#i also have another application sent somewhere else

[marmett]

well i have a phone interview on monday. its for a job im not like. that excited abt, but its related to my field and pays ok.

[take-everything-you-can]

REQUESTING AS A FLEETWOOD MAC FAN

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

PLS

I Want To Be With You Everywhere 🖤

18+ MDNI LIKE FRFR GO SOMEWHERE ELSE PLEASE !!!

A/N : I'm so incredibly sorry this took so long but I hope it's worth the wait my love 💕 (1k celebration) also a special thanks to everyone along the way that helped me through the worst writer's block ! I love each of you so much 🖤🖤

TW: pet names, self doubt, sexual tension,mentions of food, oral(F), marking partners, unprotected PIV, anal , double penetration, multiple orgasms...

( not really edited all that much 😅 I'm so sorry if y'all see typos ... no you didn't)

WC: 4.3k

Pairing: Steddie x Fem Reader

A year you had all been together and Steve was starting to feel like he finally found peace. It was as if the second he caught sight of you and Eddie, he felt like he was coming home. A home that would welcome him with questions about his day and small chaste kisses to his cheeks. One on either side as he would stroll in from work. A home where he could lay his head across your lap and you would run your fingers through his hair. Eddie could be found sitting on the floor beside him. Close enough to where Steve could place small pecks against the skin beneath Eddie's ear. A home where he felt loved. One you had built together.

July was the hottest it had been in decades, according to the radio ads that came across the station, playing from that little box radio Eddie had bought Steve for Chritsmas. So hot that Steve was barely able to even make it to one of the chairs that sat next to his parents pool without being completely drenched in sweat, at least not the good kind. He hoped for nothing but a lazy day by the water, but he knew that the beach was too far out for just a day trip. So he opted for inviting you and Eddie over to his parents instead.

God what a mistake that was. The heat was making him deliriously frustrated.

He watched as Eddie let you apply the thick sunscreen, layer upon layer, to his pale skin.

“I’m not going to listen to you whine because you got burnt Eddie. Fear the sun Eds. Please?" A small chuckle was earned from the boy beneath your hands.

“Me ? Fear the Sun? I could never baby.” It sent blood rushing from his brain straight south for Steve. A slight pinch to the fabric of his swimming trunks to adjust himself. He could tell that just your touch affected Eddie. How It Made him shiver with every glide of your hands across his shoulder blades. Steve wanted so desperately to be the one under that grip. Hell he wanted to be the one doing the application, if he was being completely honest with himself. A curse under his breath was directed to himself for already putting his own on. A nervous knot in his stomach only grew as the day went on.

The sun had reached its peak and you decided to go inside and make some lunch for you all to enjoy by the poolside. A few sandwiches cut into small triangles for Steve and squares for Eddie. Humming along to one of the hits that had snuck its way into your brain that had played on and off throughout the day. You had started to put back all of the different ingredients you had used in making lunch, but as you shut the fridge door you stop for a minute. You were looking at an array of photos you'd seen many times in your visit to The Harrington's place.

You found one of Steve not much older than maybe seven, holding a trophy for winning a soccer game. The same trophy that sat in his room at the top of the stairs. You see another of Steve and Eddie from a few months before you had met either boy, one where Eddie's eyes shine as Steve shows all teeth. A green robe and diploma in hand, something he looked so proud of. A moment you wish you could have been a part of. The picture that holds you the longest is the one of the three of you and Robin at a party they had all thrown you for your birthday. One where you sat facing the candles of your cake as each boy on either side of you looked at you in full adoration and no one else. The moment you knew you loved them both captured in real time.

A glance up and you could see Eddie lapping his way around the pool as Steve laid out skin to the rays to soak up some color and make those freckles more bronze and prominent. Eddie Loved when Steve was kissed by heat. He loved that radiant afterglow that his skin held and the warmth that he could feel late at night under covers.

For a man who loves the cold Winter season, for Eddie, Summer days like this held a close second. Days where he could catch you watching Steve from afar. Days where he could wiggle his way between the two of you once the sun finally set. Days like this where he could just soak in the love that poured from both of you. The days that came with nights so peaceful he swears he could hear how all of your heartbeats were in sync.

Steve raises a hand to shield the sun from his eyes as he watches Eddie round the pool for the hundredth time in the span of a few hours. It amazes him just how much energy Eddie can muster even when the temperature is almost boiling. A slight twinge of jealousy is cut short by basking in all the glory that is his lover pushing past the surface of the water. Taking one of the hair ties he keeps around his wrist, Eddie slicks back his long locks into a sloppy wet bundle. He lets a few tendrils frame the outline of his jaw, and it leaves Steve yearning, straining even.

You make your way back outside with the food and a few drinks. Cold cuts and ice tea, an offering of relief from the heat. Eddie uses his forearms to lift himself off the side of the in-ground and out of the water. Steve already knows to throw a towel over the bottom of his chair where his legs once laid, as Eddie plops down ready and waiting.

Eddie's skin begins to dry as the sun heats his shoulders and Steve lets out a small hum from beside him, nudging him with his shoulder a bit. Swallowing the last bit of his sandwich. You and Eddie had grown to accept that Steve ate fast. Within the first few minutes, if food was placed in front of him, it was gone. While Eddie would take his time savoring every last bite, and you would graze. Always had a snack in hand whether it be a bag of chips, or a peanut butter cup. The perfect it couple you thought. One who eats too slow , one who eats too fast , and the other who keeps the peace, always in between. A twist to a Goldilocks story of your own.

A few drinks deep, from the wine the Harrington's kept on tap or for the boys beer Eddie had brought long ago and kept there on a bottom shelf. It was giving you a dizzy warmth from within, it had you gulping the ice cold tea down in minutes, and unfortunately your mind began to wander. It had you deep in your thoughts, a look out on the past year.

What were you bringing to this relationship?

How did an invite to a show get you to where you are now? An instant replay of the night you met your boys started a reel behind your eyes.

Your cousin Gareth had invited you to a show that was kind of a big deal, in his words. The band he was in had played for a few years and their hard work had paid off. A bigger venue had asked them to come play, and a bigger venue meant a bigger crowd. You were so proud of him for not giving up on himself, so of course you were going to make the drive up.

The second you walked through the door you were met with a smoky haze and a packed house. You hear your name being called from afar but as you turn you're pulled into a crushing hug.

Gareth was beaming from ear to ear.

"You made it !"

"I.. I can't breathe gare." He lets you go but his arm still holds you close.

"I'm so sorry. It's just been awhile… I missed you." You could have cried right there, because it had been awhile. It had been months. Months of nothing but going to work, coming home, and doing the whole thing over again. You had stopped making time for your friends, your family. You had even stopped making time for yourself, but you couldn't let those thoughts cloud this moment for him.

"I missed you too garebear. I'm so proud of you, this crowd is insane." There had to have been well over two hundred people in the place. Seats full and still not much room to stand.

"Isn't it though. I never thought we'd make it this far but Eddie knew, from day one he knew, lucky bastard. Anything out of his mouth comes true I swear to God" You laughed, if he was the one responsible for that shine in Gareth's eyes then you'd just have to buy this guy Eddie a drink.

"Come with me backstage real quick. I want you to meet the guys." You follow Gareth down a little hallway with a bathroom on the opposite wall of the door you were walking through. Glares from the woman in waiting as they saw you getting an escort towards the private area behind a security guy guarding the entry. A roar of laughter shoots your nerves out of whack. Why were you so anxious? It's not as if Gareth was leading you to slaughter. So why did it feel like the walls were closing in?

The second you turn the corner your eyes meet the two faces you're sure are the reason for your downfall. They have their bodies turned away from you but hearing footsteps enter the room they had both turned to look at who had come in. Breathtaking, these men were most definitely sent from the gods above, sculpted to entice the most prudent of Eves. They were as if one held the apple and the other tempted you to take a bite.

Both tall, broad shoulders. One with a glow of grace and the other swallowed in hellfire. One dressed in a complimenting sweater and the other in a divinely fitted tee. Pretty, simply put these men were pretty and you couldn't help but stare. Your heart had skipped a beat and your brain could barely seek refuge in the prying eyes of the other people in the room.

"This is Jeff, he plays guitar. There we have Grant, he is our bassist. That is-"

"I'm Eddie." He steps forward, the one with the long curls and amber eyes. "I sing" he practically yells as if the words he was saying were being pulled from him with a struggle."an- and guitar."

"And I'm Steve." You hear it come from the man with the soft looking lips and even softer looking hair. "I guess you could call me a groupee." You let out a giggle that nearly makes Eddie's knees give out and Steve's stomach flutters.

How do I get her to do that again ?

From that day on you knew you were gonna have these boys in your life whether you wanted them there or not. It was instantaneous, as if you had all found the missing puzzle pieces that would make you whole.

A call of your name and a grip to your thigh brought you back to reality.

"Huh? I'm sorry, what?"

"You okay babe?" Steve was starting to worry about how quiet you had gotten.

"Yeah , I'm okay. Are you ok?"

" I'm good. You just look lost in thought, that's all honey." You give him the best smile you can as you sit, letting the sun work its way into your skin.

"You might need some more sunscreen." You say to Eddie, there was no way he hadn't washed it all off doing laps. You lean to the side your bag is sitting next to and grab a bottle of spf, handing it to Steve. He raised his brow in question but you just smirked back.

"Don't think I didn't catch you ogling us earlier when I gave Eddie the rub down. Go ahead baby he needs it unless you want to be the one rubbing aloe on him every few hours?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." A small smirk to his grin and a flush to Eddie's cheeks.

No protest, Eddie turns his back towards Steve and he waits patiently. Like a good boy, one that deserves praise for listening so well. Most days the brat in you and Eddie would send Steve up a wall, but today Eddie seemed content. You just chalk it up to the sun draining his energy but you are far off. Eddie is content because you and Steve catering to his well being fuels his fire. One he's been raking the coals of all day.

Eddie was waiting for that harsh coolness of the lotion but it never came. Unlike you Steve put some of it in his hands and warmed it with a small lather before bringing it to Eddie's skin. Steve first left a massive handprint and in turn you said the words that neither boy expected.

"It looks just like the one on your ass Eddie." A blush had made its way to Steve's chest and Eddie's ears were on fire as a choked sound came from the back of his throat.

Did it really? Eddie had noticed the large handprint that was left behind, as it had started to purple and was outlined in that grayish yellow, In the mirror a few days before as he was stepping out of the shower. The first glimpse had sent his stomach into summer-saults. A rush to the kitchen to find you and Steve, y'all had been trying to figure out what you were having for dinner.

"Did you see this?" Eddie turned to show you both as you let your jaw snap shut and Steve let out a small wolf whistle.

"Someone got you good hunny." Eddie turned clutching his towel to the front of his body as his hair flew and eyes widened. Giggles left the both of you as he stomped backwards out of the kitchen.

" oh you both just wait, you think this is soooooo funny. You know I have a shoot tomorrow! I'm gonna get you both back so good. Just wait and see." As he left the room you turned to Steve who was already waiting for the high-five coming his way.

A swipe over the lotioned handprint made Eddie shiver as he retreated back from the memory.

"I don't know when and I don't know how but trust me, revenge is most definitely on the way."

"Eddie, I bet it made the pictures for the magazine amazing." A slide of his tongue across his teeth and you knew you were right.

He and the boys of Corroded Coffin had made a small name for themselves, and they were ever growing, and had scored a small interview for Rolling Stone. Jeff had suggested a partially nude, face turned, asses out while holding their instruments picture. You and Steve knew what needed to be done. Eddie was never mad in fact it turned him on even more knowing the world was going to see just how hard you both loved him. Proof not only to the world but something simple he could cut out and hold onto.

"You think we should put it in the Christmas card collage." A loud laugh from Steve as Eddie turned to face you with his jaw dropped.

"Absolutely not. Wayne would keel over, no way." You lift off your chair leaning forward to grasp his jaw in your hand a small squish as your lips meet his.

"Whatever you say baby."

"Alright now I'm starting to feel left out." A little huff from Steve, but Eddie stands and offers his hand.

"C'mon, come swim with me before the firefly's start coming out."

You watch as the boys start an all out splash war. Giant toddlers you swore. A small laugh escaping you every time Steve played dirty and fully dunked Eddie under. A smile to the way Eddie's dimples caught like his tongue between his teeth. You made your way to the shallow end of the pool. Where a few steps led you into the water deeper and deeper the farther you got.

Sitting on the first step your lower half makes contact with the water. From where you were sitting the view of the sky was the perfect shade of ombre pinks and purples. A cotton candy swirl to end an almost perfect day, but you were still in your head.

What do I bring to the table? It's not like I'm doing anything important with my life.

Am I doing enough? It's like I'm taking far more from them than I give back.

Do they know I love them with my whole being? I think I'd cease to function without them. Ever since that day I have set eyes on them. I knew right then I was a goner.

Do they know that I'm nothing special? What's so special about an average looking woman, in her late twenties , doing god knows with her life. Why me? It echoes through once more, really delivering that final blow.

Why me?

Humming, you hear it. You had closed your eyes when you started to tear up. You throw your head back hoping the tears will dissipate before the boys notice, but the humming. It's far too close.

"Hunny, what's got you upset?" Steve watches as the tears you so desperately try to hold back find their way out the scrunched corner of your eyes as you roll your head to your shoulder. Eddie had stopped humming the second he saw your body tense in the way he knew far too well.

Steve had gathered you onto his lap as Eddie had found your hands in yours, taking a seat on the lower step beside you. They waited for you, so patient and kind. Two more reasons to tag onto the longest list in history. The reasons you loved them.

"It's ok baby, whenever you're ready." A small hum from your throat as you lifted one of your hands out of Eddie's grasp and found its home on his cheek. One he gladly always sought out, leaning into your touch. Your other hand found its way around Steve's arm, gripping as the tears became adoration for your men. The ones who stopped their own worlds from turning just to fix your own tilt.

"I love you." A statement, loud and proud. Something you often said to each other as a single statement. What was loving one without the other?

You didn't know. It was as if it had always been both, for each of you. A silent knowledge.

"Which big feelings?" Steve asks, hoping he can sway the answers you've already given yourself.

" A little sad, mostly questions about myself, about us. Confused, and honestly just a little bit meh."

"Meh is a good start. We can work with meh, even kSad , and hell I'm Confused ninety-five percent of the time. What's got you feeling these big three?" Eddie, sweet Eddie said, searching for comfort in you.

"I don't know , nothing specific happened. It's almost like I love you so much that my brain can't handle what my heart already knows. Does that make any sense?" Looking for understanding from both men, but you find certainty. You find amber eyes and dark curls. You find irises colored like chocolate melting in the summer heat with beauty marks you've lost count of. You find that none of your doubts in yourself have ever even crossed their minds , not for a second.

You find a devil's smirk, and a devious smile. You find that they are sharing a secret conversation to have you end in ruins.

"What?" Your eyes dart back and forth as you feel Steve's grip slip around your rib cage as he holds you hostage. A deep giggle from him has your spine tingling from the breathing he huffs out below your ear.

"Ed's I think we need to show our girl how much we understand. What do you think ?"

"I think we definitely should." A lunge forward to capture the thickness of your thigh has you trying to squirm out of Steve's hold.

"No! Eddieeee No! Please." But Steve's grip never faults, even with all your twists and turns in protest. That slight hint of anticipation in your voice has Steve hard, letting all the friction of your body sliding across his lap in delicious momentum. His release mounting far too quickly, a long time coming , being edged all day by just looking at you and Eddie.

Eddie has been dying to hear you all day. Knowing the sun would weaken your defense so he could handle you just the way you liked him to. To have that overpowering strength to hold your legs open and keep them that way until he got his fill of you. To have you moaning at the slight pain in overstimulation as his tongue attacked your clit until tears formed and slid from the corners of your eyes. Tears of bliss instead of confusion.

He looked up at you through dark lashes meeting your half hidden lids as your high took over , unable to move while Steve held you in place. Your body lifts in an arch as your eyes find their way back into your skull as your vision blossoms of white static and red vessels.

"Isn't she beautiful Stevie?"

"She's god damn gorgeous." His grip on you is no longer a stronghold but he keeps you seated against him, straining against the fabric of his swim trunks.

Small huffs begin to leave your mouth and your chest begins to rise and fall easier as you crack one eye open into a squint.

" There she is ."

"Hi." Steve starts to leave small kisses up and down your jaw.

"Hello , is this heaven?" Eddie burst into full laughter, loud and giddy.

"No but it feels that way sometimes doesn't it ?"

"All the time." Steve answers and you feel it , him.

A shift of your hips back against Steve has him groaning in the crook of your neck.

"I need it."

"You need what? Say it baby."

"I need you to fuck me." He nibbles at your shoulder as he glances at Eddie, who is biting his lip in anticipation for all the ways Steve could turn this.

"You think you can handle us both right now?" He leans up whispering the words into your neck as you shiver and nods as the goosebumps travel down your spine and mingle with the ache in your core.

"Words."

" I can handle both of you. I promise. Please ?"

"Well baby since you asked so nicely I don't see why we can't give our good girl what she wants . Right ed? "

" You are correct sir." A twinge in his eyes as he finally releases himself from his swim trunks and you feel his massive cock stroking the rim of your ass. You let out a deep moan as his thumb prods against you letting you feel the slight stretch. One you had grown familiar with and started salivating at the thought of the stretch that was still yet to come.

Eddie watched as your eyes fluttered close as Steve messaged his fingers within you letting the other hand play with your breast. Eddie found his dick in his hand as he watched the two of you getting off on just the sight alone.

"Please Stevie , more" a sound came from the back of Eddie's throat as he heard Steve grunt at the tightness of your hole. A strangled moan from Steve as he slides himself in completely. A grip on your shoulder that will ease when you can move.

"Fuck you guys are hot." Eddie can't take his eyes off of you and Steve. Entranced by the look in his eyes you barely register that Steve's grip lets up. You slightly move yourself off of him and slam back creating a rhythm that becomes a bounce. But it's not enough.

"I need more."

"Fuccck mee" Steve holds your hips slowing the pace as you open your legs a bit wider so Eddie can fit just as snug as Steve is.

Sliding his cock through your folds Eddie tells you to take a deep breath and he slides in easily and it feels like he knocks the breath right out of you.

Both boys have you feeling full and both find a rhythm soon that works together sending you straight into your second orgasm.

Overstimulated Steve can't hold it any longer as he spent all afternoon building this frustration he is finally letting go and as he shoots his ropes of thick cum into you , your cunt begins to clench around Eddie who is not far behind as your grip tightens in his hair.

"Your body was just made for us wasn't it love?" Just made to take cum huh?" His praise of you makes you tighten around his cock he comes undone in a thrust not far behind Harrington.

"God damn babygirl, you look so good all cock drunk and dumb." You can only nod in agreement to whatever he says and Steve kisses you on your temple as he motions for Eddie to come close so he can do the same for him.

You start humming. It's something you do sometimes after you've cum so hard your brain stops. Like a second nature your body responds instead. You start humming.

Eddie begins to hum along knowing the song since it's played over and over again as the day draws on. Neither of you expected it but Steve began to sing the lyrics a perfect end to a perfect day . " I wanna be with you everywhere…."

[lautity]

1, 4, 5, 11, 15, 16, 17, 23 with lautity/holyphone for the otp ask game :3 (no pressure to do all of these btw, i'm just really curious to hear other people's opinions on them since i dont see to many lautity shippers in the wild </3)

Ask game

HEHE its totally okay you could have sent me the whole book.....im so obsessed with them rn its not even funny. i <3 my niche ship nobody else thinks about. and im so sorry for how long this is...stuck it under a cut for safety

also note many of these answers are in the context of my silly fic/AU  but u do not have to read it to understand i included context where necessary. mostly i think abt them in terms of my AU but i think most of these are canon applicable as well

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Funny question for these two. Steph is by far more comfortable with PDA and treats it very casually, but she would probably have to slow down and match Grace's pace while she's still adjusting to being visibly in a queer relationship (especially in Hatchetfield/where she risks bumping into family or people from her congregation).

