#mayb like 3 people would b like yo i knew her.. she was quiet

[winking]

i feel like......... im not feeling good..... im not satisfied w my life

[multiplefandomfics]

Kidnapped

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!reader

Warnings: Dubcon, smut, A/B/O dynamics, age gap, underage, forcefully induced heat, mind control, hypocrisy, breeding kink, knotting, trauma, hydra

Words: 3615

A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first attempt at ABO. I’ve read a lot of those so I hope I’ll get this right. So don’t be too hard on me. And now enjoy.

Omegas had become almost extinct. More and more kids were born who turned out betas and the rest were almost always alphas. So maybe it is easy to understand that when you turned out to be an omega at the age of 17 your value to your mother suddenly skyrocketed. 

Your other siblings were all betas but you were suddenly special. The first heat your body put you through was a terrible strain on your body and took a lot of strength from you. A whole week was spent in delirium between fever and hallucinations. Your mother, a beta herself, had no idea how to help you and asked your family’s doctor for help.

He was very interested in you and your presentation and handed your mother a number to call. 

A week later two very polite men who looked like they had fallen out of a 1940s crime movie, stood in front of your door. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N? You have contacted us to take a look at your omega daughter?” the taller of the two asked.

“Yes. Please come in. We are in desperate need of advice. Her first heat was so terrible and I don’t know what to do if this gets even worse.” The men followed your mother to the livingroom and took the seats offered to them. 

“Our facility is very well equipped and we are very skilled in dealing with young omegas. We would be able to monitor her closely and give her the right suppressants to quell her natural heats.” one of them explained. 

“So you would take her with you?” your mother sounded sceptical. “Would we be able to see her? And when would she return home?” she asked.

The men shared a glance before continuing “She will be able to call once in a while and we will try our best to get her hormones in check and her home quickly.” the man ensured her. 

Your mother hesitated and the men noticed so they changed their tactic. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N. Your daughter is suffering badly and it will only get worse. We are the only ones who can actually help her. There aren’t a lot of experts in the field of A/B/O dynamics left. We definitely are your best shot. And if it helps to convince you, we can pay you handsomely for taking your daughter and giving her a shot at a normal life. How does 250.000$ sound?” your mother almost choked on her tea. “You want to pay me a quarter million dollars for her? You think I would sell my own daughter?” she was enraged, jumping up from her chair. “I want you to leave my house immediately.”

“Consider our offer for a moment please. We could help your daughter and learn from her case and you could finally sell off the mortgage to this house. We know that if you don’t take our money now you will have to move out soon. Do you want to move into a 3 room apartment with 4 children?” They knew a lot about your family which irritated your mother but she also quickly understood that they were right. 

After your father had died in Afghanistan 3 years ago it had not been easy for your family.

As a single mom of 4 and just a part time job at a dentist's office she worried greatly how to make a future for them. The money from the strange men would take a lot of those worries away from her. 

“Maybe you are right. She will come back to us quickly, right?” she asked to quell her guilty conscience.

“Of course, Mrs Y/L/N. She would be back in no time at all. We are very successful in what we do.” the men knew they had her in their grasp. 

“Alright then. I will go upstairs and explain everything to her and then I think it is best when you take her immediately.” she got up and went upstairs.

A few moments later they heard yelling and then crying from upstairs. But suddenly it was quiet. 

Another few minutes later you stumbled down the stairs, cowering behind your mother who held a duffel bag with some of your clothes and personal things. 

“Hello Y/N. How are you feeling?” the taller man smiled at you.

“I’m okay, thank you. So I will go with you?” she asked back. “And you can help me with my biology?” You seemed very innocent to the men and they were sure that you had no idea what your intended purpose was in this world. 

“Indeed we will make you more comfortable with your presentation. You will be able to return home quickly.” they ensured you too.

“Alright then.” you gave in. “Tell Joe, Lea and Maya that I love them and I will see them soon.” you instructed your mother and she nodded with tears in her eyes.

The men lead you to their car. The whole ride was silent. You looked out the window and saw landscapes passing by. The driver took so many turns that it didn’t take long for you to be completely confused and you had lost your orientation. 

The journey seemed to take forever and at some point you closed your eyes and fell asleep. 

You awoke disoriented and confused. You were laying on a bed in a sterile white room without a window but an adjoined bathroom. You sat up slowly to take in more of your surroundings. When you had decided to venture out further you noticed that the door was locked. You were trapped. Panic rose in your veins. What did that mean? Was this a kidnapping? 

Just when you were about to have a mental breakdown the door was unlocked and a man you had never seen before stepped inside. 

“Hello Miss Y/L/N. How are you feeling?” he asked you.

“Y/N is fine. I’m okay but why was the door locked?” you asked hesitantly.

“We didn’t mean to startle you. It was to your own protection. The compound we are currently in is comparable to a labyrinth. We just didn’t want you to get lost. Someone is going to come by later and give you a tour of the rooms you need to know. I am here to check out your vitals and ask you some questions. Is that alright with you?” He seemed nice enough.

“Ehm, yes it’s alright, I guess.” you sat back down on the bed while he took a seat on a chair. 

“Very well, how long ago was your first heat?” Those kinds of questions seemed very personal but after all they wanted to help you.

“My first heat was about 2 weeks ago. It was awful. Hurt so much and lasted about 6 days.”

“Good, that is interesting information. Have you been intimate with a male before?”

You swallowed thickly “No never.”

“So no potential alpha around?”

“No.”

“Good, good. Is someone in your family an omega?”

“No, I am the only one as far as I know.”

“That is quite rare. Normally this is hereditary. I will take your pulse, blood pressure and temperature now.”

After the doctor had left someone came and took you to a room where you were served some dinner.

The night you spent tossing and turning. So many thoughts coursed through your head until you fell asleep of exhaustion. 

You were rudely awoken by the cold neon lights being turned on. They ripped you out of a nice dream and you inwardly cursed them for it. 

“Good morning Y/N. Did you sleep well?” the voice of a tall blonde female doctor- or agent, or whatever, you were still not sure where these people belonged to- reached your ears.

“Good morning. I had some trouble sleeping. I felt somehow on edge. Probably the new surroundings.” you shrugged.

“That is possible. I need you to get dressed. Breakfast is ready and then we will start with your training and testing of different medications.” she smiled and you did as she asked.

Breakfast consisted of fruit and porridge and then they took you into the opposite direction of your room. 

You were led down multiple corridors until you reached a doctors room. 

“Hello Y/N. Please remove your shirt and lay down.” The doctor said. She was the first person in this organization who smelled different than the others you had met. Everyone else had a neutral scent other than her and it wasn’t a perfume but you couldn’t place it and let it go for now.

“So you are an omega.That’s why they brought you to me. I presented as an omega too when I was 16 years old. My biology dictated my life for years and that’s why I am quite happy that we can make it easier for you before it gets too bad to handle.” that explained the different smell.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but you are not on suppressants right?” she shook her head no. “I thought you smelled different. So that’s one of my superpowers as an omega?” you joked.

“Indeed it is. Do you have any more questions?” she saw your hesitation. “Don’t be shy. You can ask me anything.”

“Ehm… well during my first heat… I felt really hot and I had those very explicit fever dreams and then my body produced this… fluid out of my… ehm… you know.” you pointed toward your groin.

“Yes, I know what you mean. When you are in heat your body longs for a mate. Preferably an alpha to satiate your natural urges. The slick that your body produces is only a natural lubricant to make it easier for the alpha to slide in without hurting you.” she explained.

“So my only purpose in this world is basically to mate and give a few children to some alpha?” you asked unbelievingly.

“Not necessarily. We could find the right meds and suppressants for you and you could live your life alone until you decided it was time for a family or not. Your choice.”

“I like the way that sounds. So when do we start?” you asked exited.

“We will start right now. I am going to administer your first shot of a medication which will make you feel better.” 

She put on some latex gloves and prepared a syringe with a clear fluid.

“Alright, don’t move now please. I will give this right into your upper arm muscle.” said done. It stung a little but if that actually worked it was definitely worth it.

“All done. I will bring you back to your room now. These meds need some time to settle and you might feel a little uncomfortable later.” 

When you had arrived at your room she sent you inside with the words -“Someone will have an eye on you the next few hours. I will see you soon.” and locked the door behind you again. For your own protection they had said…

Before you had time to think about all of this your head hit the pillow and you were fast asleep. 

The next time you woke up you were in terrible pain. Your abdomen was cramping and your throat was bone dry. That could only mean one thing: the heat was back. But that should have been impossible. It wasn’t due for another 2-3 weeks. But here you were, sweating, hurting and in desperate need for something you weren’t ready for.

You didn’t even get the chance to get out of bed before the door flew open and two men grabbed you to pull you behind them. You were too weak to fight them when they pushed you into another cell which looked almost the same as yours. Only in that one someone was waiting for you.

The moment you were pushed into the room his eyes shot toward you, almost hidden under his shoulder long brown hair. His nostrils flared as he took in your potent scent.

“Omega.” he breathed and his pupils dilated.

He looked downright feral so you shrunk into the corner next to the closed and locked door. Though he really tried to hold himself together. You knew that he wanted to give into these primal urges the omega in you tried to push you to, too. 

Suddenly he wiped the hair off of his face and you had a first clear glance at his handsome face. And to your amazement you recognized him from your class trip to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C. the year before. 

His name was James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and he had fought in the 107th infantry in WWII. He had also been Steve Rogers- or as most people know him, Captain America’s- best friend and later part of the Howling Commandos. The only thing that didn’t add up here was the fact that he was supposedly dead since 1943. 

But you were so sure that the man standing before you was not a ghost as much as you were sure that he was not the same man who had gone to war in the 40’s. 

“James?” you whispered. He cocked his head so he must have heard you but he didn’t know what to do with your question.

“You are James Barnes born on March 10th in 1917. You don’t remember?” you asked in a louder voice.

“No.” he tried to sound secure but you could hear his voice slightly wavering. 

You wanted to help him so you took the risk and stepped closer. It might seem strange, standing in front of this intimidating hunk of a man, and feeling safe. The pain in your body had also almost disappeared. 

“What do you remember?” you asked him. He seemed really nervous by now, always trying to scent you.

“Pain. Missions. Training.” was all he said and you felt really bad for him.

“I am sorry to hear that. Do you want me to tell you everything I can remember about you? Maybe you will gain back some memory. And maybe you can tell me who these people are and why they forced me into heat early.” in that moment another terrible cramp invaded your lower abdomen and your legs gave out. But before your body could hit the ground his arms caught you and he carried you to his bed.

“Mhh omega you smell delicious. Can barely hold back.” he mumbled into the crook of your neck and you felt it too. The tall alpha seemed to somehow soothe the ache inside you but it wasn’t enough. 

In that moment you just let the omega in you take over. You started pulling frantically on his and your clothes until they were lying long forgotten on the floor of the dusty room.

“Need you ‘mega. You’re mine.” he growled at the sight of your boobs.

“Alpha please make it stop.” you whimpered and he growled louder at you calling him by his presentation. 

You let your biology completely rule you and followed your instinct. Crawling onto your hands and knees pushing your face into the pillow and your ass in the air. 

“Good omega. Presenting for your alpha.” his approval made you mewl.

He was quick to get behind you. In this state there was no foreplay needed. 

His right hand grabbed your buttcheek. It was soft and warm. When the index finger of his left hand followed your spine from the neck down you shuddered at the cold metal. 

“Tell me ‘mega, have you ever been with an alpha?” he asked while stroking a flesh finger through your glistening folds.

“No alpha. Haven’t been with anyone.” the realisation that you were a virgin let him hesitate for a second.

“Mhh I’m gonna make that virgin pussy feel so good. You want my cock ‘mega?”

“Yes, alpha please. Make the pain stop.” you begged him.

He took that invitation and slowly pushed the head of his massive length against your opening. “Relax ‘mega. I won’t hurt you.” his pressure got harder and then he slid in. The pain was intense for a moment until he slid in further. It felt like your channel was made for him. 

“Fuck doll you’re tight. Squeezing me so good. Gonna breed you ‘mega. You want that? Me filling you with pups.” he groaned and your channel squeezed him tighter in confirmation. 

In that heat of the moment none of you cared that this might be a bad idea.

He sped up his thrusts and your moans got even louder when he hit that magical spot inside you. 

“Feels so good.” you mewled.

“Come ‘mega! Come for me!” he commanded and something that had waited for his okay snapped. Your pussy clamped around him and he pushed in that bit deeper. His knot popped and he filled you with his cum all the while pulling you up with his metal arm across your chest and biting into your neck hard enough to break the skin, laying claim to you.

When you both had come down from your highs he rolled you over to lay on your side. He was still locked snug inside you and that would probably stay like that for a while. 

“You wanted me to tell you why they brought you here. The answer is for this exact cause. They want to keep me- or rather my alpha- in check. And they want to find out if the serum can be inherited.” he suddenly spoke up after a long pause.

“And do you want them to do that?” your question seemed to shock him a little.

“I didn’t expect that question. No one has ever asked me what I thought. And no! If we have pups I don’t want them to be treated the way I was. We would never know what happened to them.” he said sadly.

“Then let’s get out of here.” His knot had finally gotten down which gave you enough room to turn around.

“How? I may be able to vanish on my next mission but I won’t be able to take you with me.”

“Then play the part. They don’t know that you remember who you are. So when you get out of here the next time you get help and get me out later.”

“And who do you think would help me? A murderer.” he let his head hang low. 

“Steve Rogers. He was found a few years ago and has most recently been working with a group of people who call themselves The Avengers. I know you have the possibilities to find Steve and get him onto your side to help. Until then you will have to pretend you are still the brainwashed assassin they created because if they notice you will be put on ice or erased again.”

“I gotta admit that does sound like a plan. I will try everything in my power to succeed. I promise that I will get you out of here. Unscathed. You are my omega now. That means something to me.” he kissed the top of your head. 

“Thank you- Bucky. Is it fine when I call you that while we are alone?”  you asked him.

“Yes sure. I love when you say my name.” and then he gifted you with one of his rare smiles. 

The next few days were spent almost the same way. Until your heat was down. They took him away from you and you didn’t see him for at least 6 weeks. Hard to keep track of time without daylight.

They had brought you back to your room and you didn’t see any of the old doctors you had seen before your forcefully induced heat. They probably thought you would attack them. 

In week 7 they finally found out that their plan had worked. You were indeed pregnant. Oh, how you wanted to tell Bucky but everytime you asked for him they shut you down.

More weeks passed by. They didn’t tell you anything. Not even about the baby. 

By esteemed week 22 you were able to feel the pup kicking in your tummy and you were talking to him or her. You missed Bucky more and more. Up to the point where you thought they had wiped him again and he had failed your mission. 

One night you were awoken by chaos outside your door. Before you could get up the door bust in and in the frame stood Captain America himself. The relief you felt in that moment could hardly be measured. 

“Captain Rogers. I’m so glad to see you.” you expressed your feelings.

“Good to meet you Y/N.” he smiled at you then spoke into the comms inside his ear “I’ve got her. Room 503. She’s fine.” then he came over and insisted on carrying you out of the building. 

Somewhere on the way to the Quinjet you met Bucky again.

“Bucky! You`re alright! Oh, thank God. I missed you. And I’m pregnant. We did it.” you beamed at him.

“You’re alright too. I love you. Let's get you home.” he took you from Steve’s arms and carried you inside the jet.

A few months later you and Bucky moved into an apartment with your son and daughter.

[abyss-in-machines]

The First Move, Chapter 3

Two things: I didn’t expect (a) anyone to actually read these stories, and (b) actually request new chapters for this. I feel truly blessed. I am so, so, so, so sorry for the delay, but life really is super unpredictable, and I’m just blessed to still continue this. Thank you all, and I love you Gintsu shippers so much! @pwapuri @imxeracus here you go! \^_^/

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330785/chapters/70877502

“You kept muttering ‘Tsukki’ while drooling all over the bar counter last night. Who’s ‘Tsukki’?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Otose fixed a piercing glare on Gintoki, as if having made up her mind to extract this piece of information no matter what. “You had a stupid ass grin on face, and you couldn’t stop being gleeful. That’s too abnormal for ya.”

Gintoki shrugged, his deadpan expression all set. However, his insides were just about ready to explode. He hadn’t really cared to let anyone know about the fact that he and Tsukuyo were going out, and right now he was absolutely terrified to find out the repercussions of letting one of them know. Gintoki definitely did not wake up today expecting to answer oddball questions about his love life, but life sure found ways to throw curveballs at him.

Why now of all times...

Otose did have her suspicions too. She had noticed it when the silver haired idiot partied with the sunglasses-wearing NEET in the bar yesterday, and had drank to oblivion. The other one crashed, and had to be thrown out of the bar, but the samurai had stayed quiet, simply lying his head down on the bar counter and enjoying whatever was served to him in his dreamland. She had seen how he kept mumbling the same name over and over, making hugging motions, and doing the most cringing smooch faces she had ever seen, and it became crystal clear to her that this moron was head over heels in love with someone.

“What is it to you, baba, go choke on nicotine smoke, you ugly old hag.”

“Getting testy now, are we” Otose muttered under her breath, her eyes widening menacingly. “Here’s the thing. Normally I’d pass this off as one of your many buffoon acts, but I saw how you were behaving, and there’s no mistaking something is up. Now, you’re gonna spit it, or you start saying your prayers.”

“Woah, easy there, baba, what’s with the hostility, eh?”

“You’re not answering.”

Gintoki slumps on the counter, leaning his head onto the palm of his right hand. “Baba,” he groans. “This has really nothing to do with ya. I swear to god, just please let me enjoy my strawberry milk.” He shakes his head and starts itching his nose. “And do leave me be in peace. This fucking headache is killing me,” he yawns.

They both stare daggers at each other for some time, a deadpan red meeting a wrinkled, yet sharp black. And then she explodes.

“YOU BETTER START SPITTING OUT THE TRUTH RIGHT NOW OR I EVICT YOU THIS INSTANT!”

“NO WAY IN HELL, KUSOBABA! I DIDN’T WAKE UP AND HEAD DOWN HERE TO HEAR YOUR SCREAMS, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“ITS FUCKING 2 PM IN THE NOON, YOU SILVER HAIRED CLOWN!”

“Silver-haired clown? That’s a new one...”

Otose grits her teeth, racking her brain for ideas. Her eyes lit up, and she approaches Gintoki, smirking.

“Fine, have it your way. I’m pretty sure that the two kids would know who this ‘Tsukki’ is. And then I tell everyone.”

“Tell them what?”, he says, warily.

“That you’re in love.”

Gintoki’s heart stops. The old hag did figure it out already, she was just coaxing him to clean clean. He was vehemently cursing his past drunken self for indulging in another one of Hasegawa’s cheapskate drinking parties and putting him in this situation, while also thinking of how to squirm out of this situation. Maybe free labor might be his ticket out of this... even if the kids had been actually paying the rent on time now.

“Say, baba, how abou-“

“Nope, you ain’t getting out of this,” she states, grinning. “Only the answer, Gintoki.”

She sees how he’s internally battling it out, and cheers inwardly when he finally gives in and sighs. He takes a sip of the milk, and clears his throat.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he groans, and he straightens up, facing Otose. “Her name is Tsukuyo. She’s the leader of Yoshiwara’s police force, the Hyakka. She and I worked on a couple missions together, and we both helped each other out a couple of times. There, you happy now?”

Otose couldn’t believe her ears. The samurai had never ever leaned on anyone, or ever expressed his own thoughts and desires, and yet here he was, telling her about his love. Granted, she did extort the information out of him, but knowing him meant that Otose knew he would’ve never opened up. He had definitely changed since the time when the entire district had become a war zone, and Otose couldn’t help but smile at the man her adopted son had become.

“Come now, go on. How’d the two of you meet?”

“At Yoshiwara, when we were trying to get Seita to meet his mother.”

“Ah, I do remember you telling me about it. When did you two start going out?”

“It’s been a couple of months,” he said, retaining his signature bored face.

“And you didn’t let anyone else know?”

“It really wasn’t anyone else’s business, baba,” he shrugged, helping himself to some more milk. “Although I was gonna let them know sooner or later... just didn’t expect to have to talk about it this soon...”

Otose’s eyes flashed, another idea springing into mind. “Tell you what, I won’t tell anyone else if the two of you come over at the weekend for dinner here.”

“Done.”

Otose eyed his deadpan face. “...that was fast.”

“Free food. Can’t complain,” Gintoki retorts, as he finishes his milk. He gets up and stretches his arms and legs, preparing to leave, and doesn’t notices the bar doors sliding open and close. “Listen baba, just don’t tell this to anyone else, please. I ain’t ready yet for that commotion.” Otose nods curtly.

“Tell everyone what?”

Gintoki and Otose freeze, and slowly turn their heads towards the person standing at the bar entrance, a tall, red haired girl dressed in a red cheongsam, with a giant purple umbrella attached to her belt. She looked confused, and was staring intently at Gintoki, who stood still with his mouth agape.

“What were you guys talking about, Gin-chan? What can’t we know?”

Gintoki facepalmed.

*

Tsukuyo stood in front of the bar porch, unsure of what to do.

She had dressed up in her usual garb, not really keen on dressing up as fancy as she’d normally would for their date nights. Her self awareness over the roof, Tsukuyo was really struggling with trying to compose herself. It was awkward enough when Hinowa had found out that she was dating the perm head, and now she would have to talk about the same embarrassing topic with people she didn’t know at all. She was cursing her brain for being so bold and accepting the invitation, but there was really no way in hell that she could turn down the samurai’s request. Him actually asking something from her was a once-in-a-blue-moon event, and she could never forget the way his face lit up when she agreed. Small moment like those really made her appreciate the relationship that she shared with him, and she couldn’t be more thankful for his existence. Perhaps these dates have only served to deepen her love for him after all...

Remembering all of this, Tsukuyo steeled her resolve and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door slid open, with a green-haired maid standing close by inside. Wearing a blue yukata, she gestured Tsukuyo inside, greeting her with a small smile.

“Welcome, Tsukuyo-sama. My name is Tama. You’ll find Gintoki-sama and the others at the corner booth.”

“Thank you,” Tsukuyo replies, walking inside and looking around to see where they were seated. She didn’t need to look hard, for the silver perm in the corner was unmistakable. Gintoki had seen her too, and was waving at her.

“Yo, glad you could make it! Come over,” he spoke out. He sat lazily, but perched himself up as she approached close. Seated opposite to him were Shinpachi, Kagura, and an old woman she didn’t recognize.

“Tsukki’s here?!” Kagura shouts, and turns around to see Tsukuyo. She immediately jumps out of the booth, dashes at her, and pulls her into a tight hug. “TSUKKI! ITS BEEN TOO LONG!”

Tsukuyo smiles gently, and hugs her back. “I’ve missed you too, Kagura. It has been far too long. How have you been?”

Kagura pulls back, her face adorned with a radiant smile. “It’s been good, Tsukki. I’ve been training with Papi and working Yorozuya jobs, and got a small space hunting gig lined up soon, can’t wait for that.” She grabs Tsukuyo’s hand and brings her to the booth. “Come, we’ve got so much to catch up on!”

Otose and Shinpachi both stand up as Kagura brings Tsukuyo around, and Otose’s eyes widened. Here was a beautiful, blonde haired girl with eyes of purple, greeting Gintoki and Shinpachi, and conversing with Kagura, acting in the most normal of ways, something so uncommon in all of the people she encounters on a daily basis. And this is the woman dating the silver dumbass of all people... Otose really couldn’t figure out just how Gintoki had won the lottery. Coming back to sense, Otose cleared her throat and bowed her head to Tsukuyo.

“Greetings, Tsukuyo. I’m Otose, Gintoki’s landlord, and the owner of the bar. Thank you so much for coming over for dinner.”

Tsukuyo bowed in return, standing beside Gintoki. “Thank you for inviting me, Otose-san. I’m glad to be here.”

Otose smiled. And she’s well mannered too...

“All right, let’s all sit down. Catherine is readying the hotpot soon, and I’ve got enough ingredients for us all this time, so you can all eat to your fill. Yes, even you, Kagura.” Otose nods knowingly at Kagura, who cheers gleefully.

Gintoki’s eyes widen, and he looks at Otose. “Really went all out for this one, didn’t you, baba?”

Otose waves him away. “Urusai. We’re all long due for a celebration, anyway...”

Shinpachi nods, beaming. “She’s right, Gin-san. Thank you so much, Otose-san!”

Gintoki shrugs, content with it all. He moves closer to Tsukuyo, leaning close to her ear.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he whispers.

Tsukuyo blushes, and pinches Gintoki’s arm. He notices, and mocks a surprised face.

“No kunais? I’m flattered.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly want your forehead splattering blood all over the hot pot and ruining our dinner,” Tsukuyo retorts back coolly. Gintoki grins.

“Whatever. I’m just glad to see you here.”

She turns towards him, a pleased look on her face. “Me too.”

Otose notices their interactions, and for a brief moment sees her own young self with her husband flash in front of her eyes.

Young love is truly beautiful...

*

Otose really wasn’t kidding around. Gintoki had never seen so much food available in a hotpot before, and by the end of it even Kagura had her fill and was exhausted. Gran really did splurge this time, even offering free beer, which he was more than willing to indulge in. However, Gintoki made sure to keep the alcohol as far away as possible from Tsukuyo, and kept passing her glasses of water. He also saw how shy she was in collecting the cooked meat from the hotpot, and made sure to slide extra food on her plate whenever possible. To his amusement, she blushed every time he did that, which got him grinning ear to ear.

Feeling full and somewhat tipsy, he leaned on the corner wall of the booth, watching Shinpachi and Kagura, sitting opposite to him, bickering about Otsu-chan’s latest album. The kids had taken the news extremely well, with Shinpachi expressing his happiness at Gintoki’s relationship while Kagura endlessly threatening to chop his genital parts off should he ever make Tsukuyo sad. They were definitely estate about tonight’s dinner party, and had congratulated Tsukuyo as well (which she took very meekly, to his unending amazement). Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced Tsukuyo and Otose, sitting at the bar counter talking, and smiled. The old hag was very gracious, conversing with Tsukuyo in a kind tone Gintoki never though was possible for her. Tonight really just kept on giving. However, the exhaustion was claiming him fast, and Gintoki decided that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

Noticing the samurai falling asleep, Otose chuckled. “You know,” she started, looking at Tsukuyo, “I never imagined the day would come that this idiot would actually bring a girl into the place. Always causing a ruckus upstairs with the two kids, but I’m glad that he had them around. They’ve kept things lively around here, but don’t let them know I said it. They’d let it get over their heads.” She smiled, and so did Tsukuyo.

“Don’t know about the kids on that one, but I can surely agree the he would,” Tsukuyo giggled.

Otose sighs, leaning on the table. “I’ve never had kids. Never had the opportunity. As soon as the Joui war started, my husband enlisted along with another dear friend of mine. He perished there, saving people like he always did my entire life. He’s buried here, in Kabuki-who, and in every anniversary, I’d always make sure to visit his grave with food. So one day, I visit his grave bringing manju, and I place them close to the gravestone. Suddenly, I hear the voice of this silver haired brat asking for the food!” She chuckles, reminiscing. “The brat reaches out for the food and starts eating, and offers to make a promise. To protect me for life, no matter what.”

She grabs a bottle of sake and two small cups, filling the cups and placing one in front of Tsukuyo. “No matter what, Gintoki has always kept his word. Sure, the brat is clumsy with rent, but he, the kids, Tama, Catherine… they’re all family, my family. He’s the son I never had.” She takes a sip from the cup, slowly exhaling after. “And that’s why, seeing him today being so happy really moved me beyond words. I see what your presence does to him, Tsukuyo. I can tell you, the kid had never looked like this ever. Never.” At this, she bows, startling Tsukuyo. “Thank you so much, Tsukuyo.”

Tsukuyo, filled with gratitude, felt tears welling up, and hastily bowed back. “I’m honoured, Otose-san. Thank you for taking care of him as well.”

Otose notices the tears flowing silently down her cheek, and clutches her hands. “There, there…”

“There are times,” Tsukuyo said, “where I feel I don’t do enough for him, that I’m not worthy of him. Gintoki really changed my life for the better, and the debt I owe to him for saving me is something that I can never repay. I hope to everything that I’m good enough for him… I really hope…” At this point, Tsukuyo cannot stop the tears, and Otose immediately rushes to her side, bringing her into a warm embrace and consoling her.

