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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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Group Sex With SuperM

SUMMARY: creating a group chat is all it takes.

↳ A/N. yep, we’re going there.

words. 14k

WARNINGS ⚠️ friends to lovers hc, porn with plot, idol au, sex w/ all members individually and together, dom/sub dynamics, corruption kink, sexting, blowjobs & cunnilingus, gaping, graphic, pegging, bondage, light foot fetish, sex toys, spitroasting (m receiving), brat taming, dick riding, protected sex, doggystyle, cuddling aftercare

curious about an eightsome are we

understood

how’s the state of things then?

last september you decided to open an entire group chat just for planning your juicy sexual activities together

and oh lord is it active

and full of ideas

and explicit videos

and emojis

and excitement

yesterday taemin sent a clip of lusciously covering himself in champagne foam for you

wearing close to nothing

in fact just a piece of gauze, a snake-shaped necklace, and probably a bit of perfume

oh boy

watching that was an out-of-body experience for sure

the entire chat basically imploded with reactions

but hey hey

not so fast

we need to go through everything from the start

to see how all these utterly historic events happened to unfold

so where did all that come from?

first off

befriending super m outside work (eating together, fooling around, bingwatching stuff, you know)

...means there’s no point nor chance in having a permanent favorite with a group like this

every member truly is the creme de la creme

super m is the package of the entire packages

they are so legendary you can bias each member for one day of the week

and never run out of that pure bliss

in fact

you all agreed to do exactly that on a regular basis to get to know each other casually

it just naturally happened

seven days seven members that’s just logical

you can’t always hang out together in full attendance so you split up your times and set specific days

you change that routine very often depending on your individual moods

but it usually goes like this because you want to develop closer bonds with them one-on-one

so this is how it ends up

mondays you work out with xuxi. oh, that sexy smiley man. his body is the ultimate bomb. is there something better than doing sit-ups next to him? anybody’s sports motivation would go through the roof. and if there’s someone you call to share a pile of food with? it’s just gotta be him. being with yukhei is self-care.

tuesdays, you visit ten to check out his latest dance moves. and: to have a huge cuddle session with the cats. sometimes, you watch whatever series you’re in the mood for. it’s always a time to slow down and mend your sore muscles from monday anyway. you think ten is so interesting and talented, and super pretty, truly one of a kind.

on wednesdays jongin and you often end up on long midnight walks with the dogs or you both look after his cute nieces. meeting up at the river han is a staple, you get ice cream and snacks. you adore kai because he’s a sweetheart and steadfast person, and admittedly... so damn hot, holy hell. being with him makes you feel great.

thursday is baekhyun day and full of cheeriness as you’d expect. long hours of gaming, cheeky skinship, banter, and pizza eating await you at his apartment. you adore this mochi for his everything, he makes you laugh uncontrollably so much. sometimes, you also comfort him when he doesn’t feel good about himself or exhausted from practice. he will sing anything you want, baekhyun is like your personal 24/7 radio station.

fridays it’s time for the studio. mark is crafting his most fire bars and loves to have you around there. you inspire him a lot. he’s just completely astounding and the sweetest to you. friday most people would go clubbing, but super m just has to meet up in the studio. no paparazzi, and the music is obviously danceable. i’m telling you: this mob can jop, duh.

saturday is for handsome taeyong who loves coming to your home. cooking, organizing, doing the laundry, and browsing youtube together is the best thing. taeyong is the shyest goodest boy and a great listener. he gives great advice and is the epitome of respectful. you just vibe very well together.

sunday you dedicate to taemin. you watch artsy films, experiment with outfits, and he plays the piano for you so expertly. man, you are lucky. he’s like a fairy to you, and a connoisseur, a mythical figure almost. since he’s a newly-found cat dad, you easily fill your day playing with the most interesting kitten that is lee kkoong. sometimes, you even meet shinee members dropping by.

so yes this is what paradise looks like

and they all love to engage with you in their own way and you develop favorite ways to spend time, they put so much effort into this

it goes without saying that you all realize how hard you’re crushing as the weeks pass

like can you imagine

all the hormones i swear

you’ve already been joking to them that you have seven boyfriends some months ago

well the prophecy is fulfilled faster than you can blink

when you meet up as eight for a movie night at baekhyun’s, the atmosphere feels pretty frisky

because lucas is sending you ten thousand glances and certainly nobody misses that

if this guy is laughing at your every word i mean

meanwhile taeyong is having a nervous meltdown at your every comment about the movie, it’s ridiculous, he’s smitten as fuck, he looks at you like you’re an actual goddess

mark keeps on making glimmering eyes at you as well, and he asks you if you want popcorn every two minutes

baekhyun is all curled up close to your lap and not even watching the movie because his face is almost nuzzled into your sweater for fuck’s sake

taemin has spent the entire preperation in complete frenzy making sure there are scented candles everywhere and the snacks are exquisite and costly. mother taemresa? at full throttle. he even used his own damn credit card.

meanwhile kai suffers from his fidgety legs, constant hair fixing and even more inability to concentrate on the movie

because damn, he knows he wants your attention. he literally came around with the tightest shirt he owns so there’s that. you can see every little muscle doing its thing when he does as much as breathe. kai is now well aware he came to impress. it won’t take him a lot to realize he wants to be even closer to you than doing midnight walks.

ten is so firmly snuggled up next to you, he might as well be your cat himself. if ten starts acting like a clingy feline instead of being in roast mode, you know he’s lovestruck i’m telling ya

needless to say

the mood in the room is hard to ignore

hell there are romance candles everywhere all those hecking rose fumes are to blame

surprise surprise all the members try to sit as close as possibly to you the more the movie progresses

even abandoning the couch and seats to sit on the ground in front of you instead

“you want popcorn?”

“like some more popcorn?”

“here, have my popcorn!“

“more popcorn?”

“hey do you want popcorn?”

from all sides, constantly

the m in super m stands for making sure you have popcorn

you never run out

like when the leading lady is pulling out a cigarette in those old hollywood flicks and at least twenty guys are scurrying to offer a lighter

i’m exaggerating but

nobody even knows what kind of movie they’re watching tonight though

the elephant in the room is trumpeting too loud to understand the dialogue

you’re surrounded by seven big ole hotties who have fallen for you

it was inevitable

it’s more than clear to everyone that they all like you and you couldn’t be any more fluttered yourself

let the hunger games begin

i’m jopping i mean i’m joking

this is not the wwe

it’s pretty clear to the boys that if they fight you’re gonna be so unhappy and your quality time together is ruined

you adore them all, and they’d be regretful about hurting their own bonds

and anyway

if it came down to it and the bad blood was really escalating um...

...ten would destroy all of the competition

there’s no denying

by the simple virtue of his badassery and winning disease

quickly reducing all his opponents to a pile of dust so fine-grained, the great freddie mercury himself would resurrect to sing the soundtrack in the background and pump his fist

imagine that. superm actually being gladiators i mean wasn’t that the entire jopping mv

baekhyun would try to pull the leader authority card and use his hapkido martial arts skill but ten would obliterate him anyway so

even if taemin put on a dark robe and drew a salt circle to summon a million snakes from hell, ten would win the fight to a fault

but that’s too apocalyptic and outside of that thought experiment the boys are actually kinda shy so... let’s scratch that

there are seven days of the week with good reason

you ease the uncertainty and tension by saying you’d truly fail as a tv bachelorette

everyone understands that deciding would be impossible and cheating is shit

why give someone a rose and break 6 hearts when you can hand out a whole damn bouquet

it’s more stylish my friend

and for what reason would ten want to face off against taemin and his army of snakes in the first place. they’re ten’s greatest inspiration

nor does kai have any tighter shirts

he already ran out, he brought his A game from the get-go

on top of that the popcorn is empty there’s no more to offer

so you remain with the idea to just keep your daily routine

xuxi monday, ten tuesday and so on

keeps everything in order

it’s fair

plus it doesn’t mess with their schedules

usually unless a big award show is coming up but that can be re-planned in advance as well

you know... things can develop in their own timing with each member

it’d be awkward to expect everyone to be on the same stage at once

baekhyun is comfortable with all kinds of back hugs while taeyong and taemin are still completely flustered and turn all wobbly at just a greeting wave

you know what i mean

it’s already clear everyone loves you very differently

some members are more straightforward, others take it slow, it’s just a normal thing

that’s when the group chat is born

it’s still very sfw

compared to how explicit it’ll be in the future ahem

and everyone is overcautious with writing something except baekhyun, the eternal extrovert

for now you keep each other updated on how it’s all going with trivial details

earlier you just had individual chats and baekhyun arranged the group meetings since he knows the schedule best

now it’s all in one spot so that works

everyone’s curiosity is quenched at least a little bit

and they see each other anyway and put their heads together

baekhyun will be the most open about how far your skinship slowly develops followed by lucas and kai who oggle each other in their usual tom and jerry manner

which you have an eye on

you tell the members something very important for when they’re envious

or feel the need to one-up or catch up

it’s the sign to get closer to you and that they’re ready for taking another step. that’s literally what jealousy is all about

that advice helps them out a lot actually

kai takes that to heart in particular because he knows he’s prone and feels bad about it

and they also learn from ten who carries a quiet happiness with confidence that doesn’t need comparison, but he can also talk very honestly about how he’s standing with you to the point

ten knows how it’s done

as expected of such a competent man

like he’s kissed your hands very lightly but he doesn’t feel the need to show it off all day

and he also leads by example together with taemin and taeyong how one can give compliments even when not being involved in something

“you’re looking adorable together“ as taemin would often say about you hanging out with kai or baekhyun

a lot of praise culture is developing in the group chat

you like to see it

and now for the other elephant in the room

as for who will ask you to sleep with him first

(and mind you at this point they’re all walking around with condoms in their backpacks and jackets)

believe it or not

after the finishing touches on his latest mixtape (oh yes), and those tracks have you feeling some kind of way oh shit, mark gathers all his courage

yes it’s mark lee

literally he steps into the blaze of bravery of jongin when he first put on a crop top

and gets out a little “can we... some time... you know...” after you’re having some pretzel sticks together and awkwardly sitting around

oh what's gonna happen next huh?

you say you’ve been thinking about it a lot

that he has a great body doesn’t go unseen

and tell him how you imagine it with him

long story short you’ll have your first quickie in the sound booth that night

cutting straight to the chase

him steadily penetrating you from behind, you leaning closely with your back to his chest

just standing and enjoying the rhythm

that dick. is amazing.

oh god, mark lee

long, curved, smooth, a classic

meanwhile your fave rapper is definitely going through it

his arms tell you everything

that’s an embrace for the books

he’s hugging you like his life depends on it

you can just take in how he’s been showering twice today this guy is clean as fuck he smells so good

getting off from shampoo and fabric softener is not what you expected but it definitely makes you clench

you both know he’s not gonna last for more than six minutes and that’s ok

that’s a lot of long-held frustration released into that condom

and a lot of passion put into how he puts his guitar fingers to work on your clit afterwards

jimi ‘lee’ hendrix has arrived

oh yeah mark, you fucking treat, fuck it up

that way you won’t last long either since you guide his finger tips to your favorite spot and the motherfucker completely goes for it

“like this, like, um?”

and he goes off with the wrist

oh shit

it’s all kept so short and simple and you’re on the oldest mustard-colored studio couch that ever existed but mark lee is mark fucking lee nothing can obstruct his quality

like this guy has some serious skills with the angles

that orgasm is gonna get some moans you didn’t know you were capable of out of you

never wasting time, that guy is he

mark definitely fucks like he raps. fast and good

you cool down together looking each other in the eyes, forehead to forehead, for like fifteen minutes, and you give each other little chaste kisses all over your faces and he melts every time

your little rendezvous was definitely so needed

you ask if you can bring some vibes to play around with and a watermelon next time

you don’t have to ask twice

mark is so damn happy

and the timing was right

straightforward and spontaneous. that definitely works well with mark

no complaints, you go home feeling comfortably refreshed. you’ve told him he could tell the others or wait to do it, this is up to his comfort because he is shy

neither happens

after just one glance at him the next day while the group is doing a photoshoot

baekhyun already knows mark slept with you

he just knows

and makes a loud “ohh wow, you did it” noise

ten takes two only glances to understand what’s going on too

mark nods and the whole group is highstrung for the entire day

like a hive of bees oh yes

kai is massively proud of raising mark so well but also really surprised

unlike taemin who calmly advised mark on many things in advance

guess where mark’s fingering skills originate from

he took some secret pointers from the king

taeyong is shook at his rap buddy’s singleminded grit to just spontaneously ask you

while baekhyun...

is keeping it together repeating the anti-jealousy mantra you gave him in his mind

“jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer....“

it makes him realize oh god he really wants to be inside of you badly as well

you ain’t dumb, you see his change of tone from cute to sexy in the group chat even if he might not notice

baekhyun is trying extra hard to make you react to him

he posts so many cute selfies with kissy faces

needless to say taeyong’s time slot gets postponed to next thursday while you visit baekhyun this evening

it works for taeyong because he still needs to think some things through

the news overwhelmed him a little and he is shy about meeting up but that’s not a problem for you

and it’s better to get together with your mochi sooner because you both know there’s a lot of banging to do

like seriously

your mood tells you that candy’s on the menu today

oh yeah. it’s time to be all over your clingy lil’ honey bunny

there’s not much endless wooing involved it goes to the point very fast after you arrive at his home

you just wanna stop pretending and fuck like animals and see his brain melt from it

remember how baekhyun once said he doesn’t fancy nice girls

that’s what he meant by that

mattress earthquake

he wants you fully riled up with arousal and addicted to touching and grabbing him

yeah baekhyun gets off on your desire

that’s not hard to accomplish when he makes big puppy eyes and puts his tongue on your neck

with that gomez addams shit... kissing up your arm and then popping off as soon as he gets there

congrats morticia

here is a man who can handle ya

he’s being so slobbery and moany about it that it knocks the breath out of you

that shit is so good

baekhyun is not just a pro at giving head my friend it’s also giving neck

and unlike mark, may god have mercy on you, baekhyun keeps on going and going and kissing and kissing and he wants to lick up all of you so bad

we know how needy and stamina-heavy this fella is

baekhyun is super m’s most insatiable member by fucking far

he’s like just give it to me and you’re like ok here we go

this guy is burning up oh god

that’s an evening of ten thousand positions, fearless cumplay, and a lot of face-sitting

super m’s most unleashed tongue right here

thank god you worked on your fitness with xuxi otherwise you couldn’t do this

he’s moaning in some harmonic scales or something it’s a whole concert

baekhyun is fully at it with you in every room of his flat with his whole neck and underarms looking mighty veiny

yeah he even carries you around to make it short and simple he’s one impatient bun

he can lift up sehun bridal style so no worries

mochi is smol and thin but he won’t drop you i promise

he’s fueled by horny boyfriend hormones and wants to give you the greatest night of all nights

and hit all the amazing spots

baekhyun aims to make your pussy lips throb and fall completely in love with him

and the bridge of his nose if you get what i’m saying

he’s also versatile in his clothing choices

if you say keep your nerdy glasses on, oh yeah they stay on

just a little challenge to see if you can ride him hard enough to see them fall off

and that dick is not some extra long lasso mark lee calibre

so he can really bend it more and thrust with ease at many angles

talking about mark

he regrets not asking you earlier but you tell baekhyun that this way was much better because you unceremoniously skipped to the fucking instead of messing around

if it wasn’t for mark’s courage to break the ice even with a choppy sentence

you’d still be awkwardly looking each other in the eyes while munching pizza

all hail mark lee nervous legend

this way, baekhyun goes all out with fewer restraint and the burden of being first with making the impression that comes with it

we all know he’s too self-conscious for his own mochi good so that’s a better way to start out

this way baekhyun will have sex with you until he’s passed out on his bed

knocking him out like that might as well become your favorite hobby

even minutes after your tongue still feels like it’s knotted together with his honestly, the muscle memory is kicking in

and this must be the most dick thrusts you’ve ever gotten in one night

baekhyun really wants to be all inside you, make you feel him

if the condom broke at least his baby will be easy to identify from day one

it’ll come out and belt a perfect G#5

he gave it all my god you stopped counting the times you came your pussy is just dripping wet it feels crazy

and his voice has become all raspy i—

that was baekhyun’s hardest vocal run yet i swear

the contraception shelf in the convenience store next to his house is close to empty

but there’s no need to buy more

what you two perverts have been up to is enough for comfortably going through 10 years of celibacy

baekhyun is content and sleeps like a baby

you hold your bun for like two hours afterwards and never want to let him go

you are as wobbly as taeyong after getting a head pat from you

and the most well-kissed girl in this city tonight

both sets of lips

what a smoochy boyfriend

you even get the chance to jerk baekhyun off in his half-sleep after he wakes up and asks you to put your hand in his pants

guess who opens his mouth very wide to lick his own semen off your fingers with some really obscene noises

it’s his royal nastiness byun baekhyun

who sucks your tiddies to drift back into sleep again

with his hands in your pants

god bless this man

the group chat is sending 👀 emojis all the way throughout the night

your boys know love is in the air

they’re loosening up the timing is right again

you send cute smiling emojis

a bunch of “ahs” and “ohs” come through via voicemail

and lucas even writes: “so who’s next? 😳”

damn

you reply boldly: “the one asking that”

the group chat becomes a buzzing beehive again

from which you extract that kai is also very interested while ten, taeyong and taemin prefer waiting a little more

but this time you don’t switch time slots since you’ll meet xuxi on monday already

kai wants to set up something nice and prepare the catering and whatnot (alright you rich man)

so it’s gonna be wednesday as usual with him

so far so good that’s the plan

sunday being taemin day, you get together to read and paint and listen to music

you feel like just doing some sensual kissing with him and taemin is very down

yeah baby he is the kissing king, taemin is hot stuff, he knows exactly what he’s doing, those lips are the pillows at the gates of heaven

losing your mind is a staple when you do that with him

just making out on the couch surrounded by the nicest arrangement of pot plants you’ve ever seen while it rains completely relaxes you and the serotonin is off the charts

he holds you so gently and tastes so good

what is it, rose water or something like that

he even put on his coziest sweater so you’ll love leaning against him

TL;DR taemin is the biggest fucking romantic in the history of SM

that was so seductive you’ll be dreaming about it

applause for lee taemin please

perfect contrasting programme: just hours later

yeah here it goes now

monday starts with xuxi stripping more than he usually does

at the makeshift gym in his room while he’s on the treadmill

with his hair freshly dyed the most himbo shade of blonde ever

and yeah that’s blonde with an e because yukhei is too sexy to be called a blond. what an ugly word to look at

he’s a blondé

so that’s nice

he’s so dtf you just skip the workout

time for lubed condoms.

i don’t have to tell you that you literally jump on him

or that you’ll be dealing with super m’s singlemost biggest equipment

he doesn’t even have to drive it home an inch by himself you’re already riding him

he can’t handle all that gear in the first place

because how do you even develop a technique with such an unrealistic dick

hell how do you even exist like that

so it’s clear who’s taking the lead

all he has to do is work that body but it sort of happens on its own

himbo autopilot

you are going hard and chaotic on this man

xuxi doesn’t even know what hit him

he’s so vocal and excited

you fuck him while he holds you up, get down on several gym benches, have him bend you forward at the bathroom sink...

...and you attend business in ten’s room on a desk and window sill

because it’s the most silent there and doesn’t disturb xiaojun’s beauty sleep

ten has discreetly ushered you there and preoccupies himself in the kitchen with the cats

he knows how the game is played

either floor ‘em all or always watch out for others

MVP

but you are secretly wondering what ten is plotting because he has some serious self-control and observation skills

given how tidy his room is... whatever his plans are you can look forward to it

xuxi is definitely suffering from your heavy duty cock destruction in the meantime while being in heaven at the same time

that dick is worn out and dripping

so much bouncing is even gonna make the biggest boy lose it

milking that orgasm out of him is gonna be so gratifying yum

the deep and defeated moans, my god he really surrenders to the pleasure

wow that was almost as to-the-point as studio sex with mark

no idle talk in nct huh

you clean each other all exhausted and then gobble up three bowls of noodles each

then sleep for two hours in each other’s arms

then do a second round because this guy is really getting you going and yukhei wants to live this monday to the fullest

like this man gives you previously unknown levels of energy

must be the blonde hair. it does sexy things when yukhei is twitching

this time it’s a dick blowing festival

oh yeah

the type where you’re so sloppy with your head bops, he doesn’t even know where to put his hands and needs to think emergency thoughts

oh yeah big dicks make for some nice slurpy noises that sound really plump you know what i mean

he’s gonna realize very soon you do this shit for your own entertainment

and get all kinds of squeaks and faces out of him

only little pauses help him keep up the stamina so he asks you to pull off for a bit every two minutes or so

he has to look elsewhere and distract his mind with thinking about washing the dishes

girl... your tongue has this man sweating major bullets

you’re big on the corruption kink are you

once again

xuxi is gonna be so shaken and pass the fuck out from cumming

and he thought he was a horny guy

his soul must have left his body and that scalp is probably dead

but bleaching was worth it (he looks like a sleeping angel now)

not to mention banging all over the wayv dorm

ten got a preview of what’s expecting him

not that he doesn’t know he reads you well

lucas promises to return the oral favor next monday and finally collapses entirely in the living room wearing only boxers

nothing new for wayv, great sight for you

not a single workout routine has exhausted xuxi this much

he needs 10 hours of sleep to reboot

“she’s so wild 😲😂😍” is gonna be what he’ll summarize it as in the group chat later

first big boy taken down

the second one follows

wednesday is right around the corner

oh yes

kai definitely goes off with the preparation you are not ready for this spectacle

he redecorated his entire kitchen and bathroom to perfection with flowers, lanterns, dim light, petals, expensive fabrics draped from the ceiling, and there’s a great view on night time seoul

you can tell he’s best friends with taemin

i mean they’re the greatest entertainers of their time of course their taste is great

always going the extra mile

the black, sheer shirt with a deep cleavage that kai put on is nothing short of a treat

is that a lace choker he’s wearing

and his hair is pushed back lord have mercy

you get pretty weak in the knees at that

the catering leaves nothing to be desired either. a full 3-course sicily-style italian meal with 100% organic ingredients and beautiful basil and thyme garnishings

to set the mood afterwards jongin does what he does best

don’t tell me you didn’t see this one coming

just a chair for you, some music, and him

is this like a whole damn private concert?

he has prepared an entire setlist to thrill you with selected styles of dance

even a rendition of salsa, swing, and tango argentino

i’m telling you...

if kim jongin moves his body for you like that you’ll be fucking hooked and honored and not believe your eyes

what a feast

prepare for a serious case of dropped jaw

and jongin being an absolute daredevil dancing incrementally close to your chair

he incorporates all these little moments of skinship

where he strokes your hair, your jaw, or takes your hands

while at the same time he’s completely destroying it on the dancefloor

with those scorching hips and how he works it on the carpet right in front of you

you’re about to fucking melt

what a time to be alive

the sheer shirt’s buttons are holding onto dear life as do his pants

kai’s movements are becoming extremely ecstatic

what a fucking lapdance 2.0

men have clearly evolved otherwise this wouldn’t be happening

kai dances like a king on a stage but jongin? is god-like when he dances with just one person as the audience

shiit

and because he’s very nervous

he work particularly hard to ace it

in his mind he’s already underneath you judging by how he’s moving

...you can definitely fancy a luscious private concert each wednesday

and for designated activities in the bathroom

he even made a whole 5-hour playlist of the finest songs

so he can make you grind on top of him

don’t tell me kai isn’t the master of courting

king of effort

i don’t have to tell you that this is gonna be the most sensual night you’ve ever had

kai will get to know your body very, very well

those hips never stop do they

the fact that thursday is baekhyun day right after this?

wow aren’t you exhausted

the orgasms just seamlessly continue huh

everything goes on like that

friday you have a toy-filled, passionate evening at the studio with mark who’s doing the most

let’s say mark just has good ‘vibes’ indeed

this almost gets as messy as your first time with lucas

have fun cleaning up that couch, canada

what a sex marathon

if you don’t have your period

there’s always a lot of action going on

or actually. you do catch a break for the weekend

saturday you bake delicious, pistacio and pecan-crusted sticky buns with taeyong

who also shows you the new fledgelings that have hatched in his apartment

so adorable

sunday you endlessly make out with taemin in the sheets who has of course heard of jongin putting on a show

so he dances for you as well and even does the hands-tied criminal choreo in an especially luscious rendition (aka extra heavy breathing and grinding on the floor, and doing splits that almost rip his pants)

oh yes my love

nothing really happens afterwards you just have dinner completely flustered

if lee taemin dances, sex becomes redundant and doesn’t compare anymore

but really now

the slow burn is unbearable with him for fuck’s sake

taemin knows how to work up the seduction bit by bit

you basically masturbate all evening after returning to your house

god. what to do with this guy

on monday you ravage yukhei’s dick and get all that head

xuxi is a chaotic fella but he keeps his promises

plus you get the best full-body massage of your life

and for the first time pull out your phone to basically livestream yourself riding him

so the whole chat can watch for five minutes

yep. you learned that courage thing from mark lee

the camera work is obviously subpar but the video definitely has maximum effect

kai and baekhyun stream their reaction right alongside your broadcast

“woah woah oh my god oh my god!!”

everyone’s freaking out, everyone stops whatever they’re doing, everyone is glued to their screens, they love your body moving

you’re having a blast

especially when you stream another round an hour later and lucas holds the camera now

his arm is perfect for that by the way

strong and stable and high up in the air

so you can do your thing on that fat dick with a bonus of the sexiest xuxi moans ever

that deep but soft tone... yukhei really got a perfect groaning voice huh

after getting steamy for almost ten minutes, you get some great close-ups of your pussy after having yukhei pull out mid-romp

because that gape is for the gods

don’t kid yourself with a dick like that inside you’ll be opening a little wider

it looks and feels even better with lucas tracing his long fingers inside of it

with the closeup zooming in even more while he’s putting his thumb on your clit

mmh that’s good stuff

six very shaky boys are sitting in front of their phones right now being able to look um very deeply inside of you

baekhyun is basically frozen to a statue on the reaction stream and salivates nonstop it’s just running down his neck at this point

his wettest dreams are right in front of him

stretched out pussy all juicy and swollen? baekhyun’s lifeblood. he’s seeing god

he turns up the brightness of his phone to maximum so he can see every little detail

remember. this guy loves to be inside of you so obsessively he wants to pay rent to live in there

so he’s appreciating an HD view of his favorite place, really deep and really pulsing and really soaked

yukhei has slathered you in lube and really pushed apart your muscles very gently, no abrasion, you relaxed so nicely around him

it’s feeling good as fuck

kai who’s watching right next to baekhyun just stares with big eyes

every injury he ever got while dancing is suddenly healed

he’s a new man his spine has put itself together his legs are reborn

taeyong almost falls off his chair when he tunes in

he’s that bewildered

he just types a big WOW and a wall of blushing emojis

the explicit songs he’s been listening to and whatever he’s been rapping about recently are nothing in comparison to this

finally someone climbed up to taeyong’s level of nastiness

and he thought he’d never find someone on eye level

secretly he loves the nice view but he won’t admit how much

meanwhile he will rewatch this over and over for the whole week at least five times a day

and then there’s taemin

| adorable 😊🤗🎀 6v6

| can you put the camera a bit closer again 👉👈

| and turn on the flash if that’s ok 😳

| ah thank you 💟

i don’t know what taemin has seen or heard or experienced in his life and what made him this way but damn he loves that graphic shit

turning on the flash makes even yukhei’s jaw drop and rub your clit even faster

he’s damn proud he could make your pussy open up to him this way as he should be

cuz he’s really been improving his Big Cock Techniques (BCT)

mark doesn’t write anything but he’s online and streaming so yeah he’s jerking off

with two hands

baekhyun is typing how much he loves the wet sounds and how great the fingering action is

and he’s damn right. telepathy

that’s your favorite pervert right there yeehaw

in the meantime yukhei’s brain is empty he’s just smiling bright and enjoying the moment and the attention and your body

ten is basically next door because this is the fucking wayv dorm

you can hear him choke on his coffee and whisper ‘oh my fucking god, oh shit’ to himself

the phone almost topples into the sheets while lucas is putting all those rubs and circles into your clit but the audio is already telling the boys to watch very closely anyway because here it comes

taeyong is probably falling apart by now given how he’s posting a couple fragmented sentences that you try to decipher on yukhei’s phone

until you get close and take up filming yourself again

so yukhei can make a video with his own phone as well

yep that’s two cameras on you by now not just one

xuxi’s been such a steadfast babe

and he gets to see the fruits of his work. for one, just how much of an imprint he left with his cock inside you

and second how hard he can make you cum now

those big fingers are magic on you

taemin gets all the closeups he ever needed from your camera because you hit the zoom even more

yukhei starts kissing you twice

not as carefully as he often would

it’s the really wet and passionate version this time

he films your lower faces as good as he can

those big fucking lips

they never fail to make you get the hots

they’re really made to do all this are they

his tongue nips into you with extra saliva on board

you suck it into your own mouth and mix it with yours, and gather some more

and slip your tongue above his in return

yukhei makes sure you can hear him swallowing all that warm runny spit and moans into your mouth

guess who just blew one big juicy load into the condom

and he’s not even inside of you

jesus christ yukhei

looks like french kissing is his orgasm button

you start sucking on his tongue when it slides back between your lips and you make them really tight and puckering

the noise is so delicious

yukhei shoots the rest of his semen into the condom

you go even harder on him, the kiss gets really deep

kai and baekhyun are literally jumping up and down on their beds by now

taemin and mark are sending star-eyed emojis

ten is definitely beating the meat next door

yukhei’s hand is massaging incessantly between your legs

he makes you feel. so. good.

when he retreats from the kiss you’re ready

you can hardly keep the phone stable in your palm

yukhei also points his camera back at your pussy again

and makes sure to catch every contraction

you know an orgasm is good when you’re going all “oh... ohh...”

even taeyong goes online to stream his reaction because you cum so beautifully

he’s actually crying and can’t close his mouth he can’t believe what he’s seeing

your pussy lips are so sloppy and stretched apart and twitching and you make sure the camera catches every bit

it takes almost half a minute until your muscles calm

you tell yukhei to clean it up with those plump lips of his

baekhyun and taemin are violently agreeing with thousands of “YESS EAT UP!!!” and “yes!! 😊♥︎🌹” text bubbles in the chat

your guys are so cute do you realize that

in order to have both hands free, lucas ends his video, puts his phone aside, and is already licking you up like a whole bowl of whipped cream

you keep on streaming on your own phone and brush the hair out of his face

the best part is catching yukhei’s tongue winding between your lips and then spoiling your pussy with big kisses very very slowly as not to overstimulate you

he’s such a fast learner he’s doing it really well

once you’re satisfied and cool off, you stroke the back of his neck and his favorite boyfriend duties are officially on pause

so he can go to pull off the condom and clean himself up, and get ready for bed after a quick mini snack

while you blow kisses into the camera, flirt with all your babes while they flirt back and even bow to you

and film your pussy all swollen and licked up but slowly closing a little bit again, ever so slightly

ten sends two little black hearts and a little “that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen thank you 😽”

you make sure taemin gets an extra close view of your clit and taeyong is making high-pitched squealing noises in his reaction video stream

mark goes like “yea that’s the spot!”

kai has joined baekhyun with the mouth and saliva action, they’re both licking their lips all over the place and make lewd lusty faces

they’re literally sucking and eyefucking your pussy through the camera bitch they want it so goddamn bad

oh to have their mouths on you right now to come down from your high and chill

you tell everyone how much you miss them and how badly you want them to be here

and how you want to feel all of them all over, on your skin and inside you

the chat is full of yearning and horny crying emojis now

yukhei helps you clean up the rest while you text how it felt with mark and baekhyun because they wanna know more

you talk about how yukhei’s girth is always rubbing that one spot inside and his breathing changes when it does

and you say you really loved their reactions

the members promise to be careful and discrete when they re-watch the stream and ten also says that if you don’t want it to stay in the chat some day you should never hesitate to delete it

you say no problem boys you should know me inside out, just remember to use head-phones when yukhei starts slurping at the 01:27 min mark

taeyong and mark are losing it at your puns

then you have a glass of water taller than yukhei’s dick and basically dance to the bathroom

lucas talks to the boys with his big ole smile in his pyjamas while you’re busy

oh god he is so shy

but very very blissed out. it really takes only two things to make this man happy. big plates, twitchy pussy.

a truly simple man. you like that

kai is definitely evolving from his teasing yukhei agenda in the meantime

he is sending thumbs up emojis instead of raised eyebrow ones

you lay down in xuxi’s big embrace and say goodnight to your boys

yukhei buries his nose in your hair, and kisses you on the forehead so innocently, taeyong melts in his little video square on screen

taemin is a big fan as well

he’s living true to his “explicit shit and romance” life motto isn’t he

you ask if everyone was enjoying themselves

big positive reactions all over the chat

you coo how you adore them all so much and want more of things like this where everyone is involved

eight people are going to bed very happy today

yukhei waves and baekhyun goes offline as well, as does taeyong who’s beaming

end stream

it was a masterpiece

that mark needs to recover from the very most, his entire bed is full of used tissues

and basically

over the next few hours the chat is losing their minds over and over again

everyone can’t stop gushing and telling you what their favorite part was

kai says how turned on you were was making him hard all night

ten enjoyed the wild kissing part and how wet everything was

naughty boy taemin keeps on talking about how — i quote — your insides are the best ever!! while sending flower emojis

your stream has unleashed a gigaton of sexual energy

and that basically goes on and on

until tuesday arrives

oof

today’s the day

you know that ten is up to something

except the little hearts and kiss comment

he hasn’t written much in the chat

oh shit oh shit what is he planning

he truly is a pisces

you know that some epic stuff is about to go down since the cats are with yangyang

and — what

there’s a large canvas in his room with a piece of cloth to cover it

lord have mercy

he’s bringing the big guns

ten will even hold a little speech on how he got inspiration two weeks ago

only to proceed to unveil the art very shyly

it’s an elaborate pencil drawing standing about as tall as him

immaculately sketched in a realistic way

have a guess what he’s been drawing

exactly right it’s an erotic depiction of you

laying on your back, thighs spread, head thrown back

and to make it mysterious you see more of the legs rather than the crotch area

so whatever or who is giving you pleasure is entirely up to you to imagine to your liking

it’s more about how the person he drew feels lust rather than the onlooker. he drew this for your own enjoyment

he did that very cleverly and classily

this canvas will be your utmost treasure and get such an intimate spot in your home

it doesn’t take very long until you’re mounting him and get those hips moving in a circle

ten is just full of surprises

you ask if you can photograph the drawing and upload it to the chat

ten is like ohhh!

but why not, now that he thinks about it. he secretly likes praise and visibility for his drawings so much

the post is definitely a success

lots of exclamation marks and reaction memes for three hours straight

but who would’ve thought otherwise

ten is just massively talented, always on point

and hits the right nerve with his line of work

as your pussy can attest

yukhei is gonna tease in the chat that he heard you in the dorm and that it sounded mega hot wink wink wink

ten writes:

| my tongue hurts

| let’s do it again next week

| i feel inspired to draw more as well

the chat explodes with hype for another two hours

multiple members come up with their own artistic takes on you

on wednesday kai presents a feral dance he choreographed for the whole morning. showing a representation of what you are to him and what he feels for you

very beautiful

on thursday baekhyun gifts you a deliberately humorous doodle titled mochi mama in the style of i dunno, probably picasso on crack

you have not seen anything like it

it’s gonna make you laugh in sad hours for many days to come

talk about come

baekhyun will have his hands busy in and on you all night

he wants to feel mama mochi and please you and make you smile

try not to climax challenge: failed several times

on friday mark blasts a song he wrote about you as soon as you put your hand bag down in the studio

100% of the lyrics are about how sexy and charming and special you are to him and how infatuated he is and how much he thinks about you all the time and how much you knock him off his feet, and how he has the biggest hots for you, jesus christ

that mark lee canada flow wants to make you fucking nut right then and there

the fandom just got his lit mixtape and he’s already working on another one i guess he sure has enough nsfw inspiration for it

all the more reasons to cum hard on his dick tonight

and make sweet love to that sexy body because mark lee isn’t the only one with the hots

then comes saturday

taeyong day

the tension is rising

you’re at his place

the sweet boo comes to put some chirping fledgelings into a towel on your lap as usual

there’s a big crispy lasagna baking in the oven, dripping with cheese and sauce with the most full-bodied herbal mix ever

damn tasty

gordon ramsay would rate this particularly well on twitter

honestly man

we all know gordon ramsey would like taeyong’s dishes

the evening passes as it always does

so he didn’t jump on the bandwagon that’s interesting

it’s almost as if the stream didn’t happen or anything

just as you expected

taeyong doing his own thing and being just very consistent makes him so sexy and desirable to you it’s hard to explain

you just like his style of going about things you know

he’s very receptive to your impulses

you figure it’s up to you to make some steps

so when he opens the fridge to pull out a self-made, perfectly swirly vanilla-chocolate vortex pudding that’s just at the right temperature, you can’t help but hit on him like the world is ending

but as you learned from taeyong’s example: your way

you ask him to open his mouth and maneuver spoon after spoon of pudding into it for him to deliciously savor it

giving him compliments on always making your day along with that

that bowl is empty very fast my loves

and taeyong very happy

oh yeah he was enjoying that

with his eyes closed

oh fuck

the sexual tension could rip the air in half like a mark verse

you decide to sit down on his lap all nonchalant and finish your own pudding... more than suggestively

taeyong is basically holding his breath at this point he’s a puddle

you tell him he can put his hands on your waist if he wants to

no answer needed his fingers are already on their way

you can hear how his heart is approaching a techno music BPM

at this point all you can do anymore is lean in to whisper if he likes to go to the bedroom with you

he can keep the apron on

taeyong tastes deliciously of pudding aye

you roll around in the sheets kissing so heavily

this is pure indulging you just feel how you’re sleeping with a chef

who happens to have the veiniest dick of all time

you’re definitely filled up well

sliding up and down on him deliciously for twenty minutes

really slowly and hugging each other tightly

and saying romantic things

that’s the good life

by the end of the evening the group chat gets a picture of taeyong’s world class lasagna

and a ‘very random’ shaky picture of your hand in his hair

which baekhyun instantly comments as:

“now tyong knows how great you taste as well 🤓😁🤗“

yukhei agrees wholeheartedly and ten starts making baby don’t stop puns

kai is totally in love with the quality food

baekhyun voices his interest in making more pictures of that kind with you. you know, hand in the hair, no big deal

kai says hurry up with it hyung, all the hair dye makes you balder every minute

baekhyun reprises his doodling and now draws a couple

it’s mama mochi with byun baldhyun

“this will be the next selca“

glorious

you’re having a damn good time

but later you feel something is going on

the whole week passes and taeyong seems to be brooding

next saturday he has a hard time expressing himself when he comes to your home

you ask if he’s not comfortable having more sex or if he struggles with the relationship setup

taeyong says it’s not that but can’t explain any further

you go on a whim and ask if it’s a confession he has on his mind

bingo

“taeyong... if you think i’ll judge you for something. remember we’re only doing this since a couple weeks. it’s hard to know how the person really reacts if you don’t know each other inside out“

he is still hesitant

you ask him if it’s something taboo

“yeah...”