I think Grace is extremely affectionate though and once she's more comfortable (or just living somewhere she's less well known) she would probably initiate at least as much as Steph, if not more. I think she would get into the habit of hand-holding every time they're outside at some point and it would just be muscle memory to grab Steph's hand when they're walking side by side.

4. How did they first meet?

In Slow they met in middle school! Grace joined in 7th grade after attending a religious primary school, Steph failed 7th grade (too many skipped classes) and was taking it for the second time when Grace got there. They don't really interact significantly until a year or two later, but they're in the same homeroom pretty much every year in school, so they're always aware of each other in passing.

5. What is their love language?

I think for Grace the thing that makes her feel most comforted is probably physical touch, but the 'above and beyond' thing for her (and what she holds as a sign of the utmost commitment, at least on her part) is quality time. She's really punctual because she feels it's the best way to show that she cares and wants to be there + she's pedantic about attending her friend's events to show her support. She's also clingy in a 'following Steph around the house' way, she just loves to have company and another person around. Especially if that person is her girlfriend (someone who wants her around. She has not experienced much of this </3)

Steph probably appreciates words of affirmation quite a lot, especially if they're well thought-out. Also enjoys quality time (though she does need Some alone time) and is usually cool without fancy going-out stuff. Prefers casual, appreciates when people make time for her and enjoys the attention of being alone with someone. I think physical touch and being touchy is like breathing to her, just second nature with her friends and especially her partner. Throwing herself across laps and using people as pillows, always bumping shoulders. Stuff like that. it's very casual to her and it's a language for her in that it's how she says 'I feel safe and comfortable around you".

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

I sort of already talked about this LOL but I think Grace is more intentionally affectionate and is more likely to initiate cuddling or kissing (once they get over the Afraid To Initiate bit of very newly-out Grace). But obviously Steph is always just touching her anyways, often unconsciously (initially this makes Grace's head explode. but she figures it out eventually) so while everything Grace does is thought out Steph is just always being touchy without realizing it because of how relaxed/comfortable she is. I think they're pretty equally matched on like volume but Grace does initiate more Big acts of affection

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Steph has ADHD (to me.) and bad impulse control so she tends to be very spontaneous. I think a lot of the time she'll do things on a whim, even if they're risky, and say whatever comes to her mind. Grace is good at talking her into more safe activities and derailing her when she's feeling righteous and wants to pick a fight with someone twice her size over an insult to one of her friends.

Grace tends to be really unpredictable and impulsive when she's emotional at all and Steph gradually gets better at handling this and calming her down as they're together for longer. Not so much a voice of reason as a source of comfort for her.

Steph is the one online shopping and showing Grace her phone every 5 minutes just for her to go "no, we don't need another one" LOL

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Steph and her fuckass sleep schedule from parties and arguing online vs Grace, who has never stayed up past midnight, wakes up at 6:30 AM on weekends, makes her bed every morning, never snoozes an alarm... I think even when Grace drags Steph to bed "on time" (still an hour later than she'd like) Steph is just not a morning person and loves getting to sleep in and wake up slowly. Grace eventually learns to appreciate being cozy in bed for a little bit longer, but she never really stops waking up earlier than Steph and getting tons of things done before she even stirs.

17. Who fell in love first?

Hehe. Grace fell first, Steph fell harder/faster. Grace had like... this steadily building crush she didn't know was a crush. I think it probably started when they were in a group project together and Steph kept bumping their knees together under the table. She called them friends once and Grace pretty much did the entire project to please her. And even once Steph started ignoring her in class again she remained unusually fixated on her salvation and helping her. Around Abstinence Camp (summer before sophomore year/10th grade) Steph catches on to the fact that Grace genuinely wants to help her and tries to be nicer. They get more hostile again when Steph is outed as bisexual and Grace discovers what gay people are and that she isn't supposed to like them (but she can save them!). At the point where NPMD begins (around the beginning of their senior year) Steph has not had a non-religious interaction with Grace in over a year, and she is extremely sick of it.

(Slow is an everyone lives AU that has Max sleep with Grace before most of the events of NPMD, and the Waylon prank is both revenge and blackmail so she can force him to 'admit' to lying about it, hopefully preserving her reputations + preventing it from getting back to her parents. Everyone else is in on it for the same reasons as canon, and only Steph knows that Grace slept with Max at the point of the prank)

After finding out about Grace and Max, Steph just starts kind of pitying her because she knows how vicious gossip of this nature is and how cruel people are. So she's like okay, this girl really needs a friend, I can do that for now + being friends with Steph Lauter does give you some level of social standing which she figures she can lend to Grace for awhile. And Grace is still sort of annoying at first. But seeing her passionate + happy during the prank, orchestrating everything, awakens some really long-buried feelings about the weird girl in her homeroom who always tried too hard to relate every book to God, and who had come over to her house and described every research note to Steph while she assembled their poster by herself; Steph had SpongeBob reruns playing (which Grace was apparently not allowed to watch, so she sat with her back to the television) and was mostly tuning her out. They got 100% on their poster, and Steph stopped talking to Grace when her friends started to comment on it.

She feels bad for treating Grace that way + she is genuinely letting herself know this person for the first time and finding that she likes her. Like. Genuinely finds her smart and funny and interesting. She's sort of insane under duress, but it's endearing. But Steph does not pursue people, people come to her, so she sort of brushes it into the back of her mind, because there is no world in which Grace Chasity realizes her obvious queerness before she's 30.

Once she knows Grace likes her shes giggling and kicking her feet and extremely extremely excited about everything but she is trying So Hard to be normal and not rush her. She's sort of flattered about being Grace's first girl(friend?) and really really wants to give her a good experience and treat her well (the way she wishes her first partner had treated her). She is very happy and the only thing she really wishes is that Grace would apologize less and trust her a little more.

[handsomethrowrug]

VERSES

Under the read-more is a breakdown of all the verses that take place on this blog. The first section deals with verses in the timeline of his existence, and the section lists the different AUs that may arise.

If the links do not work, every verse is tagged as " v; [name] ", eg " v; i could be king " (excluding quotation marks). There are no special symbols used.

To Summon a Ghost - Main Verse #1. Set after the movie (and post-Lion Guard if that’s applicable). Scar is dead, and can only appear as a fire-based ghost. He can be found either by those who have summoned him through the use of a fire (whether willingly or accidentally), or by those who have a natural connection to the supernatural. He can also be found by those who can access the limbo between life and death. 

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I Could Be King - Main Verse #2. Set at any point before Mufasa’s death. Scar is the younger brother of the King, biding his time to take a position that he believes to be rightfully his. This setting is also the default for crossovers.

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The Rightful King - Set during the latter part of the movie. Scar is the king of a Pride Lands that is dying from a prolonged drought. Though he tries to maintain order and solve the problems facing him, it isn’t enough. The further into the reign the story is set, the more unstable he becomes. However, for most who reside near Pride Rock, he would still act as though he is not breaking apart under the seams.

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I Have a Plan - The Lion Guard verse. Scar is the revenge-driven volcano spirit, convinced that if he can’t have the Pride Lands, no one else can.

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Before the Scar - (Despite the name, Tacari does have the scar from a young age.) This setting covers the days from a bright-eyed cub to a bitter young adult who feels like all opportunities have been taken from him. Where applicable, this will also cover the era that he led the Guard.

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AU SETTINGS

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King of Sunlit Plateau - The Dreamlight Valley verse. Generally set after all his missions are completed. As a king of a small area called ‘the Sunlit Plateau’, Scar lacks the envy that consumed him in another setting, and is considered less ‘dangerous’ than he might otherwise be. He’s trying to behave, but it is difficult trying to adjust to a world that wants him to follow all their rules while refusing to understand who he is. He can’t mess this up, not after being reunited with his precious trinket. This is a good alternate setting for crossovers with other Disney characters.

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The Heartless King - The Kingdom Hearts verse. After all the work Scar undertook to become King of Pride Rock, including making a deal with Pete, he’s not willing to give up the throne so easily. If that means he will persist through death to haunt the kingdom, he’ll do it.

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Survived the Flames - An AU where the hyenas did not kill him. Scar was able to escape to the Outlands in a badly injured state. Time was not kind, and he is not in a position to strike revenge. He is a weak, elderly rogue lion who would not stand a chance in a fight. Instead, he watches from outside the borders of the only place he knew home as it thrives once more without the strangling ivy that was Scar’s mere presence. He is unaware of the existence of Zira and the other exiled lions, and he chooses to reveal his true identity to the next generation. He instead uses the name ‘Taka’, even if the old nickname feels like it doesn’t suit. (This verse does not link in with the Lion Guard by default. However, characters from that series are welcome to interact.)

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The Rogue of the North - An AU where Scar failed to usurp Mufasa long before Simba’s birth. Instead of being killed, he was banished. Years have passed, and there is a rogue lion by the name of Tatu who works alongside the hyenas. Who is he? What does he want? And why does he want his presence to be kept a secret from other Pride Landers?

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A Captured Prince - Before Scar can get his plans into motion, he is captured by humans and sent somewhere far beyond the Pride Lands. With all plans destroyed, and no way home, he has no choice but to reluctantly accept his new situations. At least the humans can understand him. (This will usually default to the adult setting, but can be used for him as a cub)

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A Better Life - (AKA the 'nothing bad happens’ AU) A potential follow-on from the above verse if Tacari was taken from the Pride Lands as a cub, only to be brought back at a later part in his life. Gaining a wider perspective of the world has helped him see that there is more to his sense of self than being king, and he is able to find a new purpose for himself in life while staying in the Pride Lands. He is still the antisocial, dramatic and sassy uncle, but this time around there is no intent to kill.

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Lost Soul on the Isle - The Descendants Verse. Scar is one of the few villains that has opted to remain in his true form. However, he will encourage his cubs to take advantage of human forms to help further their goals. He has no interest in getting personally invested in overthrowing those on Auradon.

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The Corrupt Businesslion - The Zootopia verse. Tacari is a lion highly ranked in the family enterprise run by his older brother Mufasa. He is a grump, but tries to help where he can. But once business has closed for the night, he begins his second ‘job’ as Scar, the puppet master of a gang of hyenas causing trouble around the city. Of course, no one can prove the connection.

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Revived But Not Alive - There may come a day where someone is able to revive Scar into a physical form, and in return gain a useful ally.

[shaebertooth]

I want to go ahead and apologize now to anyone who is still waiting on a commission from me. I know of like two off the top of my head, but please keep in mind I do suffer from memory loss problems so I may need a reminder if you're unsure if I recall you or not.

My life this year had started off in a not-so-great way, and while it's no excuse, it has greatly affected my mental and physical health in ways I'm actually pretty afraid of, given my recent bout with a hospital stay and surgery.

My current home is owned by someone I thought was a friend of mine. He bought the house back in 2019 with the full intention of us moving in together: his sister, Cori, myself, and him of course. This was all great until his sister turned into an absolute nightmare of a roommate, moved out (and ran off to florida with some online friend) and left us high and dry.

So we found another roommate, and things were decent from there.. until towards the end of last year.

Main roommate in question took a trip to chicago to be with some friends, and ended up falling in love with the place, and planned to move there eventually - okay, not so bad, we were all okay with this, we knew it was happening.

Then my surgery happened. Along with being unable to work until January 1st when I was finally cleared, and now trying to scramble to find a job, and throwing out anywhere between 5-10 applications a day. In the meantime it's fallen on my poor girlfriend to pay my portion of the bills, which I am eternally grateful for, but also dreading and ashamed of. I owe her the fucking world.

All of a sudden, my roommate has put his foot down saying he's selling the house by the end of March. April is as long as he's giving us to figure out things out and find a place to go. girlfriend's mom's apartment is way too small, and doesn't allow for the 3 cats we have, and my mom sold her house shortly after we moved into the new house, and lives in a senior apartment complex. Neither places are places we can go to.

When we tried to plead our case, stating to him that my bank needs *60 days* of work history to help me with a house loan.. he simply shrugged his shoulders and walked out. In his exact words on discord, he stated "As the owner of the property this is my decision and it is non-negotiable." AKA he doesn't care what happens to us, he's dead-set on going to chicago, with those rose-tinted glasses glued to his face. This was what he sent to us yesterday. Saturday the 14th.

Needless to say.. my emotional state is a wreck. I'm worried I won't find a job in time, worried we'll have to move way far away from where we've settled, flip everything around to start somewhere else.. and before anyone tries to suggest apartment hunting: we can't. My girlfriend is self-employed making iron-on patches, which involves a LOT of noise running constantly. Embroidery machines and sewing machines all times of the night/day.

We would either need to specifically be placed in a corner lot where we can't disturb anyone, or luck out and have some deaf neighbors. It would also need to accept 3 cats, as these cats are *not* going anywhere else but with us.

I'm so fucking stressed to the point of headaches, and my body thinking it's time for my monthly flow.. all month long. It's scaring me that all of this is happening, and I'm dreading another hospital stay, especially because my surgery site still bleeds from time to time.

So, I apologize if I've been slow with activity or you're waiting on something from me. My life is being quite literally ripped out from under my feet, and there's not much I can really do about it except to pray for a job and grind myself into dust trying to make a living. In this fuckin american economy.

I wish I could get a fucking break.

[umichenginabroad]

Blog Post 2: Settling In (Week 2)

Bonjour! This is Andrew, a rising sophomore here at the UofM. As you’ve probably already guessed, either from the start or because you read my other post (thank you if that’s the case), I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to come to Paris for a one-and-a-half month study abroad experience, and I’m here to tell you all about it. In this post I’ll be talking about the housing and transportation situations in Paris. Also, as a casual will-take-photos-of-anything photographer, I’ll be putting random photos I took that don’t seem to have any relationship with the content in random places in the post, so I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Housing

Sweet. We made it safely to Paris! Now, the fun starts. That being said, the first thing that came to my mind is the worry that I’ll end up living in a dumpster because somehow I messed up my housing application. After making sure that that wasn’t the case, I began looking forward to seeing what was offered in our room. Questions like “would there be a kitchen?” or “would I have to share a bed with my roommate? (Elliot, we’re chill, but maybe not that chill lol)” were the first to pop up, followed by weirder questions like “will we have cockroaches crawling over us in our sleep?” or “what happens if I blow up a socket? (yes I actually almost did)”, as we slowly made our way on an airport cab sent by CEA CAPA to where we would be spending our next month living. 

Random Photo 1: Eiffel Tower

Arriving at my room, I immediately noticed something. “There’s no body wash or shampoo (skull emoji)” But after exploring the room a bit, I noticed that it is actually, surprisingly, equipped with basically everything you’d need to survive if you were to be trapped inside by a zombie apocalypse or something. Some important things that came with the room include the beds, the floor, a toilet, a shower. Ok just joking, duh. The room did come with, along with all the essentials, a fridge with a small freezer, two stoves, a microwave, and plenty of dishes, even wine glasses for those alcohol enthusiasts out there. It definitely wasn’t the most decorated place, but hey. You didn’t come out here to sit in your room watching anime. Good living place, check.

Random Photo 2: Louvre Museum

For my trip specifically, I was assigned to the most basic housing option, with other options such as actual apartments or homestays available for extra charge or accommodation. My apartment was “les Etudines”, and it was about an 8 minute walk away from the nearest metro station, which takes me directly to the stop nearest to the school. There’s also a couple bus stops within 50 meters of the studio, so if a bus goes somewhere you want to go, that’s always an option. And hey, it’s Paris, anywhere is technically walkable. Access to transportation, check.

Random Photo 3: l'Arc de Triomphe

One last thing to mention about housing is probably just what comes with the studio in terms of other facilities. To be brutally honest, there really isn’t anything else, which kinda sucks. There is a “gym” on the first floor, but last time we checked there was like one treadmill and one bike-thingy, and that’s about it. A lot of people chose to pay 18 euros a month to go to this other gym three blocks away, and I think that just about speaks volumes about how bad this one was. There’s also two elevators along with stairs for vertical transportation, but one of them had a bad puke in them for like three days so that was funny. Not representative of the overall condition of the elevators though, they were pretty nice. And then there are the laundry machines. Boy oh boy do these things like money. 4 euros for washing and another 3.5 euros for drying. Holy guacamole. The washer had about half the capacity of those in Michigan dorms, shoutout to those, and you can eat a meal for the money you pay for washing clothes. Yeah my jeans are going on my legs four times before they get washed. But they are there, for those that are concerned about needing to hand wash clothes, which, at this point, is a considerable option for me. Facilities…check? Honestly those aren’t necessities, so I don’t necessarily treat them like a negative to the place, just wanted to mention them so you don’t end up bringing your own dumbbells.

Random Photo 4: Château de Chantilly

Transportation

If you’re anything like me, or maybe 95% of the group of people studying in Paris here with me, you’d be scrambling in search of places to go once those stupid classes (which are the main reason we’re here studying abroad) end. Before talking about that, which I’m probably going to do in another post just because there’s almost too much stuff to go over, I thought it’d be a good idea to talk about how exactly you can get places not on foot. Hopefully walking isn’t something that I need to talk about here. Anyways, for the first week, my friends and I have gone to a lot of places, including La Tour Eiffel, Le Louvre, L’arc de Triomph. and Le Château de Chantilly. Some of these places are closer than others, but most of them are best accessed through metro, bus, or train. These three modes of transportation are going to be what I’ll be talking about just because they’ll take you almost anywhere you need to go.

Random Photo 5: A Random Street

We gotta start things off with the metro system. Obviously this part is specifically for Paris, but I’m sure a lot of it can apply to other places that have metro systems. The metro system in Paris is #amazing. You might pass out the first time you see the metro map, which I’ll link here, but once you get the hang of it, you’ll be zooming across Paris effortlessly. It also helps that almost anywhere you go in Paris, there’s guaranteed to be a metro station at most 10 minutes a walk from where you are. To take the metro, you either have to buy tickets every time (definitely not recommended, especially if you’re going to be studying there for a month and a half), or buy a pass, which can either be weekly or monthly. The passes also vary in price based on what zones you want it to cover. Here I’m just going to steal a whole line from this website because I think it explains it pretty well: There are in total 5 travel zones divided into 16 metro lines (numbered 1 to 14 and 2 lines called 3bis and 7bis), 5 RER- regional train systems (lettered A to E), and tram lines (named T1 to T13). Paris city center covers zone 1 and 2. Disneyland Paris and Charles de Gaulle Airport (CDG) are in zone 5 while Orly Airport and Versailles are in zone 4. (Please don’t report me for plagiarism…) But yeah, that basically covers most of what you should know in terms of how the metro system is operated. One thing to note is that the monthly pass doesn’t start when you start using it, but at the beginning of the month, and weekly passes start every Friday. So don’t go buying a monthly pass on the 30th thinking you’ll be able to use it for 30 days.

Random Photo 6: Man Playing Interesting Instrument

The buses in Paris are also live-savers sometimes. Although I did say that metro stations are almost always right next to you, it’s not always the best plan to walk underground and take the metro for two stops to some other place that is still a 5 minute walk away from where you want to go. The buses in Paris have been, as of now, very reliable and even enjoyable I would say. They are almost always very clean, and there have been bus stops right next to places we commonly go, which makes commuting just so much easier if you’re willing to give it a try. I have had many friends tell me that they have yet to try buses out a week into the program due to the fear of having it take you in the middle of nowhere, and I get where they’re coming from. But I think if the place you’re going has this service and they use THE SAME CARD as the metro, you might as well give it a shot. So for me, buses in Paris are really nice and, as long as you pay attention to where you’re going, I think it’s very likely you’ll be saving some precious time for yourself to do some other random stuff you have planned.