“Tsukuyo dear, you really shouldn’t worry. He chose you, after all. Of course you are good enough. Actually now that I think about it, you’re definitely far too good for his lazy dumbass.” At this, Tsukuyo laughs slightly, and wipes her tears off. “To tell you the truth, we all owe him, not just you. That’s just who Sakata Gintoki is. He takes on, but he never asks for help. He’s always there for us. So, don’t worry at all.” Otose passes her the cup. “This will help.”

“Thank you,” Tsukuyo replies, as she accepts the cup and takes a sip. Just then, Gintoki walks in, stretching his arms out and yawning.

“Well, that was a good power nap, feel like I could drink some more now. Baba, whatcha talking about with…” he trails off as soon as he notices the cup in Tsukuyo’s hand.

“Nothing much, just discussing how useless you are, the usual.”

“Baba…” Gintoki whispers, shaking. “What have you done….” Otose notices his genuine concern, confused.

“What, I just gave her sake,” she states, as she turns towards Tsukuyo, only to recoil in shock. Tsukuyo’s face was glowing red. She was wearing an eerie smile, and she looked at Gintoki menacingly, almost like she was ready ready to charge at him.

“Well hellooooo there, Gin-sama… how was yer slumberrr… ready to DRINK SOME MORE, YA SAY?!?” Gintoki stood frozen, not moving a single muscle.

Oh no…

[woodzwrites]

good to me | song mingi

► genre: enemies to lovers!au, high school!au; angst, fluff

► pairing: reader x mingi

► word count: 8.8k

► warnings: explicit language, underage drinking/alcohol

everyone has had their fair share of first times. but for you, this surely wasn’t your first time attempting to get half-wasted: drunk enough to have fun with your friends who aren’t as half as giddy and energized as they are during the school day, but to also be able to drive back home safely before midnight and fall sound asleep in your room as if nothing happened.  and it’s not your first time at mingi’s high-scale hilltop pad. everyone knows that he probably came from a line of old money, but he was never treated like the new kid. miraculously, he immediately fit in when he transferred to your high school in the first year.

you stood on the side of the ping pong table, which had turned into an impromptu beer pong table for the sake of mingi and his friends’ constant gaming bets on each other. your close friend was up against mingi, who was standing on a wooden stool as if he wasn’t already a tree himself. he just had to make sure that everyone knew that this was his house. “y/n! help me out here huh?” she smirks from cheek to cheek and raises her cup too high with a little too much power that a couple of drops of beer spill out.  “what am i gonna gain from this?” you shouted at her over the loud trap music. “a chaance!” she shouts even louder than you as she tilts off the side of the table, tipsy. she falls back onto the couch behind you. “jesus....” only she knew about your slight, perhaps very minor, attraction to mingi since... sadly, freshman year. it had gone on and off, but it got worse as you got closer and closer to his friend circle and he started to (at least) acknowledge your presence. you still felt like a nobody to a lot of people but tonight, you wanted mingi to remember your name in the worst way possible. “hey mingi!” you screamed as you raised a solo cup filled with the beer you were still iffy about. he laughs with that stupid smile he’s had for years and squints to see that your friend isn’t there anymore. “y/n, who you tryna fight?” he takes a step down from his stool as he continues laughing. “you, headass.” his friends around the table all boo in unison towards mingi at the outlash from a girl like you. “oh, MY bad. let me put a fight with you, and we’ll see.” “wanna bet?” mingi’s head freezes and turns at you as he realizes, even over the entire commotion of his party, that you stole his line. his iconic line. “you win, you leave. cause i know you wanna leave. you lose, you’re stuck at my house until the crack of dawn until you make this house crystal clean,” he smirks and takes a larger sip of his beer as he gains a little more confidence from talking big with you. he always has. “damn......” almost the entire group around him echoes. “deal.” you smile even brighter at him and toss the first ping pong ball without his cue and immediately make it in. after countless rounds and the commotion around the game room getting louder and rowdier, it’s finished when mingi tosses the last ping pong ball.  “KOBE!” splash. an instant win as the ball floats on top of the solo cup, ever so gently on the cheap store-bought beer. everyone around mingi starts crowding around him as if he’s made the nba playoffs of the season, and you flip him off. your friends all laugh it off as you take your last shot of beer, and of course, you join in on the laughter. you text your mom that your friend is taking you and the “girls” out for boba, and that you’ll be home by midnight. yes, you were expected to be home by 10 because you sleep extremely early for a high school upperclassman. instead, you’re stuck with mingi and his dog cleaning up his house—which seems to have no end to it, from what you’ve been sweeping after for almost 30 minutes now—and being the slight gentleman he can at least be, he offers to take you home. “no, it’s fine,” you say from across the humongous kitchen with a swiffer in your hand. “my car’s parked down the street. i’m sober now, so i can drive.” “what, did you sneak out here?” mingi looks up with a questioning look. “maybe, maybe not,” you shrug and continue sweeping. “i didn’t expect the party to end that early,” he sighs and takes a nice, cold glass of water from his (take this) third samsung fridge in the house.  “maybe because it’s the middle of summer and people are actually tired? the best parts of summer are when it starts and ends. in the middle, you’re kinda scraping to make plans and do something,” you say from experience.  “damn facts,” he laughs and places his elbows on the side of the acrylic island as he gazes at you. you pretend not to notice, but walk farther away from the kitchen. “i’m gonna turn on some music, it’s too quiet.” “aren’t you already sick of being at your own party with the music ten times louder than it should be?” you turn around before you can maneuver away from the living space. “what? can’t hear you!” mingi had already planted his body into the silky soft couch by the fireplace as the spotify sound rang through the room.  you dropped the swiffer and called it a night. whatever, his cleaning ladies would come over whenever he would need them. before you could put on your lanyard attached with your car keys, mingi called you. “yo wait.” you didn’t look back. “you never look like you’re having fun at my parties. these are so exhausting for me to try and sneak all of these when my parents are out!” mingi whines. you don’t feel like replying so you flip him off again, signaling to him that every time you get caught up in his summer parties, you always end the night feeling ticked off.  “just dance a little.” you roll your eyes at him. “you’re literally one of the best dancers at school, i’ve never seen you dance normally at a party.” the compliment he sneaks in between the conversation makes the heat rise up to your cheeks a little, but somehow, you still find yourself walking back to the living room. “cause maybe,” you step harshly. “i don’t. want to.” “tuff,” he stands up and changes the song to goldlink crew. “how the hell do you want me to dance to this, this is like our chill song.” “damn you listen to my playlists?” you immediately object. “what? no- no, no. i mean like, everyone knows this song but i’m not gonna dance to it.” little did he know that you always listened to his playlists. you guys had similar music taste but you never fully admitted it to him and always said to people that you were open to all genres. in complete and terrible pitch, mingi throws himself around the countertop to face you. “she see money all around me,  i look like i’m the man” you roll your eyes at how obnoxious he’s being because it feels as if the party never ended. and yet somehow, you end up cracking up at him as he continuously becomes more and more drunk as the song continues. you tiredly give into singing along. “you came out of hiding, girl don’t act like i’m your man” you point at each other as mingi uses the crushed red solo cups left on the floor and you use the beer cans accidentally thrown into the sink as mics. now you know he’s completely drunk when he decides to stand on the counter top, his 6’1 looking ass nearly touching the ceiling. you try to pull him off by tugging on his arm, but end up losing balance yourself. you almost fall back when mingi comes down in an instant and catches you before you hit your head on the fridge as crew still plays in the background. you’re in this position for what feels like forever, but what hurts more is the fact that mingi has never looked at you like this for more than 3 seconds. you’ve been nothing but an acquaintance to him, maybe even a vision. barely a friend until tonight. from the constant bickering in your friend group, to the multiple plans that both of you have flaked on for being “busy,” many of your friends thought you guys genuinely hated each other. truth is, it’s just that you’ve never had these moments like these with him. the feeling of him getting comfortable with you made you uneasy, but to him, it doesn’t feel foreign.  but you thought, hey, seize the moment before the moment seizes you. and everything after that happens in a blur. you grab his wrist to pull him closer and immediately crash into him, eyes already closed. it doesn’t feel foreign at all. it’s almost as if this has already happened in a past life, a deja vu with the same feelings. mingi doesn’t believe what’s happening. the girl he’s always thought of as one of the boys is kissing him right now as if nothing else mattered. and it wasn’t just a normal kiss. it felt like the climax of a kdrama, when the main lead couple finally confesses to one another. a person in the couple is shocked and keeps their eyes open as the kiss unravels, until they finally melt. but mingi didn’t fall so easily. his eyes were indeed open, but the way your hand effortlessly grabbed and fit into his, and the way that everything that just happened in the past 5 minutes seems rehearsed is insane. you’re insane. you know that this doing this would immediately fuck up any kind of friendship or relationship you guys had going on, but you knew that this was the only way to have mingi remember you that summer once and for all.  you pull away from the kiss and can barely look him in the eye. he’s looking at you even deeper now, almost as if they’re screaming at you “what the hell just happened.” you brush off his wrist and remind yourself where you’re supposed to be going. fuck, it was probably already midnight.  “i.. i. i’m going now,” you shape your left hand like the figure of a prospector’s hand pointing towards a river full of gold.  “u-uh. yeah.” “going.” you put on your sneakers and throw around your keys, feeling more conscious than ever now. “b-bye,” you wave and bow to mingi besides the fact that him and you only have a small age difference. “yyeah. bye.” he waves with no emotion. and the first thing mingi does when you close the front door is touch his lips with his fingers to feel that same weird, burning feeling. and though he doesn’t put his hands up against his chest, he can hear his heartbeat beating so loudly and fast in his ears. and the first world that he can spew is: “fuck.” — “you’re off.” “off? who’s off?” mingi smiles at his childhood friend, hongjoong. out of the entire friend group, hongjoong had been the one who had matured greatly and could easily tell whenever his hyungs didn’t feel like themselves. their crazy group has been through a lot, and hongjoong knows he’s spent his high school days well. “i don’t know man, who do YOU think?” he stuffs a french fry in his mouth as mingi, hongjoong, yunho, and wooyoung huddle around a carls jr. table after a summer class lecture. yunho, being the scholar he is, recommended all of his friends to take the early summer classes since they had more space and it generally felt better. but everyone knew he used that as an excuse to sleep in for the rest of the day until he would get wasted at mingi’s house again. “you’re not saying much,” wooyoung shakes his head. “yeah... cause i’m hungry, i don’t know. today’s lecture was boring,” you try to change the topic. “this is the first lecture this summer that you didn’t manage to fall asleep in the first five minutes of. something on your mind, man?” yunho noticed. “no. you guys are so dramatic!” “and this is how he changes the subject. go ahead mingi, tell them you’re having another party tonight for pete’s sake,” hongjoong remarks. “i’m not having a party tonight.” “WHAT?” all the guys go googly-eyed towards mingi. “wh.. why? my dad is coming home tonight,” mingi insists. “you said BOTH your parents were gonna be out all week. yeah, something’s definitely up,” wooyoung immediately directs his attention to his phone to look up nearby cafes because he couldn’t stand eating this cheap fast food anymore. “you stopped texting me at like 1. AND you were drunk, so how did you knock out so easily? you weren’t even on league...” yunho tries to recall all the little details he knew from last night. “i don’t know. it’s kinda foggy but after the party, i remember drinking a little more and then knocking out on my bed.” “that’s... that’s never happened. ever,” wooyoung almost laughs at the statement. silence fills up space on the fast food joint’s table until hongjoong looks up from his phone after scrolling a good amount on instagram. “oh shit. did you...?” “did i...?” yunho catches onto what hongjoong is suggesting immediately. “bro. y/n.” “well like, no. kinda yes but no.” mingi sighs and knows he’s gonna immediately get grilled for this. he doesn’t worry too much, though, he knows that you have probably told at least 5 of your close friends at this point. “when we were cleaning because of that bet, i accidentally tripped, she caught me, and we kissed,” mingi said it so effortlessly, the fact that he said it with no worry in his tone scared the guys even more. “DUDE!!!!!!” chaos amongst almost-grown men in a fast food joint after your third lecture of the month feels unsettling. it feels like he’s in a mirage. ”what the hell are you gonna do now? er i don’t know, maybe cause you have someone named yerin on your dick right now?” yunho’s eyes dilated at the way he said yerin. if yerin ever knew... “apologize or something. we were both drunk, so we just gotta acknowledge that whatever happened in the past is already over.” and you’ve had your fair share of meltdowns. this time around, you haven’t left the house since the party and you still haven’t told your closest friends. and so what? you were busy with summer classes and you didn’t feel the need to hang out or text them. you distracted yourself as much as you could at home, and every time you would have go on campus, you ignored him. you knew damn well that he was there living his best life acting like the kiss probably never happened. because of her. because of the stunning, mysterious yerin.  yerin, in short, could probably be the love of mingi’s life. when you first barely befriended him, you only heard and saw bits and pieces of conversation of how much he loved her and how she didn’t reciprocate that love back. and that’s got you thinking. would mingi ever tell yerin about this? it seemed like they “like” each other, but you couldn’t imagine all the tea she would be able to stir up if she ever found out mingi kissed you when first of all, she wasn’t even officially dating mingi. mingi would always hold her hand and look at her like a little puppy, but it was almost as if she was slightly embarrassed by him. you’ve seen the pictures and videos they’ve had together, but it seems like there always had to be a friend there too. it had never been just the two of them.  the most unsettling part of their so-called relationship is that every time a dance would come around, yerin had to confirm that they were going out as friends. even when mingi kissed her multiple times when asking her out to prom. confusing, isn’t it? so you’ve been doing well by dwelling at home and attempting to distract yourself in all ways possible and going out with family more. until he texts you. mingi: hey mingi: you free rn? we should talk y/n: uh why mingi: typing... mingi: wdym why mingi: you good mingi: i haven’t seen you at class for a while y/n: yeah y/n: mingi just get straight to the point and don’t waste my time “yikes, she’s fierce. this the same y/n who was the big nerd in first year?” yunho sat next to mingi as he sent these texts as he was the one who convinced him to send them. mingi: have you told anyone about ... y/n: no y/n: i’m being fr mingi cringed before he could finish his thought. “dude, why do i have to say this!” mingi groans as his head falls back on his sofa. “because your ass won’t stop thinking about it. so it’s better if she just lets go of everything right now, and it’ll be good on both of your sides. don’t you have a date with yerin tonight?” yunho asks. “no, she cancelled. she keeps cancelling but she still nods and says hi to me on campus,” mingi wonders. mingi: why did you mingi: er do it y/n: typing... y/n: cause i was drunk headass y/n: i have pretty vague memory past that party but i do remember having to stay longer at your house y/n: i knocked out p badly.. i think i slept in my clothes you held your knees so tightly in bed and bit your fingernails after making up that lame excuse. you were completely sober when that happened, so you’re just gonna act like you knew nothing. y/n: we didn’t...? mingi: oh god nonono “DUDE WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING IT!” yunho groans louder. “because she genuinely doesn’t remember! if she doesn’t remember, it never happened,” mingi justifies his awkward texting. “or maybe, she’s just saying that because she doesn’t wanna get into the talk about yerin. or worse, get this. her feelings for you.” mingi is on the verge of screaming and losing his mind. “since when has she liked me, jesus christ!” “ooo...........” yunho whistles and turns his eyes into the other direction. it was his way of showing through actions to mingi “you absolute complete moron.” mingi: so you good then?  mingi: you’re not sick or anything from my party right? y/n: nope y/n: nice talk mingi: uh yeah mingi: nice and that was the last message. “god, that was so exhausting,” you fall back onto your bed before you can scream even louder into your pillow. “dude, you’re fucked,” yunho smirks. “but hey, no date tonight? looks like we’re going to wooyoung’s pad tonight.” he stands up and pulls mingi up from the sofa. “wooyoung? what, are we watching movies tonight?” “no, party tonight. have you completely lost your sense of time?”  “oh,” mingi voluntarily nods. he kind of forgot wooyoung still held parties during the summer, but he was more focused at the fact that it’s almost been a week since the kiss. and going to this party became one of the worst decisions if not his life, then this summer. “truth or dare, mingi!” hongjoong, slightly tipsy, shouts amongst the crowd in the outside pool area. “aight, truth,” he raises his cup towards hongjoong. “do you think yerin really fucks with you in that kind of way?” hongjoong laughs and his friends around him echo that same laugh. mingi knows hongjoong wouldn’t pull those type of questions in front of his friends, but it geniunely made him think a little bit.  yerin cancelled almost every date this summer, and many of them are without excuses. mingi, being the gentleman he is, lets her and doesn’t ask why. but now, it’s reaching july, and the last time mingi talked to her one-on-one was at an awkward encounter at hongjoong’s place with all of her girl friends.  “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t she?” mingi shrugs and smiles with the side of his mouth.  and that question lingered until later that night. mingi has been childhood friends with wooyoung. though they weren’t the closest of the bunch, their families were friends and they always ended up going on vacations together. it wasn’t until high school when wooyoung finally moved to mingi’s school and he immediately fit into his friend group as if he was the missing puzzle piece. he was sure the crowd-pleaser, but mingi knew he was an ambivert, and enjoyed a lot of his time alone, reading a book too. maybe that was why mingi thought he was so eccentric back when they were kids.  mingi was exhausted, but it was merely eleven. maybe thursday wasn’t his best party day? mingi: yo woo i’m coming up to your room mingi: i’m gonna play smash on your switch ok he ran upstairs and made a beeline to wooyoung’s room, clearly identified with a poster of the smiths taped up on the front of the white door. he rattled the doorknob and realized it was locked. “silly wooyoung,” mingi knew the trick since they were little. he shook the knob three times and then turned the knob counterclockwise completely until he heard some sort of cracking noise. what he didn’t expect to hear was a moan coming from inside the room. and he doesn’t wanna believe what he sees when he opens the door. “m-mingi.” wooyoung looks up from the bed with disgruntled hair.  and there lays yerin, literally fucking him on the bed mingi and wooyoung grew up on. “what the fuck.” “it’s not what it looks like.” “yeah, i’m pretty damn sure it’s not what it looks like when both of you look like you’ve been fucking each other for the past hour.” yerin and wooyoung look at each other after realizing that he’s right.  “min-“ wooyoung calls him louder this time. “fuck off.” mingi storms out of the house and goes out the back way so no one can see him leave. he’s always gone this way when he and wooyoung would go on late night skating trips back in middle school, but never in his life would he expect yerin and him together in that situation. angrily, he holds his driving wheel even harder with his fists hardening with each turn. before he gets home, he decides to drive around town, maybe grab a cup of boba before he heads home. anything to distract himself. he heads to the asian strip mall a couple miles away from his neighborhood and parks upfront to the boba shop. and there, he sees you. he doesn’t know whether or not he should be surprised, but it was extremely late and he wanted to ask why you were working this late during the summer. you notice him. and you notice how much longer his face had become since the last time you saw him. something must have happened. you knew that he didn’t even like boba that much! why was he here? “oh, hi mingi,” you gather the last ounce of respect you have for him and wave to him as if everything’s splendid. “hey y/n. could i just, uh, get a wintermelon milk tea. with boba.” “y-yeah. what’s good man? you never come here,” you refuse to make eye contact with him.  “yeah uh. rough night. why do you work here?” “summer job. late-night shifts pay more so i thought, hey, why not?” you smile. he hated the fact that you smiled like nothing was wrong all the time. except all the times you’ve smiled like that, there was always something wrong.  “can... c-can we talk? are you free?” mingi hands you his money. “oh! uh.. yeah, we can. i can’t take breaks during night shifts but whatever. there’s like 2 dudes in the back, we’ll be fine,” you grin. he never noticed how free-spirited you were until now, and it kinda makes sense from the way that you hated parties but you would much rather be down for cliff diving or late night drives to the city. “so uh, what’s good?” you try to make the atmosphere not awkward. especially the fact that you were still in your boba shop uniform and your hair was completely down, a violation if your boss ever caught you. “uh... god how do i even say this.” “no, take your time,” you smile. you were incredibly nervous. there’s no doubt he was gonna talk about the kiss again. why else would he look so down? “i kinda uh. caught wooyoung and yerin fucking in his bedroom during his party tonight.” fuck.  “oh, shit...” “god, this doesn’t even feel right, i feel sick.” “how’d you even end up there?” “i texted wooyoung that i was gonna go play smash in his room during the party.” “and instead, you ending up seeing him literally smashing your girlfriend.” “oh my god, if you put it that way,” mingi wanted to scream. you were laughing so hard and he was wondering how you could take situations like these so not seriously.  “yeah uh... i don’t even know what to say about this. my childhood friend and the girl i was in love with... literally hooking up.” “was?” “i hate to say this, but i think i’m falling out of love with yerin.” “that’s crazy. it can’t just be because of this,” and you’re hoping he still forgot the kiss. “yeah, you’re right. she’s been canceling every date, literally acting all embarrassed whenever i come hang out with her and her friends, and she just doesn’t feel the same.” “as in?” you hope that they hadn’t hooked up before. you knew mingi had strict parents from whenever you came over and did projects with him, and it probably took his parents a while to adjust to the fact that he was dating her in the first place. “i think i was just so over my head back then and i kept thinking that she was the one even though she didn’t do anything to me. hasn’t mina already told you this?” he seemed slightly annoyed that he has to say this to you, but you were more. “mina doesn’t have to tell me everything. i can get to know a person however way i want them to. but i guess we’re doing this in a boba shop,” you laugh it off. mingi liked that about you. you didn’t need anyone to tell you what to do and you gave zero fucks. “hey, come with me,” you guide your hands to the fire exit. “what?” “don’t ask. just come.“ you ran through the fire exit door (which surprisingly didn’t beep this time) and ran up the stairs, causing mingi to run up against you at the same pace.  “and welcome to my secret haven.” it was the roof of the three-story strip mall and you could nearly see the entire city from here.  “god whatever, i’m over this,” you take off your brown visor and apron with the boba shop’s logos on it and threw it into the direction of your backpack, which was already up on the roof. he somehow found it 10 times more attractive when you fixed your hair and laughed over your stupid boba shop uniform.  “i go up here almost every night when i get breaks to myself, and i don’t really talk to myself, but no one can hear you up here. so i SHOUT LIKE THIS!” mingi’s startled and you laugh even harder. “WHY LIKE THIS?” “BECAUSE I CAN TELL PEOPLE TO FUCK OFF AND THEY WON’T KNOW!” then mingi starts cracking up and you see that classic eye smile. if only he knew how hard your heart was beating. she was living her kdrama cliche right now. the dude that she’s given up on is suddenly giving interest to her and it feels so out of place. “whenever i got fed up at home with my parents, i would go to work then come up here. i would just scream these long strings of curse words until i got exhausted.” “it’s really pretty up here though,” he looks around the entire rooftop, then back to you.  “yeah... a lot of my emotions were just spilled out here and i’m glad they did.” “what about the night i kissed you?” and there it was. “the night i- what?” “don’t lie to me, y/n. i know you weren’t drunk.” mingi didn’t look at you. it was silent for a moment. “i lied because i was so fed up over the fact that i probably made you so uncomfortable...” your voice faded into the night air.  “why?” “because you were literally dating the love of your life, what the hell was i supposed to say to justify an entire kiss?” mingi almost laughs. “can’t wait to hear what yerin has to say about her and wooyoung hooking up. she would fuck anything with a pulse except me.” “listen, i’m sorry if i kind of left you hanging. we don’t even talk much, so it felt so out of place after that.” “we used to. so let’s make that change,” mingi suggested. “dude, if you want her to feel ok after what just happened, treat her well. take her to the mall or something and just make her feel like a good friend. she’s not your good old mina, but she’s done something that i know it would take a long time for her to forget. make her forget,” yunho tells mingi after he counsels him about the kiss. “what?” “we should just... talk more. maybe it wouldn’t have felt so weird and out of place if we actually talked. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable before,” mingi adds on to his long overdue apology. “no.. no it’s fine. don’t apologize,” you wave him off. “so we’re starting fresh? something like that?” “starting fresh.” you reach your hand out to signal him to shake hands with you, and he gives you a big, genuine smile. — two weeks later “oh my god, you’re joking.” “i’m not, look at this order!” a postmates order pops up on the kitchen ipad as you come running in. 20 whole orders of boba that have to be done by 8 pm. “an entire fucking fraternity just pulled up,” mingi laughs. “how are we gonna finish this?” you read over the entire order just to completely sure that there are twenty, two zero, orders of boba. “leave the newbies to do it and we run back up?” mingi smirks. you hate him. “mingi, you’re literally a newbie.” he shrugs and laughs as he rings up his last order of the night, that is, if he doesn’t take care of that fraternity order. “i’m just saying...” mingi opens up one of the cabinets atop the kitchen exit with his backpack and his nintendo switch peeking out of it. you grunt, but you seriously want to leave too.  “hey newbies?” two sophomores in high school turn around from behind the tea jugs.  “do you mind if we take our break for a little bit? it’s been a while. one of you take the cashier and one of you take care of the online orders. is that alright?” “yes miss!” you snicker at the “miss”. “no need for formalities. just call me y/n,” you grin and flip your hair back unintentionally as you take off your uniform visor. so fucking flawless. mingi thought to himself as he stared at you from the door. why were you so good at everything? and why were you so incredibly nice to everyone? except him, of course. it had been a week since mingi had called it off with yerin. it wasn’t really official, it was more like a breakup text that wasn’t really a breakup. it was essentially yunho and hongjoong giving emotional support to mingi as he wrote lame replies to explain to yerin that he wasn’t in love with her. it took a lot of manpower, but the job was done. what job wasn’t done was you working at your part time job at the boba shop. and what you didn’t expect was a day after being exposed by mingi about the kiss, the man himself walking in with a resume in his hand once he was accepted, he wanted to have as many shifts with you as possible even though you hadn’t been working there for long so you weren’t considered a senior. you also wondered why he wanted to have a summer job, out of all things, to spend one of his last summers as a teenager.  “imagine this. huge letters on a newspaper. local asian fuckboy works at boba shop instead of having parties at his parents’ rich place because quote, he’s tired of it,” you sit back on the beach chairs you two set up on the roof a couple weeks ago. “i am! why don’t you believe me?” “you’re not me, mingi. you’re party animal mingi, the cool basketball player every girl looks up to both figuratively and literally because you’re a living tree.” “i mean... so?? it’s nice to have a break since i’m done with my exams and i can get extra money. and free boba, of course,” he still felt kind of flattered after you said every girl looked up to him. it was a stretch. “imagine needing extra money when your parents already have that much money...” you sighed. he threw a piece of popcorn chicken at you. “shh. watch the movie.” you guys decided on “the interview” tonight. every night shift, you guys alternate on choosing movies on netflix to watch on your laptop up on the roof. things have changed for the better or worse. it’s only been a couple of weeks into summer now, and your life has been surrounded by mingi. same goes for mingi. all his parties have been cut down to night shifts with you, shopping for his dog and his own wardrobe with his personal stylist (you), and even driving to summer classes with you. just when you thought you could finally get rid of him, he becomes your honorary annoying best friend. though yunho and hongjoong were rooting him on, they didn’t expect him to be so involved in it. when he forcibly apologized to wooyoung and he did the same, things with yerin were still uncomfortable. to make things easier, mingi announced to everyone that he would never date her ever again. and although wooyoung doesn’t want to lose mingi’s trust, he knows. mingi knows that they’ve been secretly going on dates ever since the apology and not much as changed. so much for a girl and his childhood best friend, huh? mingi meanders over to check his phone and sees that some of his group chats have blown up. “yo, fourth of july is tomorrow. i think wooyoung wants a party,” mingi nudges. “sure. i mean, not at his house. ptsd for you,” and then mingi remembers the situation all over again. “god, yeah. my place then?” “sure. haven’t been there in a while,” you laugh. the shift ends in less than 30 minutes and the two of you have missed nearly the entire shift. you take the back entrance and wave him goodbye as he’s assigned to lock up for the night. you drive back to your house to see your older brother already asleep, the rest of your parents out of the house to visit family up in the city. the lame excuse of “college preparations” was how you escaped a week-long trip upstate to do nothing but babysit your cousins. mina 🤢 is calling... you take a beeline to the almost entirely dark living room and fall on the couch to pick up your friend’s call. mina? Y/N WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ? I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU ALL NIGHT what? girl i- you open up your phone app during the call to see 8 missed calls from the devil herself, mina. oh shiiit. sorry dude, i was at work. work? this late? i thought the shop closed at 10. nope. closes at 12, mingi locked up for me so i’m home a little earlier. well.  mina seemed fazed by you and mingi and more concerned about her “issues.” anyways, i was TRYING to call you because i had a little emergency. you worried a little bit since she had been in quite a serious of a relationship with her boyfriend. oh, what’s wrong? well nothing’s wrong. actually, i know this is something you’ve wanted to do for a while since we’ve made our freshman bucket lists. remember that? you laugh softly into the phone and nod, forgetting that mina can’t see you. anyways, my boyfriend wanted to take me down on the coast highway after the 4th of july party that wooyoung? i think, is holding. you know him right? man, do you. we wanted to watch the sunrise together and bring a couple of friends. mina, that sounds fun. you’re right it’s been on my bucket list for a while. great! oh, not great. right. your ass took 70 years to reply so my boyfriend already left town and his sister doesn’t want to take us. no hard feelings of course, but it’s kinda awkward when this was meant to be a romantic thing and with you of course. oh. mina! why’d you tell me?? i don’t know, maybe we should keep this on a tab. don’t forget about it, and you should definitely have someone to go with next time besides me, if you know what i mean. i don’t, mina. i wanna go with you! these were my teenage plans with you back then. sis, you might wanna check your notes. you got up and turned on the kitchen lights — not the living room lights because they were way too bright and you were planning to knock out on the couch immediately after this call — to open up your notes and read better. you scrolled through the long checklist that had been updated constantly throughout your high school years, to find “drive up the highway and watch the sunrise with my s/o <3” in bright orange text, somewhere embedded in the even longer bucket list.  oh god. how do you even remember me writing this? you’ve been wanting this ever since you’ve been wanting a solid relationship with someone. and when you did have a boyfriend, this never worked out so... mina! sorry sorry! i’m just saying... keep it in mind. mina, i’d still love to take you tomorrow after the party because yes i’m dying to see this sunrise but. you have someone, i don’t. we’ll save this one for next summer, ok? before you can let mina finish, you say goodnight. wait, y/n! you cut her off and turn off your phone.  sweet dreams, you whisper to yourself as you delve deeper into your couch. then the annoying marimba ringtone of your generic iphone rings once again. mina- mingee the frog is calling... mingi? yo, can you take the shop keys for tonight? i feel like i’m gonna misplace this with the party being tomorrow. oh, oh yeah, sure.  you straighten yourself up and (finally) turn on the living room lights. you can come over now, i’ll be at the door.  actually, i’m already in front. WHAT? you run to your front door to see mingi in (not but maybe) your favorite black hoodie and keys in his right hand in front of. no. you unlock the door and jog out in the freezing midnight mist. “SONG MINGI! the ROVER?” “what’d you think, huh? thought it would be good revenge against wooyoung. gotta take her for a ride one of these days before i leave,” he laughs. mingi spins the lanyard of keys in his fist in resemblance to a teenage girl who just got her license and you immediately recognize that he’s only carrying wooyoung’s lanyard and not the lanyard with the shop keys. “where are the shop keys?” you tilt your head.  “gave them to the sophomore who took care of the frat orders. now, the range rover. isn’t she a beaut,” he steps away from the huge car and shows it off like a golden trophy. you facepalm and know that he only brought you out of your house to show you that he had balls to steal from his own (also rich) cousin. “ok and... what about it? it’s cold mingi, go home,” you yawned and waved him off even though you weren’t that tired. you exaggerated because you just wanted to be in the safety and comfort of your own home. “come with me.” “what?” you turned around. “come with me. i’m still super awake because i put like, 4 shots of monster in that last cup of boba i had,” mingi points to the empty boba cup in the white range rover’s cupholders. “mingi, very funny. now drive yourself back to wooyoung’s house before he beats your ass and go to sleep. you have a party to plan tomorrow, don’t you?” “i don’t plan parties, babe, i just let them happen,” your heart skips over the slight pet name mention. you don’t wanna reply and hope your speed walk back to your door will make him go away. “oh and... your bluetooth is still connected to wooyoung’s car from last time he gave you a ride. not sure when.” “oh, sorry. disconnect me, would you? good night, mingi,” you bow and wrap your hands around the silver knob of your door. “i might have heard you and mina talking.” you stop.   “and... i might have heard about you wanting to watch the sunrise. with someone. preferably someone who could drive you up there who isn’t mina or her boyfriend.” you want to smile, but also kind of scared that he heard everything you said to mina. you still don’t look back at mingi. “so here i am. making an excuse to be at your house at 1 am to drive you to the beach until sunrise using wooyoung’s car, in which i’m gonna get killed for anyways.” “mingi, just go home.” your sudden sternness as you look into his eyes comes out of nowhere, maybe out of anger. held back feelings. it comes off as rude. “see you at the party tomorrow,” you finally step into the house with the door unlocked. “i’ll let you listen to my playlists because i know you secretly like them. i’ll let you wear my hoodie. i’ll let you lie down next to me watching the stars because i don’t wanna be anywhere else when i’m near you.” you close the door. “song mingi, is this how you asked out yerin? am i just your emotional fill-in for yerin?” the way you said his full name shocked him. you’ve called him everything for the past month except his full name. but everything he just said about you made your heart race faster than it did in years. the atmosphere was stiff despite the sudden one-sided confession. “i-“ “i’m kidding with you, jesus christ, kid. you should have seen the look on your face. and thank you, i’ll be taking your hoodie, it’s getting cold,” you lock the door behind you and run up to mingi. mingi’s left breathless. y/n is nothing but trouble for him. you run into the shotgun seat and grabs the black screen printed hoodie on the seat. it’s from a j cole concert he went a couple years back and it still smells like good old mingi. you don’t want to say it, but you want to keep it forever. you also don’t wanna say much in general, because mingi may or may have not just confessed to you. “sunrise is at 5 am. you ready?” he jumps into the driver's seat with nothing but a smile on his face as he sees you already in his hoodie. “born ready.” he starts the car and backs up from your driveaway, and puts his arm on the back of your head cushion to see behind him.  “oh-“ and your horny ass thought he was about to pull you in for a kiss because of the vicinity his body was to you. “what?” he turns around, knowing exactly what he just did and smirks at your flustered face.  “nothing. just hope my sister doesn’t kick me out for coming back at home at literally 7 am.” “don’t worry, just sleep over at my house after and say you accidentally knocked out after work,” he shrugs as he leaves your neighborhood and enters the junction into the larger highway towards the city. “i feel like she already heard me coming home...” “so? i’m sure she wouldn’t mind you coming home from a guy as good looking as me,” you wanted to throw up but still had the urge to keep looking at the way he drove the range rover like a master. this was only his second time driving it, but you didn’t need to know. you spent the rest of the half hour drive listening to his night playlists (undoubtedly some of the best songs that you both know and like) and stop by a 7/11 and a couple of gas stations for some snacks and soda to take to the beach. by the time you two reach the coastal highway, it’s almost 3 am (oddly) and the highways are almost completely empty.  when mingi sees you rapping along and holding his hoodie tighter, he wants to say something but he can’t. it’s the wrong timing. he’ll have to wait just a little, but he hopes you still want to return the half-lived confession. “couple more hours. what are we gonna do?” mingi asks over the music.  “i don’t know. talk. walk around the coastline. push you into the water.” “if you do, i’m gonna make sure you do bathroom duty next shift,” mingi threatens with zero intention because he knows he really wouldn’t. the kindness he felt towards you had also occurred out of nowhere and it felt way too foreign. “i’ve never done this before so... enlighten me, lover boy.” “who said i’ve done this? only i would take your lanky ass to the beach at 3 am because, wait-“ he rolls down the windows and turns down the music. “smell the air.” you both take deep breaths in of the cold, salty air and grin. you’re so grateful to be alive right now. mingi turns and stops by the side of the cove to drive down to an empty parking lot. the beach is closed so mingi will manage to park in front of the huge beach mansions on the side of the streets. rich people won’t care about another rich person trying to park in front of their house now, will they? it’s almost 4 and it’s beyond freezing now. as you both exit the rover, mingi grabs his keys but notices you slowly walking out of the car without saying anything. “still cold?” “... uh... just a little bit,” you say slowly, hoping that mingi won’t even be able to comprehend you. he walks to the back of the car and opens the trunk with a button on his keys. there inside the trunk is a stack of blankets, food from the convenience stores, and his backpack. on top of the blanket stack is your favorite blanket that you left on the boba shop roof since it was your favorite. “song mingi. have you been planning this ahead of time?” you laugh at the sight. he rolls his eyes cutely and shrugs while mouthing i dunno.  you walked down the side of the street while still looking at him. he could feel your gaze as you walk down towards the beach, but at this point, both of you were too nervous to say anything. you find a spot mid-way to the coast and the fencing off the cliff of the beach and set down all your stuff. it was nearing 5 am and you noticed the sky getting lighter. you were also extremely exhausted, but you let it pass. as you yawned and put down all the blankets, your first move was to lay down and close your eyes.  “hey don’t sleep yet!” mingi threw a pillow at your head.  “i’m tired as fuck, leave me alone,” you groaned as you pulled his hoodie tighter and turned your body to the side. mingi sat down and made the area around you comfier, then pulled out another blanket to put around himself.  he checked his phone for the time, then looked towards the horizon. “ya... ya! it’s almost sunrise!” you were still facing the other way. “oh my god...” he said in the worst accent possible as he tried pushing you off the blanket. “y/n!” at this point, you knew you were just teasing him. but instead, he pulled your arm closest to him, hoisting you up, but all too fast that your entire body was within 1 cm of his, too close for comfort. “u-uh, i,” you said as his face was a little too close to yours, all while you attempted to look away at the sun that was beginning to rise up the horizon. mingi knew it was now or never. and he wasn’t gonna let you have the chance of initiating it again. “y/n.” you looked back at him dumbfoundedly. he had been staring at you this entire time, right until he pulled the side of your face closer and crashed.  his lips meeting yours wasn’t foreign at all. despite the spontaneity of the last instance, both of you still remembered the taste of it. and both of you secretly wanted it again, so badly.  you were still shocked at how fast he managed to do that, but you regathered your senses and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.  shocked at the movement, mingi pulled away from the kiss and looked at you. “wait wait wait, hold on. do you even..?” your arms still hung around his neck as you gazed at him. “yes. a lot. for a long time. having to act like i didn’t care about you for the longest time was so exhausting. glad we’re on the same page now,” you winked and smiled. “oh my god,” he gazed at you with all the euphoria in his chest. how were you so perfect? and how was he so oblivious to how perfect you were for him this entire time? this time, he couldn’t hold back. he pulled you in even closer by holding your hoodie ties and deepened the kiss from last time. you closed your eyes immediately, and held one of your hands on his neck. his chest was bursting and although he couldn’t feel it, both of your hearts were beating erratically. you still couldn’t believe that the song mingi, the boy who you crushed on from the opposite side of your math class-then-turned somewhat enemies, is the reason for your happiness right now. mingi grabbed your hand and tightened it as he felt the cold within your palm. he pulled away again, but just to look at you and smile. he then turned towards the sunrise that had been going on the entirety of the confession, and the reflection of the warm hues that had been painted on of you. you were so beautiful in this light, and you never wanted this moment to end.  “so...” “so...” “wanna head back to my place and sleep over?” and you knew that that meant an entirely new definition of going back to his place now that you both have basically spilled your feelings to each other. “hmm... maybe.” you wanted to keep him guessing, just for fun. he stood up and picked up his blanket. “alright then, i’m leaving,” he started turning away. “okok, i’m joking, take a joke,” you giggled and stood up. you ran over and tippie toed so that your arms could reach around his neck. you placed a kiss on his cheek and smiled even more brightly than before. he smiled back. he was so lucky to have you, and you wanted to know every single part of him as you fall deeper and deeper into him.