you thought so. taeyong is the least basic person you know along with taemin

guess why these two are saved for last my dear readers

you tell him that how he’s in his own lane is what you appreciate him for in the first place, it’s why you’re here with him, you love your duckling chef so much

if he wants a different kind of sex that’s perfectly him

he looks relieved and understood hearing that

and confesses that yeah... he wants to go a little kinkier with you

now you know why taeyong was acting with so much restraint

and put all of his feelings and sensuality into food pretty much

in fact the kinky sex has already started whether you noticed or not

indirectly. as in, the dynamic

truth is he wants to be a service sub

oh yeah lemme introduce you to some new things

service subs like to really cater to their dominants and fulfill their every wish not just in bed, but around the house as well

and there’s even more to it as you will soon discover talking to him about it

an apron is only the start

in case you have been living under a rock

taeyong’s duality is nuts

he’s a completely shy mega pervert

it’s not a secret that this guy wants hardcore bdsm torture sex

you letting all that aggression loose on him for fucking sport

and being cold to him

with a bit of soft domme action as the perfect balance

yep

he wants you to take him out and take care of him at the same time

he’s perfectly aware he’s among the freakier and more deprived members

even ten is just casually freaky and just open for a lot of things. taeyong is deliberate

and pretty deep in the femdom community as far as his browser history is concerned

we all know assertive partners are his thing

but he’s afraid he’ll get you into something that’s a lot of responsibility

you say mister i’m familiar with your interests

my dear you never made them hard to guess

you tell him it’s no problem for you to give it to him raw

you’ll be doing disgusting things to him that sexy face will straight up drown

did you know?

our dear boy taeyong loves it when you spit in his mouth and do virgin roleplay

if he asks you to break him don’t be surprised

he wants to release control completely

he goes by all the rules

and i guarantee. when he comes along your dominatrix mood is gonna skyrocket he just brings that shit out in people

his mere naked body is just... how not to go nuts on him how he wants it

long story short tied up taeyong head to toe ends up immortalized as a vertical photograph

the group chat is overwhelming your notifs with wide-eyed emojis and all caps

amping up the game a little more each day are we

without even trying. hell, this just happened

where this is going is gonna be fun

sunday goes down with you grinding yourself all over taemin but you’re both clothed

you grab the back of his neck to lean in for kisses over and over and over

yes kisses are key

if not the favorite thing he does

let this sink in. if taemin overwhelms a little kitty with a hundred thousand smooches, just how kissy is this guy gonna be

and have fun teasing his erection through his pants

lee taemin a squirmy mess? hell yeah

in classic fashion he will spend the most time of the evening on his knees getting slapped around in several blindfolds, harnesses, and wrist ties

his fantasy finally came true

i repeat what taemin has been dreaming of is reality

thank god for taeyong having you second guess his private tastes. otherwise you would not be on your dom grind now

taemin even goes as far as ordering lingerie for your encounters — to wear himself because he’s taemin

satin and silk blouses he already has in his wardrobe so there’s no shortage

i don’t have to tell you that you can spend hours grinding on his cock in a room full of candles while taemin is in head-to-toe bondage

that’s his idea of a good time and hell you are really treated to perfect eye candy, taemin’s hotness will bring your pleasure to a new level

the group chat will definitely love your photography taken from your sessions

taemin is just an utter no-compromise kinda man to make kinky love with. everything is planned he’s never settling for less than a perfect evening

where both of you really experience the ultimate satisfaction from treating your bodies to the best of clothes and toys and scenarios

give me an amen for taemin being your sunday guy because this legend of a man is your personal church

and his discography is the bible

and cum play is the baptizing my friend

so yeah huh

every day you can look forward to. monday to sunday

and not a day goes by without someone in the chat reminiscing the steamy video you did with lucas

you end up repeating what you wished that day

for everyone to be with you

so you could feel all of them

and you say maybe it’s time to arrange something

you’ve gotten to know each of them personally and intimately by now

and integrated them into your personal life

hell when you wake up the first thing you see is ten’s drawing across your bed

or baekhyun’s funny mama mochi art on your phone background

and you start your day literally selecting from a pile of taeyong’s freshly washed and ironed clothing stacks in your wardrobe

sitting at your breakfast table with a bouquet of flowers that kai and jongin brought you

eating food you bought together with lucas

listening to music that mark made especially for you

they’re all in your life together so it’s the right time to make some heated love together

the chat is all down you don’t even have to ask any further

baekhyun volunteers to go about his leader duty to organize the best possible venue and best possible date

cause with superm things do go 100

he asks what kind of atmosphere you have in mind

you say hard and nasty and kinky

which will definitely make the chat interested

and baekhyun was about to rent a huge modern art penthouse in gangnam

you say no need to go that expensive. you just need a large bed, no paparazzi, and an area where you can be loud. sculptures you could care less about

you have yukhei on your team, so that’s a living sculpture already

it needs a safe haven essentially, with a dark and lusty atmosphere would be so nice

ten steps in saying he has the exact spot you’re looking for

he has a friend who runs a declining night club in the suburbs, with some pretty attractive and grungy backrooms with plenty of space to fuck

yeah a club is exactly what you’re looking for that’s a good idea

it’s closed on monday so baekhyun and ten arrange a rental just then

of course way in the evening

with the guarantee of nobody else around

baekhyun knows how this rigged game rolls he says they need the club to perform a dance practice, overnight stay, and shooting a music video

which is only a half-lie

not “hey we are super m planning an orgy wanna invite dispatch and tell lee soo man”

regardless ten’s friend is pretty chill and indifferent anyways

and baekhyun’s money is doing the talk

you’ll be guaranteed to be left by yourself

monday evening it is.

you already have a whole bunch of fantasies to let loose on your boys

and put it all in the chat

yo it’s called brainstorming and it sure has brain in it

you discuss

and it goes down next week

you encouraged the members to wear what they feel best in, no dress code, no comparison thinking. you want to meet them like you got to know them, each in their favorite expression

taeyong dons a mass onslaught of fetish gear underneath a trench coat, including a fancy collar, lots of hairspray

and latex gloves. shit he’s a freak

baekhyun puts on the coziest clothes he finds and his smol sneakers but they are secretly expensive, his hair is curly and big, he put on a nice scent

kai can’t help but go black suit and lace underneath, you know him

bleach blonde yukhei gets out the tight white tee and smug jeans

creative genius ten goes all out designing his own fashion (!) with paint, he puts on sexy af glasses and goes for his signature ‘cleavage down to the belly’ look underneath a bomber jacket

mark goes for a casual suit but make it swag, with a sleeveless top underneath, yeah those mark arms go crazy

taemin — picks his most dazzling silver outfit that looks like a rendition of mermaid scales, pointed shoes, princely hair, famous i’m so fabulous

and it’s already starting out sexy in the car before you even arrive

because this is all gonna be glorious from the first second to the last

baekhyun and kai will do the driving

you have not one but two classy and sexy chauffeurs you hear me

yeah in their shiny black german cars with those sleek comfortable seats

baekhyun, taeyong, ten and lucas are a team

and then you get kai, mark, and taemin, including your group luggage because such a trip needs a lot of things to pack trust me

you’re with team kai on the way to the club and with team baekhyun the way back

it’s already lit and steamy on your way there

nothing better than getting in the mood held by the greek god arms of none other than lee taemin with mark lee assisting

you’re entirely wrapped up in kissing taemin so passionately, his tongue melts into your mouth like the finest chocolate

thinking about how you were making out last week gets you going even more

as does feeling up his bulge, ugh taemin is so sensual

mark sitting on your other side being eager to attend to your thighs, your waist, your back, your hands, your hair, your stomach

yep

yukhei has been telling him about the wonders of a whole-body massage since you like it so much

mark gets his hands all over you to provide a sexy caress and wow he’s doing it well, giving everything the perfect kind of attention, always asking if you want more of this or more of that

mark loves everything about you and he knows how to make your anticipation become even more intense by dedicating time to all areas generously

you feel like he’s worshipping you head to toe

it’s the way to get turned on

mark has great soft hands and knows your best spots by now

that’s exactly why it was a good idea to sleep with the members individually at first

you could figure it all out in detail and each member could show their style of doing things, and you could teach them

mark has become an expert in skinship

while he’s kissing into your neck whispering revering things to you nobody else would understand

they’re intimate, spicy details from your studio lessons

with a romantic twist even because mark is giving you his entire arsenal, the entire palette

“i’ve been thinking about you so often...”

with jongin driving carefully and taking the lesser frequented roads

kai is really keeping it together

the maknae backseat party is faithfully photographed by mark who sends it to the other team after taemin and you select the best shots, giggling

your favorite is a bird’s view of your cleavage with taemin kissing right between your breasts, slightly below the sternum

his hair is softly splayed over the area

taeyong and ten reply with heart eyes in the chat

on you go kissing and touching

taemin is so gentle with you and easily accepts your wild licks and bites, leans his head back so you have perfect access to his neck

by the time you arrive at the club’s back entrance, he’s marked up and his lips are mighty used

ruined neck, ruined mouth

taemin’s favorite two accessories to walk into a club with

including a hard-on

with mark and kai strutting right after, chewing mints

...both getting hard themselves because mark loves your body and jongin has very good ears when it comes to picking up things that happen in the back of his car

and this bitch got a raging libido, so

the best part is everything is prepared

the other team already parked their car there earlier

ten had the keys to every needed lock, showed everyone around, and then baekhyun went into organization overdrive

this is the first time he didn’t clown around to distract from work since debut

if baekhyun ever means serious business... wow

your best boy taeyong has located the perfect backroom that’s shaded inside and neon-lit from the outside

the window’s aren’t particularly low-sitting so that’s a privacy plus

there’s a huge white extra oversized bed with some more great furniture and a sofa landscape

he desinfected everything to a T

and pulled out every utensil you might need from a large black bag

he walked in like he just commited a bank robbery but in reality there’s cutesy pink rope in the bag

oh well

classic taeyong

yukhei sorted and handed out the condoms plus water bottles for everyone

he’s the expert for the basics don’t come at him he’s doing a great job

after you reminding everyone of the safeword

taemin sits down with you on the bed and you keep kissing

keeping up the flow right there

you beckon your lil’ adorable mochi who’s been dying for skinship

baekhyun is so turned on he wastes no time joining

still fully clothed while the other members are about to undress

you actually like baekhyun huddling up against you in his oversized hoodie it’s cute

so hey, change in plans

everyone ditches the protocol and climbs on the bed only without their shoes

lot of ties and belts to pull them closer to you

you bring all of them together on the bed now

the feeling of having everyone around you is so electrifying, you have to distance from taemin’s seductive lips not to get some kind of adrenaline overdose

jesus this guy is trying to soak your pants like baekhyun forgot to turn off the shower

you get to enjoy five minutes of relaxed massaging from all sides to cool everything down a little

baekhyun and yukhei alternate with kissing you

yum

big plush lips plus a horny tongue

that’s a good combination

kai is definitely setting the pace of how to massage you, and how to move the body while doing so, and what expressions to make

instead of sitting there awkwardly staring into space

remember? master of courting — that’s kim jongin

even baekhyun follows his example a bit

you’re entering cloud 9 from that whole-body massage

you can tell they’re all dancers. there’s rhythm involved

having the seven of them attend to you at the same time just hits different

that are 14 hands

70 fingers

all in sync with kai’s physical ideas, carefully yet purposefully kneading and stroking

kai also helps everyone find a good area and makes sure everyone stays away from any precarious or sexy zones

because you’d probably get off from that in the matter of a blink

to be honest you’re already feeling heated you can’t help it

but that’s a good sign you’re definitely feeling this

and there’s not a single limp dick in this room at this point already

baekhyun being the best people reader all over again manages a seamless transition to some water drinking

so everyone is ready to go

you wish you could do everything at once but decide to get a load of some slow body rolls against you because hell yeah

courting expert kai is sure to oblige, dance god taemin joins right in, and ten completes the holy trinity and hell does he go off

photographer mark on duty again. this moment has to be captured

baekhyun does his mood management magic and encourages ten and taemin to let out their little sounds more

kai he doesn’t have to tell

nor you because you’re already moaning

shit these guys are just too good

these bodies are machines

again bless your xuxi workout sessions

you wouldn’t keep up otherwise

you curse them because your pussy feels creamy way too early

switching to grinding on their bulges is not a better idea because it’s making you even hornier but anyway it’s your favorite activity

yukhei takes time and some effort to get fully hard so that’s a grateful job now

because you can gather yourself

you resort to using your cleavage to stop turning yourself on completely

and then your hands to palm his pants because that’s even more inconspicuous

group sex with superm? hardest early orgasm avoidance challenge EVER

is there some kind of legally accessible viagra for women

there’s no way you could turn yourself off help

you either get the first orgasm out of the way or keep it together to have some suspense in here and see the boys work hard

the decision is clear

time to bring out the toys that taeyong assembled on a table

baekhyun, taemin taeyong and ten are in the down to get tied up in various ways

lucas and kai get blindfolded and get a sexy task from you

slowly humping the mattress just for your viewing pleasure

topless for that matter

no need to ask twice there they go

photographer mark stays free and flexible. it’s always good to have someone outside bondage just in case with such a big group

anyway so you will be busy for sure

the rest of the boys strip down to only their briefs and get a good dose of spanking

ten is definitely moaning the loudest there

taeyong ends up with tied wrists in a prayer position and has his fun getting slapped around by you

until he’s breathless and smiling to himself with his tongue hanging out

someone got his daily meal of smacking

taemin highly approves

nobody’s surprised

baekhyun gets a quick and simple upper body rope harness that’s very easy to grip him by

and just to tease him you add some nipple pinches

result: loud baekhyun noises

cute as hell

so that’s how he’s been training himself to reach all those high notes

interesting

taemin, completely naked, has his hands and ankles tied, looking so beautiful all helpless and his cock itching for stimulation

and because taemin’s strange ‘artistic’ kidnapping fantasies that he never stops talking about cannot be ignored he gets a mouth gag for good measure

you know you just roll with their ideas

he’s a simple man that’s all he needs

you decide to put a bigger bondage piece on ten who ends up in a hogtie aka his new favorite place to be in

if there’s one guy who’s flexible like that it’s him

let’s see for how long he can take it

ten likes a challenge

you tell mark exactly what kind of pictures you want of your tied darlings and he’s well-engaged with that task

baekhyun is clinging to you a lot in the meantime

he gets kisses on the mouth

and your open ear

because you can tell there’s something on his mind

or rather

his ass is telling him something after you activated it with spanks huh

what does baekhyun want?

baekhyun wants the strap

and the strap he shall get

his time has come

this time the safeword won’t do so tapping yukhei’s thigh is the deal

taeyong’s kinky tool collection has a nice and thick equipment to offer, jet black black straps, jet black dildo, like it’s some kind of secret agent gear

it takes a lot of lube to get it into baekhyun’s tight and tiny ass but what’s new

he’s not the gaping expert

and way too busy laughing at the members’ reaction faces so his damn asshole is contracting god dammit

what a brat

next time he gets a toy for prep

only when you grab him by the harness and get into a rhythm, baekhyun throws it back

good boy

kai and xuxi are allowed to take off their blindfolds now because you have a task for them

taeyong’s toy collection features one extra long double-ended dildo, transparent and neither too slim nor too wide

if baekhyun doesn’t have that thing inside his throat i don’t know who

this shit is made for him

and you can tell he’s salivating for that

you tell yukhei to use those big hands to keep baekhyun’s head steady

and oh wonder, his long fingers enclose it perfectly

kai gets to go hard on baekhyun and fulfill his lifetime fantasy that he has had for over a decade now and jerks off to every night:

baekhyun not talking

so while baekhyun’s ass is getting properly stuffed

so is his mouth

kai has no qualms squeezing the toy into baekhyun’s throat a little more roughly

those are some pretty intense choking noises

mark steadily hits the snapshot button

some people go to pound town

baekhyun goes to silicon valley

kai is not afraid to push that thing as far as it can physically go

you’re pleased with how he’s doing it

and with baekhyun’s blowjob abilities anyway

is there a better throat in this industry? probably not

he’s pretty surprised himself with how much he can take it

that poor ass is getting more than it can handle in the meantime, baekhyun is throbbing and whining

little did you know his prostate is so sensitive and makes his dick leak

such a shame you fully exploit that

you tell yukhei to have baekhyun move his head on his own to get into the rhythm

and get taeyong over to suck on the other end of the toy because oh yeah

let me just say these two are amazing

god bless sm entertainment

not for any executive decisions

but for their uncanny ability to attract and assemble all the subs

lee taeyong giving head like the rent is due is a sight you need in your life

like everything, he does it roughly and properly

baekhyun is barely even sucking anymore just straight up gagging and seeing stars

because uh-oh here comes a big fat prostate orgasm

mark is clever enough to hit record on his phone

and capture a shaking baekhyun travelling through a whole bunch of universes, at least in his mind

because that’s how strong his climax is

all he can say is thank you mama mochi and recover from this on his back

kai is satisfied with the result as well because baekhyun managed to not say anything for fifteen minutes

kai never had this much silence in his life

taeyong is still not done sucking the toy off and you let him

never step between a man and his favorite dildo

lucas takes up the task of untying ten who wants to share the other end that’s free now

and mark hands over the camera to kai who films just that

which also means mark is in the mood for you

about time to get some dick

and have taemin watch right next to you

being able to delight in mark’s wonderful technique

doggystyle

which ends up in kai joining

which causes yukhei to join

and baekhyun to film

the three are literally queueing while waiting for their turn

you tell them when to pull out and let the other member have you

until mark is riddled with so much suspension, the fifth thrust on his turn ends up in an unexpected hard climax

“oh my god oh my god!“

obviously kai will let loose now and cum as well, accompanied by really breathy groans

yukhei takes his time to make you moan which gives both taeyong and taemin a good show and an untouched orgasm

eventually you get to hear lucas growling his soul out

and kai bickering to pull out already

because it’s time for buffet

after getting rid of his condom, mark has been untying the very resilient ten who’s been in prawn bondage for like half an hour and five minutes now

respect

he and baekhyun team up to eat you out

yeah prepare for a dream team

while mark and kai chill on the other side of the bed

lucas on the other hand still doesn’t have enough and ends up licking your legs with his cock firmly palmed in those big hands

baekhyun and ten are doing the most meanwhile, lapping you up all sloppy

the job of the cameraman goes to a wild taemin who’s undone his safety hook

he can’t stand this shit anymore he has to join the action instead of lying around in ropes

jeez the guy has the fun of his life playing with filters

silently giggling to himself

until kai finds out that taemin has been putting cat ears on ten and cowboy hats on lucas

kai confiscates the phone from naughty taem and decides to take up that task himself

so taemin can eat you out himself now

alright there are three heads bumping each other between your legs now

and yukhei close-by, currently nibbling at your outer thighs

can you imagine how crowded and crammed that is

you tell mark to get taeyong out of his ties as well

if you’re gonna cum he has to join the party as well

and he will not hesitate my friend

taeyong’s kinky tongue (which can make all kinds of completely unprecedented moves and slurping noises) riles up the other three to put all their effort into this

you order baekhyun and ten to line you left and right of your hips, fingering you from there

and let both taeyong and taemin get you to the point with their tongues at the same time

it’s a busy day innit

the reason is that baekhyun and ten didn’t come but you plan to change that with some dual handjob

baekhyun lets out some pretty hoarse panting noises

(yeah jongin destroyed him with that toy in his mouth for real)

once your hands grip onto their erections, almost automatically baekhyun’s fingers start going crazy on your clit and ten goes mad with his thumb right next to it

yeah he’s kept his rings on this is gonna be a sexy sight

mark and kai retire from their pillows to join at your request

mark kissing you, jongin sucking on your breasts

from this point on things are pretty much just a daze

two tongues two hands? oh shit

four people are trying to make you cum what did you expect

and three other people are licking you all over

yukhei doesn’t even care at this point he’s just straight up kissing your feet

ten is silently groaning it out, he’s pouring his seed into the condom with little twitches in the hip and shoulders

taeyong’s tongue is gonna finish you off, taemin’s lips will make you feel so good, your legs will be a shaking mess in yukhei’s hands

how to even describe this

it’s an explosion of heat and contractions

you’re going fucking crazy from all that head and tongue action god damn

mark definitely has to swallow a lot of your moans all over the place

and taeyong

also swallows

what a god-loving man

your pussy is leaking enough to feed baekhyun as well

who still strokes himself off while he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, oh boy he really developed a lot of stamina

you have your fun telling him to stop jerking himself off

so his orgasm ends up being ruined

those always mess him up

always a nice sight to have him shaking and whining and gasping

you have to roll over at some point before getting overstimulated

phew that takes quite a couple of deliberate breaths

now you have seven hot guys with sopping wet mouths on your hands, looking at you exhausted and infatuated

that’s super m for you

yukhei, man for the basics he is, hands out towels

you really gotta say he’s kept a clear head in all of this except maybe the sudden foot fetish reveal

of course taeyong towels himself down the most he’s basically covered himself with anything he could get his hands on

that face is dripping like his saturday evening lasagnas

you help clean mark who kinda lost his mind and heart while kissing you, he needs your care a little more now

baekhyun soon snaps back into organization mode and has the brilliant idea to unpack xuxi’s and jongin’s luggage

to have everyone wearing their gigantic hoodies and sweaters

it’s warm in the room anyway but this feels so much cozier

after going to the bathroom

a ball of cuddly guys is snuggled up all aroud you faster than you can think

mark and taeyong are already sleeping they really knocked themselves out

champs

kai finds the completely forgotten phone somewhere in the sheets and turns off what seems to be a 50 minutes video

that’s gonna be fun to watch some time

baekhyun nuzzles himself to sleep against your sweater, right between your breasts

“mochi mama thank...” are his last words before he drifts off to pineapple pizza land or whatever dreamscape is in his head

probably something much dirtier but anyway

lucas and kai steal kisses from you and go off to sort out the room

jesus christ they still have the energy

taeyong’s nasty lil’ toy collection gets cleaned and reassembled, the ropes get coiled up, the towels wander into a washing machine in the other room

whose steady bumping lulls the rest of you to sleep

while taemin, epitome of taste he is, plays his best of hits on low volume with his phone

dozing off between seven guys while “heaven” is playing?

best thing ever

the rest is history. you’re surrounded by sleepy cuddly sweater men

you actually sleep for a couple hours

dawntime you wake up cozied and sandwiched between yukhei’s tiddies and jongin’s back

which is the most protected, snug place on earth

even a nuclear superweapon couldn’t explode past that spot

they’re fast asleep

giant baby and teddy bear

safeguarding you in unison

ain’t they adorable

baekhyun is awake silently doing pilates, smiling cutely at you when he sees you’re awake, and he gets a big load of kisses i’m telling you

miraculously everything is tidy and smells fresh, and there’s a light soup in the air...

... lee taeyong got up at 6:30.

he was a whirlwind

the group gets to enjoy a 3-course classic korean breakfast

because taeyong found the club kitchen

what kind of godly entity is this man

how did he do all of this

the club is the cleanest it’s ever been

taking care of 24 people is probably so difficult, this is actually easy to him

you depart in a good mood because damn that soup was restaurant quality and baekhyun had the idea to give you morning head to which everyone joined in

good thing the club has showers

baekhyun is still horny as hell and you want that D(elight) any time of the day

so you fuck for a bunch of minutes in his car after dropping off the team and they giving you playful winks

you park the car behind xiumin’s house because that’s the most calm place to be

people are sleeping on xiumnin so hard, no paparazzi are around, ever

baekhyun settles there with you smiling

he didn’t sing “get you alone” with no reason

baekhyun needs that one-on-one time with you to ground himself and love you all over again big time

plus you are dying to cum bouncing on him on the driver’s seat

while he is desperately gripping the steering wheel to have something solid to hold onto

yeah baekhyun is always ready to lose it for ya

it’s literally such a good spot to fuck

he’s strapped in all underneath you and you can see him squirm and get heart eyes from up close

you also love how your thighs meet the fabric of his pants

baekhyun’s tiny lap is already worth a huge nut you love grinding on him

those shapely thighs

with his cock peaking out from underneath his sweater

what his morning head tongue can do, his dick can do twice with ease so time for round two today

glad you have your bag with some utensils

you’re generous with lube on the condom

in fact you love spilling it over his pants a little

it looks like you’ve been squirting on him that’s why

baekhyun is down for your pervy imaginations

and gets even harder

not bad lil’ guy

time to make him moan with the grip of your walls

mochi breathes pretty hard because damn... more dick destruction

you love burying your hands in his sweater at the shoulders and just fucking ride

his hair gets messy, his bedroom gaze is so intense

his ass still hurts from yesterday but it seems to turn him own judging by the high-pitched groans and his begs for you to bounce on him harder

no problem his dick is just made to be ridden

if this wasn’t a high-tech car from the future with carbon and whatnot anybody could hear baekhyun’s um ‘vocals’ from the outside

this is so much fun oh my god

baekhyun releases with his eyes shut and teeth pressed together, his nose is all scrunched up

jesus this one got to him

he drives you to his home with his fingers shaking a little on the steering wheel

literally tapping like they do in his microphone on stage

yep this shook him up

and insatiable byun is now satisfied byun

nothing better than knowing you ruined your cupcake boyfriend in the best of ways

back at his apartment and after some extra carbo hydrate heavy food, as a pre-nap treat you grind on his thighs and his ass because why not

and gyrate him to sleep with his arms and legs stretched in all directions

both of you are still in disbelief that all of this happened

legend has it you’re dreaming of more group sex ideas that night

the next day taemin sends the champagne video to celebrate your first time together

which brings us back to the start

and that’s how it all happened

now you know

congrats on being a lucky girl

related: super m as subs

FINAL NOTE. ah shit i love this dynamic, thank you for reading 🎊

671 notes · View notes

joshslater · 4 years ago

Text

Matt and Liam

This is a rewrite of scallylads89's untitled story that I had sitting forgotten in a folder for two years. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

It was Thursday again already and Matt had been dreading this afternoon all day. It wasn't the best sixth form college, but he was more than happy to finish his diploma in IT there. He'd always been into computers and programming, and his parents had always encouraged it. The problem was the way the college ran its classes. Despite running completely separate courses and qualifications, they ran a set of mandatory mixed classes throughout the week. All students had their normal lessons in their program specific classes, but subjects like art, PE, and social studies were taught in cross qualification classes, practically making you have two different sets of classmates. It was supposed to promote integration and team building among the students.

In theory Matt didn't mind. He could see the value of it, and even enjoyed some of the classmates in his mixed classes. In practice though there was Liam. Liam studied for his builder qualification and came from a different background to Matt, and spent most of his childhood running free on the estate away from his mum who was usually sat in front of the TV or down the local with her mates drinking. He was lacking respect for others and didn't mind punching up, but positively relished punching down or sideways with Matt as a frequent target of his bullying. PE had never been a strong subject for Matt, so he knew that every Thursday Liam would be there taking the piss out of him and embarrassing him in front of all of the other students. Students that came from all over various classes at the college.

They hadn’t long kicked off the game when out of nowhere Matt felt a jolt in his back and a stomp on his foot as he flew forward onto the ground being shoved by Liam. Liam smirked chuckling to himself. He had timed it just right, the tutor was looking the other way and hadn’t seen a thing. The thud of Matt's face planting the pitch immediately drew the attention of the tutor. Liam wasn’t in the least bit worried. He knew Matt was too chicken to dob him in. The tutor asked Matt if he was ok, and Matt a bit shaken stuttered “Yes sir, I’m ok I just tripped and I think I’ve done my ankle.” The tutor quickly inspected Matt’s ankle and suggested he go back to the changing rooms and sit this week out. Despite his thankfully only minor injury and the way Liam had treated him he was actually kind of pleased, at least it meant he got to skip PE this week. The pain was almost worth it.

He sat down in the changing room and took a deep breath as he slowly pulled his shoe off, his ankle was a little swollen. He continued to get undressed taking his kit off and folding everything up neatly when out of the corner of his eye he saw the pile of clothes on the opposite bench loosely laid out. It was Liam’s tracksuit. He didn’t know why but he really had the urge to try them on. Matt was about as far from a chav as you could think but he kind of liked the style of Liam’s clothes. He justified the idea to himself as if it would be a big fuck you to Liam knowing he had dressed up in his clothes and pretended to be a dick like him and Liam would have no idea. Besides there were ages yet before anyone would be coming back to get changed. Matt began dressing himself in Liam’s clothes.

To Matt’s surprise Liam’s boxer briefs were also in the pile of clothes, that must mean he was commando in his football shorts out there! The thought actually turned Matt on a little. He wasn’t gay but he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Matt thought to himself that if he was going to dress up as Liam he may as well do it properly. As he picked up Liam's boxers he froze. He could feel his heart racing. Off in the distance he could hear the rest of the class cheering a goal or something. According to the wall clock he still had plenty of time. It was now or never.

He slipped on Liam’s boxers and joggers, and felt a bit of a rush as he looked down on the somewhat baggy clothes on his frame. The socks were a bit discolored from the inside of the sneakers, by having been worn a bit too long between washes. He put them on and then slipped his feet into Liam’s 95’s. They were a little big for him. Liam was a size 11 and Matt only a size 8. Slopping around in Liam’s trainers, Matt hastily pulled the T-shirt over his head, putting on the hoody and zipping it up. Wafts of stale cigarette smoke and Lynx body spray came off the clothes. He was as excited as he was nervous.

He finished the look by taking off his glasses and putting on Liam’s cap, tucking his hair into it to make it look short like Liam’s. Matt could see the growing bulge beginning to poke through Liam’s joggers. Either it was the fear of being caught or his growing attraction to Liam he was finding it harder and harder to ignore how turned on he had begun to feel.

Matt paraded around the changing room pretending to be Liam, walking around with an over exaggerated swag in his step and a cocky stance of self importance. Matt’s boner was really starting to become a pain. He lowered his hand to his crotch to try and adjust himself from outside Liam’s joggers, grabbing a handful of his package. To Matt’s horror he hadn’t realized how close to the edge he was. All it took was just the extra bit of movement for him to lose control and pass the point of no return “SHIT SHIT SHIT!” Matt blew a huge load into Liam’s boxers! Fuck! How the hell was he going to get away with this? Liam was going to notice this! And it couldn’t be anyone else! He sat back down on the bench in a panic, lifting his foot he tried to slip off one of Liam’s trainers. Something wasn’t quite right, they didn’t fit this snug before! Surely they hadn’t shrunk, and both his feet couldn’t have swollen up that much so quickly for no reason. He slipped his foot back in and paused for a moment aware that everything seemed clearer, he felt his face in disbelief checking if he had forgotten to put his glasses back on, but there was nothing there.

Matt stood back up and walked over to the mirror. He couldn’t help but notice the way he involuntarily walked with a similar stride to that he had before whilst mimicking Liam. Matt gasped at his reflection, the strands of hair that he had tucked up into Liam’s cap had gone, rubbing the side of his head with the tips of his fingers the sides of his head were shaved to almost nothing. Taking his cap off Matt revealed the exact same haircut Liam had, shaved back and sides with a short trim on top combed forward to a short straight cut fringe. As Matt continued to examine his hair his attention was drawn to his face, his jawline was narrowing, his facial features growing sharper like Liam’s, Matt’s nose also narrowed to the same shape as Liam’s. Matt in his disbelief looking at himself in the mirror said to himself “holy shit! What the hell is happening to me?” This only made things more confusing as he uttered the words in Liam’s voice and accent. The final physical changes taking place as his arms, legs, and torso stretched making him as tall as Liam.

Liam had continued playing football with the lads while Matt had been gone, something wasn’t right though, he just couldn’t seem to get into the game. Liam was making all sorts of mistakes and getting a bit of stick for it too. To make matters worse he had started to get an awkward boner, he usually liked to go commando in his kit but this suddenly felt like a bad idea. It was getting harder to conceal his erection which only further distracted him from the game, then without warning he blew his load into his shorts! Liam suddenly thought to himself “shit! I have to get out of here before it shows and starts dribbling down his leg!”. He was so embarrassed which was unlike him. Liam made an excuse that he was desperate for the toilet, so he could go clean himself up in the changing rooms.

On his way back Liam was oblivious to the changes he was going through. He had lost the swagger in his walk, his slim, toned body was softening as were his facial features, he was beginning to look more and more like Matt with every step. Liam’s hair had grown so much he had to sweep his fringe across his face. Approaching the changing rooms Liam was finding it harder to focus on his surroundings, his eyesight was so bad. Liam looked up at the door frame as he walked into the changing rooms, he was sure it wasn’t that tall before.

Once inside the changing room door the transformation was so far along that Liam started to have trouble walking in the now slightly too large shoes and loose clothes. If it hadn't been for that he would have spotted Matt right away, instead of stumbling upon him mere steps away. Matt too had been too absorbed in his own changes to notice Liam, so it was a surprise to both of them when they saw each other.

Matt looked at Liam, now looking like Matt, in amazement. They hadn't switched bodies in the consciousness transfer way, but rather both of their bodies had independently transformed into each other. He tried to look for small imperfections he knew all too well, and found them. He kept racking up question after question. How? Why? What now?

Liam had no such subtle thoughts. "You fucking, thieving body snatcher! Give it back!", he shouted and hit Matt hard in the guts. Matt took a step back and tried to shield himself. "Mate, this isn't proper innit. Yous gotsa stop." But Liam kept attacking. Matt, realizing that he was now the larger and stronger of the two grabbed hold of Liam. Liam, much more street-wise, kicked out Matt's legs from under him, so he went down on his back with a thud. "Have it fucking your way!" Liam shouted and threw his kit shirt in Matt's face.

In a few swift motions Liam was out the rest of his ill-fitting football kit, grabbed Matt's backpack and bundle of clothes, and rushed out of the changing room naked with Matt's stuff in his arms. "If you come anywhere near your old house I'll call the police and hit you with an ASBO so hard you'll pick trash for a year," he shouted as he exited.

Matt sat on the floor, still confused about exactly what had happened. All his belongings were gone and he was wearing Liams clothes. And body. He got up and collected Liam's kit from the floor. When he got to the shorts he saw that Liam too had shot a load. He stuffed all of the clothes into Liam's bag and left.

Where to though? Liam had made it clear that he shouldn't go home. Matt had no idea how ASBOs actually worked. He'd never even spoken to a police officer, but he was pretty sure that Liam knew what to say to make problems for him. Did Liam's body have any records? He didn't know, but Liam did. Fuck. He would have to go to Liam's home, wherever the fuck that was.

He searched his pockets. Some coins and a key with "E" stamped on it. Not very helpful. He made a guess that someone like Liam would live at a council estate, and King's Gardens was the closest, though not really that close. He immediately felt bad for making such a conclusion based on stereotypes, but it was all he got.

Matt looked at the route map at the bus stop and took the next bus towards King's Garden. Why does such shitty complex always have nice names? As he sat down on the bus and watched the neighborhoods getting worse it suddenly hit him what a fucking crazy awful day it was. He saw his own reflection superimposed over the brick buildings outside the window. What if he stayed like this? How could he prove to his parents he was he? He couldn't even speak properly anymore.

The smell was coming from him, he realized and snapped out of thoughts. Mingled in smell of Lynx, sweat, and smoke was the unmistakable aroma of his hour-old cum drying in his underwear. That he sat so wide with his legs probably didn't help. He really needed to smoke a fag. He'd never smoked anything before in his life. Is his stop soon? His mind was wandering. That in itself annoyed him too.

The bus stopped very close to the estate, and helpfully there was a map of the complex. Buildings numbered 1 through 15, but also the six tall, ugly buildings named A through F. Perhaps he had some luck today. Was his surname Calder? If so he lived on floor 6.

The key did fit in the door of Cindy Calder. Matt stared in disbelief when he opened the door. His mother was upset if he didn't vacuum the floor once a week. Here he could hardly see the floor. Newspapers, ads, shoes, a bike wheel, and other crap cluttered the entrance.

"Orite!" No answer. From the small hallway one door led into an even messier living room with a big sofa in front of the TV, and a bed by the window. Straight ahead was a small bathroom. On the other side of the hallway was a small kitchen, and the room he assumed was his. There was a desk, a bed, a cheap workout bench, and a mess of clothes and bicycle parts strewn all over the room. A laptop was lying in the messy bed, charging.

He put down the bag and picked up a dumbbell. Never before had Matt even touched one, but now holding one in his hand, moving it up and down comes naturally. Liam's body of course would have done this hundreds of times, so Matt wasn't surprised he could do it more or less with muscle memory.

He had barely done a few curls when someone knocked on the door. It was a black man, a few years older than him, with long rasta hair, and matching track top and joggers. "Oi. Got you text. I can take it right now." Having no idea what this was about Matt stepped aside and answered "Ok". The black man entered and walked into Liam's room as if he has been there many times, and quickly returned with the laptop. "Two days tops. Cash or products, your choice. See you bruv" and walked out.

Wait. Did he just sell his laptop? Or rather did Liam just sell his laptop? Matt realized that he didn't have either of their cell phones, not that having Liam's cell phone without the PIN would do him any good. Was Liam messing with him? Why would he do that? Matt walked back into the kitchen and sat down at the table, lit a cigarette from the packet on the table, and let his eyes wander in the room. It was in need of a good scrubbing. There were grey marks around all knobs and handles. Matt decided he needed to know more about Liam, and then it became clear to him. Without a phone or a computer he was useless. There was nothing he could do besides digging through the trash in the apartment, or leave and randomly talk to people. The latter was a horrible concept to him. He lacked both confidence and social skills to strike up conversations with strangers, or people that were strangers to him at least.

The black man had talked about getting products as payment. Did he mean drugs? Did that meant Liam had a stash somewhere in the apartment. Matt decided to hunt for it. Perhaps he could use it to blackmail Matt into meeting and sorting this out. Liam's room was such a mess you had to shift things around, move things from one pile to the next. Bicycle parts, dirty clothes, old comics, machine parts, clothes with anti-theft tags still on, an overall, empty cans. After almost an hour of work he had just uncovered Liam's stack of porn magazines.

Then it hit him that of course Liam would hide any drugs in a different room for some sort of deniability. He was just about to search the bathroom when another thought crept up on him. If he did find any drugs he was in no position to use it against Liam while he was in his body. At best he could get rid of them to prevent Liam from blackmailing him! He would have to know about something about himself to use it against Liam, but there really wasn't any.

Matt had a chilling though. If Liam and he had swapped bodies, did that mean that he is now as stupid as Liam was? Was Liam stupid to begin with? Matt didn't feel stupid, but all decisions he had made so far had all been pretty bad. Or had they? Fuck! He threw himself at the bed and glanced at the bag on the floor.

This all started when he cummed while wearing Liam's clothes. Perhaps he could do something like that again and set everything straight. He slowly removed all his clothes and dropped them in a pile on the floor. Then he unzipped the bag. There in a big, moist, wrinkled bundle is the football kit. He shook it all out on the floor. Damp football jersey, cum-sticky shorts, knee-socks, and boots.

He stepped into the sorts and pulled them up. The damp cloth feet cold against him. Then the socks and the football boots, also cold. All he could smell was lingering cigarette smoke, but he imagined this would smell at least as much as when he got dressed in Liam's street clothes in the changing room. After having tied both boots he was surprised to notice his hard on had come back. Surprised but pleased. He put on the jersey and went to the bathroom to have a look.

He was taken aback as he looked in the mirror. For some reason he hadn't really expected to see Liam looking back. He knew that was what he was going to see, but it was still jarring to see it. He did a bit of acting, trying different faces. It just turned him on more. With nothing under the shorts there was plenty tenting.

He went back to his bed and lied down on it, grabbed his dick through the glossy shorts fabric, and begun to slowly jack off. It felt amazingly good, and in his mind he struggled with both feeling incredibly sexy as Liam, but also hated almost everything about his life. As he exploded with a second load of cum in the shorts he felt a sharp pain in his head and yelped out loud.

