump out of bed bright and early, extremely excited. You shower, and put on some comfortable clothes, and then leave the room. You are quite impressed by the Christmas decorations that Tony has put up for the night. There are garlands, and small trees, and colorful ornaments scattered throughout the hallways. You smile when you notice the little holographic Santa Claus walking through the compound.

Squinting slightly, you walk toward the kitchen while ignoring the nervousness in your stomach as you prepare Wanda's breakfast, also know as the first stage of her Christmas present.

No one is awake yet, and you take the opportunity to turn the stereo on low while humming a rock song from the 50s. You are distracted by making some Grénki, when you hear a whistle, and let out a startled exclamation.

- Where is the fire? - Ironized Natasha as she entered the kitchen, a playful smile on her face as she sat down on the seat in front of the counter. - You waking up early is a Christmas miracle.

- Ha-ha very funny. - You retorted in the same ironic tone, turning your attention back to your food. - Merry Christmas, Nat. And good morning.

- Good morning, sweetie. - She says slightly distracted, looking curiously at what you were doing. - Aren't you going to tell me what it is?

- It's not for you. - You say humorously, walking around to organize the tray you're taking to Wanda. - This is my present for-

- Your girlfriend.

- Nat! - you exclaim with flushed cheeks. - Wanda and I don't...

- Yes, yes! - she interrupts with a slight laugh. - It's just a healthy, platonic friendship with lots of affection. And touch.

- You know you don't have to be jealous, I'll let you have some of the food. - You scoff, trying to change the direction of the conversation, and Nat laughs.

While you set up the tray, and pour some coffee, you both remain silent. But then Nat asks:

- You are still going to attend the party tonight aren't you? Tony is excited about this.

- Oh, yes. - You confirm with a smile, pouring Nat some coffee. You also hand her some Grénki, and she smiles in appreciation. - I have the slight impression that the participation of all the avengers is mandatory.

Nat laughs, nodding her head in agreement. And then you let out a sigh. The tray was ready.

- Nice breakfast to you both. - She teases you with an insinuating smile, and you ignore the feeling that your face was getting warm and thank her, carrying the tray toward Wanda's room.

//-//

Your hands were sweating a little when you entered the room. Wanda was still asleep, and you placed the coffee tray on the bedroom table as you made your way toward her bed. Kneeling beside the bed, you called softly a few times to wake her up, while you shook her knee lightly over the blanket. Wanda grumbled, pressing her face against the mattress, looking absolutely adorable.

- Come on, Wandy, I have a surprise. - You said softly, smiling at her. She opened one of her eyes, interested, causing you to laugh softly. You then stood up, walking toward the table as Wanda stretched out in her bed.

You picked up the tray, and turned, walking back to the bed as Wanda sat up, running her hands over her face to wake up completely. 

- What is this?- she asked in a hoarse tone as you approached. Then you put the tray on her lap, and stepped away, wringing your hands lightly.

- I made you a proper Sokovian breakfast. - You declare with a smile, and Wanda stares at the tray in her lap in surprise. You swallow dryly. - Pietro told me what you ate as children and I tried to make it as similar as possible. But it's okay if you hate it…

- Thank you. - She interrupts impressed. - That's... That's very sweet of you.

You look away, embarrassed by the way Wanda is looking at you. But then she is letting out a sigh of excitement, and starts tasting the items, and your heart is racing because she looks absolutely beautiful with her slightly tousled hair, and her cheeks flushed, as she makes satisfied noises when  tasting the food.

Wanda looks at you again.

- This is so good. - She comments with a smile. - Don't just stand there, sit here with me. Let's eat together.

You laugh shyly, doing as she told you. And as you two are sharing the breakfast, the door opens again, and Pietro is rushing into the room, flopping down on the bed next to Wanda while shouting "Merry Christmas”.

- Wow, that looks tasty. - He comments as soon as he notices the tray, but Wanda pats his hand when he threatens to take it some of the food.

- It is my present, not yours. - She grumbles, and he pretends to be offended.

- Haven't you ever learned that you must share things? - He scoffs, using his powers to steal one of the buns quickly and Wanda lets out an angry exclamation, but he laughs, stopping her from taking the item back with his speed. You laugh at the interaction.

- I made more of those, you know. - You joke. - No need to fight.

- Of course not. After all, the breakfast was my idea. - Pietro retorted with irony, causing you to roll your eyes with amusement.

- Oh yeah, you're going to bring that up now aren't you? - You smile back and Pietro laughs lightly, taking a bite of the bread. 

You are silent for a moment, just eating together, until the boy speaks again.

- I came to tell you two that we're opening presents during the party tonight. - He said, wiping his hands on a napkin. - Tony just told us all in the kitchen. I said I would tell you both since you are making your platonic move on my sister.

You feel your face getting very hot at Pietro's insinuation, and you look down at your own lap, dryly swallowing your nervousness. Wanda feels her heart race, and looks at you, but you're looking down, and she's embarrassed and guilty that you're uncomfortable. Then she gives a angry look at Pietro, but he doesn't seem to care much.

- Anyway, you have been warned. - He says smiling. - When you're done with the second part of your gift, come spend some time with me. I want to beat your ass at Call of Duty.

- Second part? - Wanda asks with a frown of surprise and confusion, and you look at Pietro reproachfully.

- Damn, I forgot it was a surprise. - He says as he notices your gaze, but he is already getting up. - Good luck anyway.

You sigh as the boy uses superspeed to leave the room, and you run your hands through your hair. And then Wanda is looking at you expectantly, and you lets out a short laugh.

- It's a surprise, Wanda, there is no point in looking at me like that. - You tell her with a smile and she makes an excited noise with her mouth, and you laugh. - After lunch, I'll take you out. Make sure to hear something warm, because it's snowing.

When Wanda finishes her breakfast, you take the tray back to the kitchen while she goes to take a shower. You ignore the feeling of having her arms around you when she hugged you to thank you for the present, and force yourself to stop grinning like an idiot when you enter the kitchen.

- Merry Christmas, Y/N. - said Bucky as soon as he walked into the kitchen while you were washing the breakfast dishes. 

- Merry Christmas, Buck. - You replied, smiling when he kissed you on the cheek. 

- I heard that you made a special breakfast for a certain little witch. - He remarked as he left the newspaper that he was carrying on his hand on the counter, while he picked up a dishrag and began to dry and put away the dishes you had already finished washing.

- Natasha is making fun of me, I imagine. - You mumble with a laugh, and Bucky chuckles, agreeing.

- You can bet she is. 

You finish washing the dishes in silence, and Bucky hands you the dishrag to wipe your hands, while he has a thoughtful look on his face.

- You do know that Tony has spread several mistletoe around the tower, don't you? - He remarks with an insinuating smile, and you blink in confusion. He chuckles. - I'm just saying it might be an opportunity to, you know.

And then you understand and widen your eyes in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

- I don't... What... We don't...She’s not...

- I didn't even say a name. - He sneers, making you blush more.

Bucky laughs at your state, and pats you on the shoulder, before walking out of the kitchen, humming a Christmas song. You bite your lip, imagining you and Wanda in the hallway, a mistletoe above your heads, and her leaning toward you. And then you shake your head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away, while repeating that you are best friends. And that your best friend is a mind reader, so you'd better keep those thoughts very quiet.

//-//

At lunchtime, after doing your few chores for the day, and telling Pietro that you wouldn't play with him because he almost ruined the surprise, you returned to Wanda's room. Wearing clothes warm enough to go out in the snow, and with two tickets in your jacket pocket. You didn't even have to knock, and Wanda was already using her magic to open the door, and she seemed excited.

- Will you tell me where we're going now? - She asked as you signaled for her to follow you down the hall, and you laughed.

- You'll know when we get there. - You retorted with amusement, biting your lip when Wanda made her puppy dog eyes at you, trying to get you to tell her. - It's no use, honey, this pretty eyes of yours won't work.

Wanda laughed lightly, her cheeks flushed at the compliment, giving up. You borrowed one of Tony's cars, telling the redhead that if she didn't tell him about it, you wouldn't either.

Driving for a few minutes while you and Wanda hummed along to the selection of Christmas tunes on the radio, you finally arrived.

The European Christmas Fair was set up in downtown New York, and was a long row of food and craft stalls, with items from many European countries. When you heard that there would be stands from Sokovia, you bought tickets.

The place was quite crowded, and Wanda let out an exclamation of excitement when you pulled into the parking lot, and she could see the big banner up high with the name of the event.

- My God, are you for real? - she asked in disbelief. 

- Am I suppose to take your statement as "I liked it"? - You retort playfully but slightly unsure, and Wanda laughs, advancing towards you.

She hugged you tightly around the neck, and then began to kiss you repeatedly on the cheek, making you laugh and blush. She pulled away, bouncing with excitement, as she entwined your hands and pulled you toward the event.

After handing over the tickets at the entrance, you didn't mind that Wanda's hand was still in yours. 

You strolled for hours among the stalls, tasting different foods, and looking at the shelves. You bought some souvenirs for Wanda, and she did the same for you. And then you found the Sokovia stall, and you tried to learn slangs and dialects in the language, with Wanda and the stall mistress as your guides. When you whispered to the lady to teach you how to say "you look very pretty", Wanda laughed with flushed cheeks when you tried to say it to her, helping you to pronounce it correctly afterwards. You ended up tasting soups of different flavors, and other typical foods.

And at the end of the day, you took Wanda to see a fireworks display, and it was almost nine p.m when you got a message from Nat telling you that the party was about to start and Tony was asking about you two.

As you both walked back to the tower, you think that if anyone asked you, you would say that it was the best afternoon of your life.

//-//

Tony's party was surprisingly Christmasy and cozy. You would think he would do something big and fancy, with electronic music and gala costumes. But he just organized a meeting among the Avengers, and asked everyone to wear comfortable and warm clothes.

He had set up a big tree in the room, and the presents were on the bottom. The same decorations that you had noticed earlier were now accompanied by twinkling lights, and there were other smalls holograms of reindeer and sleighs moving all around the place. You and Wanda exchanged an amused look as you took off your coats and walked toward the living room.

There was a table full of typical Christmas foods set up in the living room, and you noticed that the whole team was already sitting on the couches and armchairs, and it looked like Clint was telling a funny story. When Tony noticed that you two had arrived, he let out a happy exclamation.

- Finally, girls! - he remarked with a smile. - I was about to send a suit after you two.

- It's not even ten o'clock Tony. - You countered in the same tone and approached the food table, while Wanda sat down on the couch next to her brother. - Yay, cookies.

- We've been waiting for you to exchange gifts. - He clarifies and you make a noise of understanding as you grab some cookies before moving toward the couch. 

Your natural instinct is to go toward Wanda, but since she has sat on the end of the sofa, you sit in the free chair next to Nat. 

- Did you enjoy your date? - She quietly asked you with an insinuating smile, and you felt your face heat up. Clearing your throat, you nodded in agreement.

And then Tony let out an excited exclamation, picking up three packages from the tree. He tossed each one to its respective owners and then picked up more gifts, repeating the action until everyone had a gift to open.

- I'll start obviously. - He declared as he began to tear open a golden package. - Who gave me a book, people?

The group laughed, and then Steve raised his hand. 

- Please finish opening the present.

Tony looked at him suspiciously, finishing tearing open the package. Then he let out a surprised exclamation.

- What? - He seemed to be talking more to himself than to anyone else. And then the group became curious. - "Advanced Mechanics, autographed and annotated edition by Howard Stark" - Tony read from the cover, and then turned to Steve. - H-How did you get this? My father only autographed copies during the war, and...

- Yeah, i know. - Steve interrupted with a smile. - I was there myself. Actually, this was my copy and I just got it back from S.H.I.E.L.D now. I thought it would be a nice present to you.

- Damn it, Cap. You're going to make me cry. - Retorted Tony with a smile as he reached over to hug Steve. The group let out an excited chorus. You smiled fondly when you saw your friends hugging, Steve whispered "Merry Christmas buddy" as they parted.

The gift exchange became kind of generic yet sweet after that. Since everyone had to buy gifts for everyone, most members got new clothes, or simple souvenirs, or electronics. Besides jackets, socks, and a headset, you also got a box of Belgian chocolates from Clint, and you were very pleased. And then you had a gray package in your hand, and you tore open the wrapping with curiosity.

Your breath caught in surprise. In your hands was a board game. But not just any board game. It was the same game you used to play with your siblings when you were a kid, an item you thought you would never see again. 

- How...? - you whispered as you examined the box. Several memories invading your mind at once.

- I guess we're back to emotional gifts, guys. - Tony commented with light excitement as he noticed your reaction. - Share your gift with the group please, Y/N.

You swallow dryly, trying to control your emotion.

- It's a board game. - You say turning the gift over so the team can see the cover. - I used to play when I was a kid. I couldn't even remember how it looked but seeing this again brought so many memories back. How...

- You dream about it sometimes. - Wanda says shyly, and you and the team look at her in surprise. - It took a while but I found it online.

You think Natasha said something about this being really sweet, but your heart is racing as you look at Wanda. She blushes but holds your gaze, smiling coyly. And then Bruce asks you if he can look at the game, and you blink in confusion, turning your attention to him.

Later, when all the presents on the tree have been opened, Tony and Steve hand out blankets to everyone, because even with the tower heater, it is considerably colder.

And then you and Bruce go out to the kitchen to serve everyone eggnog, and Pietro uses his speed to deliver all the mugs quickly. When you go to sit down again, the team moved around the seats and Wanda opens the blanket for you to join her.

Completely wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the girl next to you, you feel your chest heat up with comfort. The avengers begin to share life stories in the next moment, each one with their own mug of hot drink.

You are about to fall asleep when Natasha starts humming a Christmas song, and soon the whole group is singing along. You chuckle lightly, watching the scene. Then you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake as you join them. 

Thor is the first to fall asleep a while later. He lays his head against the couch support, and a moment later Bucky is asleep on his shoulder. Tony and Steve sleep on the floor, Tony's head resting on the captain's lap. Soon the other members are falling asleep in the same way. You blink, and notice a blue flash. Pietro is collecting the empty cups to avoid any rest of the drink the spill, and he smiles quickly at you when he notice you awake. You decide to help him, moving slowly on the blanket so as not to awaken Wanda, who had just fallen asleep.

You carry your mugs back to the kitchen, and Pietro appears at your side soon after.

- Man, I loved that. - He comments with a smile, and you nod in agreement.

- Yeah, me too. - You say. - It's the most peaceful we've been in a long time.

- By the way, thanks for the game. - He mentioned the video game you had gifted him while leaning back against the counter. - But it's a tricky gift, because you'll also enjoy it since you'll be playing with me.

You laugh, shrugging your shoulders. Pietro lets out a yawn.

- I'm tired, but I'm going to go back to the room and play for a while. - He counts and you nod. He gives you a hug, and wishes you a Merry Christmas before leaving.

You bite the inside of your cheek next, remembering Wanda's latest gift. It is a DVD collection of old American sitcoms, editions with behind the scenes and commentary, and you had left it in your room, hoping to give it to Wanda after the party. But now that she was asleep, you thought it best to go back to your room.

You almost screamed with fright when you tripped over the redhead on your way out of the kitchen, and looked behind her to see Natasha moving around on the couch, probably having heard your surprised exclamation, but she didn't wake up. 

Wanda exchanged a giggle with you, signaling for you to be quiet, and you bit your lips to keep from laughing. 

- Are you going to bed already? - she asked softly, and you denied it with your head.

- I was going to, but now that you are up, I want to give you your last present. - You tell her, nodding for the two of you to leave the room. Wanda looks at you curiously, but follows you to your room.

As you walk toward your closet, she closes the door.

- You're spoiling me today, printsessa. So many gifts - She comments with a smile, and you bite your lip trying not to show how much you like the nickname.

She sits on your bed looking at you expectantly as you walk toward her, a neatly wrapped present in your hands.

- This is the last one, I promise. - You assure her with a small smile as you hand her the item. 

And then Wanda is carefully undoing the loop, and when she finishes opening it, she lets out an excited giggle.

- This is absolutely amazing! - she says, running her fingers along the DVD cover. You smile, putting your hands in your pockets. But then Wanda bites her lip, and is quiet for a moment, her expression serious. You blink in confusion, but before you can ask what's wrong, she's talking again. - Why are you doing all this?

You stare at her for a second, your heart racing. Shifting the weight of your feet, and looking down at the ground afterwards.

- I just wanted your first Christmas with the Avengers to be special. - You lie, risking a look at her. There is something in her gaze that tells you that this is not the answer she expected, or that she doesn't believe you.

- Is that the only reason? - she asks. You think you are imagining the thread of insecurity in her voice.

You swallow dryly, nodding in agreement. Wanda forces a smile, looking away. Then she is placing the gift on the bed.

- I'm tired now. - she says clumsily. - But I loved all the presents.

You nod frantically, watching her get up. It's a cue for saying goodnight, and you swallow the bitter feeling in your stomach as you smile and walk toward the door, Wanda following you.

You open the door, and she step out, but turn around as you shift the weight of your feet, smiling slightly at Wanda standing in the doorway.

- Good night then. - She says slightly hesitant. 

- Good... 

Your sentence dies in your mouth when something catches your attention and you look up in confusion. The hologram of Santa Claus coming down from the door frame to the top of her head. Wanda looks surprised too. And then you feel your face heat up as the image turns into a mistletoe.

- What the...? - You frown in confusion, but the picture doesn't change even when you run your fingers up at it. And then Wanda lets out a giggle.

- Well, a tradition is a tradition. - She says before moving closer, and giving you a lingering kiss on your cheek that completely takes away your ability to think.

She remains very close even after she moved away, and her pupils are fully dilated in her green orbs, drawing the air from your lungs. You want to kiss her. Very much.  And this thought keeps looping over and over in your head.

- Wanda, I.... - You start hoarsely and breathlessly, but the redhead just nods.

- Do it.

So she had read your mind after all. You didn't care, though. Not when you closed your eyes and brought your mouths together.

It was sweet and tender, just as you expected a first kiss, or a kiss under the mistletoe to be. And then you pulled away, your lips tingling, as you pressed your foreheads together and normalized your breathing. 

You looked up, a playful smile on your lips. The mistletoe was still there.

- I guess we'll have to continue then. - You commented with an amused smile and Wanda let out a giggle, bringing her hands up to your face.

- Yes, it's a tradition. - She whispered before joining your mouths in a much less innocent kiss. You felt your body shiver as she pulled your face to her, her fingers stroking the hair at the nape of your neck. You moved your hands up to her waist, and she stumbled into the room, dragging you along with her as you closed the door with one of your hands.

Neither of you notice the low celebratory chorus at the end of the hall, or the remote control in Tony Stark's hand, deactivating the hologram on the door.

//-//

You two kiss until you are breathless, and your lips are swollen and your hearts are racing. At some point you fall onto the bed, with you on top of Wanda, your kisses gradually slowing down.

- Hey. - You say breathlessly as you part, a silly smile on your lips. Wanda looks at you adoringly, and you feel your heart race even more.

- Hey. - She greets back, stroking your cheek with her thumb. Then you're lying on the bed beside her, leaning your face against your arm to face her, and Wanda mimics your position.

- I have another reason. - You say after a moment. She frowns in confusion. You swallow dryly before you clarify. - To give you the gifts. I have another reason.

Wanda bites her lip, waiting. She starts running her fingers down your cheek, tracing your skin and making you smile. 

- I... - You start feeling your heart racing. Wanda's gaze is making you nervous. Then you sigh, trying to calm yourself. You start thinking too fast afterwards. She just kissed you, she must feel the same way. But maybe she only did it because of the mistletoe tradition. Or maybe she just wanted to kiss, because people do it without being in love with each other. If you confess,  things would get awkward, because Wanda is absolutely breathtaking and she wouldn't like you that way. You find yourself starting to sink into derogatory thoughts about yourself in the next moment, thinking about how you would never deserve someone like her.

- Your thoughts are loud. - She declares with a slightly concerned expression as she lets her fingers caress the back of your neck. You blush clumsily, ready to apologize, but Wanda is moving closer again, bringing your foreheads together. - Why are you thinking such cruel things about yourself?

You swallow dryly, closing your eyes, trying to clear your mind as your therapist has taught you. 

- I can't help it. - You confess in a whisper, and then Wanda's nose is touching yours while her fingers remain in your hair. - I'm sorry about this.

- I don't like when you think that kind of nonsense. - She says, bringing your lips together quickly, and then she is pulling away only to kiss your cheek. - None of it is true. - she whispered, her lips caressing your skin. - You are simply spectacular and my favorite person in the world. - She says against your lips, making you shiver a little. - And I'm completely in love with you.

You open your eyes in surprise, feeling your face heat up. Although Wanda also has flushed cheeks, she smiles with confidence.

- Do you really mean that? - You ask in a slightly trembling voice, but Wanda's smile does not falter as she nods. You let out a sigh of relief and happiness, burying your face in Wanda's neck and wrapping your arms around her waist. You envelop her completely, rolling on top of her on the bed and she giggles against you, enjoying the warmth of your body.

- Kiss me again, please. - She asks playfully against your ear, and you blush, burying your face even deeper into her collarbone.

- I'm hugging you now. Kissing is for later. - You declare against her skin, eyes closed as you enjoy Wanda's scent. She laughs softly, her hands caressing your back.

And you think she has accepted your statement, but then her fingers lightly invade your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist, making you shiver at the sensation.

You let out a satisfied sigh, but don't let go, and Wanda lets out a mischievous laugh when you shiver briefly as you feel her fingers going up the base of your spine.

- That's not fair. - You grumble against her skin. And when Wanda's fingers start to rise even more, you sigh with both pleasure and impatience. - You're going to play like this, then? That's fine.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, not knowing what you mean, but then she closes her eyes tightly when she feels you deposit a wet kiss against her collarbone only to bite and suck her sensitive spot next, her fingers stopping the movement the same minute she moans.

You smile at the reaction you have wrung from her, and move your kisses up her skin to her chin, until you finally bring your lips together again. 

After many long stolen kisses, you fall asleep completely entwined in each other. Definitely the best Christmas ever.

[got-svt]

the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship.   pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

___

Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed. 

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation. 

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his. 

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.  

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.” 

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring. 

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out. 

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen. 

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up. 

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed. 

2018. 

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours. 

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it. 

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together. 

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in. 

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you. 

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted. 

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before. 

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful. 

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously,  “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his. 

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in. 

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.” 

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise. 

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it. 

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused. 

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed. 

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core. 

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket. 

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you. 

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him,  “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer. 

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest. 

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.” 

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known. 

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year. 

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one. 

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him. 

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.” 

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision. 

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter. 

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement. 

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen. 

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking, 

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

[adropofgoldenrachelx]

No Show - A Thread: Part One

Summary: Rachel has been a no show for a while and Toulouse shows up at her door to find out what’s going down. She tells him her story, and why she’s been hauled up inside for a week. It’s kinda sad but also it’s cute and we’re not sorry. Reply order: Rachel, Toulouse (blockquotes).

Featuring: Rachel and @beaumont-ague , Mom (Arianna) and Dad (Fredrick). Also guest appearance from Dad’s Moustache.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, flashbacks, references to past trauma as with the drabble.

—————————————————————————————————

It wasn’t like Rachel to choose not to go to her classes. She hadn’t missed a single day (except for three days where she was overcome with an unfortunate flu and forced to stay in her bed) since enrollment, and by every intention she wouldn’t miss another. College had been a grand milestone in her life, after finding her freedom and spending her first two years in an intense schooling program to bring her up to the standard (or as close to) of her peers. It hadn’t been easy, given what they were working with, but she worked her butt off and was finally allowed to enrol in Redwood College when she received her high school diploma. Rachel loved learning, so much so that, after finding enough courage, she would sneak into the back of lecture halls she wasn’t enrolled for just so she could learn as much as humanly possible.

So, for Rachel to be missing from class for a day, two days, a week was strange.

She hadn’t told anyone she wouldn’t be there. It hadn’t been planned, but she had lost so much sleep lately that she slept in for her morning lecture, and then couldn’t face showing up late in the afternoon. It spiralled from there, and now here she was, cooped up in her bedroom a week later wishing she wasn’t. Artist Block she would say, all the while painting away at the mural on her bedroom wall.

It was Rachel’s father, Frederick, who answered the door. He was an imposing figure, moustached for the gods and flaunting a raised brow at the young man who had knocked looking for his daughter.

