#my hair loss is actually very alarming to me because before it was fine but now?

[zorkaya-moved]

when i'll be back in russia, i have to go to the doctor about my hair. ah. :')

[tiktokitssinoclock]

Comforting you after a Breakup- The Valorant Guys (p.I)

For the past few months, I've been talking to a close friend over Snapchat about a guy I like and found out last night she showed him everything I said. He handled it very well and rejected me so sweetly, so I'm not even terribly upset on that front. I'm just really sad someone I trusted would betray me like that. This is very self-serving so my apologies, but writing it has made me feel eons better <3

SFW // Minors and ageless blogs, DNI // You will be blocked

Sova

The poor man thought for sure someone you loved had died

He noticed how every time you left your room, you'd look like a zombie

Hair messy, dark circles to the max, eyes still red and puffy from crying, etc.

When he asks around the protocol to try and figure out what happened, most of the guy agents seemed just as clueless as he was

Your closer lady friends, though, like Jett and Raze, just kinda shook their heads and told him to give you some space

He wasn't a fan of that approach, though, because in his opinion, no one should have to grieve alone

Sova decided to go to your room with a box of tissues and planned to talk to you about it, perhaps also remind you that you're allowed to take a short leave for bereavement if necessary

Although it took some major convincing, you finally let him into your room, the messy state of your usually clean space alarming him

Once you were both seated on the foot of your bed, he offered you the box

“I know dealing with loss is never easy, but you don’t have to hole up alone. We’re always here to listen.”

You blinked in surprise before giving him a watery laugh

You were touched by the gesture but explain that no, no one passed away, you just got broken up with

“Oh. Oh, I thought- I’m so sorry.”

“I still think this was very sweet of you, Sasha. Everything just... kinda sucks right now, you know?”

While he was relieved no one was dead, it still bothered him to see you so upset

He decided right then and there that he was going to help you feel better, starting first by cleaning your room

You initially protested as he walked about with your trash can in tow, picking up the trash he found here and there

By the time he started hanging up the laundry you neglected to even fold, though, you accepted you weren’t shaking him that easily and begrudgingly helped him clean

Afterwards, he had you put on your favorite show and hung out with you, letting you lean into his shoulder when you got a little teary-eyed and stroking his hand soothingly over your hair

Quality time was just what you needed to pull yourself together, and he was willing to give it to you as long as you needed

Yoru

You thought you were doing well at hiding how upset you really were, which was quite the feat

Especially since getting dumped over text really fucking blows

But the other agents weren't clueless, especially Yoru

He noticed how your usual spark seemed to dim- you weren't kicking your feet while sitting in your chair, you weren't animatedly talking to everyone about this and that, the usual banter between him and you during missions had all but dried up

Something was off

He really didn't like that

One night before you could run off to your room right after you finished training, he caught up with you in the hallway

He practically demanded that you spill the beans on whatever was going on, and after a few minutes of pressing, you finally did

You showed him the texts and he scrolled through them, his eyes rolling as he skimmed over the exchange

"Being a dick myself, I can truly say that was a dick move."

“It’s really not that big of a deal, I’ll be fine- hey!”

He steered you both into the common area and plopped you down on the couch, where he wouldn't let you leave until you actually got it all out of your system

It didn’t take long for you to finally cave and do just that

You ended up ranting to him for an ungodly amount of time, going back and forth between being really pissed and really upset

Admittedly though, being able to release all those bottled up emotions felt really good

For the next few weeks, he took to inviting you to the gym at late hours to rough up a punching bag or two

Whether or not you felt the need to speak, he was always there to help you wrap your fists before starting and perfect your technique

Although the outlet seemed to help you get back to your usual self, he still couldn’t shake the growing anger he harbored towards your ex

With each powerful punch you sent into the bag he held steady for you, he had to refrain from taking your ex’s number to Killjoy and getting their exact location

Chamber

No one on the protocol could figure out why, but out of nowhere one night, you took to baking until early in the morning

Not in a peaceful manner, either

You would practically slam dough flat with the rolling pin, ignore the cacophony that the pans and pots made when you were searching through them for a pie tin, fume in an unspoken rage that drained the life out of the kitchen

You weren't one to get mad and, not wanting to piss you off any further, the agents largely tried to stay out of it

Not Chamber, though

Especially when your antics were keeping him awake

He walked into the kitchen when you were being especially noisy one night, finding you trying to scrape burnt cookies off a tray while you cursed under your breath

He pinched his nose and sighed

"What are you doing?"