—

a/n: hi ! my name’s chae and this is my first writing published on tumblr. because this is my first work, please excuse any grammatical mistakes and writing errors!! ive been reading fics and au’s for a while on tumblr for a number of kpop groups, but i hope that i can debut some of my blurbs on here in the future.

please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, it’s gonna help me a lot in the long run : ,,)

also my requests are open!! i don’t have any restrictions on what prompts/pairings/groups are allowed right now, but i mainly write reader x, and my ult groups are ateez, skz, and x1/produce male trainees (see header).

[wellhalesbells]

as i no longer sleep (apparently), let’s do this awesome thing @yodas-yo-yo tagged me on!!  thank you!!

Rules: Tag 9 people who you want to know better/catch up with and then answer these questions.

3 SHIPS

i’m going with not necessarily my all-time favorite ships but the ones i’ve been reading like crazy lately

stiles and derek, as i’m sure we’re all well aware.  those’re my boys.  the dynamic they have just cannot be beat; it’s all shades of gray and built rather than plopped down without foundation.  derek, who has been betrayed and abandoned and is neglected at every turn by every other character in this universe, and stiles, who - importantly - doesn’t have pity for him but pragmatism: ‘you’re a useful dude, and so i am going to use you regardless of how everyone else would just like to write you off.’  it’s not an immediate, ‘ah, you’re perfect for each other,’ moment, it’s kind of a, ‘shit, dude, that is not a guy you should use because he’s suffered that too many times already and this is bad.’  but only through that does it become less about using derek and more about relying on each other, trusting each other’s judgments, and being the first call rather than the last.  i’m so emotionally tied to it because it’s freaking earned and no one is... pure.  stiles’ motives aren’t pure, derek’s actions aren’t pure, no one is a one-dimensional hero who can abide by a concept as infantile as good vs evil, they’re more real because of it and i’m more attached to them because of it.

okay, weirdly, lately..... clark and lex (and after i was just talking about one-dimensional good vs evil characters, lol), preferably with the smallville backstory of once being besties.  it’s just like the best of the best when it comes to tropes that do it for me.  they’re baked in and, unless it’s an au, unavoidable.  epic pining, best friends turned enemies turned lovers (or some variation thereof), a betrayed character (love when that’s lex and it’s post-belle reve), a morally gray manipulative genius who if they are depicted as not having ulterior motives is considered WILDLY out of character, a fucking canonical son made from both their dna, parallel universes in canon, not to mention there’s sex pollen in canon as well with red kryptonite in the mix.  (there’s nothing better than fics where clark is dosed so he’ll finally kill lex luthor only to fuck him practically down to his soul instead.)  i never even finished smallville and while i was always a fan of the ship, it was sort of more of a ‘ships in the night’ kind of ship, like: oh yeah, i know you *waves as you cross my dash* and nothing more.  then i read (and read and re-read and read some more) reconcilable differences and.... there is not enough fic for them out there, friends.  there just isn’t, and i’m sad.

merlin and arthur from bbc merlin.  again, i really like what’s often baked into this pairing: a scenario that comes up with some regularity is a betrayed or banished!merlin and arthur realizing too late what merlin means to him and having to go after him and prove himself.  i live for that shit, okay?  i live for the character who seemingly has everything realizing they have nothing without this other person (especially if said person is often mistreated or sidelined in canon - thank you, fix-it fanon!!!!).  i never was big into merlin fanfic UNTIL ao3 came up with the ‘exclude’ part of the search function.  i don’t want modern merlin pretty much ever and somehow that fandom is about 50% modern aus????  so i never read fic for it because it was so hard to find what i was looking for.  literally the day i saw the exclude option, i started reading merthur fanfic.  i wish there were more percival/merlin fics (i am SO FUCKING INTO size difference lately and i do noooot have a pair that i LOVE that has that, some that i casually read like jaskier/geralt but none that i can’t live without yet and i NEED IT), especially ones featuring a jealous arthur that endgames into merthur but that’s, er, a bit specific?  haha, and i have less than zero desire to write for either this fandom or the one above it sadly.

LAST SONG I LISTENED TO

clairo - sofia, i love how hard my radio station is fangirling over clairo, she has such a nostalgia-inducing sound for me.

CURRENTLY WATCHING

okay, well, i actually just finished the shows i was watching: prodigal son, which was like a less avant garde, less horny, less gay, less people-eating version of hannibal.  instead of a guy who was too unstable to qualify to be an actual fbi agent and who has a loose relationship with reality and mental health, and maybe also a darker side, and a cannibal who definitely does, both of whom badly want to bang each other, it’s a serial killer father who has a darker side and a guy who was fired from the fbi for being too unstable, who maybe has one of his own, in addition to a loose relationship with reality and mental health.  i mostly enjoyed it.  i really liked the actors, the morbid and understated humor was hilarious (seriously, some of those one liners, both the delivery by the actors and the offhandedness inherent to them were just perfection), but.... they fridged the love interest (very VERY predictably) and they’re clearly shoving together the only unattached (”normal”) vagina and penis on the show because HETERONORMATIVITY!!!!!  (i expect more of you, greg berlanti, tsk.)  i’m hoping for more edrisa in the future because she is a fucking GEM (and it’s just SO NICE to see lane on my screen again!!!!), more jessica who might have the best sense of self and humor in the whole dang show, more michael sheen (because i just love the man in anything and everything), and about that finale (even though i saw it coming WELL in advance) i’ll just say: AINSLEY, MY GIRLLLLLLLL!!!!

the other i finished was the crown, season four.  this show never really wows me tbh.  i watch it mostly for a) the performances and b) my mom and dad, who love it immensely and love to talk about it with me.  if not for them i could easily zone out for an entire episode without even realizing it, with all the quietness and sweeping landscape shots, there’s just nothing grabby in there for me.  it’s very uppercrust british, y’know?  haha.  where a comment about your lilac drapes is really a dig about how you’re bringing down the entire commonwealth, which i love to read but watching?  it doesn’t really pull me in.  the high point of this season for me was gillian anderson’s portrayal of margaret thatcher, just the way she would contort her face was amazing to me, and the episode with fagan because hey, i totally knew about that already (which never happens, lol) and i love that actor from preacher and it was just really well-written and acted.  but, overall, pretty much i spent the whole season wanting a violent and bloody and embarrassing death to befall charles, that entitled and cruel little piss-ant, while knowing it wasn’t going to happen.  it’s one of those shows i watch where i’m glad i watched it, but i won’t remember any details about it in a week’s time.

and as for what i soon will be currently watching: i’m starting the great tomorrow!

okay, tagging: @livthelion, @ohlookagaydraco, @grimmypuff, @clotpolesonly, @midnightisquiet, @urban-barbarian, @callunavulgari, @hrast-ika and @i-sveikata!!

[venomous--fics]

Anon Requested: I have an angsty request for peter Parker maybe? He’s overwhelmed with school and stuff and the reader just wants to help him out and he snaps at her and tells her to give him space- and the reader gives him TOO MUCH space- I dunno if that makes sense but whatever-

a/n: the sniper got 'em. In all seriousness, here is your request and I'm sorry it took so long! Things have been weird lately. And I hope you don't mind the little twist I added. I also hope this isn’t hot garbage.

warning: swearing, sad peter, minor fighting

You weren't sure how your evening had gotten to this point. You had gone over to may's apartment, which was pretty much routine at this point, to help Peter study. He's somehow fallen a tad bit behind in his classes, what with the blip and Stark's passing, needless to say, peter was a little overwhelmed. 

everything started off fine, but when you had asked Peter- nicely, you wanted to add- to take a dinner break, somehow it started a fight. You were grateful that May had gone out for a bit, she said she forgot something that was needed for dinner. You thought you and Peter could relax and cook together, but instead you two were yelling at each other.

Not really yelling, more like...Aggressively debating. You were practically begging Peter to just take a small break, and that he was over working himself.  And Peter kept repeating himself that you just didn't understand, or that you couldn't understand. 

You didn't want to argue with him anymore. You just wanted to sit and take a breath, but it seems that Peter had gotten too wound up about it. About everything, really.  His brain was going at 100 mph and he couldn't seem to make it stop. Everything was too much. 

"What do you need me to do?" you had asked calmly once you had cooled your nerves.

"I need you to give me space!" you had snapped unintentionally. 

You were a little surprised by his tone. He'd never spoken to you like that before. You watched as he stormed to his door and slammed the door. 

"Fine," you said to yourself as you gathered your things, "Whatever. I'll give you space."

You left the apartment without so much as a goodbye. 

Peter had taken a good chunk of time to catch his breath and calm himself. Every bit of anxiety was now replaced with guilt as he recalled how he treated you earlier. He slowly crept out of his room, almost like a scared puppy, and looked around for you.

"Peter?" he heard his aunt from the dimly lit kitchen area.

He hesitated for a moment before walking out to greet her, "Y-yeah?"

"Thought I heard you." she smiled softly as she set out a plate of food for him. He slowly sat down, feeling like he was somewhere he shouldn't be. It was too quiet, even for it being just them. He looked at the plate, "Uh, where's Y/n?" "Oh, I saw her on my way up. She said you were really tired, so she decided to head home." May smiled at him again, "You must've been zonked."

"Yeah.." he replied slowly.

You had gotten home, and your parents had just finished dinner. Your mother invited you to join them, and you didn't want to be rude, so you sat. It felt a little awkward because your mom asked, "How's May and Peter doing?"

"Fine, I guess." you replied. 

That answer was apparently good enough, because the subject quickly changed. You finished your dinner a bit faster than normal, and then excused yourself to your room for the evening. You had gotten into your pjs and climbed into bed, turning off your lights and putting your phone on silent. 

You ignored the 2 missed calls and 3 text messages from Peter.

School the next morning was very awkward. You normally walked in with Peter, and sometimes Ned accompanied you two, but today, it was just you. It felt lonely, but Peter said he wanted space, so you'd give him that.

You could hear him jogging up as you dug through your locker. You sighed with exasperation, even if you didn't mean it. You stared at the back of your locker as you latched onto your notebook.

"Y/n! Y/n, I'm sorry about last night.." he looked at you, and from the corner of your eyes you could tell he was really tired, "I didn't mean it..I really, really didn't."

You pulled your notebook out and held it to your chest, using your elbow to slam your locker shut. You stared at Peter for a second before turning on your heel and going to class. He followed you, again like a puppy, "I don't understand...Why- You don't wanna talk to me now?"

"I thought you wanted space," you said in an annoyed huff.

You took your seat at the back of the class and dropped your books onto your desk. Peter, being defeated, took his seat at the front of class. He tapped his pencil on his book and kept looking back at you. You weren't paying one ounce of attention to him. 

The rest of the school day played out like some cliche tv show episode. You'd do everything in your power to actively avoid Peter, even if it hurt. You wanted to help him, but deep down, you figured he probably didn't want your help. 

He's been different since the blip. Everyone was, but Peter was the worst. He was so broken up about everything. He stopped talking to you about how he felt, or even how his day went. You should've taken the hint earlier that maybe he just didn't want to be with you anymore. 

All he wanted to do was just be at home. It didn't seem to matter to him if you were there or not. Maybe if you did have to actually talk to him, you'd just let him down easy. If he doesn't trust you to help him now, he'll probably never trust you. You had gone into autopilot mode as you gathered your book bag and homework from your locker. Your eyes were scanning every face you passed. "So, like, are you single?" 

You jumped at the sudden question before you noticed that you'd almost run right into Flash. "Uh..."

"I heard rumors that you two broke up."

"Who- Wha- Why are people talking about that?"

"But did you? Because if you did," He tried to be smooth, "You wanna go for a cruise in my new car?"

"Not..." You spotted Peter down the hall, and instead of being petty or angry, you somehow felt kinda bad, "Sounds great, but I can't."

"Why not?"

The final bell for the day rang, and nearly every student had made a B-line for the door. You were one of them. You felt like you were the one who needed space now. You were feeling too many things. Were you really mad at Peter? Maybe he used the wrong tone, but he hadn't meant to hurt you. "He wants space," you repeated to yourself. 

"I didn't mean that.."

You twirled around and Peter was right behind you. 

"Well, you said it, so obviously, you meant it." you replied, "You said you wanted space."

"I didn't-"

"If you felt suffocated, why couldn't you just tell me that?" you asked, a little louder than you meant to, "You know I would've helped you."

"I just have a lot going on.." It sounded childish to say, it almost sounded like a crutch, "Not that that makes it okay- I just- Y/n-"

You noticed Flash and his group of friends watching. You didn't want to make things worse for Peter, "I have to go."

"Y/n." Peter persisted, catching up and walking by your side. 

You adjusted the bag on your back, "I can take a hint, Parker."

You'd never used his last name. Peter stopped in his tracks for a moment, you stopped a few steps in front of him, "I understand that you're always busy...And I know that your idol dying must've sucked- Like, y'know, you probably read it in every paper or website- But," you sighed, "You know I was here if you needed to talk about it..Instead you kept shutting me out. I ignored it because I knew that that internship meant a lot to you..I understood that.."

Peter could tell that you were thinking about something. He could always tell because your would always look so perplexed about it until you would finally say it. 

"I didn't want to think that you were intentionally giving me the cold shoulder." you took in a deep breath, "But last night? I guess I got the final hint. I'll just leave you alone, but next time, you should just say it."

It must've been obvious that that really hurt to say. Peter didn't like where this was going. You turned away when he reached out for you, "I have to go, Peter." Peter stood still as you made you way home. He didn't move a muscle until you were out of sight. He needed to fix this, and quickly. 

Despite the urgency of the situation, Peter wasn't sure how to actually fix it. Saying sorry wasn't good enough.. He was certain just taking you out to dinner or whatever wasn't good enough. It wasn't until three days later- Three days of being completely ignored by you, though he caught you looking a few times- That he realized that maybe he should've just been a thousand percent honest with you from the start.

He had gotten the Stark internship about four months into you two going out. He realizes now that that took a toll. He was busy nearly every day after school with Tony, and when he wasn't with Tony he was trying to stay on top of school. He watched you walk home alone again, and that's when he hatched what he thought was his brilliant idea. 

It was nearing 7:30pm and you finally decided to text Peter.

Hey, can we talk? 

Two minutes pass.

It's not bad, I swear. I just wanted to apologize.. 

Ten minutes pass.

Peter? Are you there? You okay?

Normally he responds asap, kinda weird that he's not answering. Maybe he's just in the shower. Maybe he's ignoring you now. It was only fair, right?

You sit down on the edge of your bed, on the verge of tears, when you heard a knock on your window. You almost jumped out of your skin as you stood back up. You faced your window and saw a familiar stranger perched on your fire escape railing. 

"Spider-Man?" you asked quietly as you rushed to your window and pulled it open. You leaned your head out of the window, "What are you doing here?" He was quiet for a moment as he awkwardly climbed off the railing. He rubbed his neck and then the back of his head, "Uh, Hi- C-can I come in?" That voice. You'd heard it somewhere.

You backed up, "Uuh, Sure. Yeah, come right in. Why are you here?"

You watched as the fearless hero tripped over the window sill and nearly face planted into the floor. He quickly pulled himself up and dusted himself up, looking around, "Oh, you know. Reasons."

"Do I know you?" you got to the point, "I swear I've heard your-"

Spider-man looked at you as you connected the dots. You covered your mouth, "Peter?"

"Oh- Oh no, oh geez." He looked around, "This isn't going how I- Well- Listen- I-" "Oh my god." you felt like you were going to faint, "Oh my god! It makes sense now- Oh god, I'm such a dick!"

"N-no!" Peter finally pulled the mask off, revealing his messy hair, "It's not your fault. I mean, I shouldn't be telling you- Danger and all that- But I..."

You lowered your hands and just looked at him. You were in complete awe. How could you not have figured it out?

"I-.." Peter sighed as he walked over to your bed and sat down, making himself comfy, "I'm sorry, like, about everything. I wasn't meaning to be distant, or an ass- I.. I just.."

You slowly sat next to him, not even looking at the suit anymore, just his face. Despite what he wanted you to see and understand, you just saw Peter. 

"I was there when we lost five years ago.. I lost you, I lost May- But I was stuck in space. I kinda, just died not knowing if you were okay..Then," he cleared his throat, and you could see the tears, "I got back, and then Tony..d-He- ...Died. Then everyone kept asking what was next."

You weren't sure what to do, so you grabbed one of your blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders, "I'm sorry."