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse didn’t really pay attention to who he saw and who he didn’t see around campus on a daily basis. Actually, he never really paid all that much attention to anything on campus, let alone people. He was always in his own world, rushing to classes or trying to get inspiration for a new piece. However, one person that he knew for sure he hadn’t seen in a few days was Rachel. At first, it hadn’t dawned on him that he didn’t see her for a few days. What gave it away, was the fact that he’d delivered his latest gift to her for their gift exchange, he hadn’t received one back. Even if they’d only known each other a short period of time, it just didn’t seem to be in character for her to up and quit. At least not without an explanation.

Of course, that wasn’t why he was worried or upset. He didn’t mind that she hadn’t given him a gift. In fact, he did feel slightly guilty for enjoying that he was currently winning. The lack of gifts in their exchange had simply alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t seen her recently, prompting him to ask around. Rachel was fairly popular. Of course she was, he thought to himself as he’d gotten plenty of answers when asking for her around campus. Toulouse had managed to get her address, and fortunately someone was nice enough to tip him off that her parents could be sort of… strict. How strict, he hadn’t known, but he thought it better to make a decent impression than show up in his sweatshirt and joggers that he’d been wearing to class. Substituting them for a polo with some slacks and loafers was a much better choice. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t take pride in his appearance, he really did. But, it was to be expected of a college kid to just want to get through class, and really, he didn’t have that many people to impress. Throwing on a watch and trying to comb his unruly mess of hair before leaving, Toulouse made sure to bring his phone and one of his rings, which he often used as a fidget toy. He didn’t suspect he’d need it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have it along. When he’d arrived at Rachel’s address -at least, he hoped it was the correct address- he was met by a rather tall man with an even more intimidating mustache. This was where his proper etiquette would come in handy. 

“Hi Sir,” he greeted the man politely with confidence. “My name is Toulouse Beaumont, I go to school with your daughter. Some of us were worried when we realized we hadn’t seen her around the campus in a few days, and were hoping to see that she was alright. I also had some assignments to drop off for her, if that’s alright?” Holding out a small stack of papers, only the top was a legitimate assignment. The rest were ones he’d made up, copying previous lesson plans he’d seen or received. Of course, no one else would know that without a very close inspection. “One we’re supposed to work on together, actually,” he added quickly after, to strengthen the chance he might get to actually see Rachel. Her father could very easily just take the papers and ask him to leave, which he had prepared for, though he was optimistic. 

—————————————————————————————————

Frederick could hardly help himself from vetting everyone that came within a ten mile radius of Rachel and their home, and had no intention of being any less intimidating when Toulouse introduced himself politely, or explained the reason for his visit. “Rachel is doing perfectly fine,” he answered, offering no further explanation to her current plight. It was none of this young man’s business, after all. “I’ll pass the a--” Frederick was soon interrupted.

Rachel’s mom had been in the sitting room reading, but emerged behind her husband shortly after Toulouse introduced himself. Arianna was a touch more savvy than her husband (though not any less protective) and knew that it was important for Rachel to still see her friends. She recognised his name after Rachel had come home from the festival gushing about paper flowers and cupcakes. Arianna didn’t have to say much to Frederick -a cough and a lifted brow was enough- before he stepped out of the doorframe begrudgingly.

“Rachel’s in her room,” Arianna offered, gesturing to the foot of the stairs. It was important to her that Rachel was treated like everyone else, and if that meant letting her friends in to see her, then so be it. The young man didn’t seem like he would hurt a fly anyway and Arianna was sure her daughter wouldn’t want to miss out on too much work. “You can head up, but knock on her door first. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll pass the assignment on for you.”

Rachel was still occupied by her painting, huddled under a quilt on the floor like she was turning into a human tent. She wasn’t sure how long she had been trying to mix this very specific shade of coral, but she had every intention of keeping at it, humming and singing and mumbling to herself to pass the time and fill the silence.

Had she any inkling that Toulouse might appear, she would have made herself look slightly more presentable, maybe even tidying up her paints and forty other hobbies and projects she had been occupying her hands (and her mind with) over the week.

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse was never that great at talking to older men, and he knew the exact reason why, but he didn’t feel the need to disclose that at the moment. Fathers and father figures just weren’t a comfortable subject for him. Mothers, on the other hand, were different. He knew how to win over the heart of a mother figure. If it weren’t for Rachel’s mother sitting in the other room, he was sure that he would have to go back to his dorm and try to figure out a different way to speak to Rachel. Thank god for that, as she quickly stepped in to allow him into their home. 

With a grateful smile, Toulouse gave her a wave. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome.” If Rachel didn’t want company, he’d leave willingly. Still, it didn’t hurt to try, right? He mainly was just glad to hear that she was alright. Toulouse hadn’t completely lied when he said there was something that the both of them were meant to work on. It just wasn’t an official assignment. Rather, something to cheer her up. That was of course, permitted that she wanted to be seen. 

Taking the stairs up to the second floor, Toulouse took a guess at where Rachel’s room would be, and was just about to knock when he heard soft humming on the other side. Definitely her room, then, he thought to himself. His hand had been raised, ready to knock, though it slowly lowered as he listened to her sing more. She sounded nice, better than most people who casually sang to themselves. It may have been a selfish move, but rather than announce his presence, he stayed for a moment and just enjoyed her singing, eventually joining in subconsciously as he leaned up against the wall. 

—————————————————————————————————

Arianna offered Toulouse a sweet smile, all the while side-eyeing her husband who had puffed up his chest and was acting a little miffed. She would have a gentle word with him later, but for now they would leave Toulouse to it. Rachel’s room wasn’t terribly hard to locate, as she had started painting her door with some pretty flowers (fully intending on moving on to every door in the house when she had the time for it). 

Rachel continued to sing, none the wiser to the listening ear at her door. She liked to sing, finding it a pleasant way to fill silence. She sang in the studio sometimes, and she sang in the shower, and when she was making breakfast. It was a comfortable past-time. Of course, she didn’t always have an audience (a visible one anyway) and so the faint voice from the hallway, matching her song, caught her off guard. Dad didn’t sing (and the voice wasn’t deep enough to be Dad’s if he did). After a short continuation, to make sure she wasn’t going completely loopy and making up harmonies in her head, Rachel’s singing fizzled out.

There was a brief panic that her parents had left the house, and someone had broken into her house. (That had happened before, it wasn’t a wild conclusion to draw.) With her quilt still draped over her shoulders, Rachel grabbed the first thing at hand (thankfully not a frying pan) and crept toward her bedroom door, opening it just enough that she could see who was standing on the other side and close it swiftly if she had to.

It was a surprise (a pleasant one) to find Toulouse leaning on the wall outside her room, a stack of papers in hand (and an equally pleasant look on his face.)

Oh no. Oh no, the room is a mess! My hair is a mess! I’m holding a weapon! He’s gonna think I’m a weirdo!!!

There was no time to fix anything, so all she could do was stare dumbfounded from behind her door frame. “Hi…” Rachel managed, throwing on the closest thing she could find to a cheery smile. Should she bring up the singing thing? It was kinda cute… No, no that would be peak weirdo, he obviously didn’t know she could hear him, right..? She went for the safe option. Or rather, the obvious question that anyone who wasn’t totally freaking out right now would ask. “Uh… Come here often?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right one. 

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse wasn’t sure how long he would wait before knocking on the door. He was preoccupied listening to her sing, which was probably weird, in hindsight, but he’d deal with those consequences later. Sure enough, later came quickly, and Rachel was opening the door faster than Toulouse expected her too. Maybe he was singing a bit louder than he thought, since it seemed a little too coincidental that she would be leaving her room at that moment. 

He made no comments about her appearance, or the fact that she was only looking at him through a crack in her bedroom door. “No, actually. Not yet, at least,” Toulouse responded to her question with a chuckle. “Actually, I’m sort of surprised I made it this far. Remind me to thank your mom later.” Clearly Rachel wasn’t expecting company, and he could understand why. Anyone who knocked on the door would have likely been greeted by Mr. Moustachio, potentially with a scripted list of questions before being turned away. He wasn’t rude, just... stern, from the impression Toulouse gathered. 

It was at that moment that his eyes lowered a bit to an object that Rachel was holding in her hand. Pointing to it hesitantly, Toulouse furrowed his brows before asking, “Is that… is that a lamp?” The amount of effort it took for him to keep a straight face was almost painstaking, a smile creeping onto his face as he tried not to laugh. He sort of understood, afterall, given that he’d just been standing outside her room with no warning. “Maybe we ought to plug that in, yeah? It’d be a bit hard to read these in the dark.” He gestured to the papers in his hand. 

Mentioning the assignments was mainly so that in case her father was listening to their conversation downstairs, his story would ring true. While he didn’t want to invite himself into Rachel’s room, as that was sort of a private matter, the suggestion of plugging in the lamp and going over the papers implied that it might be easier to do so somewhere other than the hallway. 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel was kicking herself for her awkwardness, though Toulouse seemed to take her stupid question in his stride. It had hardly occurred to her that Toulouse would have knocked the front door, and that Dad would have answered it. He meant well, Rachel knew, but she wished he was less stubborn sometimes. “Oh, you made it past Dad,” she laughed apologetically. “Sorry about him, he’s kind of… He means well.”

Rachel grimaced, glancing down at the lamp in hand. What on earth was she thinking? That a lamp could save her butt? She floundered for a reasonable explanation as to why she brought a lamp with her to greet a guest at the door. “... Yes… Yes, this is a lamp. I was just-- It needed… dusting...” Yeah, that could work. She was going to dust it! The reality was Rachel was jumpy, but there was no chance she was going to explain that right now.

Wildly embarrassed at sporting the lamp, but deciding hiding behind the door was only making it worse, Rachel opened the door just enough to invite Toulouse in, still hiding behind the door itself. Now that she knew she wouldn’t have to use the lamp on him, it seemed silly to leave him standing out in the hallway. “Sorry,” Rachel laughed quietly. “Uh, you can come in just-- Ignore the mess?”

By Rachel standards, the room was a bombsite but it wasn’t nearly as messy as she thought it was. Everything had a place, and she tidied every morning when she woke up to make sure nothing was amiss. There were paints and a few sketchbooks dotted around the floor that she had been using, and a half eaten plate of cookies on her dresser as well as a few odds and ends not in their proper home. (Notably, the paper flowers Toulouse had given her at the Hootenanny had a special place on the centre of her bookcase, inside a tiny vase, and the other gifts from their competition were set out neatly on her desk by the window.) By any other standards, her room was perfectly fine but she scurried to place the lamp back where it belonged and then set about moving a few things to make the place seem more presentable.

—————————————————————————————————

This was probably the first time that Toulouse got to see Rachel’s awkward side. It was a nice change of pace, really, though he wouldn’t dare say that out loud. No, he would keep that to himself for his own enjoyment. “I can tell. It’s alright, seriously. I’d probably be a little weary too about some strange kid showing up at my doorstep.” Giving a shrug, he looked back at her with a playful grin. 

Did he believe the lie? Of course not. Did he pretend to? Yes, yes he did. “Makes sense. I usually forget to dust my lamps, but you know, too much dust could be a fire hazard. Good on you for being proactive.” Toulouse was grateful for the invitation inside, slipping past the door. Truthfully, he was pretty curious to see what her room was like. Toulouse always thought that a person’s bedroom was another outward expression of themselves, and to be invited into one was a rather intimate matter in a different way than most people would associate it. He liked his space, and only if he fully trusted someone would he ever let them into his room back home. At school, it was slightly different, but still, he liked to control who was and was not allowed to see certain things.

Immediately, he started to look around, not at the so-called mess that Rachel tried to get him to ignore, but all of the things that made this Rachel’s room. Besides, it was hardly messy at all. He noticed the paper flowers that he had gotten her, which made him smile, perhaps even more than seeing all of their little knick knacks from their gift exchange going on. Then, he noticed that Rachel was fussing about, trying to clean and organize what she likely saw as the mess she’d left behind, not thinking anyone would be over. “You don’t have to do all of that. Trust me, my room is five times messier than this when I’m home for longer than the weekend. I’ve seen far worse,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood before bringing up the serious topic. “Sorry I didn’t say anything before showing up. But, since you never returned the gift I gave you last time, I just had to come find out your excuse.” 

His words were light, and playful, and much better at bringing up the subject of Rachel’s absence than flat out asking her why she hadn’t been at school recently. It must have been a good reason, considering it wasn’t like her to skip, from what he knew about her, and the fact that she looked hesitant and possibly even scared to open her door. 

—————————————————————————————————

It seemed her Father was weary of anyone that showed up at the door looking for Rachel, whether they were rough and tumble or not, but she couldn’t blame him for it, given circumstances. Of course, Toulouse didn’t know the circumstances. Maybe if none of this had happened Toulouse could have waltzed right in. “I did tell him about you, a little, but there’s not much convincing him everyone is fine.”

She glanced at the lamp, giving it a quick dust (partly to prove the lie, mostly because Toulouse was totally right and she didn’t want the curtains catching fire.) “Yeah, it’s always the last thing to get cleaned, I guess.“ Despite the insistence that she didn’t have to tidy up, Rachel continued to do so anyway, putting things back where they were supposed to be, with the exception of the paints that she intended on using to work on her mural after Toulouse left again. If anything, it was nerves. Something to keep herself occupied with that didn’t involve any anxious tugging at her hair (her tell). Usually she was better practiced in hiding all of her messy feelings, except for those who knew her, but she wasn’t having much luck today. “At least let me clear you a seat,” Rachel insisted, lifting a few cushions to give them a good fluff before she plopped them down at the bottom of her bed. She didn’t have guests over very often, and her desk chair wasn’t the most comfortable. Cass always sat on her bed when she visited, so it didn’t seem strange to think Toulouse could do the same.

Rachel gasped with the realisation that, in cooping herself up, she had forgotten all about Toulouse’s gift. So much so that she hadn’t even thought about making it yet. Immediately, she jumped to the conclusion that he must think she was a terrible friend for not keeping the exchange going and then saying nothing to him all week. That was textbook bad friend, right? “Oh no! I-- Sorry! I forgot all about it and I haven’t made it yet but I promise I’ll return it by, like, Tuesday.”

(Toulouse, well-intentioned though he was, had picked a bad week to visit.)

“It’s just that it’s been kind of a weird week and I got… artist’s block and stuff and it went totally out of my head.”

—————————————————————————————————

It came as a bit of a shock to hear Rachel admit that she told her parents about him. Surely that was normal though, wasn’t it? To talk about your friends to your parents? Toulouse never really understood those parents who had known their children's friends for years and yet still couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. He hoped that if he were ever to become one that he wouldn’t be one of those. “Maybe he’ll warm up in time,” the blond shrugged. Not that Toulouse was planning on coming over every day, as that was a bit excessive to think about now, but still he’d hoped to spend more time with Rachel in the future, thus meaning eventually they’d probably come round each other’s homes more often. His mother would definitely be more than willing to have her over. 

Something was definitely wrong. Over the years, Toulouse had been able to pick up on habits that people tended to develop under stress or trauma, and this was giving him flashbacks. Clearly Rachel was bothered by something, and though he wanted to be there to listen to it, he also didn’t want to force her to talk about something she didn’t want to. Clearing them spaces to sit was fair enough, so he didn’t object. Before sitting down, Toulouse took his shoes off so as to not get anything dirty. 

Unfortunately for Toulouse, Rachel must have been too focused in her manic cleaning spree and overthinking that she didn’t understand he’d meant to go about it in a light hearted way. That wasn’t what he cared about, really, but he wanted Rachel to open up on her own terms. “Hey, hey, it’s fine, Rachel, really.” Anything he said however was going in one ear and out the other as Rachel continued to ramble. Finally, Toulouse just reached forward and grabbed her hands, squeezing them to get her attention. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about the gift, or how long it takes, really. Don’t fuss over it. I’ll survive another week, I’m sure,” he smiled softly, shaking his head to reassure her that he didn’t need it right there and then. 

Letting her hands go, Toulouse put them by his sides as he scooted further back onto the bed. “Everyone gets artists’ block now and then, no need to stress about it. I just meant that you haven’t been around, recently. Is everything ok?”

—————————————————————————————————

"I hope so," Rachel replied casually, truly hoping her Dad would relax a little more around any of her friends. He seemed to like Cass well enough, but Rachel guessed that was mostly because of her job. She didn't invite many other friends over, but that was mostly because she preferred spending as little time indoors as she could. Still, it would have been nice if Dad's moustache didn't turn upside down whenever he was greeted with a new guest.

Rachel was trying very hard to remain as chill as possible, and keep the freaking out to a bare minimum. Usually she was better at hiding her worry than this, or she thought so at least (but there was a lot to unpack with that, which was another thing Rachel didn't need to completely spiral over). Her smile was still genuine, thankful for the company that Toulouse offered, but it didn't quite hit her eyes in the usual sunny way. 

It felt a little like she was walking in circles, moving things here and there that didn't need to be moved and she would have kept at it had Toulouse not taken her hands, catching her off guard and stopping her in her tracks. Rachel had jumped to so many conclusions in a minute that now she felt all kinds of silly for worrying over nothing. The squeeze of their hands was just enough to halt that worry. "Are you sure..?" Rachel asked quietly, just to be totally one hundred percent sure that he wasn't actually upset about the gift thing.

It was an instinct to twist the ends of a lock of hair when he let go, rapping it absently around her fingers as she sighed onto the free space on the bed. She didn't think anyone would notice her absence enough to wonder where she was, let alone come to check up on her. Rachel hesitated too long to reasonably answer yes to Toulouse's concern. Artist block wouldn't cut it. Would a proper explanation do any better though? Rachel wasn't sure what she could even say without the risk of Toulouse freaking out too.

"I've been worse?" Rachel admitted finally, a grimace masked by a bashful laugh. "It's… hard to explain. I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone, I'll be honest. I just… I mean, I wanted to go to class but I just couldn't, I guess. I don't know." 

—————————————————————————————————

As someone who was used to having his own difficulties with anxiety, Toulouse understood that Rachel was probably just acting on those impulses, which was why he didn’t try harder to stop her from running about and cleaning. Sometimes you just had to get it out of your system, and he understood that. Control what you could, and confront what you couldn’t. Only, it was the confronting part that he was worried about for her. Had she even taken the time to sit down and process why she had been missing classes? He didn’t know the reason himself, but he hoped that she did, and would understand why that was.

Grateful that catching her hands seemed to calm her down at least a little bit, he nodded casually with a smile. “Absolutely. Besides, you know you never even had to get me one in the first place. I haven’t been expecting any of the ones you’ve given so far. Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d give up one day, ‘cause that’d mean that I won,” he teased, laughing as she sat down on the bed.

Anything was hard to explain when it came with emotional baggage. Toulouse was sure that he could handle it, though, after years of practice. “Try me. I bet you I’ve heard stranger stories.” When she mentioned not assuming anyone would notice she was gone, however, Toulouse took that a bit personally. He didn’t show it of course, but the personal offence was only because he really didn’t think Rachel was being as kind to herself as she could be. “How could someone not? I mean, you’re probably one of the most outgoing people who go to that school. It’d be stupid for no one to notice.”

Laying down on his side, Toulouse propped himself up onto his elbow, his gaze softening as he looked to her to continue speaking. He wanted to know as much as she would tell him, but didn’t push too far. “That’s understandable, I mean sometimes we all need a break to deal with emotional things. Do you think talking about it might help? I’m a great listener, if I do say so myself,” he humbly bragged, trying to get her to smile. 

“Or, if you’d prefer, I can ask you questions completely unrelated to any of that, and try to take your mind off of it? I have the perfect one to start,” Toulouse assured. “For example…” His facial expression suddenly got quite serious, leaning in slightly toward her as if to tell her some sort of precious secret. “How long did it take your dad to grow that moustache?” He couldn’t even keep a straight face as he nearly burst into laughter, shaking his head. “But really, I have to know! It’s quite impressive.”

—————————————————————————————————

Glad that Toulouse wasn’t fussed about the gift, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. It was one less thing to worry about. That being said, there was no way she was not going to give him a gift at some point just because she was feeling down. It was a competition, after all. Rachel wasn’t a quitter. “Sorry, you haven’t won yet. This is just a momentary interlude.”

“Trust me, you really haven’t…” Rachel insisted through an awkward laugh, running her fingers through her hair. She would be willing to put a bet on it, actually. If it wasn’t her own story, she would have thought the whole kidnapped as a baby, raised by a fake ‘Mother’ in isolation for nineteen years, then rescued by some dude who eventually abandoned you and became your art teacher four years later all while coming out relatively unscathed thing was totally made up. Truthfully, it had been suggested to Rachel that she didn’t bring it up as flippantly as she had done when she was first introduced to the outside world and now she wasn’t really sure if she should bring it up ever. She said nothing to the fact that people might actually notice if she was gone, shrugging it off to avoid arguing another case against herself.

“I’m not sure if I should,” Rachel admitted meekly. It might not do any harm, or it could tarnish Flynn’s newfound reputation. Rachel held her breath when Toulouse leaned in like he was about to tell her a secret, and snorted a laugh when his question came. It was a totally unexpected one. “He does have a very impressive moustache, doesn’t he?” Rachel nodded, relaxing just enough to keep laughing. “He’s had it as long as I’ve known him. I think he even had the moustache on his wedding day.”

A distraction would have been welcome, but it also could have been part of the problem. Everything previously scattered around her room had been a distraction, as was the current patch of wet paint on the wall, and the five batches of cookies she had baked for everyone at the precinct, and everything else she had done until she couldn’t take it any longer. Rachel desperately wanted the distraction Toulouse was bringing in making her laugh -Cass would have insisted she face the problem head on instead- but if Toulouse had any intention of sticking around, it made sense that he would have to know what was going on.

Rachel hesitated for a moment, looking rather serious as she looked for any sign that Toulouse would nope on out of the conversation the moment he realised just how much baggage she was about to unload on him. He seemed trustworthy enough, but that kind of thinking had gotten her burned before. “Can I trust you?” she asked. It seemed the simplest way of knowing. She didn’t think he would lie. “I mean, I probably should actually tell you some things if we’re going to be friends and all that but if I tell you, you have to promise not to freak out.”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse had to admit by now that he was curious. What could be so mind boggling that Rachel seemed to think he would find her crazy. He had his own fucked up past, sure, and knew very well that most people did. For whatever reason that just didn’t seem to fit Rachel’s personality. For someone so nice to have such dark secrets… it was both scary and intriguing. “Hey, I understand. Trust me, I won’t take it personally if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to make you talk about it.” 

Hearing Rachel laugh was possible one of the best sounds he’d ever heard. The worrying after not seeing her for a week or so had been dialed down once he made it past her front step, but making her laugh made it worth the concern. “Do you think it takes a lot of effort to keep it looking so nice? I mean, one could only imagine,” he continued, chuckling to himself as they joked around. The joking didn’t last forever though, and by the expression change on Rachel’s face, he wondered if she was going to start opening up more. 

Had Rachel not looked so serious, Toulouse might have answered somewhat sarcastically. But with Rachel, his sarcasm meter was usually lower anyway. So instead, he gave her a reassuring nod. “Of course. I trust you, so I hope you would be able to trust me. Here, give me your pinky.” Toulouse shifted closer to her, sitting upright on the bed with his own pinky extended. “Have you ever heard of a pinky promise? They can never be broken, so that means they’re extra special,” he explained with a smile.

Toulouse took his pinky promises very seriously. Hopefully Rachel would too, since this was the best way that he could think of to ensure she trusted him. “You should never make a pinky promise if you plan on going back on your word. So, I’m going to pinky promise to you, that whatever you tell me, anything at all, whether it be that you have an evil twin, or like… you hate coffee or something ridiculous,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, I pinky promise I won’t freak out, and that you can trust me with anything.” 

—————————————————————————————————

“Don’t tell him I told you, but he spends ages in the bathroom preening it.” A sincere smile swept Rachel’s features as she looped Toulouse’s pinky around her own. Rachel never broke a promise. She liked having a signifier of trust here. “Thank you,” she replied gently and could only hope he meant it.

Rachel took a deep breath; it was mostly to steady herself, but it was also a preparation for the long, rambling story she was about to tell. She supposed the best way to go about telling the story was to just let it all out in one fell swoop. The quicker it was out, the quicker it was done and the quicker Rachel could shrug it all off like none of this was really that big of a deal. 

“Okay, so,” she began, pushing her hair back from her face. Just rip the bandaid off. “I’m a-- I was a Milk Carton Kid. I was kidnapped when I was a baby, and raised by a woman who I thought was my mother. She homeschooled me, sort of, and said that there were people out there-- out here-- that would want to hurt me, or steal me. That I had to stay inside the house, with her, so she could protect me.”