Random Photo 7: A Pretty Building

Next thing I want to talk about are the trains, specifically Eurail/Interrail. I’m literally writing this part of the blog while on a Eurail train, and I’m telling you this thing is very irritating. Eurail or Interrail will be your main method of transportation to faraway places such as Monaco or the UK, and there are so many things that my friends and I got screwed over by. First of all, in order to save some money buying a pass, we had to go on the website and pay what honestly already seems like a ridiculous amount of money (226 Euros for 4 travel days???) for the pass, which, for the 4 day pass, only lasts you a month. Next, we had to book the “actual seats”, which will set you back another 12~36 euros depending on the train. This process was separate from the pass, and required us to pay more money to secure a seat. Also, we couldn’t just be like “oh well I’ll just stand”, you need a ticket. FINALLY, apart from having to print the ticket, we had to download the Eurail Planning App, register/activate your month pass, plan a trip in the app, use a travel day for that day, and obtain a QR code that you are to show to the on-board personnel along with your ticket. Oh also, forgot to mention, you have to do all this before you board, even though you can board with your ticket, which (clears throat aggressively) I believe proves that you went through all the necessary nonsense to legally board. My friend and I only planned our trips on the app after being informed by the personnel (who didn’t speak english), and were charged 50 euros for the “mistake”. The train eventually got us to Nice, which was our destination, but I found the process of proving my eligibility as a passenger so absurdly complicated that I don’t think it was an enjoyable trip at all. 

Random Photo 8: F1 In Monaco!!!!!!!

Apart from Eurail/Interrail, Paris also has train systems called RERs (Réseau Express Régional, or Regional Express Network), which serves to connect Paris and its surrounding suburbs. My friends and I took the RER line D to Le Château de Chantilly, had a blast there, and came back the same way we went there. No hassle, boarding was easy and quick, and as long as you got off at the right place at the right time, you should be good to go and enjoy the rest of your trip. No app required, no extra charge for not registering a trip, nothing. If you couldn’t already tell, I’m going about an unnecessarily rant about something that I should have paid more attention to myself, all while making comparisons between the security measures of international transportation and short-distance train rides. Still, if any of you end up in Europe and want to go from country 1 to country 2 via Eurail, beware. You have been warned. 

Anyways, that about concludes this blog. Thanks to those of you who actually came and read this monstrosity of a post!

Hsien-Cheng Chou (Andrew Chou)

Mechanical Engineering

Engineering in Paris

[flintbian]

Just got out of yet another interview and they threw in a fun question which was "who's your favorite superhero" and I blanked and all I could think of were villains, rip 😭

[plush-rabbit]

The Dateable's Making You Flustered

Request: Flustered scenarios with the dateables

A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay!! I really need to work faster with these (1k each)

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Barbatos:

It’s been such a long time ever since the butler has felt some sort of attraction towards somebody. It surprises even himself and he’s able to see into the future. Yet, when he was given- or rather forced- into a day off, the first place where his mind had wandered had been to you. It was you that he thought of first. He didn’t have a clue on what he wanted to do, but when he was told that he had the day off- no exceptions- his mind had automatically gone to spending time with you. Barbatos wonders what changed that made you so important to him- he wonders when it happened, how it snuck past him and caught him by surprise.

He invited you on his day off, had sent you a quick message asking you’d like to accompany him around Devildom to pick up a few things for himself rather than the usual outing to the market. You had graciously agreed and now he stands beside you, his hand on a book and you peering to see what’s written on it.

“What’s the book about?” You ask, haven given up on trying to figure out what it was that had gotten his attention.

A few demons reach around and pull a book away from the shelf, talking excitedly to one another and he moves to stand closer to you. He smiles at you and holds the book close to him, already deciding to purchase it. “It’s an old tale from Devildom, similar to your Hansel and Gretal but this one is a bit more heavy.” You give out a hum, pleased at his answer and nod your head. “If you’d like, I could lend it to you once I’m done.”

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing at the same book and holding towards you. “I’ll just take one with me,” you offer and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t want to take his. “This way, we can read at the same time and then discuss. If it’s supposed to be similar to Hansel and Gretal, I’m sure that I’ll enjoy it. Plus-” you look up at him, your smile kittenish the book pulled to your chest- “it can be like our secret book club. I’ve been needing an excuse to go to the castle and visit, so this will be perfect,” you say excitedly, see-sawing between the tips of your shoes and back to your soles.

“You don’t need an excuse to visit the castle.” He hooks his arm with yours, slowly pushing you away from where a growing crowd of demons appear. “You know you’re always welcomed. The Young Lord would never dare to shut the door in your face.” He stops near the corner end of the store, his eyes attracted to a few trinkets where he reaches for.

The book is lowered and you shift your stare to where you both once stood. “And you?” His attention is grabbed immediately and he looks at you with a confused stare. You meet his eyes for a moment before you pull away. “Would you mind if I came over?” You clear your throat and look down, your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. “I wouldn’t want to…” you trail off, clearly unable to find the proper words. “I wouldn't want to distract you or make your work any more difficult than it already is.”

He can feel the back of his neck grow hot. He can’t be mistaken by what your words mean. You want to know what he thinks of you, if you’re welcomed in his eyes. His shoulders lower and he smiles at you, his hand reaching out to take your book from your hands. When you look up at him, he has his gaze kept on the title of the book, following the rise and fall of each letters.

“You’re always welcomed.” He takes in a small breath and fixes his gaze back to you. “You could never be a distraction for me. If you wish to have a secret book club with me, then I am more than honored to be your guest.” He clears his throat and looks away from you, his smile slowly growing but wavering as he lets out a shaky breath. “You make work easier. I enjoy my job, but I must say that when you’re around, the only thing I can think of is finishing in order to spend more time with you. Being around you is… nice.” He returns his stare back to you. “I’ve been around for a very long time, but when you’re around me, well, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so young. I’m not sure what it is about you-” he raises a hand and holds your cheek- “but I find myself happy whenever I’m with you. So please, never think that you are a bother towards me. You’re always free to visit- whether it be for our secret book club-” he returns the book to you, smiling when your fingertips brush against his- “or just because, I’ll always make time for you.”

It might be cruel of him, but he can’t help but smile and let out a quiet chuckle when you press your face against the book. “Barbatos,” you say in a hushed whisper. He only hums in response, glad that his words had such an effect on you. You look up at him with a faux pout and furrow of your brows while he stands there with a wide grin. Your eyes turn away from him and you finally let a smile appear. “Thanks for the reassurance,” you mutter.

“Of course. Nothing that I said was a lie, so it was quite easy to let the words out, you know,” he teases, grabbing the book from you before you have another chance to hide yourself. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to see in the store, or do you wish to go somewhere else?”

“I uh-” still flustered, you rub your cheek where his hand once was- “can we check out the manga section?”

He hooks his arm through yours, his body close enough to where he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume. “Lead the way,” he says, following your footsteps through the store. He isn’t sure when his feelings towards you had changed, he doesn’t even recall the giddiness of when it all started, but he doesn’t mind it. It’s a nice change of pace. You’re something unpredictable and reckless, and something soft and fragile, and he welcomes having you so close to him, to where he could lean over and press his lips against the crown of your head and keep you protected under his touch. Barbatos welcomes the change that you brought and while the change wasn’t originally for him, he enjoys that it is for him now, that you’re the one that gets to be close to him and that gets to have the pleasure of having you wanting to visit him.

Simeon:

Who could have ever thought that he, an angel, would fall in love with a human? The very thing that an angel had created a war for, the very thing that caused him to lose those close to him, and the very thing that had shown just how different he was from someone he had considered a brother, he now commits the same unholy act. He must be a hypocrite. He is a hypocrite. The very thing he turned a blind eye to and here he is, so undoubtedly in love with a human that he fears his wings will be ripped from him, his blood staining his clothes and his halo broken beyond repair. Terror makes his blood run cold and yet, he cannot look away from you. Simeon keeps his gaze upon you with a mixture of hesitation and melancholy and you just smile back at him, the phone in your hand shared between the two of you as you watch a parody of a teen romance on an application.

“It’s amazing how much people have grown to like this er, show?” He asks, still unsure of what to call it. “It’s considered a show, right?”

Your shoulders raise in a shrug and you give him a small, tight lipped smile. “I guess. I think most people refer to it as a series.” The phone is lowered and it returns to your lap. “It isn’t wrong to call it a show, but since they’re short little bursts of episodes, I think people find it easier to call it a series, but it can go any way.” You move away from him, scooting until your thigh is at an angle and your knee is pushed against his. “Anyways, to answer your question, yes people do like it. I think since it’s like a parody but also suspenseful with the cliffhangers, it keeps people entertained.” He nods his head slowly, and he tries to ignore the rush of cold that is now at his empty side. “Did you like it?”

His eyes slightly widen, and his lips pull into a thin smile. “I- Well, considering the fact that it’s written and done by one person- I- It certainly is different than the things I usually consume, but-” He struggles to find a way to finish his thought without offending you in any sort of way and ends with a stiff nod of his head.

It’s a tense moment that doesn’t last long enough to linger on when you suddenly laugh. Your laugh is loud as it effectively gets him to snap his mouth shut. Your hands are waved in front of you and your knee leaves his as you curl onto the couch. “You don’t have to force yourself to like it, Simeon, I only wanted to show it to you, because you asked what I was watching.”

He appreciates you giving him an easy out, and he releases a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. It’s a slow release and suddenly he can breathe again. “Well thank you for sharing it with me. I appreciate that from you.” Silence lingers and it isn’t like before where it’s tense, it’s lighter now, but it still feeds him an odd sense of air where he’s stuck between a breath, his eyes stuck on you.

Once more, your laughter fills the room and it’s short and sweet, a gift given to him for just the moment. “Of course, Simeon. I like spending time with you, and I especially like sharing my interests so I guess, thank you for allowing me to do that.” Your hand reaches towards his and he sees the slightest pause from you, the way your fingers twitch until you allow yourself to hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

Warmth returns to him, something akin to a summer’s day in the Celestial Realm, and even though all air has left him once again, he is breathless in a way that matters, weightless and joy illuminating him. When he meets your eyes, he cannot look away and he cannot help but return your smile. The clock ticks onwards and he’s left with a heavy heart. He’s read about the perfect moment, thought about writing something so trivial and false, and yet, the perfect moment sits before him with their hand in his.

“I have to be honest with you,” he murmurs and his eyes feel hot, a lump forms in his throat that makes his words sound tighter. “I- I don’t-” How could he ever phrase what he wants to tell you? How could he drop that sort of confession on you? You know the story, would you ever want him to actually confess to you, to repeat the past mistakes and know the horrid outcome? He frowns. His eyes are stuck on the floor, running along the edge of the carpet and he can feel your gaze on him, your eyes that are heavy with concern and ever the angel, Simeon spares you and gives you the easier answer. “I’m thankful to have met you,” your name is a sweet whisper on his lips, a taste of sweet peach that makes his heart full and heavy. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as wonderful as you. I see you and I think that I’ve found something even more pure than an angel.” With every word, his hand turns to slip into yours, his gloves thin enough to feel the small crevices and calluses on your hand. “Even if you are human and you’ve committed sin, I still think that you are the most pure of them all with your kindness and generosity.”

He isn’t sure what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected to have you plant your face against the soft back cushion of the couch, your face held there for moments. Your hand slips away from his and he’s left holding empty air. His hands fret over your body and when you pull away, your face is flushed, your hands covering the lower part of your face as you look at anywhere but him.

“Simeon,” you whine, closing your eyes tightly. “That’s really sweet.” Your voice is high-pitched and your eyes open once more, as your hands finally lower. “I think I might actually die, that was really nice and something that I don’t hear often.” You finally look at him and your smile is ever growing. “Especially from an angel,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle.

His smile is soft and to him, it dulls compared to your brilliance. As if you were a puzzle, he fits into your hand with ease and grace. “Well if you were to die, I would return you in any way that I could.

Solomon:

He’s human, ageless and immortal, but human. He’s lived and loved, lost and grieved, and he’s gone numb and distant to emotions. He didn’t mind it, he welcomed it. He hated losing and hated the people that he lost and the empty space that they left. He promised that he wouldn’t ever want to feel that sense of sadness ever again. Then you came into the picture. He’s been called shady and worse words than that, but you don’t call him that. You hold his hand and you welcome him into your arms. You go on and on about the human in him and how you love that he’s there with you. Solomon isn’t sure when it was that he broke his own promise, but when he looks at you, he’s willing to love again and again.

The kitchen is a mess and powder covers the counters. His hands knead the dough and the smell of garlic and onion sizzled with oil is heaven in the air. You measure the ingredients and whisk at the eggs. It’s domestic and it’s something that leaves a storm of butterflies in his stomach. He could watch you forever, in the kitchen, with an apron tied around your waist, flour in your hands and the tip of your tongue peaking past your lips as you concentrate on rereading the cookbook. It’s domestic and it’s something he had long forgotten that he wanted.

“I have the ingredients memorized, I could simply tell you what to add,” he muses, returning to forming the bread into its shape.

“Knowing you, you’ll add something in there,” you quip, your smile now directed at him, with your tongue still pinched out. “Plus, it’s just reading. I can read,” you say with a defensive tone. “Just start dressing the bread with garlic and then we can get on with breading the chicken.” You jerk your head to where the chicken rests on the cutting board, the flour beside it.

“Okay,” he sings under his breath, returning his attention to the dough before him. The room is filled with a song from the Human Realm, a classic that has him feeling warmth in a kitchen that is not his, but with a person that is. It makes him long for another time, but when he catches you in the corner of his eye, he’s glad where he is. “I like your song choice,” he says, instantly biting the inside of his cheek once the words had left his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s ever tried to have an actual connection with someone, and he’s sure he wasn’t ever this awful at it.

“Yeah?” You step close to him, holding your hand out. “Care for a dance then?” Your smile is crooked and eyes gleaming with excitement as the song is replayed with a touch of your hand.

He’s frozen for a second, stuck in time, and rooted into place, his hand moving through thick amber as he lets his hand rest in your palm. The room is spun, colors mixing with each other and slowly blurring until he stands still, pushing you away and pulling you close, laughing and letting his hand rest against your side, his hand feeling the soft curve against your ribs. Your hands are powdered and his smell like bread, and your laugh is young and youthful. He can’t help but follow, letting his smile break out and hand slipping out of yours, to encase you in a hug where he traps you into a swaying motion.

The song fades and he’s forced to pull away, to step away from you and there’s hesitation is his steps and movements. His hands linger for a second too long, his eyes still stuck on you and his smile much softer than it was before. It’s a few seconds of silence where you take in deep, heavy breaths, and sway lightly to the song that approaches.

Your name is said and it’s sweet like honeysuckle and addicting like a drug. It’s a night where he invited you over, and now you two are busy making dinner in the kitchen and you’ve given him instructions and kept a close eye on what he does. Your perk your head and nod, allowing for him to continue. “Thank you for coming over,” he says with a tight smile on his lips.

“Anytime, Sol,” you respond, coming beside him once more. You bump your arm into his, leaning to look at the garlic mixture in a bowl. “You know I like spending time with you, so anytime you need a cooking partner, you can always call.”

He doesn’t say anything, only nodding and trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay while his heart beats frantically against his chest. You move away from him, returning to where the powder rests in a bowl and he’s left without, and while the distance is short, it’s something that is unwelcomed. He’s left with dough in his hands and you’re away from him, and loneliness settles.

“Can I call you whenever?” He asks, an easy smile on his lips, but there’s a plea in his words. He’s never been the needy type, but he needs you.

“Of course, you can,” you respond and you’re as kind as ever. You turn away and close the bag of flour, pushing it aside to clear the space at the table.

Like a drug that leaves his mouth dry and heart racing, feeling as if he’s about to die, he calls your name. You’re so close to him and yet, you aren’t close enough. He needs you. He needs you beside him. And he takes the first step, standing in front of you with a red kissed face as stares at the cabinets against the wall. You call his name and your hand is tender against his neck, leaving a white stain that snows onto his shirt.

“I just wanted to thank you. I know how busy you can get and I just-” he can feel the telltale sign of tears and he wonders when he’s gotten so emotional- “I like spending time with you. I like your music choices and I like it when you cook with me- even if it’s just you giving me instructions- but I like it.” His tongue touches against his lips and he looks at you, fiddling with the end of his shirt. “I think you’re great and I just need you to know that if you ever need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help. I would do whatever it would take to make you happy because you have a really nice smile and I don’t think you should lose that.” His heart echoes and his smile is gentle and nervous. “Thank you for being with me.”

You stare at him and he wonders if he had overstepped only to gasp when you bury yourself against his chest, patting at his shoulder and pulling away with a hand covering the lower half of your face. “Solomon,” his name leaving your lips sends a jolt of electricity through him, “I’m glad. Thank you,” you whisper. Your hand reaches to pull his away from his shirt and you hold it in yours. “I like being with you too. Us humans have to stick together, right?” You say softly, letting your fingers run over his scarred knuckles.

He nods silently and leans over, his lips pressed against your forehead. “Yeah, us humans have to stick together,” he whispers against you, smiling when he feels your own lips against his knuckles. He’s with you, at this very moment, he stands in a kitchen with music playing, holding you close to him, and for a moment, he can pretend that this won’t ever end, that he won’t ever have to move away from you and risk losing you.

[faghubby]

"Go ahead baby, I know you need this" Linda laid next to me fully clothed. As I was naked jerking off.

"Your doing great, I feels good doesn't it" Linda told me.

"Are you going to cum, all over your tummy?" She asked

Lighty touching my chest. I spurted all over my stomach

"There all better" Linda told me.

"Go get cleaned up Tim" Linda continued. Linds got out of bed and went back to her home office. She had a big meeting in the morning.

I got up and showered. I crawled into the bed still naked. I read alittle and drifted off to sleep. I woke a few hours later as Linda came to bed. She wore a satin nightie. I became aroused again.

"If this is a problem for you I can find you somewhere else to sleep." Linda teased. But turned her back to me and pulled her panties down. I spooned her my hard dick rubbing against her soft ass. I dry humped her. Rubbing my didk against her soft cheeks.

"Don't cum on me" She tells me. As I get close I pull back and again cum all over my stomach. I kiss her ass and pull her panties back into place. I get up and clean up. Linda is asleep when I return.

In the morning I role over and see Linda wearing a tiny black thong with a matching bra pushing her perfect breast out. She rolled stockings up her legs.

"Are you going to get up" Linda said without even turning around.

"You look amazing" I told her.

"Thank you" She winked at me.

"I will be home late" She informed me slipping on a simple flower print dress and slipped on her shoes. A kiss to my cheek she grabbed her bag and was off.

Linda had cut me off from sex since she had started sleeping with Malcolm, her boss. It had been two months. Linda had confessed the first night. I forgave her but it also excited me. She realized it that very night. That was the last time we had sex. She felt like a slut sleeping with two men, so she had me choose which it would be Malcolm or me. I choose Malcolm after she told me how he had made her cum with his big cock. I hoped one day she would allow me to have ses with her again. I got up and showered. I had been unemployed for the past six months. So other then filling out applications online. I had taken to keeping the house clean. This left me alot of free time during the day. I often found myself watching porn. Often cuckold themed these days. I fantasied about eating a creampie but could not bring myself to even ask Linda. Today I clicked on a link to an instructional site. How to make a cuckold articles. Submission ideas. I spent hours reading. I wonder if Linda would like me to be more submissive. Wear her panties, become her sissy. I sent Linda the link.

/this is how you spend your day/ she texted back

/sorry didn't mean to bother you/ I replied

/ we will talk about this later/ Linda texted

Had I offended her? What if she thought me crazy? I spent the rest of the day cleaning, I wanted her not have any other reason not to be cross.