"People kept asking if I was ever going to replace Tony- If I was ever going to be Tony..And then I just..Gave up on my schoolwork, that's why I was behind.." 

Peter looked at you for a split second and then looked at the floor, "Then we started falling apart, and-" He tried to wipe his tears, but he just broke down.

Out of habit, like all the times that his anxiety got the best of him, you did all you could. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, finally letting your own tears slip out.

"I'm so stupid," he said, "I shouldn't have come here. I just," his voice cracked, "I just didn't want to be alone."

"You're not stupid," you reassured him, "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"It wasn't fair to you-"

"But I get it now. I'm not mad about it." You said softly, "Look."

You gently cupped his face and turned it so he'd look at you. You smiled at him, "We'll take it one step at a time- But listen.."

He sniffed, "Okay."

"You don't have to be anybody else." you were being sincere, "You are who you choose to be- And right now, that's Peter Parker. And that's good enough."

He looked at you for a moment, eyes glistening as the last few tears rolled down his face. You noticed that a few new one popped up, and you careful moved your hands, "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry-"

Peter wiped his face, "You quoted Iron Giant- I started thinking about how the robot-" He started crying again, "Sorry."

"I was quoting that, wasn't I.." you chuckled a little, "But, I still meant it." Peter sniffled a little more.

"If you want to be an Avenger, or hell, even the mayor, I'll be right behind you. Okay?" 

Trying to lighten the mood, Peter asked, "What if I want to be a hotdog vendor?"

"Well," you wanted to object, but you sighed happily, "If that's what would make you happiest."

"Are we good?" he looked at you with red, tired eyes.

"Yes, we're good- Just- Can we promise to talk about how we feel next time?" You pulled Peter into a tight hug.

"Yeah," he replied, hugging back, "We can."

There was a peaceful silence for a moment. Peter let out a happy sigh, "I love you."

You pulled back, in shock. Neither of you had ever said that, mostly due to being nervous, "What."

Peter realized what he said and gently moved away from you, face bright red, "I'm sorry- I mean, not sorry- I mean, I have to go now." 

He got up and was about to put his mask back on when you grabbed his wrist, catching his attention. 

"I love you too."

He smiled at you, leaning over and giving you soft kiss. You smiled at him as he clumsily climbed out your window and put his mask on. You stuck your head out the window, "Hey, Spider-guy."

Peter looked at you, "Yes, ma'am?"

"You're pretty great."

"And you're just pretty."

"Nice one." you snickered, "Tell me when you get home. No swinging and texting."

"I will." he was about to shoot a web when he looked back at you, "Night, Y/n." "Night, P- Spider-Man."

You watched as he swung off into the city. Much like he did to you, you waited for him to be out of sight before you shut your window and closed your blinds for the night. You turned your lights off and crawled into bed. About fifteen minutes later your phone buzzed. You were expecting a 'got home safe' or 'home,' but you got something entirely different.

Hey, I was thinking about it.. Why wasn't there an Iron Giant 2? First one ended on a good cliff hanger, but, that's still a cliff hanger. That's not very fair. 

I see you got home safely <3

Oh, right. 

You could see him typing.

I'm home. <3

I can tell, and to answer your question. I think the first movie bombed at the box office or something.

But it's a good movie?

Things were weird in the 90s.

You two wound up talking for another hour before Peter suggested that you two should probably go to bed. You fell asleep certain that Peter and you would talk more about everything tomorrow, but for right now, things were just fine.

[blackmaylovesfries]

"My instinct is to hug" - Meeting him

Asked: No

Words: 1079

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - Choi Seungcheol is an Brown bear hybrid that wants to take care of someone. So imagine how happy he was when he found the hurt girl.

Notices: guns (not fired) and mention to violence (not consummated). Also, the POV changes a lot.

URGENT - BIRTHDAY POLL

Masterpost

Previous / Next

Seungcheol wasn’t a civilized hybrid. Actually, after he was able to escape the circus he was born in, he lived almost 16 years in the middle of a forest. S.Coups, like people used to call him in the circus, hasn’t found anyone besides completely animals all this years.

He loved people, he loved crowds but he couldn’t handle the abuse so he didn’t know if he could go back to live among humans and hybrids. He also didn’t have social skills anymore. That scared him even more than isolation. So, yeah, the dream of going back to civilization was a distant one.

The day that changed started normal for him. Seungcheol woke up, made sure his fire wasn’t lit and got out of the cave. He went and found food, ate, and went on his matinal walk. The bear hybrid was avoided by the small animals and most of the big ones stayed out of his domain too, what made his life there a quiet peaceful one.

Everyday was the same, so imagine his surprise when he caught a different smell on his territory, one that he never scented before. And it was blood smell, that one he knew quite well.

But it came with something sweet beneath it even if it was mostly blood indeed. Seungcheol ran in it’s direction before it could attract more predators. He followed the scent to a river, where was a small body lying and the water near it was turning red.

Seungcheol’s instinct at that moment wasn’t one of a predator but one of worry. Something about that body made him want to take care of whomever them were and, when he turned the body around to see their face, he discovered why.

---

Your whole body hurted. When your consciousness came back, you wished it would go away again. You could feel every member so that’s good but your arm and ribs had something on them that made it impossible for you to move freely. Forced to open your eyes because of that, you cursed a lot in your mind.

As soon as your brain processed that you were in a strange place, your body got alert and didn’t relax. You entered now in Fighter mode, ready to jump and react as soon as any treat walk into the space you were in. Even in alert, you let your eyes explore the place.

You were in a cave. A huge one. But at the same time quite a cozy one too. There were little decorations around the place and even some kind of rustic furniture like the fur bed you were. Flowers and paintings were all over the place and there was a fire burning bright at the center of the segment you were. That’s why you could see.

While you watched your surroundings, quite impressed, a hybrid entered the cave. You could clearly see his animal ears although you couldn’t define what specie he was yet. He came slowly to your direction, sensing if you were awake. Since you didn’t feel any killing intent from him, you cautiously raise your hand.

“Yo… Hello there.” The hybrid stopped on his tracks when he heard your voice. You thought something went wrong but he still didn’t seemed aggressive enough for you to worry too much.

---

Seungcheol freezed when he heard the voice of that little human who were unconscious for almost 3 days. It was a sound that he could never compare to others. He really loved it. After she talked, she stared at him, waiting for a reaction. Seungcheol also noticed that she was in a weird posture, almost as she was ready to flee.

“Hi…?” Due his long years without using human language, he knew that his voice sounded weird, but the human didn’t even blink. Actually, she opened a smile.

“It was you that brought me here?” He nodded. Seungcheol was really surprised that he could understand her… With a little trouble but not as much as he thought. “I just remember being tossed at the river… Were there anyone else with me when you found me?” Her tone was worried and he felt bad to tell her the truth.

“No.” Coups saw her eyes starting to turn red. He panicked a little until he heard she sigh.

“I’m glad. That means they didn’t followed me right away.” She paused and looked at his eyes. Coups thought that maybe she was just as scared of him as he was of her.

“How long was I unconscious?” The hybrid just showed his fingers, indicating the 3 days. She huffed. “Well… Even if I survive this, Junhui and the others will certainly kill me”

“Junhui?” The human looked at him, surprised, and smiled.

“A friend of mine. He don’t like when I’m not around.” Seungcheol felt she relaxing a little more. He suddenly felt a little envious of that ‘Junhui’ of hers. “My name is Y/n Y/s. Do you have a name?” Seungcheol nodded. Her tone wasn’t sarcastic so he didn’t took as offence.

“Seungcheol… They used to call me S. Coups though…” His raspy voice still bothered him while talking to the human.

“And which one do you prefer?”

“I don’t mind. But…” He was shy. It was the first human interaction he had in almost 16 years.

“But?” The smile she gave him made he feels less inappropriate.

“But I want you to call me Seungcheol.” The girl nodded and repeated his name. He couldn’t help but smile.

---

Seungcheol explained to you, after the introductions, that what was restricting your movements were a medicinal paste that became hard when it dried out. It would help you to recover from the worst injuries you had at least until you were able to find a human’s doctor to really mend you.

He was being really kind to you so you dropped the fight posture. He also tried his best to tell you about him so that you became more comfortable. Including how he missed social interaction but was too afraid of mistreatment to actually go back to civilization.

That made your heart hurts. Because of that, you started to tell him about your life with your 9 boys and how your work could help hybrids like him to go back in safety. Both of you could see that you two liked each other right away. And you could already hear both Double B and Leo cursing at you again.

Tag: @hopsiclesposts​ ; @woohoney​ ; @warm-smiles-and-blue-skies ; @childfmoonn ; @moonmin-miya

[serasaka]

Thomas McClaine/Francis York Morgan fanfiction Pt. 2: Because they both deserve so much better. <3

Another long day at the station, but at least it was Friday night at last. Thomas kept this in mind as he at first plodded – but then hopped – up the steps to his little apartment. His sister Carol was performing at the club, which he would normally love to see, but this had been a particularly-rough week: “The Raincoat Killer” was on the loose, and it had just so happened to start raining. He knew Carol would be safe at the club, so he decided to focus instead on himself.

As soon as the door shut behind him with an old, familiar clunk snugly inside the jamb, he quickly but carefully put his gun and holster away, kick his shoes off, and headed straight for the record player. He was in a mood – on any other weeknight he would have headed for the shower, whipped up a quality weekday-dinner to make even a full-time chef blush, and then relax.

But there was nowhere to go the next morning; there were leftovers in the fridge, no fuss necessary… So, what better way to start the weekend than with some self-care?

Thomas adored his record-player. Carol was part of the reason he did: His talented sister was a singer, performing smooth jazzy numbers in her red silk dress and boa. In fact, Thomas was so fond of her performances that one might call it envy. Thomas occasionally donned a red silk get-up as well, complete with a wig, make-up and stilettoes. Usually that sort of thing was reserved for his lovely G…

…He sighed, mournfully just then. That, he knew, was a sordid relationship, rife with angst, humiliation and discomfort – a not-fully-requited love, it seemed. Still, even G was not available to put a show on, so Thomas was a comfortable one-man show. He half-smiled with sad eyes at the thought.

Laying the needle quite gently to the record, and waiting for that tingle-inducing fzzz that preceded the music, Thomas closed his eyes and let the music take hold of him.

---

York had been on his way back to the hotel, carrying on his usual inner dialogue with his childhood friend, Zach, about old movies and which cinematography geniuses directed them. However, as he passed Thomas’ apartment complex, something set the FBI agent senses a-tingling. Thomas entered his and Zach’s collective brain.

“You know, Zach,” he said aloud, “Thomas is a funny character, isn’t he? He’s always so coy, effeminate for sure – and that cooking! Amazing! – but do you get the feeling that he’s hiding something? Hmm,” he absent-mindedly struck a cigarette lit while driving. “I know he doesn’t have the reverse-peace-sign tattoo, like the killer does, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely off the hook – no one in this town is.” He muttered on to confidant, doing a three-point turn in the middle of an empty backroad, “He’s protective of his sister, for sure… so who’s to say that that protective personality isn’t hiding something about the case? Or… someone?”

Having turned the car around – notwithstanding just barely dodging a large fallen tree branch – York grunted approval to himself. “Yeah, it might just be a hunch, but acting on a hunch and being horribly wrong is better than not acting and being horribly right.” Mechanically dousing his cigarette in the ash tray after only a few puffs, York drove straight back to the apartments.

Pulling into the first empty spot he saw, York got casually out of the car and strode to the steps, betraying the confidence of someone who lived there. He glanced around, his head unmoving, in the near-darkened staircase: No one. All the other apartment windows were either pitch black or had a light on somewhere in another room. York’s eyes fell on Thomas’ door and, seeing that the living-room light was brightly lit, he quietly moved to the window to look inside.

What he saw made time stand still.

Thomas was sashaying, swaying, rolling his neck and shoulders; he shuffled his feet only every so often side to side, but he was clearly dancing. He saw his hands pass lazily through the air, fingers snapping. All of his movements were slow, breezy; trance-like.

Quite the dancer, isn’t he, Zach? York dialogued to himself inwardly. I never knew he could move like that. He and Carol could put on quite a show!”

A strong breeze blew in just then, surprising the FBI agent back into the present. The wind whipped his tie so hard that it smacked the window. He froze.

Thomas spun around, shocked pale – except for the flush in his cheeks.

Their eyes met through the glass.

----

Thomas, who one moment was a graceful jazz dancer, rapidly became a hurt, embarrassed man. He strode angrily to the door and threw it open. York just grinned sheepishly.

“Good evening, Thomas,” York greeted, becoming his usual calm, collected self. After all, he knew what was about to happen – with good reason. No sense in showing guilt.

Thomas glared at him, a mix of anger and confusion in his face. “York, what are you doing here?! How did you even know where…” he then pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “…Ne-nevermind. You are FBI, I guess. But why are you even here?! It’s Friday night! I’m tired and want to be alone,” he finished sternly, arms crossed over his chest. Even in the darkness of the falling night, York could still see the blush in his cheeks leading all the way to his temples and ears.

Well, what should we tell him, Zach? The truth, or…? Then, out loud, “You’re right, it’s Friday night. I thought it would be a good time to catch you guys while you’re in a good mood. Maybe we can chat about how this is affecting us,” York took a step towards the shy dancer. “After all, as Emily said: We are a team… and this is a very rough case for all of us.”

Thomas wanted to be angrier; he wanted to tell York off for such a dim-witted excuse for spying on people he just earlier that day told were ‘pretty much in the clear.’ Yet he was also a little excited to see York. Alone. At his doorstep. It was becoming increasingly too good of an opportunity to spend time with him to blow it on shooing him away, no matter how harebrained the excuse.

“Hmph,” the shy dancer brooded, honestly with only a little anger left to put in it, “well, why didn’t you just knock then?” Standing aside and gesticulating with both hands like an usher, “Come on in?”

I’m not totally sure he bought it, Zach, but it was worth a shot, York dialogued. With a smile and a polite nod, the FBI walked in and started looking about the living-room.

“It’s small, but it’s home,” said Thomas, clicking the door behind him and making double-sure that it was locked. A thrill of fear – or perhaps excitement? – went through him that maybe it was not locked this whole time after all. “Can I offer you a drink?” he asked, quickly moving to the record-player to remove the needle.

“Oh, you don’t have to turn off your music for me,” said York gently. “It’s actually quite nice.” He raised an index finger in the air like a small ‘aha!’ finger-gun. “You’ve got some refined tastes in music, I see. Jazz? Old time lounge stuff? Can’t say I know anybody who’s still into that these days.”

The shy dancer hesitantly removed his palm from over the needle. As secretly delighted that he was becoming to have York over for a surprise visit, he began to feel the familiar, unwanted anxiety knotting up his stomach. He was so painfully self-conscious; G certainly had a hand in that. It was practically beyond repair most days for poor Thomas, even when George was in the best of moods.

Thankfully, the FBI agent did not pursue it. “And yes, I’ll have a drink, thank you. What do you have?”

Feeling a little inspired, Thomas spun around and strode to the kitchenette. “Well, I have the usual water, but maybe you’d prefer something stronger?” Then, flatly, “and no, I don’t mean coffee.”

York chuckled. “Oh no, not this late, I’ll never sleep. How about you surprise me, then? You’re an excellent cook – I’m sure you’ve got something up your sleeve with bartending, too.” He turned as if to look at something interesting hanging on the wall, just to put two fingers to his forehead and channel Zach.

Lets just be on the alert for anything he slips in the drink. I know, Zach, it was a bold move to have him just make something, but we want him to be comfortable enough to talk.

He then casually turned back around to see Thomas working quickly with a bottle of gin and citrus soda. He smiled proudly at the finishing touches: A sprig of mint sitting neatly on top, and a twist of orange rind on the rim. He glided over to York and held it out. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’m told I’m pretty good at these.”

“Straight-forward, yet elegant,” York commented, taking a sip. He locked eyes with Thomas as he did, causing the latter to flare up in the cheeks again. “Wow, that’s delicious, Zach! One of the best ones I’ve ever had, I think!” He dialogued aloud to his confidante. Watching how Thomas’ face light up and his chest swell with pride, York decided that chances were very good that his drink was safe.

Thomas gestured to the couch. “C-care to sit?” His anxiety crept back no sooner than having offered. He was deathly afraid of being a boring host. However, York just smiled and sat down with his drink.

Well, Zach, I’m already imposing – may as well get started.

----

“So, tell me about yourself, Thomas,” the FBI agent started. “We probably shouldn’t ignore that I saw you dancing – I’m a bit envious. I can’t dance for the life of me, not even at my high school prom,” he smirked with a chuckle. “Why be a cop? Why aren’t you dancing on stage with Carol?”

Thomas’ anxiety spiked into his chest, and for a moment his heart stopped. “M-me? On stage?! Pssh…” He waved dismissively at first, crossing his arms and turning away, embarrassed. The beat of quietness was too long for him, though. “…Well, I’m not as good as her, for one. She taught me everything I know about dancing, b-but she’s just the best at it. Besides, she can also sing, which I can’t.” He half-turned back towards York, expecting a disinterested expression.

To his surprise, the shy dancer found an intrigued FBI agent, thoughtfully gripping his chin in his free hand.

“That’s not all true, Thomas. It can’t be – I saw you dance, and it was quite good. Might be a great career switch for you,” York concluded, taking another sip of his drink and smiling at it in that childish glee-like face he seemed to spontaneously show. In those moments, the outside word disappeared to York; for Thomas, this at least allowed him to openly blush and stare at him a little.

A smooth, seductive and almost bass-y lounge number came next on the record. The volume was still relatively muted, just enough for ambiance – save for what sounded like the breeze whipping around outside, tossing sticks and leaves against the cement walkway. Thomas honed in on it; then, turning fully back around with a hand dropping to his hip:

“Would you... Would you like to see something I’ve been practicing, York?”

York’s eyebrows flitted up with curiosity. “Sure thing. What’ve you got?”  Zach, it seems like he’s opening up to me, finally. Can’t let him clam up now, he dialogued.

Thomas curled a foot behind his leg, tapping the floor with his toes for a moment, wondering if he just made a huge mistake. What if York laughed? No – he’s a professional, and took time out of his night to come by! Why would he laugh? Then again, it would also feel odd doing this without his dress on, let alone in front of a live audience…

…In front of the object of his fancy.

Thomas closed his eyes slowly, and inhaled a deep breath. Expertly backing the needle up right to where the song began, he exhaled slowly and let his shoulders drop a bit; his hips felt a little looser. His eyes, which showed stifled fear only moments ago, now turned back to York half-lidded and darkened.

The shy dancer began to move.

----

As the music played, Thomas parted his feet and did a slow shuffle from side to side. He rocked his hips slowly, twisting inward with a slight sway when he switched them. His arms bent lazily at the elbows, and he snapped his fingers every fourth or fifth beat; when the song soared upwards, he would wisp his arms up and snap to the beat, his forearms moving from being crossed over his head to slowly drifting down to his sides.

Stealing glances at the FBI agent, he could tell he had a captive crowd.

York was spellbound. He had not moved his drink hand the entire time. The sultry beat of the music mixed with Thomas’ hypnotic dance sent his mind swimming, caught in a menacingly-slow whirlpool of emotions; his heart fluttered with every snap of the dancer’s fingers. The wind continued to whip outside, so much so that the lights began flickering. Suddenly, the lights permanently dimmed.

Thomas did not care – he was entranced.

Zach… I never realized that… York had begun to dialogue, but he could not concentrate enough. He was staring wide-eyed at Thomas, drinking in every feature like it was brand new territory.

Thomas was still in uniform, save for his shirt being half-unbuttoned and his tie hanging undone about his collar. Yet, York found that suddenly he was filling out the uniform superbly: His swerving hips, his strong shoulders, his slim waist and surprisingly firm chest. The dimmed light hit his angles, curves and features just right. The FBI agent started noticing a lush curl of Thomas’ hair dangle and drip down over his forehead, like a come-hither finger. From behind the glasses, those heavy-lidded eyes just seemed to grow darker, the ambient light sheening off of them just so. Even the dancer’s lips seemed to glimmer glossily; tiny flecks of light bounced off of them at different poses.

Feeling the building intensity of York’s stare, Thomas curled one corner of his mouth into a coy, flirtatious smirk. As he danced, he would raise and lower his head depending on the rises and dips in his swaying – now he put in extra effort to make his neck look longer, or drop his eyes closed eyes in bliss. The deep blush was crawling up his cheekbones again, into his temples and ears – and he didn’t care one bit anymore.

Once or twice, York nearly dropped his drink but gripped at the last second, brief lapses in his enraptured state.

The song was almost half-over, so the dancer pulled the trigger to press onto his next bold move.

----

The FBI agent had not blinked the entire time; the ice in his drink had all but melted away. Even Zach had fallen completely hushed. Both personas were awestruck.

A warm smirk spread over Thomas’ face. He reached a hand up and lazily grabbed the loose tie about his neck. Like a silk ribbon on a luxury gift, he slinked it off his neck, letting it swing into his other waiting hand. He brought the wide end up to his cheek and held it there, looking as if his face was pressed sweetly against someone’s chest. The dancer zeroed his sights squarely on York from beneath the heavy lids, only moving the rest of his body for a several beats.

He took the tie corner closest to his mouth into his canine, gently tugging it away again, letting the fabric drag longingly across his lower lip.

York nearly dropped his drink again.

Thomas’ smirk slowly morphed into a more serious, sultry frown, as he leaned down to the FBI agent and ran the tie fabric beneath his jaw, smoothing out to the edge of his chin. York instinctively leaned into the pull-away and, just as Thomas planned, he found himself standing upright, dangerously close to him.

Thomas took the tie and gently looped behind York’s neck and tugged him in, still dancing. He did not even drink that night, but he was drunk off of the power he found over the FBI agent. He locked his wide-pupiled eyes with York, tugging him in ever-closer.

The drink finally slipped from York’s fingers and thudded to the floor, but neither man flinched.

Z-Zach… are we? …Am I?... Once again, York could barely even finish his inner dialogue before finding his hands reaching for Thomas’ hips. Though not at all a dancer himself, York began swaying in synchronicity with Thomas; his eyes returned the stare, a mix of dumbfounded…

…and seduced.

The song was nearly over, so Thomas had to be even braver if he wanted to close out strong.

----

Letting the tie drop to the floor, the dancer wrapped his arms loosely around York’s broad shoulders. He moved his hips in close to his, until they were not only touching but moving as one. Next their torsos slowly connected, from stomach to sternum. Both of their hearts were fluttering furiously, Thomas’ even more-so as he was getting closer to what he desired. At last, their chests collided in that slow, deliciously-torturous way, and Thomas’ eyes sparked. His breath hitched; York shook with surprise, but was too taken to back away.

As the song reached its fade-out, the dancer tightened his forearms and brought the FBI agent’s face in dangerously close to his. York’s breathing started to labor; the room felt much too warm suddenly. It sent Thomas right over the edge to see the handsome man mere inches from him nearly lose his cool over what he was seeing.

Their bodies still fused, Thomas slowed the dance rhythm way down to the fade, leaning close, tilting his head slightly, and finally – finally – placing a delicate, moist kiss on York’s shocked, parted lips.

----

Silence.

Silence for that sordid, full-minute-long kiss. If York and Zach were not collectively stunned enough, they were both brought to attention right there and then. York’s surprise began to slip away nearly halfway through, his mind becoming warm, dizzy and relaxed.

York, we!... We can’t… Zach tried to dialogue with him, but the damage was done. The personas’ hearts were thudding recklessly in their singular chest. They were spiraling deeper into the pools of Thomas’ eyes, accepting the dancer’s irresistible invitation into his embrace; into his desires.

Gripping the dancer’s hips gently, York pulled him in even closer, wherever gaps of air existed between their bodies. His hands wandered up and down Thomas’ lower back, not once letting go of his body. Their lips knit and re-knit together every few seconds, slowly; with a delectable stickiness from their tongues teasing the tips of each other. Wisps of gin made it into Thomas’ mouth, sending his mind reeling. He delved inside the FBI agent’s eager mouth, wanting more; York dreamily obliged.

York felt hands gently grip the back of his head, fingers moving over his scalp, behind his ears, and touching the corners of his jaw tenderly. One hand traced a finger softly along his scars. This made the FBI agent briefly wince – his scars were sensitive, and thought no one would care to touch them anyway. To Thomas, York’s skin was becoming increasingly warm to the touch. A quick peek at the agent’s face revealed that he was, in fact, a deep scarlet across his cheekbones. His eyelids dropped close again, warm happiness shooting through his veins.

For the first time in a long time, he felt safe; he felt accepted, desired and adored.

Suddenly, all power went out in the apartment. The wind was whipping furiously outside; the sound of a snapped wire could be heard off in the distance. The room fell deathly quiet…

…Except for the blood pulsing hard in each man’s ears, so furiously were their hearts beating as a result.

Only the ambient, pale-blue moonlight through the clouds kept them from a total blackout. The light waxed and waned off the back of York’s head, shadowing his intense stare; what light made it past him glinted flirtatiously off of Thomas’ face – a glint on an eye one moment, maybe off a dewy lip the next. He, too, was staring with hunger at the man in front of him.

We… have to stay on-task, Zach, York tried to rationalize to his fellow persona, but even Zach had become submerged in the passion.

Nngh.. York, just… Zach strained, …S-stop… let go…

Thomas smirked again, but this time it was much different – much more animalistic than was his wont.

…Just do it, York… Don’t stop.

York’s breath staggered – he dove in for another kiss, pressing hard and longingly into the dancer’s mouth. He grappled the back of Thomas’ head, sliding fingers through his lush hair. The music had long-since died, but the two men were still swaying, joined at the hips as one man had a leg slightly between the other’s. Thomas was certainly coming out of his shell for York – he was undoubtedly taking control of their movements, so much was he in his element. The FBI agent was grateful, as he had no idea how to make out, let alone with another man.

If he had said that to Thomas right then, the latter would have laughed in his face most incredulously.

As they took turns softly sucking on one another’s lips in between re-knits, York glided a hand up to Thomas’ chest, sliding his fingers inside the opening of his uniform. It was hotter than hell inside his shirt; the heartbeat was such that he thought he was touching it right through his skin. York parted from the kiss and tilted his head inward, lining Thomas’ neck with soft kisses. The dancer let out a breathy moan, sending a jolt squarely to York’s overstimulated heart.

Any ordinary man would have died from it, but York and Zach soaked it expertly together.

Emboldened, York bit teasingly at the skin with his canines, producing a quiet cry from deep in Thomas’ throat. York ran his fingers along the exposed area of chest. As Thomas turned a deep cherry red, he brought a palm up to the FBI agent’s chest and shoved him…

…Right onto the couch.

The dancer grinned wildly, planting a hand on either side of York against the back of the couch. York blinked, frightened briefly.

It’s okay, York, Zach dialoged. Just pretend… it’s like high school…

Thanks to Zach’s suggestion, York spun into profiling mode. Zach had summoned the one and only time he and York came close to experimenting with another male. It was a good old-fashioned game of Truth or Dare – and it was with his worst enemy, some preppy junior. York was a diehard anti-establishment punk, mohawk and all, so the idea of being kissed by some snotty rich brat was nearly nauseating. But the prep did exactly what Thomas did to him just then. York specifically remembered that moment: He decided that maybe he might like men, too. However, the prep was a lousy kisser.

Thomas was divine.

Not to mention that Thomas was a much-lovelier human being: Smart, sensitive, even endearing in his own coy, awkward way. Bonus points for being such an amazing cook. Yes… York could tell that Thomas, even if he were hiding something, was being his truest self, right now; it proved he was the most innocent, if not tragic, of all the suspects in this insane case.

Relax, York… let us have this.

----

The dancer climbed onto the FBI agent’s lap, a leg on either side. Never breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, slowly – deliciously – and tossed it aside. York wriggled out of his blazer and chucked it behind him onto the floor. Leaning back in the couch, he drank in the beautiful dancer’s naked top-half with his eyes – and hands. His fingers traced, trembling slightly, as if reading his body with them: Up his sides… then stomach… then chest… gliding up his neck and gently grabbing behind his ears to pull him in.