The drug stash was in the boots just inside the door. His mother wasn't coming home until nine, probably. Darell picked up his laptop. Suddenly he remembered everything about Liam's life. As the pain subsided he slowly came to realize he couldn't remember anything of his own life. He could remember both trying out Liam's clothes and running in from the field at the same time, somehow, but nothing prior to that.

As Matt showed up for metal shop class the next morning Mr. Fox told him to go to the headmaster's office. He was quickly shown into the headmaster himself, someone he had never met before, at least not as Liam. "I've been informed of yesterday's incident. I'm always willing to give people a second chance if they are willing to take responsibility for their actions. Are you willing to do that, Liam?"

"Sound, mate."

"I've only heard the other side. You assaulted Matt on the soccer field during yesterday's practice, then went after him again in the changing room so he had to flee without any clothes on him. Is that what happened?"

"Mate, I didn't..."

"I'm gonna stop you there before you make a mistake. Matt has graciously asked for no punishment as long as you two are separated from now on. So I'll ask again, is that what happened."

"Yes. Whatev."

146 notes · View notes

poptod · 3 years ago

Text

The Breeding Kings, pt. 20

Description:

Notes: WC: 7.4k

It wasn't long at all until he realized something was different––not specifically in you, or in his environment, but within his thoughts. Things had shifted, and the constant anxieties of where food and water was coming from next were turned to empty slots in his mind, slots you happily filled.

Against his will, he could think of little else besides you. He tried many things as well––staying away from you, keeping close to you, but he had yet to touch you in any way that really mattered. Fluttering glances and barely-there graces didn't count, nor did misplaced kisses on saner, safer areas. No, his dreams offered him no break from the annoyingly insistent thoughts, and instead supplied him with the endless imagination of an unchecked mind. Drowning in the image of your closed eyes slotted next to his in soft kisses, of your fingertips trailing across his bare waist.

But you would never do that.

He stared longingly at you through the gate he guarded, leaning on his wooden and bronze spear as you dug in the garden. Zakiti, your work partner, was travelling back and forth between where new trees had been dropped off, and where you were told to plant them.

In fact, he was so absorbed in your moving lips that he barely heard his own partner talking to him from across the gate.

"What are you, in love with Zakiti?" He asked, but he spoke in Akkadian, and Ahkmen had yet to pick up more of the complex words. One phrase you taught him was –

"I do not speak Akkadian," he said.

Luqa––or at least that's what Ahk thought his name was––just sighed, rolling his eyes and turning back to face front. Ahkmen frowned softly but turned to attention as well.

That was generally how he spent his working hours. Much like he had in the House of Life in Egypt, he wasted away the time by staring at you or thinking of you, phasing out at the thought of knowing you. He was sure his coworker was tired of his shenanigans, but he couldn't find it in himself to care about what Luqa thought.

Fortunately, neither of you had work that often, and after asking the stewardess, your schedules were matched up to have the same amount of free time at the same time. The two of you took full advantage of that, spending many of your days strolling throughout the city and trying the new foods and beers created throughout the mud brick landscape. Strips of gardens were scattered throughout the city, but none more grand than the terraces of flora making up the Hanging Gardens, whose trees leant over with their plentiful fruit. Deep green vines twisted around blue tiled ledges and tall, white pillars, the especially long ones brushing up against the people who came and went from the gardens. You had yet to actually enter any of the Hanging Gardens, but they remained a constant in the background of the city.

Many morning and evenings you spent in the brewery. Sometimes Ahk would follow you, but other times he left to temples and taverns, socializing with the locals in hopes of absorbing more of the language. His favorite time was coming to visit you at the brewery after letting you work for a few hours, as you always lit up like a beacon whenever you caught sight of him.

This time was no different––you raced up the steps, taking his hand and dragging him back down. Today, tarps had been raised above the workshop, blocking away the blearing sun, and allowing a little more comfort in the already-heated environment. Not all of the stations were filled, but your friend Tiamat was still there at your side.

"I am – I am doing a, uh, a way to make my beer, but with the barley," you stuttered out, barely coherent enough for him to understand.

"So... the really alcoholic kind?" Ahk asked uncertainly.

"Yes!!" You exclaimed, and Tiamat laughed.

"Here," Tiamat said, gesturing Ahk over to her. She dunked the cup in her hand into the frothing beer, and handed it to him when it filled with the golden liquor.

You and Tiamat waited in baited breath as Ahk slowly lifted the cup to his mouth, sipping at the warm drink with a critical look in his eye. It was sweet––almost like cider, but it burnt his throat on the way down, warming his stomach pleasantly once it was there. He looked up, and you were still watching intently.

"What do you think?" You asked, your hands clasped tight together in front of your chest.

"It's good," he said, nodding. "You know what would go great with this?"

"What?"

"Cardamom. It's a spice, I'm sure they have it here," he said, but your brow furrowed as you looked away, a confused look on your face.

Ahk looked to Tiamat and repeated, "cardamom."

Tiamat, who look equally confused, said something to you that you had to translate.

"We do not know the word in Egyptian," you said.

"Shit," Ahk muttered. "It would taste so good, though."

"Is it sweet?"

"Well, it is used in desserts," he said with a shrug.

"That is good for me. We can – uhh, we can go to a spice shop, and we can, or you can, find it," you suggested, and repeated it to Tiamat, who nodded with a brightening smile.

"Good idea," she said.

The three of you set off quickly with Tiamat leading the way, as she knew the city best after the years she'd been living within its walls. Bustling chatter filled the streets, accompanied by shuffling feet, wooden wheels, and the jarring calls of sheep and goats. Bells sometimes rung as merchants shouted out their wares, and you ducked beneath their raised arms, giggling as you followed Tiamat, while Ahkmen trailed close behind, almost always reaching out for your hand.

Tiamat was a good deal taller and buffer than you, reaching Ahkmen's height and surpassing his strength, so she was stopped by large crowds that suddenly crossed your path. You panted as you caught up to her long-striding legs, followed by Ahk also appearing and panting.

"Since the drought, a lot of our trade lines have been cut... of course, the Kassite takeover didn't help, so we've only got a couple spice shops left," Tiamat told you as she tried to look over the moving heads of the crowd. "I think most of it is grown in the King's garden now, actually."

"That is good," you said, positing it was better than nothing.

"Yes, but... I do miss cinnamon," she said with a chuckle.

You relayed what she said––minus the cinnamon––to Ahkmen as you waited for the people, who were dragging along a group of goats, to pass by.

"That ought to make our search easier," Ahk said, and no sooner had he'd finished the phrase than he was being pulled on again, your left hand clasping his and your right held by Tiamat.

Frequent turns led you from the northern-most side of the city and into the south, where the streets were less disorganized than they had been. You tried to stop Tiamat several times to look at some of the cuisine and textiles within the scattered markets, but to Ahk's relief she didn't notice you, and kept on her quick-footed pace headed for the spices.

Both you and Ahk fell into heavy pants as Tiamat finally drew to a stop in front of a large, clay storage house, staring up at the symbol carved above the entrance. Through the archway you could spy a few people moving about amongst the massive pots and jars of sandy colors.

When Tiamat made to enter, the two of you followed gingerly, looking like twins with your hands curled in front of your chests to avoid touching anything. You scanned the room as a whole before your eyes fell to one of the merchants, wrapped up in white desert attire and a large turban set on his head. He was speaking quietly to another man, so you ignored him for the time being, and returned your attention to Ahkmen.

"What is the spice you did name?" You asked in a whisper.

"Cardamom," he repeated. "It's just kind of... vaguely brown. Like split wheat."

"That is a good help," you said flatly, looking at the pyramid-like structures of spice nearly overflowing out of the tall clay vases, most of which could qualify as 'vaguely brown'.

"Cardamom," Tiamat tried the word, rolling the word unnecessarily. She turned to you and said in Akkadian, "it's a strange word, isn't it?"

"A little," you agreed with a giggle.

You and Tiamat watched as Ahk sniffed each spice individually, often having to bend down to get a full whiff of the scent. Each time he did so, he wrinkled up his nose, stepping away with a frown.

"Is it bad?" You asked on the first time he did this.

"No, it's just really strong," he said.

That was his continuing excuse for doing it at least ten more times throughout the 15 presented jugs. By the end of it, you were no closer to knowing cardamom's Akkadian name, much less actually having any cardamom.

He backed away from the jars with a frown, crossing his arms as he scanned over all of them once more.

"Nothing," he said.

"How may I help you?" Someone behind you asked, and all three of you turned to see the shopkeeper––the darkskinned merchant who wore a turban. He spoke in Akkadian, but he had an accent, one only Tiamat could pick up on.

"We're looking for a specific spice, but we only know the name in Egyptian," Tiamat said, gesturing vaguely in Ahk's direction.

"Alright," he said with a heavy brow, glancing between you. "What is it?"

You nudged Ahk and he said, "cardamom."

"Ah," the merchant nodded, "qaqullu."

Tiamat asked for him to say it again, but she didn't know the spice, and reported so with a confused look.

"I wouldn't expect ye' to, it's off from Kuru in the east," he said, gesturing out the door with a hand holding round bottle. "Route's been cut, so I haven-been able to get it."

Before you could do it, and to your immense surprise, the merchant repeated what he'd said to Ahkmen in Egyptian. Ahk had a similar look of surprise on his face.

"Do you know of any place that might have it?" Ahk asked with wide eyes. He almost didn't notice the way you grinned toothily up at him.

"You are so intense," you whispered to him.

"How do you even know that word? You asked me what soup meant just yesterday –"

"The King's garden, probably," the merchant interrupted. "But it would cost much."

"That's not a problem," Ahk said before Tiamat could respond.

The three of you bid a hasty thanks and good-bye to the merchant, who gave you an odd look as you raced out of the shop. Crowds had only grown more thick during your time indoors, meaning you could barely see past the moving bodies, and had to rely on Ahk and Tiamat for where you were supposed to go.

Tiamat led the way once more, winding back through the streets from the way you came. According to her, the King's palace was somewhat near to the center, but the gardens were held closer to the largest temple, which marked the exact center of the city. Ahkmen spied through the tall buildings a stretching tower, reaching into the sky in white stone and dark, green leaves. The closer you got, it became easier to realize that the garden resided in a massive temple complex that took up nearly half of the city dwelling on the western bank.

You stopped at a large bridge hanging over the wide Euphrates that split the city down the middle, staring at the sheer size of the rushing water compared to the thin stretches you and Ahk had travelled down. Travellers and chariots marched down the large brick street, wooden wheels pulled by strange creatures you'd never seen before. Most chariots carried one or two passengers, as well as a carriage for goods, such as food, stone, and cloth. A couple carried massive bushels of reeds. On either side of the bridge were familiar statues––the lions with the heads of men, of which you'd learned earlier were titled Lamassu. Soldiers with spears and sheathed swords stood at their sides.

The frequency of soldiers and guards increased as you approached the walls surrounding the temple of Marduk, whose name you only knew after extended conversations with both Tiamat and Zakiti. Ahkmen wasn't aware of the name, but that didn't stop him staring at the temple's might, six terraces building the material of humans into the unearthly heavens.

However, the temple ended up not being your final destination. Tiamat led you past the tower and to the south, running down a wide street that led directly to one of the city's outer walls. Once you stood at the wall's base, she took a sharp turn to the left, and took you to one of the city's entrances across the moat of water.

Across he bridge lay farms and smaller houses, as well as another wall––though much smaller––that had been built to fortify the growing city. The sun shined a bright white overhead, allowing the dewdrops on trees to shine and glitter across the small, town-like reaches.

"There," said Tiamat, pointing out to a shaded area protecting rows of plants. Some of them had tarps set out above them, but others had more permanent shade, effectively hiding a good number of rows from view.

Ahk squinted in the bright sun to try and make out the different types of plants growing there.

"Are we allowed to actually go into the garden?" Ahk asked, a question you relayed to Tiamat.

"I've never been," she said, and began forward across the bridge. "So I'm not actually sure."

You translated the general idea again.

"Well, I've run this much now," Ahk said with a sigh, placing his hands on his hips. "Ought not to give up now."

The overbearing scent of mixed spices was quick to hit you, and the three of you slowed down as your noses burned. A few people were standing outside an open archway, the darkness inside containing several more people, and barrels worth of spices. To the left of that the growing continued in shadow, while sunloving plants enjoyed the last light of the day.

Ahkmen accidentally met the eyes of one of the people flanking the entrance, causing his gaze to shoot back down to the ground. The doorway, like many in Egypt, was raised partway off the ground to avoid tracking dust and sand into the building. He stepped over the frame, and stood blindly while his eyes adjusted to the major change in light. His squinting was disturbed when you bumped into him, muttering some sort of apology before you pressed your side to his, scanning the quiet room with a look of near menace.

Tiamat appeared to be in a similar state of apprehension, scanning the room in hopes of finding out whether or not you were allowed to be in there at all. You and Ahk hadn't noticed, but the symbol of the King was carved clearly above the small house, and those who stood nearby were dressed in deep colors of red, purple, and green––a stark difference from the farmers who dwelled in much simpler homes outside.

Your awkward glances eventually caught the eye of a much older man, whose beard curled magnificently between robes of green and silver silk. His dark, bushy brow furrowed as his eyes fell specifically to you––a sort of anger, or perhaps confusion, overtook his curiosity and he stepped forward.

"My name is Sagar," the man said, taking your hand and bowing his head slightly. You stiffened, and Ahk quickly came over to your side, wrapping an arm around the back of your waist.

"Hello, I, uh – I am here with my friends," you replied in Akkadian, joined soon on the other side by Tiamat.

Compared to you and Ahk, Tiamat looked a great deal older as well––neither of you had gotten the chance to ask her age, but considering you were about as short as a 10 year old, and Ahk was twiggy as a 12 year old, it created a considerable difference. You assumed this was why Sagar very suddenly averted his attention to Tiamat, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Like you, Tiamat grimaced, her shoulders tightening.

"How may I help you?" Sagar asked, his voice low and weathered against your softer ones. Tiamat stuttered before she found an answer.

"We are looking for a spice, qaqullu," she said slowly.

"You must be a woman of noble bearings," he said with a smile.

"Well –"

"No," you answered for her. "But he is."

You pointed to Ahk with your thumb, who shot you an offended look before he confronted Sagar.

"I do not speak Akkadian," Ahk said, easily recalling the only phrase he knew in Akkadian.

Sagar looked him up and down, almost hesitant to speak.

"Egyptian?" He asked.

You nodded, somewhat impressed considering Ahk was trying to wear more Babylonian clothes, but Ahkmen just looked unsettled, shifting his weight between his feet.

"I've been helping them look for cardamom for their beer," Ahk explained quietly.

"If you have the means to pay for it, the King does have seeds. The price has gone up, though," he added, "due to some... outer pressures."

"You mean the trade network?" Ahk asked, kinking a single brow.

"I'm afraid so. It'll be several gold bands or sacks of grain."

Several?? Ahk's eyes bulged as he heard the price. While he was regaining his words, his mouth fallen open, Sagar translated the sentence back into Akkadian for Tiamat.

"Mother of Gods," Tiamat blurted out. "We'll, uh – we'll be right back."

She herded the two of you out the door––which wasn't a very hard task––and took you round the corner so the doorway was no longer visible.

"I don't think I have that much grain and I certainly don't have that much gold," she said quickly, her eyes flickering between you and Ahk despite the fact that he couldn't understand her.

"We have many gold," you said, retaining most of your optimism easily.

"Okay, wait, we don't have that much gold," Ahk said as soon as he vaguely translated what you said. He turned to you and continued, "we still need to get through Elam and into Harappa. And we'll still need a lot of money once we get there so we don't starve after, like, three days of being in the city."

"Hmm..." you hummed quietly, your brow knotted together as you picked at the skin on your chin.

The two of them waited for you while you thought deeply, staring at the ground.

"We can steal," you suggested after a moment of silence.

"Again??"

"You say it all the time, that it is fun to steal, and from Kings," you said rather loudly, causing Ahk to shoot forward and silence you with a hand held tight over your mouth, simultaneously pushing you against the nearest wall.

"That man in there knew Egyptian, and I'm pretty sure he works for the King," he said quietly.

You stared at each other, iron in your gaze and steel in his.

"What is happening right now?" Tiamat asked, and at that point you recalled that, once more, you were not alone. Ahk had a similar reaction, backing up as his hands zipped behind his back.

You explained the short conversation to her, at which point she nodded with much the same expression as Ahk's when he thought deeply.

"What's the King like?" Ahk asked, knowing little more of the man other than his name. You translated.

"His name is Gidar," she began, allowing you to translate each sentence before she continued. "He is quiet, keeps to himself. He has funded building and farming projects, though, and he upholds the law, so no one really bothers him."

"Are his punishments violent?"

That one took you a little longer to figure out––you didn't know the Akkadian word for 'violent' or 'punishments,' so instead you said something more along the lines of 'does he kill or hurt people who do bad'.

"Like stealing?" She asked.

"Sure," you said with a shrug.

"He will cut off your hands and kill you."

"... oh," you mumbled, grimacing as you turned to Ahk and translated.

"Well, then we better not get caught," he said, placing his hands on his hips.

You glanced to Tiamat with an odd look.

"I do not think that is something we can ask her to do," you whispered, leaning into Ahk.

"Probably not," he said after a moment's thought. "Tell her to go back to the brewery. We'll be back there soon, I think."

"Today?" You asked, your eyes wide.

"Tonight," he nodded.

Late afternoon, and the warm, fiery colors it brought sunk into the horizon, and the stars chased after that light, appearing easily in the sky surrounding a simpler town than the centers of Karanduniash. Only small torches burnt outside the main walls, usually hung by entrances to the clay huts built up from the earth. Some houses were illuminated brightly by fire places, casting squares of light onto the ground from windows, but many were climbing up onto their roofs with rugs and blankets.

You watched the evening progress from a spot near the King's spice garden which, now that you'd stared at it for a couple hours, looked incredibly inconspicuous for such a rich store. An alleyway hid you from sight of the caretakers inside the garden, and a silver earring from Ahk allowed you a hearty, thick stew, steaming with warmth in your bowls.

With a grin you clinked your wooden bowls together before raising it up, forgoing your spoon in favor of slurping the soup. He chuckled, matching your behavior as he glanced past your shoulder, to the garden, and then ultimately to one of the nearby houses in his line of sight.

More people up on the roof––smoke billowed into the air, long shadows and brightly lit faces indicated the bonfire now burning on the rooftop. A couple louder shouts, though still not loud enough for him to understand, and laughter came from there. Ahk recalled with jarring suddenness nights spent on his friend's roof's, cooking fish and warming beer over flames. Fireflies sometimes drifted through the streets below, but what always stood above were looming palm trees, silhouetted against the evening sky rife with stars.

All he could see of the stars was through the thin gap between the houses where you now sat, as anything outside of looking directly up was fuzzed by torchlight. At least the scent of stew still tempted him; he turned his direction back to his food and felt considerably better after finishing.

"I think we take hot stew for granted," he said after a full minute of staring at his empty bowl.

"It is hard to make when we move," you said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes, you... you need spices, and – and wheat, or barley, or it will be hot fish water," you said in complete seriousness, looking up to him with a critically thinking eye that sent him into laughter.

"Hot fish water??" He repeated, a wide, sweet smile across his face that had you blushing.

"That is what that is!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "keep quiet, my dear."

"I am not your deer," you said flatly, and returned to the last of your stew.

His heart beat painfully, warmth following that pulsing depth. His smile fell, as well, as imagination––and longing––seized him, and he very nearly pulled you into his lap. Instead he dug his nails into his palm, and proceeded to thoroughly imagine the entire scenario, were he not a coward.

He would take your hands and pull you in. You would follow without hesitation, slotting your knees on either side of his hips, and resting yourself on his thighs. Then you'd ask why he did this, and he would say something suave––something like 'just wanted to see you better'. He'd raise his hand and push the hair out of your face to see your dark, inky eyes, and the red mark above your brow. And he would ask–

"How did you get that mark on your forehead?"

You paused your eating and Ahk stiffened, realizing he just spoke aloud his thoughts.

"My parents did give it to me," you said quietly as you set your now-empty bowl aside. "It was... on my mother, not there forever. It – it came off, but they did want me to always have my third eye open. And they hit it in with sindoor."

"Sindoor?"

"It is from Harappa, I think... I do.. I remember that, in that time, I was in stone homes, with flags of red and gold, and the food.. was very sweet. I think that it is Harappa, what I remember," you said, slowly coming to terms with your own memories.

"You remember your time there?" Ahk asked, raising his brow.

"Only a little," you said with a shrug. "But the mark is where everything is made, by Gods, by us. It is..," you sighed deeply, "I do not know how to say it in Egyptian."

"Oh," he said. His knees pulled ever so slightly closer to his chest, scraping his sandals on the rough gravel. "Can you draw it?"

"... maybe?"

You moved to your knees, searching your immediate surroundings for a stick or rock.

The stick dragged through the loose dirt, forming shapes that soom became ideas––one triangle to represent bread, beside two, and then a blank, empty space you circled.

"It is... nothing. It is when you have no bread, that is a number too," you said, watching Ahk carefully to guage if he fully understood. "Because the life does not.. fully live, without our math."

"The absence of something isn't a number," Ahk said with a frown, his intense gaze switching from the image to you.

"I do not know," you mumbled, pulling your knees to your chest. "It is only what my parents did say."

The stray expression on your face was solidified with wandering eyes, trailing off to the side of the alley wall. Ahk was still in a state of stupefaction, staring at your features––the curl of your lashes, or the warmth of your lips, whose mirage always found his cheek in dreams and fantasies.

Before he knew it he was leaning forward, at last reaching out for you, fingers numb with nervousness scraping against the earth. You still wouldn't look to him, but he continued, thoughtlessly, to creep closer, his hand hovering close enough to your waist to feel your heat.

"The man is leaving," you whispered, the words acting like ice over Ahkmen's brain.

He quickly withdrew, clearing his throat and tracing your eyeline back to the King's garden. There was, in fact, a silhouette of a man leaving the garden hut, settling a tarp over the door and its' symbol before he disappeared from view.

"Give it a few minutes," he muttered back, his eyes set dead upon the disappearing figure. "He might come back."

Ahkmen sat back down on his butt, the pebbles beneath him scratching as he adjusted himself against the wall. You glanced to him for a moment, offering a small smile when you saw his furrowed brow, lessening his anxiety if only minutely.

The two of you talked quietly for a little while longer, keeping up your cover as vagrant friends, until Ahk was assured the guard wouldn't be returning. He kept a continuous eye on the garden, and was quick to move to his feet after he decided it was safe. Your hand slipped into his without him asking, a grip he solidified as you jogged, looking up and down the street you crossed.

No one.

The flap the man set over the doorway was a meek form of protection, and was easily bypassed with nothing more than your hands. It rippled behind you as you entered, but soon fell silent, hiding you and Ahk from view of the street.

Inside the garden's storeroom was even darker than the night outside––the flap blocked out the light of torches, and a ceiling concealed the sky. You squinted as you tried to see, eventually making out the shaky forms of closed caskets and containers. Most of them had lids made of pottery, but some had nets wrapped around the high necks, secured tightly into place with complex knots.

"You must see for it," you whispered to him. "I do not know the smell, or the look."

"I don't really know how it looks either, I'll be honest with you," he said. "I've only ever seen it fully processed in one of the kitchens."

"Why did you not say that?!" You hissed.

"I didn't think it would be a problem!" He whispered harshly.

"You –" you sucked in a breath, "– you find the thing, I will go see that we are not found."

"Yes, dear," he said in a drawling tone he had used many times for those two words.

Before he knew it his back was slammed against a wall, sending pain shooting up his spine and into his cranium. He nearly let out a pained cry, but your hand zipped up to cover his mouth, your other arm keeping his chest pinned to the wall. He stared wide-eyed down at you, shocked at the force you so easily used.

Your fingers over his lips.

Your hand on his chest.

Your leg slotted between his.

His cheeks were set ablaze.

"You do not get the bad part of the times in Egypt, when you did steal and make fun with guards," you said, glowering up at him. "But this is not a place where you are rich. You can not pay for innocence. Not here. And this price is death if we are seen, like it is always for me, in Egypt and Babylon."

He gulped down the knot in his throat, only breathing when you gently pulled away. You still glared at him, but it was less intense, and you put more distance between you.

"Do see the cardmoms," you mumbled before you left.

The flap settling back into place was the last sound he heard from you, your fabric shoes allowing you to pad quietly away without making any noise. An intense, overpowering silence followed, darkened hands rubbing it like lavender upon his skin, familiar and uncomfortable.

He spent the following hour or two searching through the assorted jars, carefully raising up mud lids or untying thick rope. Many of the spices were ones he'd tried before––some reminding him of Egypt and others bringing memories of the few countries he travelled to during his time as Prince. Now he was stealing not just for fun, but because he had to. He couldn't afford what he was taking.

Cardamom, who carried a sweet, fruity scent, ended up being at the opposite end of the room, making it one of the last he inspected. Its' scent was also incredibly distinct, and the moment he found it he knew most certainly it was cardamom. He grinned.

It wasn't the seeds, either––it was the actual powdered spice, meaning it was already ready to put in the beer. But there was very little of it, the whole of the container being around the size of his head.

He sighed almost wearily, leaning sideways against the wall.

If you were still here, he could've apologized, and you'd both probably be gone by now. As he phased out at the thought of you, he mindlessly stroked the clay pot.

Approaching footsteps broke his trance. His eyes shot up, automatically tucking the cardamom into his clothes and running off into the night garden, in which the medicinal herbs were grown. He sucked in a sharp breath, realizing acutely that he was now ankle deep in wet earth, though fortunately, in-between the rows instead of on them.

The tarp at the garden's entrance flapped again as the stranger entered. There was little protecting him from being discovered now, and he fled off to the sun garden, careful to not slosh his feet in the mud. It was then, when mud had splattered up to his calf, that he remembered his leather shoes were still inside the storeroom, waiting to be discovered.

Thoughts flew wildly around his head, his quick-thinking talents melting away into timed panic. Wide eyes flickered from the archway between the shadow garden and the storeroom, and then to the arch leading into the sun garden, then back to the stranger, who pivoted on their heel.

He fled into the next room the moment the steps even hinted of growing louder, pressing his back against the opposite wall, his chest heaving up and down.

Again his frantic eyes searched the room for anything that might aid his escape. Tarps were stretched taut between wooden poles, blocking access to the outside, but allowing sunlight to stream in. He looked up and realized with sickness that the only way out was up.

Digging his teeth into the inside of his cheek, he tied fabric around the clay pot, ensuring it wouldn't fall from his grasp. He tensed his muscles, preparing himself mentally before he jumped up and grasped the top of the pole with his fingers.

Steps continued to get closer, now treading through the silted earth and sparking a dreadful terror that shivered down his neck in much the way it had when you slammed him against the wall. He scrambled up, his bare feet digging into the splintered pole before he threw himself over the other edge of the tarp. A loud thud came from him as he fell on his back––once more injuring it––bringing from him a pained groan.

Footsteps grew even closer, marking the sign of running feet that had Ahk clambering to his legs, cradling the cardamom to his chest as he ran. Bits of gravel and hay dug into his bare feet, bringing with them sharp pains that had Ahk convinced he was bleeding. When he looked behind himself, however, he found no trail, and slowed his sprint as he crossed the gate into the main city.

Deep breaths wracked his chest and he collapsed partways, leaning the weight of his upper body on his knees, fingers splayed out on the heated skin. He quickly looked behind him to be sure, and after finding nothing continued on into the city. It would take a while before he reached the brewery.

He paused in an alleyway for a short few minutes, checking the state of his heel and finding it alright. Reddened and dry, but unpunctured, despite the pain being sent through his muscles. With a sigh he leaned back, closing his eyes.

What a nightmare.

He could not pull his thoughts from the image of you angry, blazing with an inequality that had clearly been irritating you for a while. Even with his lie he alienated himself from you.

You would forgive him, but not for the reasons Ahkmen wanted you to. You'd forgive him because you had to, because the only other option was fending for yourself through another country and a half until you got to Harappa, where even there safety wasn't assured. But you wouldn't forgive him because you loved him, or because you knew he could do better. Horrible guilt flared in his chest, turning to bile in the back of his throat.

Whether or not you intended this reaction, it was there nonetheless, and Ahkmen did his best to force it down with logic. It wasn't a big deal. He could do better. And, he supposed, he got the cardamom, so that had to count for something.

His hands were still wrapped around the pot discreetly when he entered the vacant city plaza, heading quickly down the steps into the brewery. From the entrance he could hear the soft sounds of burning fire, and when he pulled away the door he noticed immediately warm light and soft voices, stirring with a mixer that clunked gently against the side of the cauldron.

The two of you went quiet when Tiamat noticed Ahk standing awkwardly at the doorway. He glanced between you before reaching into his clothes, pulling out the cask of cardamom so highly coveted in the last couple hours.

Tiamat gasped, a wide grin instantly spreading across her face. Your mouth fell open in shock.

"You did get it?" You asked, stepping around the boiling pot to stand in front of Ahk.

"Yeah," he said, still reeling from his escape. "Almost got caught. I had to jump over the tarps 'round the sun garden."

"Jump??" You asked.

"Well – more vaulting over them," he said. That didn't clear it up at all, but you were grateful anyways.

He sat in the corner of the limestone room, watching you and Tiamat mix a handful of the spice in the large cauldron, and testing the scent as you stirred. You continued to talk in hushed whispers of Akkadian, your shadows casted long against the low fire. Sleepiness was already beginning to take over him, leaning his head back against the cool wall, and letting his eyes slip shut.

When he came to, Tiamat had gone, and you were left alone to tend to your beer. You still stood atop a box that lifted you up to look over the jug, slowly stirring the thick mixture. Your face was flushed from the heat, and the strands of your hair that fell in front of your eyes casted shadows on your cheeks and brow.

After a yawn and a stretch, he lifted himself to stand, and shuffled over to your side.

"I'm sorry for endangering you," he said quietly, hesitant to look and even more hesitant to touch.

"I do not know that word," you said without looking up.

"Putting you in a place where you might get hurt."

"Oh," you glanced up to him, but didn't linger before you returned to the vat. "It is okay. I know you do not know very much better."

"It's not really okay, I should've thought beyond my own nose."

"A little," you agreed before falling silent.

After a minute he asked, "is there a way I can make it up to you?"

"You had the cardamom, that is good," you chuckled. "But you almost got caught?"

"Ah, that," he said with a long sigh that made you giggle again.

He recited to you the events of the evening that progressed after you left. He conveniently left out a few details––such as almost crying because he'd upset you––but included how he'd injured himself, how the garden official was hot on his trail, and how he accidentally left his shoes in the storeroom. You nodded along.

A beat of silence passed after his story ended, broken only by the bubbling of beer.

"You are filthy," you said.

"Thanks," he said with a frown.

You set a lid over the cask, feeding the fire only a little more before you stepped down from the pedestal.

"I know where we must go," you said, stopping in front of him to look up and meet his eye.

"To bed?" He asked hopefully.

"No."

His heated skin finally calmed down enough to feel a cool breeze as you led him out of the brewery, and back into the empty town center. For a few minutes you walked in silence, and every now and then you'd turn down a street, directions he thoughtlessly followed.

The scent of water hit him before he saw it, and soon the brick path led out to a crystal-white terrace, holding descending steps on either side of the raised platform. Below sloshed the inky waters of the canal, reflecting his warped features. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but was halted when you took his hand, gently pulling him down the glazed brick steps. Their tops were white, and the rims beneath carried a familiar shade of blue.

Olive-colored trees grew on the riverside, barely reaching any taller than the platform that now stood proud above him. Only a single other person was there––a bald man drifting on a skiff at the other bank of the river. He was easy to ignore, which you did gladly, and continued to pull Ahk to the riverside.

"You have dirt," you said, scanning him up and down. "And here is where you do clean your body. This is your forever. No more of the home baths, and your smelly things."

"You mean my lavender?"

"Etuvaka. You know what I say," you said with a stern look.

"I know," he said quietly, sitting on the ledge of the stone dock with his feet swinging in the water.

You took a seat beside him, slipping off your shoes and rolling up your pants before you dipped your legs in beside his.

"How are your feet?" You asked.

"Alright," he said as he massaged the bottoms of them. "I thought they were bleeding, but they aren't, so I must be alright."

"Take your clothe off," you said, suddenly moving up to your knees and scooting behind his back.

He chuckled but undid the tie around his waist, pulling the green shawl off his shoulders. It fell easy to the crook of his elbow, and you tugged it down further, eventually pulling the fabric out from being tucked into his skirt, and tossing it aside to the marble floor.

"You have... color," you said quietly after a moment of just staring at his back.

"Sort of dark? Like dirt?" He asked, attempting to look over his shoulder at you, but settling for staring at the wall beside him.

"A little," you said.

Your fingers touched the top of his spine, trailing down the bumps and ridges showing prominently through the skin of a man overworked and weary. When you pressed harder, even slightly, he hissed and jerked away.

"Careful there," he said, clearing his throat to mask his whimper.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

Ahk continued to wash his feet and legs free of the mud while you stayed knelt behind him, your touch brushing against him every so often. He finished rather quickly, but enjoyed your hesitant fingers so greatly that he pretended to keep washing himself, hoping to feel you at his back and shoulders again.

"You are Shu fully equipped," you began to murmur, your palms settling on his shoulders and digging softly into the skin. "You have not been taken to the God's place of execution, for you are covered with the kenu-garment. You were not made to enter into the God's place of execution, for you are the Great One, baboon-shaped; you have not entered into the God's place of execution, the knife has no power over you."

He sat in silence for another moment, his mouth hanging subconsciously open.

"That was... perfect Egyptian," he turned around, dragging water on his leg, "where did you learn that?"

"My time in your class, in Memphis, was not for nothing," you said with a giggle, as though it was inconsequential, as though you were normal. "It is one of your spells, for being killed by a King. It is best, because that is your crime."

He could do nothing but stare, confounded.

"I could fall in love with you," he blurted out, watching with dread as your expression fell.

You pursed your lips softly, your gaze falling to the river behind him. To his credit, he hadn't given everything away, though by the look on your face he might as well have.