Rachel took a pause, glancing carefully at Toulouse. Any sign of a freak out and she would end her story there. It had been the easy part for Rachel to tell, but it also happened to be the part of the story that made most people uncomfortable. Still, Toulouse promised not to freak out, and Rachel was going to hold him to it. She went on but her stomach was starting to turn itself in knots again, and the fingers through her hair found a lock to tug at.

“‘Mother’ was the only person I knew for my whole life, and she never let me-- I never-- I thought everything outside of my home was dangerous and scary, and that the ruffians and thugs would probably get me. I had thought about asking her to take me to see the lights for my birthday a few times, but something always came up so we never did… Um, but anyway, one day when ‘Mother’ was gone someone broke into our house, not realising I was in there, and I obviously totally freaked out and hit him with my frying pan because I’d never seen a grown man before.” 

(At this, Rachel hoped Toulouse had forgotten about the lamp.) 

“When he woke back up… I asked him to take me with him. I wanted to see the lights on my birthday, and he agreed to take me there and bring me back in one piece.”

Here, Rachel hesitated. She had lost so much sleep in the past few weeks over the next part of the story that she could feel the knots tightening, and her eyes starting to sting at the corners. That would surely be enough for Toulouse to process for a moment while she swallowed the horrible feeling.

—————————————————————————————————

When Rachel started to tell her story, Toulouse used all of his focus to make sure he was giving her his undivided attention. He could tell as soon as she started that it was a very emotional story. What he didn’t expect however was just how traumatizing it was going to be. Not wanting to be disrespectful by interrupting, Toulouse let her get everything out, hoping it would help her from stopping and creating awkward silences. Watching her body language, it was obvious that the topic was uncomfortable to talk about. For that, he commended her greatly. 

As soon as she did pause, Toulouse jumped into the conversation so that she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. He had promised not to freak out, and though all of this was pretty freak out worthy, he wasn’t going to break his promise. “Wow… so you’ve only really been home for a few years? That’s… well, I couldn’t even imagine.” For Toulouse, his family meant everything. To think that Rachel was raised from such a young age to find out that her mother was just some deranged lady who’d kidnapped her? He wouldn’t have known how he’d react. No wonder she was having so many emotions the past week. Not to mention she’d robbed Rachel of things like basic human knowledge. To have never seen a grown man before sounded almost impossible. 

“So… you saw them, then? And what happened after that? I mean, obviously you found your parents eventually.” Toulouse could see she was hesitant to continue. Pausing for a moment, he shifted his positioning on the bed to get more comfortable and turned to her. “You don’t have to keep going, if you don’t want to. It’s just- I know what it’s like. To you know, go through something pretty traumatic.” He didn’t want to unload all of his trauma on her, especially not when this was supposed to be a safe time and place for her to tell him what was on her mind. Rachel deserved to tell her story with no judgement and no diversions. 

—————————————————————————————————

“Four years this month,” Rachel admitted quietly, a strange melancholy lingering in her chest. It felt like much longer, and somehow like no time had passed at all. Until recently, Rachel thought she had been doing just fine settling in. She had been doing just fine. No one had counted on her past bumping into her on the streets. Rachel didn’t expect Toulouse to understand what any of this had been like. Hell, she hardly expected him to believe her at all, what with how outlandish it must have sounded. But he hadn’t ran yet, and he hadn’t freaked out, like he promised. For that Rachel was thankful. So for all it was uncomfortable, she thought it was best to continue and leave nothing up to speculation.

“I did see the lights...” she replied, watching Toulouse carefully as he shifted on the bed. For the most part, Rachel had kept herself rather close, a knee pulled up to her chest, a comforting arm around it. There was an ever present twisting of her hair. She took another pause from her story to offer Toulouse a genuine, heartfelt smile, finding some sort of comfort in his reassurance. “Thank you, Toulouse…”

Determined not to hesitate again, Rachel buried her discomfort and went on. “It gets kind of complicated after that. Or more complicated, I guess. After we saw the lights, Fl-- the man was supposed to take me home, but he didn’t. He, uh… He brought me here, to Redwood Hollow instead. He left me at the Police Station without an explanation and I thought I would never see him again.”

“I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t know I was missing. My birthday wasn’t even my real birthday. And suddenly they were asking all these questions, trying to get me to prove that I was this missing kid and before I knew it I was meeting my real parents and testifying against ‘Mother’ in court even though I barely knew what she had done wrong. Then they realised that I knew literally nothing, and I had to go on this schooling program just so I could maybe go to college one day…”

Of course, this explained a few things, but she didn’t think it explained why she had been skipping class, and at that thought the tears sprung from her eyes. “Sorry… This is definitely not what you signed up for.”

—————————————————————————————————

Four years. Four years! Toulouse couldn’t even imagine being away from home for one let alone four. Then again, Rachel hadn’t even known that the home she was living in wasn’t home. She hadn’t suspected anything at all until that day, and even then, she had no clue what was going on. Toulouse’s head was spinning as she told the story, it getting wilder and more complicated as she told it. Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she remembered it all, but he was surprised that she was willing to tell it. 

“Wait, so if you really had no idea that you weren’t with your actual mother until this man showed up, did he recognize you? You know… after he regained consciousness,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, it’s good and all that you weren’t hurt, but that part is sort of suspicious that he would just agree to take you somewhere. Especially since he broke into the house not knowing you were there.” 

It was definitely a lot to unpack. Toulouse had a hard time imagining Rachel trying to process it all back then, especially since it must have been one hell of a shock. “I mean, I signed up to listen, didn’t I?” He reassured her. After a moment, he shook his head though. “Damn… I mean, I just can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” Running a hand through his hair, Toulouse sighed, looking back at Rachel. “I’m guessing there’s more, though, right? I mean, if that was all the past, what’s been happening now?” 

Before she could even respond, Toulouse held up a hand. “Wait,” he hesitated, laying down on the bed on his side and motioning for her to do the same. “Might as well get comfortable, right? Okay, I’m ready.”

—————

All Rachel could do at the question was shrug. By all accounts, it didn’t make any sense, but it had been advised that Rachel didn’t dwell too long on Flynn’s true intentions. “I guess he must have recognised me or something,” she replied, pulling some hair away from her neck to show a small, dark mark behind her left ear. “I have a birthmark shaped like a sun behind my ear, and I look a lot like my Mom when she was a teenager. He probably heard about the reward and when he realised who I was… It was a lucky fluke.”

A nod of her head followed when Toulouse asked if there was more. They were up-to-date and now the whole reason she hadn’t been in class was looming. All that other stuff had been easy in comparison to admitting that things weren’t going so great now. 

Rachel froze with her mouth drooped open, paused before the answer could find her tongue. Her eyebrow raised as Toulouse held up his hand and he proceeded to lie down, and she almost assumed he was preparing for a nap at how boring he was finding her story. But then he went and made her laugh quietly despite her nerves and in spite of her tears. She didn’t move immediately, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, and then with a sigh she lay down on her side, propping herself on her elbow to mirror him.

“I thought I was actually doing okay until, like, a week ago…” Rachel admitted through a sniffle.

She had to think of the best way to word this part of the story. Obviously Toulouse would know who Mr Rider was, and the last thing she wanted was for any of this to taint his opinion of him. For all he had hurt her, for all she was now convinced he hadn’t cared about her at all, Rachel still thought there was good in him, and that he deserved to be treated as fairly as anyone else. With a defeated huff, she plopped down onto the bed to stare at the ceiling, half-way painted with the beginnings of a new mural.

“So, you know the man that found me? I haven’t seen him since he left me at the station four years ago. And then just before the Hootenanny I bumped into him on the street and it was like-- I don’t know, it was like nothing had happened, and obviously I was kinda surprised but I thought that was the end of it until he, like, showed up at college.” Rachel took a moment to steady herself, in between speaking a mile a minute and crying more than she wanted to. When slightly less frantic, she glanced at Toulouse out of the corner of her eye. “You know Mr Rider, the new art teacher..? That’s him. He didn’t even say anything and I’ve just been pretending we never met because I thought I would be fine, ‘cause he seemed fine. And Cass was like oh you should tell the school and get a new teacher, it’s bad for you to talk to him and I was like no, it’s fine, I’ll be fine, nothing’s gonna happen! And now… Tada! I wanted to go to school, I really did, but I just-- I couldn’t get past the driveway.”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse could see there was a look of confusion on Rachel’s face when he asked her to wait a second. For a moment he wanted to apologize and reassure her it wasn’t a bad thing, but she seemed to come around quick enough. He could tell that she was a little emotional about all of this, but didn’t comment on it as he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. She didn’t have to hide the fact that she was upset around him, but he did feel bad that this had impacted her so greatly. “So what happened a week ago then?”

Watching her carefully as she fell on the bed, Toulouse wondered what she was thinking about. He took the opportunity to follow her gaze to the start of a beautiful painting. Smiling to himself, he turned back to give her his attention, and just in time, it seemed. When he heard the name of the man Rachel had been talking about, Toulouse nearly sprung up out of the bed. But, he had promised to keep it together, thus the most he gave in response was a wide eyed stare. “No… no way. You’re serious?” Mr. Rider had seemed cool enough, Toulouse thought, though he always got along better with his female teachers. Of course, he hadn’t really put in the effort to get to know him, but now he kind of felt like he did. At least, a part of him. 

“Wait, so Mr. Rider broke into your house? And then was still allowed to teach? How does that make any sense?” That was probably the most confusing part about all of this. Toulouse was raised with the knowledge that there were people in the world who committed crimes, but those crimes had always been followed with a consequence. Then there was the conflicting opinion of Cass, who he didn’t really know, but he had to admit they had a point. Clearly it wasn’t good for her mental health to be seeing him this soon. Not out of the blue, anyway. 

“No one is going to think less of you because you missed school, Rachel. It’s okay to take that time that you need.” Rachel was still at a very vulnerable part of her life. Toulouse recognized that, and wanted to make sure she knew that it was okay. But also, he just really wanted to give her a hug. Debating it over in his head, he finally said fuck it, why not? and decided to offer one. Nudging her gently, Toulouse motioned for her to come closer, holding his arms open. “You look like you need one,” he offered, rather meekly. 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel waited for the penny to drop, for Toulouse to lose his mind over the ordeal. Continuing the absent twist of her hair, she could see out the corner of her eye the look of total disbelief written across his face. “Mmhm. Deadly serious.”

In Rachel’s head, the whole breaking-and-entering thing was a total non-issue. She had learned enough of Flynn’s history to know why he had been breaking into her house in the first place, and by the time they were off to see the lights that detail was all but forgiven and forgotten. Cass freaked out about it because she was a police officer, so of course that made sense, but at this point Rachel couldn’t see what the big deal was about a previous thief teaching an art class. (Her judgement was quite clearly skewed in the wrong direction, it seemed.)

“Everyone gets really hung up on that part…” Rachel muttered incredulously, already having logiced her away around the dissonance of being terrified of ruffians and thugs and completely sympathising with one. She was blissfully unaware that he had done jail time for his crimes too.  “I don’t know, I guess he was just going through a rough patch a few years ago? I mean, it was petty theft. It’s not like he killed anyone.”

Rachel sniffled a few more times, and though she wasn’t totally okay, she managed to pull herself together just enough to stop sobbing. “I know…” she replied quietly. “It’s just that-- I don’t know… It’s a whole mess.” She would have lay there moping for a few more minutes had it not been for the nudge from Toulouse, which took her by surprise. With his arms open, she hesitated (Rachel never asked for hugs no matter how badly she wanted or needed one). “I do kinda need one,” Rachel admitted finally, giving a thankful smile before she scooted close enough for a good old hug. “Thanks…”

—————————————————————————————————

Toulouse could tell that she was dismissive about it. Though he didn’t want to pick an argument by trying to explain that any crime was still a crime, he also worried about her judgement of character. Deciding that wasn’t the focus of the conversation, he let it go. Obviously the college would have looked into it, right? So it was probably fine. At least, he was going to say it was for now. “Yeah.. you’re probably right, it’s probably nothing…” Even if it was just nothing, Toulouse wanted more information. For now, getting to lay down with Rachel and just comfort her would be enough. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he hummed, giving her a comforting squeeze. Besides, a good cuddle was always the best kind of thanks, really. Of course he couldn’t say that out loud —at least not yet. Toulouse didn’t break away from the hug just yet, wanting to enjoy the moment a bit longer. “But I mean… if you really want to thank me, I’d take a look at the papers I brought you. Some of them are boring school work, but a majority are fun. I made some up, and some are just fun things to do when you get bored of just sitting at home,” he explained, letting her go from the hug with a playful smile. 

“I don’t know if there was more I need to hear about, but if you want, we can take a break,” he offered. Rachel seemed to be pretty drained emotionally, and he didn’t want to push her further. “Can I ask you a silly question, though? Had you really never seen a man before? I mean, that’s pretty crazy,” he said with a chuckle. “Most of them aren’t that exciting, though, so you didn't miss much.” 

—————————————————————————————————

Rachel hoped it was nothing; she couldn't take any more curveballs at this rate. (Admittedly though, if one good thing came of this, it was that Toulouse threw a soft curveball by showing up, like a weird, cuddly saving grace.)

Just as apologising had become a force of habit, it seemed thanking people for tiny things was right up there beside it, and she had to actively think about not saying sorry for saying thank you. Her curiosity piqued at the mention of the things Toulouse has brought, pulling back just far enough to give him a flash of her raised eyebrow. She had all but forgotten he had something in his hands, you know, because she was so preoccupied with the lamp and all… "What's in the papers?" she asked, wondering if some of it was missed homework and what on earth he could have made up.

“A break would be nice. I think that’s everything…” Rachel sighed, a strange feeling of relief finally hitting her. A faint blush crept its way across Rachel’s cheeks as she nodded in admission. She wished she had been making it up, but Rachel hadn’t even laid eyes on the Postman. The house had been surrounded by a great deal of trees and high hedges, and a wall that was supposed to be unscalable. The Postman left letters in a postbox outside the garden gate, and Rachel had been forbidden from collecting any mail until the late afternoon, when he was long gone. “I wish I was kidding,” she laughed bashfully. “I mean, I’d seen men in, like, pictures in books and sometimes on TV and stuff, but never in person. I think everyone is a little bit exciting, but I don’t exactly have much to draw from.”

—————————————————————————————————

“Some missed assignments, nothing too major. Plus you have an extension to do them. I had to ask around a bit, but everything should be there,” Toulouse explained. “The ones that are made up were just in case your dad tried to take them.” Chuckling slightly, he shook his head, turning to look at her. He was glad that Rachel agreed to take a break, though he knew that sometimes when people got into slumps like this, taking a break only made them feel worse. Fortunately Toulouse was always good at making them fun. “Some of the activities are things like watching a bad movie on purpose, baking, trying a new skill, helping Toulouse with an art project, you know, just fun stuff.” 

That last activity he’d slipped in there purposely, hoping that it would peak her interest. He wanted to collaborate with her on something, if she was willing. Of course he hoped she was, otherwise he wouldn’t have put it in there, but that meant he would once again have to get past her father. Unless he came at a time the man wasn’t home; her mother seemed much more accepting of strangers into their home. 

Toulouse couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the idea of never having seen the opposite sex in person. “What about when you went to the doctor? Grocery shopping? A taxi? Surely you had to have at some point,” he further investigated. Rachel made a fair point, he supposed. There were plenty of things that each person had that might have been exciting, but as far as men go, Toulouse wasn’t very impressed. “Do you think I’m exciting?” he teased, his lips quirking into a half smile as he waited for her to answer. The feeling was mutual, if her answer was yes. Toulouse found her very exciting. Just then, the sound of the doorknob turning caught his attention as he directed his gaze toward Rachel’s door. 

—————————————————————————————————

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Rachel replied quickly, hoping that her absence hadn’t been too much of a burden on her friend. She was quite sincerely touched by the gesture and the effort, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to go out of their way for her, friend or not. “I promise my Dad isn’t that scary once you get to know him,” she insisted, though she couldn’t completely understand why Toulouse might think he would take the papers away.

“Those definitely sound like you made them up,” she laughed quietly. Fun, yes! Not real assignments? Definitely. Luckily for Toulouse, Rachel was as naive as the day was long; his not-so-subtle hints, that would have been obvious wink-wink, nudge-nudges to everyone else, went right over poor Rachel’s head and she took the bait without even realising it. “An art project?” she asked, thoroughly interested.

It occurred to Rachel that Toulouse probably didn’t realise the extent of I Never Left. She genuinely hadn’t seen another human being because she genuinely hadn’t been allowed to leave the gates of the house. “Nope. I didn’t get to go to any of those places. I… couldn’t leave.” Now, for some reason, Rachel was blushing furiously. Her only ideas as to why was being embarrassed about the not leaving thing. It obviously had nothing to do with Toulouse asking if she thought he was exciting. “I might,” she replied, trying to play it cool. She didn’t have time to offer further explanation before her bedroom door opened.

Dad’s moustache peeked around the door, the rest of his head following quickly after. He looked just as gruff as when he had answered the door, his brow pulling together when it was apparent the pair were sitting far too close for comfort on the bed. Rachel paid it no mind, and threw on her usual sunny smile (hiding the fact she had been crying moments prior).

“Your mom said I should bring you snacks…”

—————————————————————————————————

End of part one.

[hazelenergy]

@bed-of-briars​ @the-road-from-calvary​

So here’s some info on how thinblood alchemy works. Kitty, I know you asked me about it so hopefully this clears things up. Antonia, I hope this has use for you, and I may be able to plague you with more history questions soon. 

What is thinblood alchemy? 

Good fucking question. Professionally, I’d say it’s the combination of high resonances with vampiric vitae and proper catalyzing substances to replicate vampiric disciplines or new powers completely. Among friends, I say it’s walking around my haven, tits out, ingesting random household items to see what happens. 

How long has thinblood alchemy been a thing?

I’ve been trying to pinpoint how long thinblood alchemy has been around and I haven’t been able to find many sources giving concrete answers. It's like they want us eradicated so our notes and research were destroyed with us. The easy answer is thinblood alchemy started booming in the late 20th century with the drug scene. Which is true. With widespread access to technology, information, and the invention of online stores- acquiring the necessary gear is easy. 

However, thinblood alchemy has been around a lot longer. I have been fortunate enough with my thinblood safehouse project to be allowed to see old notebooks passed down from alchemists- some dating from the 1980s and one delicate diary from 1947. I’m not at all surprised when the alchemists who possess these relics feel tremendous responsibility to preserve them. But there are even rarer and older documents. The alchemy notes from the dark ages work for our formulas- if you can translate their coded notes. So in truth, thinblood alchemy has been around since the creation of clan Tremere- or even earlier. 

So how does it work?

Thinblood alchemy is not like other disciplines you may have seen or used. Lots of kindred of the 13th generation or lower are embraced and immediately possess control of their disciplines. Most alchemists wouldn’t describe their craft as something that came naturally to them- it took weeks, months, or even years to experiment and find what works. Additionally, this is not a practice for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. To get the necessary ingredients requires some unsavory acts- it is a fact as true as the beast within us. 

Across the board, you need vitae. Doesn’t always have to be yours but it is awfully convenient to use what you’ve got inside. Cool you got blood, and it's yours because it’s in your possession. Now what? You need something to put it in. But it can’t be just anything. Much like a tremere needs very specific tools to do some rituals, thinblood alchemists need an alchemical cauldron or furnace. There are currently three possible ways to procure such a furnace which have developed into the three distillation methods.

The first is my preferred method. The fancy latin some of us use is Athanor Corporis, meaning furnace body. I utilize my own stomach as my alchemical cauldron. After eating or drinking the necessary ingredients, I can will the blood to ignite the furnace. Most of the time it just kinda feels like a heat radiating beneath my ribcage. On occasion it has felt as bad as taking rapid fire bullets to my gut and then pouring vinegar onto the holes...but it's rare. The benefit of this method is it allows me to keep the power or discipline in my system for extended periods of time- sometimes even as long as a month. I also can travel a lot of the ingredients on my person, swallow them, and then hunt down the right resonance. It's a very versatile method that lends itself well to being discreet. The downside is, this is a one power at a time method. If I consume a new formula, it replaces the original power. Which is a bummer and why proper planning is important. Additionally, not every thinblood has the gullet to do this. I can speak from very personal experience that I have eaten and swallowed some terrible tasting things. There are some that even I found myself vomiting back up and then immediately racked with hunger. Those that use this method have given some extreme criticism that they had to train themselves to keep stuff down or chase it with so much vitae that they nearly bond themselves. 

The second method I find morally uncomfortable and I refuse to try it. This one’s called calcinato. Instead of using your own body- which you know can’t die from drinking bleach because it's already dead, you use human vessels. You can emotionally manipulate them to match the resonance you need. You can also use drugs. You can also use sex. Then you feed them with the proper ingredients and your own vitae, and their entire body activates the formula. The alchemist can then drink a number of doses from that vessel until their resonance changes or there’s no blood left. There are a few benefits to this method. I have a sharp nose which allows me to smell resonances. I imagine that if I lacked this innate ability, finding and tapping resonances would be far more difficult or left to chance. This ensures you are getting a specific resonance every time. Additionally, the time it takes to drink from that vessel can be faster than I can swallow new ingredients and will the blood to brew. I’d possibly be hungrier, they could be full. Lastly, a thinblood that uses this method is possibly in the enviable position of possessing a herd. If they are, they could easily have multiple brews in many people- making them more prepared than I could be with pockets full of magnets. The downsides to this method are numerous- besides my personal grievances. The first is that this method quickly lends itself to masquerade breaches. Taking a bite from your vessel in the open is not a possibility if you care to play the masquerade game. Secondly, if you are separated from your vessel, what do you do? If the alchemist is someone who coerced or drugged their victims into doing this, what happens when they escape? And if they do possess a herd, what happens when your stock is depleted? Agh, it makes my stomach turn just referring to people like that ew. The second issue is the same as the first method- one power per body. 

The third method is more common but harder to distill. This method closely mirrors actual alchemy from the dark ages, where all the ingredients are poured into the athanor and distilled inside. The furnace needs to be able to conduct heat. You can use a kiln, a metalworking furnace, or modern inventions like an electric pressure cooker or as its nickname “cooking” suggests, get a meth cooker. Some asshole dubbed it fixatio once trying to give it a better street name. But since Breaking Bad aired, that name is never going to stick. Once distilled, the resulting formula can be bagged or bottled for future use. This method has the most benefits- but also the most disadvantages. It’s that reason I prefer the first method, but I have dabbled into this one to expand my knowledge.  The first benefit is that the alchemy is portable. You don’t have to hunt or lead a vessel around. You can hold a lot of different formulas inside jackets, backpacks, pockets, or my favorite i’ve ever seen- a ren faire waterskin. You can be prepared for lots of encounters, but it still takes time to imbibe the entire dose. The other benefit is its lucrative possibilities. Selling these means money in pockets. And money lets you go buy more weird shit for more alchemy. It’s also excellent for quick favors. The downsides are you have to be cautious of who you’re selling to. A lot of alchemists who use this are also drug dealers and plenty of final deaths have occured from people selling on someone else’s turf. Additionally, each brewed formula is unique to their alchemist. In intelligent hands cough TREMERE (or even an alchemist armed with Tremere secrets) it can be traced back to you… or worse. Travelling around with blood bags, vials, or a waterskin can be tricky too. You have to take care that you don’t burst or break any of these creations. Oh you fell? Better hide that pool of blood spilling out from your sweatshirt pocket. On top of that, most of these aren’t shelf stable. And even if they are kept cold- some still can’t make it more than a few days before it spoils. Like the two methods before, it is a one power at a time rule. Once consumed, you gotta use whatever you drank immediately or it will fade. Lastly, the reason this is more difficult is because it requires more powerful ingredients and a stationary lab. Substitutions don’t tend to work- you gotta have the best you can get. Which gets difficult when high level preparations demand rarer and rarer ingredients.