Thomas allowed himself to be pulled in, closing the gap with a passionate kiss. It truly was a dream come true. He was lip-locked with York, this handsome – even if very odd – man from the big city. He was everything Thomas was not: Confident, bordering on brazen at times, rugged and angular, tough, analytical…

…and an incredibly sexy level of intellect.

Maybe it was the kind of intellect: Street-smarts with a healthy dose of book-smarts, unlike his own inherent, nerdy bookishness with little stomach for actual policework. He had been lured into it by George – his ‘lovely G.’ There was an escape now. York was the blessing in disguise, a city boy bringing the conservative, small-town façade crashing down.

Thomas nearly jumped up and packed his bags, looking to run away with York.

The two men broke the kiss again, their chests heaving with lack of air. The dancer leaned his forehead against the FBI agent’s; wrapping their arms around each other, they sat again in life-rending silence.

Save for their panting and racing thoughts.

At last, Thomas leaned back enough to look at York’s face. “Do you… want to take this to the bedroom?” he asked through a shy grin. It was only then that York could feel quite the bulge through Thomas’ pants.

York swallowed. “It’s… It’s not that I don’t find you incredibly enticing, Thomas,” he responded, carefully observing the soft contortion of the other man’s face. He followed up quickly, “Believe me, if I were any other person, I would love to take it there… I just… I’m not ready for that. I…”

York reached a hand up and cradled Thomas’ sweet face, letting the latter lean into it and close his eyes. With a thumb, York smoothed over his bottom lip, made tacky with their kisses.

“…I just need more time with you… I don’t want to ruin this,” the FBI agent implored softly.

…Is this love, Zach? Am… are we falling for him? I’m… confused, York dialogued.

The confusion poked through to the surface, as Thomas noticed and smiled affectionately. “…York,” he whispered, sliding off his lap and snuggling up next to him. “…I’m sorry, no pressure was meant.” Then, frowning a bit added, “I’m… I-I’m used to, you know, being used. By Geo—err, other men. It makes me f-feel… kind of shameful.”

York, relieved but saddened by the torture Thomas endures for affection, pulled him close and brought his eyes directly up to his own.

“You deserve better, Thomas.”

The shy dancer smiled meekly into the other man’s face, running a hand over his scars again. Seeing York wince instinctively, even under such a loving touch, Thomas cooed, “Ohh, you… You’re amazing. Surely you deserve someone who makes you see that…”

Affectionately staring into each other’s eyes again, they slowly locked lips once again. In the middle of it, York whispered breathily against Thomas’ lips:

“Can we at least… fall asleep together?” I bet you’d love that too, Zach.

A light chuckle escaped Thomas as he responded dreamily:

“Only if we don’t need to wake up ever again.”

[jaeknightorbats]

Tunnel Caprica [M] part 2

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre: Smut, dark romance

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a seemingly wealthy man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards.  It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 2

Word count: 4.7k

How does it feel like saving someone’s life?

It has been almost a month since the man named Oh Sehun promised Baekhyun that he was going to contact him to repay for saving Sehun’s life. But he’s never contacted Baekhyun since.

Baekhyun forgot all about it, as if it didn’t happen. It was the least he could do. Besides, he was given a huge tip—Sehun gave all the cash on his wallet. It was around $400. He even apologized if it wasn’t much, he doesn’t bring much cash, he said.

Because of it, Baekhyun was able to pay his dues on time and even bought his girlfriend a factory unlocked iPhone, which made her beyond happy. He took his previous gift from Yuri since he lost his things, together with his phone, at the parking lot the time he saved Sehun.

He felt like it was bound to happen, it helped him solve his problems. Must be really his lucky day.

Baekhyun was at his place, with his girlfriend. They had their legs tangled to one another at his bed, sucking each other’s tongues, kissing each other passionately.

Such bliss they felt as they lose their minds to feel the other.

Yuri slightly pushed Baekhyun’s chest away from her, separating their lips apart. Tips of their noses close to one another, feeling each other’s breath.

She looked into Baekhyun’s hazy eyes, biting her lips.

“We’ve been dating for more than a year,” she gulped, hesitant to say what she had on mind. Baekhyun gently smiled as he adored his partner. He stroked his hand on Yuri’s hair. She rolled her eyes away to rolled it back again to Baekhyun’s.

“You know…you can touch me, right?” She continued, “…Anywhere.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks flared, feeling a little embarrassed. “I know. It’s just that…” He fixed Yuri’s hair back to her ear and held the side of her small face. “…I respect you so much.”

“Aw,” breathed Yuri. She was flattered but embarrassed because she just made herself look horny. She held Baekhyun’s hand and kissed it. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

They stared to each other’s eyes dearly, as if they were the only people in the world.

“I have so much respect for you because I love you. I hope you know that.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Baekhyun’s palm on her cheek, the warmth of his legs squeezing hers, his body heat, and his love. “I love you, Baek.”

Then, Baekhyun softly pulled Yuri to him and gave her a kiss.

It’s a weekend and Baekhyun has an 11AM shift at work. He wished he could stay with Yuri longer, but he got to work to earn money to pay the bills and to make his girl happy.

Pretty average flow at the store. There were a couple of customers who held the line, few pissed him off, but he got to stay composed—it’s his job.

“After 6 months of being away, the son of the ex-president finally came back home to his homeland.”

“It’s that peak season again.” An old customer in front of the counter turned his head from the television back to Baekhyun, trying to start a short conversation.

“Well, yeah. It’s almost summer,” Baekhyun replied with a friendly smile.

The old man scowled. “Who are you talking to?”

Baekhyun scoffed and watched the grumpy man walked away after he paid his items.

Baekhyun suddenly received a text. A text from Yuri. Seeing her name on his cellphone screen always made him smile.

‘I miss you, B,’ it said.

He bit his lips to control the joy he was feeling.

“Now, what are you grinning about?”

Baekhyun shoot his phone behind his back pocket as soon as he could when he heard his manager spoke.

He faced the person in front of him.

Wait, no. It wasn’t his manager.

“Mr. Sehun?”

The man, Sehun, sneered as he placed a bottle of sparkling water at the counter. Baekhyun slowly walked forward to scan his item. He didn’t know what to feel, maybe surprised.

Sehun was wearing casual clothes, a simple plain T-shirt, pants, and a baseball cap. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Completely different from what he was wearing the night Baekhyun met him—he looked like one of the people. But there was also an atmosphere around him, or how the way he moved, that differed him from other of people.

“How’s it going?” Baekhyun asked, that’s the only thing he could think of. The man in front of him seemed well and healthy compared weeks ago when he was trying to revive him.

“I’ve been busy traveling so I wasn’t able to contact you.” Sehun opened the bottle of water and drank it after he gave his payment. “Besides, I’ve been looking for you here the same time I went here before. Twice, I think? You weren’t here.”

Surprised, Baekhyun’s brows climbed his forehead. “What?”

“Yeah, I asked someone here.”

“Why though?”

Sehun sneered, looking at Baekhyun as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “You saved my ass, man! C’mon.”

“Excuse me.” Suddenly, a soft voice behind Sehun’s took the attention of both. It was the next customer.

“Anyway,” Sehun looked back to Baekhyun, reaching for his hand, so, Baekhyun took it. “Come to my party tonight. You must come.”

Sehun turned his back to Baekhyun, raised his arm with two finger lifted, and slightly waved. “Ciao.”

There was a piece of paper on Baekhyun’s hand. He opened it, and there was an address written on it.

Baekhyun was on a completely different area of the district, he was outside the city. The peaceful side, where each house or establishment he drove by were far apart.

# 1228 Grand Aria Estates, Cayman.

Located at west side of the district, where one could get the best view of the majestic mountain range of his country, Ioca—the Turris Caelo mountains, which also meant the Heaven Tower mountains. People treat the mountains sacred because it became their shield from the horrid weather that wanted to cross their country. The mountains have saved Ioca from calamities countless times.

Cayman was considered as the wealthiest and most exclusive suburb in his district, if not in Ioca. Baekhyun knew the area, but he hardly came by—he has no business there. Now, he has.

It was already past 9:00 PM, Baekhyun was in front of the gates of the residential village, as written on the paper. He rode his third-hand car to reach the place since it wasn’t exactly an easy place to find. 

He had a little fight with Yuri before she let him attend the party. At first, Baekhyun didn’t want to come because he felt intimidated—there was no doubt that it would be a party for the rich. He’s heard of the residential village—the price of a single square-meter lot still blew his mind. He could live for years with that kind of money.

Yuri initially thought a woman has invited Baekhyun to a party once Baekhyun mentioned anything about a party. She started jumping conclusions. But when she learned it was the man who Baekhyun saved—the man who gave Baekhyun $400—invited him to the party, Yuri forced Baekhyun to attend. She thought there could be some bigger reward waiting for her boyfriend. She even helped him which clothes should he wear—she wanted her boyfriend to look slick. They didn’t know what kind of party he’ll be attending but Yuri made him wear something he could wear at any type of party—a tight jean, a black V-neck shirt, a suit they bought at the thrift shop the last minute, and a black class B leather shoes without socks to finish it all.

Yuri wanted to come herself but it was Baekhyun who doesn’t let her. He knew what alcohol could do to Yuri, he didn’t want Yuri to embarrass herself in front of people they don’t know. This made Yuri infuriated. Shouting until their throats sore. At the end, Yuri still pushed Baekhyun to attend and she only had one instruction to Baekhyun: “Don’t fool around.”

The tall iron rails began to roll open after the guards confirmed that Baekhyun was invited to Sehun’s party. The guard took his license and checked the trunk and bottom of his car with a ferocious Rottweiler tied on his hand—it was a strict security, which made Baekhyun feel a little more intimidated.

He regretted everything and wanted to go back, he should’ve brought Yuri with him, at least. But there was no turning back, Sehun already knew he reached his address.

He drove slowly by the hills. It was dark and peaceful, it looked like a very safe and quiet neighborhood. Baekhyun realized how ridiculously rich the man he saved as he drove passed by the different sizes of mansions and villas in the village.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Sehun lived next to a famous celebrity or personality.

 He finally saw a house—a large house—with a line of luxury cars parked outside.

This must be the one.

He parked a little farther away from the house. He was a little embarrassed by his ride. He took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

He said ‘tonight’. It’s a party, so it should start late.

He observed the house as he got nearer by the gates. Gates as almost tall as the main gates of the village. A classic white two-floor mansion with red bricked roofs. A fairly big driveway to the main doors. A lot of cars. All lights shined through the window. He could hear indistinct music from the house, it wasn’t very loud but he could hear it.

1228, written on one of the pillars of the gate.

He stood outside the gates and rang the doorbell. Without any word, the gate buzzed and automatically opened. He spotted two men in suits, with gears hanging on their ears, must be some guard. As he walked on the driveway, the main door opened, a man walked outside his doorsteps, and stood there waited for Baekhyun. It was Sehun. Hands on pocket, looking tall and sharp, with broad shoulders, on his black mandarin collared shirt under a white suit—he was shining. He had his hair gelled up to the back of his and and it shined under the light. He was looking very slick.

Sehun stared at the man who avoided eye contact with him.

“You’re late,” said Sehun as soon as Baekhyun reached a close distance to him. “I don’t like late people.”

Baekhyun’s heart almost dropped, nervously stepping on the short stairs to the main doors. Sehun seemed serious. “Uh yeah. I thought—“

Sehun howled, breaking his serious face on. “I was kidding! Haha. You looked so tense. C’mere.” Sehun wrapped an arm to Baekhyun’s shoulders and they entered the house.

Baekhyun nervously laughed. It wasn’t a good joke.

“Seriously, though, I value time very much.”

Baekhyun forced a laugh from his nose. But you didn’t state what time.

“But I’m glad you made it. I thought you weren’t gonna make it. You missed dinner, though. Have you eaten?” Baekhyun nodded to Sehun’s question. “You look good, by the way,” Sehun added.

Sehun released Baekhyun from his arm. Baekhyun got to breathe better. A waiter in suit, holding a tray of champagne, stopped in front of them, Sehun took one glass then gave it to Baekhyun.

What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.

Baekhyun was stiff from his position, feeling overly intimidated by everything. Even the waiter who was serving them intimidated him.

His stomach doesn’t feel good.

He looked at the glass on his hand, he’s never drank champagne in his life. But he may need it to gain some courage so he could go through the party.

Baekhyun slightly swirled the narrow glass near his nose, because he doesn’t know how to drink it, then the nice subtle aroma of the liquid that sort of smelled like flowers and fruits entered his nose. He took a sip of it, and it tasted like how it smelled but a little funkier because of the bubbles and the alcohol content. He liked the taste of it, so, he drank it all in one shot, surprising Sehun.

“I know right?” expressed Sehun, with a smug look on his face. “Tasted good, huh?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun forced a smile after tasting the drink. He may have not drank all types of alcohol in his life, but he knew he needed something stronger.

People gave them short attention as they walked inside the house until they reached the backyard. Baekhyun only assumed that people were turning their heads to them because he was with the host. Or maybe he was wearing such simple clothes. Sehun nodded to whoever he laid his eyes on and made eye contact with. They walked through the house until they reached the huge backyard.

Baekhyun assumed that the party would be loud—the one with DJs and loud music, lots of young people such as themselves, or maybe even younger. But it wasn’t, it was rather quaint. It was a sophisticated party.

High tables scattered around the backyard, occupied by people in suits and dresses, mostly suits. Everyone dressed interestingly, or what he liked to call it—weird fashion. It was the battle of who has the largest earrings and jewelries for women. Men were much more simple, but some wanted to stand out with their colored suits.

Classical music played across the yard.

“Hey, Sehun.” A man walked towards them with a glass of dark golden drink on his hand. “So, are you going to buy it?”

While Sehun was minding his own business, a waiter carrying a bottle of liquor and a couple of small, cube glasses on a tray passed by them, catching Baekhyun’s attention.

That’s what I need.

“Sir, wait,” he called the waiter, in a timid voice. “Two, please.” He coughed, slightly cracking his voice.

The waiter poured the clear liquid to two glasses. Baekhyun then took glasses of alcohol, which seemed like tequila, or something hard. He drank it both in one shot one after another without holding back.

It was tequila. The alcohol went smoothly through Baekhyun’s throat, but he instantly felt the fire ran through his face. “Wow,” he mouthed. He could feel his ears firing up. He never had something like that. He returned the glasses back to the waiter.

“Woah,” said Sehun, he watched Baekhyun took his shots.

Baekhyun gave a half smile. “Just trying to catch up.”

“Haha, you’re funny. By the way,” Sehun turned to the man he was talking to. “Chen, this is the man who saved my life—Baekhyun. But don’t tell my father.”

Both of them laughed, even Baekhyun. Then, the man named Chen shook hands with Baekhyun. “Thank you,” Chen said. “Otherwise, sales would be slow.” It seemed like a joke because Sehun laughed. But Baekhyun didn’t get the joke, he only pretended to laugh.

Chen nodded his head to Sehun then to Baekhyun and walked to another table. The other two went for an empty table.

“That man sell art,” Sehun said as if explaining everything what just happened. “He thinks he’s good, but he’s all right. Good artists aren’t interested in money.”

Baekhyun nodded, pretending he was interested. The taste of the strong liquid he just consumed still lingered on his palate, and could still feel the after effects it had. His mind was still on the shot.

 “So, what’s this party all about?” Baekhyun has been meaning to ask.

“Nothing much, really. Catching up, I guess.”

“Rich people,” Baekhyun muttered to himself, hoping Sehun didn’t hear it.

“What?”

Baekhyun immediately shook his head.

“It’s been busy. Everyone’s been out, traveling—be it business or leisure. Guess we finally had the time to catch up,” Sehun added.  “Also that’s why I couldn’t contact you immediately.”

“Yeah, you did mention.” Baekhyun slowly nodded, roaming around his eyes to observe the place. Then, one particular person took his attention. “Wait, is that—“

He looked at Sehun for confirmation, and Sehun turned at the direction where Baekhyun had his eyes on.

“Minseok?” Sehun smirked, returning his look back at Baekhyun. “Yeah, it’s been hard for him lately. Media doesn’t understand privacy.”

Baekhyun shouldn’t be that surprised to see someone he saw on the television, Sehun lived in such a luxurious neighborhood. But he wasn’t expecting to see someone like Kim Minseok.

Kim Minseok was the one who Kang Sunmi, a fifteen year-old, filed a divorce with. He’s been in the news a lot lately. Kim Minseok was 34 years old when he married the 13-year-old girl. He’s now 36.

Baekhyun felt repulsed. “What the heck is he doing here?” He couldn’t stand the fact that he was in a same room as the person who married and abused a child. It absolutely appalled him.

Sehun only observed Baekhyun’s reaction. “He’s actually my friend, and heavily misunderstood.”

Without thinking of his actions—and how could he, the tequila hit him strong, it made his head feel a little funny—he expressed a bitter face. “What?! It’s absur—“

Then, Baekhyun noticed the face that Sehun was wearing—he didn’t look happy. It washed away the disgust that was painted on his face. It scared him.

Sehun walked closer to Baekhyun, facing opposite the high table with elbow leaning on it—he was closer to Baekhyun’s ears. Sehun said in a low voice, “You have no idea how easy it is to accuse a 36-year-old pedophile.”

Baekhyun’s couldn’t blink an eye, his face was rigid with tension.

Sehun added, “That girl—Sunmi, and her mom demanded $20 million from Minseok just to not go public about the divorce. Even threatened him that they’ll accuse him of abuse when Minseok never did. He fucking loved that girl.”

Hearing the price baffled Baekhyun’s mind. They talked about money as if they have such large amount always at their disposal. Baekhyun couldn’t speak for a second, trying to process it all.

“Women,” Sehun grumbled.

Baekhyun hesistantly asked, “If that’s true… why isn’t that on the news?”

Sehun slightly scoffed, shaking his head. “You just did the face what the whole society thinks of people like Minseok. It’s pointless. We don’t want fanning the flame, now do we, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun’s brows furrowed. He’s got a point.

Women can be so cruel. He’s started to feel sympathy towards the accused.

He shook his head upon an absurd realization. No, I shouldn’t feel sympathy. It’s wrong. It’s wrong.

“So, they would let the girl win?” Baekhyun asked seriously.

Sehun stopped, looking into Baekhyun’s eyes. “What the heck is this seriousness all about?” he threw his hand to Baekhyun’s chest. “Let’s enjoy the party!”

They started to roam around the yard, meeting and greeting whoever needed Sehun’s attention. There were so much he didn’t understand, but Baekhyun kept drinking a glass of champagne. The drink was actually working—he could feel the effects of the alcohol to him. He knew he couldn’t walk straight.

Baekhyun was starting to like the party. He never knew that such delicate parties were something he was looking for; he was always used to, and always heard of, the loud ones to be more fun. There was something fancy in these type of parties—well, because it was—and it made him feel a little good and a little high class and up above compared to the people he knew. It was a nice feeling.

“Hey, man!” An obviously drunk guy approached them, he seemed a little younger than them.

Sehun faked a smile, it was already obvious to Baekhyun that Sehun didn’t want to be associated with the guy. “Jaemin.”

The guy, Jaemin, threw a hearty pat at Sehun’s shoulder. He leaned closer to Sehun’s ears. “Hey, w-why didn’t you come to my party?!” He couldn’t even speak his words properly. “You know what? You know what? The plane was amazing,” he emphasized, smiling smugly, as if trying to make Sehun jealous.

Sehun jerked Jaemin’s hand off him, but still kept his grace and said as politely as he could, “I think you’ve had a little more than enough on your booze.”

“No, no!” Jaemin wavered on his place. “You know! You should’ve seen…” An indistinct voice followed after he whispered something to Sehun.

The light in Sehun’s eyes changed.

It made Baekhyun wonder.

Sehun light patted the guy’s chest and said, “Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

Sehun walked towards Baekhyun, shaking his head. “Nouveau riche,” he mumbled with an accent that Baekhyun couldn’t distinguish.

“Nuvo what?” Baekhyun’s brows creased, trying to pronounce what he just heard.

“New money. It’s French. Let’s go.” They both turned their backs to Jaemin and started walking again. “His parents are scam… brilliant, but a scam.” He added, “They made people believe in social media that their company were donating something like money, trees, or food. But they’re really only keeping their money to themselves, and still gain hundreds of thousands of followers. It’s infuriating. And people are just so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, that sounds infuriating,” said Baekhyun, not really interested. Sehun kept sharing things to him that he never asked about, but he could only nod and agree.

“No, it’s not because of that. But because of his fucking ego. He thinks he’s all high and mighty. His parents bought that fucking plane, not him.”

“Plane? Wow,” Baekhyun reacted, as if it only occurred to him what they talked about. “People can actually buy planes?”

Sehun looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “’Course, you can.”

“How much that costs?”

Sehun scoffed. “Not cheap.”

“E-hey!” A loud voice suddenly distracted the two from walking.

It was a middle-aged, tall woman wearing an African patterned maxi dress. It seemed like a dress robe to Baekhyun—a fancy, fashionable dress robe. Her dangling bracelets made a sound as she opened her arms wide open, waiting for them, waiting for Sehun. Sehun gave a big smile, also seemed excited after seeing her

They both hugged each other out and kissed both of their cheeks with their cheeks. The woman looked at Baekhyun with a mischievous and flirty look. “So, who’s this cute guy you’re with?”

Sehun patted Baekhyun’s shoulder with a tight grip. “This is Byun Baekhyun. A friend.”

Baekhyun smiled at the woman, shy to say anything to the pretty woman.

“Oooh. Hi, Baekhyun.” The woman lightly pulled Baekhyun’s shoulder closer to her to kiss him both on the cheek.

“Baekhyun, this is good friend Maria or Mimi.”

“Mimi,” Baekhyun repeated. He found the nickname weird, Mimi was a foreign name for a local face.

“So.” Sehun grinned, rubbing his hands, and regaining Mimi’s attention back to him.

Mimi seemed like she already understood what Sehun was trying to say. She looked at the guy behind her who was in a simple suit, and the guy behind him understood Mimi. He took something on his inner pockets and gave it to Sehun.

Sehun bit his lips, still grinning, and raised a small clear plastic zip bag with white, tiny pills in it.

It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to figure it out—it was obviously drugs. It didn’t surprise him. If he could guess what it was, it could be ecstasy.

Sehun exhaled in satisfactory through his nose, shaking his head to Mimi. “I love you, Mimi. You’re the best.”

“Of course, anything for you, my dear.” They both hugged each other. “But, I must be going.”

“What? You just got here.”

“I really must be going. The kids,” she shrugged as if she couldn’t do anything that she has kids waiting for her at home. “But it was good seeing you.”

Sehun clicked his tongue. “That’s very sweet of you for stopping by.”

“Of course!” Mimi gracefully waved her hand to both Sehun and Baekhyun as she left the yard followed by her guard or something.

Sehun waited for her to leave from their sight.

“Do you take pills?” He then asked, offering Baekhyun a pill.

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure? This is shit premium. You don’t see this every day.”

Baekhyun stared at the white pill that was resting on Sehun’s palm. He shook his head. “Nah, I really rather not.”

“Okay.” Sehun shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He drank the pill and took a sip of whiskey that he was holding.

Even though Baekhyun was enjoying the party, he was starting to feel impatient why was he ever invited to the party at the first place.

They transferred inside, sitting at a sofa. Some people were still enjoying the party, some people had to go.

“Hey,” called Sehun to Baekhyun. “I’d really appreciate if you don’t tell anybody about what happened. Well, except to the ones we’ve already told here.”

Baekhyun was feeling a little laggy, and feeling a little hot. His face was all greasy, but he didn’t care. “Yeah, ok,” he replied, tipsy. He understood what Sehun was talking about—about him being overdosed.

Sehun clicked his tongue, slightly shaking his head. “My parents’ worse than jail. But damn, I’m glad you didn’t call the fucking ambulance. That’d be even worse than prison!” He paused. “My thanks to you.”

Baekhyun just scoffed.

Oh wait. He forgot to document the party and post it later on social media. He had a sudden urge to take his new phone out and share he’s on a fancy party. Bet I’d impress a lot of people.

So, he recorded a simple 10 second video.

“So, how’s your sex life?”

Baekhyun was surprised by the unexpected transition after he finished recording. The question wasn’t about his life, his job, his financial state, not even his love life, but Sehun asked about his sex life.

“What?” he said with a little giggle, eyes a little droopy. The alcohol was making his muscles a little heavier.

“You heard me.”

Baekhyun scoffed, leaning back to the sofa. He looked at Sehun, feeling ridiculed. Baekhyun felt a sense of insecurity pierced through him. He couldn’t admit that he’s never done it. Kids losing their virginities at 15, and he’s almost 30—still a virgin. It’s an embarrassment, but it was also his choice.

“So?” Sehun was waiting.

Baekhyun laughed through his nose, still couldn’t speak a word. He wanted to lie about it, but for some reason, he didn’t know what to say. “Mm—Uh” He was basically slurring words.

Sehun reclined back with eyes wide open after concluding something on his mind. “No.” He leaned forward, very close to Baekhyun’s face and said in a low voice. “You’ve never done it?”

“No!” Baekhyun denied, moving away from Sehun. “Of course, n-“ Baekhyun’s voice got lower.

“So, when was the last time? Earlier?” Sehun was high, all right. The grin on his face was creeping Baekhyun out.

Baekhyun couldn’t form a word again. He emptied the glass that he was having.

Sehun realized what his friend was hiding but decided to not say anything.

“So, who was the one you’re texting earlier? And why were you all so fucking grinning? Girl or boy?”

Baekhyun cringed. “Of course, she’s a girl. What the hell?”

“What? People appreciate my open mind-ness.” Sehun shrugged with open arms. “How old is she?”

“23.”

“Nice. So, she your girlfr—“

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Why do you ask so much questions?”

Sehun stayed silent and respected Baekhyun. They both stayed silent for a while, observing the party, Baekhyun drinking another booze.

“What’s this party all about? Again?” Baekhyun asked. He felt calmer and stupid—he realized that he just raised his voice in front of a millionaire.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked Sehun, ignoring Baekhyun’s question.

Baekhyun bounced his head as a response. He looked at Sehun. He noticed that there was something different about him, about his eyes. Something clicked. He didn’t know what exactly, but it was intriguing.

“Follow me.” Sehun stood up, buttoning his unbuttoned white suit, and started to walk.

Baekhyun watched him walk, then he later followed.

Maybe this is it, he thought. The reward I’m waiting for.

He kept following Sehun who was walking straight. He realized Sehun only had one drink, and it was the whiskey after he took the pill. He checked the time on his watch. He had to frown hard to see the image on his wobbling wrist clearly.

It’s almost midnight.

To be continued...

A/N: Send notes. Follow me on twitter for updates @/jaeandbats

**

Previous chapter / Next chapter 

**

Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (NEW!)

[xiubaek-13]

Unusual Suspects

Prompt: Minseok (feat Baekhyun, sorrynotsorry) + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “You heard me. Take it off.”

Setting/AU: Vampire

Warnings: it’s kind of a crack drabble, mentions of blood & death, supernatural themes, swearing, standard vampire stuff, implied smut.

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Again, sorry this took so long anon, I hope you enjoy it. The idea was originally going to be a witch/wizard au but the vampire one came to me after seeing this prompt and I kept laughing about it so I had to make it happen. 

***

  Knock knock.

You groan from underneath the pillow you’d put over your head in an attempt to block out the incessant knocking at your front door. Who the fuck door knocks at this time of night? You sleepily grabbed your phone, the screen illuminating, temporarily blinding you while showing you the ungodly hour of 3am.

    Knock knock.

Three in the fucking morning. You had no missed calls, unread messages or anything to indicate that someone needed you, and really, if they needed you then odds were that they also knew where your spare key was kept and would just let themselves in.

    Knock knock.

You threw the covers off in a huff, half asleep, barely human and 100% pissed off - like a cat when it has to have a bath. You got up and stumbled to the door, your equilibrium not quite caught up to the fact that your body was upright and moving. You did pretty well to only fall into the wall twice.  

Your hair was a mess and you probably had drool on your face but those were things that alert people considered, not abruptly awoken in the middle of the goddamned night people. Those people only had three thoughts - Do I need to pee? Who do I kill for waking me? And Can I go back to sleep now?. You flung the door open - again, alert people would probably have some sense of self preservation and maybe not open the door at 3am to complete strangers - and grumpily sized up the two people in front of you. Why the fuck did they look so pleasant and AWAKE? The two men in front of you seemed pleasantly surprised that you’d opened the door.