"I am not a person that people fall in love with," you said quietly.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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what are your thoughts about izzy and alec’s sibling bond from the scenes we got from the show

i liked their relationship a lot, actually. which is not to say that it was flawless, but the flaws we got to see were honestly some of what made me the most interested in them. and then of course sh dropped it like a hot potato, but like... it was still pretty interesting to me

disclaimer that this is my own Abused Kid™ stuff projecting for sure, but i still think the way i see their relationship makes sense (or well, i'm not sure if i would say my parents were abusive, but they are quite a lot like the lightwoods in their own way and i definitely consider the lightwoods abusers, so it doesn't really matter that much). so like this will probably feature a fair amount of oversharing lol

anyway! so what i find really interesting and really like about alec and izzy's relationship is that despite the fact that them having abuser parents who honestly put them in very specific "kid who always fucks up" vs "kid who is expected to do everything perfect" roles, they managed to still be friends and on each other's side and have an overall very loving and supporting relationship. i think that's what attracted me to their sibling bond the most, because for decades me and my brother didn't really manage to be close or build a relationship precisely because of those roles. in our case, my brother was the fuckup kid, i was the kid who had to always be perfect (in my case, lowkey to "compensate" for him) and it led to him resenting me and being all but afraid of me because everything i did seemed to be so much better than him in my parent's eyes, so... yeah

so it always struck me as pretty interesting that alec and izzy seemed to be genuinely so close. izzy is one of the few people who gets alec to smile and who gets to ever touch alec, and although they have a lot of differences, it always came down way more to teasing than to actual fighting between them

but also - which is partially why i said that their flaws were part of what drew me to them the most - the tensions that emerged from that abusive background were very much there, and i found that pretty interesting

another disclaimer that i tend to relate to alec more, because i was in the same role as him, but also tend to be very forgiving towards izzy because i see my brother in her and i blame myself for our relationship way more than him since he was the weakest link there lol. but also in part i think i project unto her in the sense that i kept trying to make things easier to my brother, but i kept fucking up because i didn't fully understand his situation, and i definitely think that's what went on with izzy and alec

so let's get into the details of how the whole "fuckup kid" vs "golden kid" (and disclaimer before ppl come yell at me again: i'm not saying that alec was treated well by his parents or that they treated him like he was good enough, because they definitely didn't. i'm saying that when compared to izzy he was considered the kid that had potential, that could be trusted, and who had the most amount of pressure put unto. again, that was how i was treated by my parents, so miss me with the "wow you think alec had it easy?" shit because i know damn well he did not lol. the "golden kid" is an abuse archetype and therefore it means you are abused. calm down) thing affected their relationship in particular

so alec was the eldest, and i think from very early on he latched unto the expectations his parents had for him as a way to protect himself and make sense of the world. i was telling autistic alec anon just today how i think that the fact that shadowhunter culture was so black and white and gave alec such a clear sense of what he was supposed to do and who he was supposed to be kind of helped him navigate the world because it made it easier for him to figure out the path to follow when everything else was just so confusing and the expectations were so crushing and everything he felt was so complicated. i think alec's always known that he didn't conform, and because he didn't have a safe outlet to let that out, he decided to just go by the book to protect himself. which is valid

that being said, i think the other half of the reason why he decided to pursue the "perfect shadowhunter" existence so hard was exactly because of izzy (and later jace and max). because again, alec is the eldest, and he was already being crushed by expectations of upholding the lightwood name and following the rules and whatnot. like, maryse and robert basically expected their kids to undo all the shit they had done when they joined the circle, and they didn't even tell them that that was the reason, so they were probably just taught that they should do what the lightwoods said because and that was that. and because there were all these stakes that they didn't even understand or know about, the pressure was harder

and alec was already being taught to be a leader, and he loved his sister, so he probably wanted to shield her from all the pressure of those expectations, because he knew he was out there fucking killing himself for it. so i think part of the reason he tried so hard to be perfect was because, if he was perfect, izzy (and then jace and max) would get to breathe a little bit. alec is pretty self sacrificial and definitely has a tendency to shoulder suffering in the place of ppl he loves, so i don't think that's far fetched. also, we saw how alec literally shouldered all the blame for jace's fuckups, despite the fact that jace did it all behind alec's back and with alec telling him not to do it (i'm saying jace because from what i remember what got alec punished in particular was something that jace and clary did, not izzy, but izzy was definitely also going against whatever alec told her to and i have no doubt that he would shoulder the blame for her as well, although i don't think she would use that against him, unlike some people. but i digress). but alec just allowed himself to be punished for it like it was on him, so i think it makes sense to believe that alec tried to take the brunt of their parents' pressure so izzy wouldn't have to

and the thing is that i think that izzy... never realized that. i mean, i'm sure she realized that alec was trying way too hard to be what their parents expected of her, but she never realized that she was part of the reason. and she tried to get him to rebel a little bit because she thought that he needed it, and i mean, she was right, but what she didn't realize is that the fact that alec didn't rebel was so she could. not that izzy was not facing consequences for her rebelling, because we saw how maryse treated her versus how she treated alec and jace (it's very interesting to me also how once jace came into the picture he became an actual golden kid, not a "golden kid" like the abused kid who is put as impossibly better than the other one but still never good enough, but actually good enough, and how that was used to put alec in that position where he had to work even harder as well. but that's for another post)

and that's the frustrating part (and i think the part i relate to izzy for the most) because i think she was genuinely trying to help? but she never really understood alec. i was also talking earlier today (or was it yesterday? rip my time blindness but it was definitely recent) about how many people seem to understand alec's coming out story as an internalized homophobia story, and how i don't think that's how it was at all. i don't wanna repeat myself so if anyone's interested in that it's here. and the thing is, i think izzy made the same mistake. she falsely assumed that alec didn't rebel because he genuinely internalized that being gay was bad and because he was lying to himself about it, but that wasn't the case at all. alec knew he was gay and accepted that, he just decided to stay in the closet and live life that way. which obviously is horrible and traumatic, but it's different, and because izzy couldn't tell the difference, she made it worse

izzy kept trying to make alec "accept" himself, but alec didn't really have a problem accepting himself; he just wanted to keep that a secret to protect himself. but because she thought that he was in denial, she kept trying to push him to... not exactly admit because i wouldn't say she was all like "alec just say it you'll feel better" but to maybe "face" it, and alec interpreted that as her demanding that he came out of the closet, which he couldn't do. so he kept closing off and she kept interpreting that as him being in denial, so she kept pushing, and she made things infinitely worse for him even if i am 100% sure her intentions were good (just look at how protective she was of alec and magnus during the beginning of their relationship, or how she tried to get maryse and robert to marry her off instead of alec, or the difference between how clary and jace talked about it - "you're in love with jace"; "this is about your feelings" - and how izzy talked about it - "alec, it's okay") but as we say in brazil, hell is filled to the brim with good intentions

that is not to say that izzy didn't go on that straight shit from time to time ("we all got our things, don't we?" comes to mind, but i gotta say it really pisses me off how everyone talks about izzy being homophobic in that scene and completely ignores how openly racist alec was. like obviously both are fucked up, but yall clearly seem to think only one of these is a problem. but that's for another post) but i think that generally her intentions were always to get alec to be more comfortable with himself/happier. she noticed how much the lightwood's expectations were crushing him, but again, she didn't realize that alec was choosing to take the brunt of these. she didn't realize that he couldn't rebel like she did because of her. not until it was too late

i think izzy only started to realize that - particularly how much of her rebelling was only allowed because alec was there as a safe option so they couldn't afford to have a "fuckup child" even if obviously they still hated that they couldn't control izzy - when she tried to get the lightwoods to marry her instead of alec and they were like... lol? it's alec who's supposed to save the lightwood name, not you. you are worthless as a bride and as a peace offering

and that's when it hit her that alec was taking a role, a role that he had been effectively protecting her from having to take, but that also meant she couldn't help him

i think that's when she realized, because you can see the change in her behavior, you know - "you stood by me, so now i'm standing by you, big brother". she understood that alec was trying to protect her the same way she had tried to protect him and never realized, but that by trying to get alec to just stop without thinking about what the greater picture was for him, she was just making things harder for him. i think that was some very interesting growth we got to see

and on the other hand alec didn't realize that izzy had been trying to protect him as well. like i think that she definitely laid the whole "fuckup kid" thing too thick, which was partially for herself, like, basically embracing the role because she would never be good enough for the lightwoods so why not just accept that she was a fuckup and be everything they despised? but i think she also partially did it for alec, because she wanted to show him that it was okay. that there could be a life that wasn't just doing what your parents expected you to. and like, sure, she got treated like shit for it, and she faced some forms of abuse that alec didn't (mainly touch/affection withdrawal from what we got to see in the show, but also considerable more verbal degrading. again im not saying alec had it easy, especially because we know that the parts where maryse expressed "pride" over him were basically used to make him do what she wanted; but still, the difference in treatment is very clear), but she was still standing, so it was possible, see?

i don't even think this is something i had to defend a lot because she said it so many times? she was always telling alec that he could loosen up, that it was okay (she said the exact words "it's okay" many times). she had a kinda, idk, sassy attitude over it, generally treating it like a joke, but imo that was because she knew that if she talked about it in all seriousness alec would shut down, like he had many times. so i think by making it into a joke and playing the mindless "woo i don't care about anything" character she was trying to have that conversation in a more subtle way. at the very least, alec was amused

and i think a huge part of the fandom also misinterprets izzy as being exactly that shallow person who only thought about immediate gratification that she pretended to be but honestly i don't see that at all? throughout all of season 1, the single thing that drove izzy's character was her desire to protect alec, except for when she tried to save meliorn from him, which was like.... just the decent thing to do. and izzy is not a shallow character. she is not stupid. and she is not primarily driven by her own desires. that is not to say that izzy was never selfish (see: how she treated raphael, so much shit about sizzy), but she is not the kind of character who only does whatever the fuck she wants to because it sounds more fun that's jace and clary. most of the time, her primary motivation was to help alec or clary, aka people that she loves. i think that, like alec, she is the kind that only extends that protectiveness over the people closest to her and is not really the "helping everyone out" type, but she is also not completely self-absorbed like she pretended to be. and i don't think she even cared all that much about parties and whatnot. like when did we see her going to one on her own without it being a mission? when did we see izzy actually pursuing one night stands? that is not to say that these things are bad, but if izzy were that girl who only cares about sleeping around and having fun like she pretended to be, then one would think we would see her actually doing that instead of just performing that shallow mindless sexy girl stereotype?

and like look i know that she was written to be a sexy lamp or whatever but if the writers aren't gonna care enough about her to make that consistent and show her doing that beyond what she says i might as well go there and give her the depth that she deserves. especially because we got to see izzy talk about that so much. like her saying that one of the things that attracted her to raphael was that for once in her life it didn't feel like everything was all about sex. i find it appalling that people genuinely think that that's all she's about when she made it so clear that it bothered her. like imo izzy took on that role, again, to piss off her parents, and also because it was something that she was good at. she was good at being sexy and she got gratification and positive feedback over that, which she was obviously starved for since her own mother wouldn't even fucking hug her. it was the one thing she didn't fuck up at and that got her to feel like she was treasured, even if really she was just desired

not just that but izzy also consistently made hard choices for those she loved? like im not gonna say that izzy going to save meliorn from torture was anything less than the bare minimum but if she were that shallow self centered persona that only wanted to have fun and didn't care about the consequences she wouldn't have put so much on jeopardy to save them. or risk being deruned and losing everything so she could call the clave out on their bullshit. or break up with meliorn (someone we know she genuinely liked) so she could offer herself to be married off to someone in alec's place. the one thing that we know izzy would be miserable over, because that woman was not born to be no one's trophy wife. and she was fully ready and willing to throw her WHOLE life away for alec. that would be FOREVER. miss me with that "izzy is a shallow girl who only cares about herself and partying" shit

like to me it's very clear that that was a front (especially because the way she talked about it was SO over the top too, like, it sounded so fake. and when we got scenes of her talking to alec or to clary she was a wholly different person, way less confident, way softer. honestly izzy could have been such a great narrative about woc and hypersexualization and the traps of taking over that "femme fatale" role as a form of empowerment or whatever, but of course sh doesn't have the range for that) and i think that front was first and foremost for alec's sake. she was trying to break him out of the lightwood's brainwashing. what she didn't realize was that he wasn't brainwashed, he was making a choice between the very bad options that he had. and alec in turn didn't realize that izzy acted the way she did, in great part, for him, not for herself. i wouldn't say that alec bought that izzy was a shallow girl because we know how much he loves her and that he knows her better than anyone, but i think he also didn't realize she was trying to help/protect him

so it was such an interesting miscommunication issue and i would have loved to see that actually addressed and worked on, but alas. the most we ever got was them talking about being honest to each other about the yin fen. and izzy pretty much didn't get real plotlines or character development anyway daoijdaoij except for the absolute bullcrap that was the yin fen which i am not going to get into because it makes me so angry and i hate it so much

and then of course sh didn't really get into it and basically considered the problem solved once alec came out, which i mean, i guess does take that out of the way when it was the main miscommunication problem between them, but still, they should have had a talk and realized what a stupid dance they were both having and how they would have both benefitted from working together instead of in the name of each other. which is a frequent trope for alec in relationships anyway, too, so it could be a good introduction to these issues, but alas!

in short: i think both alec and izzy love each other very much, have each other's best interests at heart, but weren't really seeing each other as they were. and they both put a front for each other (izzy in particular) that made communication pretty much impossible. and they ended up not being very good for each other (particularly izzy for alec, but i think alec also made her feel alone and like he saw her as.. just some stupid girl, you know?), but i loved to see how these things were there simultaneously. the wanting to help each other and the effectively only making things worse. the love that was so present and so strong despite all of that. the way that they never became competitive or resented each other like kids who are raised with those dynamics usually get. i just love how there was so much going on and so many problems but still so much love between them. i really wished we got to see it actually get some sort of closure and more exploration, but. fuck me i guess

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wizardofrozz · 3 years ago

Text

Welcome to Westview!

Warnings: swearing, slight implied smut (barely), mention of past violence

A/N: This chapter is a little longer but I couldn’t find a spot to break it up that I liked lol. Taglist is open 😊

Chapter 5

Bucky POV

Steve, Clint, Loki, and I hurried up the steps of the library, hoping to find Vision before the meeting started. The four of us stumbled into the main room, seeing a table of men talking softly; I spotted Vision’s light hair first.

“There he is,” I whispered, jabbing an elbow at Loki, who stood next to me.

“Hey, Vis,” Loki called, starting towards our friend.

“Hey, guys!” Vision called, waving us over.

“Who are these guys?” a man next to Vision with a mustache asked.

“Oh, these are a few of my buddies. This is Loki Laufeyson” -Vision rested a hand on Loki’s shoulder as he sat next to him- “then Bucky Barnes.” I took a seat on Loki’s other side, waving when Vision brought attention to me. “Steve Rogers.” Vision pointed to Steve, who took the chair at the other head of the table opposite the man with the mustache. Steve smiled softly, waving as his eyes flicked around the table. “And Clint Barton.” Vision pointed to Clint, who sat across from me.

“Heya, gentlemen,” Clint greeted, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs, getting comfortable. The other men around the table mumbled ‘hellos’ or waved at us, still visibly uneasy.

“So, new business?” Vision spoke up.

“New business actually means another round of Danishes,” the man named Norm said. I sighed, quickly realizing these guys were just as bad as the woman. Loki passed me the box after pulling a treat out for himself, smirking at me.

“Gossip club, anyone?” Loki mumbled. I snorted, holding back my laughter as I picked up a raspberry Danish for myself, and Steve then passing the box to Clint.

“I thought we’d be talking about neighborhood safety, not a kid’s treehouse,” I chuckled. Loki dropped his head, covering his mouth as he chewed, hiding his smile.

“Anyone else get the wrong idea?” Steve asked, leaning forward.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Clint snorted, taking a bite of his pastry. A fit of laughter from the other end of the table caught our attention; the four of us turned our heads, trying to catch up on the conversation.

“Hey, care for a stick o' Big Red?” the guy I recognized as Wanda and Vision’s neighbor Herb said.

“Well, hold on there a second. Didn't you hear the man? He doesn't eat food,” Norm cut in, stopping Vision’s hand short.

“Is gum food?” the man with the mustache asked.

“Well, my understanding is that it's purely for mastication,” Vision stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh boy,” Loki whispered, hiding his smile. Steve looked at his lap, a small smile on his lips, and Clint threw his head back, covering his mouth; I elbowed Loki and kicked Steve’s leg, glaring at Clint.

“No, I don't do that,” Herb shot back, visibly uncomfortable.

“Ah, well, when in Westview…Cheers,” Vision took the gun, putting it in his mouth.

“Stop him!” I hissed at Loki, but it was too late.

“This could be a problem,” Loki mumbled, his eyes glued to Vision.

“Who knew you were such a funny guy?” I heard Norm chuckle in the background.

“It’s gum; what’s the problem?” Clint whispered, leaning over the table.

“And to think you came here all hot and bothered about protocols and nonsense. We actually thought you were serious!” Herb laughed, clapping a hand on Vision’s back. Loki tensed next to me when he heard the audible noise of Vision swallowing.

“That’s the problem!” Steve hissed, falling heavily back into his chair.

“So what? He swallowed it, big deal,” Clint said, tilting his head, still not understanding.

“He’s a machine”-Steve leaned over to whisper to Clint- “he has gears, not a stomach.” It took Clint a few seconds, then his eyes widened, his panicked gaze flicking to Vision.

“Shit,” Clint mumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You okay, Vis?” Loki asked, leaning closer. Vision’s brows pulled together, bringing a hand to rest on his chest as he blinked a few times. “Vis?” Loki tried again.

“I…*hiccup*…think so,” Vision croaked.

“This isn’t good,” Steve mumbled, the panic in his voice sending his voice up a few octaves.

“Hey” -I grabbed his forearm with my left hand - “he’ll be fine.” Steve sighed, nodding after a few seconds before his shoulders started to relax. I smiled at him, squeezing his arm; the soft whining noise of my arm filled the room, and I watched the lights in the library make the dark metal of my hand twinkle.

“What the…” I gasped, ripping my hand away from Steve. My hand started to shake as I inspected the metal plates slotting together on my fingers and my palm. My heart rate jumped, beating against my ribs as panic set in and the once soft whining in my arm became deafening. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to catch my breath; I slowly opened my eyes, finding the slightly lighter skin of my palm facing me. I blanched, opening and closing my flesh fist that was metal only a few seconds ago. I glanced up and Clint was staring wide-eyed at me, but he quickly turned to listen to what Steve was saying.

“What’s wrong?” Loki mumbled, elbowing my arm lightly. Steve looked away from Clint when Loki spoke, his gaze boring into the side of my head.

“Does my arm look funny?” I croaked, glancing at Loki.

“No?” Loki said, his brows pulling together in confusion. “Are you okay, Bucky?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I stammered, inspecting my hand again.

“Okay?” Loki mumbled, flicking his gaze to Steve.

“Well, I think that’s all we have time for today, gentlemen,” Herb’s voice cut in, stopping my internal meltdown.

“We’ll catch you guys at the talent show later,” Norm said with a smile, pushing away from his chair. I set my hand on the table, wondering why I was staring at it so intensely before smiling at the men at the other end of the table.

“See ya later, guys,” I said, nodding once. “Help me carry Vision,” I mumbled, leaning closer to Loki.

“On it,” Loki whispered. “Hey Vis, we have to get you ready for the talent show.”

“Talent show?” Vis giggled, stumbling as he stood. “What talent do I have?”

“You and Wanda are doing a magic show,” I assured in a soft voice, firmly gripping the back of his arm. Loki did the same on the other side, helping me lead Vision towards the door. Steve and Clint brought up the rear, glancing around to make sure no one was shooting us odd looks.

“Magic!” Vision exclaimed, giggling again, stumbling through the door.

“Shoo, don’t yell,” Loki warned softly.

“But no one” -Vision wretches like he might throw up- “can know *hiccup* about Wanda!”

“You’re going to pretend,” Loki reminds him, patting his hand.

“This is going to be a mess,” I sighed, dropping my head forward.

“You can say that again,” Clint grunts from behind me.

***

“Come on, Vis. Wanda is waiting for you,” I grunted, dragging Vision along. Vision swatted my hand away, stumbling forward to start up the steps. Loki’s head dropped back, his eyes closing as he pulled in a deep breath.

“(Y/N) and Nat are going to kill all of us if he messes this up for Wanda,” Loki groaned, running a hand through his short hair.

“Don’t remind me,” I grumbled, rubbing my temples. Seeing Wanda glaring at us from behind the stage, I winced, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ before dragging Loki towards the crowd. I pushed Loki towards his seat across from (Y/N), plopping into the chair behind Loki across from Steve. Clint and Nat’s table was in front of us; Clint turned around, raising an eyebrow at Loki and me.

“I take it by the look on your face that Vision isn’t any better,” Steve whispered.

“No, and Wanda was not happy,” I sighed, bracing my elbows on the table. I lifted my head to talk again, but Dottie hurried onto the stage, drawing everyone’s attention.

“I want to thank you all for coming out to support Westview Elementary. For the children.” Dottie smiled, waiting for the crowd to respond.

“For the children,” the audience chorused. I shot a look at Steve, raising my eyebrow but caught the same fearful look on Steve’s face. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing (Y/N) fidget in her seat, and peek at Nat, who was picking at the tablecloth.

“What the hell?” Loki whispered over his shoulder to me.

“I second that,” Clint mumbles, leaning back in his chair.

“We were about to ask you two the same thing,” Steve added. Dottie drew our attention back to the stage, but I couldn’t ignore the somersaults my stomach was doing.

“And for our final act... I give you, Wanda and Vision.” I sucked in a deep breath, noticing Loki, Steve, and Clint doing the same thing as Wanda walked on stage.

“What’s wrong?” I faintly heard (Y/N) ask Loki.

“I’m going to say this: it was not our fault,” Loki whispers back. I anxiously waited for Vision to walk out, but nothing happened for a few seconds, and Wanda was looking tenser; suddenly, Vision threw the curtains open.

“Oh! Yeah! I've got to go! Hello, Westview! Good afternoon. It's so lovely to be…” -Vision knocked his hip into the railing of the steps- “I'm so sorry. Excuse me. I am Glamour, and this is my delightful assistant, Illusion.” Vision’s words slurred together as he swayed in place, lazily gesturing to Wanda.

“I am Glamour, and he's Illusion,” Wanda corrected, exaggerating her voice, playing the part.

“Yeah, what she said. Today, we will lie to you, and yet you will believe our little deceptions because human beings are easily fooled due to their limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe.” Vision shrugged, flopping his hands to the side in front of him. “Flourish!” Vision pulled one hand pack, facing his other palm towards the crowd like he was shooting something from his palm. I dropped my head onto the table with a dense thud, resisting the urge to do it again.

“We’re dead,” Loki stated.

“Yep,” I mumbled.

“It was nice knowing you,” Steve huffed.

“You just do it; you don't say it out loud, honey,” my enhanced hearing picked up on Wanda’s whisper and Vision’s scoff.

“And now my wife and I will delight you in your dumbstruck little faces. Flourish!” Vision bellowed. I lifted my head just in time to see Vision starting to fly, a pleased, drunk-looking smile on his face. The audience around us began to gasp except for the six of us; Loki, (Y/N), Clint, Nat, Steve, and I all tensed, staring wide-eyed at the stage.

“We need to help her!” (Y/N) harshly whispered to Loki, starting to stand.

“Wait,” Loki shot back. Suddenly a pulley system appear, connected to the back of Vision pants; I let out the air I was holding in as I watched Vision now dangling in midair.

“Ha! See there? He's using a rope,” Norm shouted from somewhere in the audience. Wanda giggled, moving the sign from in front of the pulley; she started to move the crank, smiling brightly.

“Wanda, what's... Oh, no! Oh! No! Wanda, please! Darling, let me down!” Vision shouted, flailing. “I’m feeling pukey!” I couldn’t help but laugh along with the crowd, momentarily forgetting the issue. “Ooh!” Wanda finally let Vision down, who stumbled a little, trying to regain the little composure he had.

“Maybe this won’t be too bad,” I chuckled.

“Uh, what's next? Oh! Yeah, this is... This is gonna be great!” Vision got excited, hurrying towards the piano, a goofy smile spreading across his face. “A staggering feat of strength!” I nearly choked on my spit when Vision lifted the piano, making noises to encourage the audience as he smiled, proud of himself.

“Illusion... Uh... Uh... Illusion, Master of Enigma, allow me,” Wanda called, hurrying towards her husband. My eyes widened, and I heard Steve gasp when Wanda took the piano from Vision; Wanda turned to the side, showing the audience that it was only board, giggling and winking at the crowd.

“Whoops! You weren't supposed to see how we did that trick,” Wanda joked, wiggling her hips. I felt something bounce off the back of my head; I turned around to see (Y/N) glaring at me.

“You are so lucky our friend can think on her feet!” she scolded, continuing to glare at me. I dipped my head to hide the embarrassment blooming on my face; Loki, Clint, and Steve all sported a similar expression. I tensed again when Vision hopped off the stage before Wanda could turn around again, making a beeline for Herb.

“Oh, Sherbert! Yeah, this is my old mate, Sherbert. Stand up, Sherbert,” Vision bellowed, hurrying to where Herb stood, confused. “Say hello to the crowd!”

“It's Herbert, er- Herb,” he corrected, eyeing Vision suspiciously.

“Dear God,” Loki mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Pipe down, Sherbie, and pick a card. Any card. Yeah, put it back in the deck. I'm not looking,” Vision urged, holding the deck of cards out. Herb pulled a card out, looks at it then placing it back in the deck so that Vision could shuffle them. “All right. Watch this,” Vision quipped, smiling. Vision pulled a card, showing it to Herb with a pleased look on his face. “Is this your card?”

“Uh, no,” Herb mumbled.

“I beg to differ,” Vision slurred. Herb shook his head ‘no’ only making Vision irritated. Vision started pulling cards out, asking if it was Herb’s card, and none of them were; panic shot through me when Vision’s hand started moving faster, too fast for human eyes to keep up with. Vision made it to the last card, holding it out to Herb, clearly annoyed. “Is this your card?”

“Oh, it is!” Herb exclaims with a smile.

“Can’t get much worse, right?” Loki whispers, leaning his chair on two legs to get closer to me.

“Please don’t say that I’m begging you,” I groaned.

“They’re almost done, Buck. It can’t get much worse,” Steve tried to reassure me. I looked back at the stage to see Vision stumbling onto the stage.

“And now, for my next trick...” Vision reached up for his hat that was sitting turned over on the stage, missing the rabbit inside.

“Oh goodness me,” Wanda mumbled, watching her husband.

“Who stole my hat? Oh! Oh, stop that rabbit! I gotta pull a hat out of it!” Vision starts for the rabbit, but Wanda had beat him to it, holding the animal to her chest.

“Maybe we leave the poor bunny out of this one, shall we?” Wanda pleaded. Vision seemed to agree before his face lit up, and he bent down to pick up his hat.

“Well then, I will just have to pull this hat... out of myself,” Vision giggled, holding the hat in front of his stomach.

“Damnit, Loki,” I growled, bracing my elbows on my knees, cradling my head in my hands.

“In my defense, I didn’t see that coming,” Loki mumbled back. The audience gasped around us as Vision phased the hat through his body, yelling in triumph after doing it.

“How many more tricks do they have left?” Clint called over his shoulder.

“One,” (Y/N) ground out, her jaw clenched.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for our grand finale, I bring you, The Magnet of Crysteries!” Vision yelled, throwing his arms out.

“The Cabinet of Mysteries!” Wanda corrected, gesturing to the box that rolled onto the stage.

“Yeah, yeah. What she said. I will now make my wife... disappear.” Vision opened the doors to the cabinet, showing the crowd that it was empty but closed them before Wanda could get in; I watched her head drop slightly, sighing.

“Are you sure you don't want an audience volunteer named ‘My husband Ralph?’” Agnes called from the crowd. I shot a dirty look her way, glaring at the back of her head, noticing the rest of my friends shooting her similar looks; Wanda must have seen because she covered a laugh, turning her face away.

“No. Abracadabra!” Vision laughed, hitting a magic wand into the door, reminding me of a child.

“Uh, sweetheart?” Wanda chuckled.

“Yeah?”

“Hi…”

“Oh,” Vision mumbled, looking back at the cabinet where Wanda was supposed to be. After a few seconds, people in the crowd started yelling, ‘what’s in the box?’ and I could visibly see the irritation on Wanda’s face. “Yeah, what’s in the box?” Vision asked Wanda, his face scrunching in confusion. Wanda took a deep breath, and they open the door to reveal another woman I didn’t remember meeting.

“Geraldine?” I heard Nat mumble, raising an eyebrow. Wanda, Vision, and the woman Geraldine bowed as the crowd cheered and clapped for them.

“Let’s get outta here!” Vision yells, running off the stage. Wanda closed her eyes momentarily, and then her gaze landed in our general direction when they opened again, glaring before hurrying after Vision.

“Up. Now,” (Y/N) growled, her gaze moving between Clint, Loki, Steve, and me. Nat stood next to her, her arms crossed over her chest as she took turns glaring at each of us. All four of us flinch before standing; our heads bowed as we followed the girls backstage. The six of us made it to the bottom of the steps in time to hear Vision talking.

“Ah, I'm not as funny without it, am I?” he grumbled, sounding disappointed.

“Not really,” Clint snorted, earning a smack on the back of the head from Nat. Clint yelped and quickly moving to rub the back of his head.

“Wanda,” (Y/N) called, hurrying up the steps with Nat on her tail. “We’re so sorry. The boys are idiots.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda sighed. “They couldn’t have known, but Vision should’ve known better.” Wanda shot Vision a look, and he dipped his head, trying to avoid the wrath of his wife. “Don’t blame them,” Wanda assured them, pulling them into a hug.

“Let’s get out of here before anyone says anything,” (Y/N) urged, shooing Vision towards the four of us. The eight of us clustered together, hurrying down the sideway, trying to avoid anyone catching us.

“You two, stop right there,” Dottie called from the stage, pointing at Wanda and Vision.

“Go!” Wanda whispered, shooing the rest of us. (Y/N) grabbed mine and Loki’s hands while Nat grabbed Steve and Clint, dragging us across the street, back towards our homes. The walk was eerily silent; Nat and (Y/N) dropped the hands they had and were walking with their arms linked. Steve, Loki, Clint, and I exchanged worried glances periodically, waiting for the explosion.

“You boys are lucky,” (Y/N) called over her shoulder. I searched her face for any trace of anger or irritation, and surprisingly I didn’t find any.

“It didn’t turn out that bad,” I tried, bracing for anything.

“It was quite funny,” Nat pointed out, looking at (Y/N).

“Okay, are we in trouble?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Wanda’s not mad, so you boys got lucky,” Nat giggled.

“But you four need to pay more attention to your friend!” (Y/N) scolded, looking over her shoulder at the four of us. “He’s a machine; he doesn’t really know how to be human,” she whispered. The girls stop in front of the Barton house, turning to face us; the four of us shuffled in place, each mumbling an apology.

“Come on, birdie,” Nat giggled, reaching a hand for Clint. Clint rolled his eyes, shaking his head but clapped a hand on Loki and Steve’s shoulders and smacked my back before grabbing her outstretched hand.

“Later, boys,” Clint called, saluting us as Nat pulling him towards the house. When Nat and Clint disappeared, Steve, Loki, (Y/N), and I walked across the street, stopping between our homes.

“Let’s go home, trickster,” (Y/N) sighed, snaking an arm around his waist.

“See you tomorrow, boys,” Loki said with a slight nod. Steve and I waved before heading for our door; I gestured Steve through and closed the door behind me, slumping against it.

“That was a train wreck,” I sighed, scrubbing at my face.

“That’s an understatement,” Steve groaned, throwing his upper body over the back of the couch. “Thank god it’s over now.” I pushed off the door, my eyes raking over the curve of his behind as I walked towards him; I positioned my pelvis behind him, leaning into him.

“James,” his warning muffled by the couch cushions.

“Mm, you’re not helping,” I growled, resting my hands on his hips. Steve pushed himself up again, so his back was flush with my chest. “This is your fault,” I chuckled darkly into the shell of his ear.

“No, you’re just insatiable,” Steve snorted, relaxing into me. My eyes slid shut as I started to sway, wrapping my arms around his waist, moving Steve with me, humming against his throat as we moved together.

“You got me there,” I mumbled against his skin. We swayed to nonexistent music for a couple of minutes until I started to get greedy, pulling him tighter against me. Steve huffed out a laugh, spinning in my arms despite my protest.

“I need a shower; care to join?” Steve whispered, cupping my face so I would meet his eyes. I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds before groaning again, slowly opening them; I jumped back, bile burning at the back of my throat when I saw Steve’s face again. Steve wore an unfamiliar uniform with a large star on the chest, and his left eye was swollen almost shut, and there was a small cut below that eye which was bleeding. Another cut started at the corner of his mouth on the right side, his lip was busted, and a nasty cut curved over the top of his right eyebrow. ( x ) My chest constricted, making it harder to pull air into my lungs as my eyes flickered over his face; a crippling wave of panic and guilt tore through me. I choke on a sob as I stumbled into the wall next to the steps, tears clouding my vision. “Bucky?” Steve begging, stepping closer.

“No!” I cried, trying to move away from him. Somehow I knew this was my fault, I did this, I hurt Steve, but I had no idea what happened or what I did to him. I sobbed loudly again, sliding down the wall, covering my face with my hands; my body shook as I tried to make sense of the situation. I flinched when I felt Steve’s hand on my wrists.

“Bucky, please!” Steve begged, pulling on my hands. He managed to pull my hands away, and when I opened my tear-filled eyes to look at Steve, I blanched; Steve looked fine again, his skin was smooth with no dried blood, and he was wearing his dark sweater. I grabbed the sides of my head, crying out when a sharp pain exploded through my head; I cowered against the wall as the pain pulsed through my brain. “Bucky,” Steve cried, sounding desperate. As quickly as the pain started, it stopped, leaving me shaken; I tentatively looked up at Steve again, cringing at the tear stains on his cheeks.

“Steve,” I croaked.

“What just happened?” Steve blurted, cupping my face.

“I-I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m scared, Steve.” Tears pooled in my eyes again, and I buried my face into Steve’s chest. We sat on the floor, clutching each other until I could talk again and try to explain everything to Steve, but the memory quickly faded.

Chapter 6 | Series Masterlist

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@marvelfansworld @imagine-yourself-happy @lovelokiqueen @neenieweenie @shadowolf993 @alluringshawn @somegeekychic

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skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years ago

Text

Coming Up Easy - The First Dance

You can also check this out on AO3!!

Michael reclined in bed against the pillows he’d stacked against the wall so he could read his phone, drink a beer, and be semi-comfortable. It’d been a long, long day and he was having trouble winding down from it. He’d put on one of Isobel’s Spotify playlists on random while he dicked around on his phone. He knew what he wanted to do. He’d been scrolling through his photo’s gallery for ten minutes staring at the few pictures he had of them together. He wished he had more. He was pointedly trying to stay out of the private file he had that definitely showed more of them together because he’d been visiting that file way too often since Alex had moved.

Finishing his beer, Michael chucked the empty bottle into the trash and opened a new one. Feeling daring, he shot Alex a text.

Me 10:02 p.m. >> You up?

Alex 10:03 p.m. >> I am. In fact, I’m cooking.

Me 10:05 p.m. >> I call bullshit. You hate cooking.

<<Alex is requesting a video chat session: Accept?>>

Biting his lip, Michael had a second to wonder how he was going to look before saying ‘Fuck it’ and pushing his thumb against the accept key. Alex’s face filled his phone screen and Michael would be lying to say his heart didn’t flutter a little at the sight of his slightly red, smiling face.

“Oh my God, I missed your face,” Alex said without preamble. Michael found himself smiling despite himself.

“Yeah? Need me to send you pictures daily?” Michael teased.

“No, I don’t want to get spoiled. This is a treat for me. I’ve been looking at strangers for weeks now,” Alex replied. Michael was trying not to stare because Alex looked so good and it just made Michael want to go over to his place and tackle him against the refrigerator. He couldn’t though. That sort of thing would take planning and plane tickets and passports and so much more work than it did a month ago. Sighing to himself, Michael tried to keep the conversation flowing.

“Any cute ones?” Michael asked, kicking himself immediately. Alex’s eyebrows drew together for a moment before he wiped the expression away.

“Uh, not yet. I’ll probably have to get on a dating app or something to really meet people,” Alex replied awkwardly, smile turning brittle as he spoke. Faintly, Michael could hear music in the background of Alex’s kitchen.

“So what are you listening to while you cook? And what are you cooking? You burned a peanut butter and jelly sandwich once!” Michael exclaimed, eyes flitting around the screen trying to see behind Alex’s head. Alex rolled his eyes, but his smile was more genuine.

“I’m listening to that new Miley Cyrus song “Can't Stop”. Have you heard it?” Alex asked, moving closer to his Bluetooth speaker and turning up the volume so Michael could listen in.

“No, I haven’t. I’ll have to listen to it later, sounds good,” Michael commented. Alex was closing his eyes and the phone was swaying like he was dancing to the music.

“Oh shit, I’m going to put you down on the counter. I gotta stir,” Alex exclaimed a moment later and suddenly Michael could see much more of Alex’s apartment kitchen and of Alex himself. He was wearing his old MCR t-shirt they’d spent one night turning into a tank top and sweatpants. The large, gaping armholes showed off the hint of muscle on his back and chest and made Michael’s mouth water and his entire body ache with want to touch him. He watched Alex grab a spatula and start stirring it around a frying pan, hips still moving with the beat of the song as he concentrated. Michael had to clear his voice as his mouth went suddenly dry at the visual of those hips in action. Alex had always been good with rhythm, but being best friends with Liz had also given him a swivel to his dancing style that was frankly indecent.

“So, uh, what are you cooking?” Michael asked again, trying not to get too mesmerized by Alex dancing and mouthing the words to the song into the end of the spatula when he wasn’t stirring.

“Stirfry. Something so basic even I can’t fuck it up, hopefully,” Alex joked. He picked the phone up so he could turn the camera for Michael to look in the pan. Looked like soggy frozen veggies mixed with overcooked chicken in something that might’ve been brown sauce.

“Looks great,” Michael lied as Alex put the phone back down. Alex looked at him for a moment and started laughing.

“Okay, it looks like dog vomit, but it’ll be edible. Someone never taught me how to cook, despite being excellent at it,” Alex joked, giving Michael a dirty look through the phone. Fuck, Michael wanted to kiss that look off his face.

“I was trying to make my friendship indispensable to you. Apparently, I failed since you moved to another country and left me to languish in the desert alone and lonely,” Michael said dramatically. Alex barked out another laugh before turning back to the pan and shaking his head down at it. He moved it off the heating element and flipped the dial. Michael watched him as he bent over and settled on his elbows in front of the phone. He looked… well, Michael was glad his own camera was facing front.

“You’re indispensable to me no matter what, even without the cooking lessons. Just you wait, you’ll come up here for a visit and soon I’ll have a roommate,” Alex joked.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael retorted as another song came on. The song immediately sent him back to a small, dusty shed that smelled like sweat, metal, wood, and damp cotton. He could feel Alex’s warm hands on his hips nudging him to shift with the beat to the left and right while they both stared at his bare feet.

“Is this….?” Michael started but stopped as he became sure that it was. Alex had been looking over his shoulder towards the speaker and when Michael spoke up, he turned back to the phone. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked sheepish.

“Yeah, this is Hellogoodbye. Remembering the same thing I am?” Alex asked, looking at Michael nervously through the phone. Michael let his head fall back against the wall behind him and he took a long pull from his beer before answering.

“Yeah, I think so. You teaching me to dance for prom?” Michael asked, not looking at the phone but hearing Alex clear his voice.

“Yeah, that,” he answered, voice subdued. They fell into silence and Michael had no doubt they were both trapped in a shared memory.

“I don’t even want to go to prom. I’ve managed to miss every other dance in high school, I don’t see why Isobel is so insistent I go to this one!” Michael raged, walking the length of the Mane’s shed back and forth while Alex watched from the futon. They were both shirtless and slightly sweaty, only partially dressed after their makeout and hand job session. Alex was leaned over with his elbows on his knees watching Michael warily.

“It’s just a dance, Michael. Go if it’ll make her happy. I’m going, you can come hang out with me,” Alex said, tone slightly exasperated. He’d been listening to Michael bitch about Isobel’s insistence for him to go to prom for a week already and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Michael stopped and looked at him, arms raised and expression clearing asking ‘Are you actually agreeing with her?!’. Alex just kept looking at him blankly. ‘Yes,’ his expression replied. ‘I’m agreeing with her.’ With a defeated sigh, Michael let his arms drop suddenly and slap against his sides.

“I don’t even know how to dance,” he mumbled, almost too low for Alex to hear him. Alex gave him a complicated look, somewhere between amusement and pity.

“That’s easy enough to fix. I can teach you that much,” Alex replied, standing up.

“What? No, I don’t want to know! It’s just going to be weird. I’m not going to have anything to do except stand around and drink punch. It’s going to be expensive and lame,” Michael whined, even as he watched Alex go over to his iPod and put it into the stereo he’d brought out to the shed. He ignored Michael’s protests and found a song with an easily recognizable beat. It started up, sounding poppy and electronic, and Michael rolled his eyes. Alex caught him at it.

“Hey, this is going to be easy. Quit being such an ass about it,” Alex griped, coming to stand in front of Michael. He placed his hands on Michael’s hips and looked him straight in the eyes. “Okay. Just follow my movements. Right now we’re just finding the beat.”

Michael swallowed and nodded, throat suddenly dry at the feeling of Alex being close to him and semi-nude and touching him. It seemed Alex put him on a hair-trigger to want sex. With a gentle push and pull, Alex moved Michael and himself back and forth until they were swaying with the beat.

“Okay, this is literally the most basic form of slow dancing. It’s just swaying from side to side. Put your hands on my shoulders and just keep following me,” Alex instructed. Michael raised his arms and lazily draped his arms over Alex’s shoulders like he’d seen every girl do in every teen movie ever. He’d rolled his eyes again as he did it and Alex pinched his side for his sass. “I’m doing you a favor, dipshit. Be nice.”

“Ow! Fine, fine. I’ll be nice. Now what?” Michael asked as they continued to sway. It felt so weird to be standing there in Alex’s shed just shifting his weight back and forth. Without warning, Alex began to pull Michael’s body closer to him while he moved back too. Michael stumbled a little, his foot stepping on the one Alex had kept still.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t explain. That’s my bad,” Alex apologized once they’d untangled themselves. He grabbed Michael’s hips again and began the original swaying. Once they’d gotten back in rhythm with the song, Alex tried to explain. “So we’re going to basically be moving in a box. Whoever’s leading, so me this time, is always outlining the box with their movements while whoever’s following, you, is tracing the inside of the box.”

Michael gave him a confused look. Making a discontent noise, Alex stepped close until his stomach and hips were resting against Michael’s. Michael gave him a wide-eyed look, wondering if Alex had decided to save dancing for later and more fucking for now…

“Close your eyes,” Alex ordered. Michael closed them obediently, waiting for the gentle pressure of Alex’s lips against his. Instead, Alex continued talking. “Now follow my lead.”

Michael felt the pull of Alex’s body to the right and he instinctually followed. Then Alex moved him backward. It threw Michael off for a second, but then he felt the gentle pressure of Alex’s left leg pressing against his right and he moved that leg back. Then they glided to the left and then Alex was pulling Michael forward. This time he felt which of Alex’s legs was staying still and which was moving away and followed suit. They did this two more times before he felt Alex’s breath by his ear.

“This is a box step. You’re dancing,” he whispered. Despite the heat of the spring day which baked against the poorly insulated shed walls, Michael felt goosebumps break out along his shoulders and chest at the feeling of Alex’s breath against his ear. Opening his eyes, he pulled back to look at Alex’s face and immediately stepped wrong and made them stumble.

“Damnit!” Michael yelled, dropping his arms.

“No, Michael. It’s fine. It just takes practice,” Alex consoled.

“I’m just not made for dancing,” Michael grouched, turning away and taking a few steps to put space between them. The song changed to some other top 100 pop slow jam, and after a minute he felt Alex hook his chin over one of his shoulders and press his chest to Michael’s back. His arms wrapped around Michael’s crossed ones and he immediately started swaying them again.

“You are. Dancing isn’t so different from fucking. It’s about tempo and rhythm and matching or counterpointing movements. You’re great at fucking, you could be good at dancing,” Alex said quietly. He started kissing Michael’s neck and shoulder intently and heat started to pool in Michael’s gut at the feeling of Alex pressing against him and moving slowly. “Maybe you can dance with me at prom and I’ll make sure you don’t make a fool of yourself?”

“You want to dance with me at prom? Isn’t that a bit… public?” Michael asked. He didn’t really mind it being public, but he didn’t want Alex to say something and not realize the consequences.