Each alchemist is going to have their own research methods, however most of us are resorting to trial and error. However, we unanimously agree that you need to brush up on modern chemistry and learn how to hunt for specific resonances. I’ve come to learn that my sharp nose is a trait not just present in thinbloods and by some older kindred it has been dubbed “bloodhound.” I have been fortunate that I don’t need to rely on wit and observation to figure out what resonance my potential victim has. I smell it. However, those without this ability have to learn to pinpoint emotional responses and their corresponding resonance. Put simply, there are five possible resonances: Melancholic, Phlegmatic, Choleric, Sanguine, and Absent. Melancholic resonances tend to be associated with relaxation and calmness but also sadness and fear. Easy targets are stoners, funeral goers, and horror movie newbies. To me, this has an overwhelming sour smell and tart taste. Phlegmatic is content and happiness, but can also be feeling in control. This one can be one of the hardest to pinpoint, since happy feelings blend so effectively with choleric and sanguine resonances. Phlegmatic resonances have a salty smell to them. Choleric is rage and anger, but it also can be passionate and driven. Choleric resonances are typically spicy flavors, and are some of the easiest to recognize. It’s hard to mistake true anger for anything else. Sanguine is also joy and happiness, but also includes how horny someone is. Sanguine resonances are easy to find in flirtatious club goers and generally have a sugar sweet aroma. Lastly, there are those who are completely uncaring and have no resonance. This apathy is extremely difficult to pinpoint- even with my nose as it has the smell of nothing. The only distinguishable thing is that it has an overpowering bitter taste. 

Regardless of whether or not a thinblood is an alchemist, they can take advantage of these resonances to grant themselves temporary power. Most kindred need the resonance to be exceptionally potent to gain these benefits. However, thinbloods are hypersensitive to even fleeting resonances. Most of us have pieced the puzzle together that biting into a club goer equals a bit of presence for the next couple hours. But for alchemists, especially those brewing outside the body, hunting and preserving these resonances is essential for alchemy. Most resonances flicker away within fifteen minutes out of a body, so you have to act fast to get it into the formula and start brewing. 

Once the proper resonance is obtained and mixed with ingredients in the furnace, it’s pretty obvious of whether or not it worked. If it works, you have the discipline or new power until the brew is used up. If it fails, at best nothing happens. At worst, I’ve had some rough stomach aches if brewed internally. I’ve also had some mild explosions or acid seep through objects. Failure can be devastating. But it’s just a fact of the practice. 

So if it's a practice, why can only thinbloods do this?

I don’t know. I don’t think lower gen kindred can learn this. Looking at how disciplines can be gained for older vampires doesn’t seem to match how thinblood alchemy works. It much more closely resembles the paths that Tremere apprentices can choose to learn- but even they couldn’t pick up these tricks. My adoptive sire, a Tremere, tried to mimic our findings and found she could not will the blood like I or my coterie mates could. Perhaps this was part of her clan’s history and curse. However, I’ve not had other clans ever try. To most, the thought of consuming anything but blood churns their undead stomach. Some of you can’t even ingest bagged blood. The ability to eat is a rare trait in older kindred but fairly common for thinbloods. Perhaps this is why it works for us.

Additionally, thinblood alchemy allows us to replicate disciplines but also create new powers entirely. These powers may be unusable to the other clans. And I don’t mean that in the secretive way that Necromancy or Levinbolt is. Your blood is too strong and therefore isn’t affected by the slight changes in resonance and mere drops of vitae in a brew. But to a hungry thinblood, three drops of vitae, some fridge magnets, and choleric blood means we have telekinesis. 

I’m young. And if I keep playing my cards right and brewing my alchemy correctly, I’ll still be here in 40 years and hopefully can refute this entire thing with the years of knowledge I possess. But I hope this answers some questions to how alchemy works, and leaves you with plenty more for us to bargain favors for answers.

[writingstuffandmore]

EXO Reaction to their gf dancing to the songs of Beyonce

A/N:- None of the GIFs belong to me.. A major thanks to all the GIF makers. ☺️

Hi love.. I am so sorry for the delay. Quite a things happened. I wanna say a few things, 1. I will include Jongdae in this reaction as I got it before he gave the beautiful news. 2. Don't kill me because I sorta have changed the settings for a few members because I wasn't getting too good ideas. 3. One or two members reaction is a bit suggestive. I hope that you will like !! Suggestions and feedback are always welcome 😊

Kim Minseok

You were preparing dinner for both you and him. It had been a long time since you both had a proper meal together in peace.

You were going to chop the vegetables that's when an idea of playing songs struck in your mind. Connecting your phone with the bluetooth speaker and starting with Beyonce's songs. After all her songs bring the lost motivation and energy, so here we go with slowly and gradually one song to another to turning into a live Concert.

On the other hand, Minseok became free quite early and directly set off for home. He was looking forward to this day and since, he got relieved quite early he would be able to help you in preparing dinner and spend more time. With a lovesick smile he drove his car.

After 10 mins he reached home. He locked his car and took out the spare key from his pocket and unlocked the door of your house. He likes to be quiet so that he could give you a hug from behind and see your reaction. As soon as he entered instead of hearing the running of mixer grinder or the tap running in washer he was met by songs playing at a high volume looking like some Concert.

Further, entering he saw you singing to your mic aka the knife with the half cut vegs lying on chopper. He waited till the song got over, carefully watching your each and every move with an amusement smile on his face.

As soon as the song got over. He closed the phone.

Y/N:- Did the battery of m-

Minseok:- Well, hello. I must say you were killing those moves.

Y/N (cheeks tinted):- W-when did you come?

Minseok (with a smirk on his face):- Like 5 mins not more than that. By your appearance. I guess I missed a lot. Nevermind let's do it together now.

Kim Junmyeon

"That might have been a great show!" along with came a low whistle. Your eyes were wide as saucers. ,"Damn it!" You muttered under your breath and turned yourself around to the source.

10 mins ago..

You were cleaning the house. Yes, you were like half hour before but not now. Right now, You were standing in front of your boyfriend nothing but his sweatshirt and bunny with hair in a messy knot. You planned to clean the house by yourself before Junmyeon came because he coming home very late and since he planned that you both will clean the house together won't be possible and you wished that the leader nim take a well deserved rest. So, you took the whole matters in your hands but guess what, Beyonce's 'Run the world' has such an influence and energy who could have resisted it.

You are now standing with the handle of your mop in your hand, it's bucket lying the other corner and Suho having a soft smile on his face.

Y/N:- "I can explain. I-"

Suho:- "You were going to clean the whole house, so that I could rest. And also, Beyonce's songs have the influence which no one can resist. So, now we will clean up together but at the same time I want a private show."

He particularly emphasised on the last two words.

Zhang Yixing

You were doing some warm up before beginning the practice of the steps taught in the previous class of aerobics before today's class You took these classes in the evening on Fridays and Saturdays.

Since, today was off from work you thought to some practice and exercise before the class begins in evening.

Playing up the beats of the songs used in aerobics you began your practice.

After, a rigorous practice of about 30-40 mins a well deserved break was taken. You were scrolling through some news feeds and that's when you saw your favourite singer's Beyonce's interview. Her latest album was launched and she came for its promotion. While talking about her songs, her most favourite ones and future endeavors, your mind suddenly got struck with one of her songs' lyrics. Searching up the song on youtube with the few words you somehow got the song. That's it 'Run The World' !! It was one of your favourite songs and you had your own signature moves dedicated to it.

You didn't realize when did Lay entered into the house from his gym. Now, the only thing you know is that both of you are dancing to Beyonce for the past 15 mins together.

Lay:- That was so much fun!!

Y/N:- Yeah.. When did you came? I didn't heard the bell tho.

Lay:- I entered by unlocking the door using the key. I forgot that you were at home. The next time and also in future too we will try to dance together. We could practice our moves and have fun. I really enjoyed it.

He exaclaimed with a bright smile and hope in his eyes.

Y/N:- Of course!! That will make us spend more time together.

Byun Baekhyun

You had planned a small party at your house because finally its time when holidays will begin and plus, it had been quite a time since you, your girls and all the boys hadn't spent some time together. So, you arranged a small get together.

It was around time when all the preparations were done and you went to change for clothes into a pair of black denim high waist shorts and a white slit back self tie wrap crop top. You did a mild make up and hair all straightened. You looked cute yet sexy.

After sometime, everyone came except for Baekhyun. Sehun explained that Baek had a quick meeting with his manager related to his some fashion projects. You understood the situation but felt bad that Baekhyun might come very late when the party gets over or something. Soon, this thought went out of your mind when Kai, Sehun, Rose, Pearl placed a bet whether you could ever dance and remember moves of your signatory song Partition. When they informed you about it your were in absolute horror. You gave them a look 'you can't do this to me'. Pearl motivated you and wished you luck before playing your song. You took a deep breath and stood in the center of dance floor. The music started up and you started to flow in the beats.

Baekhyun reached the party on time. By on time I mean, when your most sensual yet sexy moves which can make anyone's mind wander off and can't be anything in awe. He quitely entered inside so that whatever happenings are going don't get disturbed. He caught Chanyeol's eye but he only winked at himself and gave a look which made him to come infront. Baekhyun's eyes were wide has saucers. Why? you ask, because there you were bent down doing a few hip thrusts and with a dark predatory gaze in your eyes. Throughout the performance, Baekhyun was getting turned on by performance and more after when you both locked eyes with each other but at the same time he was getting annoyed, 1. People whistled and cooed. 2. The way you were dancing, he wanted nothing but that you two should have done in a private setting. After a few mins, the performance got over. The audience cheered for you and applauded. Baekhyun came and gripped your wrist and took you to a corner.

Before, you could say anything he began to speak.

Baekhyun:- What was that? What did you just do? (He sounded more like rude and disappointed which made you sad)

Y/N:- (in a sad, low and timid voice) I thought that you will like it. This is the performance about which all these people talked about it to you. The reason w-why i did this performance was becau-

He kissed you softly before whispering in your ear.

Baekhyun:- I am so sorry love if you felt in that way. You did really so well. It was great. I meant that you just made me.

*He took your hand placed over his crotch and continued*, Hard and turned on. If wanna save from the punishment. You know what to do.

Kim Jongdae

You were drown in the file, official, presentation etc papers. Its all papers everywhere!!

Your boss out of nowhere kept a meeting upon the recent activities about starting or completion of projects, targets achieved or to be achieved, future plans and what not. Its not that Surprised meetings can't happen but the fact that your boss planned to this because He wanted to impress the CEO so that he could final his seat or should I say be a contender to be the Vice President.

'Stupid' you muttered under your breath. You were massaging your temples and removed your glasses. You were done. You were so done with your boss and all the papers lying. You opened your phone and played 7/11 , a song which lifts up your mood. So, playing this song on repeat. You slowly started swaying your body to its beat.

While that time Chen brought a cup of coffee for you. He knows how coffee can relax you to an extent. So, he quitely entered into the door so that he couldn't disturb you. Upon entering in, he saw you being the next Beyonce Knowles. The way you were singing and dancing made him hard to control his laughter. Its not that you were looking crazy or something, its just that you looked too adorable and cute. Keeping the mug on table, he left a small note and went out because he knew that you will all be shy and he can't miss the teasing remarks which he can there at you.

After your break got over, you went back to your desk and saw a cup of coffee along with a small note.. Even before you read the message, you knew that you were in some trouble.

Jongdae:- Hey, Babe!!! I have made your favourite coffee just the way you like it. I know that i am the best boyfriend ever ! (^^)

Just one more thing, I might have seen your little performance and to my 'little' judgement you need to work more on your vocals and you still can't match my Chensing Machine style!

Park Chanyeol

You were going to take a warm shower. So, you closed the door of your room and connected your phone to your speaker in room and went into the bathroom. It was a nice regular routine for you as it helped you to relieved of your day's stress and tensions.

While Chanyeol just entered into your shared apartment. He dropped his duffel bag down, removed his shoes and went into the kitchen to take a glass of water. After, having refreshments and relaxing down did he realize that someone was missing, and that someone was you his gf. Frantically, he stood up and first checked whether your shoes were there or not. If you weren't, then you might be returning back but considering the fact that you told him a few days back that your leaves were going to get expired, so you would be taking two days off together before the weekend which according to his calculation was from today. Seeing up the shoes, he was sure that you were here. Calling your name and searching for you began. He was about to enter into your shared room that's when he heard a high pitch voice, a voice that someone is screaming/shouting, scared that someone might have abducted you the thought ran in his head and he grabbed the near by vase. He started thrashing the door and shouting which made you startle when the bangings grew more and more. Typing up your bath robe, you came out and opened the door to a red as a beetroot Chanyeol who was heaving and the vase was about to break.

Chanyeol:- Where are they?

See you ;)

Y/N:- Park Chanyeol! What the hell and who they?

Chanyeol:- what do you mean by they? The ones who captured you.

Y/N:- Umm, Chanyeol if you are still impacted by yesterday's movie, then I am not sure because I was taking a shower while playing Beyonce's song. 

Chanyeol:- Oops.. Sorry and would you mind if I join? 

Y/N:- No, get lost

DO Kyungsoo

You had a group singing competition coming up in your college and kyungsoo had taken the responsibility to help you and practice more. You guys had taken Beyonce's Pretty Hurt's

Kyungsoo:- Jagi, take his part slow, okay? If you want we can take a five minute break.

Y/N:- Okay Oppa.

Kyungsoo left you in the drawing room and went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks and warm tea of honey for you. While that time, you rehearsed the song again before the next came and next, all these slowly building up your confidence and the next thing you know is that a rock concert is going on.

Kyungsoo had quitely slipped onto the sofa in drawing room watching you perform. He was highly amused yet proud that your skills have improved over the time. That's when the concert got over and you turned around to be met by a pair of deep brown eyes shining bright.

Y/N:- I am sorry. I got carried away.

Kyungsoo:- That's fine love. Your vocals are getting better day by day. Let's eat and after that we will begin again.

Kim Jongin

Both you and Jongin were practicing some dance moves together. Especially, the choreography of his new solo. The new song is really soft, heart touching and everyone is looking forward to it especially Jongin as he took part in both the composition of song and its choreography.

You both took some break and sat down that's when Jongin's phone rang and mouthed 5 mins and you nodded in response.

With that Jongin went out of the practice room while you sat with your phone in your hand. While scrolling through your Instagram did you come to know that Beyonce had released a new song. Being all excited and giddy you played up her song and sang the lyrics before mustering up the courage before you pulled yourself up and started dancing.

While his call got over then expected and he was about to enter into his assigned room but he stopped in his tracks because the music coming out of his room wasn't related to his song, so he checked again before entering. He slowly opened the door to find you dancing to the recent song of Beyonce and damn the way you were swaying your hips to the beats. He tip toed and paused the song in between which made you turn your head in horror.

Y/N:- Oops, When did you enter?

Jongin:- Having all the fun without me uh? I just came a minute ago and now we both will dance on this song together and then we have our very own dance battle!

Ooh Sehun

You had an important play coming up for your annual fest of university. You were part of the dance and drama team and most importantly you were main dancer which was something totally different for you. Your song was Beyonce's Broken Hearted Girl, and Man the feels of this song is of next level. The emotions!

Today was your final rehearsal before the event and you hadn't told Sehun about it because you wanted to try it out yourself and then know his reaction. You called him up

Y/N:- Hi, Oppa.

Sehun:- Hi, Jagi. I am so excited for your performance especially when you said that it's a surprise. Let's see you at 5 then. Okay?

Y/N:- Sure Oppa.. See ya. Love you...

You ended up the call and went to get ready for your performance. Time was at its slow pace today, that's what you felt maybe because you were nervous and all. That's when the anchor announced the next performer which was your group. Taking a deep breath and wishing each other luck you all took positions.

With the music flowing in, you all started your performance. Sehun was sitting in the front room and damn did he ever that you were part of this group and especially being the main dancer and protagonist. You both made an eye contact, that's it. The expressions and emotions which gracing your face and through your movements captured the attention of not only Sehun's but the whole audience. It was such a beautiful performance.

The performance ended with a burst of applause and standing ovation. Sehun came to the back stage and greeted you.

Sehun:- Wow, I didn't knew that my girl was this amazing and great!

Y/N:- Thank you so much Oppa. It means a lot!!

He kissed your forehead before he continued:- Before we go! Let's click some selcas. After, all she is the girl friend of the most popular and fantabulous star Ooh Sehun. No need for applause.

Y/N:- Yah! Shut up.

Sehun:- I love you more.

[connorspiracy]

Santa Paws Is Coming To Town || Connor & Miriam

Timing: After Mim’s Solo Setting: Your normal White Crest neighborhood Parties: @connorspiracy and @meflemming Content: N/A Summary: Connor has an unexpected encounter with a bleeding heart vampire.

After a long night of petting Penny’s fur as the dog slumbered by Miriam’s side, the vampire finally decided that she needed to take the dog somewhere safe. Pets were not for people like her, especially sweet dogs that had it in their stupidly big hearts and tiny heads to be comforted by their owner’s killer. She found the dog’s leash, and led her to the door. It was still early, too early for the sun to be out yet, but Miriam knew it was less than an hour away. She’d need to be quick about this. The shelter was quite a walk away, and she wasn’t as familiar with it as other locations that she’d frequented in her youth. She could only hope that she could make it there in time and not end up stuck under a bush or in the sewers until sunset. Walking along with Penny at her side, Miriam was surprised to see someone else out at this hour. “Hello?” she called out, unsure what someone who looked so young was doing outside at such an early hour. 

The winter night bit Connor with its chill. He wore a padded, fleece-lined panel coat over a cozy hooded sweatshirt, hat, gloves, scarf, and still his hands trembled and his breath frosted on the air. He’d hoped to catch something interesting happening during the winter solstice, but either he was in the wrong place at the wrong time or White Crest had decided to be quiet for once. He’d put his camera away and was getting ready to head to his Jeep when he heard the stranger’s voice. Connor turned, looking towards the voice. “Oh, hey,” he said, a jovial smile on his face. He held up his camera bag for her to see. “Don’t mind me. I was just doing some night filming.” His eyes fell on the beautiful Golden Retriever at her side and he had to hold himself back from gushing. “Gorgeous dog,” he said, smile widening a bit. “Can I pet her?”

The way the boy in front of her was dressed reminded Miriam how ill-fitted her clothes were for the weather, and how she was just as cold on the inside as the temperature was on the outside. Oh, well. She hadn’t expected to have to put up appearances so early. Instead, she gave the young man an easy smile. “Night filming? Do you often do that in below freezing conditions?” Kids these days seemed to enjoy such reckless behavior. Then again, she had been no different, there were, no doubt, videos of her being silly and reckless in college, though they were likely hard to find. Anyone that would have had such videos was long dead. Miriam blinked, looking down at the dog, and then back to the boy. “Oh, well, thank you. She’s not mine, actually, but you’re welcome to pet her. She’s quite friendly.” A bit too friendly, truly.

Connor gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “Well, I think it’d be lying so say I don’t. But the below freezing part isn’t exactly ideal. I’m just trying to get good footage.” Of what, he didn’t say, but he wouldn’t lie if she asked. Connor was never one to resist the opportunity to pet a dog, and even his most skeptical brain cells wouldn’t fight this opportunity, so he smiled, leaning in to gently ruffle her ears and scratch the back of her head. “Oh yeah? You pet sitting?”

“Well, do be careful. It’s rather dangerous out so late. It’s always darkest before the dawn,” Miriam said. Then, she raised a careful eyebrow. “Did you? Get any good footage?” She shifted a bit on her feet, watching the young man as he petted the dog. “Her owner passed quite recently, actually.” By Miriam’s own hand, though that wasn’t proper to say. Penny, for her part, seemed to be eating up the young man’s attention, making happy little noises that dogs tended to make. She was the reason this dog would never see her owner again. Miriam was the reason that some family would never see that man again. She was-- “I’m just here to make sure that she ends up in a good home,” she said, stroking one of the dog’s silky ears.

"I'm always careful," Connor lied. Although since he now had both Jasmine and Rio on his case about the whole hospital thing, he'd play it mildly safe, at least for a little while. Or unless something really exciting happened. "Nah, nothing exciting tonight, unfortunately," he said with a shrug. Connor narrowed his eyes sadly at Miriam's proclamation that the dog's owner had recently passed away, and he fussed under her muzzle. "Aw, I'm sorry. Right at Christmas too?" He kissed the dog on her little fuzzy forehead. "Nobody should lose their family right around Christmas.” He looked up at what he assumed was the kind woman trying to find this poor little sweetheart a new home. “That’s really nice of you, to help. Did you have someone already?” 

“I’m sure,” Miriam hummed out. “People your age are always so careful.” Humans. For such fragile creatures, they tended to do the most dangerously stupid things. It was as endearing as it was concerning. She couldn’t remember a time when her bones did not right themselves and her skin did not sew itself together quickly. She did not remember what it meant to have to be careful. “Perhaps that’s a good thing, for a night like tonight.” It would be a cold, miserable holiday for some. “Yes, it’s quite unfortunate.” And she was the cause. Because she lashed out. Because she couldn’t take the thought of someone telling her what to do, even if it had been something she was planning. “I owe her as much,” she said softly, looking at the dog. “I don’t have anyone in mind. I was taking her to the shelter, actually.” She was going to force them to ensure Penny went to a good home. Someone would want a sweet dog for the holidays. She just knew it.

“Well, I’m older than I look,” Connor laughed. He didn’t catch the hidden meaning behind her words, but that was probably just as well. He didn’t really want to know that this nice lady who was so concerned about the poor dog had just spent her night murdering its owner. “That sucks,” he said, pursing his lips. “She’ll be alone at the shelter for Christmas, all confused and upset…” Yeah, she didn’t know it was Christmas but that didn’t make it any better. “Bloody breaks my heart, man. Are you sure there aren’t any family or friends who can take her?”

“You do look rather young,” Miriam said with a smirk, especially when he was all bundled up like a child on a snow day. “It’s-- It’s awful, yes.” She swallowed hard, feeling something wretched knotting itself in her throat before she forced it down. No, stop it. She was doing a good thing. She could at least do a good thing. The owner (Thomas Klein; his name was etched into her brain, now) was inconsequential. He was dead. But she could at least help the dog. She was an innocent. “I intend to do everything in my power to ensure she’s well taken care of and brought into a loving home as soon as possible,” Miriam stated. She’d compel every damn worker in the shelter if she had to. “No, no I don’t believe there is,” she lied easily. The owner had friends, had family, but she didn’t know if any of them would take the sweet dog in. What if they didn’t give her the kindness she deserved? Miriam had to make sure she was taken care of.

“I’m almost twenty-four.” Yeah, it was still young, but most people assumed Connor was in his late teens. Twenty-one at the oldest. He’d been denied beer even with his ID more times than he could count. This really sucked. This dog and the owner had probably been each other’s only companions, and now they were both alone, the owner in one life and her in another. “Do you work for the shelter or something?” he asked, genuinely curious, still fussing the dog while they talked. “I don’t know how they manage it. I’d probably end up wanting to take home every single dog,” he laughed sadly. “I don’t think they rehome over Christmas though. To discourage people from giving them as gifts.”

Miriam’s eyes widened a bit. “I… wouldn’t have guessed that. Sorry, sweetness. You’ve got a bit of a babyface.” She wondered, briefly, if he was fucking with her, but age was a rather ridiculous thing to lie about to a stranger in the middle of the street in the early hours of the morning. The early hours when the sun would be rising, and soon. Miriam couldn’t linger here for long. “No, no, I’m just… a very charming and persuasive person when I’m inclined, and I’m usually inclined. I have no doubt I can make them see my way.” She gave the young man a pleasant smile, but it quickly faded to worry. She hadn’t thought of any of that. “Oh. That’s-- I wonder when they’ll start rehoming. I don’t want her to be alone.” She bit the inside of her lip. “I live a bit of busy lifestyle, wholly unsuited to care for a dog properly, and I have someone living with me and don’t want to burden her with the upkeep of a pet. She deserves better than that. Otherwise I would take this sweet girl in a heartbeat.” One of his, not one of hers. She’d be waiting a long time for that heartbeat, were that the case.

“It’s fine, I get that all the time.” Connor shrugged it off. He made plenty of jokes about his own babyface. It didn’t matter if someone else did, too. He didn’t think to wonder what Miriam’s motive was. Why should he? Helping to rehome a dog was something almost any decent person would have done. He had no idea of her nefarious reasons, of the guilt she was trying to mask, the crimes she was trying to atone for. “I think some time in January,” he shrugged. “I only know because I checked the website recently. I’ve… kinda been thinking of going there, actually.” He almost kept his next words to himself, but it wasn’t like Connor to hold back. He rubbed the back of his neck with a small chuckle. “Do you want… I mean… I could take her.” He immediately shook his head. “That’s stupid. You don’t even know me. Sorry.”