It was after ten when Linda came home. She headed for the shower.

"Anything to ask before I shower." She teased. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. She stripped and showered. Linda came to bed in flannel pj's. I was just wearing shorts.

"Is this more to your liking?" Linda asked. "Not being allowed to see my body? While you are naked in front of me?" She lifted the covers to see my shorts. I took them off.

"Whatelse?" She asked

"Eat Malcolm's seed from me?" She asked

"Maybe if I made you wear panties" She continued

"Lock up your little pee pee" She teased.

"Show me you want this" She said. She handed me a pair of pink bikini panties. I got up and put them on. I was rock hard. But the panties held my little dick. I crawled back into bed with her.

Linda rubbed my butt.

"Maybe even take your virgin ass" Linda teased.

"Tell me you want me to make you my little cuckold sissy" She told me.

"If you want me too" I answered

"No more masterbating unless I tell you too" She informed me. We held each other and fell asleep.

Linda gave me another pair of panties in the morning.

"I don't know what to do yet, but I want you in panties all the time though." She informed me.

I got up and went to shower.

"Maybe trim that hair" Linda pointed to the hair sticking out around the panties.

She stepped close behind me. She held out her phone. Showing me a pic of Malcolm's big cock. Her hand wrapped around it. Mine fit in her hand his would not fit in both her hands.

"This is why you belong in panties" She told me. She smacked my butt and I went to shower. I grabbed her tiny scissors and trimmed my pubic hair. Then thought why not shave it. So I did. Linda had left already. I shaved my self smooth, but I looked ridiculous with the hair on my belly and my thighs. So I shaved it off as well. Then went and put on the panties. These where different giving me a wedgie as they rode up my cheeks. I took a selfie to send to Linda and still thought I was too hairy. So I waited for the water to get hot again. Then took a bath. And shaved the rest of my legs and chest. Even my pits. I was smooth from shoulders to toes. When I finished. Only then did I send Linda a selfie.

/ so cute/ was her only response

I felt very submissive and feminine the rest tof the day. Even picky flowers from the yard for the house. I planned on a special dinner for Linda. I got a message at lunch.

/I found this, (a pic of a pink plastic chastity tube) is it small enough?/

I read the description,

/yes/ was my only reply

After dinner that night she laid me on the bed. "Rub yourself thru your panties." Linds told me. I did as she said

"Want me to help?" She asked.

"Yes" I begged. She grabbed some lube and squirted it on her fingers.

"Role on your side" She laughed. I did knowing what was coming. My panties pulled down in the back her cold lubed fingers rubbed my hole. She worked a finger in

"This what you want?" She giggled and pushed in a second finger

I moaned as her fingers massaged my prostate. I stopped rubbing myself as I focused what Linda was doing.

"A box is coming tomarrow. You are not to open it" She didn't make me cum instead leaving me wanting. I spent the rest of the night in just my panties. Ironing Linda's work clothes. Again I slept in only panties. In the morning I woke to Linda appling lube to my ass. She rubbed her vibrator against my ass. The tip slid in. And I moaned

"That's right you like your ass fucked" Linds told me. She pushed another inch in. I was moaning as she worked it in and out.

"My little faggot husband" She laughed. She had worked all six inches in then removed it.

"I have to get to work." She informed me. Linda was gone when I got out of the shower. I found a purple thong waiting for me. I also found sticky notes all over the house. With tasks on them. Chores I was to complete.

Linda called several times wanting updates. Encouraging me to send her pics of me first in just panties, then getting me to put on a bra. Then pantyhose. Then at the end of the day

"HI, sweety, I am going to see Malcolm this evening. Why don't you pic out one of my dresses. And wait for me."

"I was hoping" I whimpered

"Don't be sad little one, I will be home early" She told me. She sent me pics of Malcolm and her together mostly nudes. I did put on one of her dresses, I had never worn woman's clothes before. I picked a pink dress from the back of her closet.

Linda was home before 8. She came in and burst out laughing at me all dressed up in pink with lace and ruffles.

She opened the box that had been delivered. She pulled out a strapon cock. And adjusted the straps. It was 8 inch long toy jutting from her groin.

"Suck my cock, like I sucked Malcolm's" Linda told me. As I tried Linda gave me pointers on how.

After a few minutes she had me bend over the table and fucked my ass for the second time today.

"I am in more need of a wife then a husband. So you will become my wife. With all the duties that requires." Linda told me.

"You will clean up everything" She informed me. My ass was sore when she pulled her cock from me. She pulled off the toy and her clothes. She lowered her shaved pussy to my open mouth I tasted the now dry cum around her hole. I stuck my tounge in and cleaned her with my tounge and lips. When I finished she stood and pulled out a small satin bag inside it was the chastity tube

"I got the smaller one" She smiled and started fiddling with it. Before appling a small lock.

"Your my wife now I expect you to start acting like one."

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. ���I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[1994sunflower]

what if Michael accidentally hurts y/n. Like maybe she’s coming home from her classes and she sees him beating someone up and she tries to stop him and he hurts her on accident. Sorry I just really love your writing especially angst ;)

thank you so much! i love angst too hehe...I dont know how angsty this is but i put a little bit of fluff at the end lol

also, i’m so sorry for being so inactive guys i really am working on stuff i promise :(( but i’m also making like 20 essays for school applications so it’s going slowly. hope you like this!

in which michael accidentally hurts you

You’re never sure how they start. You couldn’t picture something making you so angry that you’d resort to fists. Even your boyfriend, as apathetic as he is with most people, you didn’t know his violent side intimately. It was just never the way Michael was with you. It almost felt like a stranger when you saw evidence of it acting against others, hurting others. 

You never minded much, just tried to stop him and chastised him a bit while you patched him up. Because at the end of the day you knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Even appreciated his ability to defend himself and you. But still the mystery was always preserved. How the man that held you close, looked at you with nothing but love could be the cause of so many broken bones and bloodshed. Was it his temper that you had never seen or was it his not caring of anyone or even himself, the harm it could bring to him if he wasn’t careful.

Either way you hated it. Hated it each time you heard of it, his (comparatively much more violent) past of it and even more when you caught him at it yourself. It was never on purpose. Because if Michael had known you were anywhere near the vicinity he would stop, or leave to finish his business without you being there to witness that side of him. 

You were docile, so much different than him. Michael knew that as well as anyone else. He knew he didn’t deserve you. So, he tried to hard to avoid adding to the list of why. He could imagine in his worst nightmares you seeing that dark side of him, the one that was so much better than before thanks to you, and be terrified. Realize what kind of man you had chosen and finally see that you needed someone better. Someone who wasn’t so aggressive, so violent, so scary. He didn’t want you to look at him with those eyes. Scared, like you never really knew him. Because the truth was you knew him better than anyone else.

Usually you’d catch him when you were walking back from class. Something he should be doing as well. Instead, he’d be somewhere where he imagined you’d never cross paths, far from your last class. Too bad you liked to walk around campus and take shortcuts more than you should. 

It was usually the same thing. He’d have the upper hand. With his height and strength, it was easy. But that’d leave a victim, someone who couldn’t properly defend themselves against the wrath brought on by whatever they had done to Michael. Sometimes as little as bumping into him. You, with all your goodness and empathy, always stopped your boyfriend because you knew only you could. And if you could help someone, you’d always take the opportunity. 

This time was a little different. Maybe Michael had gotten his days crossed, maybe he forgot you had lab that day and you’d have to pass by that way. But in the walk from your building back to off campus, in the little alleyway of one of the last buildings separating campus from the main street, you heard it. The building was tall and its brick walls looked more like formidable walls, so you had to keep walking until you were right at the entryway of the surprisingly big alley to see. 

But your boyfriend was unmistakable. And so was the way he was punching down another boy. The boy was younger than him, it was obvious, maybe even a freshman. Which somehow made it worse. But they were almost equally matched in height and the boy, either from adrenaline or reflex, wasn’t just holding his hands up in defense. He landed more than a few punches back at your boyfriend. Hitting him in his jaw and face, you already saw some scrapes on his temple and cheek. 

Your face contorted into panic at the sight of Michael getting hurt. Maybe even more fear-stricken at that fact than you would have been just seeing another person getting hurt by his hand. It wasn’t fair to care more about him than the other boy, especially when you were sure Michael was the aggressor. But you didn’t care. You loved him too much to see him get hurt. It was the reason you hated him fighting so much, you dreaded to see the consequences it could end up having on him. You’d told him so many times to stop fighting in the past but he wouldn’t listen. He was getting better but never stopping. Being as good for his girlfriend as possible so you’d be proud of him.

There wasn’t much need to worry, though. A few punches landed on him but he still was dominating the fight by far. Especially when he was more pissed off at the younger boy fighting back. But it didn’t matter. If it went on the way it currently was going, both of them would be more seriously injured than maybe they even realized.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t call out to him. Maybe it was the urgency of the situation that had you mute and just running to your boyfriend as quickly as you could. You always stopped him, but that was always when he realized it was you by the sound of your voice. It never occurred to you that he wouldn’t recognize your touch when he was so blinded by rage. You didn’t realize until you were too close, had already touched his arm desperately, hoping to stop any more attacks from raining down on the other boy. You didn’t even get a chance to call out to him, let him listen to your familiar voice that always seemed to soothe him.

By then, he had already pushed you away. He did it without even looking at you, his anger still directed at the boy and no one would stop him — at least when he thought you wouldn’t be there. 

“Get the fuck off me.” His words were in a tone you’d never heard directed at you, only at other people. And his hand hit your shoulder and sent you flying back, landing with a loud thud on the concrete. 

You weren’t sure if the feeling of your body left lingering on his fingers was what made him recognize who he had just pushed. Or maybe it was the recognition of your voice in the pained yell you had let out as you fell down. But he froze. So completely paralyzed, his body rigid. He was begging that as he turned around, slowly almost mechanically, he wouldn’t see you on the ground. That you wouldn’t be the person he had just physically hurt in his anger. 

It was fruitless. As he kept his grip on his opponents shirt, but stopped yelling, stopped assaulting; just looking behind him, dreading what he would see. It was you. You sitting up, your knees and arms scraped from the fall, some blood and red, raw skin on the injuries. Your pretty dress was crumpled and dirty, bits of concrete, dirt and filth marred your spotless person. His pure, fragile girl.

But it was your face that had him letting go of the boy, arms hanging limply at his side, anger forgotten and eyes wide in horror at what he had just done to his girlfriend who he loved so much. You were looking up at him, tears in your eyes from the pain. They flowed down your cheeks and while you were silent, your eyes screamed at him what hurt more than any of the punches he had just taken. It’s your fault.

He hadn’t pushed that hard. But to your smaller body, even a light hit from him would be painful and powerful. Especially with his added strength.

“Y/N…” The boy was long forgotten. Even when he took the opportunity to run away. Michael forgot the reason for the fight in the first place. Nothing, really, entered his mind as important except you. All his thoughts had zeroed in on the scene in front of him, what he had just done to you. You were the best thing to ever happen to him. He cared about you so much. He loved you more than anyone else, even himself. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do. He’d hurt himself before he let anything touch you. All he ever wanted was to protect you. But yet, he was the one that ended up doing just that.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t-” Know it was you. 

He fucked up. He’d never felt more ashamed at having lost control. If he hadn’t, he’d have stopped and seen it was you. He would have listened when your little hand took hold of his arm. Recognized the feeling of your skin on his like he could so easily do when he was in the right frame of mind. He wouldn’t have hurt you. You wouldn’t be on the ground, dirty and injured because of him. 

But as he stepped towards you, already bending down to help you up, check on you, it got worse. It was worse before you pushed yourself back with the heels of your feet, putting more distance between him and you, making sure he couldn’t get near you. “Don’t touch me.” 

Hurt flashed on his face at your words. At you rejecting to even be near him. The one person that had always stuck by him through everything and forgave him even with how often he fucked up. The one that gave him an unconditional love he wasn’t used to. Part of him new he deserved it, for hurting you even if it was an accident. But the ache he felt when he couldn’t even help you, ask for your forgiveness because you didn’t want to hear it right then, was strong. 

Your voice wavered and broke but your eyes showed very clearly how much you meant those words. He wasn’t sure what was worst to see in them, the anger or the fear. 

Why were you even there? He was sure you had class on the opposite side of campus. It was why he never imagined you were the one trying to stop him. He pictured you walking peacefully from your class back home to wait for him to get back to you. Not what actually ended up happening. He would have never fought in a place you could so easily have seen, so easily have gotten hurt. Especially when he wanted to make you see how much better he was being for you, even if not by much. If you had called out to him, he hadn’t even heard you.

Michael felt a pit at his stomach. Could already hear you breaking up with him, because a girl like you didn’t deserve to be on the ground, looking so pretty and innocent and have that ruined because her boyfriend couldn’t just listen to her and try to be less violent with others. Dread filled him at the different possibilities of losing you this could bring him. None of them did he want. But still, watching you wince as you emotionally collected yourself, he had to curse himself. He wouldn’t blame you. It’s his fault.

Even at your words, he still moved forward, getting down on his knees to be on your level. When you lifted up your palms from the ground, they were tinged pink from the fall and bits and pieces of the concrete were stuck to the palms of your hands. His jaw locked at the sight, regret filling his mind.

Taking your small hands in his, slowly, he sucked in a relieved breath when you didn’t push him away like he thought you would. Instead, he wouldn’t meet your big eyes as he felt them looking at him, he couldn’t. It was so shameful to see that pure wide eyed look of yours and know he had hurt someone that wholesome and kind. 

His gaze stayed on your hands as you held them out palm up. One of his hands cupped the back of your two hands while the other he used to gently pick off the grovel. Not too fast lest they be sharp and hurt you. It was almost comical really, to see his hands, still bloody at the knuckles from the fight, being so tender only a few minutes later. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked you when he was done. When you winced as you curled your fingers in was the answer. 

You wouldn’t even look at him. Let alone acknowledge the apology begging to leave his lips. And he had to resist the urge to take you into his arms so he wouldn’t feel the coldness you were currently giving him. Tears were still running down your cheek by the time your backpack that had fallen beside you was taken up by Michael. He slung it across his shoulder easily, no matter how heavy you had found it. Then his arm was around your waist and his hand on your arm, pulling you up finally from the ground that should be kissed at your feet instead of you laying in it. 

Clearly, he wasn’t taking your command to not touch you seriously. But you didn’t make any move to enforce it - despite how angry you felt, how struck at what he had done to you, no matter that he had done it unconsciously. He needed it, to feel as if he hadn’t completely destroyed everything in the relationship he cherished so much. That the only girl he loved and respected didn’t feel terrified of him and distrust him.

He’d brought a lot of emotions out of you, particularly pleasure, but pain was never meant to be one of them.

That much was obvious in the almost shameful look on his face all the way back to your house - the place you’d forced him to take you to instead of his own home. You would’ve preferred to go home by yourself, your anger and freight not being appropriate to be next to him, let alone have him nearly piggyback carrying you all the way. But he wouldn’t leave your side. 

It was also seen in his small voice, as shaky and almost insecure as you’d ever heard it when you forced him to put you down as you finally got home. The security of your home giving you what your had been lacking the second Michael sent you to the ground, the safety you usually got from him was weak.

“I can help...” 

“No, I got it.” Your words were cold, so different from your usually light and happy voice, as you walked away from him and to your bathroom where you kept the first aid kit. It was usually there for him whenever he got in a fight and got hurt. But now, you needed it.

He flinched at your tone. Despite whatever fights he ever got in, you were the only one who could ever truly hurt him. 

Michael stayed in the living room silently while you disinfected your wounds and covered them up. He hurt you. You could still feel the pain of it, see it physically manifested. You were still crying, sniffling as quietly as you could. It didn’t hurt so much as it did scare you. Not that you were scared of him. Despite what happened, you knew it was an accident and you knew he would never hurt you purposely like that ever. 

But the fact it happened, the fact he had been so lost in his anger that he didn’t stop and think about what he was doing and his surroundings. The fact that you had felt his strength in such an ugly, dangerous way. The suddenness of it scared you. 

And you hated feeling that towards your boyfriend. You only wanted to feel happy and loved with him, nothing as negative as this. It was also frustrating, knowing you had warned him of consequences of his actions like this, though never expected you’d ever be on the receiving end of it, but he still hasn’t changed. But this was the last time you’d ever allow yourself to be in this position.

It made you almost think that your friends, the rumors, maybe they were more right about Michael and his anger than you were whenever you tried to defend him. You wanted your boyfriend to be safe. You didn’t want to believe they were right. Otherwise, you didn’t really know the man you claimed to love.

You were mad and frightened. But it came from a place of love. You didn’t want him to get hurt and you especially didn’t want it to get to this point where he couldn’t even stop himself before it got out of his control until it was too late. You loved him.

When you finished fixing yourself up as best as you could, you left the bathroom and moved quietly into your living room where Michael was sitting silently. His face was in his hands. His very posture screamed regret and you didn’t even want to imagine how dark and self-deprecating his thoughts were as he blamed himself for hurting you, you knew it was hard for him.

He’d told you so many times it was the last thing he wanted. You weren’t sure he could forgive himself. Especially when he knew his strength compared to yours, when he saw your injuries caused by his hand. 

You weren’t sure he even felt your presence when you slowly sat down next to him on the couch, the kit still in your hands. “Here, let me cover that up.”

He had bruises all over his face, particularly his jaw but he had an especially nasty cut on his forehead. 

But when you raised your hands to start working on it, Michael finally looked at you, only to move his head back and shake his head. You were too good for this world, to still worry about him after everything. 

“Don’t waste it on me.”

With you red rimmed eyes, your voice was still more serious than usual but your words were almost normal, “Don’t be silly. You’re hurt.”

Michael kept silent as you focused on his injury. But you could tell his mind was moving quickly, probably figuring out what to say to you.

You wanted him to feel bad, it wasn’t okay and he needed to feel it in order to change. But you didn’t want him to drive himself crazy with kicking himself in the back for what he accidentally did. He stopped as soon as it happened, it gave you hope of how he could change. How this could be a wake up call.

It was only when you were almost done that he spoke. “I didn’t know you were the one grabbing me. I swear I would never have hurt you, it was too late when I realized you-” his head hung in shame, “You were already on the ground when I figured out it was you.”

He was silent for a while and you thought it was him re-living the moment you had been flung so strongly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I would never hurt you like that. Ever. I promise. You’re the only good thing I have in my life. I can’t lose you and it shouldn’t have happened, I should have realized I was just so pissed off. And I thought you were in class. I never thought you’d be there. But it will never happen again.” 

“Michael…” You sighed, you’d heard that before. 

But he cut you off. “No, I’m serious. It won’t. I….I hated seeing you hurt like that. Especially because it was my fault. I know I’m violent but you’ll never experience that again. You’ll never see that again. I’ll never hurt you again so…please…I’m sorry.”

He was so rarely vulnerable with his words, let alone speaking so much. It was obvious he meant it. You took in his apology and his words. You didn’t say it was okay but you didn’t move away or reject his apology either. 

“You won’t lose me.” When his guilty eyes bore into yours, you took his bruised hand. “I know you didn’t meant to, Mikey, you’re not that type of guy and you’ve never been violent towards me. But I get so worried seeing you fight and get hurt, you didn’t even realize it was me because you were so mad. It’s seeing you in a light that I don’t like.”

His words were soft-spoken and gentle, his rough hands encasing your smaller ones almost as if they were glass, like the most precious thing he had. “I know. I’m working on it.” Both of you knew he was. If just to keep you happy. His fights are fewer and farther between but when they do happen, they’re never any less bloody. 