“We’ll be out of here in a couple months anyway. Fuck ‘em if they can’t hang, right?” Alex said, voice tight behind his teasing tone.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll dance with you at prom then,” Michael replied easily. He turned his head and Alex kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good friend. I wouldn’t have anyone to dance with either without you,” Alex said. Michael’s heart ached against his ribs, but he nodded anyway.

“We didn’t get to dance at prom,” Alex said simply when the silence stretched.

“No, you had to go get into a fight with Valenti before I could get in from pictures with Iz and Max,” Michael agreed.

“Wish we had,” Alex replied, sounding wistful.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael agreed. The silence was sad now and he hated it. Michael tried to think of something to say. Clearing his throat, he went with the first thing that came to his mind. “So you adding rice to that stirfry or something?”

“Uh, I was going to just get some like minute rice and dump it on top when I reheated this,” Alex explained. Michael grimaced and Alex laughed.

“Jerk,” Alex said, but a smile was back on his face.

“Just let me know if you end up in the hospital with food poisoning. I’ll send you flowers,” Michael replied with a grin.

“Ugh, shut UP! It’s fine!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing a fork from a drawer and scooping up some onto it. “See?!”

He put it in his mouth and Michael waited. He saw him grimace and chew slowly.

“So good, right?” Michael teased.

“It’s fine,” Alex said after swallowing. Michael waited, Alex and he looked at each other through the screen, before Alex grimaced and then stood up abruptly. “UGH, FINE! It’s gross!”

Michael chuckled.

“Poor baby,” Michael cooed. Alex flipped him off but laughed along with him.

“Yeah, poor me. Well, shit. Now I have to clean all this up and I have nothing to show for it,” Alex groused. Michael watched him rub his hands over his face in frustration and stare at the pan of ruined food.

“Going to try again?” Michael asked. Alex looked over at him and shook his head.

“No. I gotta get to bed. It’s already late. This was just kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision anyway,” Alex replied morosely.

“Hey, you’ll get it next time. Just call me and I’ll walk you through it on video,” Michael offered. Alex sighed and nodded.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed. “Well, I better get to bed. It was nice seeing your face.”

“It was good seeing yours. Miss you,” Michael said before he could chicken out.

“Miss you too. Night,” Alex said with a smile.

“Night,” Michael replied before the call ended. He took a deep sigh and set his phone down on his chest before taking a sip of his lukewarm beer.

Damn, he missed that fucker.

#coming up easy #CUE update #wip wednesday #malex wip #malex

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seasonofthewicth · 4 years ago

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 14

AN: I hope you all enjoy!! This was fun to write...

masterlist - ao3

Dr Sam Cortland stood tall with a mop of curly brown hair drooping across his forehead. He had a charmingly crooked smile, with rows of shining white teeth on display, that he flashed her as he breezed past Aelin to gently pick up Fenrys’ hand. His elegant fingers drew Fenrys’ arm up and into the light, twisting it around to get a better look.

Fenrys was looking at her pointedly, and Aelin knew exactly what he would say the minute the doctor left the room. He was boyishly handsome, young for an ER doctor, and his brown eyes had a twinkling kind of mischief in them, despite the focus he directed at Fenrys’ hand.

The skill with which he sewed the wound in Fenrys’ hand was impressive, and he made easy conversation while he did it, but she had left most of the task of conversing to Fenrys, only speaking when it would have been impolite to stay silent. She could easily recognise that he was attractive. Six months ago she might have slipped him her number, but now all she could think of was Rowan.

All she could think of was how the doctor was slighter than Rowan, how his hair was dark where Rowan’s was a beautiful shade of silver. At the sight of his deep, brown eyes she could only compare them to the bright, forest green of Rowan’s.

“It’s worse than it looks. A couple of little stitches will sort it out.” The doctor turned to Aelin, drawing her attention back to him. His accent was pleasant; something she couldn’t quite place with a mix of the harsh Rifthold twang. “I’m sure you’ve been very worried about your boyfriend, but he’ll be good as new in no time.”

Fenrys snorted, an obnoxious sound that drew the doctor’s attention back to him and away from where Aelin gawped.

“My boyfriend?” She mumbled dumbly.

“Thanks Doctor, but-” Fenrys spoke quickly before he was interrupted.

“Please,” He said with an easy smile directed at Aelin. “Call me Sam.”

Fenrys reached a hand towards her with a twinkle in his eye, “Ah Sam, if only Aelin had wanted me, what a power couple we could have been. But don’t worry, she is single.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, what was he playing at?

“Good to hear.” Her gaze snapped back to the doctor. His voice was quiet as he spoke, and a soft pink tint spread across the strip of neck that stood above the collar of his clean, white coat.

Aelin was floundering, good to hear? Where had that come from, and where was her response?

The doctor, Sam, spoke again before she had a chance to find the words. “I just have to check these papers, then I’ll be back to discharge you.”

He gave her a small, closed-lipped smile as he left the room. One she almost didn’t manage to return.

As soon as the door closed behind him Fenrys was on her.

“What was that Galathynius?” He demanded. “He was flirting with you and I don’t think you actually spoke!”

“He wasn’t flirting with me,” She said quickly.

“Aelin please.” He leaned towards her, his voice pleading. “That was a hot doctor, do I need to repeat? A doctor. Who is hot, and flirting with you.”

“Stop,” She said.

“What’s the hold up?” He asked, seemingly unable to comprehend a reason Aelin wouldn't be as excited as he was.

She took a breath. The hold up, she supposed, was Rowan. She still hadn’t had a chance to speak with him since their kiss, and so, she still wasn’t sure where they stood.

Well, she didn’t know where he stood. She knew she wanted to leave this hospital and forget all about the hot doctor and go home to the guy she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for months.

Shit, she wanted Rowan.

She laughed, a soft sigh of a sound, and turned to Fenrys who was still waiting on her response. She didn’t want to blurt out her reasoning for dismissing the doctor, Sam, she reminded herself again, until she had spoken to Rowan. She didn’t want to gush about their kiss to Fenrys only to find out he regretted it.

“Nothing, no hold up.” She rose from her chair. “I’ll go get us a ride home, meet you outside when he comes to let you out?”

Fenrys nodded as she fled.

“Hello?” His voice came out sounding far rougher than he had intended, and Rowan cleared his throat as Aelin spoke.

“Hi. Are you busy?”

Rowan blinked and sat up straight. He saw Aedion throw him a curious glance and he shook his head. Lorcan’s eyes remained shut despite the jostling and Rowan was convinced he had been asleep for a while.

“No, what’s up?” He asked.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to her, quite the opposite in fact, he had spent far more time than he should have thinking of opportunities he could find to seek her out, but he was unsure why she would be calling him now. Especially if she was out with Fenrys.

“I was going to ask for a ride,” She said, and he could hear the cheer in her voice already. “But now speaking to you I wonder if you’re safe to drive, you drank quite a bit last night.”

She finished with a laugh that Rowan couldn’t help but return.

“I didn’t drink that much.”

“No?” She asked, teasing him. “So you always sing like that?”

“There was no singing.” That Rowan remembered at least. “Was there?”

“I don’t know.” He could hear the opening and closing of a door and the sound of a siren in the background of her call. “Ask Elide, I think she has the video.”

Rowan bit his lip, he was pretty sure she was joking, there was no way he had drank that much. Despite her jokes being at his expense, he was enjoying the teasing and the brightness in her voice. He couldn't help the goofy smile he knew was dawning across his face, and he determinedly ignored the look Aedion still watched him with.

“I know you’re a liar,” He said and the giggle he received was incredible. “I didn’t drink so much I did anything I wouldn’t have done sober,” He continued, and from the soft catch in her breath he knew she caught his meaning.

“Oh, good. Me too,” Aelin said softly, and Rowan couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

They still hadn’t spoken about the kiss, but they would, Rowan would make sure of it. And if Aelin’s reaction to his comment was anything to go by, Rowan had hope.

“Where do you need picking up from?” He finally made his way back to the reason she had called him.

“We’re at the hospital, Rifthold General-”

Rowan cut her off. “The hospital? Are you alright?”

He knew it was rude, and nothing so far in their conversation had told him Aelin was anything other than fine, but the panic in his chest at her words had shocked him in its speed and intensity.

“I’m fine,” There was a trace of laughter still in her voice. “It’s Fenrys, he’s just cut his hand, he’s fine.”

Rowan could feel guilty about the relief that filled him at another time.

“Oh,” He knew she heard the relief, but kindly didn’t comment. “I can be there in twenty?”

“Thank you!” She cried, and again, Rowan knew the smile he wore was disgusting.

He tapped the screen, ending the call, before he finally turned to Aedion.

“Who’s at the hospital?” His friend’s voice was all too innocent.

Rowan narrowed his eyes at the unspoken accusation. It was right, but he wasn’t at the point of admitting that to Aedion yet. At least not until he had spoken to Aelin.

Rowan thought the oath they had all sworn was pretty much redundant now, he knew Aedion only had the best intentions mixed with a rogue streak of overprotectiveness, but Rowan had no intention of hurting Aelin. And Aedion knew that, at least Rowan thought.

“Aelin and Fenrys.”

“They okay?” Aedion seemed to be feeling some genuine concern.

Rowan nodded as he stood from the couch.

“Good,” Aedion spoke as he settled back into the sofa next to a still sleeping Lorcan, the man could sleep through anything. Rowan shook his head and headed to grab his keys.

The hospital wasn’t far from the loft, and he crossed this distance at a more reasonable pace than he would have done had Aelin been hurt. He and Aedion were the only two in the loft with cars, there wasn’t a need for them in the city, nor was there space to park. The loft came with one space in an underground parking garage, which Aedion took with the argument that Rowan’s car was a piece of shit and far less valuable than his own.

Which it was. But it had been a gift from his parents after his graduation from college, and it still ran, so he kept it. It turned out to be useful in times like these.

Rowan found a space quickly and made his way to the entrance of the emergency department. He spotted Aelin quickly once he had passed through the doors. Gods, she was beautiful.

He took her in from head to toe before finally drawing his eyes up again to rest on her face and the polite smile she wore. The curve to her pink lips was enticing, and he wanted to press his own lips to hers again. He thought she would let him, and a bloom of excitement appeared in his stomach.

Aelin turned slightly towards him, and the intensity of her smile only increased when she spotted him. He felt his own grow without a thought and took a step towards her when an arm was slung across his shoulders.

“Thanks for coming to get us man, I didn't think I could have walked with this.” Fenrys held a bandaged hand up in front of Rowan, blocking his view of Aelin.

Rowan lifted an arm to gently lower Fenrys’ hand. “You’re alright I see, what happened?”

Fenrys laughed, “It’s a story with any number of twists and turns and a negligent supermarket. You could probably sue them for me.” Fenrys’ voice took an imaginative turn. “But I’m all good, the hot doctor stitched me up.”

“The hot doctor?” Rowan regretted the question the moment it was asked, but the regret only increased when Fenrys lifted his injured hand to point over to where Aelin stood.

Rowan hadn’t noticed the man she stood with, and wished he still hadn’t. The guy was handsome, Rowan wasn’t blind, and he had his charm turned up to the max as he spoke with Aelin.

His eyes snapped to Aelin, attempting to get a read on her thoughts on the hot doctor, but he didn’t gain much. She only wore a small smile as she nodded along to whatever the doctor was saying. Her hands were in her pockets, and she removed one to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

Rowan swallowed. He knew Fenrys clocked the movement.

“Hot right?” Rowan rolled his eyes, finally dragging them away from Aelin and the doctor to shoot Fenrys a glare. “And he’s definitely into her.”

Rowan stiffened even further, but Fenrys continued.

“She should go for it,” Rowan took a deep breath at the words. “Unless there was a reason for her not to.”

Rowan released the breath in a big gust. “Why would there be a reason for her not to?” He managed at last.

Fenrys was the joker of their group of friends, always the one to lighten it up if conversation ever got heavy, not that it often did between them. He seemed to have an endless supply of shit jokes that by now Rowan and Lorcan had built up a resistance to, but now he faced Rowan with a serious look.

“I’m just saying, she barely paid attention to the doctor in the room, even though he tried to get her attention more than once.”

“Yeah?” He shouldn’t have bitten, and a spark of the usual cunning in Fenrys’ eyes returned, but he needed to know.

“You know what I’d tell the guy who clearly holds her attention at the moment?” Rowan looked back over to where Aelin had snuck a glance over to the two of them. “I’d tell him not to waste his time, or the next time a hot doctor calls she might not ignore him.”

Rowan swallowed, and shoved his hands deeply into his pockets. Aelin turned back to the doctor, said a few final words, and turned on her heel to head over towards him and Fenrys.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said finally, and Fenrys sighed, but didn’t say another word as Aelin approached.

“Hey,” She said with a shy smile. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” Rowan said quickly, ignoring the jab Fenrys stabbed into his side.

He was going to talk to Aelin, he didn’t need Fenrys giving him any advice, the most romance Rowan had seen him experience was whatever he had going on with Aelin’s co-worker, and Rowan still doubted that that had come to anything yet.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked and watched Aelin send a barely perceptible glance to where the doctor had last stood, but then she turned back to him and smiled.

“Ready.”

Doctor Sam had been sweet, if not somewhat fumbling, when he had slipped her his number before they left the hospital. It had only been chance that Rowan had walked through the double doors of the emergency department the moment he had handed the card over, and she knew he had caught the smile she had worn at the sight of Rowan.

He had courteously backed off, telling her not to worry about it. I get it, he had said with a soft smile, if it doesn’t work out give me a call. Aelin doubted she would ever use the number, doubted the card it was scrawled across would see the light of day again. Especially not if her plan worked out in her favour.

She had picked this nightgown for a reason. It was a shimmering and glittering metallic gold silk that flowed loosely from the thin straps across her shoulders. It clung to her chest and hips, dipping low and emphasising the gentle curves of her body and the dip of her waist.

She was independent enough to know she never needed to dress for a man, but damn if she hadn’t worn this specifically for Rowan. She craved the reaction she knew this nightgown would elicit.

She padded through to the living room, but the worn brown sofa was empty with the television switched off. Rowan had been here a minute ago. She curled her hands into fists, she didn’t want to lose her nerve, and continued through to the kitchen.

She could hear the sound of water as she rounded the corner and spotted his frame hunched over the sink.

He was ready for bed as she was, loose grey pants hung from his hips and a faded green t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. The shifting of the muscles in his back could be seen through the material as he moved at the sink and she swallowed.

His head snapped to the side at the sound as she leaned against the doorway.

His eyes widened at the sight of her and she registered the clink of a dish against the steel sink. He spun to face her and water dropped down from his fists where they clenched at his sides.

“Hey,” she murmured.

He swallowed, and the sound was audible in the silence of the room.

She watched him take one, very careful, sweep of his eyes down her body and she felt her cheeks blush and her muscles clench under the intensity of his stare.

Rowan seemed to be frozen, his expression almost pained, and his mouth hung slightly open as he took her in. His eyes snapped to hers, their green almost black in the shadows, and didn’t stray from her as he reached to the side for a towel to dry his hands.

“Aelin,” He said, his voice low as she took a step further into the room. “I, um-”

He swallowed again.

“What are you doing here?”

She laughed as she reached the section of countertop opposite him and the air between them seemed to crackle with anticipation.

“I do live here,” She teased, “You know this.”

He let out a gust of air through his nose, a telltale sign that he didn’t want to find what she had said funny but did anyway. She smiled, leaning back into the counter behind her and crossing her legs at the ankles.

“I just wanted to see you, I haven’t seen you, or spoken to you after yesterday.” She admitted, laying clear her reasons for seeking him out.

Rowan cocked his head, the roots of a smile beginning on his handsome face.

“You’ve seen me since then, and spoken to me.”

Aelin would have rolled her eyes had he not stepped closer, the heat from his body spilling into her, but he didn’t touch her.

“You know what I mean,” She said, not managing to hold back her whine.

“Do I?” He asked, he was definitely playing with her now, and he placed his palm down on the counter at her side. The hairs on her arm stood at his proximity, but he still held back from making contact. “Enlighten me. Please?”

The rasp of his voice, so close to the shell of her ear sent a shiver through her. The ball was in her court and she supposed it was only right. He had kissed her, and even though she had done nothing but think about it since, she hadn’t let Rowan know where they stood. At least on her end.

“You kissed me,” She began softly and she tilted her chin back to look up at him.

“I did,” His words were careful. His face was only inches from hers and she felt the soft tickle as his breath drifted across her face.

He wasn’t going to make this easy for her; he was going to make her work for it. And gods if that didn’t send a thrill through her.

It was make or break time and Aelin knew what she wanted. “I was hoping you’d do it again. More.”

The smile that spread across Rowan’s face was wide and the light from beneath their cupboards glinted against one of his canines.

“More?” He repeated, almost breathlessly. His free hand came up to cup her cheek and she took a sharp intake of breath. The smell of him drove her crazy, something musky and masculine, with the hint of pine trees and snow. “Like this?”

He trailed the hand from her cheek down her throat and past her breast, his fingers only lightly brushing the side. He drew a path from there to her waist, her skin burning beneath his touch, until he travelled further, his fingertips brushing the hem of her nightgown to find their place again at her thigh.

Aelin could only nod, couldn’t find the words to respond past the flurry of arousal spreading through her.

Her approval seemed to spur Rowan on, and he took his hand from the counter and wrapped it tightly around her waist. The hand brushing her thigh wrapped around the skin and lifted until she sat atop the counter, Rowan crowded between her spread legs. She could feel her pulse pounding through her body, deep and hot, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

His palm splayed wide up the side of her thigh and slid beneath the hem of her nightgown. She tilted her head back at the sensation, baring her throat to him, as she leaned back into the arm he held around her waist.

She was dangerously turned on now as Rowan’s hand crept higher and higher to brush against the lace covering her hip.

“Something like this?” He asked.

She could barely find the words but somehow managed a breathy, “Yes.”

He slid his hand higher, until it was firmly gripping her hip beneath her dress, and used his other hand to pull her even tighter against his body. The warmth of him between her legs sent her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he let out a dark laugh.

“What is it with us and this kitchen?” He asked, mostly to himself, and she couldn’t look away from him as he spoke. She barely registered the question but managed to shrug as she twisted her fingers through his hair, the motion dragging her front lightly against his with a torturous gentleness.

“What more would you like from me now?” His question both a taunt and a promise.

“Kiss me,” She begged. Rowan broke the eye contact they shared to glance down at their bodies pressed tightly together, her legs spread for him with her ankles locked behind him, and her core so close to his groin. “Please.”

He let out a breath before glancing back up to her. He leaned impossibly closer to her and she felt her eyes flutter shut. She tilted her head up, ready for the heat of his lips against hers once more, but it didn’t come.

Instead she felt his lips press to the junction of her skin between her neck and shoulder. She gasped and tightened her legs around his waist. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced down to where he looked up at her, his lips hovering over her neck. The sight had her burning even hotter inside, and she shifted against the counter, needing some friction from him.

He didn’t miss the motion and clamped his hands firmly on her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, the waistband of his trousers pressed exactly where she needed him and his eyes narrowed at the soft moan she couldn’t hold back.

His mouth returned to her neck, but instead of a kiss, he scraped his teeth lightly down her throat. She gasped at the sensation and she wasn’t sure she had been this turned on in a while, or ever. She needed him. Now.

His teeth closed lightly around the flesh of her neck and she yanked on his hair.

“Please.”

He pressed a featherlight kiss to the skin he had bitten and pulled his head back.

“No,” He said quietly and she jerked.

“No?” Aelin knew she was frowning now.

“No.” He repeated and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I want to take you to dinner first. If you’d like.”

Despite the fire burning through her, she smiled softly at him. “Dinner?”

She loosened her hands in his hair and dropped them to his shoulders.

“Dinner.” He nodded. “Are you free some time this week?”

Aelin laughed and ducked her head. “I’m sure I could find somewhere to fit you in.”

“Great,” He said into her hair, loosening the hold he had on her hips, and taking a small step back. “I’ll plan something nice.”

“Can’t wait.”

Aelin knew she looked absolutely ruined, and he hadn’t even kissed her. She wasn’t embarrassed though, she knew what she’d find if she dared to let her eyes drop to the front of Rowan’s trousers.

She couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across her lips as she hopped off the counter top. She trailed a hand down his arm as she stepped around him to leave the kitchen and head to bed. She wanted to grab his hand and pull her behind him, but she knew going down this path meant more, and she was glad of it.

As she left, Aelin took a final look back at him, his hair was mussed and there was a slight colouring along the high lines of his cheekbones.

He was gorgeous, and he had just asked her to dinner. She couldn’t wait.

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen

@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

@tottenhamboys20

@dressedindustandshadows

@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@illyrianwitchling

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

@fangirlprincess09

@darlinminds

@bookittothelibrary1 <- this came up as the url please let me know it its not right

@thenerdandfandoms

@danibutterr

#aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #throne of glass #a groovy kind of love #aedion ashryver #fenrys moonbeam #lorcan salvaterre #sam cortland #rowaelin au #agkol #this took ages lol #it was one of them where it was one scene beating me up #then i realised it wasn't even necessary and cut it #oh well

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markosmate · 4 years ago

Text

gorgeous (baby blues ll)

pairings; paul x reader

summary; after waking up in a hotel room alone and beginning to find out what you really are, you go looking for the boys to get some answers. spoiler alert: you get more than you bargained for.

warnings; strong language, use of weed

an:// i’m writing this note before writing this sequel to let y’all know that i for some reason had such a hard time trying to figure out what would happen in this but i finally got this idea so here it is y’all - the long awaited part two!! <33 (also i use babe way too much in this please forgive me,, other pet names make me highkey cringe)

Waking up the next morning was absolute hell. There was no other way to describe it. There was an overwhelming urge to drink something and it filled every vein in your body no matter how many waters you downed, nothing was making it subside. Besides that, there was a god forsaken pain in your chest that felt like it was dragging you towards something else. You couldn’t pin point where exactly it was trying to take you, you just knew you needed to go.

Trying to ignore how shitty you felt, you stood from the cheap motel bed and stumbled your way into the small bathroom. You were hoping a hot shower and some scented shampoo could get your mind off of the pain coursing through your body.

As you stood under the steaming water, you tried hard to think about what happened last night that could’ve caused this pain. The more you dug into your memory, the more came back to you in short flashes. You hadn't actually fallen asleep after David had told you to now that you think about it. It kind of feels like a conscious blackout, where you were still there when it was happening - yet it all happened in what only felt like the blink of an eye.

Flashes of memory came speeding back, almost making you topple over from the pounding headache that came with them. You vaguely remember sitting on the couch, leaning against Paul and drinking from a bedazzled bottle. The boys were all laid back - Marko smoking a joint, Dwayne reading a book, and David scanning through the stations on a radio. The next memory only consisted of you and Paul looking at each other and laughing as a snoring David with a sharpie mustache laid next to you both.

The last memory was short, but sweet. Paul and Dwayne standing with you as you checked into this very motel. "You could just stay with us babe." You remember Paul telling you as he held you close to him, rubbing the tip of his nose against your cheek cutely.

As far as you could tell from your memories, nothing too bad had happened. You’d gotten shit-faced with the boys, drew a mustache on David, and checked into this hotel after Paul and Dwayne drove you here. Nothing too shabby.

Until you stepped out of the shower and screamed at the top of your lungs. Why in the fuck could you see through yourself?

You just sort of stood there for a moment staring at the see-through reflection of yourself in the mirror. You could still see the general outline of your body, but it just kind of looked a cloud of mist.

You looked over towards the bathroom sink and spotted a pretty scented candle sitting next to the faucet. Just to make sure you weren’t going insane, you picked it up and held it behind your back, only to find out you could still see it.

"What in the holy hell happened last night?" You whispered to yourself, trying to pull your clothes on as quick as possible. You didn’t bother properly checking out of the hotel, you just wrapped your old clothes in a towel and hurried out to your motorcycle with the keys in hand.

You stuffed the clothes in your backpack strapped under the seat and you were off in an instant. "Are you kidding?" You growled looking at the sky. The sun was almost completely hidden under the skyline. "How is it already this late?"

You didn’t realize that you didn't really know what you were supposed to do until you were already speeding down the road. You didn’t know how to find the boys, you didn’t know who to ask about where to find them, and as far as you could remember you didn’t exactly know how to get to the cave from here.

After minutes of just aimlessly driving up and down roads, you decided that heading to the boardwalk was the smartest course of action. Hopefully you’d be able to spot them there, and if you didn’t then you’d just have to try and remember all the paths through the woods they had taken to get to the bluff.

The boardwalk was just as crowded as the night before, as you expected. The parking lot was almost completely packed and you didn’t really feel up to driving up and down the lines trying to look for a spot, so you took it upon yourself to follow the boys' lead and drive up onto the boardwalk - something with which you were almost sure was completely illegal. You swerved around multiple crowds of people, constantly looking around and over your shoulder to try and spot the boys. There was no sign of them or their bikes anywhere on the entire beach.

"This is fucking ridiculous, this makes no sense." You muttered, throwing your head back in pure frustration. To the woods you go then. You were absolutely livid that you were being forced to try and find this place once again on your own.

Now that you really thought about it, you couldn’t even really figure out why you felt the need to go to the boys about this predicament. Maybe it’s because you trusted them? Nah, it’s because you blame them for everything that has happened to you since you woke up. You sped down the beach, your bike tires kicking sand up in multiple directions as you angrily ranted in your head.

An indescribable thirst that wasn’t calming down, a pounding headache that had lasted a good two and a half hours at this point, a sharp pain in your chest that throbbed everytime you ignored the urges to follow it to where it was trying to take you, and your body was see through. There’s absolutely no way that they didn’t have something to do with it.

After at least an hour and a couple of wrong turns, you finally made it to the bluffs. You huffed out a breath of air that was nothing short of annoyance as you realized the boys bikes weren’t here either.

"Whatever, I’ll just wait here for them then." You spoke aloud to yourself once more as you killed the engine and walked the bike over to a section of sea-plants to hide it from view. You jogged down the stairs that led to the bridge, stopping halfway over to look out into the ocean.

You really wouldn’t mind staying here for good, after all the traveling you've done for so long it really wouldn’t hurt to finally call somewhere home.

However, you wouldn’t even think about making that decision until you found out what the hell had happened the night before. Once you were safely down inside the cave, you tried to cozy yourself up on the couch to ignore the horrible chill going through the place. They lived here, it shouldn’t take long before they arrive right?

Not even a half hour later, you heard the roars of the engines and the voices of the boys echoing down the side of the bluff. "I don’t understand, you guys dropped her off didn’t you? Where could she have gone?" You could vaguely pick up Marko's voice carried on the wind.

"Stop!" Paul's voiced suddenly came in a shout. He laughed giddily before you heard the pounding of footsteps down the stairs. "I can smell her!"

Smell you? How could he smell you from up there? Suddenly he emerged from the webs and drapes hanging around the opening with a large smile on his face. "Babe!" He grinned as he hopped down from the last step, the other three following quickly after him. "We were just out looking for you for like two hours!"

"Wow, wish I knew that before I went out looking for you guys." You rolled your eyes, pulling the blanket on your shoulders tighter around your body.

"How'd you find your way here so easy?" Marko questioned, leaning over to the radio to turn it up a little for some background noise.

"It wasn’t easy, I got lost six times." You replied bluntly as you kept an eye on Paul who was slowly scooting closer to you on the couch.

David snorted at you, moving to sit down in his wheel chair. You looked at him for the first time since they had come in and snorted right back at him once you noticed the fading mustache clumsily drawn on his face.

He immediately realized what you were looking at and shot you a sharp glare. "Don’t even think you’re off the hook for that."

"What?" You whined playfully. "It was Paul's idea." That was a lie, you truly had no idea who’s idea it was to draw it but you weren’t exactly interested in being at the receiving end of David's wrath just a day after meeting him.

"What?" Paul echoed, locking eyes with you with a small pout playing at his lips. "Don’t sell me out like that, babe."

You giggled at him, for a moment completely forgetting that you were supposed to be mad at them as soon as your eyes locked with his. You caught yourself quickly, cutting your laughter short and turning to look at each of them sharply. "I didn’t come here to laugh." Your resolve broke halfway through and you couldn’t stop the smile from coming to your face once you spotted Dwayne hiding his quiet laughs behind the sleeve of his jacket. "I came here for answers." Your whisper came soon after.

"What kind of answers?" David mumbled, inhaling from his cigarette and slowly letting a cloud of smoke out after.

"What happened last night?" This caused the smirk to slowly come back to his face. You continued, not letting yourself become deterred from his standoffish attitude. "I woke up feeling like absolute shit. I mean, some weird thirst that I couldn’t crave, a horrible headache, I can see through myself! What the hell did you guys do?"

"Nothing you didn’t agree to." Came the leader's genius reply.

"I didn’t agree to anything." You snapped. "What did you do?"

"Listen babe, you drank some blood, joked around for a while, we played some pranks, and I drove you to that motel while Dwayne got your motorcycle from the boardwalk. That’s all that happened. Honest." Paul held out his pinky towards you. You looked at him skeptically before raising your pinky to wrap around his.

"Promise?" You mumbled, not shying away from him as he leaned towards you a little more.

"Promise." The smile he sent you was almost enough to have you falling for him instantly, until his previous words clicked in your head. You roughly shoved him away from you, standing and frantically backing away from all four of them.

"What?" You almost screamed looking at them with a building fury hidden in your eyes. "What the fuck do you mean I drank blood?"

"Calm down sweetheart, you’re being kind of over-dramatic." Marko mocked with a lazy smirk on his face. Dwayne shot him a sharp look before turning to try and console you.

"Calm down? Is this some sort of sick joke?" You began hyperventilating. Whose blood did you drink? Why did you willingly let them give you blood? How does that explain anything that’s been happening to you?

"Okay, I know this looks bad. Trust me, baby, I know. Please come sit and we'll explain everything to you alright?" Paul grabbed onto your wrist gently and led you back over to the couch as Dwayne crouched in front of you and began trying to help direct your breathing back to normal.

"Good?" The brunette checked after a few minutes.

You nodded, leaning back against the couch and wrapping your arms around yourself. "Yeah... thanks." He nodded in acknowledgment before pushing himself into a sitting position, waiting for the other two to sit themselves in a circle so they could all explain it to you as much as possible.

"Yeah, you drank blood. My blood." David explained shortly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on one of the side tables.

You tried to stop yourself from jumping up and attempting to strangle him, feeling budding frustration build at his lack of explanation.

"Why?" You forced out through gritted teeth, keeping your eyes locked directly onto the platinum blond's.

"To put this shortly, and hopefully get this over with soon, we’re vampires. I'm the head. You drank my blood, now you’re a half vampire. You won’t be a full until you make your first kill. Do with that what you will." And with that, he stood, turned, and made his way into another hallway that stemmed off of the main room.

"I- I just- what... what does that even mean?" You cried out looking in between the three remaining vampires. “Vampires? Y’all are vampires?” Dwayne just shot you a small sympathetic smile before ruffling your hair and making his way into the same hallway David had gone.

"Don’t worry, kitkat. You said you were wandering didn’t you? Have been for a long time? This could be your home, if you want. With us." Marko grinned at you and you slowly felt your resolve fading away.

Okay, yeah, they did turn you without your permission. But, you’d been looking for a place to call home for so long. Yeah, they were vampires. You think? And you were almost a full one like them, so would it be that bad to call these boys, this place your home? You didn’t think so.

"Maybe." You smiled a little, lifting your eyes from your hands to look around the cave for the second time in complete awe. "I do like it here. A lot."

"Yeah, and like Dwayne said last night. You felt a pull to stay here, Santa Carla is where you were meant to be." The curly blond spoke once again, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Why though? Surely you must have an answer for that. If you knew about it, then you must know what it is." You tilted your head the tiniest bit, looking between the two boys sitting next to you.

"The mating bond." David's voice echoed in the main room as he came in from the hallway. He held a small box of records in his hands, setting them down next to his wheelchair as he began sorting through them to find the right one.

"The mating what now?" You snorted, moving to lean your head against Paul's shoulder. He tensed for a moment out of surprise but leaned right back onto you once he realized what you were doing.

"That pull you feel. It’s a mating bond, common in vampires - but not all have them. You feel it now, you’ll feel it a hundred times stronger once you become a full." David explained, finally finding the track he was looking for as he grinned in triumph.

"So what you’re saying... is I’m attached to this place? In a mating bond? And I’ll feel it stronger once I turn?" You were completely and utterly confused about the entire thing and it only became more confusing when all the boys began to chuckle.

"Not the place cutie." Paul teased, moving to massage your shoulder a little bit.

"So... one of you?" The question came rolling off your tongue before you could even think about the possibility.

"Bingo." Dwayne came strolling in, shooting a finger gun in Paul's direction. You immediately caught on to the action, turning in your spot to lock eyes with Paul.

"You?" You whispered, gaping at him as he nodded with a happy grin adorning his face, teased hair bouncing with every movement of his head.

"Right on, Y/n." It was the first time that he called you by your actual name, and it dawned on you how important a mating bond must be to a vampire.

"So you can feel it stronger than I can?"

“God, you bet he can. Felt it as soon as we drove onto the boardwalk last night." Marko chuckled, biting at his thumbnail.

"Only reason we went into max's video store." David explained, twirling his bracelet around as he talked.

"Wow, okay. That’s a lot to take in." You mumbled, moving to lean into Paul more as he fully wrapped his arm around your waist - much more comfortable in being physical with you now that you knew the truth.

"But... you’ll stay?" Paul asked.

"And change?" Marko threw in.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I will." You grinned at them all as they all cheered, Paul laughing into your ear as he pulled you into him tightly.

As the other three began celebrating the newest addition to their little family, you turned to look at Paul only to realize he was already looking at you. You mirrored his smile as you looked into his pretty blue eyes, trying to dig deeper and catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. In the end, you just ended up whispering to him.

"Can I kiss you?" His face lit up and his free hand came up to cup the side of your neck, his thumb grazing softly over your jaw.

"Hell yeah, you can." And his lips met yours in the middle. This is where you were meant to be, you finally knew where you were being pulled to all along.

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pls-let-me-out · 4 years ago

Text

The Selection

For thirthy-five youngers, the Selection is the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to escape the life laid out for them since birth. To be swept up in a world of glittering gowns and priceless jewels. To live in a palace and compete for the heart of gorgeous Prince William.

But for Niccolò Jackson, formerly di Angelo, being Selected is a nightmare. It means leaving his home to enter a fierce competition for a crown he doesn't want. Living in a palace that is constantly threatened by violent rebel attacks. Especially when he knows that his family has rebel affiliations. Just one slip as he talks of them, and he will be executed for treason. So, when he is chosen to participate, he has a simple plan: get in, don’t do absolutely anything to attract the Prince’s attention, and be sent home after the first week.

Of course, things start going down-hill since the first day.

After saying good-bye to his younger sister Hazel, with the promise of writing, the last thing Nico wants to do is socializing with the other suitors. Not only would it be absolutely tiring, but he also finds it useless, as they are meant to be competitors for the same prize. None of them will cultivate any long-lasting relationship. Not that the others are too heartbroken to see him disappear, they have been eyeing him weirdly since he first set foot down the plane. He isn’t the one from the lowest cast, but most of the others are from the higher ones.

Nico is a Six, or has been so for the last few years. It’s the cast of workers. He doesn’t know how much of a background-check they’ve done at the Palace, how much the Prince actually knows about him. However, it has taken Nico exactly a look at the other two suitors from the lower castes (Elise, a Seven, a manual laborer; James, a fellow Six) to know that they are the charity cases. Every time a Selection is held, people from all castes (except Eights) are brought to the Palace, but it’s always clear that they won’t stay for long. They are often ignored by the other suitors and the Royals. It’s fine by Nico. He will be paid for staying a week.

The gardens are at least pretty. Nico has to admit as much. There’s a maze somewhere, which he doesn’t want to see even from afar, and old statues in white marble are scattered around. If Hazel were here, she would love the place. Nico finds it a bit overboard. There’s a golden plaque on the ground. Nico bends to read the descriptions.

“Forgive me,” someone says, and Nico almost jumps out of his skin. “Are you lost, sir?”

Nico turns around, hiding the cigarette behind himself. Useless, since it just makes the smoke come from behind him. The person he comes face to face with has widened blue eyes. Oh shit.

So much for not being noticed, Nico thinks. In complete silence, he stares at the Prince, and the Prince stares right back at him. Nico hopes that, if he gets away from the situation at hand quickly enough, the Prince will forget his face. Poor people probably look all the same to pricks like him, anyway.

“Hey!” The Prince exclaims, and a smile brightens his features. “You are one of the suitors, aren’t you? I’m Prince William, it’s nice to meet you.”

Prince William extends a hand, and Nico has to switch the cigarette in the other hand to shake it.

“Niccolò Jackson,” Nico says. Should he say that it’s nice to meet him? How is he supposed to know how to greet a Prince? He lets go of the Prince’s hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” the Prince continues. “However, shouldn’t you be socializing with the other suitors?”

Nico sighs. “It’s not really my scene. Sorry.” He shrugs.

“Oh.” The Prince rubs the back of his neck, looking around uncomfortably.

“You don’t have to stay,” Nico says. He craves peace and quiet, and he can’t get it when the whole reason he has been taken away from the family in the first place is right in front of him. “You can just go. I’m sure you have very important things to do.”

“I do, as a matter of fact. Greeting every suitor, for example.”

“Consider me greeted.” Nico nods one last time at the Prince, before giving him his back and inhaling the smoke of his cigarette. He really hopes they aren’t being filmed right now, or Sally will kick his ass once he gets home.

“I – you shouldn’t be smoking,” the Prince continues.

“Will you put me in jail if I do?”

The Prince seems even more taken aback, and Nico is starting to feel impatient. He wants to go home and sleep for the next few years, but he can’t, because of course he just had to be one of thirty-five idiots sorted from the whole kingdom. That’s just the kind of luck that follows him around these days.

“Well?” Nico asks again. “Will you put me in jail?”

“Of course no! But it’s bad for-”

“Bad for me, so mind your own business.”

And with that, Nico stomps away. They won’t even notice I’m there, Nico told Hazel before leaving, when she was still in bed with her hair wrapped in her scarf. I’ll be a shadow. I’ll sneak something out of the Palace for you, though. She laughed, until her lungs started burning again, and she got cut off by a heavy round of coughs.

Nico shares his suite with a guy named something he can’t pronounce. He’s a Two, an actor. He informs Nico of that himself, and also asks whether Nico wants an autograph. It’s almost heartbreaking, how Nico has to inform him that he has never seen any of his movies.

“It must be such an upgrade for you,” the guy continues, from where he is perched on the sofa, watching him unpack through the open door of the bedroom. “Passing from being a Six to a Three. You know you will be a Three when this is all over, don’t you? Of course I will remain a Two, unless the Prince chooses me. Then I’d be a One. Don’t you find it so-?”

Nico doesn’t hear the rest. He closes the door, muttering something about taking a bath. He just sits on the bed, and lets the hours pass. He doesn’t get out of his room until it’s dinner time, when they are brought food into the suite. Actor-boy tells him that he will be dining with the girls in the next suite, and leaves Nico behind.

The following day the suitors have breakfast together. Only one place is left vacant at the table, by the time food arrives.

“Is it for the Prince?” The girl next to him asks another. “Should we wait for him?”

The other shakes her head. “Oh, no. It’s for Drew Tanaka. She will be having breakfast with her family, though.”

Nico furrows his eyebrows, sipping his coffee quietly. Shouldn’t that not be allowed? They can keep their phones and contact their families, also post on social media, but they shouldn’t be traveling home. And does she intend on traveling home every day?

“Her father’s a lord,” the second girl responds. “Her family lives here.” She snorts. “Didn’t you research anything about the other suitors?”