“That’s such a long time,” Miriam muttered, clenching Penny’s leash tightly in her hand as she thought about the poor creature being stuck at a shelter for weeks all because she was cruel. You’re a monster and a liar! Morgan’s voice rang in her head like a damned bell. She was. She was. She should own it. She should… She should find this dog a home. She narrowed her eyes at the boy. “You would take her?” He seemed sincere. He mentioned that he was looking for a dog and had been for sometime. This could be good, but she needed to make sure. “It’s not stupid if you’re sincere. Are you? Dog’s are a big responsibility. They mustn’t be dragged out into the cold to go videotaping things because they might be interesting,” she said sternly.

Her gaze felt penetrating. As if she was the type of person who you couldn’t hide anything from. Connor looked at the dog, a happy, innocent, loving creature who hadn’t done anything wrong, who needed somewhere to call home. “I mean, yeah. I love dogs. I live alone. I work for myself. I make my own schedule, and one of my best friends has a dog, and we go hiking and stuff together all the time.” As much as Connor might not have wanted to leave the dog at home, the stranger was right about taking her out filming. He ran into dangerous things far too often. What if one of those bugs had got her? “Yeah, totally.”

The sun was going to start rising any minute now. Miriam needed to figure this out. Here was this boy, earnest and seemingly kind, standing in front of her and willing to do what was necessary. This was a better option than a shelter. It had to be. She gave a quick nod. “Right.” Smiling charmingly, she compelled the boy. “You will make sure that this dog receives the proper amount of attention, care, and love that she needs to be happy. It is of the utmost importance that she is well loved.” She dug around in her pocket and frowned when she found it empty. “I would give you my card, but I don’t have one on me. My name is Mim. Mim Flemming, owner of Flemming Leather. Should you need anything, you only have to reach out to the store and have my assistant patch you through to me or contact me online. If the dog needs anything, anything, you will let me know, understood?” She should get going. She didn’t even know this boy’s name. “Take care of her. She responds to Penny, but she’s quite young, I believe. I really must go.” She handed the boy the leash and patted his gloved hand. Bending down, she gave the dog a reluctant pat goodbye. Again, she repeated, a bit more gently, “Take care of her. And, well, Merry Christmas, I suppose.”

Connor had always been impulsive and big-hearted, so why should tonight be any different? He was still sort of processing what had just happened when the woman handed him the leash and practically disappeared into the night. White Crest really was a strange place, but this was far from the strangest interaction he’d had. “Uh, okay. Thanks? Bye?” he called after her, turning back to the dog and giving her more pets. “Guess we’ve got some shopping to do as soon as the stores open in a couple hours, babe,” he said, patting the side of her neck. “Okay, let’s go, Penny.” Hm. That didn’t sound right. He didn’t want to disrespect her old owner or anything, but she just didn’t feel like a Penny. But then, what was he going to call her? He started walking her back to his car, securing her in the back and taking her home. He unloaded his things, and as he did so, his eyes fell on the logo of his Nikon Z 50 Camera bag. “Hm,” he pondered, taking her leash again. “Nico, you like that?” he asked, smiling. “Yeah, sounds good. Let’s go inside.” 

[cynicallystiles]

Always Here

Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request:  Anon: Could you write one with Justin? Like maybe something like they’re together but it’s a secret. And one day they’re at his and Clays place cuddling and being cute and then Clay catches them? Cuddling with Justin just seems like the sweetest thing tbh

Warning: Verbally abusive parent, and maybe cursing? I can’t remember.

Notes: Thank you for requesting it, I hope it is somewhat like you imagined anon! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy!

Pairing: Justin Foley x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2,001

You feel his lips move against yours slowly as his fingers press into your waist. A content hum escapes your throat and both hands grip his hair a little bit harder. Delicately, you drag your tongue across his bottom lip. His hands squeeze even harder as he groans involuntarily while pulling away from you.

"Wait, wait, wait," he pauses, letting his heavy pants calm down. "As much as I love when you do that..." He stops and looks from your eyes to your lips longingly, "and I really, really love when you do that...we should stop before we get caught," he sighs, looking around the abandoned hallway for any sign of your classmates.

Pushing your bottom lip out, you let your head fall backward dramatically. "Uggh," you groan playfully and slide your hands from his hair to his chest to grip his open button-up.

"Heyy," he chuckles, trying to lean his head into your line of sight. You let your head fall back forward to face him, though your eyes watch as your fingers trail the fabric of his shirt. "Y/n, don't pout."

You bobble your head a little, raising one eyebrow. "'M not pouting," you murmur. He lets out a huff, and you finally crack a smile. "I'm not. Really. Justin, I know we both decided to keep this...us...a secret..."

"But?" He prompts you to continue when you start to lose your confidence.

"I dunno," you say with a shrug. "That was back when everything crazy was happening." You finally look up into his eyes. "It's been almost a year...I just thought by now I could show you off."

He laughs and pulls you into a hug by your shoulders. You clasp your hands behind his back quickly before he pulls back again, cupping your face with one hand. "Now still isn't a good time...I wasn't supposed to start dating until I've been sober for a year. And even then, they say I'm supposed to take it slow-"

"Oh, you can take it slow when you want to," you tease, nibbling on your bottom lip. He rolls his eyes, fighting the laughter that bubbles up. Sighing, you place your hand over his. "I get it. We can just...stay secret until it's a better time."

He leans forward and places the softest of kisses on your lips for a few moments. "Thank you, baby. I appreciate you so much." You give a lackluster smile as he brushes your nose with his.

"Bell's about to ring...I should get to my locker," you say softly, unable to hide the tinge of disappointment that comes out. But, before Justin can reassure you again, you're already out the double doors into the next hallway.

Later, you sit at the lunch table with your group of friends and zone out into your food as you take a small bite every once in a while. You hear your friends laugh around you, but it's not until Clay bumps your shoulder with his that you look up to meet his eyes.

"Huh? What?" You ask, blinking in surprise.

He snickers a little. "I said you've been unusually quiet today," he says observantly. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh..." your eyes flick across the table to Justin who looks at you with brows furrowed in concern. Just as quickly, you look back to Clay. "I've just been feeling off today. I think I might be sick or something," you half-lie.

Clay promptly puts his wrist to your forehead. "There's no way...yep. As I thought, no fever," he says shaking his head as he looks you over. He pulls on your ear as he pretends to look in. "Nope, nothing in there..." Then, he leans his head to your chest for your heartbeat. "All good there..."

"Stop!" You giggle trying to push him away.

"What? I'm just trying to make sure my best friend is getting the proper attention she deserves," he laughs. "Give me an 'aaah'."

You stick your tongue out at him but keep your mouth closed. "Mmm," you hum before snickering with him. "I feel better now. Thanks, Clay."

"Another satisfied patient!" He jokes and you shake your head before getting up to throw your tray away.

Justin rests his forearms on the table as he watches as you go, slight jealousy burning in his cheeks that Clay is being so openly affectionate with you. He knows the two of you are best friends, and he loves that. But, sometimes he wishes he could be like that and more with you.

The rest of the day goes by and the final bell rings to let out for the day. You gather your things. Deciding not to get a ride home from Clay and Justin, you hop on the bus that goes by your house. As soon as the bus pulls out of the parking lot, you get a text.

JJ: Where you at?

Sighing, you respond quickly.

You: Took the bus today, didn't wanna make you late for your meeting

It wasn't a total lie. It just wasn't exactly the truth either. You'd been feeling bummed about your conversation earlier and you didn't want to make Justin feel bad about your mood.

JJ: Wish you would've told me. We would've at least walked you to the bus babe

You: I know. I'll stop by after your meeting while Clay's at work

You lean your head against the window as the bus rocks gently. You were really hoping that you'd be out of your weird mood by then. Too bad you can never seem to catch a break. As soon as you get home, the usual drama starts in.

"You're home early today," your brother pointed out, calling the attention of your dear mother.

Inhaling deeply, you retreat into the living room where she sits on the couch. "That deadbeat boyfriend of yours finally drop ya?"

"No, ma." You ground your teeth. Hating the way she talked about Justin. "I took the bus."

She rolls her eyes from the TV screen to you, sizing up your outfit. "Is that what you wore to school?" You stay silent and stare at the ground. "I've told you before...no nice boy is gonna want to date you when you dress like that-"

"Dressed like what, ma?" You deadpan.

"Some kind of hussie," she bites. "It's why you only attract junkies like your boy toy. You could date a nice football player if you wanted. They're going places. And they might as well take you with 'em."

You frown deeply as you turn and head out the front door without another word. It's a long walk to Justin's house but you don't really care right now. You hug your arms to your chest and feel the tears dripping from your eyelashes. It bugged you how easily she tore apart your confidence. You felt like you should have thicker skin after living with it for this long.

The sun was setting when you made it to Justin's house. You stopped down the street and wait until you see Clay's car leave the driveway. Quickly, you walked to the carriage house where the two boys stay now. You tapped on the door quietly before stepping back and waiting.

You were beginning to think he didn't hear you as the seconds ticked by so you raise your hand to tap again. Then, the door swings open and startled you. "Y/n? You're here early," he observes, pulling you in from the biting winter air. "You're freezing! Did you walk here?"

Nodding, you let him lead you to the bed. You kick off your shoes while he disappears into the closet for something. He re-emerges with his favorite sweatshirt and gives it to you. You shed your frozen through coat and put on the warm sweatshirt.

"How many times have I told you not to walk here in the winter?" He asks exasperatedly. You shrug silently, lacking any energy to quip back. He begins noticing your behavior. "What happened?"

You look at him with watery eyes, your lip quivering while you fight the emotions. "Oh, baby..." he whispers and pulls you into him. That's all it takes for you to release all your pain. Your shoulders shake and your face contorts as your body is wracked with silent cries.

He lays you down, cuddling you from behind. Justin knows the only thing that makes you like this. It's not the first time it's happened. You showing up at his door a wreck and no idea how to stop it.

You begin to calm down as the tears make your eyelids heavy. Justin gently runs his fingers through your hair, comforting you with soft kisses behind your ear. "Everything's gonna be okay, y/n. Only a few more months and we can go wherever we want. All we need is each other. Okay? I'll always be here for you," he lulls you into a calm state of sleep with his words.

Thirty minutes later when you're sound asleep, lights flash across the windows and Justin hears a car pull into the driveway. Normally, you'd both panic and you'd hide or quickly go out the window. But, you were so exhausted that he couldn't possibly be so cruel to wake you.

Instead, he buries his nose in your hair as the doorknob turns and it pushes open. Clay enters, not noticing you yet. "So turns out," he begins while shedding his coat, "they scheduled me tomorrow and not tod-" he stops in the middle of laying his coat on a chair.

Justin simply looks at him calmly. "Keep it down, would you?" He whispers only slightly sarcastically.

"What's going on here?" Clay questions in whispers.

"What's it look like?" Fully sarcastic. He loves Clay, but he will not hesitate to kick his ass if he wakes you up.

His eyebrows raise and he contemplates the scene. "Uhhh..." he walks over and sits down on his bed. "It looks like you're spooning y/n while she sleeps." Justin squints at him. "Wait, is this a thing?" A tiny tinge of excitement in his voice.

"Yeah," Justin smiles to himself. He's tired of sneaking around and he honestly doesn't even remember why he still wanted to at this moment. "Yeah, it is. Has been for a while," he admits.

Clay breaks out into the most ecstatic smile he's ever seen. "Really? Oh man!" He fights to keep his voice down when he laughs. "That's so great. You two are so good together. I was just waiting for you guys to realize it!"

"You what?" Justin asks quizzically. This was not the reaction he was expecting.

He rolls his eyes. "I've been dropping hints to y/n for months about you two should go out," he rambles. Justin looks down at your sleeping face. "I mean, you two are the most stubborn and strong people I know. No one else would ever keep up with you two."

"Huh," Justin chuckles before looking back to Clay. You must've been keeping those hints a secret. "You're right. Sometimes I can't even keep up with her. But, I sure love trying..."

A small smile comes to your lips. "Me too," you mumble. He rolls his head back and over to you.

"And...you've been awake the whole time," he surmises with a laugh.

You shrug, opening your eyes fully and look from him to Clay. "It's not exactly like either of you are quiet when you whisper." You smirk jokingly.

Justin glares daggers at Clay, who holds his hands up in innocence. "Hold up, it's not my fault," he pleads as Justin springs up and over to Clay. "I'm sorry! Ah! Okay, I'm sorry," he apologizes through laughs as the two begin to wrestle.

You just giggle as you watch them act like brothers. These two really felt like home. Without warning, you hop into their play fight and you all laugh hysterically.

Justin Taglist: @elfie6405​​ @fandomrulesall​ @crazyfangirrll​

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

the reader passes out as soon as boyfriend!harry comes home from tour because she has been studying day and night to finish all her assignments before harry returns

EXHAUSTEDLY IN LOVE

It had been months since Harry had come home. Months spent sleeping on his side of the bed, burying her face in one of his pillows to catch his scent. Nights spent wearing his shirts, waiting for his calls, and settling with the recording of his voice during the voicemail message, in moments when she especially had missed him.

The point was, it had been ages since she’d seen her boyfriend, and Y/N is determined not to let coursework take away more time spent with him.

So, she scrambled to get it all done, in order to have more time for Harry’s kisses, cuddles, and love. She hadn’t felt him in so long, so without hesitation she’d buried herself under assignments, final projects, and studying for major examinations that would take place the following weeks. She started a few days before Harry was to get off the plane, starting with basic reviewing and taking creative breaks by writing and proofreading final essays and projects.

Somewhere along the way, she’d traded meals (the ones Harry had made with his own hands and left frozen for her in the fridge, because she can’t cook for shit and he’s too fond of her to let her become sick by eating burnt toast) for processed food, muffins and coffee. She stayed in their living room, where she had spread all of the work so it lid in unorganized heaps and papers scattered on the ground she could somehow navigate through. One half haphazardly crumpled and tossed ball of foil paper she’d eaten a muffin from had quickly turned to a couple, a dozen, and then bred to the point where it had escalated north to a much greater number. Wrappers littered the floor, despite her prior hate for disgusting messes rather than comfortable messes, she didn’t care. Coffee cups lay strewn aside, muffins half eaten, eyes bleary and nose sniffling a little from congestion.

The messiness crept up on her. Parts of her life began falling off, forming an eclectic debris that dribbled gradually into every corner. Empty sushi containers, Diet Coke cans, sweaters, sweatshirts (Harry’s), socks, her running shoes...when was the last time she’d washed her hair?

However, she really wanted to see Harry properly and get those assignments finished, so she writes that essay.

There is the thesis, which she painstakingly rewrites in every paragraph or else the teacher will say something like ‘???’. There is her restating the first bit of the thesis statement again, maybe with a different word or two. There’s that one character she does remember vaguely, and a purposefully verbose depiction of them so she can take up as much space as possible.

Transitional sentences she shambled together out of the remains of her hopes and dreams.

A rambling, off-topic sentence which probably should have been deleted but it's four in the morning and she honestly doesn’t care and I need those full ten pages. A drastic shift in the paper where for five seconds she actually thinks she knows what she’s talking about. There’s her analysis of a quote in which she tries to explain why it supports her thesis like explaining to a small child why the wind blows. It just does, okay, but I'm only going to be able to express this in really confused and circular speech. Here's her mentioning that character again, but this time she’s talking also about a second character. She secretly hopes she never has to take a test on this stuff. Concluding line. Transitional sentence, but with a vague sense of foreboding and dread attached to it. Her sore hands are starting to slow down. She has now grown to resent the two characters she has been talking about, and she sincerely hopes they both die in a fire, because literally nothing interesting happens to them; literally nothing interesting happened in this book whatsoever, but here's the analyzation of a quote dedicated to them.

When she’s sent in the last assignment and reviewed her brain numb, she feels wonder. Such magic. Somewhere in between killed-someone and just-saved-a-baby-dolphin. Euphoric. Such hope that she swears she just felt a rib snap. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah. She falls back on their bed.

Then, there’s fatigue. Tiredness gnaws at her aching bones, her head heavy, and body feeling unusually cold. A little drowsy, too, because she’d grown alarmed at the distracting dry coughs she was having while reviewing macro economics two, and had downed a bunch of foul smelling (expired?) Tylenol, like taking shots.

Her fingers were blistered from writing down all of the information she remembers from anatomy class for the examination, because it’s been scientifically proven that if you physically write the information down, it’s easier to remember. She’s never been one to like organization, and seeing girls with carefully handwritten tumblr study notes makes her furious, because they’re so slow and her mind works so fast, she’s too impatient and unable to catch her train of thought before it flees the scene, and write in perfect times new roman, size twelve, double spaced and in gel pen shades of fuchsia. It comes to bite her in the ass when she witnesses the disastrous scene of flashcards and sushi and bad handwriting and realizes she must clean it up.

All in all, she wasn’t feeling her best, but Harry was here, and it would definitely pass, right?

—

The night came when Y/N drove to Heathrow airport to pick her boyfriend up, excited and eager to have him back, but also suppressing the low throbbing in her head. It was later at night, so rush hour has passed and traffic was laid back, and the crowd in the airport had significantly dwindled.

We’ll have a few moments privately to ourselves before the press come, she thought, content and dreaming of him.

The time comes when the lights start flashing, and she knows that he’s back.

“Harry,” she breathily laughed, biting her lips, and trying to blink back the welling tears in her eyes as she catches sight of his sparkling forest green eyes from behind the transparent barrier between them. He runs off of the plane, and she runs to him at the same time. It’s like a scene in the movie, before her body collided with his, his comforting, striking scent engulfing her and his strong arms wrapping around her, catching her as she jumped up into his arms. He buries his own face into her neck, breathing in her girlish scent. It’s a scene from a Lifetime movie. They both cry.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more,” he whispered the promise, before sealing their lips in their first kiss in months.

There’s a lot to say behind that kiss. In his head, mainly. Questions and worry that had been intensifying every waking moment to the nights prior to this one, when he had called Y/N and she had responded hours and sometimes days later with a text saying she was fine. It had been so long since they’d had a proper conversation, and it would be a lie if Harry hadn’t thought the distance was affecting them. Causing her to care less. Now, he was confused. In love, definitely, but confused at how the woman who had seemingly avoided him for days was now leaping in his arms, holding on tightly to him like a koala bear and clinging for life.

The screams behind them started growing, cameras clicking, and fans growing desperate. After pushing one last kiss against her lips, Harry smiled at her adoringly, dimples poking out as her eyes fluttered open.

“Come on, it’s time to go, Princess.”

She nodded, and they kept their heads down, security surrounding them methodically as they moved through the gathering crowd. Through the middle of it, however, Y/N begins to feel a bit dazed. No, not now, she thinks to herself, nervously. The flashes and clicks and screams do nothing for her terribly painful headache, and worsen the heavy feeling in her chest. Her legs feel detached from the rest of her body, moving robotically and at a quick pace as they move hand in hand, Harry pulling her closer to his chest in order to protect her from the crowd. Her hands are becoming sweaty, and she wonders if he can feel it.

She’s taking deep breaths, training her expressionless face to the ground, and trying to focus on the steadiness of Harry’s arm around her waist, how it was warm and unwavering. However, this lessens her attention and causes her to forget that one step as Harry and her step into the elevator, hidden by the security who let them pass and keep everyone else out. They’re the only two going inside, when her foot slips into the little crack in the machine, and she lurches forward. Harry’s arms tense around her, pulling her inside the elevator before it shuts on her foot.

“Jesus, you alright, baby?”

She tries to make a confirming noise, but it comes out as more of a groan, and she’s so hungry, her stomach is painfully empty. This strikes his alarm, and so he places his large hands on her shoulders, finger tilting her chin up as he gazes down at her with tentative, cautious green eyes, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Mhm,” she mumbles, not quite wanting to let go of his chest just yet. It was warm and smelled of him, and she was afraid she’d lose her balance if she let go. Instead, she slung her arms around his hips and closed her eyes, face against his chest. Before murmuring: “I just missed you so much, H.”

He relaxes some at this, visibly becoming less tense. His expression softened as he looked over at his girl.

“Sleepy?” He asked softly, a finger stroking her cheek while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist, securing her to him. She hummed, and he kissed her hair.

“You smell nice,” she confessed. “Like.. like... Harry candles.”

“Come on, love,” he laughed lightly, guiding her out of the lift and brushing it off as she stumbled some, again, blaming it on her exhaustion. “Let’s get you home, in bed. Y’very sleepy.”

“No,” she protested, eyes narrowing while she pointed at his chest determinedly as she remembered all the work she had done, waiting for this moment. “I’ve made dinner, and you’re going to eat that, and then I’m going to put on lingerie and look irresistible and you’re going to seduce me into getting into bed with you.”

“I’m going to seduce you, hm?” Harry teased, a signature smirk on his face. He nuzzled his face into her neck and peppered kisses there, after they’d gotten into the car and he had sat in the drivers seat next to the passengers seat, where she sat. “You don’t need lingerie. You’re already irresistible.”

With a weak smile and a killer migraine, she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and drive, Styles.”

—

The aching in her body would go, and then come back full force as Harry drives, one hand easy on the steering wheel, other grasping hers and rubbing circles into her much smaller palms as he talked of the places he’d traveled and how much he’d missed her, home.

She’d smile and nod, but what was this? She’d spent all of her energy finishing her assignments to spend time with him, but now she spent the time she had feeling sick.

They’d entered into their flat, and Harry had heaved a long sigh, comforted in the private confines of his home. Y/N had instructed him to freshen up, swatted away his lingering hands from her hips, and gotten dinner ready. She’d made his favorite.

She was just setting the wine on the candlelit table, when the all consuming drowsiness for her again, but she breathed in and out and gulped down some cool water, waiting for it to pass and then fixing the table, again.

He’d snuck up behind her, planting his hands on her hips and sponging kisses down her delicate neck when she clenched a bit in surprise, before relaxing slightly, still a bit stiff.

“Wow,” he’d muttered, green eyes sparkling as they ran over what she’d done. She’d pushed him down into a chair. “This is amazing, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she promised, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ve waited so long. Now, come on! There’s a cake you have to cut.”

There’s an apparent slow burn that situated itself in her ribcage, her stomach twisting in unease as she continued to smile and walk towards the counter, uncovering a big cake she had made for him in his favorite flavour and colours. She grabbed a lighter and quickly lit all the candles, the heat causing her chest to flush uncomfortably, arms prickling due to the unwanted warmth. Her head spun.

Carefully, she had began walking toward Harry with the cake, a faint smile still on her face as he stared at her lovingly. She had placed the cake in front of him.

“Welcome back home, baby,” she’d murmured, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she held him, nuzzling her face into his neck, chest against his back. He lifted his hand to rest where hers did, before exhaling and blowing out the little fires on the candles, smoke billowing past them, as a result.

“I love you.”

She heard the phrase, but it sounded more distorted. The smoke and heat surrounding her becoming too much, migraine worsening, nausea uprising. She became more aware of her fatigue and hunger and dizziness. What was happening?

Harry’s own forehead had creased in concern as he eyed her after she hadn’t responded like she usually did. There was a strange, faraway look in her eyes, as he watched as her face fell with a frown downturning his own cherry lips. Eyes darkening in worry.

“Love?”

The last thing she felt was her own body turning against her, feeling weightless as her eyes closed shut. She collapsed, his arms quickly wrapping around her to break her fall.

—

Y/N felt as if she were nestled in a cloud, entrenched in softness and white and the warmth that could only be from the body heat of someone very close and very familiar. She yawned, stretching beneath the heavenly comforter. How long has it been since I’ve last slept here? Pushing the thought away, she had smiled sleepily. Harry must have changed the sheets into new, fresh ones. He was sweet.

Her eyes snapped wide open.

Harry.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was as gentle as the breeze, but his darkened eyes held emotions she couldn’t figure out, ones that caused her stomach to roll in unease.

“Drink,” he motioned to the glass filled with what looked like foggy water which he had ripped over slightly, nudging her lips. Inwardly grimacing, she parted her lips and he silently tipped the glass further into her mouth. Bleh. It was sugar water. “It’s to get your blood sugar up.”

“I spoke to the doctor,” he said. His voice hard as steel, but he restrained from sounding too firm or saying anything he didn’t mean. She already knew what he’d say.

“Harry,” Y/N whined, she was still tired. How about a rain check? She mused. On this conversation. I want to sleep some more.

“Y/N.”

His voice had a warning edge to it.

“You haven’t been eating,” he stared at her blankly as he stated the facts, but the worry in his eyes was now evident. She felt the urge to look away, but couldn’t. “—sleeping, and the doctor’s said you’ve been looking stressed. What’s going on? Tell me the truth.”