Michael’s eyes trailed down to your arm and your dress, marred with stripes of gravel and dirt. Your scraped knees. Your eyes puffy from crying. Even hurt you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He almost wanted to pull away, he had no right to be touching you, to still be the object of your love. Not when someone as sweet, innocent and peaceful as you was with someone as wrong as him. You deserved someone that brought only smiles out of you. Fuck. He cherished you. And he was disgusted at what he did; would always be, the memory would haunt him for a long time. 

He almost looked in pain as he forced himself to keep looking at what he had done to you. “Does it still hurt?”

You almost didn’t want to answer, for his sake but still you nodded. “I have to change clothes, too.”

“You look so pretty.” It made it worse, how much you more you deserved. “You deserve better.”

Your eyes were confident with your next words, “You’re going to give me that.” He had to. Otherwise, you didn’t think anything you imagined your future would be was going to stay the same. 

And he would. For you.

It didn’t mean he would be perfect or that his tendencies would change. You’d always catch him in fights or in some kind of trouble. But he would be in his right mind, he’d stop before he went too far. And most importantly, he’d never hurt you like he did today. It wouldn’t be hard. When you changed his life so much, he wasn’t in that state of mind he was when he was so angry and violent before he met you. 

Michael started that new resolution to change by peppering you with kisses, grateful he still could, not stopping until you began giggling and pawing at him to stop. You were still kind of mad and hesitant after all, but it was hard to fight back against his sweeter side giving you more of an apology. He was careful to ghost his fingertips over your injuries so as not to hurt you as he took you in his arms like his life depended on you being with him. 

“I love you.” His gravelly voice murmured, “So much.” You were everything to him. What he cherished the most in his life, who he would always need at his side. The last person he wanted to hurt. He was so lucky you were such a good, forgiving person that believed in him. Trusted him. Loved him.

“I know. I love you too.”

You and your love were the what that brought his happiness and goodness into his life. Without you, he would be so much worse than he seemed to be right then. You were the reason he could imagine a normal future for himself, one with a family and a home. The reason he was so much happier recently, why he hadn’t been in a fight in months before this last one. 

He’d never hurt you again. You’d only ever feel good feelings arisen by him, like it always should have been.

Your voice was almost shy but your words were very much willing to take advantage of his guilty mind. “Can we have a spa night? I think it might help my wounds.”

Michael, your big, mature, manly, would-never-have-a-spa-night boyfriend looked at you, knowing very well the healing properties a spa routine could have on your injuries was bullshit. But still he nodded. He’d do anything for you. 

Anything to make it up to you. To take away that hesitancy and sadness in your eyes, to try as he might to erase his huge mistake and replace that scary image of him and know that he was nothing like that with you. Anything to have the rest of the day bring you nothing but peace and happy memories with him, what you had always felt in your life that changed when you met your explosive boyfriend. Having you in his arms for the rest of the night, forgetting the cuts on both of your persons for the night. 

“With face masks?”

“…Fine”

You smiled sheepishly, “….And can we watch Legally Blonde?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

[comfortwriting]

A Summer Secret Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Part 1 of my mini-series 'A Summer Secret' want to be tagged? Let me know!

Part 2

Requested/About: After bursting a water pipe and flooding his house, Fred needs a place to stay - whilst the family is on a vacation he temporarily stays at  George's house. Y/N tries to get out of an arranged marriage her parents have planned with the Malfoy Family. Failing to do so, she flees to George's house - the father of her best friends who promised she could stay there to escape. Fred and Y/N meet unexpectedly, and something sparks between them - something that Fred vows to be nothing more than a summer fling, a summer secret... but is it?

Warnings: Age gap relationship (y/n is 18), swearing, mention of arranged marriage, mention of food and eating.

Staring out of the train window, bidding farewell to the mountains, the river, and to Hogwarts, you felt tears prick at your eyes. You weren't ready to go home for summer, you never did - you were always at the Twin's house, living under George and Angelina's roof to escape the arguments your parents caused when you said no to them controlling every aspect of your life.

Unfortunately, Gideon and Fabian were going away for the summer with their parents to visit Charlie and you were unable to join them, you understood and was fine with it, but you were absolutely terrified to step foot into your home, with your parents trying to force you into a marriage you didn't want.

"Cheer up, Y/N." Fabian frowned "I hate seeing you upset."

You broke your stare from the scenery and looked over at your best friends, taking some puking pastilles from their bags.

"Just in case" you muttered, "If they're sick they'll leave me alone."

Fabian smirked and shook his head, tutting "Did they say anything else in the letter?"

You shook your head back "No, they just told me I didn't have a choice.  I've graduated, I'm eighteen yet I can't decide what I want for myself."

"I can't imagine getting married at this age to someone I've probably never met."

You stared at Fabian, a little sore and taken aback by his sudden burn.

"Thanks, Fabian, I can't either." You squirmed in your seat and pulled out some jelly snakes from the bag of sweets you were sharing, biting and pulling at the tail, stretching the snake, bursts of green apple and lime flooded your mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he apologised starting to panic.

You shrugged it off and tried to stay calm, throwing him a jelly snake"It's okay."

Gideon rummaged through his large bag and pulled out a large bronze key, handing it to you. "If things get really bad, stay at our house anyway."

You smiled slightly and took the key from him, examining it before stuffing it in your pocket "Thanks, lads."

Fabian nodded his head, flicking through job applications he had filled out before sighing and plonking them back in his bag. "Thank Merlin we've got dads shop"

"Tell me about it" Gideon replied "Uncle Fred will be chuffed when we roll up begging for a job."

The two of them laughed, waiting for you to join in, but you were too busy staring out of the window getting lost in what could unfold in a few hours time.

Dear Y/N,

We are so proud of you for working so hard, we are very eager to find out your N.E.W.T results in the next few months to come.

Your mother and I have been looking for jobs you can apply to once you're home, if you've got the grades, working for The Ministry seems rather promising. Your friend's uncle worked as an Auror for a little while, the one who now picks up spare shifts at that joke shop every now and then.

Anyway, we have got some news we need to share it with, unfortunately, we are unable to tell you in person as the wait is too long, but I don't doubt our owl is rather fast at delivering letters; a lot faster than yours it seems.

We have decided that you will be getting an arranged marriage, your status needs to be high if you want to go for and do well in life, you will marry into a very successful family, one that will open doors for you which your N.E.W.Ts cannot.

If you have anything going on with anyone right now, you need to end it before you arrive home. This matter is not up for discussion, neither is the family we have chosen for you.

Arrive home on time, well dressed, and we will go through the meeting. Don't you dare show us up in front of them, you will regret it.

Please write back, I'm not sending another owl to check on you and you are old enough to realise that Howlers are for kids.

Grow up and act like an adult.

See you soon.

Safe Travels,

-  Y/D/N

Grumbling down the path to your house, your stomach started to do flips as you inched closer and closer to the front door. Seeing yourself in the reflection of the glass diamond shape in the middle of the door, you quickly fixed your hair that got ruffled in the wind, unrolling your skirt and straightening out the creases in your blouse.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and pushed the front door open, carrying your trunk inside, your owl flying inside eagerly for scraps of food. Your heart thumped in your chest and you could hear each thump in your ears.

"Mum!" you called out "Dad!"

"We're in the living room, Y/N," Y/D/N replied.

Setting down your trunk beside the stairs in case you needed to make a quick escape, you walked into the living room, staring at your shoes, afraid your parents had already pulled out a wedding dress and pamphlets of various venues waiting to be hired.

"How lovely to see you," your mother smiled, getting out of her seat to pull you into a hug before your dad cleared his throat.

Yeah, go on, scare her away from me like you always do.

Your mum quickly sat back down beside your father who didn't hug you or welcome you home. Instead, he pulled two moving photographs from the pocket in his waistcoat, setting them face down on the table in front of you.

This must be the family he's chosen for me.

"Well dressed like I asked, thank you." He smiled "You'll be happy to know that the family we have picked out for you are rather eager to... get the ball rolling. They've been kind enough to offer to cover the costs of the wedding, and helping you move into their home once you have married their son."

A wedding... I won't get to choose...

Moving into their home... where I cannot escape...

Fred cursed under his breath standing in his kitchen, the bottom of his trousers heavy and drenched because of the water rising up to his ankles. He dragged himself around the kitchen, searching for some parchment and a quill, but with no luck, he grabbed the muggle telephone, trying to remember how to ring his brother.

"Hello, George Weasley speaking-"

"Alright, Mr Fancy arse" Fred replied, swearing as his shoes started to squelch with each step "Look, I need some help."

Angelina could be heard in the background, telling George to meet her at the airport after she lands with the boys.

"What's up, Freddie?"

Fred sighed "I'm up to my ankles in water, a bloody pipe burst and these muggles take ages to get here. The whole house will be flooded by the time you get here, can I crash at your place? I don't want to bother mum, she's got enough going on with Ron and Hermione's newborn."

George smirked through the phone, amused at his brother's bad luck with something as simple as a water pipe, magic not being able to fix it after a prank going wrong with Fred's wand.

"Of course, me, Angelina, and the boys will be gone for a few weeks though, there's enough food and that - all I ask is that you look after the owls for us."

Fred walked up the steps, his lower legs now getting wet "Thank you, George, I owe you one!"

"It's okay Freddie, just don't get up to any trouble."

"I won't. Say hi to Charlie for me!"

If Gideon and Fabian knew Uncle Fred was staying at the house too, they would have texted you, sent an owl if they didn't have any signal, but they didn't know - and their father didn't think to tell them.

If Fred knew a younger girl would be staying in the house, he would have rented a room somewhere else, hell, he would've stayed in the office above the shop, but he didn't know.

And you of all people would've forced yourself to stay under your parent's roof for a little longer, or jump on a plane and bump into Gideon and Fabian just by chance, but they didn't tell you.

Fred always felt amazed when he was in George's house - it was large and cosy, a proper family home, a master bedroom with an ensuite, two guestrooms where you had slept during previous summer - where the twins often slept instead of their own room from time to time, and a large bathroom that could fit in the whole Weasley family.

You swallowed hard, shifting in the stiff chair, you shook your head, your voice wobbly as you tried to speak.

"Dad, I appreciate all of this, I really do - but I'm an adult, it isn't your choice or right to make decisions for me, I don't want to get married, I don't want to live with another-"

You wanted to continue, but Y/D/N glared at you, he spoke through gritted teeth, flipping over the photographs of the family trying to buy you for their son.

"How dare you disrespect me. After everything I have done for you, for this family, you are not an adult, you still act like a child!"

"I'm eighteen!" you snapped, feeling brave, finding your voice.

"You are still living under my roof! You will do as I say!"

Your mother did nothing but stare into the fireplace, perhaps deep in thought or imagining you in a white lace dress, walking down the aisle with a face smile plastered on your face.

"No, I will not!"

"You will!" your dad bellowed, rising out of his chair "because they are coming to meet you in an hour and you better comply, girl!"

Tears pricked at your eyes, your chest tightened and the familiar lump formed in your throat. Staring down at the picture made you sick to your stomach, you recognised the young lad in the photograph, for he was no other than Scorpius Malfoy.

"The Malfoys!" you also stood up "I will never, ever marry into that family! Not after what they did!"

Y/D/N grunted "What are you going to do? Marry a Weasley? Work in a joke shop and be a laughing stock for a living?"

You stormed out of the living room, grabbing your trunk, your mother continued to stare into the flames, blocking out everything around her, smiling about what could have been.

Your dad followed you, grabbing the other handle on your trunk, pulling you to him.

"You aren't going anywhere!"

"I'm going anywhere but here!" you snarled back, your trunk opened and your clothes dropped onto the floor, letting go, you stormed up the stairs and sprinted to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Frantically, you pulled out your phone, messaging the twins.

Y/N: They want me to marry into the Malfoy family! I can't fucking do it.

Fabian: Wait. Scorpius?

Gideon: You've got to be joking.

Y/N: No! I'm not! His family are coming to meet me in the next hour, what the fuck am I going to do?

Gideon: Puking Pastilles?

Y/N: No, I'm not risking leaving this bedroom if I'm not going outside.

Fabian: You've got our house key, use it genius.

Y/N: I will tonight, I just need to fake this shit, hopefully, I won't be married by morning, I'll run away to yours in the night.

Gideon: Be careful.

Fabian: Don't do anything we wouldn't do.

Y/N: Why do you think I'm running away? The Malfoys are the worst match!

Fred got used to being alone in the house after a week, blasting loud music, dancing like no one was watching, walking around in nothing but his boxers as the summer heat became unbearable. He felt on top of the world, he was alone, enjoying himself, in a huge house all to himself.

Managing to escape through the night as you had planned, you were taken by surprise when you arrived at George's manor to find the lights on and music blaring through the walls.

Maybe the twins came home early to surprise me.

Knocking on the door was pointless, even if you yelled the music was too loud to compete with. Pulling out your key, you unlocked the door and walked inside, setting your bags down on the table on the porch, hanging your coat up on the peg. Following the music you stopped in your tracks, in front of you was Fred, dancing in his boxers, sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, playing the air guitar. Your cheeks started to go red. If this was a prank, it was definitely well thought out - but deep down, you knew that Fabian and Gideon hadn't come home.

You had met Fred before, you always visited the joke shop with your friends and he had been at George's many times over Christmas, and Summer when he wasn't working. Each time you had seen him, he had always been on his own, no girlfriend, no ring on his finger.

Fred spins around with his eyes closed and opens them as he faces you, he jumps out of his skin and instantly covers his private parts with his hands as his eyes met yours, you grabbed the remote and rapidly paused the blaring music.

"W-What are you doing here?!" he asked, breathless and red.

You picked up one of his T-Shirts and threw it at him, leaning against the table, staring at your shoes as he got dressed "I could ask you the same thing." you replied shyly.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @inglourious-imagines @reeophidian @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx @onlyfreds @lucymfer @livvysnaps @supermassiveblackhope @youralternantpersonality @xgoodbyexinnocencex @gustepasilyte 

[girlmeetsliv3]

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

           “Please state your name for the record.”

           “Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

           “This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

           “Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

           YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

           “What news channel and around what time?”

           “KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

           YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

           Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

           Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

           Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

           Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

           Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

           “Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

           Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

 “Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her.  At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

 Evening of June 20th, 2021

           Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

           “I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

           “I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

           “NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

           She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

           That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

           “Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

             The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

           “Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

           Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

           “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

All In

F/M Pairing: Fem!Reader x Chan x Changbin (SKZ)

Genre: Established Relationship AU

Warnings: Oh. My. The Smut!! Language, alcohol use (minor), and please let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Word Count: 8.5K

Summary: Where you find yourself quite literally in the middle of Chan and Changbin, your two boyfriends who sometimes fight over what’s best for you.

A/N: Inspired by these asks from a lovely anon: here, here, and here!! Also, nobody on this Earth can tell me that they wouldn’t love to have both Chan and Changbin as their boyfriend.

Tagging @skzwriternet​

There were less than one hundred words to type for your latest freelance assignment, but you were bored with the project - a mundane piece about the effectiveness of self-driving cars.

But you always had two people who could brighten your afternoon, and you just so happened to stumble upon your most recent text conversations with Changbin while scrolling mindlessly through your applications. You smiled at the message you had composed for him, knowing that he wouldn’t take well to your teasing:

To Changbin:

Binnie, I’m wearing the lingerie you bought for me.

You giggled at the obvious flirtation, but you also figured that Changbin was too busy to respond, and you were ready to put your phone away when an unexpected message flashed across the screen.

From Changbin:

Show me.

You swallowed hard at the request. Did he really mean that? Could you sneak away from your writing and snap a few pictures for your boyfriend?

Of course you could. It wouldn’t be the first time that you entertained Changbin’s demands to see you all dressed up for him. And in consideration of the all the nice things he did for you on a regular basis, you could sacrifice a few minutes of writing time to indulge his fantasies.

Plus, since you were home alone, you had no issue taking off your t-shirt and sweatpants, exposing the saucy lingerie you wore underneath - a cute black thong and matching bralette that complimented your figure. It was clearly everything that Changbin loved to see on you according to his preferences, and you experimented with different angles, holding out your phone as your spread your legs across the couch, giving Changbin a perfect view of the tiny piece of fabric cupping your heat.

And after your impromptu photo shoot, you scrolled through the snapped pictures, picking the best ones, and nodding in satisfaction at your careful selections before sending the images to Changbin’s awaiting inbox.

From there, it only took five minutes for him to respond, and you glanced at the delivered message from him and shivered:

From Changbin:

Oh, princess, I’m gonna ruin you.

The message held all sorts of ominous implications, and you made sure to greet Changbin at the door because he was inclined to give you the cold shoulder if you ignored him.

You smiled at him as he removed his coat and tie, allowing him to corner you against the wall, accepting his eager kisses as his hands dug into the meaty part of your thighs. “Come here,” he said, crooking his fingers at you while you proceeded to follow him into the living room like a well-trained dog.

You watched as Changbin took a seat on the couch, patting his lap to show you where he expected you to sit, and you were more than eager to straddle his thick thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he reconnected your lips. The taste of him was like the literal embodiment of passion, and you were moaning across the seam of his mouth while Changbin hiked your skirt further up your legs, groaning when he spotted a flash of black, hands kneading your ass as he rocked you against his hardening erection. “That’s a pretty sight,” Changbin said, and he connected your lips once more, kissing you with all the romance and care that defined Changbin’s affectionate side. 

It reminded you, however briefly, that Changbin’s demonstrations of love had always stood in stark contradiction to Chan’s rough and aggressive treatment because it was often very difficult to even beg a compliment from your older boyfriend. “Your mind is somewhere else, princess,” Changbin interrupted your thoughts, tapping his fingers against your forehead to bring you back into the moment with him. “What were you thinking about?”

“You, of course,” you told him, running your hands down his shirt-covered chest, feeling the buttons as they crossed your palms.

“Good,” Changbin growled while he managed to successfully tuck your skirt around your delicate waistline, leaving you almost fully exposed where he clearly wanted you the most. “You sent me those pictures in the middle of my meeting,” Changbin continued, and you gasped when one of his fingers defied the barrier of fabric contouring your lower half, sinking into your warm heat with a sudden penetration.

“Changbin,” you whined, burying your face against the spot between his neck and shoulder, moving your hips to fuck yourself down against his finger because it was becoming clear to you that it would be all you were getting from him - a punishment for your earlier actions. “M’ sorry,” you said, breaths coating his skin with a thin sheen of perspiration while you tried to take him further inside, sitting down and enjoying every bit of friction as he scraped his nail against your sensitive walls.

“We’ll see how sorry you are,” Changbin said, latching his lips against the front of your throat to suck the skin between his teeth, determined to leave a mark. 

And you would’ve complained about the red blemish that he was going to leave behind had it not been for the sound of the door opening as your other boyfriend returned home. But he was earlier than you expected, not that it deterred Changbin in the slightest who didn’t even seem to notice that Chan was standing in the entranceway to your shared living room. Eyes narrowed as he took in the scene of you being split apart at the seams.

“You both knew better,” Chan said, and it was an unusual greeting that prompted you into attention, realizing that something was wrong when Chan tossed his expensive leather briefcase onto the counter before rolling up his sleeves - something he only ever did when he was trying to be more intimidating. “Did you forget our plans for tonight?”

You gasped and froze in Changbin’s lap, suddenly feeling every bit like a bolt of electricity had just run through your entire being, switching off your arousal-addled brain even while Changbin seemed to be on a totally different wavelength, adding yet another finger and filling the room with loud squelching sounds. 

It only served to piss off Chan even more, and you squealed when he interrupted Changbin to lift you up beneath your arms, tossing you over his shoulder with your thong-clad ass still on full display. 

“Hey!” Changbin protested, fingers shining with the evidence of what he had just been doing to your poor throbbing pussy.

“You both knew that we had dinner tonight,” Chan called back over his shoulder, and his tone carried an obvious warning. 

But Changbin wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences, and you were already dreading whatever Chan had planned when he dumped you unceremoniously onto the mattress in the master bedroom.