They didn’t look at you like they’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes knocking on your front door, no they looked like the picture perfect missionaries who usually woke you up (at a much more reasonable hour of 8 or 9am). One wore white, the other wore black. Both had black hair, styled more than your standard missionary would have theirs but who knew what the hell these two did given they were knocking on your goddamned door at 3am, maybe they were a bit vain, you didn’t care. They looked rather harmless to you in your current state. The only thing that stood out were their eyes, those were far too intense for your standard missionaries, even your barely awake, murderous self could see that. Still, there were people knocking on your door at 3am who looked poised to try and sell you on the word of god and you were not having it. Jesus would want you to be well rested if he expected you to follow the thou shalt not murder commandment.

All you wanted was to go back to bed and be left alone. 3am was not  time for a conversation on your doorstep. You wanted them gone, the sooner the better. “Seriously, what the hell do yo-”

The one in white smiled sweetly at you as he stepped forward and asked. “Hello! Do you have a minute to talk about Dracula?”

You couldn’t believe you were about to shut down the messengers of god this early in the morning but here you were. Normally you played along then gave some witty remark about making a deal with a crossroads demon or telling them that you were actually the antichrist, or that you were waiting for your human sacrifice to turn up. Those were always post coffee conversations, when your wit was less bitchy. These two weren’t getting any of that treatment today. No, you were going to keep it short and sweet. A simple ‘no’ then you could close the door and go back to bed. “No- wait, Dracula?” Well that was unexpected. It did explain the stupid hour of the day though.

“Yes!” The one in black stepped forward as well, smiling warmly, happy that you’d basically recanted your rejection of their presence.

“You’re vampires?” You asked. You weren’t quite awake enough to remember two very, very important things. 1. Vampires were not real and 2. If they were by some weird twist of fate, actually real vampires, then you most definitely should not invite them in. You should close the door, go back to bed and sleep it off. You didn’t do that though, instead opting to rub your eyes and take a proper look at these alleged vampires. The one in white was slightly taller than the other. He had broad shoulders, dark tousled hair, khol lined eyes & a lean body. Everything about him appealed to you, which made sense if you were to believe that he was a creature of the night. You could happily ogle him for hours but you mind reminded you that a) it was rude to stare and b) there was another man for you to roam your eyes over. You stared at him unabashedly which didn’t seem to unnerve him, if anything it interested him. He was only slightly taller than you, with dark hair that fell into his feline eyes, which were also lined, but with a smoky red liner. His black shirt clung to him and you could see that whilst he wasn’t as tall as his partner, he was muscular.

As you stared at the two men the one in black smirked at you and spoke softly. “Yes. We have pamphlets.” As he spoke the other held out one of the aforementioned pamphlets in his delicate fingers. This whole encounter so far was utterly ludicrous.

You took it from him and flipped it over in your hands, confused as the logical part of your brain tried to get through to you. “Vampires have missionaries?” The concept seemed utterly stupid. Vampires were the fictional beasts from gothic horror. They were entities with powers that were almost unmatched, not quiet door to door missionaries like the pair standing in front of you. Still, you had questions. Even if they were scamming you, they had piqued your interest.

“Where else would new vampires come from?” The taller of the two asked, cocking his head to the side as he laughed lightly at your question like you were the one saying crazy outlandish things.

“I assumed you bit people.” You shrugged. If you were to believe the tales from your childhood, vampires - still fictional - created more of their kind by biting someone and draining them of their blood, and once the person was at death’s door they fed them some of their blood. Then they let them die. Once the victim died the blood in their system would raise them as a new baby vampire. The stories were always like this, some small variations existed here and there but what do semantics matter when the whole concept is fictional?

The shorter one frowned slightly at your response and nodded, clasping his hands behind him. “There are many harmful stereotypes. May we come in?”

“I guess.” Was your stupid answer, stupid because had you been more awake or even remotely concerned for your safety you would have never let two strangers into your home during the day, let alone at 3 in the goddamned morning. But the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Not even five minutes ago you’d been ready to tell whoever was at your door exactly where they could go and/or what implement to shove up their own ass so that you could get yourself back into bed and back to sleep but here you were, stepping aside to let the two men (whose names you hadn’t bothered to ask because manners were also apparently not a thing right now) enter your home.

You led them to your kitchen and started to pour yourself a glass of juice. “Should I offer either of you a drink or is that a little on the nose?”

The taller one laughed and shook his head. “And she’s funny at 3am, I like her.”

“I must apologise for my partner. He appears to have forgotten his manners. My name is Xiumin & this is Baekhyun.” He inclined his head towards his partner who just seemed happy to be indoors.

“We don’t usually get this far to be honest. People usually say some rather crude things to us.” Baekhyun looked around the room, his eyes shining. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks? It’s a mess right now but it’s super early or super late, who the hell knows, and I wasn’t expecting guests.” You stifle a yawn as you vaguely gesture around the room.

Xiumin stepped forward, drawing your attention back to him. His sharp gaze held you in your spot as he smirked and closed the gap between the two of you. “You know, you really should be more careful. Letting two complete strangers into your home at any hour is a risk but in the dead of the night after they told you they were vampires? That’s downright stupid.”

You froze as you finally realised the position you were in. Whilst they weren’t hulking muscle pigs you were outnumbered and you were pretty sure they were still stronger than you. “The vampire thing is a joke though, right?” You half heartedly laughed. “I mean they aren’t real…”

You turned your head as you heard Baekhyun chuckle from across the room as he inspected some of the photos you had pinned to a board. He paused with a photo of you and your best friend in his hands and looked at you, his eyes darker and more menacing than before. “Oh my dear, vampires are very real. We’ve just had to amend our methods of conversion over the years.” Your eyes widened in fear as you spotted his fangs as he spoke. “We figured it worked so well for the church over the years, so why not try it. We increase both our numbers and our real estate portfolio for every home we’re invited into.”

You were scared, there was no point in denying that fact, but the more time you spent with the two of them, the more comfortable you felt in their presence. The longer they spoke to you, the less terrified you became. You figured you’d try to keep them talking until that fear subsided a bit more. Then you’d be able to work out a way out of this, negotiate with them or something.

You kept them talking, asking their answers to other common stereotypes associated with vampires. You figured they’d have to have them in case someone didn’t let them into their home but still wanted to talk. Their answers were so well formulated and convincing that it almost undid the two and a half decades of fear mongering you’d been fed. Almost. Twenty minutes later, you were still terrified and fearing for your life. You didn’t want to die yet, you still had recipes you wanted to make and what good were they if you couldn’t stomach food anymore? Would animals hate you if you were a vampire? You’d sooner die and have that be it than live out an existence where every dog and cat hated you.

You must have given a voice to those fears because you heard Baekhyun chuckle again as he moved back across the room towards you. “You shouldn’t be scared little one.” Xiumin sighed as he continued to stare at you. “We’ve been watching you and think that you’d make the perfect addition to our little family. I promise, we’ll let you enjoy your time with us before we turn you. You’re less likely to hate us after if we show you how good one of our kind can make you feel.”

“And who said we have to turn you tonight?” Baekhyun added. “Darling, we have so much planned. We can take our time, work out all of these niggling human concerns of yours.”

Xiumin held your face in his hands. “Tell me no after I kiss you and we’ll turn you now, but if you tell me yes then you’ll have a night that you won’t regret.” He attached his lips to yours. You felt the soft, plush lips against yours and strangely the fear you had started to dissipate. He didn’t force the kiss, seemingly waiting until you either pushed him away or made a move to show him you wanted to continue. Either way, you were going to die tonight. That much had been made clear. The choice had been made and there was no way you were going to be able to fend off two vampires and not die a horribly painful death. In the back of your mind your brain gave you two options, either die now or let them give you pleasure before dying. It even threw in the possibility that you were still dreaming and if you were dreaming then you’d obviously go for the option of sex with two hot vampires.

You settled on throwing caution to the wind, something you’d done a lot tonight, and responded to his movements allowing him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue swiping along it. He released your lip and kissed you again, this time deepening the kiss. He varied the pressure he applied, giving you soft kisses then deep hungry, breath stealing kisses. When you eventually broke the kiss you were panting as you tried to catch your breath. You meant to ask make a witty comment about how that was a bold move for a missionary but what came out of your mouth was more of a moan than words.

He trailed kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your flesh. “You taste like fucking candy.” He groaned into your shoulder as he momentarily stopped himself.

His voice was a low rasp and you thought he’d said something but you were too caught up in how his mouth felt against your skin and didn’t hear him. “Sorry what?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

[fanatic1997]

Agent 6 [1]

Summary: You wanted out of the CIA. The only thing, or better yet, person standing between you and your freedom was the CIA’s most wanted man and London’s youngest business mongrel. All of your colleagues had stayed clear of this mission but you had no choice, you had to kill Tom Holland.

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: some adult language

Word Count: 3,265

Part 1 out 2 maybe 3

I promised this weeks ago. I’m sorry about the late upload but I’ve been experiencing a bit of a block. Also pics are not mine. 

Part 1

“Mum, really. I have enough on my plate tonight,” Tom ran a hand through his hair frustrated. He looked down at the list his mother had drawn up of eligible women that would be in attendance tonight.  

Nicola Holland was persistent. “Promise me you will at least make an attempt at a conversation with some of these women,” Nicola’s tone was final. She wasn’t asking. “I want grandkids Thomas, maybe they won’t ignore me like my children like to do.” The matron shuttered and Tom rolled his eyes. His mother could be quiet dramatic sometimes but he had no other option but to agree to his mother’s requests.

Tom nodded reluctantly at his mother and his mother smiled hugely. “You look dashing tonight Thomas, I’m sure I’ll have my grandbabies by the end of the year.” Nicola adjusted Tom’s tie before kissing him on the cheek and leaving his study. She still had some preparations left for the gala tonight.

Tom looked down at the list of names. He recognized one of your alias’ immediately and he grimaced. So the anonymous tip he had received was right. He hadn’t mentioned it to anybody else. All he had done was tighten up his security.

His growing anticipation made him wonder if that would be enough. But it wouldn’t be the first attempt on his life and he couldn’t bring himself to worry his mother, not when she was finally returning to her old self from before his father had passed away.

_____________

You bit your cheek slightly watching the guard at the gate run your invite. It was almost cynical how nervous you were now on your last mission when you had trained countlessly to wipe out all emotions.

You knew it was going to be a stiff price to pay for you to get out. But you would never have expected for your boss to ask for the impossible.

Your ticket out was Tom Holland, London’s youngest CEO and the CIA’s most wanted.

You weren’t even sure what had secured the young tycoon the lucrative spot. That had been classified, even to his assassin.

Your agency had secured an invite to the Holland’s annual auction on behalf of Tom’s birthday. It was to be a ball for England’s upper crust.

Your months of training, of preparing and running through different scenarios had all come down to a single night, a small, three-hour window.

After the guard at the gate handed your chauffer back the invite, the massive gates to the Holland estate opened to allow your limo entrance. You counted the minutes that it took for the chauffer to drive up the large mansion, estimating a rough mile from the gates to the oversized home. You should be able run that in about 6 minutes, factoring in the night’s crisp air into your calculations. You stored that information away, adding to your plan B if things went south.

When your chauffer pulled up to the entrance, you waited for him to walk around and open your door. Meanwhile, you scanned the building in front of you, taking in the security measures that had been put in place. You internally groaned at the sheer amount of guards positioned 10 meters apart from each other around the building and on the rooftop. “Lets hope we don’t have fireworks tonight,” you grumble under your breath.

When your chauffer reached your door and slid it open, youquickly wipe away any emotion on your face. You took your chauffer’s hand and allowed him to help you out. It was a particularly cool night and the fur coat you had on was more for show than for actual warmth. You looked around seeing more people getting out limos, all dressed in top dollar outfits no doubt. The dress you wore was from evidence, no doubt seized from an asset forfeiture from an heiress in a CIA raid.

By the time you entered the ballroom, the party was in full swing. Waiters passed with hors d’oeuvres and wine.

You could feel quiet a few pair of eyes staring in your direction as you floated throughout the party to count the exits and the amount of guards. It wasn’t unusual at lucrative events like these for people to stare at any new comer; they were all trying to figure out what heiress you were or what millionaire you were accompanying.

As far as you could tell, the guard posted at the western exit was new. He was shifty and looked all too paranoid, keeping a hand on his gun at all times. He was smaller too so he would make a good exit strategy for Plan C.

You grimaced when you noticed a familiar KGB agent in the making her rounds of the room as well. She hadn’t seen you but you would recognize her anywhere. You weren’t surprised, Tom was sure to be a wanted man in multiple countries seeing how he was already a wanted man in the US, foreign soil to London. This was also the exact reason nobody at the compound had wanted to take on this particular mission.

You noticed a blonde head chatting up a pretty girl in a corner of the ballroom. You had studied Tom’s best mate for months now and you could spot him in a crowd. Harrison Osterfield would bring you close enough to Tom to lay your poison.

You adjusted your wig. Your contacts irritated your eyes but you needed them. Your whole appearance mocked all the women that Harrison loved to carry on his arm. The color of your dress, the risqué cut of your dress and even the very perfume you wore was all to lure in Harrison.

You had done your homework right because after you brushed past Harrison and his bird to get to the bar, his eyes had landed on you. You had recognized the pretty face of the Czech agent and you bit your cheek hard seeing her recognize your face as well. She was a B level spy with hardly enough experience to really pose as a threat to you. So you ignored her and continued on your path to the bar, sashaying your hips a little more to ensure Harrison’s attention.

Through the reflection of your wine glass, you spotted Harrison approaching you slowly. You smiled to yourself, he had taken the bait.  

“I make it my personal mission to know all the pretty girls attending the party. And you happen to be the only one I don’t know,” Harrison’s voice was flirtatious and would have probably made any other girl swoon on her feet.

You laid on your most charming smile. You unabashedly roamed your eyes over Harrison’s fit physique. When your eyes landed back on him, Harrison threw you a wide smirk. “Like what you see darling?” he asked.

“Maybe, but I might be more willing to share my opinion after a drink,” you raised an eyebrow and Harrison only smiled. He turned to grab the bartender’s attention. Of course the bar was an open bar, the Holland’s would never charge their guests. However, they would reduce the selection of wines to certain guests.

“She’s with me, please get the lady a glass of our top shelf selection,” Harrison nodded to the bartender that immediately filled your glass with a much pricier wine. You felt Harrison slide a hand to the small of your back that happened to be bare thanks to the cut of your dress. You resisted your urge to grimace.

Don’t get me wrong, Harrison was definitely handsome, and under any other circumstance, you would take advantage of this perk of the job but you tried to not make it habit to mix business with pleasure.

“Thank you Mr. …” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink, gesturing for him to introduce himself.

“Osterfield, Harrison Osterfield. You can call me Haz. It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. …” Harrison took a hold of your hand and placed a chaste kiss on your fingers before looking up expectantly waiting for you to reply.

You gave Harrison your alias for the night and he smiled brightly at you. He was quiet the charmer.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of brown orbs followed your and Harrison’s movements. You had caught his attention the moment you had walked in. He had read your file and he had memorized your face already. He knew you were going to be attending the ball tonight, he had been warned. You were pretty in the pictures but they hadn’t quiet captured how breathtaking you really were. What a shame.

He had nudged Harrison in your direction when you had first strutted into the ballroom. He had meant for Harrison to keep an eye on you, willingly or not. A single person was slippery but a couple would be easily spotted. And Harrison was doing a bang up job chatting you up. Harrison, of course, thought you and Tom would be lovely together.

The last couple of months he had set up Tom with multiple women of his own choosing. All in the name of Nicola Holland who had tasked Harrison with the job of getting her son hitched; well not hitched per se, but settled down and producing babies for her to spoil. Nicola was an open minded woman, grandkids didn’t necessarily have to be paired with marriage and Harrison had only chuckled when she had stated this modern opinion.

Harrison loved Nicola like a mother and when she had asked him to help her son, he couldn’t exactly say no. No matter how annoyed his best mate would become.

Harrison had offered you his arm after your drink and he had every intention of sliding you up with Tom and returning to his date that waited for him in the corner of the room. In the process, he made a show of showing you around the room, introducing you to guests in order for you to not be suspicious when he introduced you to his single mate, Tom.

However, he didn’t anticipate to be pleasantly surprised by your wit or your impeccable knowledge of artwork and artifacts that littered the Holland ballroom. Nor did he anticipate for you to hit it off so well with some of his diplomatic friends. He had slid his arm around your waist almost possessively when some of the business men gawked at you or made lewd comments. And all he could think about now was forgetting his promise to Nicola and instead, dancing with you because he wanted you for himself. He had never thought to settle down but he couldn’t think of you as one of his many one night stands either.

Harrison was in trouble and you recognized the emotion swirling in his eyes and you planned on absolutely exploiting it.

Before he could ask you to dance with him, a voice interrupted the both of you. “Mind if I ask your charming date for a dance?” You didn’t miss the slight tensing of Harrison’s jaw before you turned to meet the chocolate orbs of the all too familiar face.

The same face you’ve been researching for months. The reason for this mission. Your ticket out.

Tom Holland was asking to dance with you.

“Sadly, she’s not my date,” Harrison took a sip of his drink and as much as he wanted to hide his disappointment for the interruption, you recognized the emotion in his eyes.

It was your job to read people after all. He was basically leaving it up to you if you wanted to accept Tom’s proposal.

You turned to look at the handsome brunette. His expensive suit fit him like a glove which accentuated his fit physique much like Harrison’s.

You accepted Tom’s outstretched hand and smiled, “How can I say no to the birthday boy,” you smiled, not missing the grimace on Harrison’s face.

Tom hadn’t paid much attention to his best mate’s reaction. In actuality, he wanted to get his assigned assassin far away from his best friend as possible.  

Tom lead you to the middle of the ballroom. He then wrapped his arm around your waist and laid his hand between your shoulder’s, much higher than where Harrison had placed his hand earlier. It was still skin to skin contact much to your chagrin. He took your other hand in his while you rested your free hand on his shoulder.

“I think a Happy Birthday is in order,” you looked up to Tom, trying to string up a conversation.

Tom’s eyes sparkled, “thank you. I think I’m spending my birthday pretty well, dancing with a beautiful woman that has already charmed my best mate,” Tom whispered into your ear. You smiled tight lipped, not really understanding where this was going.

Tom spun you effortlessly and that’s when you recognized a familiar face across the room. And the German assassin was staring back at you. You tried to keep your surprise at bay but your mind was firing thoughts a mile of a minute. You had only met with this particular BND agent a few times before and they were never pleasant experiences. If the bullet wound in your shoulder was any indication. Of course, she had a bullet wound on her hip to rival yours.

There was only one reason she was here and you swallowed thickly. This was going to complicate your mission.

“So tell me, how did you manage to get your hands on The Macallan,” Tom raised an eyebrow questioningly.

The gift you had brought to auction off on behalf of Tom’s birthday was definitely a lucrative item. You had meant to get his attention and you had researched Tom’s fascination of whiskeys and bourbons. Stealing the bottle was street level work, nothing too difficult to attain from a museum with basic level security measures.

“It was willed to me by my grandfather,” you say simply and you shiver as you feel Tom’s chest vibrate with laughter.

“I’ve seen a bottle identical to it in a museum in Scotland, so tell me again how you managed to attain it,” Tom raised an eyebrow challengingly before pulling you in closer.

You felt your heart pick up for a second but you only smiled. “I can promise you that I am the rightful owner, if the museum wants to honor that or not, that’s not my problem. Maybe they should tighten up security,” you smile coyly and you can see an impressed smile form on Tom’s lips with your answer. It’s not exactly a lie, you were the rightful owner, just not this alias.

“Well I don’t think we will be auctioning off stolen merchandise but it will make a great addition to my personal malt collection,” Tom smirked.

“And maybe I should tighten security here as well,” he added as an after thought. He had whispered this into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Trust me Mr. Holland, I’m not here to steal anything,” you say honestly and Tom’s eyes flash with an emotion you recognize as suspicion.

Your gut rushes with paranoia. It was a bit odd how smoothly things were heading. In all your missions, you had never tried to make direct contact with the target. You were being brazen and you weren’t sure yet if this was going to bite you in the ass later.

The music picked up to a melody you recognized as a tango. You were just about to step away from Tom, your one dance was over but he tightened his hold on you more firmly, “I would think a woman of your pedigree would know how to tango,” Tom raised an eyebrow challengingly.

He had seen his mother eyeing the two of you from across the room. And he was not surprised in the least when the music started to play. It was his mother meddling by requesting the obvious change in genre of music.

Nicola Holland would be damned if she missed the only opportunity she had to pair off her eldest son. She had seen how close the two of you were and you were the only woman he had asked to dance all night.  

You took the challenge and slid your arm to around his neck and straightened your arm to fit the dance.

Tom was a great dancer and you matched his moves perfectly. You two weren’t the only ones on the dance floor but nobody had tried the challenging moves the two of you were expertly pulling off. The sensual dance had aroused lots of attention and you knew this meant this alias was burned. But this was your in and you knew it.

Tom roamed his hands expertly down the curve of your bare back and dipped you smoothly. You hitched a leg over his back to catch yourself even though Tom’s strong hold supported you, it was just insurance.

You didn’t miss the pair of blue eyes that stared intently at you and Tom, seeing them from your dipped position. Harrison had watched you and Tom flirt shamelessly during the whole dance.  

You weren’t his date but he still had to fight the raging jealousy that had pitted into his gut.  

“I’m impressed Mrs. y/l/n” Tom breathed heavily after finishing the dance. He held you close and you heard an applause erupt from the crowd, (no doubt initiated by the Matriarch of the Holland’s). Tom only smiled, holding eye contact with you.

“I don’t remember telling you my name,” you quirked your head to the side, giving Tom a smirk.

“Harrison isn’t the only one who keeps track of all the beautiful women attending the auction,” Tom smiled cheekily before leaning into you.

“Meet me in my study, I would like a moment alone away from all the staring eyes,” Tom whispers into your ear. You see Tom looking in Harrison’s direction who had yet to take his eyes off the pair of you.

You only nodded and Tom called for a guard to show you to his study. This was your chance. You looked over your shoulder to see the German assassin make a bee line for the door. You tracked her movements before looking around the rest of the room and you noticed a few more competitors from across the world eyeing you back. You bit your cheek. You weren’t the only one here for Tom and you would be damned if they got to him before you cashed in your ticket to freedom.

___________

You knew you should have ran after pouring the poison into Tom’s bourbon. Nothing would have prepared you for this.

You were currently staring down at a list of all your alias’ from across the world. All alias’ you had employed since you first started at the CIA.

You were burned. And the list sat completely open on Tom Holland’s desktop. He knew you were coming and now you could distinctly here the rapid footsteps of bodyguards approaching Tom’s study where you were currently standing in. You had wasted too much time scrolling through all the CIA files on you.

This whole mission was a set up. You should have seen all the red flags; things had gone too smoothly.

You unstrapped the gun from the inside of your thigh. You had one more thing you could leverage.

Call it a wild hunch, but the number of assassins waiting for you to fail, biting their time to kill Tom was your leverage.

They wouldn’t try anything with you, which was also the reason they hadn’t interfered yet.

____________________

@imnotuglyimjustpredebut @fandom-princess-stuff @casualprincess77 @mayakblack

[zayashmaya]

Gods and Monsters - 3 - Off to the Races.

Other chapters here!

Marvus x Reader; SFW

Your favorite clown comes to your rescue.

My ... man is a tough man But he's got a soul as sweet as blood red jam And he shows me, He knows me Every inch of my tar-black soul

- Lana Del Rey

You didn’t see Lanque for the rest of the evening, which was all fine and well once you were two drinks into some serious shit on the dance floor. Remele certainly knew her audience — the purplebloods in attendance had quickly taken control once they trickled in with fashionable lateness, and everything had been set up for the ensuing clownery that followed. With Marvus at your side and your veins flooded with dubious alcohol, you felt nigh unstoppable, letting loose your inhibitions among a sea of trolls who would have killed you on the spot in a fit of capriciousness.

But a few of the clowns had come by to ruffle your hair and honk at you in recognition for having been a frequent presence in the church. You’ve certainly come far from the days of running for your life and getting trapped in an alleyway with a purpleblood seconds away from bludgeoning you to death. You kind of like them now.

And you definitely liked the way Marvus watched you as you swayed to the dizzying rhythm of pulsating music. Even his hands caressing your bare skin sent ripples of ticklish excitement throughout your body. It felt so different from when you had danced with Lanque. More on your terms, so to speak, and thus more thrilling. All in good fun, you thought. It’s not like he was serious about his flirting, anyway.

The purplebloods finished off the party with a frenzy of rapping that Marvus felt compelled to join. Stelsa had found her way to your side and eagerly followed your lead as you both giggled and danced your sanity away. You recognized some of Marvus’s lyrics from a few performances you had attended, and screamed your head off with the crowd as you sang along, feeling the heat of the lighting and the blurring colors collapsing all over you in swirling synesthesia, until you embraced the euphoric sensations and became one with the music.

Chucklevoodoos, a voice whispered through the cracks of your fraying mind.

Who cares, you answered back. I want this. I want this.

I feel whole.

Marvus was watching you. You felt compelled to direct your entire attention solely to him, not to any other highblood or to Stelsa but to him and him alone, and for a moment you heard the cheers of partygoers distorted into screams of pain before he beckoned you over with his arms spread out in theatrical showmanship. You clawed your way through the masses and into his waiting embrace, laughing for no reason and yet there was every reason to laugh —

“Snap out of it babe,” he said as he directed the microphone away from him, and even though the cracks were suddenly breaking and collapsing like shattered glass, all you could think of was how he said it just for you, only you, only you —

“What if I don’t want to,” you whispered, but nobody heard your admission.

As your fingers dug into the lapels of his jacket, you pressed up against him and scanned the crowd in a moment of clarity. Stelsa. Was she safe? Did you imagine all of the blood and death and fire?

Marvus’s arm was wrapped around your back as he held you close during the madness. You ran a shaky hand through your hair and wondered where the night would lead, because the highbloods were getting a little too rowdy. A gentle pat to your behind pulled you out of your thoughts, and you threw a scandalized look to Marvus as he grinned down at you. With the microphone poised before him, he called out to the partygoers, “Hey.”

That simple word held all the weight of an important command. The crowd fell silent, and a shiver rolled down your spine. You pressed your forehead to his side and tried to make yourself seem as small as possible, conscious of being stared at by so many people.

“Yall havin a good time??” The crowd roared to life in answer. “Lemme hear u give it up for the mutherfxxer who made it all happen, ufeelme?!”

Amidst the chorus of cheers, Remele bounced up to the clearing where Marvus waited for her, snatching the microphone out of his hand and baring her fangs in a wide smile as she addressed her attendees. You huffed a quiet laugh as you listened to her shill out her latest art pieces and advertise her gallery.

“ — and I woulde like to thank one of my best supporters, my very goode friend and my darling muse!"

You jerked your head towards Remele as she zeroed in on you. “Please, no — “ you begged, but she already grabbed hold of your upper arm and snatched you out of Marvus’s embrace. You looked back at him in a silent plea, but he only winked at you and flashed his toothy grin.

Remele whirled you around to face the crowd. The spotlight was on you now.

You meekly waved and prayed for the ground to swallow you whole. “Tonighte, dear guests, I have a confession to make,” she dramatically said, her eyes flashing in excitement. “Were it not for our resident alien, my gallery might never have gotten so muche recognition! Because she was responsible for the gruesome murder of a highbloode mere steps from my gallery, all of those perigees ago!"

”Remele!” you screamed in a whisper, withering away from the crowd as it erupted into bewildered laughter and indiscernible heckling. “What are you doing?! They’re going to kill me!”

And not just the attendees, but Marvus, too. God, you could hardly bring yourself to look at him, because even though Remele was technically the one who killed the purpleblood, you were still pathetic enough to get yourself into trouble in the first place, and the last thing you ever wanted was for him to catch wind of your fucked up escapades, and now your mind was racing a mile a minute but Marvus was just looking at you with raised eyebrows, and he didn’t look angry, just thoughtful —

“Oh, relax,” Remele cut into your mental breakdown, ignoring your attempts to claw your way out of her grasp — she was ridiculously strong — and continued her speech. “In honor of my muse, I have channeled my inspiration for that fateful nighte to create — “ She threw her arm out in a wide arc and directed everyone’s attention to a covered canvas mounted to a wall. ” — this!”