"Not anything right, that's for sure. First I added too much baking powder, and then I burnt the fucking cookies, and... and..."

You fell silent, your movements slowly growing still

"Dammit. That bastard fucking cheated on me."

His eyes widened at the confession as you finally abandoned the pan in the sink, sitting down at the dining table so you could bury your face in your hands

There were a lot of things going through his mind, namely ‘Who?’, ‘Why?’, and ‘Could Cypher wipe my name from a warrant registry?’ but first and foremost, he pulled up a chair beside you

He got the feeling you didn’t really want to talk about it, at least not yet, so he offered the next best thing

"Do you know how to make madeleines?"

"... Madeleines?"

"I'll show you, if you want. Come."

He spent the rest of the night showing you how to bake the small pastries, helping you take it slow and steady

He even managed to earn a few laughs from you after a mishap with the flour left his glasses coated

He was careful not to breathe a word about your situation, proving to be a welcome, calming distraction you needed as you processed everything you were feeling

The anger pumping in your veins was gradually purged out with the help of his gentle company and after about four days, you finally felt like talking it out

He didn’t once judge you or give any smart remarks, he simply listened and offered advice you actually found useful

The creative insults he sent your ex’s way certainly soothed the burn, too

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

‘Tis Only a Flesh Wound

She-Ra fanfiction Entrapdak Entrapdak Mini-Month Rated PG - Graphic description of injury  Prompt / Theme - Day 5 - Clumsy  Summary: Entrapta has all of the self-preservation instincts of an overripe potato, and she has trouble taking a serious injury as seriously as she should.  Lucky for her, Hordak is an excellent surgeon.   Somewhat inspired by a video game character from a game I have played very little of.  The character’s backstory was very Entrapta-like.  Both are women of science and asskickery.   ____________________  ‘Tis Only a Flesh Wound “Oops…” “ENTRAPTA!” She dropped the handheld circular saw she had been wielding in her hair sharply on the work-table.  Blood was running from her upper left arm in alarming amounts. It spurt slightly before she quickly wrapped a tendril of hair above it, forming a tourniquet.   “Remain still and let me see it!  Keep your hair tight!”   Entrapta’s skin was paling.  “Accidents happen!” she said.   Her demeanor and the fact that she was not howling in agony were bad signs – severed nerves, shock… Hordak needed to work swiftly.  More importantly, he had to keep calm.  He tried to will his hearts to steady.  This was a difficult task, as whenever Entrapta got so much as a headache, some part of him thought that she was dying.  Losing her again was chief among his fears.   Hordak grabbed a blanket and tucked it around Entrapta’s shoulders, careful of the wounded arm.  He muttered to himself the guidelines he’d learned for treating Etherians for cases of acute physical trauma and heavy blood loss.  He flicked his ears, both in agitation and because he knew that it entertained Entrapta and would hopefully keep her awake and present-minded.   As he was examining the wound, Entrapta reached a bloodied bit of hair for the saw and squinted at the robot she had been working on.  Hordak grabbed the handle of the device.   “Drop it…” he hissed, immediately regretting how harsh he sounded.  “How can you think of work at a time like this?”   “I need to finish the positronic-brain install,” she insisted.  “It’ll only take a sec!”   “You have just sustained a major injury.” He gave her a glare, “A life-threatening one for your species.”   “Just clumsy, I guess! I’ve had worse!”   Hordak swiveled the work-table lamp to shine over the cut.  “Take a look,” he said cooly, applying pressure to the area above the wound with a firm grip, assisting her hair. “Oh, no, I guess I haven’t had worse,” the young woman conceded.  “Is that bone?” Hordak grunted.  He called to Imp.  “Don’t be afraid, he said to him, “I need you to fetch my surgical-tools and medications.” “Mother?” Imp asked, using a recording of Glimmer’s voice.  How he had picked that up, Hordak did not know.   “Entrapta will be fine if we act quickly,” he assured the batling.   “Faaaaaascinating,” Entrapta drawled. Her speech was mildly slurred. “Ow! Ow!  It’s actually starting to hurt now.” “I am sorry for moving my fingers without warning,” Hordak apologized.  “I am afraid that the healing-process will be agony.”   “Don’t wooooory about it,” Entrapta said, reaching for her tool again, with her good hand this time.   “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” “At this rate,” she answered, “I should just cut the whole thing off! We have all of these prosthetic designs we’ve been working on as part of our payback to the Etherian populace and those experiments we’ve been working on to replace your forearms.”   Her face lit up in pure excitement.  Her hair frizzed.  “IN FACT, I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR AN ACCIDENT JUST LIKE THIS ONE TO TEST MY THEORIES!” Hordak winced.  No wonder people all over called Entrapta a mad scientist with an emphasis on the mad part. Hordak, out of character for him in most situations, but in character for his dealings with his lab partner, took the gentle approach.   “We do not know how well a prosthetic will work,” he said, “Even with your brilliant designs, techno-organic integration is no small feat.  The technology for its integration with my people was lost when Horde Prime was…destroyed. You may not be able to achieve full-mobility.”   Entrapta gave him a serious, pleading look, along with a wince.  “I will not achieve full-mobility as it is.  This cut is deep.  I feel like a boned-out ham!”   Imp returned with a large black case. Hordak instructed Entrapta to keep her hair wound above the wound while he made haste to prepare a syringe of a powerful numbing-agent.  He found a viable point and injected it.  Hordak was not entirely new to such things, but he rarely used them when he was hurt. Horde Prime’s indoctrination was one of conserving such valuable resources and of suffering bringing moral clarity and purity.  As such, any surgeries that clones endured came without anesthetic or other pain-management agents unless it was absolutely necessary to keep them from moving during the procedure.  Entrapta insisted that Hordak take painkillers at least every once in a while – although he loathed certain side-effects.  His condition, being written into his genes, had no cure, only management.  Entrapta, however, had a simple, straightforward wound.   “Adora may assist us,” Hordak proposed. “She does not call up She-Ra often, but surely she can for this.” “She’s in deep space,” Entrapta reminded him. “We couldn’t go, remember? We had those timed cell-matrix experiments and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I’m going next time, though.  And next time, I’ll get to show off my new robot-arm!” With the injury properly quick-staunched and a feed of blood installed through an IV-line (Entrapta kept a vault of her own blood as well as donated clone-blood, regularly drawn, just in case of lab accidents – a measure that Hordak had insisted upon), Hordak got an even better look.   “Barring an ability to procure Adora swiftly, I reluctantly agree with you.  The limb, at this point… is lost.” “See?  I told you I was right!  Now let me get that saw!” Hordak snatched it off the table before she could grab it.  “I shall do it,” he insisted, “with proper sterilization.”   Imp looked on in worry, but laid the surgical case before him.  He passed a magnifier to Hordak, a scalpel and tools for stitching.   “Can you fetch the shoulder-mount prototype for me?” he asked his creation, “The left arm; the small, slender one.”   He looked to Entrapta as Imp flew off. Imp was not always – or often – so obedient, but could be helpful for the people he cared about.  His actions around Hordak were practiced.  The child knew every tool.  Hordak had done many surgeries on himself, after all, with Imp watching. “I should call the doctors and have you put under for this,” Hordak muttered.   “No way!” Entrapta pressed, “I wanna watch it all!  And help! Besides, the resident doctors are clone-doctors… and other Etherians don’t’ have the knowledge for this.  I need to be able to be awake for the attachment of the processors to the nerves.  And, yes… don’t give me that pout! I know that it’s going to hurt, but I trust you! You’re a wonderful surgeon, Hordak!” “I am not so sure that we should do this without assistance.” “Why not?  We’ve studied each other’s bodies thoroughly!” This earned Entrapta one furiously-blushing spacebat.  Hordak’s ears dipped bashfully.   They talked and worked through the night.  Entrapta winced as delicate cuts and necessary stitches and cauterizations were made and her arm was hooked up to a system that was supposed to function very much like a natural arm – save for some optional pop-out tools.  