“Bend over,” Chan growled, and you whimpered but obeyed him, bracing yourself higher using your forearms for support. His hand twisted itself into your hair, turning your face to the side so that you were forced to look into his eyes. “What do bad girls get, Y/N?” 

“No, Channie,” you whined because the thought of going to this expensive dinner tonight with a sore ass was not high on your list of priorities.

“No?” Chan repeated, and you hated to hear him so furious, landing a hard smack to your backside without any prior warning. “Do you want to try that again?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, wincing at the sting. “I forgot about the dinner.”

“You forgot?” Chan scoffed, and you knew that you had just dug yourself into an even deeper hole, wrestling against Chan’s hold even as he allowed three more firm hits in quick succession. “Why is that, baby? Did it slip your mind when you were letting Changbin finger-fuck you into oblivion?”

“It’s not her fault,” came a much-needed interruption from the man in question, and Chan turned around with a glare to look at Changbin who had joined the two of you in the bedroom. “I forgot about it too.”

Chan scoffed in disbelief, running a hand over his face with a growl. “Were you both ignoring me for this entire week? Or, did you think I was just making up stories about the dinner that my office was hosting for our big case?”

“Lay off, Chan,” Changbin muttered, and you were only slightly relieved when you felt him soothe his hand across the burning skin of your ass. “We only have an hour before we have to leave.”

You watched as Chan paused, looking at nothing in particular, but it was something Chan always did whenever he had to begrudgingly agree with Changbin, even when it meant interrupting whatever punishment his sadistic mind had concocted for you. Because Chan hated to be interrupted, almost as much as he hated being left out or forgotten. He always made these things into a much bigger deal because he had a rough past where he was frequently neglected and ignored. It manifested itself into bouts of frustration that evolved into situations like this with you hunched over in place, praying that Changbin had gotten through to Chan and your boyfriend would forget all about your stupid mishap.

“Hurry up,” Chan eventually conceded, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he left the bedroom.

Chan was a big, fancy lawyer upstate with a bunch of older partners who had willingly taken him under their wing when he graduated. However, back when you had first met Chan in college, he was much quieter and withdrawn, and you couldn’t even imagine how he would ever become a successful lawyer. But he changed, much like most people do during those formative years.

Chan was a lot more confident in several aspects of his life, including his job and the relationship he had joined with you and Changbin. But you might never get used to how he exerted himself around others, with a degree of self-assuredness that spoke to his accolades. For example, Chan’s introduction of you when one of his colleagues opened the door to their fancy penthouse suite, examining you and Changbin with scrutiny while Chan offered your names and proceeded to make you both seem far more important than you really were...not that Changbin’s office job was anything to be ashamed of, but Chan would really play up the two of you when he was looking to impress.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful,” the man at the door offered, eyeing you with an interest that you didn’t appreciate, especially when Chan tried to tug you away from Changbin and closer to himself....and the pig eyeballing your chest.

Which is why you hesitated, clinging even tighter to Changbin’s arm, but Chan shot you a warning glare, and you reluctantly offered your hand to him which he held in a firm grip. “Hello,” you said to the Senior partner who smiled and forced a wet kiss to the back of your outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” the man continued. “Come inside, we have plenty to drink.”

Chan laughed at the rather unfunny quip, waiting for the older man to head back further inside before turning on you and Changbin. “Behave,” Chan snapped, looking between you and Changbin with a fierce glare. 

“Whatever,” Changbin grumbled, which you could tell that Chan didn’t appreciate, but he withheld the urge to argue.

Instead, Chan led the two of you into the outlandishly decorated penthouse, and you swallowed hard at the appearance of a golden chandelier hanging down from the ceiling - perfectly affluent in every means of the word. “Damn,” Changbin whispered, and you could tell that he was just as impressed as you.

And your open-mouthed wonder of the lavish space persisted throughout the rest of the evening - every time you tasted the sweetest champagne, nibbled on the most extravagant finger foods (caviar???), and indulged in the sweet little chocolates as they passed you on the trays of the smartly-dressed waiters. It was good enough to keep you entertained while Chan flitted from person to person, eventually leaving you and Changbin behind in the living room to go outside onto the balcony and enjoy a pricey cigar with some “very important” people.

Changbin sighed as he caught sight of Chan outside, craning his head back in laughter and smoke exhaled from his nose. “I don’t get why Chan wants to impress all these assholes,” Changbin said, tipping back his champagne to finish off the rest. “That old bastard over there in the corner? He hasn’t stopped looking at your tits since we sat down.”

“Changbin!” you hissed, incredulous that he would say something like that aloud.

“What? I can’t blame him,” he said, eyeing the swell of your breasts with obvious interest. “How fast can I make you cum from playing with your tits if we snuck away into one of the bathrooms, princess?”

“Chan wants us to behave,” you replied, even though you were very much weak for Changbin’s lips wrapped around your sensitive nipples.

“He won’t even notice,” Changbin grumbled. “But at least he’s in a good mood. It’s a nice change from hearing him bitch all the time when he comes home from work.”

“It’s a stressful job,” you tried to defend your older boyfriend, but you and Changbin both knew that Chan was taking the extra work on purpose, hoping it might land him a promotion.

“You hate it just as much as I do,” Changbin argued, snatching another flute of champagne from a startled waiter, downing the contents in two sips.

“It makes him happy,” you said, shrugging while playing with the hem of your dress - an adorable satin present from Chan for your birthday this past year.

“So, we can’t be happy?” Changbin asked, and it was a fair question considering the amount of arguing that your boyfriends had been doing for the past several months. Everything from serious issues like buying a new apartment, to something as inconsequential as the quality of your kitchen silverware.

“This promotion thing can’t last forever,” you pointed out, ever one to be optimistic even when things seemed less than ideal.

“I just want to get out of these clothes,” Changbin complained, pinching at the tight material hugging his thighs. “I wear suits to work everyday, and I hate being forced to keep them on for shit like this.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to take it off for you when we get home,” you purred into Changbin’s ear, brushing your nose across the lobe.

“You better keep that promise,” Changbin growled in return, and you were thrilled by the look of lust in his gaze. Even more so when Chan finally returned to you both with a bright smile and glossed-over eyes, clearly the result of too much alcohol.

“Ready to leave?” he asked you both, and you had never seen Changbin more impatient to escape a party.

Once you were home, it didn’t take much to convince your boys to join you in the master bedroom - a few stray touches over clothes, whispered filtrations, and a quick flash of the expensive lingerie you wore underneath your dress before you found yourself kneeling between them on the bed.

Changbin had taken the initiative, kissing you like he was picking back up from where the two of you had left off from earlier that afternoon. And with some convincing, Chan agreed to share you tonight. Even though he still seemed grumpy about the fact that he couldn’t have you all to himself, but you were just glad that Chan was in a better mood, mouthing at your neck while Changbin unzipped your dress and drug it down your spine with his fingertips following the same direction.

“So good for us, princess,” Changbin said, taking a moment to look at you while Chan groped at your breasts through the thin material of your bra, nodding furiously when Changbin unlatched it from the back.

You allowed it to fall down your arms, leaving your entire upper half completely bare while you let Changbin drag you down onto the bed so that you were lying on your back with Chan dragging your panties down your legs. And Changbin had wrapped his arms around your torso, thumbs circling your nipples while he held you in an upright position, touching his lips against your shoulders.

“You made a mess, baby,” Chan remarked, and he spread your legs wide so that he could fuck into you with a grunt, starting an urgent pace from the second the head of his cock split your tight walls around him. 

“Oh!” you gasped, loving the rough handling from the very start, feeling yourself press back against Changbin with every thrust, nipples brushing across Chan’s abdomen as he held himself over you. 

It was pure heaven to be trapped between these two men, strong arms adjusting you to their liking, and thick cocks reaching places inside of you that had never been accessed before. 

“Does he feel good?” Changbin asked you, collecting the tears streaming down your face as you savored the glide of Chan’s cock between your folds. 

“Yes,” you managed between moans, reaching down to knot your fingers through Chan’s curls while your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, holding on for dear life as he used you to get himself off as quick as possible, cum dripping down onto the blankets underneath you.

And you came at the same time as your boyfriend, gasping for breath as Chan pulled out with a groan, supporting himself back against one of your pillows while Changbin brought you into his lap for his gentle touches, kissing the wet skin under your eyes and patiently waiting for your permission before he took his turn. 

Oh, but you never minded these nights when your boyfriends were compliant enough to share you, taking their turn fucking you until you were barely coherent. 

“Changbin,” you whispered to him, reaching down for his hard cock and giving his thick erection several strokes before guiding the tip to your entrance. 

“Green?” Changbin asked, checking in with your colors because he was always so considerate whenever the three of you had sex.

“Green,” you confirmed, and he was using raw power to lift you off his lap, biceps straining, moving you up and down his cock without any resistance.

“Oh, fuck, princess,” Changbin groaned, looking down at the place where his cock disappeared inside your pussy with longing. “Even after Chan fucked you...how can you be this tight?”

You whined at the comment, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he powered his cock between your pulsing walls, swallowing his cock and urging him to take you even deeper, kissing the head of your cervix with a delightful prod of his tip.

Changbin was built so strong - after all, he worked out every afternoon - but it was almost ridiculous how easily he handled you, forcing you along his cock with complete ease...like you weighed absolutely nothing. But it was unbelievably hot, and you could feel your thighs straining with the effort of holding yourself up in place, even if he was doing most of the work.

But he was hitting all your best spots from this angle, and you had almost blacked out after Changbin started furiously stroking your clit, sending you into another high that pushed your head right through the clouds. 

His cum joined Chan’s inside your sore pussy, and you could feel him softening despite the fact that your walls were still milking him for everything you could get.

“Greedy pussy,” Changbin panted, and you were almost proud of the fact that he looked just as exhausted as you did from your insane round of sex.

You were still breathing hard after your second orgasm of the night when you could feel the bed shift as Chan’s fingers dug into your hips, trying to force you away from Changbin. You whined in complaint because you weren’t quite ready for another round, squirming away from Chan and burying yourself even closer to Changbin’s warm chest.

Chan growled at your aversion, and you hesitantly glanced back over his shoulder to see that he wasn’t very happy with your unwillingness to let him have his next turn. “Gentle,” Changbin chided, and you whimpered when Chan’s strength won out and he manhandled you onto all fours, mounting you from behind before fucking his cock back inside without waiting for your compliance.

“Yellow, Chan,” you said, hoping that he would slow down, but it only seemed to spur Chan on even more, and he was practically bending you in half, pressing down on your lower back as his hips slammed against yours with every thrust.

“Stop,” Changbin snapped, and he shoved against Chan’s shoulder who wasn’t expecting the sudden weight, falling back onto the bed as his cock slipped free. “You’re being too rough,” Changbin said, and his eyes were narrowed at Chan as he pulled you closer, wrapping you into his arms and shushing your whimpers.

But Chan was even more pissed at Changbin’s interference, and you could only imagine the nasty look on his face as he spoke up from the opposite side of the bed. “You coddle her too much,” Chan said. “I know our limits.”

“Really?” Changbin snorted. “What kind of world do you live in where yellow means faster?”

“I would’ve stopped if she asked me to,” Chan said, and you were panicking on the inside because this sounded like the beginnings of another infamous fight between Chan and Changbin, and the two men were both stubborn and proud which meant that they could hold a grudge for weeks after an argument.

“Fuck, you just let her get away with whatever she wants,” Chan huffed. “She needs discipline!”

“She needs affection!”

“What the hell ever,” Chan snapped, and you watched him from the corner of your eye as he snatched his boxer shorts from the ground. “I can’t stand to look at you anymore tonight.”

“Good, maybe Y/N can have some peace without your negligent ass in the same room,” Changbin said, frowning when Chan shot him the middle finger over his shoulder on the way out, slamming the door to the bedroom closed with enough force to shake the entire apartment.

It wasn’t the first time that Chan and Changbin had fought with each other, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t give you any solace in the present, especially when fights between your boyfriends meant that your time was increasingly monopolized towards making sure that they didn’t do anything they might regret.

Of course, coming home after lunch with a friend, you weren’t expecting the detailed spreadsheet taped to the door of the master bedroom where you had been hoping to take a much-needed nap. “This is new,” you sighed, studying the worksheet outside the bedroom where a strict schedule dictated which of your two boyfriends would be sleeping with you - probably a product of Chan’s analytical brain.

On most occasions, whoever happened to fall asleep first would end up sleeping next to you in the bedroom, which had lately been Changbin because Chan often stayed up late to finish his work. However, given Chan’s competitive edge, you had a feeling that the two fought over this as well, resulting in the strict schedule that they would just expect you to accept.

“Chan!” you yelled, snatching the paper from the door while trying to track down your boyfriend. 

You walked out into the living room, discovering Changbin standing next to the large sliding glass door which led outside to the veranda - glass of wine in hand. “Probably in his office,” Changbin muttered. “He’s had a stick up his ass all day.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you thought you had gotten used to Changbin’s dramatics. “Are you really drinking before noon?”

“I needed it,” Changbin whined, holding out an arm so that you could slide into place next to his side, snuggled against his broad chest. “I think it’s fine to celebrate a day off from work with wine.”

“Let me taste,” you said, allowing Changbin to tilt the glass against your lips, swallowing down the grape-flavored liquid, until the sight of Chan walking around the corner had you choking around your mouthful.

“Careful, princess,” Changbin chuckled, frowning when he met Chan’s gaze.

“You called me,” Chan said, holding a bag in one hand, and using the other to snatch you away from Changbin, pulling you down onto his lap on the couch as he kissed you fiercely, keeping Changbin within his sights.

“Yeah,” you said, gasping for breath when you were forced to part from him. “I found this on the door?”

You held up the spreadsheet, arching one brow in question, but Chan merely shrugged and ignored the piece of paper as he reached into his pocket for something. “Look what I got you,” Chan said, opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous diamond necklace inside.

“Channie,” you whined, allowing him to fuss with the clasp as he hooked it around your neck, letting the diamond fall against your collarbone. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” Chan asked, pulling you even closer when Changbin sat down his wine glass on the side table. “I wanted to do something nice for you, baby.”

Oh, so this was the version of Chan you were getting? The one who demanded all of your attention in a petty attempt to keep you away from Changbin. Too bad your younger boyfriend didn’t get the message, looming over the two of you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done?” Changbin asked. “We had an agreement.”

“Duh, I’m not an idiot,” Chan snarked, keeping a smile on for you even as his shoulders tensed in anticipation of another brush with Changbin. “I’m with Y/N right now.”

“But it’s my night!” Changbin argued, and you felt like the metaphorical toy animal being torn in half by two less than willing siblings.

“The fucking sun is still up, smartass,” Chan said, sneering at Changbin as he dug his fingernails into your hips - a possessive gesture.

“You’re the one who thought making that stupid schedule would fix everything,” Changbin returned. “Y/N is mine!!”

“Boys!” you finally shouted, startling both of them as you forced yourself from Chan’s lap. “We’re not going to start this shit again, okay? I hate it when you both do this to me!”

“Princess..” Changbin whined, but his refusal to see reason wasn’t stopping your tirade, putting your foot down and ending this stupid argument before it got even worse - and it always did before there was any chance of it getting better. 

“No, Changbin,” you said, keeping your tone stern. “Last night was everyone’s fault. We know better than to just walk out without communicating - you both agreed to talk to each other whenever you disagreed on something. And I’m not just gonna sit here this time and watch you two treat each other like shit until someone breaks down to apologize! This fight is pointless, and I’m not about to let the two of you dictate my time because you can’t get along! Fix this shit now or you both sleep in the living room!”

You exhaled loudly at the end, taking deep breaths because you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so agitated. But that’s what your boyfriends brought out of you in situations like this, and you left them behind to work whatever problems they had between each other before barricading yourself in the bedroom with a cold bottle of water and some ibuprofen.

You didn’t cry over them this time; after all, plenty of their arguments in the past had driven you to tears and you were tired of it. Instead, you ruminated in silence, staring up at the ceiling of the master bedroom while waiting for the day’s exhaustion to finally catch-up to you.

However, you certainly didn’t anticipate a knocking at the door, followed by the sudden penetration of light from outside as Chan and Changbin both entered the bedroom while wearing matching looks of shame. “We’re sorry, princess,” Changbin said, keeping his head down as Chan sighed.

“You’re right about us fighting,” Chan said, and he walked over to the edge of the bed, brushing his fingers across your arm. “We talked about it, and we both know that it was a stupid fight. You didn’t deserve to put up with our mess.”

You snorted in agreement, patting the bed on either side of you as Chan and Chan eagerly snuggled against you from both sides, even if it was a tight fit on your queen-sized mattress. “S’ okay,” you said, allowing them both a kiss. “I went overboard too.”

“Not as much as us,” Changbin said, and his hand was gripping tightly to one of yours. 

“I’m used to your fights,” you said. “I just wish they wouldn’t happen.”

Changbin whined while Chan sat up a little to look down into your eyes. “You’re right, baby, and we’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Maybe even right now,” Changbin said, and his fingers teased the hem of your nightgown. “I think Chan and I can prove to you that we know how to play together.”

“I don’t know...” you trailed off, knowing full well you would eventually relent, especially once they started touching you - Changbin skimming his fingers across your thighs while Chan found your clit between the silky fabric of your gown. “Do you want me from both ends?” you asked, and you could tell that they both liked that idea.

“Let’s make sure you’re ready for us, princess,” Changbin said, and you moaned when his fingers disappeared under your gown to fill your pussy so well, working on stretching you for his impossible girth.

“Good boy,” you said, just to see Changbin blush while Chan worked hard to remove his clothes, fisting his cock as you let them both move you into position, helping Chan kneel down in front of you so that you could wrap your lips around his cock, tasting the precum already beaded on the tip.

Chan threw his head back with a groan as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, trying to ignore Changbin from behind you as he opened the bottle of lube, applying a liberal amount to his fingers before inserting his fingers again, moving along the walls of your tight cunt. 

“I love your mouth, baby,” Chan said, staring down at where you were hollowing your cheeks, taking him so well as the tip of his cock repeatedly hit the back of your throat. You tried not to gag, even as saliva pooled from around your lips, dripping down your chin and Chan’s cock.

“Are you ready for me?” Changbin asked, and you whimpered when Changbin’s cock penetrated you as you sunk down on him, groaning as his thickness stretched you to the point where you felt like he was in your stomach.

Chan was surprisingly gentle as he waited for you to adjust, only moving his hips at the same time as Changbin, and the three of you fell into a rhythm: once Changbin thrust his cock into you, Chan pulled you even further down his own erection, stuffing your mouth to the point where you couldn’t even hear yourself moan.

They used you like you were pliable, simply existing to satisfy them as you moved back and forth between the two men you loved. “You like this, don’t you, princess?” Changbin asked, grunting low in his chest as he started to pick up the pace, making it even harder to handle Chan’s full length in your mouth, sucking on his pulsating erection like your entire life depended on it. 

“She does,” Chan replied for you, since your mouth was full of him, but you could tell that he was close, supporting yourself against his thighs as you waited for him to spill down your throat.

“Touch her clit,” Changbin said, holding your hips to help piston his cock at just the right angle, and you were barely coherent when Chan instantly obeyed - bringing his thumb down to rub circles on the little bud that always brought you the most pleasure.

Full at both ends, with your clit and g-spot being stimulated just right, you were barely hanging on by a thread. But you didn’t want to cum first; thankfully, Chan came just before you failed to keep yourself together, emptying his release down your sore throat before focusing entirely on getting you off. And when Chan was determined to do something, he was always successful.

“Channie!” you cried, reaching a bombastic orgasm that had you nearly blacking out because Chan was still working your clit while Changbin continued to pound your little ass, working himself to fill you up with his cum.