A rustblood scuttled over as if on cue and tore down the white fabric covering the canvas. All eyes were on Remele’s latest painting. Perhaps now was your chance to abscond? Maybe you could use this precious time to find Stelsa and hightail it out of here with one last ‘fuck you’ to Lanque —

Except your attention was entirely captured by the painting as soon as you dared to glance at it.

You were the subject, pressed flat against a dark wall and limbs splayed out like a cheesy damsel in distress, gripping the brick behind you as you stared at the viewer, all wide-eyed and afraid. And, much to your mortification, you were naked — or rather, lacking any sort of clothing while retaining no bodily features characteristic of your sex. Remele had never seen you naked, after all. Rather imaginative of her to paint you completely sexless and alabaster white, with red and purple stains blotched over your figure as though you were covered in blood.

What the fuck, Remele. Did you really look that pathetic to her that night?

Your mouth simply hung open in shock while the audience ascertained the painting with thoughtful murmurs. Remele waited with baited breath, whispering to you, ”Just you waite and see, I’m gonna be fuqueing loaded after this!”

Suddenly, a voice rose high over the crowd and called out what appeared to be a price.

Remele squeeled. You felt your soul leave your body. That better not have been Zebruh.

As if on cue, an intense bidding war began over the painting. You closed your eyes and hung your head, letting Remele flop your arm around like a limp noodle in joy as the price rose higher and higher still. This was it — your lowest point. Your cowardly self on display for other people’s pleasure, awaiting a lifetime of being gawked at by a privileged highblood. And worst of all, you weren’t even going to get a cut of the profits.

Within minutes, the haggling price had skyrocketed to what you imagined to be astronomical numbers. Most of the bidders had dropped out as well, with just a select few voices trying to outbid each other. A small part of you was surprised that they hadn’t attempted to resolve the conflict with good, old-fashioned murder and mayhem. Judging by the growing agitation in the bidders’ voices and the heckling of the crowd, that outcome might not be far off from the future.

And indeed mayhem ensued. Four highbloods had rendered each other into a pile of limbs and — and bicycle horns — before Remele threw her hand into the air and called out, “Looks like it’s time to wrap this shitshowe up! Going once, going twice, to the gentlemane with the facepaint and broken horne — "

A hand came down over your head and ruffled your hair. Somehow, you knew everything would be okay.

“Na b i’ma take dat home tonite,” Marvus cut Remele off. “I’ll take it for dubble tha price k :o)“

”Solde!” she shouted into the microphone, and you breathed a sigh of audible relief.

Yet your momentary reprieve was ruined once you realized that Marvus had spent a ridiculous amount of money on a scandalous painting that he had no need for. A sense of guilt hung over you as Marvus waited for the canvas to be brought to him, keeping a steadying grip on your shoulder and commanding someone nearby to hand over the payment on his behalf.

“You really didn’t have to do that, Marvus,” you quietly said, tugging on his sleeve to catch his attention.

He merely grinned. “I did dis for a more selfish reason than u think.”

“Why? Don’t tell me you actually wanted that thing?”

“Fxxk yea i did brohime, i wanna b lookin at dis erry day to remember i got one dangerous lil mama who could knock me flat on my azz n paint da walls w my blood. Shit’s hot yo.”

“I’m sorry to break the fantasy, but Remele was pretty much embellishing her story. I didn’t actually kill anyone, I would never do that!” you whined.

“Mebbe not then,” he said, his eyes staring straight through you as though he knew more than you let on. “But u prolly did a whole lotta damage to otha ppl jus by being on dis planet. A wicked shorty like u can’t survive here for dis long w/o causing sum mischief. Basically, u iz one dangerous lil alien.”

Discomfort gripped your heart. Marvus was right; you were inadvertently responsible for a few deaths. Thankfully none of your friends suffered from your magnetic ability to welcome danger —

— Karako bleeding out from his stab wounds, seadwellers laughing in the distance —

— Daraya engulfed in flames as she fought through the pain —  

— Boldir’s life withering away right before your eyes —

— Zebruh’s limbs torn apart in a frenzy of bloodlust —

You jolted and blinked through a haze of phosphenes coloring your vision. What were you thinking about again?

“Hey, it b ok u know.” Right, Marvus. Focus back on him. The painting is under his arm now, mercifully covered up so you didn’t have to look at it again. You welcomed the cold seeping into the skin of your shoulder from his touch. “U ain’t gotta b lookin so sad, doll. It just b dat way around here.”

You sucked in a shaky breath and mustered up a smile. “I know. And I guess if there’s anyone who I’d rather keep the painting, it would be you.”

Marvus lightly papped you on the cheek with the back of his hand. But before he could get a word in, Remele suddenly draped herself over you from behind. “Hello my sweete muse, please text me whenever you’re free againe; I’m going to make a livinge off of you!”

“Of course," you hastily replied, eager to worm your way out of her grasp and disappear. “I’m so … grateful that you painted such a — a charming rendition of me. You’ve truly outdone yourself!”

“It’s fxxn aces,” Marvus pipped up.

“Thank you so muche!” she gushed, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was amping up the charm for his sake. Her tactics were so shameless sometimes, but you loved her for it. You weren’t that much different from her in that regard.

“By the way, Remele, have you seen my friend Stesla anywhere around here? You know, the  tealblood who speaks without stopping to breathe.”

“Ummm,” Remele hummed, tapping her cheek with a finger as she looked around. “She shoulde be lurking somewhere in the back, methinks. Thanks for introducing us, she’s gonna be so fuqueing useful in the long run. Juste like you!”

“How kind of you to say,” you humorlessly said.

“Mhm! Anyway, I muste get going. Goodbye, sweete muse!” And off she went, gone in a flash to conduct more mischief.

Marvus tapped you atop your head. “Hey.” You looked up to his sneaky face. “U lookin about as done w all dis as i b. Wanna bounce?”

Oh you sure as fuck did. The weight of tonight’s eventful party was finally starting to come down on you. “How do you always know? I’m starting to think you have some sort of savior complex.”  

“Juss for funny lil hornless aliens who hang around weirdos.”

“Are you a weirdo, too, Marvus?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Hellz yea fam, but maybe not as much as u.”

“I am not!" you laughed, lightly swatting his forearm as you two walked towards where your instincts told you Stesla might be. “But seriously, thank you for getting me out of here."

“Don’t b thankin me just yet lil mama — maybe I got sum nefarious plans cookin in my think pan,” he teased and winked.

You chuckled. “I’m sure whatever you’re thinking of would be a million times preferable to being mobbed by frenzied trolls.”

“Ye tru. Lemme take u home, babe. Need me a lil bit of company in my sicknasty limo.”

“Oh, you didn’t come here with the other purplebloods?”

The corner of his grin turned up higher. “Sure did, but they ain’t who i’m lookin’ to take home tonite.”

You furrowed your brows at the strange phrasing — why would Marvus be so eager to take me back to my dilapidated hive instead of enjoying his friends’ wild company — but Stesla’s fashionable physique was in sight beside the restrooms, dabbing her face with a small powder puff while looking into a compact mirror. You called out to her in greeting, and she instantly perked up, hiding her cosmetics away in her purse before skipping up to you.

“OH MY GOODNESS DARLING THERE YOU ARE I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER GET TO YOU TONIGHT HOW ARE YOU DID YOU SEE THAT INCREDIBLE PAINTING MY IT WAS SIMPLY EXQUISITE I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THE MARVUS XOLOTO ACQUIRED IT — “

You practically pounced on her with a killer hug that would have knocked the air out of a human. But Stelsa was a force of nature in her own right, and as such, merely squeaked and hugged you back.

“I am feeling a little overwhelmed right now, Stelsa,” you confessed, murmuring into her chest before slinking out of her grasp to look at her. “I think I’m ready to leave now. Did you want to stay a little longer, or can I drop you off back home?”

“I SIMPLY CANNOT LEAVE JUST YET THERE IS STILL MUCH TO DISCUSS WITH REMELE AND SO MANY NEW POTENTIAL CLIENTS TO MEET HERE I WILL HAVE TO STAY BUT DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME PLEASE HURRY ON HOME AND REST YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED AFTER THAT BIDDING DEBACLE AND I SEE THAT A CERTAIN SOMEONE IS WAITING FOR YOU — “ Stelsa peered over the top of your head in the least discrete way possible. Unbeknownst to you, Marvus waved back. “MY OH MY IT’S A GOOD THING I MANAGED TO PRIMP YOU UP BEFORE THE PARTY JUST LOOK AT YOU GETTING LUCKY HMMM?”

Your mind had wandered during her monologuing, so it took you a moment for her last statement to shock you back into reality. “Th — that, that isn’t what’s happening!” you hissed in a quiet whisper, blushing brightly at her implication. “He’s just my ride home, don’t be preposterous. Anyway, are you sure you’ll manage on your own here? I’m worried about leaving you with all of these highbloods around. What if you get caught in another deadly moshpit or whatever?”

Stelsa giggled and placed her hands on her hips. “DON’T BE SILLY I CAN HANDLE MYSELF JUST FINE I DON’T WORK OUT FOR NOTHING YOU KNOW.” Oh, that’s right. You forgot Stelsa was ripped.

“I’ll trust you … but I’m not letting you go that easy!” You fished out your phone and quickly got to texting. “I’m going to let Tyzias know that I need to leave you here. And you better send me a message when you get home, or else I’ll go looking for you, and you know what happens when I have a mission in mind; things can either go horribly right or horribly wrong — “

“YES YES DARLING I WILL BE SURE TO DO SO THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A LOVELY FRIEND NOW DON’T KEEP YOUR OTHER FRIEND WAITING TOODLES AND BE SAFE!”

She urged you along before you could get another word in, and you nearly stumbled like a clumsy fool if not for Marvus catching your fall. “Reddy reddy, buddy?”

“Ready ready,” you breathlessly replied, graciously allowing him to lead you away hand-in-hand.

The crowd parted for the both of you on your way out. You caught a glimpse of a few glares and reddened eyes being thrown at you, and if you had a death wish, you might have stuck your tongue out at them. But you were a flimsy human with too much to lose now, so you stared straight ahead and focused on matching Marvus’s quick strides.

The quietness of the outside was jarring to your senses after enduring the loud music and boisterous socializing. Alternia's twin moons cast their colored rays onto your shimmering skin, lighting it up in a dazzling shine that could not meet its full potential under artificial light. Your vibrant glow must have caught Marvus's attention — he turned to look at you with widened eyes and paused his step. “Damn, lil mama,” he smoothly cooed, beckoning you into a twirl as he admired you from all angles. “Now I know I said earlier that u be lookin good an all dat, but dis is sum wild shit.”

You giggled. “It’s just the wicked glow of the Mirthful Messiahs watching over me,” you said and pointed to the sky with a smile. “Get it? Two moons, two prophets.”

“Amen, baby. The messiahs are errywhere and in errything,” he replied, guiding you towards the limo with an arm swung around your shoulders.

The driver was waiting patiently, bowing in respect as he opened the door for you. For a brief moment, you spared Lanque one final thought and wondered how his night had gone after your mini feud got cut short. But with Marvus hot on your heel as you clamored into the limo, you decided that your mental energy had better trolls to focus on.

[noona-clock]

A Prince for Christmas 👑🎄 - Part 8, Final Chapter

Genre: AU/Fluff

Pairing: Yunhyeong x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Did he... really just say that?

That... he thought the reason his girlfriend - his high school sweetheart - had gotten into an accident and not survived was so he could... find you?

You stepped away from him slowly, letting your arms fall gently to your sides as you let go of him.

He turned, his brow furrowed slightly when he saw your expression. But when he opened his mouth, presumably to ask if you were okay, you decided to beat him to it.

“Yunhyeong, what are we doing?” you asked quietly, shaking your head.

“...What do you mean? We’re... decorating my tree,” he chuckled.

“No, what are we doing? We both know I’m leaving tomorrow, so... why? What’s going on here?”

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly as he took a step toward you. But you took a step back, feeling a bundle of anxious nerves forming in your stomach.

“Y/N, I --”

“We can’t be anything serious,” you continued. “We just... we can’t.”

“I know, it sounds crazy, but... you’re really telling me you don’t feel some sort of connection between us?”

Of course, you did. Hadn’t you thought exactly that just yesterday? 

“Yes,” you admitted. “Yes, I -- I do. But... I mean, think about it.”

“I have thought about it,” he assured you, sounding a lot more confident than you felt at the moment. “And no matter what, I always end up coming back to knowing I want to be with you.”

“But I’m leaving tomorrow! To go back to my life that’s five hours away! And your life is here in Spruce.”

“Well, not for much longer --”

“I’m not letting you sign that contract.”

You had spoken before you could really think, and even you were surprised by your words. You honestly hadn’t acknowledged or even thought about the fact you would leave here without his signature.

But now you knew you were going to, and you would face the consequences at work, whatever they may be.

Yunhyeong gaped at you, looking utterly confused. 

“What?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“That bakery is your life,” you said, trying to swallow down the small lump of emotion now forming in your throat. “It helped you get through probably the most difficult time in your life, and I know how much you love it. I can see how much it means to you, how happy it makes you. I’m not taking that away from you.”

Even though you’d tried to make that lump of emotion go away, it had doubled in size, and tears were now softly blurring your vision.

Yunhyeong’s brow smoothed, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he stepped up to you yet again. But you didn’t avoid him this time, so he enveloped you in his arms, rubbing your back.

“I’m signing the contract,” he murmured.

“What?!” you cried, trying to pull away. “No, but --”

“I want to.” He brought a hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear which had escaped, much to your chagrin.

Well, now you’d gone from feeling guilty to feeling just plain confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I love my bakery, yes. You’re right. It has helped me through some very tough challenges. But it wasn’t my first choice. Remember? I told you. I’ve always wanted to move to a big city and start my own bakery. The shop here is my dad’s, and growing up... everyone expected me to be my dad. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I just wanted to be me. Yunhyeong. She wasn’t sure about it, so I booked a hotel for us one weekend a few hours away in the nearest city. Y’know, to show her how great it would be there. My dad asked me to take over the bakery at the last minute, so she went up first, and I told her I would meet her there.”

Your heart stopped and your breath caught in your throat as you choked out, “But... she never made it back.”

Yunhyeong dipped his head in the tiniest of nods to confirm your statement, biting his lip and avoiding your gaze for the time being.

“I felt so guilty. Like... I wasn’t supposed to leave here. Like it was the universe telling me to stay or something. So I took over the bakery because I... didn’t really have a choice anymore. Or at least that’s what it felt like.”

“But you’ve done it for five years,” you pointed out quietly. “Why now?”

Yunhyeong leaned in and pressed a somewhat desperate kiss to your lips before answering.

“Because of you. And I don’t just mean how I feel about you,” he told you, eyes back to searching yours. “I mean you showing up wanting to buy the bakery. It was the push I needed to finally pursue my dream.”

“So... why did you act like you didn’t want to sell?”

“Also because of you,” he chuckled. “Because I wanted to get to know you.”

You wanted to feel flattered or relieved or... something positive. But you were still worried and confused and anxious.

Obviously, Yunhyeong could see that clear as day on your face, so he continued on without you even asking him to.

“I haven’t been on a date since... her. That’s true,” he confirmed. “But it’s not like girls haven’t tried.”

You furrowed your brow in surprise, not expecting him to say something like that.

“I mean, come on,” he smirked. “A guy who looks like this and owns a bakery? Girls were asking me out all the time, despite the fact they knew what had happened. I just never accepted because... I was never interested. I didn’t want to move on yet.”

You waited on tenterhooks for him to continue, almost gulping nervously.

“And then I met you and your quiet authority and your independence and your Grinchiness and your soft heart you try so hard to hide.” He lifted his hands to cradle your cheeks, gazing dreamily into your eyes. “I could feel there was something different about you, and I... I just knew. It was time to be me again.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his, a saltier kiss than normal seeing as a few more tears had managed to roll down your cheeks.

And in the middle of that kiss...

You realized.

He’d just said some cheesy, romantic things to you.

And you didn’t feel like throwing up. You didn’t even feel like pretending to throw up.

Your stomach wasn’t roiling, but your heart was fluttering.

...You had found the right boyfriend.

But he still hadn’t said what he was going to do. How this was going to work out.

“Okay, so you’re signing the contract,” you breathed after you’d pulled away.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I’m signing the contract, and I’m using the money your company gives me to open up my own bakery in the city, like I’ve always wanted to. A fresh start.”

It sounded like a wonderful idea... you just had one question:

“Which city?”

Yunhyeong tried desperately to hide a smile as he searched your eyes. You knew he could tell you were more than curious (and a little desperate) to know his answer.

“What’s the name of the city where you live again?” he asked innocently.

A grin broke out onto your lips, and you practically threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him like you’d never hugged anyone before.

You decided to finally call Emily again the next morning, after you’d gotten one of the best sleeps of your life. Even though things really didn’t seem fully settled yet, you at least knew how Yunhyeong felt about you.

And you knew how you felt about him.

You loved him.

...No, just kidding.

Of course, you didn’t love him! It had barely been a week since you’d met him!

You did like him, though, and you knew you felt the same connection he’d talked about last night. You wanted to give your relationship a chance because... to be disgustingly honest, you had the feeling it could turn into something beautiful.

“So, been busy?” Emily asked curiously when she picked up your call.

“Yeah, kind of...”

“Look, I’m sorry if I came off too harsh the other day,” she apologized. “When I didn’t really believe you and made you question your feelings for this guy. It was wrong of me, even if I am a little skeptical.”

“I understand,” you grinned. “I would’ve been the same way. Especially knowing my track record with romance.”

A.K.A. you kind of hated it, and you kept your distance from potential boyfriends for weeks.

“I’m not there, though, so I have no right to judge. I’m sure he’s a wonderful guy.”

“He really is,” you gushed, though you tried not to sound too mushy. “You’ll... get to meet him, actually.”

“...I’ll what now?”

“Unlike that little plot we made up before I left, he is selling the bakery. It’s his father’s bakery, but his dream was to open his own. In a big city. So... he’s following his dream.”

“And... he’s moving here?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “In a few weeks.”

“Was this the city he’s always wanted to move to or...?”

“No,” you chuckled. “He’s moving there... because of me.”

“Y/N...” Emily cautioned.

“I know, but just hear me out. I really... I think he could be the right one. Last night, he told me he knew I was different the moment he met me, that there’s a connection between us. And I didn’t laugh awkwardly or roll my eyes, Em. I cried.”

“You what?!” she gasped.

“I know. A guy who tells me something like that but doesn’t make me sick to my stomach? Even you have to admit, that’s worth something.”

“I mean... you do have a point.”

“And I know it’s crazy that we literally just met, but he’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it for himself. He would still be packing up and leaving even if you had come here. He just might be going to a different city.”

“He’s not... going to just move in with you, right?” she asked nervously.

“No! Em, come on! I may be crazy, but I’m not dumb.”

“Just checking!! And I’m just looking out for you,” she pointed out.

“I know,” you smirked. “Thank you. I’m leaving in a few hours, so I’ll see you Monday, okay? Unless you want to get together over the weekend?”

“Uh... Y/N,” Emily chuckled. “Monday is Christmas Eve, and Sungjin and I are leaving to go visit my parents tomorrow morning, so I won’t see you until the week after next.”

“You’re gone the whole week?!” you cried.

“Well, yeah, a lot of people take the whole week off for Christmas,” she reminded you.

“Whatever. Maybe that’s why Boss likes me so much, because I never do,” you snorted. “All right, then. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Safe drive home, and... Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, yeah. You, too.”

When you arrived at the bakery, there was a surprising amount of people there. Almost like they knew you were coming in to pick up the contract and wanted to either witness it or protest it...

But you figured this was a small town, so word probably traveled pretty quickly. Even though you had no idea who would’ve told them, but oh well.

“Here you go,” Yunhyeong murmured, smiling slightly as he handed you the contract. You flipped through the pages just to be sure he’d signed everything, and once you were satisfied, you slid it into your bag.

You then stuck your hand out toward him to unofficially seal the deal.

“Congratulations,” you said with a soft grin. “You are now not the owner of this bakery. Once I turn in the contract to my boss, he’ll transfer the sale funds to your bank account.”

“And then I can get started on my new life,” he sighed.

Some of the townspeople broke your handshake so they could hug him, and you stepped out of the way to give them some room.

As you watched Yunhyeong hugging and assuring people everything was all right, you couldn’t help but think how your week here had definitely started like a cliche, cheesy, romantic Christmas television movie. But it certainly hadn’t ended like one. Quite the opposite, actually. 

Rather than staying here and helping Yunhyeong run the bakery which was still under his ownership, he had sold it and was now moving to you. Not with you, but you know what I mean.

Still, though... it was kind of weird how everything had worked out. You still were getting together with him, even if you hadn’t fallen in love (yet). And somebody still was moving, just not you.

So, really, the only cliche left was for you to find out Yunhyeong was a prince from some unknown foreign country.

You giggled to yourself just thinking about how ridiculous that was, but then you heard:

“We’re losing our Prince!”

Your head jerked back, your eyes immediately locking on Yunhyeong and the person who’d said that.

“I’m sorry, what?” you called out. “You’re losing who?”

“Our Prince!” the lady repeated. “He’s a Prince, don’t you know?”

...What the actual --

“My dad was known as the King of Baking,” Yunhyeong explained, obviously noticing the extremely befuddled and flustered look on your face. “So, naturally, I got the title the Prince of Baking. It’s silly.”

Oh, thank god. He wasn’t an actual prince. 

“Okay, got it,” you chuckled awkwardly.

That was a close one.

After all the hubbub had died down, Yunhyeong grabbed another chocolate peppermint cupcake for you and sat with you at one of the small tables.

“How does it feel?” you asked softly, digging your fork into the cupcake.

“Honestly, it feels pretty amazing. I should be scared about so much uncertainty - not knowing where I’m going to live, where my bakery will be - but... I’m not. I’m just excited.”

You smiled at your cupcake, not wanting to look him in the eye when you spoke these next words.

“Good. You shouldn’t be scared. Because you’ll have me.”

Yunhyeong reached out and covered your free hand with both of his.

“I know everything about that city. I’ll help you find everything you need.”

“Will you help me find a good place to get a Christmas tree next year?” he smirked.

“No.”

“What about an ice skating rink?”

“Sorry, can’t help you there.”

“Do you know of any good gingerbread baking competitions?”

You simply let out a soft chuckle, loading up your fork with a mound of cupcake and force-feeding him. He couldn’t keep teasing you if he couldn’t talk.

"Okay, serious question,” Yunhyeong said once he’d swallowed the bite.

“Serious answer,” you replied.

“...Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

You should’ve known this was coming, and... honestly, he did deserve an explanation.

“I don’t hate it,” you told him quietly, not wanting to bother anyone else with your life story. “I just... don’t understand the hype. My parents owned a year-round Christmas business growing up, and it was just too much. I got tired of being around it all the time, and... to be honest, they were so burned out by the time Christmas actually got here, they barely paid attention to me. I usually opened my presents by myself.”

Yunhyeong squeezed your hand, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” you shrugged.

“It’s like they didn’t really understand the true meaning of Christmas.”

“And what is the true meaning of Christmas?” you asked with a slight smirk.

“Being with the people you love. Spending time with them and being happy. That’s all.”

Your smirk faded a little, and you let out an emotionless chuckle. Yeah, they definitely hadn’t known the true meaning of Christmas.

...Oh, well. Nothing you could do about it now.

You took a bite of your cupcake to avoid talking about it any longer, and thankfully, Yunhyeong moved on to asking you about your favorite restaurants back home.

Once you’d finished, Yunhyeong took your plate, setting it on the counter before walking you to the door.

The two of you stood right outside the bakery, and you had to keep reminding yourself this definitely wasn’t the last time you would see each other. Not even close.

“So, you’re leaving now, I guess?” Yunhyeong asked softly.

You nodded, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and trying not to get awkward.

“I would walk back to Nick and Holly’s with you, but...”

“No, it’s fine. Your customers need you more than I do. And besides...” You took a step closer, lifting a hand and resting it on his chest. “We’ll see each other soon.”

Yunhyeong grinned before leaning and capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“Yeah,” he whispered against your lips. “We will.”

You let the kiss linger for several more moments before pulling away, letting out a soft sigh.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” he requested as you took a couple steps backward.

“I will.”

“And... be very, very careful driving back.”

You paused, your brow furrowing at his words. You nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

He smiled wistfully at you as you began to turn around to start your journey back to the Bed and Breakfast. But then he called out one more time.

“Hey, Y/N!” 

“Yes?”

“...Merry Christmas.”

You simply rolled your eyes and held back a smirk.

One Year Later

“Gee, it’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

You smiled at Yunhyeong as you let the bakery door close behind you and shook the snow from your shoulders. Every time it snowed, you were still reminded of your first kiss just over a year ago.

“Hey, you,” you murmured as you came behind the counter, greeting your boyfriend with a kiss. “How are things?”

You always stopped by on your way home from work since Yunhyeong’s bakery closed just before your shift ended. You helped him close up shop and then you walked home together.

Yunhyeong had found an apartment nearby when he first moved, but his lease was almost up, so... he was now in the process of moving into your apartment.

“It was pretty busy today, actually,” he sighed, leaning in for one more kiss. “A lot of orders for Christmas cookies. I never knew people in the city were so lazy when it comes to baking Christmas cookies.”

“We’re not lazy!” you chuckled. “We’re just busy, and we have tiny ovens. Plus... you can make them so much better than anyone else I know.”

He blushed a little, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him yet again.

A year ago, you’d certainly had a crush on Yunhyeong, but now you could safely say you were fully blown in love with the guy.

Every day you spent with him was better than the last, and you kept on finding new ways to fall for him. He was still cheesy and kind of old-fashioned, and he still loved Christmas... but there was absolutely no one else in the world you’d rather be with.

“Ready?” you asked, stepping away and raising your eyebrows. “I don’t know how much moving we can get done tonight, though, with the snow and all.”

“Well...” A smirk tugged at Yunhyeong’s lips. “We could take a break from moving and just have a movie cuddle session.”

“...A Christmas movie?”

“Yes,” he beamed.

You let out a frustrated groan, rolling your eyes so far back in your head they could very well have fallen out.

But... you still said, “Fine.”

Because you loved Yunhyeong, and Yunhyeong loved Christmas. You still didn’t (though Yunhyeong was trying to get you to actually talk to your parents to help you get over it), but you loved him more than you didn’t love Christmas.

And, to be honest, some of the movies were kinda good.

“You’re the best,” Yunhyeong praised, grabbing your waist and pulling you in so he could smother your face with kisses. “The most wonderful, the most fantastic, the most incredible.”

“Stop!” you laughed, your eyes and nose scrunched as his lips attacked your cheeks and nose and chin and forehead.

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, “Never.”

“Okay, well stop long enough so we can go home,” you chuckled.

“All right, come on.” He took your hand, walking with you to the door. He turned off the lights, locked the door behind him, and headed on home. Well, it was still your home, technically. But it would be his soon. It would the both of yours. Together.

Tagging my fellow Yunhyeong stans @zhangjingyou and @hahasunqwoonz as well as @cramelot , @peach-sm , @lafilleestmorte , @digitalizeduniqueness , @cinnamoonbunbin  , @infiredbypepi , @mark-tuan-and-namjoon-lover to let them know this has been posted! Thank you so much for all the support you’ve given this little series of mine! I appreciate every single one of your comments and reblogs! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

-Admin B

Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

[eng-hypnosismic]

[Eng sub/translation of Buster Bros!!! Drama Track 1]

Ichiro: What the hell, so much noise...and I’ve waited so long to read this new light novel.

Jiro: Niichan, are you making a new team? Please, let me join!

Saburo: Ichinii, sorry to bother you! If you let an idiot like Jiro into your team, you’ll ruin your reputation; so please, let me join no matter what! I’ll make your name great!

Jiro: Saburo! Who’re you calling an idiot? Say it one more time, I dare you.

Saburo: I’ll say it as many times as it takes to get it through your thick skull: you’re an idiot. So much so that you’ll even grab my collar while I’m still talking, like an idiot would.  