“I didn’t think it was allowed.”

“And it isn’t,” a third girl says. She sighs. “Honestly. Just don’t talk about breaking the rules so openly at the breakfast table. You don’t even know who is listening.”

Nico feels her eyes on his face, but he doesn’t look up from his coffee. Once again, he wishes he were in his own home, even if it means having to deal with Percy and his obnoxiousness. Maybe he can stay just for a few days, thinking better about it.

When breakfast is over, they are brought to a circular room. The smell of flowers in there is almost nauseating, and Nico wishes he could open the windows. But Jasmine – the woman who showed them around yesterday – is already giving him weird looks. If he were to step closer to the window, she would probably think him in the middle of a robbery of windows. So he walks around the room while he waits for his turn, stopping every once in a while to admire the paintings on the walls.

“You aren’t a Five, are you?”

Nico almost jumps out of his skin. Again. This time at least it isn’t the Prince in front of him, but the third girl from the breakfast table. Nico shakes his head.

“Six,” he says. “But not only Fives can watch art, you know.”

“I guess,” she responds, shrugging a bare shoulder. The girls are wearing elegant dresses, and hers has a particularly large gown. Nico is in a suit, which he looks like an idiot in. “I’m Lou Ellen, Two.”

“Niccolò Jackson,” Nico says. “Six.”

“You already said that.”

Nico shrugs, without anything left to say. He turns back to the painting.

“You don’t look particularly happy to be here,” she continues. “Don’t you want to woo Will?”

Nico turns back to her. “Who’s Will?”

“Prince William.” She doesn’t hide a smile. “He’s a friend of mine. So, are you going to woo him?”

��That’s just the least my charming personality can do,” Nico replies. There’s a smudge of something in the corner of the painting, which is in equal measure disgusting for the viewers and horrifically disrespectful to the artist.

Lou Ellen laughs. “I guess so. Why are you here if you don’t think you can woo him?”

Nico shrugs. “Aren’t they paying us?”

“Chapeau,” Lou Ellen concedes. She takes a deep breath. “You don’t seem very interested in making friends.”

“That’s because we won’t be friends for long. Ten go away after this first week, or fifteen, I didn’t really read all that well. After that, everyone who has stayed will try their best to remain again, beat the others somehow. At some point, people will just be stabbing each other in the back.”

“Will you?”

Nico scoffs. “I won’t stay that long. Me, the other Six, and the girl from Seven. We are the three everyone is certain will leave after this week. We are placeholders.”

Lou Ellen is called in next. They’re going by order of the castes, so Nico is the third-last to go in. He finds the Prince seated at the round table, the breeze entering from the window is ruffling his blond hair. His lips are already pulled in a smile when Nico enters. It makes him shiver.

“Mr. Jackson,” the Prince says. “It’s very nice to see you again.”

The Prince gestures to the enormous teapot and the two empty mugs. There are also many types of sweets, and the lemon-cake Hazel likes so much. Just thinking of her has nostalgia blossom in Nico’s chest, and they have only been apart for a day.

“Are you glaring at the lemon cake?” The Prince asks.

Nico startles. He quickly sits at the free chair. “No.”

“Are you allergic?”

“No.” Nico clears his throat.

“May I offer you some tea?”

“I really despise tea,” Nico replies. He crosses his arms on the chest, leaning back. The Prince pours some for himself. “Also, isn’t it your thirty-third cup?”

The Prince smiles. “Yup. Believe it or not, there are people who enjoy a good cup of tea.”

“I can believe that, but thirty-three in a morning is a bit of a stretch. Won’t you get indigestion or something?”

“Is that a threat?”

“From the one who thought that it would be alright to let you drink thirty-three cups of tea in a morning, maybe,” Nico replies. He grins. “Not for the poor soul who is just the witness. Should I tell the thirty-fifth to let you take a toilet break?”

The Prince laughs. “I really hope you know we are being filmed, and this is a live-stream.”

Nico taps his foot on the ground. He isn’t used to being on camera anymore, although Hazel often posts short videos in which he also appears on her profiles on social media. He doesn’t have to talk in those, though.

“You really know how to put people at ease,” Nico comments. “What are you going to tell me next, that your parents are watching in the next room, ready to intervene if I ask you too much about your toilet habits?”

“They only intervene if you are unreasonably sarcastic.”

“That’s a very charming and fancy way of telling me to shut up.”

“Oh dear – tell me you aren’t one of those eat the royal folks.”

“Didn’t you run a background check on me or something?”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t shown any of that,” the Prince admits. He shrugs. “So, uh. I don’t know much about you.”

Nico nods, and stares at the table. It’s covered by a really horrible, red and golden tablecloth. It’s exactly the type of thing Nico should have expected to find in the Palace.

“Cool,” Nico says.

“What’s cool?”

Not this tablecloth. He doesn’t say that. “Not much.”

The Prince nods. “Alright.” He clears his throat.

There’s a long, awkward silence. Nico should deal better with awkward, really. That’s all conversations ever are with him. There are stilted words, long, stretching silences. He wishes the ground would open under him.

“How much longer do I have to stay?” Nico finally asks.

“Where?”

In this hellish hole. “Here. Now. In the tea-room, I mean.”

“We should go for a walk,” the Prince says.

“Not together, right?”

“Ah.”

“I mean, no offense, but this is frankly embarrassing,” Nico says. He leans forward in his seat. “I just really need a cigarette.”

“I’ve never smoked one.”

“I really hope you aren’t trying to get one of mine.”

“I was just trying to make conversation.”

And the Prince makes a strange kind of puppy eyes, which Nico has only ever seen Hazel make. And Percy, occasionally, but his just annoy Nico to an unbelievable level.

“So, what do you do in your free-time?” Nico blurts out, hoping to erase the Prince’s eyes.

“Oh, I study,” the Prince says. “I really enjoy reading, and learning in general. I particularly enjoy Philosophy, which I usually study on my own. I have tutors, of course. Although at the moment I am having some problems with Physics. I have also tried studying French a couple of years back, but I wasn’t really good at that. It was just so horrible.”

“Learning French sucks,” Nico concedes, thinking back to his own struggles with the language. “But not as much as learning Latin.”

“You know Latin?”

Nico shrugs. He shouldn’t have said that, should he? The Prince has already said that he doesn’t know much of his background, so maybe he also doesn’t know that Nico hasn’t always been a Six. Hell, he wasn’t even always called Niccolò Jackson.

“I know Ancient Greek.”

Nico nods. “Sounds fancy.” He doesn’t say that he knows that, too.

The Prince almost seems to be having problems controlling all his energy. His finger curl and uncurl around the armrests of the chair. His gaze shifts more than once to the windows and the gardens. When Nico follows his eyes, he doesn’t see anything, though.

A bell rings, startling the Prince out of his reverie.

“It seems that our time is up,” the Prince says.

The Prince stands, and Nico does the same, giving him an even-more-than-awkward nod, and turning to leave.

“It was really nice meeting you!” The Prince continues, when Nico’s hand is already on the doorknob.

Nico turns back, to give him a tight-lipped smile, catching the Prince empty the mug of tea out of the window. It startles a laugh out of him. The Prince turns, his eyes widened at having been caught in the act. His cheeks dust in red, and it only makes Nico laugh harder.

“So you aren’t poisoning yourself with thirty-five cups of tea, only the soil outside,” he says. “Good to know.”

“It’s considered polite to offer people tea,” the Prince replies smoothly.

Nico’s smile tightens. “Well, let me tell you, Your Highness, maybe the Twos, Threes, maybe even Fours or Fives, care about drinking tea and making small talk. Sixes and Sevens? We don’t really care whether you stuff yourself in tea and lemon cakes. Actually, most people from home would probably much rather you not waste so much food when everyone has already been served plentiful breakfast.” Nico makes a mocking wave with his hand. “With your gracious permission.”

He doesn’t slam the door behind himself, even if his cheeks are red and his ears ring. Sally should be proud of him, honestly.

#solangelo #solangelo fic #the selection au #will solace #nico di angelo

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bubblyani · 4 years ago

Text

Back for Good

(Jim Davis x Reader)

A Jim Davis One Shot

Movie: Harsh Times (2005) by David Ayer

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alcohol use, Swearing, Violence and Sexual Content

Word Count: 9k+

Summary: Your spirits are lifted when your older boyfriend Jim Davis returns from the Army for good. As the lovers passionately reunite, you begin to reminisce the first encounter, and the unforgettable event that sealed your fate with Jim, possibly forever.

Author’s Note: One of the fantastic Balehead Accounts on Instagram once posted a photo of Jim Davis with a caption more so along the lines of “…Older boyfriend Jim visiting you at College…”. It was too irresistible to ignore. So this story was born. @tammykelly You are an angel to even show some enthusiasm towards this, even before I started, Thank you for the encouragement ! Hope y’all enjoy!

P.S: If anyone want to be tagged in specific Bale! Character fics please do let me know. And if you wanna be removed from anything NOT BATMAN, please feel free to let me know. I understand completely.

Three.

It costed three people. Merely three for this nightmare scenario to enter reality.

A tall young man panted fast, his right hand assuming full responsibility for the broken bottle, not to mention the intense bleeding that resulted from it. All the while he stared down at his finished product: a much younger man. He watched the figure groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; as a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head as well, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement. Only in that moment, realization and bitter reality coupled up to surprise the standing man, with a sucker punch.

Which was transparent enough for the young woman beside them, the witness. Violence, Danger, her trembling heart sensed it all. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, never did she flinch. Never did her heart consider retracting from him. On the contrary, she was compelled to trust him even further.

Especially when she sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go”

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

(Present)

The dusky skies appeared just as serene over South Central Los Angeles as anywhere else in the country, filtering over the streets and the neighborhoods. Cruising through in favorable speed, Mike Alonzo finally took his eyes off the road, permitting them to land on the tall, young man sitting beside him on the passenger seat: his best friend, Jim Davis.

His downcast expression was evident, with his tall frame sunken into the seat. He stared right ahead, while he sipped his bottle of beer in his suit. This posture was nothing short of a surprise for Mike to glance upon. If he had squinted his eyes, he swore he could imagine Jim as the rebellious teenager he once was. Only with a new buzz cut. Otherwise, it seemed that nothing had really changed.

Except it had. Older and forced to be responsible, they were facing times considered very harsh. And Jim just had a taste of it.

“Sorry, dude”

Mike began, looking back at the road. Shaking his head with disbelief, Jim sat up in slow motion as his teeth began to grind.

“Man! Fuck…this...shit!!”

Jim drawled with disappointment, enunciating every word whilst holding up a piece of paper, “I’m so done with this cop hate bullshit!” He added, taking another sip of alcohol. Mike nodded:

“Yeah, dawg. Forget about that! ” He smiled, smacking his friend on his shoulder in a playful demeanor, “Hey, Syl is cooking tonight…You wanna join us, bro?”

The possibility of his girlfriend Sylvia agreeing to this, was at an all time low. Mike was well aware. Yet, he was certain it was a question worth posing to his friend in need.

“Nah, man! I got plans”

Hitting the brakes in front of the stop lights, Mike looked at his friend again with surprise, “Yeah?” He inquired, looking quite pleased. Finally flashing a proud smile, Jim nodded:

“Yep! Gonna go see my woman soon…” he answered. Eyes widening seemed appropriate for Mike at that very moment.

“Yo, No shit!” Mike cried out with excitement, finally stepping on the gas, “The chick from UCLA*? You…you still with her?” He inquired.

“Yeah, Homie! ”

“Dawg!…” laughing with sheer amazement, Mike looked at Jim, “I’m impressed…really” he added, proceeding to chuckle, “Look ‘atchu…my boi Jim....going steady with the fine ass college chick…”

“Whoo!” With his soul finally returning to his body, Jim howled, “Finer than fine, dawg!”

“Hell yeah!”

Given the state of hyped energy that erupted in the car between the two young men, it would be nearly impossible to guess how sombre it was just before. “So…so…” Mike continued, holding on to the wheel as they kept driving, “… where you gon’meet?”

“Well…actually…” Jim looked at him, licking his lips, “….it’s a surprise” he added with a playful smirk. To which Mike could not help but laugh, “What?” Mike paused, “You didn’t tell her you’re back for good?”

Seeing his friend shake his head like a naughty schoolboy forced him to laugh harder, “Ohohoho!! this is gon be one hell of a reunion, dawg” He added with sheer enthusiasm, “But seriously though, she’s a real good one too, bro…” Mike opinionated, as soon as his laughter died down, “ I mean, even Syl liked her”

“Shit! For real?”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Mike answered immediately, “And you know Syl, she ain’t easy to please”

Gulping down the remnants of the bottle, Jim exhaled and stared out through the window, “Shit man!” He exclaimed, “I’m really gonna see her again, huh?”

With his tone growing deeper, his eyes began to burn with a flame that could only be categorized as lustful. Sensing the vibe that did not seem so new, Mike chuckled:

“Oh yeah! My homie’s gonna get it tonight! Salud*”

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

The buzz, the chatter of young adults was consistent in the hallway outside. It served as background noise when the door of the toilet cubicle burst wide open, spitting a rather young woman out of it with haste. Only then did the mirror managed to identify her: You.

With your hand clutching on to a bra, you let out a relieved sigh. For within a few seconds, your body experienced a new form of liberation. And you managed to savor it on your own in a public ladies washroom. Wearing a soft smile that was easily reflected in the mirror, you stuffed the piece of lingerie into your shoulder handbag.

“Seriously?”

You jumped with a yelp. Being so wrapped around in your own thoughts, you did not even notice Yara, your friend standing there. With her arms folded and eyebrows raised, it was clear that her face was rife with judgement.

“What?” You inquired breathlessly, “Auntie Flo* is about to visit…and the twins were just swelling to …get some parole time” you added with a playful smirk, pointing at your chest with no shame. The curves of your now-freed bosom seemed more visible through your cardigan top, “And fuck! it feels so good” you exclaimed, as you washed your hands. Yara however, scoffed with amusement:

“So you’re saying you were squirming in your seat the whole time to let the puppies out?”

“What? I had to pee too!”

“Well, You could have just left right then!” She insisted with a seeming annoyance, as you grabbed a tissue.

“…and miss Mr. Linney’s Final Notes? Uh uh! No way, bitch!” You waved your index finger with disapproval as you both exited. Students had flooded the hallway by then. Evening lectures at UCLA finally had drawn to a close, and Friday night was about to make its entrance. Youth in all shapes and colors, gathered in bunches all over the campus area, even beside the beautifully lit Royce Hall. Suffice to say, all were relieved to have some time off in the weekend.

“So…you coming, right?”

You looked at Yara upon her casual inquiry with confusion, “For what?”. Scoffing again, this time in disbelief, Yara's eyes widened looking at you: “Dinner?…tonight?”

She stressed, taking a step out of the campus building, “Last week you promised you’ll join me and Chase” with her arms folded and foot tapping on the ground in pure restlessness, she was a clear visual of a loanshark. However, that impatience left her system the moment her eyes fell behind you,“…and speaking of Chase…Baby!”

With her face lit up, her tone grew affectionate as Chase, her boyfriend rushed over to her.

“ ‘sup babe!” The tall, young blonde greeted, pulling his ebony goddess of a girlfriend for a passionate kiss.

Folding your arms, you could not help but avert your eyes. All the while you drew circles with your foot on the ground. Chase and Yara’s relationship certainly was a refreshing one to glimpse upon in the campus premises. You approved of it with sincerity, even when you looked away in awkwardness. It was not on spite. Truthfully, PDA was nothing you disapproved of. You were certainly not envious of the joy they possessed as their lips played with one another, quite similarly to a steamy MTV music video. You merely looked away, for any display of affection was a sheer reminder of him.

It had been months since you last saw him, possibly 6. And constant communication was not exactly convenient for him. Not in his situation. Was he alive and happy? The sheer reminder of gunshots and helicopter whirring forced your heart to race, which was nothing short of new. Granted, you had learnt to ‘compartmentalize’, a term you recently came to knowledge in your psych minor class. Yet, you were young and only human to have those concerns return to haunt you even for a few seconds. The sound of Yara and Chase’s lips smacking urged you to look up. Finally, you thought.

“So?” Yara inquired, casually wiping the smudged lipstick off her face, “You coming?”

Carefree, yet extremely inconsiderate, that was what she exuded. A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. For oddly enough, the sight of the happy couple managed to drain your energy out tonight. You longed to run away.

“Honestly…” you began with a sigh, “I don’t really feel so good tonigh-”

“¿Qué pasa, guapa?”

What’s up, gorgeous?

That voice. That deep, spine tingling tone was a reminder of your mere existence. The tone that tempted every hair in your body to stand at attention. Turning around in a flash, you covered your mouth, shocked to find the person you prayed to see all this time.

“JIM??” You cried out in a muffled tone, “Oh my GOD!!-”

Squealing in pure joy, you sprinted towards Jim Davis before jumping into his arms. Seemingly extremely pleased, Jim let out a hearty laughter. Suddenly the energy you were drained had returned in the form of a shot of adrenaline when he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you without hesitation. And you swore the feel of his lips on yours added a couple of years into your life.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you were coming back so soon” Breathless, you pointed out when he finally put you down.

“Well, I’m back for good, baby” Jim replied, extending his arms outward with pride. Your eyes widened: “What? You serious?”

“Yep…” he grinned nodding, “Honorably discharged…and all yours”

You sensed his tone morph into a low purr the moment he pulled you close to him. And you would be lying if that did not fill your stomach with butterflies. After ages.

“Umm….”

Yara’s voice emerged. You and Jim turned back, to find her and Chase appearing the most confused, “…you mind telling us who this is…?” She inquired with raised eyebrows.

Finally in realization, you chuckled. For introductions were in order.

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

The aromatic scent crept into your nostrils, only to soon disappear out of the lack of attention provided. All the while an uptempo Latin Pop track playing in the background mingled with Yara and Chase’ voices, but unfortunately faded away into mere mumbles. For none of that seemed to be the key focus for you tonight. Not when Jim Davis was around.

Even seated at a crowded Mexican Restaurant, he mattered the most to you. Even when platefuls of delectable Taquitos* were served to the table, your eyes did not leave his irresistible side profile. And when his sense of expertise noticed and his eyes caught your gaze, you were breathless. You wondered if it was the romantic in you surfacing, for all seemed to appear in slow motion. His eyes remained seductive, washing all over you that it was certain your panties might melt and diminish into thin air. Those eyes were truly sorcerous, that your eyes suddenly had lives of their own to the point you could sense their figurative cheeks heat up with heavy blushes. For his eyes, they were proficient in the dirty talk as much as his mouth was. Breathing in his cheap cologne with depth, you suddenly grew aware of his touch, and the fact he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder all this time. Being lost in his eyes was definitely an out-of-body experience.

“Hey!”

Your soul reunited with your frame upon Yara’s call.

“Mmm?” Looking over at the couple sitting across the table, you and Jim were unfazed.

“Aren’t you two gonna eat?” Yara inquired with raised eyebrows while Chase had began to gobble. Her gaze questioned both your sanity. To which you and Jim could not help but chuckle in response. Shaking her head, Yara scoffed:

“It’s so weird…” she began, “…seeing you like this”. Wiping the crumbs off his mouth, Chase joined in with confidence, “Yeah! How did you guys even meet anyways? I mean, no offense but…we never thought she’d be the one…” he stressed, pointing at you, “… to have an older boyfriend who’s a Marine-”

“-Army Ranger” Jim corrected. His gaze and tone was dominant, enough for Chase to wither with intimidation.

“Yeah…” Chase nodded with a gulp, “…what you said…”. You would be lying if you admit you did not enjoy that sight.

“Actually…” you finally began, “We met a year ago” turning to face your boyfriend, “ He was back in LA during his break. We met at a bar”

“Hold up! ” Raising her hand, Yara was wide eyed, “How come I didn’t know about this?”

“Cause this happened a year ago, hun. Calm down” you chuckled, “Actually, this was even before Cin transferred. Hah! you didn’t miss much…Don’t worry” you assured upon seeing Yara’s pout, “It was a small bar, but I loved the Pistos*-I mean…” you paused with a smile, “….the beer there…” Your pause caused Jim to chuckle alongside once again. Safe to say it was a chuckle that encompassed a shared memory. A sweet reminder of your first ever meeting.

“And?…that’s it?” Chase inquired with amusement, with both hands resting on the wooden table, “You both meet at a bar one night and…” he whistled, “…then sparks flew?”

Looking at them both, you could sense the suspicion in their eyes. You longed to answer, however it was not so easy to do so. Pausing, you struggled with a response.

“Absolutely!”

Jim answered for you with nonchalance, while his grip on you tightened. For a split second you both exchanged a gaze of reassurance. And you had never been more relieved. The secret was safe.

“So…”, Turning towards the couple, Jim began, “How did you lovebirds meet then?”

Hesitation was certainly not in Yara’s vocabulary when she offered to speak. Leaving her sight, your eyes darted towards the the chilled beer that Jim placed on the table. You smiled to yourself. They were certainly filled with memories.

Reminiscing your first meeting with Jim Davis, never failed to be exciting every single time. Before Yara ended up in your life, there was Cindy. Noticing your evident sadness due to her surprise transfer to USC*, Cindy was hell bent in comforting you, thus suggesting you join her and her boyfriend Ray for a night out in South Central. You agreed, being desperate enough to spend the final few days with your roommate. Situated at the suburbs, this bar was small, intimate and seemingly inhabited by those who knew Ray, which resulted in a welcoming atmosphere upon arrival. Though the place was mostly filled with gangsters, you did not care for the slightest, when especially you found yourself falling for the unexpected; The beer.

Chilled to perfection, the beer there was unlike any that you had tasted before. And it was certainly a surprise, given they were the usual brands. You could not fathom the refreshing sensation that trickled down your throat with the first sip. That sensation tempted your hips to sway, urged your feet to move in rhythm. All in syncopation with the music that played in the jukebox under the dim lights. Until finally bumping into a man woke you from your intoxication. A man you were fascinated with in an instant:

Jim Luther Davis.

Such a pity that Yara’s gusto-filled story barely reached your ears. For reliving a memory simply seemed sweeter for you. Thus, you continued to do so.

Fortunately, Jim Davis did not end up being a handsome stranger that you simply bumped into, for coincidence had other plans. Especially, when he and Mike Alonzo turned out to be Ray’s mutual older drinking buddies. You were ecstatic. Internally, of course.

With the entire group packed together in the booth table, it was one loud but engaging hangout. Except for you. Somehow you preferred to sit right next to Cindy in silence, being distracted by two things: Beer, and Jim.

Blame the chemicals embedded in your system, for you simply found yourself drawn to him. Truthfully, it did not seem so difficult to begin with. Not when he turned out to be your type in appearance. You found yourself watching him. The manner in which he listened to others with swagger and confidence, the manner in which he held himself ; They all brought a certain air to him. Your attention had pierced through all manner of secrecy that he would occasionally end up catching your gaze. And then you would look away, quick and embarrassed. Though you must admit, it was a game you thoroughly enjoyed playing. But at the same time, you felt idiotic and childish.

“Cat got yo tongue, baby?”

You blinked, looking up. Fabio, one of Ray’s friends threw the query over to your direction, all of the sudden. And with that, the table grew quiet. All the eyes landed on you, except for Jim’s. A surge of embarrassment rushed towards you when awkward silence filled the booth. For you were definitely distracted to the point you did not follow the conversation. With you struggling to form an answer, Fabio snickered:

“Yo Cindy, What’s up with yo friend? She deaf or somethin’?”

“Easy, homie”

Before Cindy could respond, Jim’s quick reply arose. And you swore your eyes caught the sight of his hand ball into a fist as his eyes had grown dark. Oddly enough, that was the comfort you needed right then.

“Don’t mind me, Fabio…” you shrugged with confidence, “I’m just a girl hooked on her Pistos” you said, enunciating the Spanish word before taking another sip. You may have smiled at him, but you knew how much you feigned it. Awkward silence remained intact. But Ray managed to save the night, by changing the topic of conversation. Slightly embarrassed, Fabio shot you a look. All before he leaned towards his friends, muttering some words in Spanish.

“You speak Spanish?”

Jim’s low query made you turn to him.

“N-No…” you answered with nervousness.

“Well…” he began, “…you should” Though his tone was of seriousness, he did not fail to flash you a soft smile that comforted you even further.

Thus, the evening progressed. And you began to notice Jim in much detail. The more you did, you discovered a warmth that seemed to trickle down your heart. For you realized, you would not be able to stop yourself from falling for him. Hard.

You smiled to yourself, relieved Yara still did not know you were drifting away in your head, stuck in a memory.

Unable to stop obsessing over him since that first night, you remembered how you found yourself returning to the same bar the following night, alone.

Stepping into the venue, you suddenly were aware how unprepared you were. Even while placing an order at the bar counter, you remembered covering your mouth with embarrassment. Was this a mistake?

“Hey Baby! ”

Jumping in your barstool, you sighed with annoyance when you realized it was Fabio sneaking up on you.

“Just…” you feigned a chuckle, “Don’t call me baby, okay?”. Evidently ignorant, Fabio seemed to have chosen to stay. To your dismay. Sporting gold chains on his neck and wrists, Fabio was on a dire attempt to emulate a thriving gangster, when he actually was just another college kid like Ray.

“So, whatcha doing all by yourself, baby? Don’t tell me…you’re here to see yo boi Fabio?”

Keep telling yourself that, you thought. Exhaling in frustration, you maintained a tight smile, “I uh…just waiting for someone” you struggled. Flashing a mischievous smile, Fabio leaned in closer. You prayed he would not notice how your nose scrunched up by his heavy cologne with disgust. And how your body tightened when his eyes scanned you from top to bottom, licking his lips by the sight of your choker and your red, floral short dress.

“Who are we kidding?” He sniggered, “You wanna piece of this, huh? Come o-” “No!” You cut him off, “I’m really…” feigning a chuckle once again, “…waiting for someone…Thanks” you said, extending your hands in defense. Given the reaction of those around you, it may have been a louder response than expected. For Fabio turned red, making it his queue to slither away. You sighed deep. Luck did not seem to get on with you from the moment you stepped in here. Was this a mistake? When you felt a finger tap you on your shoulder, you rolled your eyes and turned around. For you were ready to give Fabio a piece of your mind.

Except, it was not Fabio.

“Hey…”

Jim greeted you, his deep tone announcing his arrival. Standing at an appropriate distance, he stood tall with a hint of swagger. Your body began to finally relax by the sight, especially when your eyes were refreshed by the open plaid shirt worn along with his white vest and baggy pants.

“Hey…” breathless, you began, “Hey!” Confidence finally became you as you repeated with a smile. The bartender caught your attention the moment he placed a chilled bottle of beer on the counter before you.

“Make it two, Hermano* ” Jim said, handing the man some cash. All the sudden, guilt washed over you as you gasped: “Oh I-”

“I got this…” Jim assured, seeing you reach into your bag. Grateful, you nodded, “So…” he began, “Can seem to get enough of them Pistos, hmm?” An inquiry left his lips the moment he received his own bottle. Smiling shyly, you bit the side of your lower lip. The manner in which that word rolled out his tongue caused excitement. Besides, his mouth suddenly seemed more delectable. Oh, his mouth.

“Yeah…” you admitted, “Can’t get enough…and I hope I never will”

You added, gazing directly into his hazel orbs. It simply was a mistake to do so, given how those eyes burnt with curiousity, urging you to blush in return, “And er…” pausing, you looked down, “ I was kinda hoping I’d catch you around” you said, looking up again.

“Yeah?” Jim inquired, genuinely surprised, “Why?”

That was when you froze. He was right, what exactly was your intention of seeing him tonight? Unfathomable on how you gathered courage to blurt that silly line in the first place. What if you dragged yourself all the way here to be rejected? What if there never was a form of enthusiasm from his corner as you hoped? What if this ends up being the story of a silly sophomore college girl, having delusions over an older man?

You chuckled with a nervous tone, “Well I-…” you paused, as your pulse began to grow loud within you, “Sorry…” you muttered, sliding off the stool, “This was just a stupid idea. I should go-”

“Wait!”

You turned upon Jim’s call. Showing his bottle, he shrugged:

“These Pistos aren’t gonna get finished themselves, hmm?” He dared to pose that inquiry with a playful grin. Smiling back involuntarily, you knew you had no comeback for that.

You remembered the chill outside the bar that night. The breeze that caressed your exposed skin of your legs were still fresh in your memory. Gazing at whatever stars your eyes could make out amidst the city lights, you and Jim sipped on the chilled alcohol from the porch. Given the fact there were little to none outside, the evening was unexpectedly intimate.

“Your uh…” clearing your throat, you finally broke the surprisingly comfortable silence, “Your friend not with you tonight?”

“Mike?” Jim inquired, to which you nodded, “Nah! he’s got his hands full” he answered with a smile.

“You guys close?”

“Hell yeah…He’s my homeboy, ya know? Since we were kids”

“Sweet. Must be nice.” You smiled in return, looking back at the sky, “I uh…remember that you serve. Iraq, huh?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Fallujah* ” Jim answered with a nod, looking at you.

“Whoa…” you breathed in wonder. Silence took over once again while your tongue savored the beverage.

“And you?…UCLA?” Jim spoke before wiping his mouth, “Man! That’s some fancy ass shit right there”

“Yeah well… it ain’t a walk in the park…” you contradicted in a shy tone, forcing him to shoot you a look of concern. To which you chuckled, “I’m on scholarship, I mean…” you added, helping him come to realization, “Hehe yeah…I had to nerd my way into that gig” moving side to side, you could not help but take another sip,“But, I know…what a good thing I got going on. And I know… if I screw it up, then I’m FUCKED” you enunciated the end, which drove him to laughter. You adored how it soothed you somehow.

“Well…” he began, “…whatever fucking takes, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah…Here’s to…uh…positive shit! Hah!” You laughed as you both clinked the bottles together. The more alcohol that chose to settle in your system, the bolder you became:

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

You fully turned to him, “Being out there…in Iraq…” you continued, “I mean…I’m guessing you’ve seen some shit…” you inhaled, “you know…shit you can’t forget, right? I mean, shit like that…” you scoffed, “….that shit can fuck…you…up…” at that moment you could not help but find yourself lost in thought.

But Jim’s surprised expression made you pause. You chuckled in embarrassment.

“I’m just…guessing…” you muttered, sipping once again. Perhaps you went a tad bit too far with the blabbering. For your cheeks began to heat up with worry. Until Jim spoke:

“Well…Shit or no shit…Follow orders, that’s what we do” Instead of a frown, Jim replied, taking a huge gulp from his bottle.

“Yeah…I get it” you nodded in a fast pace. Robust, and straightforward, his attitude was to be admired. Funny you found yourself staring at his side profile long enough, his face could easily be compared to that of a statue. Perfect in proportion, your mouth began to dry out. You were attracted to him, shamelessly so.

“I-”, You paused, suppressing a grin, “…never mind”

“What? What is it?” He asked, looking at you. To which you shook your head frantically.

“Nah, it’s really silly…”

“Come on!…tell me” Fully turning, Jim insisted with a smile. His voice had its way of being persuasive. And his voice had its way of tearing your defenses down, or so it seemed. Taking a deep breath, you began:

“I kept thinking about this but…” you paused, “Last night, you said I should learn some Spanish… Why?”

Desperate for more interaction, that was your excuse. Jim responded with a shy chuckle. Certainly was worth it.

“I mean, we just met and you barely knew me…” you continued with a smile, “So…why?” As your question grew more confident, your inner desperation grew strong. Taking his last sip from the bottle, Jim surprised you by taking a step towards you:

“You really wanna know the truth?”

“Try me” , You replied, quickly finishing your own bottle, all without breaking away from his gaze.

And thank goodness you finished it. For you would have surely dropped it. Especially when Jim stood dangerously close to you, causing you to be immediately aware of the muscles between your thighs contracting. Even more so, when his irresistible eyes traveled from your very own all the way to your alcohol stained lips.

“Cause…” he purred, “…you have no fucking clue how sexy you sound”

You both may have chuckled to his line, but that did not mean your pulse did not quicken. Which increased in speed the moment his eyes took hold on yours once again. Seduction, he certainly was proficient in it. And you, were a witness. A witness who suffered from internal combustion of frustration.

You inhaled deep, “Really?” “Yeah…” he breathed in a sultry manner.

Just when you thought no force on earth could break this eye contact, the door burst open. Some men exited. Breaking away, you looked at your watch watch in an instant. You sighed. Real Life was calling you.

“I…I gotta go…” downcast, you muttered with guilt, “Class tomorrow…” adding extra guilt, you knew that excuse certainly did not put you in a good light.

“Lemme drop you then…”

Jim’s nonchalant and nonjudgmental reply urged you to look up with relief. Smiling in agreement, you watched him enter the bar with the empty bottles. And in that very moment, a tingling sensation filled with thrill washed over you, leaving no inch unattended. Butterflies returned to your stomach, fluttering harder than ever before in your life. Were you being hopeful? Could Jim Davis be desiring the same? Goosebumps traveled through you when that tingling sensation returned with much detail. Too much detail to be specific.

Until you realized it was real. And Jim’s hand was directly at fault here.

Blinking back to the present reality, your eyes caught the sight of Jim’s chilled fingers on your leg. They ran over over your inner exposed thigh in circular motion, thus, inciting the tingling sensation. Of course, no wonder the detail was accurate.

Yara and Chase were oblivious to all this, for they were caught up in their own love story as she kept yapping. But that was only the fact Jim kept on such a convincing focused face. He may be ‘listening’ to your friend, but his hand was evidently not. The longer his fingers lingered on your skin, the more you were reminded of him. And the more you began to tingle and sweat in the most unexpected places.

You were young, and unapologetically shameless. 6 months. It was exactly 6 whole months since you were last physically intimate with your boyfriend. And with studies piling up along with the expectation of a scholarship holding sophomore, ‘getting yourself off’ was never an option. Not with a roommate around.

The tingling sensation grew even stronger. And you began to hear your own quickening breath. Jim Davis’ elongated fingers, they spoke of pride. You longed for them to travel to locations far more adventurous and private than your thighs. Especially when they were rife with experience. Truthfully, it was a fact that his hands and his delicious lips and tongue were fluent in your body than your own self. Being pleasure deprived for too long, the mere thought of him ravishing you, aroused you even more. Aroused, and certainly very starved. The kind that food simply could not satisfy.

“...and under the stars…” Yara continued, holding on to Chase with lovestruck eyes, “…he told me he loved m-”

“Excuse me!”

Cutting her off, you cried out as you stood up in an instant.

“What’s up with you?” Chase inquired, whilst Yara looked offended.

“Just I gotta…pee…” you lied, eyes landing on Jim, “…now”

“Okay…” you heard Chase mutter in kind as you left the table, “…TMI, but whatever”

In all fairness, being judged was the least of your concerns. With every speedy step you took, the faster your heart began to beat. Storming into the empty ladies room, you found yourself staring at a mirror once again, with a heaving chest and noticeably flushed cheeks. It was plain to see, you were engulfed in the flames of pure arousal, and the fire needed to be put out.

And when the bathroom door opened up once again, you turned to find the fireman enter. Wearing a serious expression, it was slightly difficult to decipher his thoughts.

“I…” you struggled as Jim strode towards you, “I didn’t know what else to do-” Except he knew. When he attacked you with a passionate kiss.

Jumping into him was reflexive. Wrapping your legs around his waist seemed almost choreographed. Finally resting on the washroom sink, it was quite safe to admit how both of you were very much relieved to be the only occupants in the room. For there was no intention of holding back. Your denim skirt hiked high up, revealing your thighs in completion under the white fluorescent lights as Jim stood between your legs. And they were much cared for, as his hands gingerly rubbed them back and forth while his lips indulged yours with hunger.

“You think they know I lied?”

Breathless, you inquired with innocence. Except you did not receive an instant reply. Not when you found yourself gasping when he pulled your head back by your hair with a growl. With liberated access to your bare neck, Jim celebrated by placing equally starving kisses all over, resulting in your surprising moans.

“You think I fuckin’ care?” He chuckled into your skin, to which you could not help but chuckle back:

“Oh no, you bad boy” you purred in tease.

“Oh yeah, baby girl …” purring back, his reply incited a giggle out of you before he kissed you once again.

“Ay Papi*!” You breathed into his lips before he snatched up yours for good. Surroundings were simply irrelevant the moment the kiss turned intense, as his tongue crashed in like the rude boy he was, and grabbed onto your own tongue in a passionate embrace. They clashed against one another in frenzy, him claiming you as his. As the kiss grew deeper, your moans grew louder. When he pulled away all the sudden, whimpers left your lips with desperation. Teasing you so, Jim took a good look at you:

“¿Como esta tu Español?” He breathed low. And you were pleased that you actually understood.

How’s your Spanish?

Pressing himself against you, he began to slowly grind. You grew excited. Listening to Jim Davis speak Spanish was simply erotic in the first place. And since you have been studying it on your own for past few months, you were certainly impatient to show him.

“Yo…” you began, finding the words “…estudio pala-sorry…” with a nervous chuckle, you looked down, “..I know I suck-”

“No no…keep going” Jim insisted with a smile, bringing your chin up for a reassuring kiss, “Now say it again…” he added, maintaining eye contact with ferocity. Taking a deep breath, all the words clearly appeared in your head. Thus, you flashed a mischievous grin:

“…estudiando palabras…muy importantes”

I am studying…very important words.

Gasping was all you could do when Jim picked you up, carrying you into the nearest toilet booth. Thankfully with this restaurant being surprisingly hygienic, you did not mind. Life barely was embedded in your legs the moment he put you down, locking the door behind you to push you against it.

“Oh yeah?” He inquired, panting, “¿Cómo cuál?”

Like what?

Panting alongside him, you stood up straight, “Por ejemplo…”

For example…

Amidst his pants and his impressed expression, you grabbed his hands, placing them over your buttocks. All the while you looked at him with eyes, heavy with lust:

“¡Haz lo que quieras!”

You could not believe how confident you sounded. Smiling with equal lust in his eyes, Jim kissed you in approval, definitely pleased with what he just heard:

(Do) whatever you want!

Growling with effect, his animalistic nature was exuded as his hands gripped onto your buttocks with passion. His big, generous hands felt through every cheek with familiarity, as if they just reunited with a long lost friend. But that did not mean he forgot about all the other friends, the rest of your frame that had missed him as well. Moaning with pleasure, you began to unbutton his white shirt during in haste.

You simply adored his hands, for they were as passionate as his Spanish was. As he proceeded to hold on to your hips, your own hands roamed over his torso over his white vest. Except you froze the second his hands landed on your chest. Shaky breaths exited your lips as you shivered by his touch, for your breasts were at its most sensitivity even through your thin cardigan top. Palming them generously, Jim groaned into your lips:

“Fuck! I missed you, Guapa”

“I missed you more, Papi”

Confessing in return, you kissed him once more. Moans of desperation mixed into your kisses the moment his hands dipped inside your cardigan crop top, only to make direct contact with your untethered bosom. You winced involuntarily, even from his touch so gentle. Jim chuckled with seeming victory. And you were not afraid to admit, how you were simply in the palm of his hand.

Usually, during the peak pre-menstruation, you dared not let anyone come close to you, let alone touch you. But when it was Jim Davis, those rules halt by the door. He was a man who could maneuver his touch. However, he certainly was no good boy. Proceeding with his sweet torture during kisses, you were relieved to have a door to keep you balanced. For his long fingers, they flicked, encircled and pulled your now-sensitive nipples, keeping them fully erect and thoroughly visible even through the clothes.