“Changbin,” you gasped, trying to hold on so that he could release where he wanted, and it only took a few more pumps of his hips before his cum was filling you to the brim, leaking down your thighs as soon as Changbin pulled himself free, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“Fuck that was amazing,” Changbin said, and both he and Chan helped clean you up before holding you as best they could between one another on your too-small bed, but the lack of space did nothing to deter the fact that it still was the best aftercare you had ever experienced. 

But here’s one argument you could prevent in the future: who gets to sleep with you at night without forcing everyone to deal with a cramped space.

After your night of passionate lovemaking, you convinced Chan and Changbin that it was time to invest in a bed big enough for all three of you to share at night. Which is why you found yourself in the middle of a furniture store, perusing the endless options while Changbin quipped about the music selection playing overhead.

“What about this one?” you gasped, falling in love with the mahogany-colored wood frame, running your hand along the smooth surface before falling down onto the mattress, giggling when Changbin joined you.

Chan sighed as he scrutinized the display sign while you and Changbin rolled onto the bed together, stretching out your limbs because the king-sized mattress was enormous! “It’s amazing,” you continued, trying not to scream when Changbin started to dig his fingers in your sides playfully.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out of here,” Chan said, ever the responsible adult between the three of you.

“Well, we have to see if it works,” you pointed out, patting the space behind you as Chan rolled his eyes but crawled in next to you, warming you from behind while Changbin nuzzled into your neck. “This feels nice,” you said, allowing your boyfriends to spoon you from both sides.

“I like it too,” Changbin commented, smooching a kiss across your lips when you weren’t expecting it, whining because it was wet and messy.

“It’s a little out of our price range...” Chan ventured, but all you had to do was turn to look at him with your best pleading expression, and he was breaking down with a muttered curse while reaching for his wallet.

The next morning, you woke-up with Changbin holding you from behind, frowning when you realized that Chan must’ve stayed up late to finish his cases.

It defeated the purpose of waking up together, but at least you had fallen asleep with both of your boyfriends, and that was as fine of a start as any you could imagine. Hopefully, when Chan managed to calm down at work, you could enjoy those mornings you were imagining, smiling at both Changbin and Chan as you exchanged kisses and cuddles under the warm blankets.

“Mmm,” Changbin hummed from behind you, squeezing your waist while trying to open his eyes. “What time is it?”

“9,” you said, pecking his nose as he reluctantly let go of you, realizing that he had to be at work soon.

“Shower with me?” Changbin asked, and you hardly needed any convincing to join your muscular boyfriend underneath the warm pressure of the water, allowing him to run a bar of soap over your body, lingering around your breasts and the needy heat between your legs.

Afterward, the two of you walked into the kitchen together, and you discovered that Chan was already waiting with breakfast displayed on your finest plates. He watched you both as Changbin sat down at the table first so that he could perch you on his lap, holding you close while reaching for one of the croissants from the center basket. He started breaking off little pieces, bringing them up to your mouth to feed you while Chan seethed at the affectionate display.

“You’re being too nice,” you commented, allowing him a single kiss before he continued to dote on you, ignoring Chan who was mumbling about how there was a perfectly fine chair that you could sit on.

“Anything for my princess,” Changbin said, and you sighed because it was incredibly cheesy, but that was an endearing part of Changbin’s flirtations.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, puckering your lips for another kiss while you heard Chan muttering a curse from across the table. “Shall I clean up?” you asked once both men had their fill, grabbing the dirty dishes and carrying them over to the sink so that you could take care of them later.

In the meantime, you thought it might be nice to sit with your boyfriends for a while before they left for work, but you soon realized that a pleasant conversation was the last thing on Chan’s mind. And you gasped when Chan turned you around, bending you over the table and pulling your panties down your legs, spreading your thighs with his feet as he worked on his belt.

Changbin simply smirked at Chan’s actions, reading over the newspaper that he had stolen from Chan while sipping at his coffee - like it was just another casual morning in your shared household.

Perhaps it was true, but you couldn’t help the first moan that slipped free from your lips when his cock filled you with a pleasant stretch. “How does that feel, baby?” Chan asked taunting you with little rolls of his hips that were far too teasing for your liking.

“Faster,” you begged him, and he seemed to be in one of those moods where he ignored what you wanted, pulling out slowly and repeating the sensual motions over and over again at a snail’s pace, keeping you just dangling from what would drive you to the edge. 

But Chan was being petty after putting up with Changbin’s doting, refusing to just give-in and pound you onto his cock like you knew he could. Instead, you could tell that he was punishing you for not sitting at the table earlier, forcing him to watch you swoon over Changbin. And jealous Chan was a greedy lover, which meant that every time Changbin so much as glanced in your direction, Chan was trying to shield your body from his gaze, burying his face into the side of your neck as his cock stroked your insides so well.

“Don’t get cum on the floor,” Changbin said, peeking at you from over the top of the paper. “It’s hard to clean.”

It was a throwaway comment, but Chan didn’t take well to Changbin’s interruption, and he started moving even faster, forcing more moans to leave your lips as he started hitting your g-spot perfectly on every thrust. “Like you haven’t done it before,” Chan growled in return, hands holding your hips so tight as he pummeled you against the table, bruising your hips on each stroke that forced you to collide with the rough wood.

It felt so good, even the pain from his touch and the table, and the added stimulation of Chan’s fingers moving messily around your clit - everything was guiding you by a string to the precipice. And you were more than willing to follow that string to the end, falling off the edge with an explosion of ecstasy, coming around Chan's cock with a stuttered gasp of his name. 

Your boyfriend grunted when you squeezed his cock so good, lips pressing against the back of your neck as he came inside, and you both remained in that position for a few moments longer, savoring the delicious release, until Changbin slammed down the newspaper and stood up to get you both a towel.

The remainder of the day progressed uneventfully, and you were still preoccupied with your freelance work by the time your boyfriends came home.

Chan must’ve went straight to the office, but you followed your nose to Chanbin who was standing in the kitchen over the stove. “Are you cooking tonight?” you asked Changbin, leaning into his weight as he smiled and offered you a gentle peck in return.

“Well, it was supposed to be Chan’s night, but I didn’t want to bother him when he got home,” Changbin explained.

“He must be in a bad mood,” you remarked, keeping yourself perched on the counter-top next to Changbin as he grilled.

“Go check on him,” Changbin suggested, giving your ass a teasing slap when you hopped down from the counter.

But it was far too quiet when you stood outside of the office, holding your breath once you knocked and received no response.

“Chan?” you asked, opening the door to the office so that you could step inside the room.

You frowned when you discovered that Chan was sitting at his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen as his fingers made a mess of his curly locks. “Are you okay?” you asked him, and the sound of your voice interrupted whatever strange reverie he must’ve been locked inside.

But the look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. “What did I say about interrupting me while I’m working?” Chan growled, forcing you to bend over his lap as he pulled up the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your ass to him. 

“Chan...”

“Y/N,” he replied, and you relaxed when you realized that his tone wasn’t angry - he was just looking for a way to relieve his frustration.

“I’m sorry I came in here,” you said, playing along with his charade.

“It’s too late for apologies,” Chan said. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“Ten?” you asked, wincing when Chan hummed in response and started to rub his hand over your ass.

“I think that’s sufficient,” he agreed before giving you the first slap - a sharp stinging pain that went straight to the wet arousal decorating the front of your panties. “Make sure you count for me.”

“One,” you whispered, closing your eyes and relishing the closeness to your boyfriend’s evident excitement - erection already straining through his jeans.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and the next three hits were much harder than the first, filling the room with the sound of skin-on-skin and your stuttered counting, gritting your teeth through the pain laced with something erotic.

You wondered if Changbin was curious about your absence, or if he just assumed that something like this would happen: you stretched out across Chan’s lap, his cock digging into your stomach, while he imprinted his hand across your ass. 

“Ten,” you eventually exhaled, sucking in a sharp breath when Chan grabbed you by your hair, curling his fingers through the strands while forcing your head to look at him, colliding your lips together in a messy exchange of tongue and teeth.

“Look at you,” Chan said when you broke apart for air, hoisting you higher on his lap to bring your back against his chest, shoving his hand down the front of your panties to run his fingers through your wet folds.

“Right there,” you gasped when he inserted an index finger to the knuckle, using his thumb to canvas rough patterns of circles against your throbbing clitoris.

“I’ll finish you off, baby,” Chan growled into your ear. “But I expect you to return the favor.”

“I will, Channie,” you promised him, whining when he pulled his fingers from your panties, gripping you beneath your underarms to help you turn around on his lap.

“At the same time,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle his pants and free his engorged length. 

You moaned when he held himself at the base of his erection, rubbing his tip against your clit, stroking himself with a tight fist while you used one hand to ground yourself against his shoulder. 

Eventually, you took over from him, pleasuring his cock so that he could return his attention to your needy cunt, inserting two fingers this time and giving your clit the pressure you needed to cum spiraling out of control, dropping your head against his chest as you finished him off - feeling his release drip down your hand.

“Y/N,” Chan grunted, and you managed to look at him when he kissed you again - something sweet and soft that melted you. Because kisses like this were rare from Chan, and you figured it had something to do with the fact that Changbin wasn’t around to tease him. 

“I think dinner will be ready soon,” you whispered against him, leaning back to offer him a smile since the one you received in return reached every warm part inside of you.

When you and Chan emerged from the office, Changbin made a grand ceremony out of his latest concoction - some kind of stew that was meant to be really healthy.

But the smell was questionable, and Chan grimaced after his first bite. “Uh, what the hell is this supposed to be?”

“You don’t like it?” Changbin asked, looking at you for a second opinion, and you forced a smile while taking another bite.

“It’s good, Binnie,” you reassured him, and Chan frowned at your blatant lie while Changbin smirked in that self-satisfying way of his that always promised a good time for you later on.

Still, the three of you managed to have an amiable dinner, talking about everything from Chan’s work to your latest freelance projects. There was a good atmosphere following the end of your meal, and you promised Changbin that you would help him clean-up, following him into the kitchen with a smirk.

You both started on the dishes together, but you made sure to tease him at every opportunity, brushing your hands and fingers together when he handed you a plate, or rubbing your chest against his back whenever you walked between the counters.

Eventually, Changbin gave-up on his practiced indifference, looking at you with a playful gaze. “Is there something you want?” Changbin asked, and you didn’t even need to say anything as you dropped down onto your knees in front of him. “Did you like dinner that much?” Changbin chuckled, but you ignored him while working down the zipper of his jeans, reaching inside for his half-hard cock before giving yourself a taste of his beading precum.

Changbin inhaled at the first touch of pleasure, bracing his arms back against the counter while he watched you work your magic with hooded eyes. “Was this your plan all along, princess?” he asked, but you knew that Changbin was a big talker whenever it came to one of your legendary blowjobs, and you continued to ignore him while taking as much of his girthy length as you could manage, feeling your lips part around him as you relaxed your jaw and throat.

“Can I takeover?” Changbin asked, and you gave a quick nod before one of his hands was coming down to grab your hair, thrusting his hips to force the rest of his length into your warm mouth, forcing you to gag at the sudden intrusion. “So good,” Changbin whispered, throwing back his head with a moan. 

It made you feel good too - knowing that Changbin was taking so much pleasure from your mouth, tongue tracing the slit at his tip because you knew that he was extra sensitive there. And Changbin reacted just as you thought he would - growling out your name as he lost all control and jerked his hips back and forth to get the most out of what you were offering to him.

You would have a killer sore throat in the morning, but it was worth it to see the blissed-out look on Changbin’s face, watching him cum with a mumbled curse around your name.

“I guess I’ll have to cook more often,” Changbin remarked, pulling you up onto your feet to kiss away your tears.

Later on, you sat between your sated boyfriends on the couch, watching some sort of Christmas movie on TV while disregarding the popcorn that Chan had made.

But your eyes were starting to grow heavier, leaning more of your weight against Changbin as you tried not to fall asleep. It was starting to get late, and you knew that Chan had noticed the signs of your exhaustion when he turned to look at you for a moment before looking back at the film. “Bed, Y/N,” Chan said, still staring at the TV and ignoring the way you cuddled even closer to Changbin.

“She can stay up until the movie ends,” Changbin said, carding his fingers through your hair.

“She’ll feel like shit when she wakes up early in the morning,” Chan retorted.

You frowned when you sensed another argument between them. “Let’s have a bath together,” you suggested, breathing a sigh of relief when they both reluctantly agreed.

“But then you’re going to bed,” Chan inserted, and you rolled your eyes but agreed with him.

It was just Chan’s way of looking after you, and the three of you walked to the bathroom together, Chan working on getting the water to the perfect temperature while you and Changbin made a big show of taking off the other’s clothes, running your hands across bare skin and kissing him with tired eyes.

“Go ahead,” Chan said, starting to remove his own shirt and pants while Changbin sunk down beneath the water first with a groan, holding out his hand for you.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, feeling nothing short of affectionate as you offered him another kiss before you sensed Chan making himself comfortable behind you.

You squealed when Chan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest while Changbin reached for your discarded razor from the sink, supporting one leg against the tile while he started to run the blade across the expanse of your skin. 

“Comfortable, princess?” Changbin asked, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“We should do this more often,” you said, smiling when Chan started to massage some of your shampoo into your hair.

“But not too late,” Chan reminded you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by him; after all, he was only trying to take care of you - they both were - and you could think of no better ending to a chaotic afternoon than the situation you found yourself in - enjoying the presence of both your boyfriends as they showed you just how much they loved you. 

[hb-writes]

A Little Reflection

1923 

Clara was seething as she looked down at her company diary. She groaned aloud at the appointment scratched down there under today’s date. Polly’s tight script wrote out two simple directives: Church - 4 o ‘clock 

She glanced at the clock. It was already quarter ‘til and it was a twenty-minute walk, but Clara still hadn’t decided whether she was going to pull herself from the solace of the office to sit through what was sure to be a lecture. She had already sat through a full day of school so she wasn’t keen to receive any further lengthy speeches. 

In the end, it was Michael who got Clara up and out, offering to walk her as far as the edge of Digbeth since he also had a meeting that way, but she wasn’t eager for his company. Clara thought it might be her cousin’s fault that she was being summoned to the church, but she didn’t want to risk two lectures in the span of one afternoon, and potentially another from Tommy when he and Grace made it home from New York, so it was without much of a fight that Clara shrugged into her coat and marched alongside her cousin in something close to silence. 

The heels of Clara’s boots announced her arrival in the church, bringing a bit of unwanted attention to her lateness as she strolled down the center aisle. Polly was already settled in a pew, her eyes drawn closed, her mind seemingly lost in some silent vigil. 

“I saved you a seat,” Polly said, her words quiet but clear. The woman’s eyes remained closed as Clara glanced around the empty church, snorting a bit at her aunt’s dry wit. 

Clara slipped in beside her aunt and Polly opened her eyes, quiet as she waited for the girl to settle. 

“Has your cousin spoken with you?” 

“Well, just like the rest of them, your son speaks at me all the while, so I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific."

Since they'd had some friends to Polly's Sutton Coldfield house over the weekend while she was visiting Ada, Clara guessed it had to do with that. She couldn't imagine anything else would require her being hauled down to the church on a Tuesday afternoon, but Clara had no plans to offer up that information.

"Have you forgotten you're speaking to Aunt Polly and not your brother?"

Clara glanced at her aunt. "So, we’re here for a lecture, then?”

“We’re here for a little reflection,” Polly answered. “Seems you need it.”

Clara didn’t understand her aunt’s insistence on reflecting from the pew of a church. Clara did plenty of reflection on her own, twisting and turning over every little thought until she’d assessed just about every realistic possibility, and a few unrealistic ones as well. She certainly didn’t need a church to do it. Clara had no trouble getting lost in reflection—not at school or in bed late at night or while out for a little walk.

And if the draw of reflection at church was presence of God, Clara didn’t agree with that either. If there was a God, and Clara thought that might be quite a significant if, she couldn’t imagine they only existed within the four walls of a church. 

"So, a confession, you mean?" Clara said. She knew that's what her aunt was truly after. Polly wanted Clara to tell her a bit of truth about something. The reflection would come later, like when she wasn’t allowed any fun for the rest of the week. "Why aren't you dragging the boys in for confession as well?"

Polly nodded towards the door. "Your brother just left."

Of course, she would start with Finn. He had the loosest lips of the three of them and was by far the easiest to pull a confession from.

"That little—" Clara started.

"Don't go bad-mouthing your brother. He tried to tell me you weren't even there,” Polly said. “He’s loyal to you to a fault, that boy.” 

Polly’s words forced a brief smile from Clara. She and Finn had their fighting moments, but he was exactly what Polly had said, loyal to his twin sister to a fault. 

"So, it was Michael, then, I suppose?" Clara said, straightening the already straightened gloves that sat in her lap. "Well, whatever he's told you, I can assure you he's lying."

"About what?" Polly said, her sharp words quickly following Clara’s.

Clara hummed, the sound she made acting as a question.

“What is it Michael’s lied to me about?”

"Oh, um, about…" Clara cleared her throat. "Well, about whatever it is he's told you."

Polly stared at her niece with an eyebrow raised, a nearly amused smile on her face.

"About…about the whiskey?" Clara offered into the quiet between them.

"And what might Michael have told me about the whiskey?"

"That I had a very small amount of your whiskey?" Clara held up two fingers to demonstrate the amount.

"Well, your cousin didn't mention any whiskey," Polly said, "but he did mention a get together and a broken—"

Clara’s reaction took over her whole body, a bit of poorly-veiled shock coming to her face as she slid her now rigid body down the pew to put a measure of distance between herself and her aunt. "I didn't—" 

Polly cleared her throat. "A broken vase," she said, her voice a bit raised, "which Michael has taken full responsibility for. Already purchased a replacement from his wages and insisted it was an accident. Now I suppose that's what Michael must be lying about?"

Clara sucked in her bottom lip and began idly chewing as she contemplated her response. Michael was lying about that. It was Clara and Finn who broke the vase, or Clara supposed it was technically Finn’s arm which hit the vase and sent it crashing to the floor, but Clara had shoved him just before. 

Polly never should have known any of that though. They’d cleaned it up and agreed not to speak of it again. Polly didn’t care about all the little trinkets. They’d rearranged the shelf and assumed it wouldn’t come up, and if it did, it would be so far in the future they’d all be safe enough from any true retribution.

"Well, um, actually—"

"He said to me, 'Mum, don't be cross with Finn and Clara. It was my fault. They had nothing to do with it’."

Clara nodded her head a few times. "Well, good. It’s good Michael decided to come clean. Sounds like we're all squared up, then, eh?" Clara made to stand up but Polly caught her arm, the gentle application of Polly's fingers enough to stop Clara. Without a word, she lowered and once again settled back against the pew.

"So, you think he's told me the truth then?" Polly asked, her tone a bit softer than it had been up until now. 

Polly knew Michael had lied to her about the vase. It wasn’t the first thing Clara and Finn had their hands in breaking. And the twins always tried to hide their mishaps rather than just coming clean. And despite knowing better, they always assumed they could simply clean up and rearrange some things without Polly noticing.

Clara nodded. "Well, I believe so. If Michael says he's done it and he's paid for a new one, then—"

"Well, he also said that you let someone out of your room at four in the morning, so what was that one truth as well? Or a lie, do you think?"

Clara gulped, her throat and mouth suddenly going scratchy and dry. She thought about calling her cousin’s words a lie, not bothering to elaborate on the fact that the only part of it that was untrue was the time. She'd let someone out of her room at half-past three in the morning, not at four.

"And before you answer, remember who it is you're speaking to."

"Aunt Polly, it's really not what it sounds like."

"Well, I certainly hope not because it sounds like you were drunk on whiskey with a boy in your room."

Clara didn't answer and Polly turned towards her. "Am I meant to take that silence as confirmation that this was exactly what it sounds like?"