Jiro: You twisted little shit—let me teach you some manners for Ichinii’s sake.

Saburo: (sigh) Good grief...Ichinii, a moment, please? Seems like this idiot only matures in his body, not his head.

Ichiro: Oh, shut up. Aren’t I always telling you that brothers should get along? Anyhow, I’m not letting you guys join my team.

Jiro & Saburo: : Eh? Why not?!

Ichiro: Hypnosis Mic battles aren’t as easy as you might think.

Jiro:  But, if we were together— // Saburo: E-Even so...

[Phone rings]

Ichiro:(sigh) I’m gonna answer that. Be quiet.

Ichiro (on the phone): Hello? ...Oh it’s been a while, Ramuda, How’re you doing?    Haha, same as ever, I see. So? What can I do for you?  

Jiro (whisper): A runt like you couldn’t help Niichan even if you tried. He’s only rejecting us because of you! Niichan is so kind—he’s worried about a brat like you.

Saburo: (sigh) Oh, dear...your idiocy can’t be helped. I can only  pity you. Ichinii is kind, indeed, because he’s worried about someone as useless as you.

Ichiro(on the phone): See ya.

Ichiro: You’re fighting again just right after I told you not to. Listen to what I say, can you?

Jiro:  Well, Niichan, that’s ‘cuz—

Saburo:  B-but, Ichinii…

Ichiro: Jiro. Saburo. Don’t “cuz” and “but” me like a wimp. 　

Jiro & Saburo: (Shook)

Ichiro: You guys are always—

[Phone rings]

Ichiro: (sigh) Hello? There’s a whole bunch of rare callers today, huh...oh, no! It’s nothing! Just talking to myself. Long time no see, Jakurai-san. What’s up?

Ichiro(in the background): yep ,yep

Saburo: (whispering) It’s your fault Ichinii is upset. You better apologize to him.

Jiro: What the hell—why am I the one who has to apologize? It’s your fault, Saburo!

Saburo: (whispering) Be quiet! Ichinii is on the phone! Really, idiots just don’t know when to shut up.

Jiro: Is that the only word you know? I better not hear any complaints when I beat your ass!

Saburo: Ha! You only ever talk like a second-rate mook. I can’t help but laugh at how pathetic you are!

Jiro: I’ll send you flying!

Saburo: Come at me!

[Both got hit]

Ichiro:Cut the fucking crap already!

Jiro:  It hurts, Niichan...

Saburo: Uu…! Ichinii, so mean…!

Ichiro: You really want to be in my team so bad?

Jiro & Saburo: Naturally!

Ichiro: Well then, let me give you a test.

Jiro & Saburo: We’ll do anything!

Ichiro:Good. I have here two new requests; get it done for me.

Saburo: What kind of “request” is it?

Jiro:  No wonder you are a runt! Everything Niichan says is absolute. Don’t ask, just do everything you’re told and there won’t be a problem.

Ichiro:That’s enough, Jiro. I’m happy you trust me, but don’t trust me blindly. How many times do I have to tell you?

Jiro: Sorry, Niichan...

Saburo: Hahaha, stupid, you’re in trouble!

BB: Saburo, you too. How many times do I need to tell you before you learn how to respect your brother?

Saburo: S-Sorry, Ichinii...

Ichiro: (sigh) You two will be working for two of my ex-teammates: Amemura Ramuda and Jinguji Jakurai.

Jiro & Saburo : Former Dirty Dawg?!

Ichiro: That’s right. Jiro, you’ll be handling Jakurai-san’s case. His friend is worried about a stalker, so find this stalker girl and put an end to it. Here’s the info Jakurai-san knows about her. Start with these.

Jiro: Mhm! Roger that, Niichan!

Ichiro: I’m counting on you. Saburo, you’ll take care of Ramuda’s request. He wants more information on this guy Yumeno Gentaro, so dig up whatever dirt you can. Here’s his info.

Saburo: Ichinii, please leave it to me! I won’t disappoint you!

Ichiro: (laughs) Sure, I’m counting on you. If you can finish these requests, then maybe I’ll think about letting you two on the team.

Jiro & Saburo: (makes super happy and hopeful noise) I’m heading out!

Ichiro: Those guys’ cases are not easy to deal with at all. For sure they’ll come home crying unable to finish the job. It’d be nice if they’d give up just like that.

[some time later]

Jiro:  Niichan, I found the stalker lady Jakurai-san was looking for.

Saburo:  Ichinii, whatever Ramuda wants to know about Yumeno Gentarou, I got it.

Ichiro: Seriously? (unidentifiable noise)

Jiro: I was faster.

Saburo: I was faster.

Ichiro: I only sent you out today, and you’re already done?

Jiro & Saburo: MHM!

Ichiro: Well, let’s see what you got. You first, Jiro.

Jiro: That stalker woman he’s looking for is pretty dangerous. There have been reports of her going after several hosts in Kabuki-chou with a knife. The cops are after her, so she’s been hiding who-knows-where. It was difficult, but I got tipped that she’s staying in Room 1015 of some cheap motel on the outskirts of Shinjuku Division.

Ichiro: You found someone even the cops are still looking for?

Jiro:  Of course! I’m Niichan’s little brother after all! Even though I don’t have as many friends as you, I worked really hard to network with people from other divisions just like you did. This gangster guy from Shinjuku Division actually helped me out with his information agency.

Ichiro: Hahaha! Jiro, that’s awesome.  

(Jiro made happy noise, Saburo made jealous noise)

Saburo:Ichinii, may I report now?

Ichiro: Oh, yes please.

Saburo: I’ve organized all the information on Yumeno Gentaro here.

Ichiro: Holy shit! You gathered so much in just one day.

Saburo: It’s nothing, really! I just happened to find this stuff on the deep web. And, to be thorough, I met with one of Yumeno Gentaro’s acquaintances to factcheck. There’s no doubt about any of it!

Ichiro: Just by a glance I can already see all your main points sorted and organized clearly. It’s easy to read.   

Saburo: Um, could you, pat my...er, thank you very much!

Ichiro:(patta patta)  Saburo, good job.

Saburo: (satisfied noise)

Ichiro: Let me get these back to our clientele. Gimme a sec.

Jiro:  Well, then. Since my assignment was harder, I win.

Saburo: You’re kidding, right? I’m the winner here. My report was clear and organized, when you only gave him an oral report. I even gave him a proper evaluation of all my findings. This was a job; I obviously deserve more praise.

Jiro:  Ha, people who are less confident tend to speak more. Look at you, just chattering cuz you are afraid of losing to me.

Saburo: (slow clap) Hahaha, how imaginative. Kudos to that, Jiro. Have a round of applause.

Jiro:  Hahaha, Saburo, what a runt. Trying so hard it’s incredible, I just have to compliment you.

[cynical laughter and slow clap]

Ichiro: Wow, that’s great! You guys are applauding for each other, that’s how brothers are supposed to be. (pat heads/hug them both) You guys are growing up so fast. That’s my little brothers!

Saburo: It’s such a honor to be praised like that! ...Though it could be obvious, who’s the winner? Me or Jiro?

Jiro: Niichan, of course it’s me!

Ichiro: Winner? I never said anything like that.

Jiro & Saburo : Eh?

Ichiro: I only said I was testing you, not that it was a competition or anything.

Jiro:  Then, between us, who would you choose to join your team?

Ichiro: Oh, I see. I never thought of using these tasks to decide whatsoever. But well…

Saburo: But well…?

Ichiro: To be honest, I never expected that you two would be able to complete the mission. But you guys got it done with amazing speed.

(Blissful noises from Jiro and Saburo)

Ichiro:Therefore, I’m going to take you guys seriously. Take this.

Jiro:  Um, Ichinii, what’s this mic for ?

Ichiro: Show me your skills.

[Hypmic on sfx]

Saburo: Gotcha. Ichinii, please let me go first.

[Music starts]

Saburo:

Who are you calling “runt”   

It’s now or never

Don’t look down on the brat

My flow is the best

It’s true I am the youngest

But that’s just a matter of timing

Always looking up and up and up  

To Big Bro, let me be your back up

Hey it’s not fallacy

It’s reasoning

With me here,

No troubles come near  

[Music ends]

Ichiro: Good job. Those lyrics are just like you, Saburo.

Saburo: (gasp)

Jiro: Listen to mine next,  Niichan!

[Music]

Jiro:

Anytime Big bro needs a hand,

Will be there soon as I can

I shall be your lance  

Just gimme a chance

To prove to the world my stance

I know I am quite inexperienced I admit

But from now here, will make you proud in a bit

Check it, one-two-three-four (1)

I am Jiro the middle, the second son, the best son

[/Music]

Ichiro: Very powerful flow, and clean rhyme. I’m impressed.

Jiro: (happy noise)

Ichiro: It’s true you guys can rap, to some extent. However, Hypnosis Mic battles aren’t all fun and games. If you can withstand my own rap under the Hypnosis Mic, then I’ll let you on the team.

Jiro & Saburo : Yes!

[Hypmic sfx, music]

Ichiro:

Ai yo, what can’t be taken back (2)

That’s WORD

Spit it, the call of the soul

That’s WAR

Holding onto guns what can you change?

Taking whatever you want is good enough for you? You stupid? (3)

This is a new era in which

Believe in speech

And this mic to your eardrums it reach

Hypnotize  

Change the future with this rhyme,

get the world

Everybody raise your voice

[/music]

Jiro & Saburo: (suffering noises)

Jiro: That’s just like Niichan...since it’s us, he didn’t go at it full power, but it’s still so oppressive.

Saburo: Ichinii is just as strong as I expected…! But, that’s exactly why I want to become a man like him!

[hypmic off sfx]

Ichiro: I knew you guys still weren’t ready.

Ichiro: (shocked)

Jiro I was almost a goner...

Saburo:  I want to become a man like Ichinii.

Ichiro: hahahahahahaha

Jiro: T-This means...

Saburo: We can join the team?x

Ichiro:Nope, no way.

Jiro & Saburo: (shook)

Ichiro:As I said, if you can withstand it, I will be the one to invite you into the team.

Jiro & Saburo : (hopeful noises)

Ichiro: Jiro, Saburo. What do you think of making a team with me? Let’s change the world together.

Jiro & Saburo : Please take care of us!

One-two-three-four here in japanese is read as “Ichi-ni-no-san-shi” , which is a pun of Ichinii’s (big brother’s) praise/compliments

Og phrase is “吐いた唾は飲み込むな”, which literally translates to something like “you can’t drink what you spit”. Apparently it’s a line yakuza/delinquents use to diss opponents during fights. It a metaphor of how you can’t take back your words/actions, so be careful with what you say/do. Source:https://detail.chiebukuro.yahoo.co.jp/qa/question_detail/q1190821391

Those two lines are directed at Samatoki I think. In Samatoki’s solo there were sounds of guns and also he said that he “takes/seizes whatever as long as he likes it”

[kizardofkoz]

The Eternal Pursuit of Emptiness

There I stood on top of the butte, with the closest of my people, and we humbly looked out over the sprawling desert. The landscape was like pieces of thrown pottery in fantastic and misshapen forms - rich shades of terra cotta, crimson and rust, and obviously, tears couldn’t help but fall, blazing small trails through the dust on my face. I couldn’t believe how fortunate I was. 

I was able to see this fraction of the kaleidoscope of nature. 

To be away with some of my favorite humans while I got to safely leave my absolute dearest ones at home with their grandparents. 

And I soaked in that dry west wind, whipping around us in warm gusts like ocean waves, leaves, and racing thoughts. 

My favorite three: 

1.) I call him my favorite. The man whose ring I wear, the father of my children, he yins my yang, tickles my brain and sometimes, when the timing is just right and we aren’t too tired, it isn’t too late or there isn’t something competing for our time on Netflix, we’ll occasionally play a round of some Chesterfield Rugby (PS - I just did a bit of a dive on some innuendos and my goodness. That is a really fun use of time. I can’t even write some of these but I am literally laughing right now. My mom reads this, you guys. And while I’ve [maybe?] worn her down a little on the curse words, I can’t go all in with the crass. 

Okay, fine. Just one: Harpooning the salty longshoreman. 

Fine, two: Nurtling. (I have no idea.) 

But I also feel it is unfair to not share Taking Grandma to Applebee’s? 

I’ve gotten off topic.

My other two loves on this trip are 

2.) My best girlfriend who I have had the honor of watching go through some of the best and absolute saddest experiences that I have humbly witnessed a human endure. And she navigated it all, and continues to go through life with a steadiness, focus, and motivation that is inspiring, still and sparkling. She has helped me move apartments, paint new walls when we moved into our first house, and paint the baseboards of those same walls on her morning off when we were selling that same house. She is fiercely dependable, loyal, she is the best damn person to travel with as she is equal parts responsible, adventurous and is a Type-A likes to research and plan things kind of gal where I’m more of the Type-B, let’s just dive in and see how we land type. We once held hands and jumped off the neighbors high dive on their dock on a girls lake trip very late one night. We’ve been to countless shows together. Gotten tattoos together. She’s one of the first people to hold my babies after they have been born and I can always count on her to order dessert. Her closet is the kind people pine after and she makes the best damn chocolate chip cookie you’ve ever eaten. She’s also married to my third person. 

3.) He is silly and kind and we have a podcast that we will some day launch, divulging our joint fascination with spooky things that make us light up and nervous laugh and open another beer as he tries to convince me that Yeti’s exist while I try to convince him to sing in church. We once started the idea of a band called “The Huggers and the Cryers” after drinking too much brandy on one of the very few New Years Eve’s that I was neither pregnant nor nursing a baby. Because he and I hug easily and love to cry. 

And don’t worry, I was back at babying the following year. Did you think I was going to go over 2 years and not have another boy? (Spoiler alert - NOT ANY MORE!!! And like, really for real, real. Grateful for IUD’s (and Steve’s eventual vasectomy) and for the four hilarious, adorable, wild, curious, loving and messy pups that we have now. 

But we have to stop. 

It’s like animal print. 

You have to find that fine balance between tasteful and too much. And unfortunately, a lot of times, a person doesn’t realize it is too much animal print, but everyone else does. This is my way of inviting an intervention if you see me starting to itch in the next few months. This is usually when we start Playing with the Box the Kid Came In (you guys, there are so damn many) so, you all have a responsibility, okay? Okay!

I have 100% gotten off topic.

Anyways.

The four of us did a smaller, summit hike on our last morning in Sedona this past month. (All of the couples of our closest tribe were invited to [crash] another couple’s 10-year anniversary trip. Three of us couples were able to swing it. And it was glorious. And very, very dry. And responsibly alcoholy.) 

So I was sitting near the edge of this butte and allowed myself to absorb the moment and then a vision came to me. (Yes, God gives me visions at times. And I also hear God at others. And I know how this makes me sound, and I have also quit caring because I believe if you are blessed enough to experience gifts like these, then you should be brave enough to admit it.) And in my minds’ eye, I saw a big teardrop shape, that was beautifully empty. 

Clear. Serene. Vacant.

And I exhaled and prayed and breathed deeply. I knew what God was telling me. That empty teardrop was empty of all worldly possessions and distractions, and in their absence, full and content. It was God in me. And I saw how I try to fill this tear drop with *all the things*; New siding, new shirts, new speakers and shoes, and magazines and schedules and technology and sports teams and equipment for sports teams and how these things pile on each other - at times inadvertently and other times compulsively and intentionally - and they become the main focus of my mind and my heart until they fill up and pile into this precious teardrop and the only part of the emptiness left is the space between all of the things.

The only part that is open and available for God, for contentment, or peace, is the space between.

The remainder.

And it is jagged and small and inconsistent.

Ironically, I try to complete my life with the things that I think make me happy, fulfilled and satisfied. Yet they are the exact things that end up taking away time, space and energy from the peace and contentment that is only truly felt when there is the empty space and quiet to focus on God.

So I exhaled and released it all. 

And I felt these earthly desires disappear and dissipate as I reclaimed that space, my sacred emptiness, that is so important to me. That is so important to God. And it was so easy, there on top of the warm rocks, accompanied by cactuses and bushes and my people and vortexes.

It is not easy, however, to empty myself in real life.

I tend to equate emptiness with negativity. 

Void of love, experience, calories, energy, connection.

But this spiritual cleansing is what I have needed for so long, and I forget to prioritize it. To protect it. 

This is the emptiness that allows space for *just being*. Breathing. For feeling God’s presence and consequently, the lack of desire for all of the other things that I constantly seek to fill that emptiness. 

A hollow holiness.

An exhale.

In church on Sunday our pastor spoke of spiritual vulnerability and the importance of confession. 

Ho.ly. Shit.

Where does one start?

Selfishness - in my marriage, in my relationships, with my time, with my children, with our money, with friendships, with my food and drink even. 

Materialism - wanting and focusing on all of the tangible, unimportant *things* of the world like new light fixtures, workout clothing, wall paper, throw pillows, hats, patio furniture, the perfect summer jean, the perfect front door mat, more peel and stick wallpaper, vacuums, planters, kids clothing, kids shoes, running shoes, house shoes, *let’s get some shoes*, drapes, ceiling fans, office chairs, boujee hand soaps, expensive skin care, swim suits & pianos. 

Gossip - Why is this so tempting??? I really try not to. I don’t really think I do. Much. And gossip isn’t like what it was when we were in middle or high school. But how tempting is it when there is a conversation about the neighborhood happening and you have hot insider information on why there isn’t a sidewalk on the neighboring street? How does one just go about their day and not share this with the person ringing up their fro-yo? I did not. Yet. Likely.

Lack of faith - Why does God keep expecting me to use faith if we both know I have it and used it last year?

Hypocrisy - Vomit. Where do we begin? Ughhkckhgh.

I would rather listen to podcasts about murder than the bible or deepening my faith. 

I focus way too much on my body and physical appearance.

I focus too much on how I want everybody to like me and if I feel like someone isn’t a Kiley-person, I obsess over it and get weird and needy and in my head and I shouldn’t really care if this person four rings out of my circle really cares about me and finds me kind, selfless and charming. But hopefully she thinks I’m a good dresser? *I AM ROLLING MY OWN EYES SO HARD RIGHT NOW*

I focus way too much on money and how we don’t have *enough-ish* even though we absolutely, 100% do have enough (non-ish) and will I ever be content and secure in this area?

I focus on what other people are doing with their time, money, lives and am left feeling jealous, angry and exhausted.

I focus on all of the things that take up residency in my teardrop, and I pray for God to take them away. For God to please forgive me for putting so much energy toward the unimportant instead of focusing the things God really wants for me:

Love. 

Self Acceptance.

Peace. 

Creativity. 

Meaningful relationships.

Connection with the divine.

Connection with my children.

More God.

Less stuff.

Less stress.

Emptiness. 

Contentment.

Enlightenment.

*Someone spent some time in the desert, can you tell?*

So I confess all of these things, yet again, to God, and to you all. And I pray that God will help me remember my desire for emptiness. To remember the importance, the value and treasure of emptying myself so I can fill it up with God’s love. With contentment. With peace.

So I can have extra time and energy to focus on the important things.

Like the eternal pursuit of emptiness.

Or for my husband and I to get to know each other better. In the biblical sense.

A terrifying and beautiful hike that sealed friendships in gold and red rock dust. We followed this 3-4 hour hike with breakfast and beers at a local, hole in the wall diner and it was my favorite meal of the entire weekend. And cheapest. I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVEN’T UNPACKED MY CRYSTALS YET!!!

Here’s my people. The hubs, and best friends Nicole & Brian. I don’t care if they don’t want their names shared. We have a constant google calendar invite to go to visit Big Sur every fall. We just keep putting it off but it makes me smile when I have to go to October in my calendar and book something.:) Some day.

I did yoga on the top of this thing like a gosh damn stereotypical basic B. But it was wonderful. But I also felt if I looked up during any balancing poses I would fall over, roll off the top and die. So I decided to look down a live. I’m a mom now so I make different decisions than I used to. 

This is just an awesome photo of summer. This was a couple weekends ago. We live down the street from the guy who used to be our entertainment lawyer for our old band. Now we have playdates on Friday nights and order pizza and drink craft beefs and our kids play together. And it’s awesome.

And this is just Keps eating pizza while getting wet from the general mist of the hose and water fights going on around him. I love this photo so much.

Surfs up, friends.

[ladygiselasencen]

@honorablescythecurie

it’s 1672 words long btw,,, please don’t like or rb ty!!! <3

Leo couldn’t understand what was going on. Why he’d been made to sit in the backseat, why Sammie had stood outside for almost two minutes after he’d gone in, why the car ride had just seemed… off.

Ever since Sammie’s arrival less than a week ago, Gina had seemed different. It wasn’t a bad different, per se, but it was a side of her that Leo had never seen before. He wasn’t sure if he was the only one who noticed, but he hoped he wasn’t.

As he sat down at the greasy table Andre had saved for them, he put his worries out of his mind. They didn’t matter now. Gina would be there, sure, but it wouldn’t just be her and Sammie. Mally and Andre were going to be there, so Leo wouldn’t be alone. Plus, he might be able to ask the other two if they’d noticed the shift in Gina’s personality as well.

“What’s fresh!” he said to Andre as Sammie joined them. “Gina’s just parking, she’ll be right in.”

“Not too much. I didn’t order yet, figured I’d wait for you guys.” He pulled out his phone. “Mally’s almost here. We can wait for her.”

“Hey, Andre.” Sammie’s voice was gentle and soft, a total shift from how she’d been in the car. To say Leo was confused was an understatement. Sure, Sammie was typically more subdued, but this total flip seemed unprecedented. Had something happened? Had he caused it?

His questions remained unanswered as the bells above the door jingled. Gina and Mally walked in together, Gina explaining, “We ran into each other in the parking lot across the street,” The newcomers sat down in two of the vacant wooden  chairs. “You guys wanna go up and order?”

“Sure,” Leo and Andre stood up. Sammie, he noticed, stayed where she was, smiling at Mally. Although he desperately wanted to, he decided not to say anything of it, and instead headed up to the counter with Andre.

“Yo, what is up with girls?” he asked, glancing back at the table. “Did you notice anything?”

“What? Uh, no, I didn’t see anything,” Andre said as he dug through his wallet. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Huh.” There were a lot of words one could use to describe Andre, but Leo never would have included flustered on that list.

“Is something wrong?” Leo pressed.

Andre snapped out of his searching state. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just looking for Susan.” He whipped out a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar. “I thought I lost her.”

The coin gleamed in the dim light of the shop. Andre had found it in a jar of coins at his house years ago, he’d told Leo, and he’d polished it up and put it in a separate pocket of his wallet. What seemed odd to Leo was that there was no way for Susan to get lost. The pocket had a small zipper, and it was separate from the change pocket. Andre’s dismissal made no sense, but Leo didn’t press more.

Everyone seemed off today, and Leo couldn’t understand why. Gina forcing him to sit in the back, Sammie’s mood shift, the likely lie Andre had told him. At least Mally seemed…as normal as she could get. Even across the cafe, Leo could hear her conversations above the quiet chatter of every table closer to him. Mally’s quiet was most people’s average. But what good did a normal Mally do if everyone else was acting strange?

Leo was so lost in thought that he wasn’t even sure he ordered, but by the time he rejoined reality he had a hot chocolate in his hands, indicating that he must have ordered. However, it wasn’t his drink status that brought him back, but instead someone snapping at him.

“Hey, blockhead. You in there?” Mally was snapping her fingers not two inches from his nose. “Yoo-hoo! Someone asked you a question!”

“Get outta my face,” he said as he swatted her hand away.

“No. Gina asked you a question, you dumbass. Answer her.”

“Uh, what was the question?”

“Oh my-”

“What did I do?” Leo cried, exasperated.

“Doesn’t matter!” Gina said as exasperatedly as Leo. “I said, are we doing anything after this? Or just hanging here?”

“I- uh, I’m not- I mean, why are you asking me?” he stammered. Pulling out his phone, he realised they’d been there almost an hour.

“Andre has work, and Sammie and I gotta get home soon. We weren’t planning on doing anything else, were we?” The annoyance in Gina’s tone couldn’t match the anger and frustration that was apparent in her eyes. Last night when they were texting, she had suggested they go downtown after getting coffee, but Leo decided it was best if he didn’t bring it up.

“No, this was it. If you guys have to go, then go.” He wasn’t sure what had happened, but as Gina, Sammie, and Andre said their goodbyes, he stayed seated.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked Mally after a moment. “Gina’s acting weird, Sammie’s acting strange, Andre brushed me off with what I think was a lie? I don’t get it.”

She took a drink of her nearly-empty water bottle and sighed. “You just don’t get it at all, do you?” The corners of her mouth had turned up into a small smile. “I knew you were oblivious, but this is a new level.”

Mally turned her head just enough that she was facing Leo. “Can you connect the dots yourself, or do you need me to hold your hand?”

Leo wasn’t sure what expression his face had, but clearly, it was a look of confusion, because Mally just sighed again.

“Of course you need me to walk you through all of it.” She paused for a long moment before saying, “Gina has a crush on Sammie, and it’s painfully obvious. Sammie has a crush on Gina, but it’s not as evident. There’s some other stuff going on with Sammie that I shouldn’t get into, but whatever. If you just watch them for a minute, the body language of those two, plus the way they act? Please. It’s obvious.”

Leo sat in stunned silence. That was why Gina had been acting strange? And Sammie…he had to admit that something had seemed a bit off about her too.

“So wait, Gina and Sammie like each other?” He remembered that Gina had said something about that once, liking boys and girls, but it still didn’t make sense to Leo. Besides, she’d said it in middle school, and it hadn’t mattered then. A lot of people were dating, but not Gina or Leo. It was still the same old Gina, and he was still the same old Leo. It had never resurfaced until… now, apparently.

“Yeah, that can happen.” Mally looked at him very pointedly. “You do know I’m a lesbian, right? And I dunno about Sammie, but she seems like one too. Gina’s bisexual, which is… without getting into the complicated discussion about transphobia, it basically means she is attracted to both boys and girls. It’s a bit more in-depth than that, but that’s an extremely watered-down definition.”

“Wait- you’re a lesbian?” He knew that wasn’t what he should be focusing on, but the words escaped his lips before he could stop them.

“I literally told you guys that in fall of freshman year,” she deadpanned. “But that’s not what the issue is right now. Right now it’s about Sammie and Gina. They’re smitten with each other and neither one seems to notice that the other clearly is as well. It’s embarrassing, really.”

“Uh, yeah,” Leo said. “Right- they need to, uh, hang out? Or go on a date? I’m not sure?”

“They need to hang out, yes, but they’re doing that right now. Gina gave you a ride over, right? She left you here with no way home. The pair of ‘em were going to Gina’s, I think. I’m gonna see if I can push them along, maybe, but your best bet is just to not say anything about a relationship. At all. It’ll backfire, trust me.”

Mally’s stoicism had quickly turned to enthusiasm, and she seemed almost breathless. Leo wasn’t sure how he was meant to interpret all of this. “So just...don’t say anything?”

“Yeah, that’s it. By the way, do you need a ride home? Gina kinda dipped without you.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be great. And uh, what was Andre acting all weird?” he asked as he stood up and started gathering the trash left on the table.

“He was? I didn’t notice,” Mally replied as she grabbed her lanyard off the table. “Here, put the garbage in this empty cup, we’ll toss it when we leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “Don’t brush me off. What’s up?”

“Nothing! Really!” She avoided his gaze, turning to stack up the napkins they hadn’t used.

“That’s bullshit. What is going on?” When she further averted her gaze, he became upset. What was so important that she couldn’t give him a straight answer?

“Mallory Lemmon, you tell me right now.”

“I can’t!” she cried. “He made me promise. He’ll tell you if he wants to. Now, do you want a ride or not?”

Leo took a step back. It wasn’t often that Mally acted like this, so it stood to reason that maybe something really was wrong with Andre. Then again, he knew he couldn’t press more, or he’d lose his ride home.

“Yeah, a ride would be great. Let’s go,” he said, already heading towards the door. He tossed the garbage as he left the building, and stood in the same spot Sammie had barely an hour and a half before. He’d thought it was strange, but now he knew; to stop and stand is to think, to mull over the events that have happened, or will be. Leo knew what had happened, but not what would come. All he knew was that he needed to hope for the best.