“I wanted to spend time with you..”

“So you deprived yourself of food and sleep?” He asked, disbelief colouring the sentence.

“I had a lot of coursework,” she confessed, looking down to where she fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit. It all seemed so silly, now. “It’s becoming exam season, and I had a lot of projects and major assignments and reviewing to do.”

“You’re gone for ten months,” she pressed, a little pained. “I didn’t.. I didn’t want to spend the time I have with you doing coursework and stressing over prepositions and definitions, when we could be going places or doing nothing together. It’s been so long, Harry. I missed you.”

His eyes softened at the explanation, but hers were still downturned. She felt vulnerable. Had he missed her as much as she’d missed him?

“I guess, I kind of lost track of time and forgot to eat and stuff during all of the hustling to get things finished. I ate,” she offered with a weak smile, knowing it was futile. “I ate muffins and drank coffee.”

Harry shook his head at that.

“You silly girl,” he laughed wetly, tears springing to his own eyes as he pulled her near him, sponging soft kisses to her hairline and looking down at her sweetly. “I know the feeling. I hate being far from you, too, baby, but. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t be getting sick.”

She snuggled further into his warm chest, content with his familiar scent— of sandalwood and boy and home. His arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as physically possible, feeling every curve and dip he’d missed being against for so long.

“I was so worried,” he whispered. She felt her own heart ache at how he sounded a bit broken. “It was so sudden. One second you were smiling, and the next you’d fainted. I thought you were.. I thought something was wrong. I need you.”

“I’m sorry, H,” she apologized, sighing delicately as her boyfriend ran his fingers under the shirt (his) she was wearing, skin contacting with her warm back and tracing around until his palm lay flat against her bare stomach as he spooned her. “Hey.. did you change my clothes? “

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively: “did you see my new lingerie?”

He rolled his eyes in amusement, before dramatically widening them for exaggerated emphasis. “Loving you,” he poked her nose. “Is exhausting. I’ve lost years off of m’life.”

“Yes, but you get to see me naked. So, you see, it’s all worth it in the end.”

It was. These months apart. The forces that tried to break them apart. Every ache, every second apart was worth it. She was worth it, and so was he.

He laughed, lips stretching into a wide smile as he pulled her closer to him while continuing to smother her squirming self with smacking kisses.

MASTERLIST

[flippyspoon]

Here’s some tooth rotting Christmas fluff for yas.

Santa Baby

Steve was agitated.

A job as a mall Santa outside town (nothing having replaced Starcourt as of yet) had seemed pretty cushy. It paid a lot better than Family Video, but he could take the spot part-time and work around his shifts. It meant less free time which meant less time with Billy, which neither of them was particularly happy about. Their relationship was still a bit new and exciting, and somewhat terrifying. But if the two of them were uncertain about many things in life they were both very certain now that they hated to be apart.

One more week, Steve thought, rubbing his eyes.

He thought about how good the pay was. He’d be able to get a place with Billy soon at this rate, with the security of being able to do it himself and not worry about his parents’ reaction. That was something.

The shift had been long and the children brattier than usual as they listed all the things they wanted for Christmas or asked weird questions he didn’t know how to answer (like whether or not reindeer were immortal if he’d always been using the same ones- he’d said yes) or abruptly bursting into tears. He found himself grateful nobody had vomited on him that day.

But the mall was closing in just ten minutes and there were only a few children left to appease.

Steve summed up his strength and put on a big grin, waving sunnily at the next five-year-old and ho-ho-hoing with as much jollity as was possible.

Finally, it was after nine o’clock and the mall was closed. Somehow kicking he last few kids out and splitting up tips and cleaning up litter left behind on the Santa stage left behind by careless shoppers took eons.

Finally, Steve dragged himself to the employee’s locker room and leaned heavily on a wall, sighing. His beard itched on his chin and his head was hot from wearing the hat all day in a stuffy mall, his forehead sweaty. He could take them off now, but he felt nearly too tired to move even though once he changed he could go meet Billy outside.

Billy…

Billy had been back for just a few months, miraculously alive and now a much different person than the one who had beat him to a pulp. He was by turns quiet and sweet and fucked up and then sometimes edgy and wickedly funny and prone to outbursts and also fucked up.

Steve loved him something awful. He’d been impatient all day to see Billy and smiled now thinking about he was just a couple minutes away if Steve would just move-

“Ho ho ho, what do we have here?” Billy spoke in a sing song, his voice low and husky as he suddenly appeared around the corner of the lockers. He bit his lip, looking Steve up and down with a distinctive twinkle in his eye. He looked a lot more like the old sort of Billy but it was all tinged with a kind of sweetness and his smile was genuine. Steve raised his eyebrows and turned his head, reflexively leaning closer.

“Heeeey, trouble maker. How’d you get in here?” Steve said. He tugged on the denim jacket that Billy was wearing over a sweatshirt and pulled him closer. There were still snowflakes dusting his golden curls and his cheeks were rosy. 

“You busted into a secret Soviet base under Starcourt and you’re surprised I made it through an unlocked Employees Only door?” Billy cackled and grabbed the fake fur lapels of Steve’s Santa costume. 

“Yeah, but I’m much stealthier than you,” Steve said. Billy yanked Steve’s Santa beard down off his chin and Steve leaned in, only letting his lips faintly brush Billy’s before pulling back again. “I’m a Ninja.”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Billy muttered. He captured Steve’s lips in a proper kiss and Steve hummed into it. Billy tasted like hot chocolate and peppermint, like Christmas. “Snuck right into my goddamn…”

Heart, Steve thought. That was what Billy was going to say, but he was pulling away and looked bashful if still happy, his tongue between his teeth.

“You’re in such a good mood,” Steve said wonderingly. It wasn’t a rare occurrence exactly. But he’d seldom if ever seen Billy quite this giddy, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. It made his heart dance in his chest.

“Had a good day,” Billy said, shrugging. “El and Max dragged me around Christmas shopping. That got to be a bit much but I fed em’ burgers and they slowed down a little. And then I knocked into Buckley at Melvald’s and we ended up smokin’ a J at the quarry and we got hot cocoa at the donut shop. It wasn’t bad. Buckley’s a cool chick.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, grinning. “She definitely is.”

He had tried to subtly foster a friendship between Billy and Robin, but it was always better when people came to those things on their own.

“Missed you though,” Billy murmured.

“I missed you too,” Steve whispered in his ear. “It’s almost done. My last shift is Christmas Eve. Then I’m all yours.”

Forever, he thought.

“Always wanted a Harrington for Christmas,” Billy said, and moved to kiss Steve’s neck.

“You got one,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Billy’s shoulders. He had a lump in his throat suddenly and he shut his eyes, overwhelmed with love for Billy. “All yours. Not just Christmas. All the time. I’m all yours, as long as you want me. I promise.” He was babbling and he forced himself to shut up, a rush of anxiety making him shiver. What if that was too much? What if it scared Billy?

“Jesus, I hope so,” Billy said in Steve’s ear. “‘Cause I’m not planning on letting you go, Santa baby.”

The relief was so instantaneous and gratifying that a giggle bubbled up inside Steve and he buried his nose in Billy’s neck, hiding the couple tears sliding down his cheek.

“I like that,” he mumbled. “Santa baby…” 

Billy sang softly and swayed with Steve, the two of them slow dancing in the locker room. Steve held him tight and let his eyes slip shut, let himself sway along. “Please leave a sable under the tree...for me…”

We should go, Steve thought. The plan was to go back to Steve’s house and eat pizza and make fun of the schmaltzy Christmas specials rerunning from last year and then to have slow sweaty sex for as long as they could before collapsing into an exhausted heap.

Except that Steve still couldn’t will himself to leave, so comfy now in Billy’s arms swaying in the empty locker room.

“Santa baby...so hurry down the chimney tonight…” 

[sparkie96]

Chreon for 1. Do not give me that look and 5. Kidnapping them was the only way I was going to get them here.

It had started out as a moderately peaceful day off for Leon. He woke up, went to the bathroom, ate a light breakfast, took a morning jog, and then came back to his apartment to shower. He was about to maybe take a short nap or something while watching television on the couch and sit with Munchie when someone had put a blanket over his head. They somehow managed to wrestle and trap him in it before scooping him up and taking him to who the hell knew where. There were too many voices whispering all around him, so he couldn’t exactly tell who had him. He did know that they had a big or tall guy with them and a couple of females before he was thrown into a truck. He also didn’t know what the fuck was so god damn funny, because he heard a lot of laughter and giggling. 

“What…the everloving FUCK?!” Leon exclaimed, managing to sit upright and find an opening in the blanket, looking around the truck. He was surrounded by bags and other shit in the fucking trunk part of a very large assault looking vehicle.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” A familiar voice called through the divider. 

“…Claire?!” Leon asked, “What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Why am I in the trunk? Why the fuck did you kidnap me from my apartment?” 

“We would have invited you out the normal way,” another voice, another female, called back, “But you probably would have just said no. That and you’re a surprise for someone else.” 

Leon furrowed his brows at the voice, not sure exactly who it was that had been talking, “…who the hell was that?” 

“Jill.” Claire and yet another voice replied. Who the hell was that?!

“Who all is in the truck and where the hell are we going?” Leon asked, very confused as to why Jill Valentine was here and what Claire was doing. 

Claire laughed, explaining that it was her, Sherry, Jake, and Jill as well as Jill’s friend Parker Luciani. He was the big guy that grabbed Leon and Jill grabbed and held on to Leon’s legs. They were going up to the mountains to meet with the Burtons at their house in the . Sherry and Claire reassured Leon that they packed a bag for him and Helena was going to look after Munchie for the week. 

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” Leon asked with an incredulous look, “Did you say week? And how the hell did I not notice any of you in my apartment?!” 

“Hunnigan thought you put in for a week of time off instead of just the weekend,” Sherry explained, “So, you had a week off instead of just the weekend.” 

“Also, you’re really oblivious.” Claire chuckled, “You didn’t even notice me hand you your sweatshirt when you were in the closet and you somehow didn’t hear Sherry sneeze under your bed.” 

“I was hiding in your pantry.” Jill chimed in, “…you’re out of Goldfish by the way.” 

While Leon was sitting on the couch, Parker and Jill crept in and grabbed him while Claire and Sherry packed him a week’s worth of stuff for a mini vacation. There was a “Family Like Gathering” happening up at the Burtons and thought he should have been up there with him, but knowing his past track record, he would have tried to bail on them prematurely or at the last minute. 

“Which is why kidnapping you was the only way to get you to come…” She pulled the divider down, looking at a very annoyed looking brunette, “…don’t look at me like that.” 

Leon grumbled before removing his sweatshirt and rolling it up into a ball, “Well…in that case, wake me up when we get there.” He grumbled, lying on his makeshift pillow and rolling up into his blanket before dozing off. 

The occupants of the truck chuckled or breathed a sigh of relief. Claire and Sherry had expected Leon to blow up or get angry, Jill and Parker expected a bit more of a physical fight and Jake had been betting on “All of the Above”. So, when they had gotten little to no protest with mild freaking out, Claire was the one who had been admittedly worried. She knew he was trying to get better, but he was still a bit worse for wear. Jill said his fridge was mostly alcohol and little food, and his big pantry had little to nothing except for snacks. 

His apartment was also still a tad messy as well. The only thing stocked up was stuff for his cat and booze, though Sherry insisted that maybe Leon hadn’t gone to the store yet this week for himself. Or maybe he planned on cleaning up during his day off. Claire wasn’t one-hundred percent convinced, but she felt a bit better thinking like Sherry. 

But still…what if someone had actually ambushed him? Or he had slipped again? They had all been through hell over the years…but Leon was the only one who was not actively seeking help and wouldn’t give up his drinking problem. It was hard to tell what was going on with him, but she and the others hoped that a week around friends and family would help keep him on the right path. 

And hopefully he would be happy to see her brother, who was certainly going to be surprised to see him. 

______________________________________

After dropping Parker off at his own home, they drove a couple of hours until they were in the mountains. They made one rest stop for drinks and a bathroom and gas break. Leon stayed asleep for pretty much the whole ride up, except for when Claire woke him to ask if he wanted a snack or needed to go to the bathroom or something. Surprisingly, he asked for a bag of Goldfish and a cherry coke, but he didn’t touch either of them yet, choosing to roll over and go back to sleep. 

When they arrived, Chris was there to meet them along with Barry, Claire putting up the divider before she and Jill climbed out to greet them. Jake got out and went to the trunk while Sherry climbed out to stretch her legs. Barry went to help Jake, but Claire insisted that Jake and Chris had it, Jill taking Barry by the arm and asking him how he and Kathy were doing. Jill gave Claire a wink as Claire led Chris over to the trunk. 

“It’s been a while.” Claire said with a smile. 

“Claire, we had lunch together not even last week.” Chris chuckled, “And we had our annual sibling fishing trip the weekend before that.” 

“I know, but still!” The red-head protested, “It’s just…nowadays you never know, y’know?” 

Chris raised a brow at that, going over to the trunk and greeting Jake briefly, shaking the younger man’s hand, “Never know, what?” he asked, “You’re acting weird.” 

Claire and Sherry exchanged knowing looks before Claire turned back to her brother. She explained that with their fields of work, one never knows when they’ll see someone for the last time, so it was nice to spend as much time with the people they cared about as possible. Chris wasn’t sure what to say at first, making a comment about how dark that was yet, kind of sweet at the same time. He reassured her that none of them would be going anywhere anytime soon. 

“Well, that’s good that you think that way.” Claire said with a smile, “Cause we also brought you a surprise.”

“…Really?” Chris asked, brow raised once more as he opened the trunk, “And what would that…” the man turned his attention back to the trunk, cheeks dusted a light pink as he saw just who was in the trunk, “…Leon?!” 

The brunette was just waking up, sitting up and letting out a yawn before stretching out his aching limbs. The blanket fell, baring his chest briefly before Leon slipped his hoodie back on over his head. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blue eyes focused on who had said his name, blinking a couple of times before widening in surprise, a blush on his own cheeks. 

Leon looked between the Redfields, “Uh…hi…” He said in a quiet voice, “It’s, uh, been a while.” 

“Yeah…” Chris said with a nod, utterly speechless. 

Claire, Sherry and Jake looked between them, Sherry and Claire wearing matching smiles. They had both known about Leon and Chris’s feelings for one another for a while, but neither had the time or faintest idea on how to court the other. 

Chris had been doing a lot better after the whole incident overseas and then after New York, having actually sought out a therapist through the BSAA and actually thinking about looking into retirement or becoming an instructor for the BSAA Recruitment Camp. He was even thinking about moving into a house near the mountain house. Though he still had a “family” that consisted of Claire, Jill and Carlos, and the Burtons, Chris had never really looked for “The One” and was still smitten by someone he thought he could never have. He hadn’t really confided in anyone about all this until recently when he met up with Claire for their annual sibling fishing trip. 

When Claire had met up with and told Sherry all of this, Sherry revealed that the same thing might have been happening with Leon, saying that the agent also had feelings for Chris but the years of chasing Ada made him think that, like Ada, he could never have Chris due to their lifestyles. 

So, they plotted this for a while and decided that this week would be the perfect time to get them together. There was nothing but friends and family surrounding them and work couldn’t bother the two. 

“Surprise!” Claire and Sherry said, Sherry to Leon and Claire to Chris. 

Leon and Chris were flustered, neither saying anything to the other. Or rather, they were at a loss for words and didn’t know what to say. They hadn’t seen each other since New York. It had been a shame because, despite their spat before they had beaten Arias, they ended up getting along and going out for drinks. They even promised to see each other again some time and then never did…until now. 

Chris was the first one to break the pregnant pause between them, smiling down at the younger man as he held out his arms toward him, “Long time no see, Le. Need help?” 

Leon smiled too, chuckling as he accepted, giving the man a sort of hug as Chris lifted him out of the trunk. Once he was out and upright, Chris gave him a proper hug, the two embracing tightly. 

“So,” Leon started off after they pulled away, “How have things been in the last couple of months?” 

“Pretty good,” Chris admitted, looking down with furrowed brows and noticing that Leon didn’t have shoes, “…Where are your shoes?” 

Leon looked to Sherry and Claire, Jake already starting to take bags up to the house, “I didn’t know I would be leaving the apartment today.” Leon revealed.

Chris laughed at that, “Oh? So you got tricked into coming up and staying up here too?” he asked in amusement, him and Leon grabbing some bags and going up to the house. 

(to be continued in a future project. Consider it a sneak peek >_o) 

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

         Our tale is one of heartbreak and loss. One you know how it begins and how it ends. My friends are faceless ghosts left to be tortured in the Fields of Punishment, forsaken—not for their own sins—but for the neglect of our parents. Our song isn’t the one you want to hear; it’s the one that needs to be told. Losers never write history. They fade to urban legends and night terrors. If the only way for us to be remembered is as monsters, then monsters we shall be. And in the night, you will hear us scream.

             Luke Castellan saved my life. Not the way you might expect—and I did die several times later, but the Sisyphean feat of keeping me dead is for another story.

--dictations from the ramblings of Jack Flash

  Histories of Luke Castellan:

 Uncomfortable Beginnings

(or: Plans Never Go How They Should)

           While watching the cop car pull up to the school, Luke chewed on his lip. He squeezed the hilt of his sword, suddenly unsure he should have brought any weapons. He’d tied his orange Camp Half-Blood sweatshirt around his waist to hide the blade and logo with the hopes that the color wouldn’t attract as much attention if he put it lower on his body. Nothing said subtle like traffic cone orange.

         Sometimes, he wondered if their camp director wanted them to get attacked by monsters.

         “What, kid, getting cold feet?”

         Luke was used to people being shorter than him, but his companion, Phil, was barely at chest height.

Luke looked like he belonged to this school. Phil looked like he should be thrown in jail if he got anywhere near a school. He had an untamed black beard, scraggily black hair, and dark eyes that constantly seemed to seek flaws in every person and institution for some internal mockery.

         Another horrific crunch erupted from between Phil’s lips, like an eighteen wheeler obliterated a Smart Car inside his mouth.

         “Could you chew with your mouth closed?” Luke snapped, unable to handle the foreboding smash of iron again.

         “Can you turn down the sun glare on your hair gel?” Phil asked, removing the metal rod from between his lips like a cigarette. “And maybe your panic? You’re going to attract monsters for a twenty mile radius with how much you’re sweating.”

         If Phil hadn’t been such a skilled keeper, and annoyingly right about the sweat, then Luke would have smacked him. Phil was a satyr—horns, tails, and all—and excellent at sniffing out new demigod blood. Unlike many of his counterparts, Phil had learned to use human technology to his advantage to gain access to unexplained incidents in police reports, newspapers, and magazines.

“The cops aren’t exactly inspiring confidence. You think this has something to do with Fai Lan?” Luke asked. He and Phil were waiting by the senior parking lot, by a side exit that Phil said this girl used to skip class. She was running late in her class-skipping, and Luke was wary that the cop car parked in the kiss-and-ride loop had something to do with it.

“Fēi Lín,” Phil corrected again. “That’s a fast way to get to a girl’s heart—mispronouncing her name. And unlikely. She’s not exactly known for getting caught, nowadays. Ah, you gotta love when a young, aspiring vagabond finds her way to proper subterfuge—there’s our birdie, now.”

On cue, someone exited the side doors. The girl was in the middle of taking off a gym shirt, revealing a too-tight, too-short black tank top that a teacher must have made her cover. Her red, pleather pants and black combat boots made him grin. Black bangs and side wisps bobbed around her face as she ran out, head tilting towards the cop car in the kiss-and-ride. She looked like an Asian version of that vampire slayer, Buffy.

Maybe the cops did have something to do with her.

“Remember not to stare at her face,” Phil said, taking another bite off the iron rod and munching.

         “Not going to be a problem,” Luke said, though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. His face warmed. Luke had been around lots of Aphrodite’s cabin members and intimately knew how attractive Selena Beauregard was. Especially with that knowledge, this girl was smoking.  

         “Just remember: she killed the last satyr that came after her. Do. Not. Stare. At. Her. Face,” Phil emphasized every word.

         She turned to examine the main entrance to the school, so all Luke could discern was a hair bun with… with hair sticks? Or stilettos? They glinted like they were sharp. She was only fifteen feet away now.

         Luke had to keep calm. He’d lead plenty of people through Camp Half-Blood, getting them comfortable with the fact that the Greek gods were real. This wasn’t even the first time he’d handled someone who had a criminal record. Most of his blood siblings had them. This was, however, the first time he would work with someone that could easily kill him, according to Phil’s research.

It was also the first time he’d reached out to someone before Kronos had gotten into their dreams. Luke would prove that he was useful without his master’s direction.

         “Hey,” Luke said in greeting. He stood up tall, shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave her a charming grin, trying to look as harmless as possible. “Fai Lin Davidson?” He decided to use her American last name, since there was no way he’d properly pronounce her other one.

         “Dǒng Fēi Lín,” Phil muttered under his breath.

         “My name is Luke—”

         Luke stumbled over his introduction. Fēi Lín glanced in his direction. Her eyes were icy, calculating, and panicked, but that wasn’t what distracted him. When Phil had warned that she had scars, Luke assumed her scars would be like his, like the single, massive claw mark that stretched from his forehead down one cheek.

The skin on her face and part of her neck was shriveled, ribbed, and discolored. Her lips looked stretched too thin. One eyelid didn’t look like it should be able to close all the way.

Phil elbowed him.  

         Fortunately, Fēi Lín didn’t seem to notice Luke’s pause. Her gaze darted back to the front entrance, where two officers escorted someone out.

         Although her lack of attention saved him some embarrassment, Luke was annoyed that she ignored him. He, in fact, was the most popular boy at Camp Half-Blood. He wasn’t used to being ignored.

         “And I’m his rustic side-kick,” Phil said with a wry smile. “Phil. As a heads up, I’ll gore you if you mention Disney’s Hercules.”

Luke always enjoyed how ridiculous and pompous that movie made the gods look. Though Disney liked to skirt around the whole incest and abuse thing that was rampant in Greek mythology and it made the Titans look like mindless fiends.

         She gaze shot back to them. They narrowed at Phil. “You monsters always pick the worst days to attack,” she said, slipping the sharpened hair sticks from her bun. The bun stayed neatly in place, proving they weren’t there for aesthetics. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, almost too soft to hear.  

         Phil took a rapid step backwards.

         This was not how this was supposed to go. Luke put his hands up, but kept one close to Backbiter. “Not monsters. He’s a satyr. I’m a demigod like you. We’re here to help you—”

         “If you’re here to help me, get that boy away from those cops before they drive away.”

         Luke had to focus to hear her words. Each one seemed to grow softer and softer until she erupted into a fit of coughs.

         “Oh,” Phil said, relaxing. He crunched another chunk out of his iron bar. “You’re sick. I guess a charm speaker can’t charm anyone if she can’t speak.”

         Her eyes narrowed further.

         Before Luke could stop her, her palm struck Phil’s face. The satyr staggered backwards. Iron spit out his mouth like a Pez dispenser. He barely caught himself on one of the cars, fortunately out of the cops’ line of sight.

         “Hot damn, she hits hard!” Phil said, clutching his face. Blood seeped between his fingers.

         Luke clutched the hilt of Backbiter, ready for another strike.

         She didn’t attack. Instead, she pointed her finger back at the cops and their escort. “Help him, or it’s an auto-no for whatever you want to talk about. Or are you worthless and I need to kill those cops on my own?” Her voice sounded like it should earn a month off school for threat of contaminating everything within a thirty-mile radius. Had he heard her on the phone, he would have thought the threat cute. With those sharpened hair stick in her hands and the ferocity of her gaze, Luke took a step backwards.

         Luke didn’t want to get involved with the cops. No one at Camp Half-Blood knew he had slipped away. If his face showed up in the news and Chiron found out, or worse, if they were able to connect him to his mother as a runaway…

         Luke hated her wording even more: worthless. He’d felt worthless for years. And then he’d messed up his first mission for the false glory of something that had been done before. All the time he’d spent at Camp Half-Blood: worthless.

         “You have five seconds to decide, or I’m coming after you as soon as I’m done with those cops,” Fēi Lín said. Her panicked eyes darted back to the officers. They were almost to their car. Their escort didn’t have handcuffs on. He was just some kid, maybe a junior, who looked dazed as he walked between the cops. “Four…”

         Luke did not like being bossed around or being put onto a tight timeline. But, there were so few numbers for the Kronos cause; he needed this girl. Phil said she was incredibly powerful.