The two scientists casually discussed the preservation of the discarded limb for dissection and study.  Hordak’s jaw went agape at Entrapta’s joke that she could clone an army of herself from it.  She apologized, realizing that she should not say such things around Hordak, even in jest. 

The morning found her in an exhausted sleep and Hordak watching her like a hawk.   

When her friends came back from their latest mission, their jaws dropped at the shiny new cybernetic arm that Entrapta had to show off.   All because she was clumsy one day in the lab.

[reidsnose]

Window

overview: reader accidentally falls out of a window while having a late night talk with spencer (loosely based on the song: home by edward shapre and the magnetic zeros)

genre: angst? FLUFF

warning: blood, head injury, hospital visit, overdramatic reader thinks shes dying

a/n: i really really dont know if yall will like this but i do and i think its cute so please lmk what u think ab it :)

masterlist

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Spencer knew it wasn't the safest thing in the world. you did too. but something about sitting on the outside window ledge together, talking and laughing, was far too tempting of an offer to pass up. and besides, it was just over 6 feet off of the ground! whats the worst that could happen?

and so you sat, shoulders smushed together so you could both fit. a blanket wrapped around you both, keeping the cool night air locked out. however, you were so close together (and so flushed) that even without the blanket you'd both still be warm.

you adored nights like this with him, thinking to yourself how you got lucky enough to call him your best friend. to anyone else, it was obvious you two were deeply yet obliviously, painfully in love. you watched as he retold a memory he had of the two of you, eyes widening and hands peeking through the blanket to gesture wildly with each sentence. though you were listening to the story, growing more and more fond of the memory now that it was being told from his perspective, you couldn't help but be distracted by him. his essence. his being. he was...intoxicating.

and then he cut to the punch line and looked to you for a reaction, watching beauty radiate from you as you threw your head back and laughed. he didn't even realize how funny it was until he saw how hard you were laughing. and then you snorted, which of course caused you to laugh more. with tears nearly coming out of your eyes, you wrapped your hands around your aching stomach, trying to control your laughter and completely forgetting that you needed your hands to keep you balanced on the window.

he took you in, a tranquility like no other filling his heart.

and then it happen.

in slow motion he watched you lose your balance, unable to catch his grasp as you fell towards the ground outside. fear coursed through his veins as he tried to calculate every possible out come. and then suddenly time was back to normal, and you were on the floor, a fresh cut on your head.

without missing a beat he jumped out after you, landing far more gracefully than you had.

you felt him lift your head into his lap, barely hearing his muffled words. you nodded when he asked if you could hear him for the fourth time. and then you felt some blood trickle down your face. and you did not do well with seeing your own blood.

that was it. you were gonna die. you never told him how you felt and you were going to die. you could even feel death pulling on your eyelids.

in reality, you had landed on your hip and your head hit a pointy rock. it felt like hell but medically you would be just fine. it looked a lot worse than it actually was, head injuries produce far more blood than other body parts.

spencer knew this as he peeled the cardigan off of his shoulders, bunching it up and applying pressure to your wound.

he picked you up bridal style, trying hard to cradle your head at the same time. he was beyond relieved at how relatively minor this was going to be. you would heal, and you would be ok. he got to his car and gently placed you in the passenger seat before running to the drivers side and taking off as fast as he possible could.

"Spencer," you rasped.

"don't talk very much right now. don't worry i'm going to get you to the hospital just stay awake for me you've probably got a concussion." he explained, looking over worriedly.