Gripping his vest even tighter, you pressed your thighs together, for intense levels of pleasure and sensitivity crashed within you, akin to an avalanche. In truth, it simply was an overdose, and you could not handle. You were a mere animal trapped in this cage of frustration. But like an animal, you managed to set yourself free. You pushed Jim back with such force, that he ended up sitting on the closed toilet seat behind him. A surprised expression adorned his face when you straddled him in the process. Peeling your cardigan off your torso, you hinted your need for him. Which immediately was motivation for him to unbuckle his pants. However, his eyes did not fail to leave your sight while he did. For his eyes revealed nothing but pure amazement and hunger. He inhaled deep:

“Fuck!” He uttered, while his hand dipped into his hardened manhood.

“Yeah, that’s right Papi…” you breathed, maintaining the ironclad gaze. All the while you permitted his hand to feel the intense dampness of your opening, “Fuck me!”

And thus, public decency went flying out the window the moment the lovers fully united. The manner in which his hands rested on your bare back; whilst you moved upwards and downwards in syncopation to his thrusts, it drove you wild. The manner in which his generous and erect shaft felt so familiar inside of your tight walls, was too intoxicating as always. His mutual desperation and hunger translated well, as his lips savored on your swollen and sensitive bosom as if they were treasured food rations. Tingles were divided into million branches, impacting every form of stimuli in your system. But even in the midst of these endless waves of pleasure, that certain question from Chase yet lingered in your mind:

“And?…that’s it? You both meet at a bar one night and…then sparks flew?” “Absolutely!”

For in truth, it was not just a night of drinking and playful flirting that caused this relationship to blossom. And just like that, You could not help but recall further.

And peek into the moment that remained stored in the deepest corner of your mind. In the form of a secret.

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

With arms folded, you kept on waiting. Long enough for the chill outside to grow stronger. Long enough for you to begin pacing nervously. Even long enough for several men to exit the bar during. Given its cabin exterior, it became more and more evident that this was more of an old fashioned bar. You sighed. Jim was certainly taking a little bit too long inside.

Paranoia knocked on your heart’s door, forcing you to welcome it inside with reluctance. Thus, several questions began to occupy your thinking space. Was there trouble inside? A possible Bar Fight? You shook your head, for you were surely being delusional. Or worse, was this a part of his plan all along? The player type to ditch you for someone else? Perhaps with someone better looking that he just met. Envy formed in your heart towards a woman that possibly may not even exist. Your stomach turned in a merciless fashion. When the door opened again, a surge of hope grew in you. Could it finally be Jim?

Except it was not.

“Baby! You still around huh?”

Fabio said, in a pleased tone, exiting the bar. Clicking your tongue in an involuntary fashion, you turned away with frustration. For he was the last person you hoped to lay eyes upon.

“Hey-Wha-What’s the matter?” Fabio cried, “Can’t look at a friend?” Whilst he tapped you on the shoulder repeatedly. Alcohol was strong in his presence. And the fact he stood uncomfortably close certainly turned your stomach even more.

“Well, technically you’re not my friend” With a forced smile, you turned to him, “You’re Ray’s friend, OKAY? ” a snappy tone exited your lips. And for a split second, there was genuine offense painted in Fabio’s face.

“Just tryna be nice, jeez!” He muttered low, with arms lifted. Coming one’s senses, you finally drew in deep breath while letting your arms loose.

“I…I’m sorry, dude” you said, in a soft tone, staring the droopy eyed young man. Being Cindy’s friend, your last intention was to cause friction Ray and his friends. Your tone seemed to have been convincing enough, for Fabio flashed a soft smile in return:

“It’s okay…” he replied, to which you were relieved.

But that relief was short lived. Especially when Fabio leaned forward with puckered up lips in an instant, forcing you to gasp.

“What the hell, man?” You inquired, pushing him back with aggression.

“Ah come on, baby…” he drawled, chuckling in a playful manner, “Just one kiss…I mean, look at you! You still waiting out here. For who? I know… you really came here for me” with open arms, he went in for an embrace. Scoffing, you pushed him back again. That was when your pulse quickened again. To the point you hoped to flee.

“That’s it! I’m leaving! ”

You snapped, darting away from the entrance. The concern of leaving Jim behind or finding a cab did not seem problematic anymore, for all you needed was to get away. However, a painful cry left your lips when you felt your hair being pulled back. Your eyes widened. It was an angry Fabio.

“Ugh! Why you being such a Puta* right now, huh?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you closer “Oh wait I forgot…” he snickered, “….you don’t understand Spanish, right bitch?” turning you to him. The alcohol had certainly rendered him more maniacal than ever.

“Don’t’ be a jerk, Fabio…” You cried, as you began to swing desperate punches towards his direction. But your defenses were lowered and moot, the moment he grabbed you tight by the wrists. You gasped, “..let… me… go! HELP! ”.

However, despite your cries, no one came to your aid.

This feeling, certainly was the ‘stuff of nightmares’. This feeling, had haunted you every now and again in imagination. To have it form into reality, was worse. No matter the force you exerted to free yourself, it seemed moot. For Fabio had the upper hand with his strength. And you were overpowered with intimidation. With the heartbeat increased in record speed, your heart was on the verge of exploding with fear. For the first time, you feared for your life. You despised the fact there was no one around, the fact this bar was on the outskirts. Almost close to tears, You heavily despised the fact you may be getting hurt in more ways than one tonight.

Until you heard a bottle shatter. Loud.

Glass fragments dripped from Fabio’s head as he cried out with immense pain. His grip on you loosened before he dropped down to the ground. Only for you to find Jim Davis standing behind him, with with a bottle broken in hand, and sheer rage in his eyes.

Rolling over, Fabio caught the sight of the man, “Jim??” He groaned, “What the hell, man? Why you helping this bitch-ARGH!”

A kick in the stomach was Jim’s choice in response, which incited more cries from the fool.

“THE FUCK YOU TOUCH HER FOR, HUH?” Jim yelled, his loud voice piercing through the tension like high pressured flames. However, the question seemed rhetoric, when he continued to kick Fabio, aggression growing more and more evident, “FUCKING…ASS…HOLE!” With tightened fists, he enunciated with each kick, “MOTHERFUCKE-”

“JIM!!!!”

You cried in an instant. And that very moment was when he finally froze. That fateful moment, you watched his face change, for his expression was clear as day. As if a wave of realization washed over him. As if bitter reality surprised him with a sucker punch.

All the while he stared down at his finished product: Fabio. He watched the the young man groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; all the while a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head and his mouth, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement.

Which was transparent enough for you, the witness.

You regretted being frozen with shock. If it only was for you to control. Thankfully a shred of it reached when you finally mustered the strength to call for him out from a potential murder. Violence, Danger, your trembling heart sensed it all. All from Jim. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, despite your shock, never did you flinch. Never did your heart consider retracting from him or running away.

On the contrary, you were compelled to trust him even further. Especially when you sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go…”

You found yourself uttering those words, as you took his hand in urgency. Pulling him with haste, you both fled from the scene. Adrenaline coursing through the veins whilst running away, leaving a wounded man laying in his own mess before anyone could find out.

You remembered how Jim drove. Quiet, but focused. He drove and drove, until the bar disappeared from your sight. He drove to the point you both found yourselves ending up at a remote beach. And finally, time had returned to its normal pace once again.

Calming sounds of the ocean waves filled your ears, while the sight of the foamy waters barely were visible in the darkness. You watched Jim slowly take his hands from the wheel, rubbing his face. Your eyes widened, when you noticed his hand bleeding slightly. Perhaps from the broken bottle. You longed to speak, however no voice was present. Pushing the seat back, Jim slowly crawled over to the back of the car. Silence overpowered for too long, which urged you to clear your throat and speak:

“A…Are you ok-”

“You’re right, you know…”

You paused, upon hearing Jim’s interruption. Looking back from the front passenger seat, you found light finally shining on his face. Much to your sadness, cracks formed in your heart by the sight of his expression. Especially when silent tears streamed down his chiseled face. As if his mask of bravery was stripped away. Or even melted.

“You’re right…shit’s been crazy over there…” he chuckled with sadness, “…worse, shit’s crazy over here too…” he said, pointing at his own head.

Joining him in the backseat, you took the bandana off your head without hesitation.

“The thing’s I’ve seen…” he continued in mid-whisper, “The shit I had to do. The shit I wanted to do. It’s fucked up…so fucked up”.

It was unfathomable. Witnessing emotions of Jim Davis on variant scale in one single night, including him unveiling his vulnerability, you did not know where to begin processing. Simultaneously, those cracks in your heart, they could not help but form deeper to the point you ached inside. For a second, you were filled with an overwhelming desire for this misery in his heart to disappear. You longed for him to smile again. You froze. Were you tasting a slice of pure affection? Perhaps even, love? For him?

“It’s too fucked up…I’M fucked up-”

“Hey…hey…”

Your voice cracked when you finally began, leaning towards him, “Shhhh…It’s okay…” you said in comfort, while rubbing his forearm, “…its okay…I’m here” you said, as you occupied yourself with tending to his bleeding hand as a coping mechanism. The bleeding that he did not even notice.

With his hand on yours, the heart did feel heavier in comparison. As if his hand was magnetically powerful enough to keep you nearby. Thus, forming an attraction. Not the type that stirred the loins, but merely the kind that longed for you to wail on behalf of him. The kind to carry the pain for him. As if you did not wish to carry on another minute of your life, without knowing he would be well. And you would be lying if you did not want to show him that.

Your trembling hand reached out for his surprised face, turning it towards you with patience. The deep breath you took, it occupied your lungs in completion. Butterflies exploded in your stomach , causing a riot before you moved close. Close enough to feel his breath on your face. And close enough to press your lips on both his cheeks.

You tasted his salty tears, that stained his face. Pressing your own lips together, you hoped you could share his pain this way. Your eyes were smart, urging your voice to take a breather, whilst they gazed at his lips. Those lips that turned you greedy the moment you saw first laid eyes on them. And his trembling breaths of despair were enough for you to finally dispose of any form of hesitation.

For you finally moved to kiss him ever so gently on the lips.

With your kiss, you were there for him, in spite of it all. In spite of the violence and the tears. And the moment you instantly felt Jim kiss you back, you knew you were hopelessly his.

All the sudden, a dose of sweetness was infused with the salty kisses, weakening the flavor of the beer that lingered in his mouth. Selfishly, the need for comfort vanished. For all you needed was him. In every possible manner. Safe to say, Jim wholeheartedly agreed.

A sudden injection of passion entered your systems, setting your bodies in its entirety, in flames. Which also included the loins. Powerful enough for you to straddle him, powerful enough for Jim to flip you down to hover over you. And certainly powerful enough for the both of you to make love.

You treasured it all. The manner in which his fingers were precise, hooking on to your panties to gingerly peel them out of your frame. The manner in which his eyes gazed upon your own, then traveling all the way south to take in the sight of your now exposed opening, that dripped with wetness, blushing in its own means and begging him to explore it. Thus, it was to be expected, when you welcomed him inside you effortlessly. As if it had waited for him all your life.

Even for the first time, Jim was fast, and was rough. Yet surprisingly, you did not care. You knew where it originated. And it seemed most apt.

While he moved in body, he fled in heart. Away from the horrors, away from the pain. This resulted from his need for a distraction. Amidst the syncopated moans that filled the car, you cupped his face. Looking right into his hazel orbs, you witnessed his need. His need for a distraction. And at the peak of climax, you witnessed his desperation. His desperation, that urged you to never him go.

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

(Present)

“I failed the test…”

Jim uttered low, capturing your attention. With your face buried in his neck, you heard it louder than ever. Tilting your head, you sat up straight to face him, confusion taking over. After reaching climax following a session of passionate and exciting love-making in a restaurant toilet booth, there you both were in recovery. Never did you expect him to break the silence with a statement such as this.

“What do you mean?” You inquired in a half whisper.

“The Psych test…” Jim elaborated, while you proceeded to put your cardigan top back on, “…for the LAPD gig” sighing, he was downcast “I failed that shit…”

“No….” You breathed. The disappoint that was rife in his tone, somehow pierced through your heart. Thus, ushering in a wave of sadness that came crashing in, “Baby, I’m so sorry…” you said as you embraced him tight. To your surprise, Jim held you tightly in his arms in return. For when he buried his face on the crook of your neck and remained in silence for a mere few seconds, it was evident that was what he was required of. A rush of butteries attacked as you gently cupped his face. You loved this man, and your heart was the witness.

“Fuck the cops if the they can’t relate” you said through gritted teeth, before kissing both his cheeks, “Fuck ‘em! Cause something better is comin’ ” you added with a soft smile, while your thumb ran over his upper lip, “We just gotta ...keep our heads straight”

To your relief, Jim seemed amused, “Speaking from experience?”

You smiled with pride, “You could say that…”

Both of you chuckled. “The point is…” you continued with a deep sigh, and huge smile, “I’m glad you’re back for good, baby”

Except for his own smile, it vanished right then. And in turn, his eyes watered and they shone, reflecting nothing but desperation and vulnerability. You took pride in being the one to witness it, just as you did that fateful night a few months back. Stroking your head with both hands, his forehead gently touched yours:

“¡Eres mia!” He breathed deep.

You’re mine!

How dare he? Expanding with immense warmth and impatience, it did not take long for your heart to gain rapid pace, as it was your very first time.

“¡Si, para siempre!” You answered with confidence. For it was simply the truth.

Yes, Forever!

———————��——————————

Index

UCLA : The University of California, Los Angeles Salud: Spanish term for “Cheers!” Guapa: Spanish term for Beautiful, Gorgeous Taquitos: A Mexican Food Dish Pisto: Mexican slang. A general term for an alcoholic beverage (usually beer) USC: University of Southern California Fallujah: A city in Iraq Papi: Spanish Term for Daddy Puta: Derogatory Spanish term for bitch, whore

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thelastspeecher · 4 years ago

Text

Stanuary ‘21 - Week Three: Crime

I decided to go with one of my favorite AUs, my Superhero/villain AU, and write a scene that I should have written a while ago, to be honest. Namely, Ford convincing Stan to give up a life of crime and become a hero like he always wanted.

Shout-out to the ficlet “Farmer’s Market”, by @mythomagically-delicious, which takes place in an AU of the Superhero/villain AU. I drew some heavy inspiration from it. ;)

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

Stan made a mad dash for safety. He ducked into an alley just before the police following him rounded the corner and crouched behind a dumpster.

“Think he went in there?” one of the cops asked, nodding at the alley Stan was hiding in.

Shit! Stan took a deep breath, trying to steady his breath. No, stay calm, Stan. It’s fine. You have a backup plan, remember? As if on cue, said backup plan went into effect. There was a loud bang in the distance. Stan didn’t want to look and risk being spotted, but he knew from experience that his distraction was producing enormous plumes of ash-colored smoke.

“He’s a pyro, that’s gotta be him!” the other cop said. The two rushed off towards the planted smoke bomb and away from Stan. Still, Stan waited a few minutes to be sure. Once he was positive the coast was clear, he emerged from his hiding spot.

“Damn,” he breathed. His smoke bomb was still billowing, filling the sky with gray. “I mighta souped that one up a bit more than I needed to.”

Not long ago, Stan had discovered he could use his pyrokinesis to enhance the effects of smoke bombs. That discovery led to him learning how to make his own. Unfortunately, the method he’d used to improve store-bought smoke bombs didn’t work for his homemade ones, so he had to develop a new one. All in all, he’d invested a lot more time than he’d care to admit into his smoke bomb research.

At least it’s paying off now. The smoke bomb showed no sign of slowing down. Damn, I might have accidentally caused more smoke damage than fire damage. Stan shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. Get back to your car, get outta dodge before the cops come back and get a look at your face. Stan trudged out of the alley. He seamlessly joined the crowds that had gathered to stare at his latest disturbance.

As he mingled with the rubberneckers, Stan’s ears picked up on a nearby conversation that, for some reason, stood out more than the background muttering.

“What could cause that amount of smoke?”

“A fire.”

“Well, yes, but they put out the fire already! And the smoke isn’t coming from where the fire was.”

“My lil brother used to prank our older brother with smoke bombs…”

“Could a smoke bomb be responsible for this?”

“Only if there’s a pyro behind it.”

Stan ducked his head and picked up his pace, hoping to get far away from the two men and their eerily accurate discussion. He quickly arrived at the Stanleymobile and got in. But not until the town had faded into the distance, did he allow himself to relax.

Okay. Back to the drawing board. Can’t use a smoke bomb that attracts that much attention.

-----

Stan finally straightened his back, stretching to dispel the kinks that came from hunching over a desk for hours on end. He was back in his crappy motel room, trying to do something about his overeager smoke bombs. So far, he hadn’t had much luck.

The news blared on the TV. After a lot of trial and error, Stan had found that the news was just loud enough to provide background sound, but just boring enough to avoid being a distraction.

“In another blow to peace in the Middle East-” the newswoman began. Stan grabbed the remote.

“Nope,” he said, turning off the TV. He stood and stretched. “I’ve got my own problems, lady, I don’t need to hear about other peoples’.” His stomach rumbled.

…I could use a snack. Just as Stan was heading for the place he’d stashed his bags of chips, he felt a tingling sensation akin to feet falling asleep spread throughout his body, starting at his toes and gradually reaching his head. Though it felt familiar, it took him a moment to place it. He blinked, and he wasn’t in the motel room anymore. But the dorm room he was in now looked just as bad.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re not nude,” said the man standing in front of Stan. “It’s been some time since I summoned a person, and I was worried I might accidentally leave your clothes behind.” Stan crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow.

“You say ‘thank goodness’ now, Ford?” he asked dryly. Ford looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I might have picked it up from my roommate.”

“Good for you. Now, tell me where the hell I am so that I can go back to where I was,” Stan said. Ford blinked.

“You’re not curious as to why I summoned you after all this time?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Look, Sixer, if you wanted a nice, brotherly chat, you would’ve summoned me back when Pops first kicked me out,” Stan snapped. He fought down the small amount of happiness he felt at seeing his twin again. “But it’s been years. Which means either someone’s dead or you want something from me. And whichever one it is, I don’t care.” Stan turned on his heel and stormed for the door. As he put his hand on the doorknob, Ford spoke.

“I know,” Ford said softly. “You don’t care about me, about yourself, or anyone else.” Stan paused.

“Why do you think I don’t care about myself?” he asked.

“Because you’ve given up.” Ford interpreted Stan’s continued silence as permission to continue. “You’ve given up on the thing that gave you drive our entire lives.”

“What?”

“Being a hero,” Ford said simply. Stan’s hand fell away from the door. His heart pounded in his ears. “I saw your latest arson on the news. Actually, I saw it in person. My roommate and I were shopping in the store next to the one you set on fire.” Stan looked over his shoulder.

“You’re not gonna snitch on me, are you?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.” Stan fully turned around. He let his hands burst into flames. “It wouldn’t end well for you if you did.” Ford didn’t react to the threat. At least, not in the way Stan expected. Rather than blowing up at him or scoffing, Ford just stared at Stan, evidently sorrowful.

“Have you really gone that far astray?” Ford asked. Stan’s mouth went dry. “Would you hurt your own twin?”

“Where’s all this coming from, huh?” Stan demanded. “What, I set a building on fire and suddenly you’re worried about me? After spending all this time pissed at me?” He threw his hands, still aflame, up in the air. “That was the secret all along! I shoulda committed a crime in front of you years ago!” That got the reaction Stan expected. Ford’s worried frown twisted into a snarl.

“I despise what you did to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to throw your life away!” Ford snapped. “Ever since we were kids, you wanted to be a hero. You worked hard to follow in Mom’s footsteps. But now? You’re perfectly fine with burning down stores and setting off smoke bombs?”

“Why do you care?!” Stan roared.

“Because I’m the reason you’re letting all your potential go to waste!” Ford shouted. Stan stared at him in shock, the fire around his hands finally smothered. Ford’s eyes widened. He looked away. Stan stepped forward.

“What do you-”

“You heard me,” Ford said tartly. He looked down at his feet. “I- I hate what you did to me. But I can’t deny my role in your current situation.” Stan opened his mouth. “And the reason why I summoned you now…” Ford took a steadying breath. “I started feeling guilty the moment Mom kicked out Pops for what he did. But I’ve been able to stifle that guilt under anger.”

“Until today.”

“Until today,” Ford repeated. He took another breath. “When I realized you had committed that arson, I knew you had given up on your dream of being a hero, and I couldn’t ignore the guilt any longer.”

“Why?”

“Honestly?” Ford looked up at Stan. He managed a weak smile. “Because you’d be a damn good superhero, Stanley. You could do so much, help so many people, save lives! And that’s been your goal since we were children.”

“Because I could help other people.”

“Because it’s what you were meant to do. Mom saw that in you, even before your powers manifested. I saw that in you. Hell, Pops saw it in you, too.” Stan raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “He saw it in you,” Ford insisted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “He just didn’t care about supers.”

“You’re right about that,” Stan said. He cleared his throat. “And you might be right about the other things, too.” Ford perked up. “Everything’s not suddenly hunky-dory, just so you know.”

“I know. I have negative feelings towards you that have yet to be resolved.”

“Yeah. Same for me, but in a less nerdy way,” Stan said. Ford rolled his eyes. “But…” Stan trailed off. He sighed. “I turned to a life of crime ‘cause I didn’t have a choice. But I never felt that great about it.” A faint smile quirked the corners of Stan’s mouth. “Call it Mom’s influence. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I was meant to follow in her footsteps.”

“Of course not. You were meant to become a hero,” Ford said. Stan’s smile grew stronger. “We both have issues to work out, between the two of us, but I don’t want you to give up on your destiny.” Stan let out a bark of laughter.

“Destiny, huh?” He grinned at Ford. “Well, when you say it like that, I can’t really say you’re wrong, can I?” Ford smiled back.

“So you’ll give up crime?”

“Yeah.” Stan cocked his head thoughtfully. “Not until after I fill up the Stanleymobile one more time, though. She’s running low on gas. Once that’s done, I’ll go back on the straight and narrow. Just gotta figure out how to join the Defenders or whatever.”

“There’s a newer team on the West Coast that I think you have a better chance at joining,” Ford said. Stan shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll look into ‘em.” Ford nodded in relief. “Oh, by the way, remember our deal?”

“Deal?”

“Every time you summon me without warning, you owe me food,” Stan said.

“Wh- we made that agreement when we were children!”

“And I’m holding you to it,” Stan said. “I’m guessing you brought me back into town when you summoned me?”

“Yes.”

“My motel isn’t too far away, so I’ll be back at 6 for dinner.” Ford sighed.

“Very well.”

“See you then.” Stan opened the dorm room door and strolled out, whistling. As he walked out, Ford’s roommate Fiddleford walked in. Fiddleford looked curiously at Ford.

“Ya had a visitor while I was out?”

“Yes.”

“Was it a good visit?”

“Yes. It was.”

“That’s nice.” Fiddleford walked over to his bed and set his bag down. “I found what I wanted at the library.”

“What were you looking for, again?”

“Blueprints.”

“For?” Ford pried. A devious twinkle appeared in Fiddleford’s eyes.

“Haywood Hall.”

“The building that all our school records are kept in?”

“Yessir!” Fiddleford chirped. He began to dig around in his bag. “Surprisingly easy to get.”

“I’m shocked that they even allowed you to check them out of the library,” Ford said. Fiddleford hummed noncommittally. Ford’s eyes widened.

Wait, Stan doesn’t have the Stanleymobile. How is he going to get back to his motel? Ford closed his eyes and focused. A surge of power flowed through him. There was a shout from outside.

“What the fuck?!” Ford walked over to the window and looked out. Stan stood in the parking lot, staring at his red El Diablo. He looked up at the dorm. After a moment, he lifted his middle finger.

Ford snickered.

#Stanuary #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Superhero/villain AU #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years ago

Text

summertime mindset - pt. 6

stargazing & sexile

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 1.9k

note from the writer: enjoy darlings this is really soft and lowkey a filler.

SUMMERTIME

You loved your family, you really, truly, did. But you were also twenty and being trapped under the same roof as them when you were used to having the freedom of your dorm and friends’ apartments while at college made everything feel a bit too suffocating.

It was late at night, and you were lamenting this to Tyson while you were curled up in bed and he was at his own house. You were about ready to give up and try to go to sleep, but then Tyson sent you a text and told you to meet him out front.

You tugged on a sweatshirt and exchanged your sleep shorts for leggings, slipping into your shoes before sneaking down and out of the house. Tyson was already waiting for you at the end of the driveway in his car, and he waved you over with his trademark grin.

“Where are we going?” You asked, though not knowing wasn’t stopping you from opening the passenger door and sliding inside. Tyson met you halfway over the center console for a kiss before he let you buckle up and he shifted the car into gear.

“It’s a surprise.” You chuckled at him, shaking your head in mirth. Turning in your seat, you admired how he looked in the low light.

“You expect me to just get in a car with you without knowing where you’re taking me? At eleven at night?” You teased, and it was his turn to shake his head.

“We’re going for a drive, you said you had to get out of the house.” Tyson explained. Your heart soared at the gesture, and if you weren’t constricted by the seat belt and conscious of Tyson’s less than perfect driving skills you would have leaned over and given him a kiss. Instead, you pecked his shoulder before unplugging his phone from the aux and playing your music. It was a rule between the two of you, passenger picks music. Still, he playfully scoffed as he watched you.

“Oh please, you kidnap me, I get to choose the music.” You huffed with a smile. Tyson chuckled, reaching over to thread his fingers with yours and set your conjoined hands on your thigh. You tugged, bringing his hand to your lips so you could kiss the back of his before leaning back into your seat.

This was undoubtedly one of your favorite moments of the summer so far. The windows were cracked and though it was night, the air that was blowing into the car was nice and cooled your skin that had been warmed from being in the sun all day. Your music was quietly playing and perfectly suited for the atmosphere of a late-night drive with Tyson.

He was your favorite part of the whole scenario, no contest. He was singing under his breath as he drove through the streets, occasionally stealing glances at you with a softness in his eyes that had you melting even more so into your seat. You were so distracted by him that you didn’t even realize he had driven to an open field until the car was in park.

When you shot him a confused look, he simply shrugged his shoulders and squeezed your hand before climbing out of the car. You followed his actions, your confusion only growing when he opened the back of the car and pulled out a picnic blanket and what looked suspiciously like the comforter off of his bed. It was only once he laid the picnic blanket down and laid down that you realized that he was taking you stargazing.

As soon as you laid down beside him he started to pull the comforter over both of your legs, only pausing to focus on the sweet kiss you gave him. You both pulled away grinning like fools, and there was a fondness in his eyes that you had never seen before that had you leaning in for another peck.

“Surprise.” He teased, laying back and folding one hand behind his head and the other moving around you to pull you into his side. You chuckled, snuggling into his side as your gaze studied the stars above you.

The view in the sky was beautiful, but the man lying beside you, running his fingers up and down your arm absentmindedly, was stunning.

PRESENT

You should have expected it, really, when your roommate texted you and said not to come back to the apartment for a while since she was having some guy over. The text had come in the middle of you getting dinner with some coworkers, so you were doing the most to stall going back.

Which was how you found yourself sitting in your car in your building’s parking garage, Tyson’s contact pulled up and the number about to be dialed.

You had tried to get a hold of Jon, you had made up since he stormed out of your apartment, but he wasn’t answering, and you really just needed to see if someone was willing to hangout. When you finally dialed Tyson’s number, it didn’t take long for him to pick up.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was cheerful, and you could hear people in the background of his line, but they were growing fainter, so you assumed that he was going somewhere quieter.

“Nothing really, I was just calling you to see if you were busy.” From the noises on the other end of the line, you knew he was doing something, but that didn’t stop you from being hopeful. “I’m sexiled from my apartment for the foreseeable future.”

“I mean, I’m just having dinner at Gabe’s and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you came over.” You bit your lip at the offer, but as much as you wanted to take him up on it, it wasn’t his place to invite you over. You had met the captain and his wife a few times, and you really liked them, but you were in no way close enough to just show up at their house and crash a dinner party.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You replied, shaking your head despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. There was some shuffling on his end of the line, and you heard the people talking in the background get louder. Someone, JT, you think, asked who Tyson was on the phone with and he responded with your name.

“Landy come tell her she wouldn’t be intruding if she came over!” He yelled into the line, loud enough to have you pulling your phone from your ear. There was some more shuffling, and it sounded like a wrestling match for Tyson’s phone. Your suspicions were proven correct when the voice that spoke next decidedly did not belong to your brunette friend.

“I promise you’re invited.” Gabe told you, and you could just picture the shit eating grin he was most likely wearing as you heard Tyson complain about wanting his phone back. “You’re more welcome than Josty, if I’m being honest.” You chuckled at this, especially since you could hear Tyson let out an offended ‘Hey!’ from wherever he was on the other end of the line. You let out a defeated sigh, putting your key in the engine and twisting to turn your car on.

“What’s the address?”

Twenty minutes later you found yourself in an expensive neighborhood you would typically have no business being in. You were in awe of the large houses, probably as a result of the one too many HGTV shows you’ve watched. You texted Tyson that you had arrived and by the time you were walking up the driveway the front door opened, and he greeted you with a beaming smile and a wave.

You were swept into his arms the moment you were close enough, the familiar feeling enough to make you forget about your stressful day and how you really needed to look into finding a new apartment. Inside the house, you were met with the usual suspects: EJ, JT, Sam, Nate, Cale, Andre, and Mikko, plus any accompanying significant others. And, of course, the hosts, little baby Linnea catching your eye from the moment you entered the living room where everyone had gathered.

“Why are you dressed so fancy?” Sam teased as soon as you entered the room. You rolled your eyes, making your way to Mel, who was already asking if you wanted to hold her daughter.

“This isn’t fancy, they’re my work clothes.” You reasoned, gesturing towards your simple slacks and blouse. To be fair, it was more dressed up than the jeans and t-shirts he was used to seeing you in. “I had a late meeting, and then I grabbed dinner with some coworkers.”

“Tyson told us you got sexiled.” EJ grinned, and you hushed him, covering Linnea’s ears with your free hand as you kept her curled into you with the other. “What? She won’t remember this!”

“Yeah, but Cale will.” You chirped, sinking into the couch next to Tyson. His arm was resting on the back of the couch behind you but dropped around your shoulders as soon as you settled. The guys all laughed as you teased the rookie for his innocence, and Cale took the chirp in stride.

“I know that’s my baby, but you guys look like the cutest little family. You guys are so good together.” Mel commented and you felt your blood run cold. Part of you hoped she was talking about Andre and Mikko, who were sharing a loveseat on the opposite side of the room, but you knew your luck wasn’t that good.

“I, uh, have a boyfriend, actually. That’s not Tyson.” You coughed out after a moment of silence. Mel started sputtering out apologies, and the boys broke out in loud and obnoxious laughter. Beside you, Tyson chuckled, his heart clearly not in it but you elected to ignore it. That was a bit too much for you to unpack at the moment, especially in a room full of people.

“Gabe didn’t tell me.” Mel swatted her husband’s shoulder as she spoke, who in return raised his hands as proclaiming his innocence. You waved her off as best you could while still bouncing Linnea in your arms, but she shot you one last sorrowful look before thankfully Nate piped up with a story about something embarrassing that happened at practice that drew everyone’s attention off of you.

“Sorry if they made you uncomfortable.” Tyson whispered so only you could hear. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, spotting an unreadable look on his face. You smiled at him, a little too forced for reasons you couldn’t quite place, before turning back to the blue-eyed baby blinking up at you from your arms.

“Don’t worry about it. We always were told we made a cute couple, even back then.” You told him without really thinking. You tensed after you spoke, you never really talked about your past relationship and you weren’t sure what had coerced you into doing so just then. Tyson didn’t respond at first, and you risked a glance at him to see he was smiling faintly, that still unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t place. He leaned back into his seat, arm tightening over your shoulders just a tad bit more.

“Yeah, we got that a lot, didn’t we?”

#tyson jost #Tyson Jost x reader #Tyson Jost series #Tyson Jost imagine #Tyson Jost fic #Colorado Avalanche #Colorado Avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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cheezritsu · 4 years ago

Text

Taiwa 2014

Summary: It’s been a long time since Tsukishima has traveled back to his hometown, Taiwa. The last time he was here, he was moving out. But even still, there’s this unsettling feeling that he never truly left. Everything that ever mattered to him, Karasuno, Yamaguchi, his family, they were still here, like always. So why did it feel like something was missing?

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei X Reader

Word Count: 9.7K

A/N: I’m bringing what’s probably one of my favorite fics over to tumblr. crossposted on AO3 if you prefer the format. Also pain; lots of pain.

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Sitting in Yamaguchi’s car with the windows down, messing up the left side of Tsukishima’s (too long) hair, he recalls one of the reasons he left Miyagi.

He has resigned to not lean his arm outside, because the grey exterior has super heated to an ungodly degree, and he’s sure there’s a 1st degree burn that will be agitated the moment it slides against a volleyball court. He joked that Yamaguchi was trying to sabotage him, that maybe if they weren’t best friends he’d actually be upset.

But it’s not like Yamaguchi can block out the sun. He didn’t remember Miyagi summers being so damn brutal, especially not in June. The sun beamed down on them as if God had a laser pointer on Yamaguchi’s Acura LX, which seemed pretty harsh even if the car was old.

Sendai fades into the background, and the buildings get shorter and shorter like they’re descending stairs. Telephone wires criss cross the highways overhead, and incoming traffic gets a little congested. Yamaguchi leans back, exhaling slowly through his nose.

“It’s always like this now. Everyone’s moving out of Tokyo and coming up north and for what? So they can hike up grocery store prices?”

“That’s awfully prejudiced of you, Yamaguchi. Why would they raise prices if they don’t know how to cook?”

Yamaguchi laughs. “Tokyo boys ain’t shit.”

“Careful,” Tsukishima gives a close lipped smile. “Your country accent is slipping through.”

“Yours is all gone.”

“I never had an accent.”

Yamaguchi hums when he grips the steering wheel, jerking the car left as he changes lanes. “Sure.”

Tsukishima keeps his mouth shut, as if sealing the evidence.

The rip of motorbikes replaces the stalled car engines as his hometown becomes a highway exit. Like it’s been anything other than that.

Tsukishima reels as they start to pass familiar landmarks. He never realized it was all so close together; it seemed like trips that used to take hours were now whizzing past at the blink of an eye. It couldn’t be Yamaguchi’s featherfoot on the gas, either.

Suburbs isn't the right word to describe Taiwa. Hinata used to ride his bike uphill both ways to get to Karasuno, and all of his friends were spread out across the large expanse of undeveloped land. Animals likely outnumber the amount of residents in the town. When Kuroo used to call the team country bumpkin crows, he wasn’t exaggerating.

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, and Yamaguchi’s gaze flickers over. “What’s got you so upset? You just got here.”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, then catches Yamaguchi still trying to look at him. “If I tell you, will you keep your eyes on the road?”

“As long as you don’t tell me something that’ll make me crash the car.”

“Just don’t crash the fucking car?”

“Spit it out, Tsukki!”

He grumbles at the old nickname. “I get enough of Koganegawa calling me that, thank you.” Date Tech’s school used to feel hours away; how long would it take under the wheels of this thing?

“Everything’s just. Closer than I remember.”

“Closer?”

“The places, I mean. The town feels smaller.”

A snort. “Sure is, hot shot. I see you got acclimated to Saitama real nice.”

There’s something charming about the northern drawl of Yamaguchi’s words he knew he’d hate coming out of his own mouth. “It’s not the same.”

Yamaguchi’s chuckle tapers into a sigh. “Neither are you.”

The blocks become residential, and houses he used to know are obscured into oblivion. The people that bike by are different, the parked cars are newer, while some faces are just older in a way that settles like lead in Tsukishima’s stomach.

And then he sees it: the house with wood paneling in the front, white everywhere else. Atop the stone pillars are the plants still taller than him, even though he’s upwards of 195cm these days. White undershirts catch the summer breeze on the clothesline, billowing like flags. Cross-hatched metal gate, a new car in the driveway. Faded pink door.

Your house. With a for sale sign in the window.

Tsukishima nearly breaks his neck as Yamaguchi passes it without so much as a glance.

“Did you see that?”

“What?” Yamaguchi checks his mirrors. “Did I see what?”

The houses blend together once again. Everyone on the street carries on like Tsukishima hasn’t been shot through the chest. He slumps into his seat, listening to dogs barking and the laughter of children as everything goes accordingly.

“It’s nothing. A kid fell off his skateboard. It looked pretty awful.”

Yamaguchi hesitates, but doesn’t question it. He minds his business, even when Tsukishima’s scowl falls into something a little more melancholy than usual.

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Tsukishima frowned from his post at the front desk, annoyed how your presence alone could stir...things in him.

It had been a long time since he’d seen you at the museum. Perhaps that was good for his job security, but when he saw you walking up to him in a wool blazer that looks like a mirror image of the one he had on, he couldn’t help but admit he’d missed you. He didn’t know where you’d been, and he wanted to ask, but you flashed him the 460 yen entrance fee before he could speak.

“I’ll take the 4:15 personal guided tour.”

He schooled his face to keep it flat. “How many times have I told you—”

“It’s your last day, what are they going to do, fire you?”

The sarcasm was dry, and there was no twinkle in your eye. Tsukishima sighed, taking the money and putting it in the register. His replacement, a quickly scouted kid that was barely his shoulder height, tapped away on the computer next to him. “Hey, Hiroto.”

The boy was obviously younger, probably still in high school by the way his eyes widened when his senpai called for him. “Yes, Tsukishima-sama?”

You lean against the counter. “Sama?” you mouth, lips curling into that smirk he hated to love.

“Take over the front desk for me. I have a tour to do.”

Hiroto squinted in confusion, but as soon as Tsukishima slid out of the booth the kid immediately took his place. He looked so nervous and unsure, and you, still leaning over the counter, sent him a wink.

“Don’t worry kid, just make sure you turn this over.” Your fingers toyed with a plaque, tipping it over so it read Closed. Then, you cupped one hand over your mouth, whispering close to his ear.

“This guy sucks at customer service anyways, and they kept him for a whole year.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes at your loud-as-all-hell whisper, pulling your arm.

“Leave the kid alone.”

“I’m just giving him some friendly advice!”

“You’re going to give him a lot more than that if you keep with the “friendly” attitude.” Hiroto looked absolutely mortified, standing like a wooden plank at the front desk. You hummed.

“How old is he?”

Tsukishima ignored your question. You looped your arm with his. “I feel like college students keep getting smaller and smaller these days.”

“That’s because you hung out with giants.”

You walked through an ornate archway into an octagonal room filled with glass cases of samurai memorabilia. The armour room had only a few stragglers left, all of them in silent contemplation. Against the archway, an employee Tsukishima recognized gave him a long glance as you two strolled past, but Tsukishima was more preoccupied with looking at you. He would sneak glances at your reflection in the glass, concerned by the indifferent frown you sported. Maybe it was the exhibits; samurais and swords were never your thing. But there was something he couldn’t put his finger on that made him anxious.

You either didn’t notice him staring, or you didn’t care. Waltzing through the halls like you were the guide, you two stepped into the completely secluded painting wing. Sharp angled walls jutted out to create more surfaces to hang the portraits. You tilted your chin, studying them like an art critic.

“Are you going to miss working here?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “It was fine. Gave me a use for my degree.”

“You regretting college now that you’re a superstar athlete?” The words are punctuated with tiny jabs to his arm, but they lack conviction. “Kinda seems like a waste, huh?”

Tsukishima frowned. The implication that the past four years spent being in your care and watching over you were suddenly useless didn’t sit right with him. “It’s not like I didn’t like it.”