"No, not exactly," Clara answered. "There was a boy," Clara shifted in her seat. "And there was a very insignificantly small amount of whiskey. And they were both in my room, but it wasn't like that."

"Who?" Polly asked.

"What?"

"Tell me the boy's name."

"No."

"No?"

"Why would I? So you can tell my brothers and they can threaten to cut whoever it is. And anyway, I'm sure Michael's already—"

"Michael didn't see who it was, only heard the click of the door and you whispering out in the hall."

Clara was regretting her claim of the bedroom beside her cousin's. It had a nice view of the garden and she had fallen in love with it before Michael rejoined the family, but it was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

"Well, good," Clara said. "It's not particularly important who it was. All that's important is that nothing's happened, nothing like you're thinking anyway. It's not like that."

Polly gave Clara a long look as she determined whether or not the girl was telling the truth.

"You’re lucky it was your cousin who heard you and not one of your brothers, lucky he came to me instead of them with this nonsense."

"If I was lucky, he would have just kept his fu—" Polly shot her a look and Clara shut her mouth. "And it's not nonsense. It's—"

"Love?" Polly said, cutting Clara off before she could even begin. "We all think it’s love at your age, sweetheart. The feeling will pass and you’ll be grateful you didn’t waste your time.”

"I never said anything about lo—"

"There will be plenty of time for boys," Polly said, "when you're a little older. You’ll settle down with a nice—"

"A nice boy my brothers choose for me?” Clara laughed. “I think I'll take my chances and just do as I please instead."

“You will not,” Polly answered, the sharpness of her tone startling Clara a bit. “You’ll listen to your brothers and your cousin and to me because it’s not only your safety we’re concerned about here, now is it?”

“My safety’s not even—”

“It is a concern. There’s things... business you don’t know about and your safety is always a concern. And when those boys are concerned about your safety, they're not thinking of their own. When they’re thinking about whether you’re off somewhere you’re not meant to be or making friends with someone you’re not meant to be making friends with, their heads are with you. So, you tell me who you were with and let me decide whether or not it’s a concern."

Clara considered her aunt’s words and knew they were at least a bit true. It was why they all liked her to be tucked away safe when Blinder business was afoot. Knowing she wasn’t at risk freed up a bit of space in their heads and allowed them to focus. Clara took a deep breath. "It was just Isiah."

"Just Isiah?"

"Just Isiah," Clara repeated. "We were just talking and we fell asleep. I swear."

Polly barely took a second to study her niece and determine the authenticity of the statement. It was the plain truth and Polly knew it. “I thought you and Isiah weren’t on speaking terms?”

Clara shrugged. “We are now.”

Polly nodded. "Well, I believe you were both told several years ago that you’re much too old for sleepovers, even if he is just Isiah." Polly stood up, pulling on her gloves as she stepped past Clara. “And this best be the last I hear you’ve been in the whiskey, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clara muttered.

“And Clara?”

Clara glanced up at her aunt who was now standing a few pews away.

“Don’t think I don’t know it was you and Finn who broke the vase.” 

Clara bit her lip. “But Michael—”

“Is another boy in this family who’s loyal to you to a fault,” Polly answered. “He only came to me because he was concerned about you.” Polly watched Clara working through her words. “More concerned about his cousin than what his mum would do to him over a party and a broken vase.” 

Polly waited for Clara’s acknowledgment and then turned and walked away, her heels clicking as she made her way down the center aisle.

Clara stayed in the empty church, settling in for a bit of reflection.

[missjaystone]

Familiar Faces

Summary: Sam sets out to find his soulmate after his dream life wound up being just that, a dream. He just wants to find his happy ever after. Word Count: 3,930 Pairing(s): Sam Wilson x Reader Warnings: Death (mentioned), Smut, Rough(ish) sex

(This is the sequel to ‘Old Faces’, please read that one first)

Sam didn't tell anyone what happened in his dream if you could call it that; now that he was awake and knew none of that ever happened, it felt like a nightmare or a cruel joke. He dug through old boxes for close to two hours before he found what he was looking for; a box with a handful of pictures from the time he spent with you and Riley before they shipped out. You'd sent the pictures to them not long after they left, he kept them along with the letters you wrote them in a little lockbox. He always kept the key for it on his keychain. He scrambled to look at different letters and pictures for your address, he knew it was on there somewhere.

Half an hour and a dozen groans of frustration and he finally found it! '3197 N 10th St, Washington DC', it was written clear as day and he could recognize your handwriting from a mile away; it was always a little slanted to the side and it was usually smudged in at least three places because your hand always ran across it when you wrote or went back to dot your i's and cross your t's. "FRIDAY, can you look up the owner of 3197 North 10th st in Washington, DC? And their contact information?" He called out to the AI. There was a confirmation sound before it answered in 20 seconds "it's owned by Richard and Owen Johnson." He frowned some "can you look up anyone named y/f/n y/l/n in DC?" Another sound before the AI answered him "there are two thousand four hundred thirteen people with that name." He groaned "how many of them went to the FBI academy in Quantico?" "None," the AI said almost immediately. "Open the search nationwide-no, global, then crosscheck it with anyone who served or actively serves as a special agent with the FBI or any of America's agencies," he ordered, he was getting nervous. His mind started to wander; what if something awful happened to you? The AI's voice broke him out of his thoughts "there is one person in the United States that fits that criteria."

"Where? Where is she?" Sam asked excitedly. "Records indicate she lived in New Haven, Connecticut the past year but a rental application for an apartment in Greenwich Village can be found as well, both dated within the past two weeks." Sam's hopes were quickly rising as he wrote the new address down. "Where's the closest VA office to her apartment?" Sam finally asked after debating. He couldn't just show up on your doorstep out of the blue, but showing up at the VA in the hope you'd go there like any other veteran wouldn't be so weird would it? He'd look the place up online and find a meeting schedule later, now he just wanted to go back to sleep for a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After visiting the VA for two weeks, and no sign of you, Sam was beginning to lose hope and get worried again. Steve encouraged him to go out for a drink with him and Bucky if only to distract him for a night. Bucky all but dragged him with them when Sam said he'd rather not. On the car ride to the bar, Sam figured a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt, what's the worst that could happen. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer, looking around the crowded bar curiously. He'd only been there for ten minutes when he decided to get out for some fresh air, slipping away from his friends while they were briefly distracted. He didn't know where it was taking him but he followed the part of his brain that told him to walk down the street. Maybe he followed his mind, hoping the pull would somehow lead to you. He wanted nothing more than to believe that soulmates had a special bond that pulled them together, maybe that's just what he needed to think to stay sane.

He needed to believe all the stories he heard growing up about soulmates being pulled together, about how nothing could keep them apart from one another. He may have denied it initially but he was well past that. No other woman he saw made him feel the way you did; he knew they never could. He started walking past a park but stopped, not giving it a second thought when his mind told him to go in. With it being almost 9 on a weeknight, he wasn't surprised the park was devoid of kids and adults. Then he saw the figure sitting on top of the monkey bars and he smiled to himself.

"Little late to be out isn't it?" He asked when he stopped a couple of feet behind the figure. "Says the man who's also out at this time," was the reply, accompanied by a quiet laugh. "I had a dream you were here, you know," Sam admitted sheepishly. If it wasn't so dark out and he wasn't behind you, you would've seen his blushing face "I mean, not here exactly, I had a dream you were in New York. I've been looking just about everywhere for you." "Work keeps me busy, I've technically lived here for two weeks but I've only spent about three days in town," you answered. "Understandable," he said with a quiet, nervous laugh. A silence filled the space around you both. Sam knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He sighed quietly and bit his lip "I'm sorry I disappeared on you after we lost him. You needed someone to lean on and it should have been me. I shouldn't have let my own emotions consume me and leave you in the dust," he finally said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam, losing him was as huge for you as it was for me. I was never mad at you; your feelings were your own and you did what was best for yourself. I can't be mad at you for taking care of yourself," you told him, finally looking over at him. He started to argue but you knew what he'd say "I mean it, Sam. I don't ever want you to feel bad for taking care of yourself. You knew what you needed, I knew what I needed and that's that." "I thought you blamed me for his death though, I should've-" he started to argue. You shushed him "people always want to find someone to blame when things go wrong, even if that person is themselves, it's supposed to make it easier to accept I think, because if someone is to blame, then a bad thing didn't just happen, it had a reason behind it. There's nothing you could have done to save him, you were both doing your jobs. I know you think it's your fault but it isn't, Sam, and I never thought otherwise."

Sam smiled, he felt like a weight he didn't even know he carried had been lifted. He'd heard it before but it only ever took away part of the blame he felt. Hearing it from you made it feel true, you saying it made him believe it. He felt like he could breathe again. "You know, I didn't want you to be my soulmate," he said, eyes widening immediately in embarrassment. That's not how he wanted it to come out. "Ouch," you mumbled but held back a laugh. You'd seen him nervous before, it was usually a little entertaining. "I mean I did! Don't get me wrong, god I wanted it but I always worried I'd be too old for you, you know. I didn't want you to get stuck with someone old enough to be your young dad, I thought maybe you'd be able to find someone closer to your age, someone who wasn't friends with the guy who basically raised you," he rambled quickly.

You rolled your eyes and let out a laugh before leaning over the edge of the monkey bars until you were hanging upside down, face to face with him "why would I do that? I didn't have a bond with anyone else the way I did with you. Age be damned, I was an adult when we met, and I was and am more than capable of making my own choices." "Maybe I was just too scared of being rejected then. Do you know how much it's supposed to hurt when your soulmate rejects you?" He asked with a small hum, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek.

"Oh please, who in their right mind could reject you?" You asked and flashed a small smirk. "God you're a pain," he said jokingly before stepping forward and planting his lips on yours in a gentle kiss. It had a passionate, longing feel to it, like it was something you'd both been waiting for ages for it. Your hanging upside down made it a little awkward but that didn't deter either of you. You tried to pull him closer, only to struggle; you lightly shoved his chest when he laughed. "So, I'm not getting rejected right?" Was the first thing he said when your lips separated. His tone was joking but even in the dark, you could see the nervous look on his face. "I'd never reject you, Sam; I love you," you told him, looking directly into his eyes so he knew you meant it.

He beamed a bright grin, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone softly "I love you too, I wish it hadn't taken so long for this to happen, for us to finally end up together." "Me too, Sam," you were grinning from ear to ear as you looked at him. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He asked happily. "I'd like that a lot, maybe you can tell me what you've been up to and why two men are staring at us," you stated with a grin. When he gave you a confused look, you nodded past him where two men were stood at the park's entrance, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant and acting like they weren't trying to eavesdrop. "Shoo!" Sam yelled when he looked back at them. He let out an exasperated sigh and an embarrassed chuckle "just a guy who ripped my steering wheel out of my car while I was in it and another guy who likes to show off by frequently running past me. Don't worry, they're just lonely old men, I promise they won't always be around to watch like that." You laughed and grinned "well I can't wait to hear those stories."

When the blood rushing to your head became too much, you finally got off the monkey bars and stretched. You didn't hesitate to kiss him, this time wrapping your arms around him. His own arms were around your waist in an instant, drawing you close until you were flush against his chest. This one was sweeter than before, it was calm and comforting. "How about we go grab a bite to eat right now? There's a pretty good burger place open until midnight a block and a half away," he offered. "Then what're we still doing standing here?" You asked sarcastically, a teasing smile on your face as you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. "That's my girl," he laughed to himself and begin walking with you. "By the way, was that Captain America watching us?" You asked after walking in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. "Yup, unfortunately," Sam chuckled. "So you're either a superhero or some kind of terrorist now?" You teased. "Yeah, but if I tell which one I'd have to kill you," he said with a playful nudge to your side. "Right," you said sarcastically, both of you immediately bursting into laughter. Life felt right. You felt happy for the first time since your godfather's death.

The walk was quick and since it was almost 9:30 at night, almost nobody else was there so you got your food quickly. "So, we're fighting this guy in an airport, and I swear I don't think he's ever been in a fight before because he is so damn talkative. I mean it, he won't shut up. Anyway, he shoots this white substance at us, which in and of itself is unsettling and we're stuck on the ground. He's still talking and it's like a villain's monologue except it wasn't terrifying, it was annoying. I call in Redwing and he just launches this guy out the window and then Bucky says 'you couldn't have done that sooner' and I so badly wanted to smack him or at the very least send him flying through a window," Sam explains, rolling his eyes dramatically while you laughed, having to put down your burger so you didn't take a bite and choke. "And Bucky's the one who ripped your steering wheel out, right?" You asked, just to be sure. "Yup and every day with that dumbass is a test," Sam laughed and grinned. "Well, it's a good thing you have experience with dumbasses, huh?" You asked jokingly. "You know I do, baby."

You and Sam actually wound up staying at the place until they closed at midnight. Once you left, you two just began walking around, savoring each other's company and getting close again. "You wanna go back to my place? It's not that far from here," you offered with a smile. "Really? I thought you lived in Greenwich, I saw the apartment application online," he admitted before coughing and clearing his throat; he really didn't want to mention how much information he looked up online. "I applied to it but found a place here in Manhattan I liked better," you'd question him later about that little tidbit of information he had.

True to your word, the walk to your home was only fifteen minutes tops. "Sorry about all the boxes everywhere, I'm still unpacking everything," you apologized with a sheepish smile as you closed the front door behind you. "I've seen worse, baby, don't worry about it," he said with a casual shrug and a smile. Another silence fell upon you as you looked at each other. Even being together, there was still a pull and you both felt it. He gently pulled you to him and kissed you. This time, the kiss was desperate and hungry, consuming both of you. He held you by your hips, keeping you as close as physically possible. Your arm wrapped around his neck while your free hand cupped his cheeks as the kiss became more heated. It was like you suddenly couldn't get enough of each other.

When Sam finally broke away from the kiss, a small groan leaving his lips as he looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes "where's your bedroom?" "Down the hall, last door on the left," you mumbled, already dragging him down the hallway as you spoke. You'd taken two steps into the room when he picked you up and semi-gracefully tossed you onto the bed. He quickly moved to cover your body with his, caging you beneath him as he attacked your neck with kisses and a few soft bites. There was an urgency in both of your movements as you each hurried to undress the other while trying to keep as little space as possible between your bodies.

Soon, clothes were strewn across the bedroom; your bra was thrown over the lamp on your bedside table, his boxes landed in front of your dresser with his pants not far away. His fingers delved deep into your core and moved slowly, the little moans and gasps of pleasure spurring him on. The way his fingers repeatedly grazed over those spots you had trouble reaching even with your best toys had you melting underneath him. He watched with a proud, adoring smirk as he brought you right up to the edge before stopping and pulling his fingers out. He chuckled when you groaned in frustration, looking up at him pleadingly "Sam!"

"Hm?" He asked, a small teasing smirk on his face as he slowly licked them clean. You narrowed your eyes for a second before returning a teasing smirk of your own "either fuck me yourself or I'll use one of my toys while you sit in a corner." Sam tried to hide the way his eyes widened briefly "you wouldn't dare." You nodded with a smug smile on your face "well, my friend got me a new thrusting vibrator as a joke gift and I haven't had time to use it yet." You looked at each other in a silent staring contest, daring the other to do something. "God damn it, I can't tell if you're bluffing," he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours in a fervorous kiss which you were more than happy to return.

Sam haphazardly wrapped your legs around his waist and after impatiently lining his member at your entrance, he slowly thrust into you. You both let out groans of pleasure, your head falling back onto the pillow while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He started dragging his hips slowly, just savoring the feeling of being with you in a way so intimate he thought he'd only dream it. Once he got more comfortable, he set a slow pace, savoring the feeling of each slow drag of his hips. Your soft moans were music to his ears, and knowing that he was the cause made his heart swell. "I love you so much," your voice was soft and breathy, he could tell you were right there with him on cloud 9. You looked so peaceful as he slowly fucked into you and if he could take a picture, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted from the pure bliss you felt. If only your eyes were open, you'd have seen the switch that flipped in his mind when you softly moaned his name.

When he got comfortable, he slowly pulled his hips back until the tip was just barely in before slamming back into the hilt, smirking at the loud moan you let out. He moved his hips fast now, making sure to reach the innermost depths of your cunt with each stroke of his cock. "F-fuck, S-sam!" You almost screamed when he started roughly playing with your clit. He smirked down at you, eyes completely dark now as he asked: "yeah, you think a toy can do this? Can a piece of plastic fuck you this way?" He pinched your clit when you took too long to answer him, making your words hitch in your throat, his hips pistoning into you brutally. You quickly shook your head while your nails dug into his shoulders, a quiet 'no' leaving your lips as you shook your head. "Louder, I want everyone to hear it, I wanna hear you tell everyone who fucks you this good," his voice was becoming husky and his thrusts came harder, punctuating every few words.

"You, Sam! No-no toy can fun me like this!" You shouted, body beginning to shake as your orgasm quickly crept closer. "Yeah? Who's girl are you, huh? Don't you dare cum until I say so," He demanded, grabbing your jaw and making you look directly into his eyes. "Yours, Sam! I'm yours!" You choked out, a low whine following your words while a few tears of pure pleasure ran down your cheeks. "Who owns your cunt, baby? Scream his name so all of New York knows and then you can cum all over my dick," he demanded again, squeezing your jaw slightly. His own hips were stuttering as he did everything he could to hold back. "Sam!" You screamed his name like a prayer before being blinded by white-hot pleasure as you came undone beneath him. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he came, his face falling to your chest as his hips rolled slowly. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest before he reluctantly pulled his softening member out of you and collapsed next to you.

He watched your panting form for a few moments before he got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned with a damp rag, he moved the covers away and gently cleaned your combined arousal from between your legs, frowning some at the way your body jolted at his touch. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked nervously. You shook your head, sending him a lazy smile "no, no I'm fine, Sam." "Are you sure? Because I know I got a little rough. I have no idea where that came from, I just-when you moaned my name it set something off I guess," he rambled with a nervous frown still on his face. With a quiet groan, you made yourself sit up so you could look at him. You cupped his cheeks and smiled "that was the best sex I've ever had, I'm fine, just a little sore because it's been a while." "How long?" He asked curiously before he could stop himself. You laughed some "three years, like I said work keeps me busy." He smiled and laid down, carefully pulling you with him "that makes both of us, baby."

The way he slowly rubbed your back made you melt in his embrace, sighing happily. He planted a soft kiss to your temple and yawned "I love you so much, (y/n). There's no place I'd rather be in this moment, or ever again." "I love you too, Sam, so damn much," you whispered, eyes falling shut as you snuggled close to him. A comfortable silence filled the room but only for a minute before Sam spoke again "wait, are you on anything?" You shook your head "we'll deal with that in the morning, I don't have the energy right now."

He fell silent but you could feel his eyes on you. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, you couldn't quite read the expression on his face "what?" He bit his lip in thought, debating on whether to say what was on his mind "well, what if we didn't deal with it?" "What?" You asked him, your confusion evident. "I'm just saying, what if we didn't deal with it, y'know. What if we just let whatever happens happen?" He suggested sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Sam, are you suggesting that we-?" You asked, your brain unwilling to find and utter the words. "Look, (y/n), I spent all these years without you and now I feel like I have to make up for lost time. Don't worry, I'll respect if you aren't ready or don't want that. I just want you to know that's where I'm at," he said softly, absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

You'd never given much thought to family life but thinking about it with Sam, having children and raising a family together, it sounded appealing. It suddenly felt like something you couldn't live without. You pecked his lips softly before resting your head back on his chest, closing your eyes "let's just go to sleep and see what happens in the weeks to come." You could hear the fondness in his voice when he spoke "if it's a boy, can we name him Paul after my dad?" "Obviously, now turn the light off and go to sleep," you mumbled tiredly, earning a tired, quiet laugh.