         ‘Three—” she said.

         “Cause a distraction,” Luke commanded Phil. They needed more time to plan.

Phil snorted, pinching his bleeding nose. “Cause a distraction he says. I ain’t going back to jail for this, you know that kid?”[1]

         In a motion so quick and precise that Luke couldn’t believe a sick person had done it, the girl grabbed Phil, spun him, and tossed him in the direction of the cops, out into the open. A little more power and she could have gone skeet shooting with a satyr.

         “Help!” she tried to call out, but her voice broke. She tucked the hair sticks back into her bun.

         Luke picked up on the charade immediately. He would find a way to make it up to Phil later, else he knew Phil would threaten to tell Mr. D about him.

         “What makes you think it’s okay to creep on our school property?” Luke shouted, and took a step towards Phil. He really hoped the school’s assigned officer wouldn’t come out to see what the fuss was about. Then they’d have three cops to deal with, and they were dedicated to the act now.

         The officers noticed the commotion.

         They motioned for their escort to stand by the car, then made their way towards Phil, Luke, and Fēi Lín.

         “Hey! Break it up!” one as pale as the clouds shouted. He had a tiny, handmade paper flower attached to his breast pocket, like something a kid might give a dad. If the kid liked their dad and got to see him, Luke thought bitterly.

         “I told this perv to get lost!” Fēi Lín tried to say. The words came out a hiss. She stomped towards Phil, though her steps were wavering. Luke couldn’t tell from her disfigured face, but he thought she was sweating from fever.

         If Luke had to guess, the officers were rightfully confused. Phil did look like a creep, but, this girl looked way more threatening than the downed satyr.

         “What’s going on here?” the other officer, this one with chocolaty skin, asked. This man looked like a heavy-weight boxer with dimples so deeply embedded that they didn’t go away in serious mode. Luke was suddenly unsure if he was okay with Fēi Lín’s comment about killing them.

The cop put his hands up in an everyone calm down maneuver. Meanwhile, his pale companion had settled one hand on his sidearm, at the ready.

         The pale officer was closing in on Phil while the other carefully moved to make Luke and Fēi Lín back up. “What’s going on?” he started to repeat.

         “What the—”

         Behind him, once the pale officer got close, Phil kicked off his boots, revealing two hooves. He proceeded to nail the officer in the head with a solid hoof print.[2]

         The cop flopped over.

         As Luke and Fēi Lín’s officer went to glance back at his partner, Fēi Lín lunged forward. Within seconds, she had him in a headlock, pinching his neck between her forearm and bicep. Her arm trembled with the effort.

         No turning back.

Luke rushed up to snatch away the officer’s handcuffs, radio, and gun. The cop kicked Luke backwards with one solid hit to the diagraph.

Luke stumbled back a step, clutching his chest. This was nothing compared to fighting monsters or demigods, but he’d lost a few valuable seconds to gasping.

The cop fumbled for Fēi Lín’s forearm. When that failed, he thrashed, trying to buck her off. His eyes and forehead vein were bulging when he elbowed backwards.

This guy had at least a hundred pounds on Fēi Lín, but she didn’t flinch when he hit her. His elbow strike nailed her in the ribs. She barely gasped, though Luke didn’t know if that was because of lack of breath from her sickness or because of pain tolerance.

Luke gritted his teeth. Was she really going to kill him?

         The struggles became weaker as he collapsed to his knees, then his hands. His eyes rolled up and Fēi Lín gently set him onto the pavement.

         “Jack!” she called hoarsely. She loosened her hold, though kept the headlock position. Her eyes frantically traced back to the cop car.

         The boy by the car approached them slowly. His steps were uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was really walking here or if he was about to fall off a virtual reality platform.

         “Call for him,” Fēi Lín said, her voice too soft to be heard at his distance, “Tell him we’re real.”

         Phil didn’t hesitate. “Hey! Jak-Jak! We’re real and could use your unexplained help!”

         “This is getting stupid,” Luke said. He shoved the gun into his belt, chucked the radio further into the parking lot, and handcuffed the huge cop. Fēi Lín moved to give him access to the cop’s wrists. She unwound a silk ribbon from around her waist and tied it firmly between the cop’s teeth, tight enough that his cheeks and the back of his head bulged.

         The boy, Jack, leveled with them. He was probably a junior, maybe seventeen or so. His brilliant, red hair was spiky, similar to Luke’s blond, except Jack’s was long enough to dip against his forehead. His eyes were watery and unfocused like a distant, forgotten dream had left him deeply disturbed. He was as tall as Luke, though unhealthily thin and gangly. The black nails and Coheed and Cambria band shirt gave Luke an annoying sense of nostalgia for one of his old friends.  

         Slowly, Jack’s gaze focused on Fēi Lín with no recognition of the cops, Luke, or Phil. “You’re sick,” he said in concern. His voice trembled as much as his body did.

         If Luke had to guess, these two wouldn’t last long as friends once Jack found out that she was a demigod. Mortals tended to run from their brand of crazy. Or, they were dumb and thought it was cool to almost die all the time and be neglected by your godly parent. Luke didn’t know what his deal was and didn’t care at the moment. They needed to get Fēi Lín and get away from here.

         Fēi Lín pointed to the cop Phil had kicked. By now, Phil had sat up and was dusting off his hoof, cursing about ungrateful children under his breath. The pale cop with the flower pin, on the other hand, hadn’t moved. Blood trickled onto the ground from his head. Luke couldn’t tell if it was from his ear or his mouth.

         Luke’s stomach clenched. Had they killed someone?

***

Author’s Note:

I’M FINALLY POSTING THIS!!! This is Part I of the first Tales from Mount Othrys short. I hope you enjoyed! I’m aiming to post every other week :D Ready to watch Luke and his friends skid into madness and betrayal? Join hands and listen to how the crew from Othrys fell apart.

 [1] Oh gods, I accidentally made Grunkle Stan into a Satyr Stan.

[2] Pax wants to know if satyrs have battle “horse” shoes for this occasion.

[ladyluck852]

My Only Wish (Jeonghan x Reader)

A/N: I’ve gone and done it...

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: angst, fluff, lots of pining

Warnings: none! Some cuss words...

Summary: Trying to avoid ruining their friendship after y/n realizes she’s head over heels for her best friend, she does the only thing that makes sense, she avoids.

“Make a wish Jeonghan!” Y/n said excitedly, a shooting star crossing the night sky above them as they laid side by side in the grass. She’d turned to watch him, his dark hair falling into his face as he closed his eyes to make his wish, her heart thudding in her chest at an insane pace. It was the first moment out of many when y/n realized she’d fallen in love with her best friend, an unfamiliar ache settling in her chest, a longing that couldn’t be filled, but more often than not she just felt more sad than in love. She couldn’t just not love Jeonghan, he was her best friend and the person who she trusted most, they were so close and they kept no secrets from each other, but y/n got the sense that in order to keep their friendship intact she was going to have to distance herself.

It had been a few weeks since y/n and Jeonghan had seen each other, four months since the night she realized she was in love with him, coming home from a tour the first thing Jeonghan usually did was visit y/n but this time she was unreachable. He didn’t want to get worked up about it, they were adults and she needed her space, he couldn’t take up all of her time without feeling selfish. Jeonghan was accepting of the fact that maybe y/n was just busy, but it didn’t hurt him any less.

Y/n sighed, rubbing her eyes free of tears when another text message from Jeonghan came in to wish her a goodnight, he was hoping she’d sleep well and that he was thinking of her. Thinking of her?

All y/n thought about was Jeonghan, always in the back of her mind, when she closed her eyes, a presence she couldn’t get rid of even if she tried. Sometimes she wondered if she didn’t want to get rid of him, that’s why it was so hard to fall out of love, because if she truly didn’t want to all she had to do was cut contact completely.

“We’ve been friends forever, she doesn’t just ignore me like this” Jeonghan mumbled, his phone open as he ordered dessert for the night, Joshua sitting next to him as they overlooked the street below them. Whenever Jeonghan wanted to think he sat outside and looked at the stars, it was one of y/n’s habits he’d adopted throughout the years and he wasn’t sure how he ever lived without it.

“Maybe she has a boyfriend” Joshua said, not sure why y/n would ignore Jeonghan either. If anything, she was the one who was always texting and calling and then Jeonghan would be in a daze until he went to bed. They had a wholesome friendship, one Joshua wasn’t sure would end over someone getting a significant other, so that was confusing.

Jeonghan laughed so loud it echoed through the buildings surrounding them, officially done buying dessert and his phone left somewhere on the floor next to him, “y/n with a boyfriend? She doesn’t like guys”

“She likes you”

“That’s different”

Y/n felt bad, anxiety eating away at her and some sort of guilt that came with not going to see Jeonghan, she was about to start crying in the kitchen over her tea when someone knocked on her door. Excitement was the first thing on her mind, so excited because who else would be knocking on her door at 10pm other than Jeonghan?

“O-oh I didn’t...order anything” y/n said quietly, the delivery boy on the porch holding a bag as he squinted at a receipt.

“Yoon Jeonghan?” He asked, handing her the bag anyways, y/n’s heart skipping a beat as she closed the door and took the bag to her table. Two mini fruit tarts were sitting inside of a box, just a small gesture but one that made y/n yell out loud as she went to the bedroom to grab a jacket.

Jeonghan wasn’t surprised to see y/n at his doorstep, he knew it was kind of a low blow to lure her with desserts but he was her best friend and these type of things were allowed sometimes. They sat on the roof, watching the stars as Jeonghan told her about his time on tour, y/n’s eyes closed just trying to stay in the moment without thinking too hard. Having a crush was so terrible, it was hard, just sitting next to him felt like her chest would explode.

“We visited this cafe that I think you’d really like, it’s not too far so maybe on a day off we can go together, they have these coffee drinks and they serve them in really cool cups...” Jeonghan mumbled, trailing off when he felt y/n lace her fingers with his own, “We can plan for it, m-maybe go next week”

“Okay” y/n mumbled, opening her eyes to stare at the sky as Jeonghan relaxed on the bench to do the same, his fingers tight around hers with no intentions of letting go. Jeonghan kept his eyes fixed on the stars, a single shooting star that crossed his vision before it disappeared left him wondering if y/n saw it too.

“Make a wish y/n”

He watched her as she made her wish, her tongue licking her bottom lip as her eyes closed in thought, he wondered what she was wishing for. Y/n wasn’t going to ask for more than what she thought she could get, so her only wish was that she’d always have that moment to come back to and that Jeonghan always knew how much she cared for him.

*

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts? My calls? Y/n I don’t want to sound weird and obsessive but we aren’t like this, did I do something?” Jeonghan asked, finally getting a hold of y/n in the middle of the night when they were both wide awake. It had been a while since y/n had started to just avoid Jeonghan, and he noticed almost as soon as it happened, he tried to give her space but it had been over a month of one word text messages or just no response at all.

Y/n wished they could go back to the days where she didn’t feel crazy around him, where they could sit side by side on the couch and watch YouTube and she wouldn’t be so overwhelmed by her feelings, just the thought of Jeonghan made her upset and it wasn’t even his fault. How could she ever tell him how she felt without ruining their friendship, there was no way in hell she’d risk it, so she’d put some distance between them until the crush faded and that would be it.

But it was so much more than just a crush at this point.

“You didn’t do anything” y/n whispered, it was dark and quiet in the house and she couldn’t talk any louder or else she’d probably yell out what she was thinking and feeling.

“Then why are you avoiding me? You’re my best friend, I miss you so much, what’s wrong y/n? Talk to me” Jeonghan pleaded, wishing y/n would turn down the volume on her tv because her favorite anime was on high all of a sudden. He rolled his eyes, as her best friend he knew avoidance was what she did best when she encountered a problem she couldn’t fix. So what was it about him that she didn’t like or couldn’t fix? They’d been friends for years, what could it possibly be?

“I love you” y/n finally said, her voice small and tired, tired of fighting her feelings for so long.

“I love you too,” he sighed, relieved she didn’t hate him, his heart fluttering in his chest, “can I see you tomorrow?” He expected an answer, not realizing y/n had hung up a long time ago, feeling a bit down but knowing tomorrow was a new day and he would be able to see y/n then.

It was raining all day, winter in full swing and making everything a bit more sad. In an attempt to cheer up, y/n threw on a bright red sweatshirt and went to start her day. Her umbrella was her best friend accompanying her as she got some Christmas shopping done and was thoroughly preoccupied. She wouldn’t allow her mind to wander, Jeonghan pushed as far back as possible so she could focus on finding a proper cafe to get out of the rain in.

“Y/n?!”

Y/n was certain she was now going crazy due to being in love, it was raining and there was no way in hell she was hearing Jeonghan’s voice, it just wasn’t possible. She found a nice cafe, was about to step inside when someone grabbed her hand, normally she’d be ready to hit someone with her umbrella but the hands were familiar and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Jeonghan? What are you... how?” Y/n asked, turning to see her best friend getting drenched by rain, freshly bleached hair sticking to his face as she tried to hold the umbrella over his head.

“I saw your sweater” Jeonghan said softly, his words meant for only her and luckily they reached her.

“M-my sweater? But how did you know it was me? You’re getting wet and-“

She attempted to hold the umbrella over his head but he caught her hand, shaking his head at her, “the rain feels good, my head hurts,” Jeonghan laughed, “You know that I’d know you anywhere right?”

“You’re stalking me” y/n pouted, teasing him against her own will, it was impossible to stay serious with him.

“I miss you, what the hell have you been doing?”

“I’ve been avoiding you!” Y/n said truthfully, there was no point in lying anymore, if things got too hard she’d just tell him she couldn’t be around him anymore.

“No shit, I’ve noticed, you’ve really hurt my feelings” he mumbled, finally stepping under her umbrella and crouching down so they both fit. In their own bubble, the warmth from their breaths and bodies made everything feel nonexistent. Nothing else mattered but the two of them, Jeonghan stared at y/n who looked as pretty as always, y/n stared at Jeonghan who was soaking wet but still looked happy.

“You’ve really hurt mine” y/n sighed, biting her lip as Jeonghan mimicked her actions.

“Whatever I did, I’m so sorry, let me know what I did so I can make it better. I can’t live like this, I love you y/n and it sucks not being able to see you or talk to you” Jeonghan hissed, wrapping his hand around her free wrist gently, pulling her closer.

“I love you Jeonghan and it sucks. I’m... I just don’t want you to hate me” she whispered, her eyes watering as Jeonghan felt his mouth fall open slightly. He was dumbfounded in every way, how could he ever hate y/n when all he thought about most of the time was how much he adored and loved her? Sometimes he contemplated telling her, and if there was ever a good time it would be now.

“Why would I ever hate you? There’s nothing you can say that would make me change how I feel about you, you should know this. Tell me what you’re feeling” Jeonghan mumbled, his hand trailing up y/n’s arm so he could pull her against his chest. He was wetting her sweater and her neatly styled hair, he was practically shivering as y/n listened to his rapid heart beat.

“Jeonghan how many times do I have to tell you I love you before I sound like an idiot? You said you wouldn’t hate me, even if I told you that I was in love with you?”

His eyes widened, his heart felt like it was literally going to come bursting out of his chest like something out of a horror movie, “oh no, this is too cliche and romantic for me y/n, I think I’m going to have to kiss you in the rain or something” Jeonghan laughed, y/n pulling away from him at lightspeed with red cheeks.

“Stop playing around, you’re such a boy!” She hissed, not knowing what she expected out of him. Deflecting her sentiment with humor was something very out of character for him, usually it was y/n being the weirdo.

“What am I supposed to say? Gosh y/n you love me? Like I didn’t already know this, I love you too” Jeonghan mumbled, rolling his eyes, watching y/n pout as her eyes got red.

“Not like that though, I love you l-“

Jeonghan cut her off, kissing her gently as the umbrella got squished between the both of them, not doing much to keep the rain off, “you love me like I love you, like the only thing I was wishing for whenever I saw a shooting star was that you felt the same way”

“Why do you have to be so sentimental? You’re making me cry...” y/n whispered, rubbing the wetness from her eyes as Jeonghan nudged her cheek. 

“Does this mean you're going to stop avoiding me and we can go back to taking naps together?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, a good feeling spreading throughout her body despite how cold it was out, gasping when she realized something crazy, “Oh my gosh Jeonghan, I hope the rain stops soon because there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight! We can make all the wishes” 

“Sorry my night is going to be booked, I’m going to be spending time at my girlfriends house, I’ll probably be asleep by then,” Jeonghan shrugged, taking the umbrella from y/n and a few of her shopping bags, “let’s go” 

“I don’t think your girlfriend wants visitors” she grumbled, wrapping her hand around jeonghan’s and cuddling closer to him to get underneath the umbrella. 

“My girlfriend has no choice, I’m carrying my Christmas gift, and if she doesn’t let me come over then I’m going to look through this bag because I’m 95% sure she got me that watch we saw a while back” 

“How...” 

“Because,” Jeonghan said, leaning down to kiss y/n’s cheek, “I love you and you love me and we’re on the same wavelength. So I know you, this is going to be the best Christmas yet”

[find-the-eyes]

I’ll Try Anything Once: Chapter 29

Written by: Sol Edited by: Allegra

Later that week, the boys were opening for a local band at a real venue for the first time. They finally had a proper stage and a backstage area that wasn’t a run-down kitchen or an empty expanse of warehouse floor. Tonight, the boys had a crowd. Sure, a crowd that wasn’t there for them, but a crowd nonetheless. Alex paced around the dressing room as Paul munched on a bag of crisps, watching Bob play a rhythm game on his Gameboy. Nick sat across the room, staring blankly ahead, half-watching as Alex passed by over and over. Alex wondered what could possibly be going on in Nick’s head that was more entertaining than the world around him.

Alex nudged Nick’s shoulder. “You should eat something before we go onstage,” he said, handed him some apple slices. Nick ate them cautiously; every time Alex passed by, he noticed that Nick had only taken a few small bites. “And maybe get off the floor?” Alex asked on his next loop around the room. Nick shook his head in response.

The crowd wasn’t too happy to see that some unknown art school band was performing that night, but Alex was confident that they could win them over and maybe even perform better than the main act. Once again, as soon as the Franz boys stepped onstage, Nick came to life. He looked over at Alex and grinned, standing in front of his keyboard, his guitar in hand.

Three songs in, the crowd was warming up quite a bit. It actually seemed like they were…interested. As he was furiously strumming away on one of the new songs they had practiced that week, Nick saw an opportunity to give the audience even more energy. As his part in the song ended, he set his guitar in its stand, ran to the edge of the stage, and dove into the crowd.

Nick severely misjudged the distance between the stage and the barricade. His body tensed as he slammed into the metal bar on top of the barrier, leaving a dizzy ringing in his head and a sharp pain in his chest. He slid down to the ground and stayed there for a moment, trying to regain a sense of where he was and how he could get back onstage. He looked back up at the stage, the lights blurring his vision. Alex was still performing like nothing had even happened. Bob gave him a look of slight concern, which Nick returned with a small nod. He climbed back onstage, the pain in his chest worsening when he pressed against the side of the stage to try to pull himself up. His vision became even more dazed as tears began to mix with the bright lights. He reached for a water bottle and took a sip, and then picked up his guitar and continued playing. Luckily, there were only a few songs left until he could rest and let his body reset.

When Alex finally looked over at Nick, he could immediately tell that something was wrong. Nick had lost all of his usual onstage energy, and was focused on not moving at all. He looked scared again, ready to start sobbing at any moment. Paul noticed as well and tried to rush the rest of the band through the last song so Nick could get off the stage as soon as possible. As soon as the show ended, Nick packed up and stood next to Alex as he talked to some people backstage, waiting to finally go home. Alex occasionally caught a glance at the paleness of Nick’s face and the terrified expression in his eyes. When Alex noticed Nick leaning into the corner, barely holding himself upright, he hastily said his goodbyes and pulled on Nick’s arm. “Alright. Let’s go home.”

They slipped out through the back exit of the venue, lugging two guitars and a keyboard with them. Alex packed the instruments into the back of his car. “Great show, huh? They really seemed to love us...”

“Yeah,” Nick said groggily.

“You sure took a tumble tonight, huh?” he asked Nick as he started driving back towards their flat.

“Yeah,” Nick said again in a soft voice, the pain in his chest becoming more prevalent by the minute.

“You’re feeling alright, though? You weren’t acting like yourself...”

“I’m fine.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck. The pain increased with every movement.

“It looked like it hurt...”

Nick nodded and looked out the rain-splattered window at the city lights passing by. “It did.”

“Do you want to get it checked out? You don’t look too good.”

Nick shook his head and took as deep of a breath as he could manage. He knew something was very wrong. But Alex couldn’t know. Nick wouldn’t allow it.

Upon entering the flat, Nick immediately went to get ready for bed, hoping he could sleep off his injury. Steckrübe followed him into the bathroom.

“Ah, Steck…” Nick scooped him up but had to put him down due to the pain. He locked the bathroom door and stared at himself in the mirror. “Not good…” He spotted a bruise forming around the scar on the left side of his chest. Steckrübe hopped onto the counter and nuzzled Nick’s face. Nick patted Steckrübe’s head and continued examining his injury.

Alex knocked on the door a few minutes later. “Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright in there?”

Nick opened the door and looked up at Alex.

“Can I see where you hit the barricade?”

Nick pointed vaguely to his chest, not lifting up his shirt.

“Maybe we should get that checked out.”

Nick shook his head and pulled Alex’s sweatshirt on over his shirt. He quietly slunk off to Alex’s room, where he flopped onto the bed with more caution than usual. Alex followed right behind, flopping next to him and running a hand through Nick’s hair.

“Why’d you decide to stage dive tonight, anyway?”

“Never did it before. But hey...I’ll try anything once,” Nick murmured softly as he pulled the blankets around himself, the pain in his chest growing even sharper.

---

Alex slipped into the classroom as quietly as he could, making his way to his usual seat while trying to act like he wasn’t strolling in ten minutes late. He slid into his chair and glanced over at Bob, who was doodling in his sketchbook, obviously not listening to the lesson. Bob didn’t look up. “Hey,” Alex whispered.

“Hey,” Bob replied in a soft voice, eyes still downcast. Alex shifted uneasily. The tension was unbearable.

Once their professor had finished her lesson and sent the class off to work, Alex decided to try and break the silence. “That was a really great show last night, huh?”

“Mmm,” Bob replied, the grip on his pencil noticeably tighter whenever Alex spoke to him. “How’s Nick?”

“I’m not sure, to be completely honest with you,” Alex sighed, flipping to a new page in his sketchbook. “I walked him to class this morning and he got all dizzy and had to take a break…he just sat down in the middle of the sidewalk. I’m worried.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound good.” Bob looked around the room, not wanting to focus too much on Alex.

“You did great last night, though. You’re incredible for someone who just started.”

“Thanks,” Bob nodded and went back to sketching. Don’t give him too much attention. He flipped the pages of his sketchbook, lingering for a moment on the sketch of Alex, the memories of their hookup the other night swirling through his mind, despite his attempts to push them away.

Suddenly, Alex’s phone started ringing. He flipped it open to see the caller ID. Bob looked up, a bit confused, because Alex was always sure to leave his phone on silent. Alex mouthed something to Bob that he couldn’t quite understand and left the room.

“Can you come pick me up?”

“What’s wrong?” Alex leaned against the wall outside the classroom.

“I feel sick…” Nick sounded a bit out of it over the phone.

“Alright. After class. And then we’re going to get you checked out.”

“I’m fine. Just take me home.”

“I’m only picking you up if we can go get you some medical attention.”

“I just need to rest…”

“Fine. I’ll be there in about an hour, alright? Do you want me to bring anything?”

Nick paused. “Snack for Steckrübe?”

Alex laughed softly. “Okay. Be there soon.” Alex returned to class and started packing his bag.

“Going somewhere?” Bob asked, once again not looking up from his drawing.

“Yeah, picking up Nick,” Alex sighed as he continued to collect his belongings.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up your desk,” Bob smiled. “I can stay for a minute after class to clean up.”

“No, I can clean up, I promise!”

“I’ll do it for you. Go get Nick.”