“I know,” you sighed, moving onto the next painting. “It just seems like a detour now, doesn’t it? I mean, you’re a pro-athlete.”

There was a stress on how you said “athlete” that didn’t slip past him. He realized what was so off: you weren’t imitating the goofy poses of the long dead samurai anymore. Your all black outfit, once chic, seemed like you were in mourning. The heel clicks of your loafers brought his eyes back to you, where you stood with your hands grasped behind your back, pulling your fingers tightly.

Tsukishima drew up to your side. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You whipped your head around like you’ve been caught. “What’re you talking about?”

He snorted. “You’re a bad liar, you know. Your accent is your tell.”

“Shut,” you started to say, though it lacked a hard T and it made Tsukishima laugh. “Shut up.”

It almost feels normal between you two. Almost.

“It’s been weird, you know,” you started, voice barely a whisper. You looked like you were talking to Date Masamune’s portrait when you said “I’m back at home, and you’re not there anymore.”

He didn’t know why you were saying that. He should have kicked himself in the ass and given you some kind of reassurance, but he was frozen, mouth agape with an unasked question.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Tsukishima always thought your profile should have been on these walls. You looked regal, even with your eyes fixed on the ground and an ashamed smile. “Who woulda thought two kids from Taiwa would be all the way out here, hm?” Your chuckle is self deprecating. “And now you’re gunna be playing for a Division One team in Saitama. Fuckin’ hot shot.”

You finally turn to him, head cocked with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m glad you’re getting out, Tsukki. It’s what you wanted, right?”

He can’t pinpoint what’s wrong with this image. Sometimes, it appears to him in dreams, your smile warped and faded like an overexposed photograph. The right words are floating in the ether above him, elusive, mocking. But he is destined to say the wrong ones.

“Yes, it is.”

You looked into Masamune’s eyes once again, like you could read the brush strokes and find the answer to the universe in them. “You deserve it, you know. Miyagi never suited you.”

The irony was lost on him, as were most things in the moment. Your presence had now soured his mood, but you hooked your arms through his like nothing was wrong.

“C’mon, this is the last time I’ll ever step foot in the place again; tell me something cool.”

You didn’t say “probably.” Tsukishima dwells on this now more than ever, because his response never addressed that. “Did you know there’s an anime series based on the Date Clan?”

Your laugh; that’s what he was more focused on. The way it lit up your face, and how you said “seriously?” a little too loud for the dead silent museum. Tsukishima hasn’t been back to Sendai City museum either, because this memory is pristine, and it’s the last one he has of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tsukishima’s family is still the same.

His mother has kept her hair short for the past fifteen years of her life, and Tsukishima might have a childlike tantrum if she’d cut it otherwise. But when Yamaguchi pulls up to his childhood home, she steps out of the house with her signature bob, sans a couple more grey hairs.

The way golden hour makes his mother look ethereal never ceases to make him smile. She gives Yamaguchi a one-armed hug as he carries Tsukishima’s luggage inside, and Yamaguchi kisses her on the cheek like a better son would.

All Tsukishima can do is stand in front of her with his hands behind his back, head dipped with a bashful smile as his mother cocks her hands on her hips. He feels sixteen again, fidgeting with his fingers when she comes closer, giving him a smile that could coax anything out of him.

“You never stop growing, do you?” She has to stand on her toes to brush back his fringe. “Even your hairs’ gotten longer.”

“Can you cut it for me? I only trust you.”

A smile. He’s suddenly even younger; twelve years old, standing in front of the house and holding up the award from the science fair. His mother is so brilliant that the sun goes away, shamed by her beauty.

“Of course, Kei. Come on, your brother’s waiting.”

Nothing’s changed in the house. Muscle memory brings him to the kitchen, where the table is set for four. Yamaguchi sheds his jacket, but Akiteru swoops behind him, snatching it from his hands.

“I’ll take that, Tadashi.” He’s as smooth and polite as ever, grinning the megawatt smile he inherited from their mother. Akiteru may be a full head shorter than Kei now, but the slap his older brother gives him still makes him lose balance.

“You done growin’ yet, you little jerk? Huh?” Akiteru has grown less doting in years gone by, much to Tsukishima’s own (disgusted) dismay. Akiteru stops, looking him up and down before that teasing grin distills into something prideful. In a flash, he is pulled into a tight hug, the pats on his back more tepid and loving. Tsukishima leans in for only a moment, and then Akiteru holds him at arms’ length.

He suspects Akiteru will say something sappy, but Yamaguchi’s jacket is thrust into his arms. “Be a good friend and put away Tadashi’s coat, will you?” He gives an infuriating wink before helping his mother in the kitchen.

Tsukishima turns, even if only to hide the sentimental smile that graces his lips. When dinner is finally ready, Tsukishima sits beside Yamaguchi, facing his mother, and suddenly he is nine years old again; Yamaguchi is over for dinner and Akiteru will no doubt embarrass him, but it’s okay because mom cooked their favorite. Time stands still and the sun doesn’t set, not for them.

It’s almost enough to make him forget. Almost.

“Did you know the (Surname) house is for sale?”

Yamaguchi blinks, but his mother doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you saw?”

“It’s the one on the way here, with the pink door. It’s hard to miss.” Tsukishima keeps eating like its normal conversation--isn’t it?--but Yamaguchi’s eyes are trying to x-ray his skull.

“It’s been up for a little while, hasn’t it Aki?”

Akiteru, who’s sixth sense is his little brother’s emotions, clears his throat. “Probably since March.”

“They’ve been wanting to get rid of that house since (Name) left.”

Hearing your name out of another person’s mouth sends a ripple through Tsukishima, like he’s been punched in the stomach. Akiteru and Yamaguchi don’t miss the way his breath hitches, how he drops his utensils to crack his knuckles.

“It’s probably too big for them anyways,” he says, returning to his meal, head bowed so he can’t see their prying eyes. “They’re getting kind of old.”

“It’s been so long since it was full, hasn’t it? Their older daughter moved out over a year ago, I think.”

His mother’s words buzz in his ears as the conversation dornes on. Akiteru steers it away from the house, asking about Tsukishima’s appointed condo in Saitama, but he only gives one word answers through the fog in his mind.

Suddenly, he is eighteen, time fast forwarding as his glasses change and his hair gets shaggier, and you, like his mother, brush it out of his vision. Yamaguchi sits on Akiteru’s left because Tsukishima scowled at the idea of you sitting next to his brother. It’s not like it even matters, because you aren’t his: everyone in the room is showering you with attention and you have to divide yourself four ways, giving them individualized smiles.

“--(Name) really broke their hearts when she left.”

“Huh?”

As it turns out, eighteen wasn’t so long ago. His mother smiles fondly at a memory. “She was a firecracker, wasn’t she? Used to walk around like she owned the place. Her older sister was always more respectful.”

“Wasn’t her older sister in a rock band?” Akiteru reminisces.

“Yeah, but which one was constantly skipping school and getting caught with boys?”

“Younger sibling privileges. They get to do whatever they want and never get punished.”

His mother laces bridges her fingers, then leans her chin down. “But everyone still loved her, didn’t they?” His mother’s eyes are far away, like she was in the same moment as her son. “I miss her.”

Tsukishima doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but he has to force the words out of his throat. “Why’re you all talking like she’s dead? She just lives in...wherever the hell she got whisked off to. Who knows?”

The entire table halts, staring at him. Akiteru and Yamaguchi share another secretive glance, and Tsukishima’s forehead throbs.

“Whatever, can we just talk about something else?”

Another reason Tsukishima revered his mother: she knew how to deal with him. “Of course dear,” she says, her voice never even missing a beat. “You haven’t even told us about your last match!”

“It was televised,” he drones, but Yamaguchi gangs up on him

“It was your first time playing against the Black Jackals, though.” Despite his years of practice, Yamaguchi still has some hesitance when he changes topics. “Was it satisfying blocking Hinata’s spikes? I bet you liked shutting down Miya Atsumu.”

There’s a twitch to his lips as he gives Yamaguchi a grateful glance. The rest of dinner goes off with little conflict, and Tsukishima groans when Akiteru pulls out strawberry shortcake and the alcohol that pairs poorly with it--beer.

“I’m not drinking that.” Tsukshima means it, too, leaving his brother and Yamaguchi to their own devices. His mother cleans up easily with the extra set of hands, and while they chat over booze, he drops his things off in his old room.

It’s the same as when he left. His old books are still on the shelves, the dinosaur figures covered in a thin, disrespectful layer of dirt. His first Karasuno jersey still hangs next to his door, swinging idly when he enters.

It, like Taiwa, feels small. Perhaps it’s because his bed is still full sized, and his feet hang over the edge. His suitcase doesn’t really fit anywhere, and when he sits down at his desk, he can barely fit his knees under it. He feels like he’s in a dollhouse, or worse; a museum.

The last time he was here, he was moving out. But even still, there’s this unsettling feeling that he never truly left. Everything that ever mattered to him, Karasuno, Yamaguchi, his family, they were still here, like always.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

There’s a knock on the door he didn’t remember closing. When it opens, the light from the hallways creeps in, and Yamauchi peers inside. “Why are the lights off?”

“It wasn’t dark when I sat down.”

Yamaguchi pushes the door open with his back and when Tsukishima sees why, he lets out a snort of disbelief. “Where did you dig that up?”

The Kahlua bottle has a layer of grime on it bleach probably couldn’t cut through. It’s barely half empty, sliding across the desk into Tskishima’s waiting hands. How his friend was able to balance the bottle, a beer, and a glass of milk between his fingers was beyond him; perhaps it was the years of volleyball under his belt.

Tsukishima isn’t light handed when he pours his drink, clicking the glass with Yamaguchi’s beer and relishing it with a long sip.

“You looked like you needed it.”

“I’m fine,” he hides his lie with another sip. Yamaguchi isn’t fooled in the slightest.

“I didn’t know they’d bring it up.”

“You guys can stop using euphemisms, you know.” His amber eyes are dull when he looks over his glasses. “She’s not Beetlejuice.”

Yamaguchi laughs. “I suppose she won’t appear if we speak her name three times, but she’s frightening all the same.”

“Frightening isn’t the right word,” Tsukishima thinks, staring at how the liquor and milk swirl galaxies in his glass. Maybe if he looks hard enough he’ll find the right word to describe you, but the thought stays unfinished.

Leaning on the wall, Yamaguchi turns his head to look out the window at the last vestiges of light. “Sometimes I think I see her in the convenience store; you remember the one we used to eat at after practices in third year?” Tsukishima nods at the memory. “I’ll just be standing in line, and then out of the corner of my eye, there she is. Like a hallucination.”

Yamaguchi’s glazed eyes come back into focus, smiling sheepishly. “It’s stupid I know. It’s just,” he stares down at the floor, shifting his weight. “I know she hated Taiwa, but I thought she loved us.”

The drink has gone sour in his mouth. Tsukishima sets it down with a heavy thud, looking at Yamaguchi with a blank expression.

“I guess she didn’t.”

Yamaguchi frowns, then tilts his head back to finish his drink. “I don’t know why I thought I’d talk to you about it,” he humorlessly scoffs. “It’s been what, five years?”

“You’re the one seeing her in grocery stores. She got what she wanted; she left this place, married her rich CEO husband, and forgot about us ‘northern folk,’” Tsukishima exaggerates the accent he fought so hard not to maintain. “I’m not going down memory lane with you. Not this one.”

His tone drips with finality, and Yamaguchi pushes himself off the wall. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he says, leaving the Kahlua bottle on the desk. “But don’t act like you didn’t want her to stay, too.”

Yamaguchi leaves him alone in the dark. His footsteps pound down the staircase, and as they cease, Kei slouches into his chair, defeated. He tops off his drink, taking a miserable sip while his feet push the office chair side to side.

He spins idly, and the years unravel at the seams.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Not so suddenly, he is twenty years old. It’s not a milestone, not in Japan, not anywhere in the world, and yet, you wanted to celebrate.

The day after his birthday was a lot more memorable than the actual party. Not because he was black out drunk, but because when he came back to your apartment after getting a fabulous nights rest, he was greeted with not just you, but your three overnight guests.

“What the hell happened to them?”

It was both luck and a curse that the MSBY Black Jackals were in town for a match. The few members that knew Tsukishima had come over for his birthday party, and the morning after they were face down at your kitchen table. Instead of their usual lively antics, they were slumped with hangovers, groaning in harmony.

“You’re too loooud Tsukki!” Bokuto yelled, making Atsumu Miya hiccup.

“Bokkun, please shut the fuck up,” he whispered, that melodic Kansai dialect shriveled and dry in his throat. His presence had been most shocking, but the way he called him “the snarky middle blocker” proved that he truly did remember him.

“Language,” Hinata’s tiny voice squeaked out and you chuckled behind your hand.

“They’ve been like this all morning. apparently they can’t head back in this condition, so,” you held up a frying pan. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Yer an angel, sweetheart,” Miya said, drawing himself up from the table. “If you had any painkillers you’d be a god.”

“You better get to worshipping then,” you pointed to the cabinet. “Bottom shelf, all the way against the wall.”

“Marry me,” he joked, and Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at your laughter. There was something about how your hair was pulled back with a headband that made him want to possessively kiss your forehead, but he held himself back.

“What?” You said, and he realized you’d been staring at him too. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“There’s nothing picture worthy here. Except maybe those two.” He jabbed a thumb to the duo rolling on the floor. “Might keep it for blackmail.”

“You can’t blackmail people who don’t get embarrassed,” you reminded him, beginning to crack eggs into a bowl. Everything looked so effortless when you did it; even Miya was impressed by how you whisked together the eggs in a homogenous scramble.

“Gosh, is there anything you can’t do?”

“Basic mathematics, hold her alcohol, go five seconds during a movie without crying,” Tsukishima ticked off his fingers. “Need I continue?”

“I can’t stand you, so there’s another thing,” you bit back, and Miya laughed behind you. You hummed.

“You’ve got a pretty voice, Miya-San. Where’re you from?”

He raised an eyebrow at your compliment. “Well ain’t you sweet? I’m from Hyogo, darlin’, more specifically Kawanishi.”

The stove made that loud tick tick tick! as the flame flickers to life. It’s like that scene from Howl’s Moving Castle, and Tsukishima is enraptured at the sight of you pulling apart strips of bacon and placing them in the sizzling pan.

“Kawanishi,” you muttered, and Tsukishima knew that longing, tired voice of yours. It always broke his heart. “Is it big?”

“Not really; maybe ‘bout less than 200 thousand people.”

You scoffed. “Where I’m from, that's huge.”

The setter cocked his head. “Ain’t you from Sendai?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the last consonant. “I’m nobody from the middle of goddamn nowhere.”

“It’s not like you had to bike uphill both ways to get to school!” Hinata piped up from the table. “At least you lived closer to Karasuno than I did!”

“Ah, is that how you know this guy?” Miya jutted his chin toward the taller blonde. Their gazes met momentarily, and through Miya’s whisky brown eyes, Tsukishima saw a black hole of hunger. He looked back down to you as you drained the bacon onto a paper towel.

“Yup.” You were proud when you said it. “Tsukki and I have been together forever.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were dating.”

Tsukishima didn’t correct him, but you did. “We’re not not dating. Hell, to be honest we don’t even go that far back. We’re both from Taiwa, which isn’t really weird because it’s a huge place, even though there’s barely thirty thousand people in it.” A fond smile played on your lips, and you fixed Tsukishima with an adoring look.

“Thirty thousand people, and I lived walking distance from you. And you never even knew I existed.”

If he wanted to kiss your head before, the urge was stronger now. He licked his lips, putting the feelings aside. “What do you want me to do, apologize?”

“Hmm, no. I think I’ve harassed you enough to make up for it.”

That little smile on your lips said it all. You busied yourself with cooking once again, and Miya looked between you two like there was something tangible. If there ever was a red string of fate tied to your pinkies, it has long since been severed. But in this memory, the two of you danced around each other in the kitchen with ease, plating breakfast for five like husband and wife.

Actually, it was just four. You returned to cleaning the apartment, quite a monumental task with all the drunk volleyball players you’d had over last night. Tsukishima had dipped after everyone was either safe at home or tucked in on your couch, and daylight was not kind to the aftermath.

“This is why I didn’t ask for a party,” he said, watching as you tossed beer cans into a trash bag.

“You should be grateful she threw ya a party, string bean,” Miya said in between bites of toast. The eggs on his plate matched the blonde of his hair, and Tsukishima can never unsee this. “Even more so that it was a rager.”

“Yeah! (Name)-san has always been so nice to you.”

Tsukishima choked on his drink. “You must have gotten the memory knocked out of your head with a receive, shrimp. That woman has never been kind to me.”

“I threw you a whole party!”

“I am once again asking when I told you to do that.”

He could hear your petty insults drift away as you walked out of the living room. There was only the sounds of utensils scraping against plates until you stomped back in, holding up a box that filled your arms. It’s wrapped up perfectly, because you were always good at that; in second year of high school, every member of the volleyball team brought their Secret Santa gifts for you to wrap. You charged everyone five dollars, except for him.

When you got closer he could see the dinosaur stickers you’d placed sporadically across the surface, and Miya snorted with laughter when you unceremoniously dropped the present in Tsukishima’s lap.

“Happy birthday, asshole,” you spat, but he could see how the corners of your mouth tipped up in a suppressed smile, getting wider by the second.

“Well? Open it Tsukki!”

“Yeah, I wanna see!”

The peanut gallery beside him banged their hands on the table, and Miya groaned, clutching his forehead. “I’m begging you two to stop.”

Tsukishima let them carry on in their torture for a little while longer, liking the sight of the setter gnashing his teeth. When it became too much for even him, he opened the gift at the seams, careful not to rip the wrapping paper. It was pretty cute, and he smiled at the visual of you sitting down on your bedroom floor and strategically placing the stickers, your head bouncing to a playlist he’d shared with you.

When he lifted up one long edge, he caught a glimpse of the gift, and his breath hitched. He gazed up at you in disbelief, peeling it all back to reveal the turntable in all its glory.

Tsukishima is a pro-athlete now; he could afford music systems that cost more than a regular citizen’s car, and yet he still proudly displays this exact one in his Saitama apartment, and he always gets compliments from the girls he brings home. Above the wall, in a frame never to be touched, is the first record you ever gave him; the one he will find out momentarily was sitting under the box. But he wanted to drink in that particular moment, the moment his heart stopped completely.

The other three leaned over to get a better look at it, oohing and ahhing at the sight. Tsukishima was too busy memorizing your proud smile, your hand on your hips, and how the constriction of his heart resembled love a little too closely.

“Because you’re always lamenting you don’t have one. Just so you know, the only presents you’re ever getting from me are vinyls.”

He should have hugged you. He should have told you how much it meant to him, but he just assumed you could see it on his face. Maybe he expected too much from you.

But he did say, “Thank you, (name).” with the most sincerity he’d ever used, and you’d smiled like you knew he loved you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tsukishima knows he does not have enough money to buy a house, and isn’t even interested in buying one, but that doesn’t stop him from putting on his (second) best clothes and working through whatever the hell he’s going to say to the person who opens your (old) front door.

It’s the second dumbest thing he’s ever done. The neighborhood is bustling today, and a couple people do double takes as he strolls by with his headphones up, cap tilted low. He’s aware he kinda looks like he’s undercover in a Marvel movie, but there’s only so much he can do; height is a curse, he keeps telling people, but they never listen.

He blends in enough not to get stopped, which may be yet another curse, because then he’d have time to recollect his thoughts and ask what the fuck he thought he was doing walking to your parents house in the middle of the goddamn day like they didn’t have jobs. Had his brain finally conked out now that he was a jock for a living?

Maybe so, because the faded pink door was finally in sight. From the street he could see it clearly: a realtor’s number under the brilliant bold FOR SALE, like it’s yelling at him to leave. But his eyes drift, catching the little details of your house.

Everything in his memories has shrunk and distorted, but not this place. It’s still as clear as day: the red brick steps up to the door, lined with potted plants your mother had a talent for growing. The iron gates have rusted with time, and they stand much shorter now that he’s 195 cm. The bushes were trimmed into weird rounded shapes, both indicative of the neighborhood, and still odd in your front yard. The second story balcony had the same sheets—the same fucking ones from high school! Tsukishima had to laugh.

And then his laugh tapers off as he realizes they’re yours. Purple with little moons and cartoon bunnies on them. The sheets from Sailor Moon! Your whine is an echo in his ears.

He’s just standing there, hands in his pockets as the memories bombard him one by one, crowding his brain, making him lose his—

The front door opens, creaking like a horror movie sound effect. Tsukishima steps back, watching in terror as a figure comes into view, checking his pockets before lifting his head up and seeing a man—a fucking giant—standing right outside his house.

“Hello?” he greets cautiously, stepping closer.

Tsukishima holds in a breath. Your father has gotten old; almost all the hair on top of his head has thinned and greyed, like a samurai in a black and white movie. He’s still wearing the same uniform from the manufacturing plant he was employed at back when you were in high school, his (your) surname stitched on the pocket. He holds a lunchbox in one hand, the other curled into a defensive fist by his side. Intimidating as always.

That is until he squints, and then his eyes light up with recognition. “Tsukishima? Tsukishima Kei?”

With equal hesitation, Tsukishima walks up to the gate. Your father pushes it open, and when he walks down the steps to be on even ground with Tsukishima, he laughs at how much shorter he’s become.

“My god,” he whispers it like he’s staring at a ghost. Tsukishima feels too aware of his long legs and arms, holding them behind his back when he bows respectfully.

“(Surname)-san,” he says, and your father’s eyes twinkle. “It’s been a long time.”

“So it has. How have you been, boy? I hear you’re playing for Saitama now.”

The recognition has him reeling. It’s too much, he shouldn’t have come. His stunned silence makes your father laugh.

“No need to be modest about it! We’ve been following your progress, you know.” He sounds proud, as if he was talking to his own son. “I always brag to my coworkers that a pro-athlete used to come to my house. Three of em, really! How fortunate you’ve all been.”

“Thank you,” he says stiffly. “It’s been such a long time.”

“How is your mother?” She must be awfully lonely without you two boys in the house.”

“I’m visiting her now. She told me your house was for sale?”

Your father was never an idiot. He looks up at the for sale sign, something heavy settling on his shoulders. “Both of my daughters have moved farther away than we intended,” he sighs, although there is no particular sadness in his tone. “I’m proud of them both, really, although (Name) has less filial piety than her sister.”

“She was,” Tsukishima cannot use the word that comes to mind in front of your father. “Something.”

Your father barks out a laugh. “That’s the polite way to say she was a pain in the ass.” Tsukishima’s posture visibly relaxes. “You couldn’t tell her nothin’. Sort of a shame she’s someone’s housewife, ya know? She would have done great things.”

This time there is a wistful quality about his voice, but it vanishes as quickly as it came. “You know, you haven’t been here in a while. (Name)’s mom would love to see you. You were her favorite of all (Name)’s friends, I think.”

A paternal pat on the arm makes all thoughts of weaseling out of this fly out the window. Tsukishima ascends the steps, the top of his head brushing just underneath the archway.

“They don’t make houses for your height, I’m afraid.”

“I’m used to it.”

He wasn’t sure why he expects the inside will be any different. There’s no new furniture, the walls are all the same color, even the books your parents kept out were arranged the same way from nearly five years ago. The only difference is you’re not running down the stairs to save him from the embarrassment of talking to your parents.

“Honey?” your father’s voice calls out as they round a corner. “You’ll never believe this: there was a professional athlete just standing outside.”

You mother looks over her small glasses from where she’s sitting, her brows furrowing, then raising as she places her hand over her mouth. Much like his own mother, time has been kind to her, the only signs of aging appearing in the grey that grew from her back roots.

“Oh my-” she’s standing in front of him with an awed look, and Tsukishima remembers that you and your mom have the same face, just older. He once thought he’d get to see you this age, maybe even in a house like this. His eyes fall to the floor, because your mother looks like the future he can no longer have.

She holds his arms like she’s going to lift him, her lower lip trembling. “Look at you! So tall, still so handsome. (Name) was an idiot for never making you my son-in-law.”

It used to be embarrassment that pained him. Now it was bittersweetness filling his mouth as he thought of something to say to that. “Yeah, she was” feels a little too familiar, and not at all cognizant of his broken heart.

“Oi,’ your father warns. “Enough of that, yeah?”

“Oh,” she swats her hand in his direction, then looks back up to Tsukishima with praising eyes. “I’m kidding. Kind of.”

Tsukishima rubs his arm, giving her a strained grin. He didn’t expect your parents to reopen the wound he’s done his best to forget. Time is supposed to heal all, but you are a fever that’s never broken.

“I came by because I saw the house was for sale.”

Your mother’s face softens. “Oh, you must have so many memories here. Gosh, you haven’t been here in a long time.”

“Years” your father pipes up.

“Years. You should head up to (Name)’s room, you might find something in there.”

This simultaneously piques his interest and fills him with existential dread. “Is that alright?”

“You’re probably the last person in Taiwa that has attachments to this house besides us.”

The sobering reality of that statement makes him drag his feet up the stairs. He looks back down, and he feels like he’s staring backwards in time. Every step forward is another year, and suddenly he’s anxious like he’s entering a girl’s room for the first time.

Your presence, though missing, is overwhelming. He remembers condensation from something dripping onto the hard word floors he’s standing on now, your heart patterned socks mopping it up behind him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was still up over the horizon, late July prickling Tsukishima’s bare arms with the last vestiges of heat. Your white dress shirt was speckled with little dots of red like a blood splatter.

“You look like a homicide victim.”

“You look like you swallowed blue paint.”

Convenience store slushies were actually a terrible way to beat the heat. They condensed and made the cup soggy, meanwhile the ice in the drink melts immediately after it leaves the machine. But Tsukishima wasn’t going to say no when after ten minutes of begging, Hinata proclaimed he would buy him “his last slushie of high school.” Tsukishima had just clicked his tongue, telling the excited middle blocker, “As long as you’re paying,” so he wouldn’t see how red his ears were.

Hinata and Yamaguchi chuckled at your little back and forth, while Kageyama slurped his drink with a seriousness that didn’t suit the moment. Bathed in sunshine, you all looked like bronze statues: immortal, eternal and infallible. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, but Tsukishima still liked the analogy.

“You would think after spending like, every waking moment together these two would be nicer to each other.” Hinata hummed.

“I thought graduation might make them sentimental,” Yamaguchi sighed. His hair was long back then, decorated with multicolored clips you had strategically placed to match their uniforms. Tsukishima has told his friend once and only once that he liked this hairstyle on him the most. He doesn’t know if it’s because he has the happiest memories associated with it or not. Not that Tsukishima would ever say that.

Yamaguchi pulled his little ponytail taut. “And to think, I wanted them to get their happily ever after.” How a person could look so much like the tear drop emoji, Tsukishima would never know. Your disgusted grunt broke his thoughts.

“Ugh Yama, please,” you begged, throwing away your slushie like he’d spoiled your appetite. “Will you cut it out with this fantasy of yours?”

“What? Wouldn’t it be nice if my two friends got married?”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Tsukishima deadpanned.

“I’d divorce him and steal all his money.”

“Now you’re entertaining the thought.”

Hinata jumped excitedly. “I think it’d be really cute! You guys are going to the same University right?”

Tsukishima bristled, staring at his shorter teammate with contempt. “That means nothing.”

“It means you still have time!”

Tsukishima hated the gremlins optimism, but in that moment, with the sun painting a strip of light across your already brilliant eyes, he’d had the fleeting thought that Hinata could be right.

(He can’t kid himself. It wasn’t a passing thought; it was all consuming, like a tsunami. He couldn’t sleep, because he would dream of domesticity, and your next words cemented how unrealistic this was.)

You waved your hand at Hinata. “I’m not the marrying type, Hinata-kun.”

(A complete lie, but back in 2014, he’d believed you.)

“Besides, what’s so exciting about marriage when Kageyama’s going to be a famous athlete by next year, hm? And you’re off to fucking Brazil.”

All eyes shifted to the quiet setter, still casually drinking his slushie. When he opened his mouth to speak, his mouth was comically purple.

“Marriage isn’t any less significant than being an athlete.” He’d said, sounding very much like the student counselor. Then he grimaced. “But you two would be an unholy couple.”

You broke into piercing laughter. The sound still rings in Tsukishima’s ears. “Kags, will you join me and Tsukki in an unholy matrimony?”

“You want me to get married to you two?”

“No, idiot, she wants you to officiate the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“I-“ Tsukishima shook his head. “Good fucking question. I’m not marrying you.”

He wonders from time to time if you’d been serious back then. It didn’t make any sense when you were third years, but in retrospect, maybe, just maybe you were hinting something. That sun-made sparkle in your eyes glittered with dimension, and underneath the mirth was something Tsukishima never understood. He thought he would have more time to.

“My original point still stands,” you said, exasperated. “You’re all going off to do great things, and I’m just going to Tohoku.”

“Oi,” Tsukishima chided. “Don’t make it sound so inconsequential when I’m going there too.”

“You're literally going on a full ride with your volleyball scholarship,” you rolled your eyes. “So, no, it’s not inconsequential. It’s just not the same.”

Tsukishima will not be able to fully read you until freshman year of college, so he didn’t catch your downturned lips or how you tried to blink away welling tears. He just thought you were malfunctioning. “You’re being weird.”

“It’s not weird to miss your friends.”

“AHHH! (Name)!” Hinata jumped high enough to nearly kick you in the head. He looked at you with teary eyes and you’re astonished, even though you’ve known him for three years. “Don’t miss us! Don’t be sad!!”

“We’re not even gone yet,” Kageyama grumbles, and you grasped at your heart, confusing him.

“Kageyama...do you care about my feelings?”

“What about his response gave you that idea?”

The black haired setter clicked his tongue. “I’m just saying, we haven’t graduated yet so you don’t have anything to be sad about right now.”

“I can’t believe the Kageyama Tobio is giving me a pep talk,” you dabbed at your eyes dramatically. Kageyama flicked water onto your face, and you giggled.

“Hey!” He was relentless, so you hid behind Tsukishima who didn’t have a quick enough reaction time to be mad at you. Not that he would say anything about the way your hands touched his sides, sending a jolt down his body. His face is probably as red as a slushie.

“Kageyama, when you’re rich and famous I’m going to send all the embarrassing pictures I have to the paparazzi.”

Yamaguchi laughed at the mental image. “That would take an hour long special.”

“A two part hour long special.”

“You’re a fake friend,” Kageyama said, and you prop your head on his shoulder.

“That would imply that I don’t love you all, and that could never be true.”

You used to say such brash things so casually. Kageyama, with his congested emotions, bloomed into a furious blush. Hinata mocked him, pressing his wet hand against his heated face, much to Kageyama’s dismay. Chuckling at the freak duos antics, you shuffled into Tsukishima’s side, who simply looked on with indifference.

“You’re such a sap, (Name),” Yamaguchi notes, and you gave him a brilliant smile, more golden and beautiful than the sunset at their backs. The only thing Tsukishkma laments is that the smile wasn’t aimed at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Tsukishima walked ahead of everyone, slurping aggressively on his slushie, trying to quell the jealousy that erupted in his chest. He didn’t have the right to feel so possessive over a friendly declaration, but it still worked its way into his heart.

Suddenly you were beside him, leaning forward to catch his expression. “What’re you hiding from?”

“Who says I’m hiding.”

“Ya know, Tsukki, you shouldn’t be jealous,” Your grin is troubling and sweet, because you’re a walking contradiction. Here and gone all at once.

“Who says I’m—“

“Because I love you most of all.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The door to your room is open. Tsukishima stands at the threshold, hands stuffed in his pockets so he can’t feel them tingle as he approaches.

Already he can tell something isn’t right. The blinds are closed even though it’s the middle of the day, making slits of light like jail bars shine across the floor. The walls are completely stripped of posters and pictures, but they never stripped away the paint. The blue has faded with years gone by, and everything is a hollow shell of what it used to be.

Tsukishima steps in. It doesn’t feel like anything special, which annoys him a little. But then again, how could it feel like anything different when the room has changed so much?

It’s a storage room now. Your bed is gone, your bedside table stuck up against the wall. Your antique dresser, the one you were so proud to steal from your sister, stands alone on the far wall, no clothes sticking out. Your closet is open with suitcases crammed inside, the hangers swinging idly and the floorboards creak under his weight.

It feels colder in here. There’s no peach scented candles, no window open, no nothing. This isn’t yours. This isn’t right.

It’s blasphemous what they’ve done. Tsukishima is not an irrational, angry person, and yet he has the violent urge to take a metal baseball bat and smash everything in your room. Not your room.

Tsukishima's trembling fingertips trace over a water raised circle on your bookshelf, a scar to mark your existence. And there, on the side, where you recorded the length of your growing ivy plant, the months going down down down like a timeline until they stop. Until you’re gone with hardly a trace.

Tsukishima balls his fists. You did leave something behind. He just can’t touch it, can’t see it anywhere else but his mind's eye and he curses because no one can see how you’ve ruined his life and continue to, even in this void you’ve created in your absence.

He stops trying to control it. The memory swirls over him like a hurricane, pounding against his skull as tears well in his eyes. He falls to his knees to take a breath, then lays on the floor, in the exact spot where your bed used to be; in the middle of the room, parallel to the windows. He can almost feel the Sailor Moon sheets, closing his eyes. His panicked breathing splits into two, and like Athena from Zeus, you’ve sprung from his mind.

You’re catching your breath. The drawn curtains turn afternoon sunlight into a diffused red glow. It colors Kei’s pale skin and blonde hair a dreamy pink, and you roll onto your naked stomach, legs kicking up playfully.

Through the haze of warmth and pleasure, Kei cracks open an eye just a little bit to see you gazing at him with a sickly sweet smile. Your index finger traces his collarbone, setting fire to the skin underneath.

“What’re you doing?” He croaks, and your chuckle sends waves of pleasure to his crotch. You drag your blunt nails across his throat, and he suppresses a hiss.

“Can’t I touch you?”

“No.”

“Hmm. It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?”

In all the years that came after this, Kei couldn’t figure out why this happened. It felt like—still feels like—a fluke the universe handed out to him. It never happens again and you never talk about it.

This memory is his most prized possession: he keeps it under lock and key in the back of his mind because the way his palm tenderly connects to your cheek baffles him. His hand slides down, knuckles skimming your jaw in soft strokes, like he’s carving you out of clay.

“You said—“

“I know what I said.” Your hand catches his wrist, bringing his long, slender digits to your lips. You inspect the cuts and bruises, how they’re bent and mangled from blocking harsh spikes and slamming down equally powerful ones. You kiss them like you could heal them, and Tsukishima wouldn’t put it past you.

“Did I change your mind?” He has a smile that’s a little too smug. You’re ignoring his face and he feels anxious; he wants your eyes on his so you’ll melt, so he can devour you while you helplessly watch just how you’ll go down.

That never happens. Not with you. You open your mouth and give one clean suck to his index finger, and Kei inhales through his nose to control the heat pooling to his abdomen.

You kiss the pad of his finger. “I guess I had second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts?”

“You’re trying to get into Tohoku, right?”

“So are you.”

“Right. If we don’t get in—“

“Don’t jinx it, stupid.”

“—if I don’t get in, I don’t want to feel like I wasted my time.”

His brows furrow. Kei draws up on his side, catching himself with his elbow. His body is thoroughly wrecked from giving you everything, and he shivers upon seeing the damage on your neck. But he pushes aside all thoughts of pleasure and stares down at you. “What are you talking about?”

Your hands drag down his chest, trailing the curves and contours of the muscle he’s built up for three years. His shoulders have broadened out and his waist tapers into a trim V. He is chiseled marble, a statue come to life in your bedroom. If only he were as permanent.

Kei follows your gaze, reaching down to intertwine your hands. The gesture is obscene, intimate, and reverent all at one. “(Name),” he pleads, and your eyes flicker up to his.

“You really think you’re going to stay in Miyagi? You, Tsukishima Kei? With the handsome face and the brains and the brawn?” You’re joking, trying to put on a smile but your voice is thick with emotion. You can’t hide, not after what you’ve just done. “You’re going to be, I don’t know, something great, and I’ll be here, like always.”

(Tsukishima, the one on the cold floor with his eyes closed could laugh. What he wouldn’t give to be here, with you.)

The old him didn’t share that sentiment. “So, you wanted to have sex with me because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity?”

“You’re missing the point, Kei.”

“Hey now, just because we fucked doesn’t mean you can get familiar.”

You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but his fingers curl, locking you in. He pulls you closer so your bodies are flush, and lays his head next to yours.

“You act like you’re not more than capable of getting out on your own.”

“It’s easier for you,” you admit, words nothing but a whisper. “You’re so bright, Kei, so talented. I think it would be cruel if you didn’t leave.”

“God you’re so,” he‘s stuttering, trying to keep the awe from your voice. He can’t hide from you, not after what you’ve just said. “You don’t get it, do you? How you’re the only good thing about Taiwa, about fucking Miyagi.”

“Kei,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. “Kei stop.”

“This is the only time I’m going to say something nice about you, so.” He tilts your chin with the hand that’s bigger than your whole head, gentle as a lamb. “I don’t want to be like all the other Karasuno grads, living and dying here.”

“We can’t do anything about it.”

“Like hell we can’t. If either of us get out, if I get out, we’re going together.”

“Ha,” you laugh dryly. It certainly knocks him down a peg to hear you reject his proposition. “Please don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Well, you gotta keep up your end of the bargain. Get into Tohoku and we can take it from there. It’ll be you and me.”

“This doesn’t sound like the Tsukishima I know,” you say coyly, lopsided smirk making him crazy. “What’s got you so sentimental all of a sudden?”

“It could be that there’s someone I don’t mind being sappy for, especially if they’re naked under me.”

“I’m not—“ the words are stolen from you as Kei bruises your lips with a kiss. His hands turn your cheek toward him, and he kisses you into the mattress, all while climbing on top of you. He pulls back with a satisfied smirk, your lips glistening with (his) saliva.

“You were saying?”

You shove him and he falls back against your knees. “No, you were saying.”

Kei presses his chest against yours, kissing your neck, your jaw, then your lips in a softer kiss. “We’ll get out of here together. How does that sound?”

You don’t have a hopeful face. Your eyes have closed and you sigh, like you’re looking into the future and seeing Kei’s broken promise play over and over in your head. You two were young, but even you were less optimistic than he was.

You opened your eyes, letting your face morph into a happiness Kei now realizes is tinged with melancholy. He thinks it’s beautiful, in a tragic sense. Tragedies were timeless classics, like you.

“It sounds like you should put your money where your mouth is.”

“Do I ever disappoint?”

This brings out your real smile, beaming at him like the sun and the moon and every star in the galaxy. “Never. Not to me.”

Tsukishima lays on the cold floor with his hand over his eyes, lungs threatening to pop as he tries to exhale the guilt and heartache. None of the memories of this god forsaken town and this goddamn house hold anything but guilt, nothing but a knife in his stomach; the same one he stabbed into your back the day he signed on for the Saitama Spears and left.

He used to firmly believe that if you never try at something, it can’t break your heart. He took that attitude to volleyball and wasn’t proven wrong. Tsukishima does not know if it would hurt more if he’d tried with you. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose; he simply forgot. Somewhere in the shuffle, somewhere between keeping his promise and not, it slipped from his hands like a bad block.

He tries wiping the tears from his eyes. It’s not like thinking about it matters anymore; there’s no differentiation between the memories and the reality, only the same crushing pain.

And yet, Tsukishima finds himself dissociating into the ceiling. If he stops breathing, he can hear your laughter echo off the walls. Perhaps his ghost and yours can live here forever, like they do in his mind.

It’s the only way he can keep his promise.

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