Alex finally gave in and thanked Bob before gathering his belongings and quietly leaving class. Bob watched as he left, still unable to shake the memory of their tryst. It had been good. Very, very good. Bob couldn't deny that. But as soon as it had ended, something had changed. Bob wasn’t sure if it was his anxiety playing tricks on him, but something seemed...different with Alex now. And on top of that, Bob felt sick with guilt at the fact that he had lied to Paul when he’d come home later than expected. He desperately wanted both Paul and Alex, that was certain. How could he ever choose? Bob sighed and put his pencil back to the paper.

Alex found Nick sitting on a bench in the main hall of the music school, slumped against the wall, holding his guitar and Steckrübe’s bag. Alex took both the guitar and the bag from Nick. “Maybe we should get a leash for the cat so you don’t have to hold him all the time,” Alex laughed, trying to ease the tense, heavy mood.

Nick nodded, but didn’t get up from the bench. Alex helped him up, letting him lean against him. Nick’s chest hurt more and more with each step, his breathing becoming more and more painful and uneven. He kept pushing on despite the pain, not wanting Alex, or anyone around them, to know how much it hurt. As soon as they reached the flat, Nick went into Alex’s room and fell asleep on the bed, not even bothering to get changed. Alex watched anxiously from the doorway as Nick tossed and turned in his sleep.

[springdase]

207. anniversary

it’s like he forgets the reality of physics, that things exposed to heat will most often become hot, when he dives into the oven at the timer’s call and tries to take the cake tin out bare-handed. he retracts as soon as his fingertips meet scalding metal and he curses, clutching his hands to his chest and hissing. he knows he’s too excited, and being too excited will lead to having to start this over again - and he doesn’t have time to try making a third cake. the first attempt sits at the bottom of the kitchen garbage bin, a mess of blue goo because he’d started icing it far before it was cooled, and he’s not sure he even has enough box mix left for another attempt should he mess this one up, too. he checks the time on his phone with a buzz of something like butterflies in his stomach.

he’d asked namjoon to pick up dinner around an hour ago and had been pleased to find that he’d already planned on it. although he isn’t the best cook outside of spicing up instant ramyeon, jeongguk had wanted to try his hand at making something proper, had spent an incriminating amount of time browsing pinterest for recipes even he couldn’t mess up, had bought the ingredients for a simple-looking pasta dish, but after wasting most of the afternoon (and his blue icing) on a botched baking attempt, he knew he wouldn’t be able to have it done and plated by the time namjoon came home from work. now seeing his name flash across his phone screen saying that he’s on his way home, jeongguk feels akin to a teenager about to go on his first date.

he pockets his phone and slips on the pair of pink oven mitts jimin had gifted them for their housewarming and retreives his project, setting the heart-shaped tin on the counter. he’d gotten the table fan out of their bedroom in hopes of speeding up the process, so he sets it up beside the cake and sets it on high, then leaves it to chill while he hurries to clean up his mess. there’s puddles of flour on the tile floor, an egg shell that missed the trash can, drops of milk on the counter, and the state of jeongguk’s clothes is another story entirely - he’s still shower fresh from before this whole ordeal began, but the splatters of cake waste on his sweatshirt and jeans won’t do.

jeongguk scrubs down the kitchen in record time and properly tests the cake’s temperature before he starts decorating it. his tongue peeks out between his lips like it does when he’s concentrating, hard at work; he coats the surface in a near seamless glaze of white buttercream and uses what’s left of the blue to pipe words as neatly as he can, and meticulously craft a few little hearts here and there. it’s undeniably ugly but it’s finished, and he sprints to the bathroom to wash up and change, running back to light the tea candles he’d bought, just in case namjoon gets home before he’s ready.

he’s spritzing some perfume on his wrist and his neck when he hears the front door’s locks turning, and with one last once-over in the mirror he runs into the living room where he’s set everything up. it looks as close to his daydream as he could manage, balloons kissing the ceiling, flower petals scattered on the carpet, bottle of wine from seokjin and two glasses at the ready, and he’s so satisfied and so ready for namjoon to come through the door and fall in love with him all over again.

leaning against the back of their sofa, he tries to make himself look as casual as possible - tries arms folded, arms to his sides, hands in his pockets, settles for clasping them together so namjoon can’t see them shake - and watches the doorknob turn, the light from the hallway flood into their apartment, and settles on namjoon. he’s trying to wrangle a few plastic bags, more balloons, and what’s probably the biggest bouquet of flowers jeongguk’s ever seen, so he doesn’t immediately notice the scene that’s waiting for him and jeongguk tries to bite down on his smile, to not let his giggling give him away.

when he finally gets the door shut and his sneakers off, namjoon finally straightens up and turns around, looking a bit flustered from the battle he must have fought to get up to their floor with all of his luggage. it disintegrates, though, as soon as he sees jeongguk standing there looking so simultaneously embarrassed and certain, nose scrunched up and front teeth prominent. he’s like a little kid showing his parent what he’d made at school, and namjoon couldn’t describe the way his heart twists if he tried.

“oh my god,” he tries, after a moment of stunned silence, staring at jeongguk, and then the room, and then jeongguk some more. the glow of the candles on jeongguk’s skin, against his strawberry blonde hair, god, in his eyes - there’s no feeling quite like coming home to jeongguk any day, but tonight, it’s that much more heartstopping. “you… oh my god.”

jeongguk feels like if he smiles any wider, his cheeks are going to pop right off of his face. he brings his hands up to press against them, like he’s trying to will himself to calm down, like there could possibly be something wrong with being so full of joy that he can’t contain it. “hi,” he murmurs, unable to keep the essence of a laugh in.

namjoon sets the bags of take out on the ground, lets the balloons float to the ceiling like the rest of them, and crosses the room to meet jeongguk, offering the bouquet of flowers so bashfully he may as well be shoving them into jeongguk’s chest. the younger takes them graciously, squeezing his eyes shut in an act of pure bliss. “hi,” namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he gets shy. even after all this time, jeongguk still manages to make him shy.

“these are so,” jeongguk inhales the delicate scent of the peonies, the lavender and baby’s breath, so soft and pretty and his favorite. “you didn’t have to…”

“neither did you!” namjoon gestures vaguely to the room around them, his face as red as jeongguk’s feels. “no wonder you were barely answering my texts earlier. you were scheming.”

jeongguk cradles the flowers in one arm and uses the other to reel namjoon into him, cupping the back of his neck and leaning up the little distance it takes to press their mouths together, a gentle caress that’s more smiles than contact, really. “of course i was scheming,” he says, kissing him again. “i’m very mischievous.”

namjoon’s palms find jeongguk’s waist, his slight hips beneath his too-big sweater, and pulls him close enough to feel his body heat all over. he smells like his usual soap, like fresh cotton, like home. “happy anniversary, babe.”

maybe it’s a bit much, jeongguk thinks as he stands there letting their kisses melt like chocolate, grow deeper and dreamier and more careful. three years isn’t call for much celebration, he’d found after asking around about what he should do for theirs, but he wanted it to be special - as special as every day this far has been, will keep being, so long as they’re with namjoon. and if all the fanfare and effort he’d gone through is kind of a way of thanking namjoon for putting up with him this long, then let that be implied, too.

“is that —- did you make that?” namjoon asks when they’ve finally given each other a chance to breathe, his chin hooking over jeongguk’s shoulder in a tender hug. jeongguk sets his bouquet on the couch behind them - he’s already thinking of the nice vase he’s going to put them in, right on their kitchen table - and holds his boyfriend in a proper embrace, arms winding around his shoulders. he nods, hiding his sheepish face in namjoon’s neck.

“it’s… yeah. i don’t really know about the taste but i hope it’s, hope it’s pretty, at least.” he stutters, twining his fingers into the baby hairs at the nape of namjoon’s neck. when he lifts his head to look at him, he finds the reflection of all the candles in namjoon’s eyes, some fondness swimming in them, in the muted little grin on his full lips. jeongguk breathes out softly.

“it is, gguk. it’s perfect. i knew i was right to assume there was nothing you couldn’t do.”

he thinks about telling him how he’d messed up the first time, how it wasn’t supposed to look anything like it does, thinks about complaining about all the trouble he’d caused himself because he actually can’t bake —- but he doesn’t. he doesn’t tell him that he’d gone to three stores looking for a heart-shaped tin, or that he spent ages trying to create a shade of blue closest to namjoon’s favorite before he started mixing food coloring in icing, or that he’s been anticipating this day since their very first date, excited to get to this point and beyond. he doesn’t say that he feels so in love right now that he could faint.

“i love you,” he does say, cupping namjoon’s jaw for one more kiss before he presses his forehead to his and lets namjoon lace their fingers together. he doesn’t say that he can feel namjoon’s hands trembling against his when he says it back, or that they’re sweaty, because his are, too. he giggles at how ridiculous they’re being, wonders when the new-love jitters are going to wear off.

(they never do.)

[cieloxcnco]

yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch6

Chapter 6

Words: 3,500+

Warnings: little suggestive sexy stuff, nothing too awful. but God knows i’m not the best judge.

A/N: pretty major note- first person point of view was pissing me off. I’m gonna go back into the other chapters and slowly change it to narration, but I couldn’t say as much in the story with it only being told through Isabella’s eyes, so I’m going to switch it to basic third person now. I hope that’s not too confusing.

chapter 1 is here chapter 2 is here chapter 3 is here chapter 4 is here chapter 5 is here if you need to catch up.

The electricity of her climax sent tremors through her, clutching his body against hers as he also let go. He dug his teeth into Isa’s shoulder, groaning her name as his body shook. Nothing existed to them in this moment but her, him, and the way that being alone with him made her feel. She was beautiful, she was loved, she was everything. This together was perfect. And in a moment, once the high washed away with the waves of her orgasm, the anxiety returned and tied the knots in the pit of her stomach even tighter. The way her head was tossed on the pillow, the first sight when she opened her eyes was a photograph of her and her husband on their wedding day, and here she was betraying him and having sex with his best friend and bandmate. Catching his breath, Chris had collapsed on the bed beside her, so she spooned against him so she was facing away from him. Used to cuddling after being so intimate, his arm wrapped about her waist and pulled her into him, kissing the back of her head. “Te amo, preciosa.” “Yo también te amo,” she whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear her voice cracking. She moved her face against to wipe the escaped tear on the pillowcase. “¿Mi amor?” he asked quietly, knowingly. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. I just missed you.” Isa shrugged and tried to wiggle herself so she was closer against him, her eyes still transfixed on her wedding photo. “It’s probably my hormones just being weird.” “Amor,” he insisted, “be honest. Please.” He knew her better than she knew herself and, to a degree, she hated that. She moreover was scared of it because it made her wonder if he could see the divide in her head and her heart. She took a deep calming breath and slowly exhaled, choked by the whimper that came out of her throat. And she admitted everything. “...The feelings I have for you scare me. I'm so in love with you - I never knew I could feel like this. But I love him too... He's been there for me through everything. He's loved me when I haven't deserved it... And how would I be able to hurt him by saying after I've created a life and a family with him that it doesn't matter because I'm in love with someone else?” The tears flowed freely now. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. “All I've ever done is make foolish choices and hurt people. And with him, that was supposed to change. How is that fair?” She gasped out again. “I love him. I do. I promised him forever… I just never expected…you…" He stroked her hair and trailed his fingertips over her collar. “I understand, mi amor. But… you could just talk to him.” Isabella scoffed. “Talk to him and say what? ‘You know, Zabdiel, all the effort that you've put into loving me and trying to make us work when I've been dragging you down and driving you insane was useless. We got married in a rush because I was pregnant but we grew up and said we loved each other so we just built our family to try to make us work, but guess what? I'm in love with someone else to the point that I don't know if I can be with you anymore. Oh, and on top of all that, it's one of your best friends. Hope you don't mind.’ Yeah, I’m sure that would go over really well.” He sighed and his arm around her went lax. “I know. And I don’t want my selfishness to dictate your emotions but… I just want to have our family, too. I can’t see my life with anyone but you by my side. ” It was difficult for her to speak clearly through the crying she still wouldn’t let him see. “I know, and that’s the other half of it... My feelings for you are so strong and I love you so much- how am I going to look at you and say I don't want to try because I'm scared?” He reached for her hand, tracing the pads of his fingers over hers. She shivered at that slight touch alone. “I'm scared of hurting a great man and my family, that I'm scared that you'll change your mind when you find out what it's really like being with me, that you'll leave and I'll have lost everything because I gambled when I'm safe where I am now?” He would have had a retort if she hadn’t been so upset. He would have countered that she wasn’t safe where she was because she was having an affair, that she would be better off leaving and being with him. But seeing her crying, he could only try to calm her. “You could never lose me. I love you too much. Whatever happens between us, with any of this, you’re stuck with me.” He hugged her tightly against his body for emphasis. “Like glue.” Through the lessened tears came a single giggle. “You’re stupid,” she laughed, taking his hand off her belly and kissing his wrist. She then bit her lip. There was one way to just get this emotion blocked out of her mind. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head again. “Now, come. No llores más. No te preocupes.” She arched her back and ground her hips back against his. “Make me stop thinking about it, Papi.” She could hear the pleasured exhale that left his lips and felt his growing desire return. “¿Estás segura?” “Fuck me til I forget about it, baby,” she begged, moaning at the thought. He gulped and, with concerted effort, pushed her backside away from his groin. “Que no.” She stopped in surprise. “What?” He sat up in bed, looking down at her sadly. “You do this sometimes and it worries me.” She turned over, looking up at him with her head on his stomach. “What are you talking about?” He shook his head. “When you don’t want to deal with your feelings, you turn off the emotional and revert to the physical. You can’t do that all the time. You have to let yourself feel.” She shut her eyes to try and block out what he was saying. But again, it was the truth because he knew her better than she knew herself. His apple watch vibrated with an alert that once he viewed it made him shift to move off the bed. “I should get going. I will talk to you tonight. But please think about what we discussed.” She nodded but turned back over; the idea of him getting dressed and leaving was too much to take. They never knew when this time now might have to be the last time, so each walk out of the door was possibly a gone and goodbye. She could only wallow in her usual sadness for a moment before she knew she had to sit up and get dressed. Her mother would be dropping Joaquin off from their morning in the park soon and she couldn’t be this sobbing mess in front of her son. She picked her clothes up from the floor and gingerly put them back on, facing away from him as she did. If she caught his gaze again, she was afraid she would shatter. Seeing she had put her wall back up, he sighed again, “I love you. I love you more than you could ever understand.” Ignoring her imposed distance, he walked to where she sat and cupped her face in his hands so he could kiss her forehead before he left. And he might have meant it low enough so she wouldn’t hear, but she caught his whisper before he shut the bedroom door behind him. “I love you enough to let you go and lose you if that’s what you really want.”

-

Christopher shut his own bedroom door behind him once he returned home, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses when he saw his blonde publicity stunt sitting on the bed in unnecessarily revealing negligee. Krista tucked her legs up against her chest and hugged her knees against her tightly. “Thought you’d be back earlier. You have a good day?” she prodded gently. “Sí,” he replied flatly, chucking his sweatshirt into the laundry basket in the corner of the room and setting his sunglasses atop the dresser. “More work in the studio?” she asked, gnawing on her lower lip. “Not today,” he said through an exhale, shedding all of his clothes except his boxers. “I’m only trying to make civil conversation with you, amor,” she said softly. “Don’t call me that,” he seethed. Her eyes widened in surprise, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard that. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I’m trying.” “Too hard,” he growled. Only when he rid his torso of his undershirt did she note the red marks across his back indicative of a woman having passionately raked her nails across his skin. “You were with her, weren’t you?” He didn’t bother with an answer this time, only a nod. Her lower lip quivered beneath her teeth. “You keep saying you’ll stop but you don’t. You love her, don’t you?” His nod this time was shorter, his body more tense as he stalked off to the bathroom. “Why can you love her and not me?” she whispered, but sure he heard when he stopped in his tracks. His tongue prodded the side of his cheeks in search of the proper answer, but he didn’t need to think for long. “Because she doesn’t need me. You depend on me for your fame. You use me. You don’t care about me.” “If she cared about you the way you think she does, you two would be together,” she hissed. He shut the bathroom door behind him and left her alone. And her worried frown turned into a sly grin- she’d hit a nerve because she was right. The other woman may have won the battle of the night, but she’d lose the war.

-

Isa kissed Joaquin’s temple as his breathing slowed and his eyelashes fluttered with the start of a dream. “Finalmente,” She heard Zabdiel whisper behind her from the doorframe. Isa immediately stiffened her shoulders at the thought. “Really? All he did today was wonder when papi was going to come home to play like he promised.” He groaned at the instant confrontation. “Nena, it was a lot at the studio today.” She wasn’t angry enough to let her tongue slip and say that she knew the band wasn’t working today because one of the other members was in their bed. Zabdiel had been working a lot on production, maybe he’d been there with the technicians alone? She excused him in her mind, but it did nothing to lower her fury. Their son’s heart was hurting over another broken word. “Tranquila,” he whispered, catching her wrist as she moved to walk past him. “Don’t wake him,” she growled lowly. “It took so long to get him to calm down.” “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, pulling her arms to rest around his neck. “What took you so long?” she asked, trying not to choke up. “You promised him, Zabdiel.” “I was there with Carlos and we got dinner. We lost track of time. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you,” he breathed into her ear. Catching the whiskey aroma of his exhale, it was no longer a secret as to why he and his brother hadn’t been aware of the passing hours. She was trying not to whine and sound defeated. “You’re a father and a husband, Zabdiel. You’re gone more often than not and you wonder why we’re left wanting. You only are home when it’s convenient for you, but we need you.” “I need you too,” he murmured, turning them so that he was facing the wall and backing me against it. She could tell now by his demeanor that he was no longer focused on their discussion and more on their physical proximity. “Zabdiel,” she said sharply. “Mi amor,” he groaned, leaning against her so she was pressed to the wall and his growing hardness was rubbing between her legs. “Zabdiel,” she protested. “No.” “You don’t want to let me have you?” he whispered, flicking the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear. Her palms against the planes of his chest, Isa shoved him back enough to give her space to meet his shocked stare. “This isn't how you should have me,” she hissed. “Being married to me isn’t just about sex when it’s convenient. It’s more than showing me off on a red carpet as an accessory. It’s loving me and having me at your side, caring about the family we’ve made… The way you act lately makes me wonder if you really even care about me to stay married… Do you even still love me?” His stare grew more confused. “What are you talking about? You’re my wife.” She shook her head adamantly, biting her lip. “That isn’t what I asked you. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” His fingertip trailed down over her jawline, aligning the angle of their faces to kiss her. “I promised you forever.” He leaned in but she turned so his mouth pressed to her cheek. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything either.” He stepped back and kept his eyes locked on hers, trying to find the answer before she could say it. “What are you doing? What are you saying?” She scoffed, whispering almost to herself, “You haven’t once now been able to say you love me.” She brushed her hair behind her ear and focused her stare on their shoes. “Maybe you don’t anymore… Maybe it’s time to let this go.”

-

Zabdiel wasn’t on the top of his game anywhere near ready for a performance, but here they stood. “Mangulicious,” Clara called, trying to coax a smile from him. “Listo?” “I guess,” he said slowly, adjusting the tuning of his guitar more than necessary. Maybe his fingers just needed focus. “Are you okay, principe?” she cooed, rolling her hand over his shoulder. He shrugged and walked his fingers over the frets, playing short chords. He wasn’t going to admit to her that last night he’d basically been propositioned an end to his marriage, lost himself in alcohol-fueled emotional tears, and slept the very little that he did in a guest bedroom to give space and settling time to the idea Isa had introduced. “It’s easy- only about twenty fans who won the chance to sit in on the interview about the new music. You’ll do a few of the songs to give them the chance to hear it, but it’s simple and you guys are prepared with the acoustic harmonizing on the new stuff. You’re going to have an amazing show. No te preocupes, tesoro,” she encouraged. Erick and Chris were in the corner of the room, having taken over the band’s instagram live and were making faces while singing to their followers. Joel and Richard were admiring the crowd from the side of the curtain without peeking enough to be seen. Aaliyah was poking Miguel’s cheeks to make him burst into fits of giggles and Jasmyn sat with Kaja, pouring over maternity magazines. All had smiles on their faces, save for him. “I’m trying not to… I’m just tired,” he excused. No sooner did the words leave his mouth that Clara shouted over the commotion for Renato to bring over a coffee. “Will Isa be here soon? She and Joaquin being here should make you feel better.” He shook his head. “Isa is in the press pit taking pictures. Joaquin is with Renato.” Clara turned and saw that Zabdiel’s mini-me was the one running over an iced coffee for his father. “Here, Papi,” he said, beaming. “Gracias, mijo,” Zabdiel whispered, kissing Joaquin’s forehead. “Oye, asere,” Erick shouted, racing up behind and clapping his hand on Zabdiel’s back. “Christopher asked us a favor. I know we’re doing a few new songs, but he wants to do a classic one we didn’t have on the setlist, if we could do it acoustically tonight anyway.” Zabdiel noted where Erick had written the track name near the end of the scheduling and nodded. “That’s fine.” “Pues, están listos. Vamos,” he said with a wide smile. With the introduction of the radio deejay, the band moved to wooden barstools centerstage, Erick and Zabdiel dragging their guitars with them. The interview went smoothly, the fans lost their minds over the new sample songs from the album, and then Christopher abruptly stopped the entire flow. “Elena,” he said coquettishly at the deejay, “If it’s okay, I know we have a song that is a favorite of our fans we’d like to bring back today. I know how much it means to so many.” He stared down the camera in Isabella’s hands, and that left no doubt about the implications. And with the first chords coming from the boys’ guitars, her heart fell from her chest to the pit of her stomach. “Duele cien veces más que si se hundiera un clavo, en mi piel cada vez que veo tu foto y aun estas con el - no aprendí aceptar que seas de otro," Erick sang lowly. Chris gripped his microphone stand tightly, his eyes never leaving the lens of the camera his love was hiding behind. Erick continued to sing, but Christopher mouthed the words clearly intended for her. “Yo no entiendo, si al final quieres estar aquí, por que insistes en quedarte allí.” “Y es que dudo que el en verdad te ame como yo,” Zabdiel followed, and her chest siezed up. He didn’t understand the truth he was singing and how her veins were almost afire with guilt and pain. “Y es que no me creo que en otro lugar eras más feliz de lo que fuiste aqui.” She lowered her camera for a moment to wipe the tear away from her eye with the heel of her palm. It was the only moment Christopher’s eyes left hers, possibly unable to look at the hurt he’d just caused. “Si falle me arrepentí de rodillas ante ti- Pero sabes que no te mentí cuando dije-“ Even with it then being Erick’s verse, Christopher echoed him lowly, sure to hold onto her gaze as he did it. “Nadie te amará como yo a ti te amo, nadie te amará.” Their fan-faces were in full effect during the meet and greet session. Their smiles were ever present, taking pictures and giving hugs to all the girls who had been so wild upon hearing their music. Joaquin and Aaliyah poked their heads out from behind the curtains and waited until all the fans were done before they jumped in for a picture of their own. Though it was not long until Richard picked up both children and handed them to an unsuspecting and confused Joel. Richard chuckled, saying simply, “Practice, man.” Today, even with the reality of paparazzi outside, Zabdiel had an excuse not to hold Isabella’s hand as they exited the studio together. He busied himself with walking Joaquin safely across the parking lot, strapping him into his carseat, and taking over to drive them home. Isa quietly scanned through the photographs she’d taken, deleting a few similar ones so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious that her camera had been focused on one member more than the rest. Zabdiel was silent when they returned to their house. Joaquin ran off to play, Isa went to make dinner, and he sat quietly in his studio room. Usually to get into the musically creative mindset, he would pick up his guitar and start humming to himself, tapping drum beats on the guitar’s hollow body, plucking short notes he could later assign to a new song. But he made no noise, save the slight movement of his fingers when they tapped along his knee. He probably had to be that quiet because his thoughts were screaming so loudly. But the one thought he could not escape as much as he tried to fight it- maybe I was right. He removed his cell phone from his pocket and set it on the ledge of the piano meant for sheet music. Setting it on the front facing camera, he opened instagram and set to record a story he could publish for his fans. They loved when he posted covers. They didn’t need to know he was singing it because his heart related. He knew his English was not his strength, especially in song, and he may have stumbled over the lyrics, but he strummed along to James Bay’s familiar melody. “If this is all we’re living for, why are we doing it anymore? I used to recognize myself- it’s funny how reflections change. When we’re becoming something else, I think it’s time to walk away.”

-

Hope you guys liked it. I’m sorry I stomped on your hearts a little. Just remember, things happen, but things can also change.

Feedback is always appreciated.

chapter 7 is here