"im going to die." you told him, your brain feeling foggy from seeing your own blood.

"no you wont. i promise you wont die."

you went on telling him again and again how you would die and how the team shouldn't cry for you. and he patiently explained every time that you would be ok. and as he carried you into the ER you took one look at the cardigan that had rested against your forehead and convinced yourself 110% that you were on your death bed.

so it was now or never.

"Spencer before i die i want you to know that i love you. i always have. i just had to get it off my chest before i left this world with you still in it." you blurted as the doctors began to take you away.

he stood there, mouth agape at your confession.

"she is not going to die." one of the doctors reassured Spencer before turning on his heels and jogging to catch up with the rest of them.

it had to have been the loss of blood. or maybe a concussion fogged your thinking. or maybe he's in shock and he's hearing things. because there is no possible way that that just happened.

and so he sat in the waiting room for nearly an hour while they stitched up your head, nervously tapping his foot to match the pace of his racing thoughts.

he was thinking through every single moment the two of you had ever shared, wondering if-hoping that there was some truth to your confession, when they called out your name. he shot up faster than he ever had before, even getting a little light headed at the sudden quick stance.

he walked in to see you sitting up, drinking some apple juice that the nurses had brought you. and even then, in a hospital bed with half a dozen stitches in your forehead, you looked more beautiful than ever. he was astonished. absolutely astonished at just how radiant you were. your eyes twinkles as you smiled at him.

"so false alarm.. i didnt die." you joked, trying to hide your embarrassment, handing him a hospital issued jello.

"im so glad youre ok. you know i told you from the start we shouldnt have sat on the window," he chuckled, eyes feeling teary for a reason unknown to him.

"i know i know, you're always right." you giggled a little before wincing in pain from it.

his hand came up and lightly brushed your hair back, soothing you so much your eyes immediately fluttered closed. he had to bring it up, he had to know.

"did you mean it?" he asked.

you tried to control your heart rate while you played it dumb, "well yeah i really did think i was going to die."

"thats not what i meant."

"i know." you admitted. "yes. i meant it. i still mean it and if thats weird for you and you want to leave i completely understand-"

he cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, soft but passionate, tasting of jello.

it was a better profession of love than any speech he could try to make. because regardless of how many big words he used, it wouldn't be enough. not to mention that being around you makes his brain turn into mush, rendering it completely useless.

your heart rate monitor started going absolutely wild, beeping quickly and erratically. you both started laughing into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away. euphoria coursed through your veins, two lovesick bozos in the hospital.

you two talked for a little, buzzed from the kiss., smiling like a couple of idiots. but you were happy. sitting in the hospital with a cracked open head and you were still happy. because Spencer was there. and he makes you happy.

after talking to the doctor and a phone call with hotch, you were told to take two weeks off of work. spencer insisted that he go home early every day so he can come over and take care of you. and that was fiinnneee by you.

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[jungwonenthusiast]

Field Trip

A/N: I’ve been working on this pic for a while, I hope you guys like it :)

Pairing: Jake Sim x fem! reader

Word count: 5.2k

Genre: fluff, high school au

Warning: mentions of virginity loss and porn, occasional swearing, nothing else I think

“How many shirts should I take?” Jake asks you through your phone. 

“Uhm, we’re there for three days so take four just incase.” you reply and you pack your suitcase as well. 

You two were preparing for your five day field trip to New York which was happening tomorrow. 

You packed your favorite jeans and hoodies and even a dress just in case. You can't help but romanticize the hell out of New York after being stuck in this small town all your life. 

“How many pairs of underwear should I take?” he asks again and you giggle. He’s like a kid sometimes.  “How many times do you think you’ll change your underwear?” you say while sitting on your suitcase to get it to zip closed.

“Probably three but I’ll take four just in case.”

“What a quick learner.” you say and you hear him scoff. 

Jake has been your best friend since elementary school when you scraped your knee during tag and he took you to the nurse’s office. He’s been a sweetie since day one. 

“I doubt I’m gonna get any sleep tonight,” you sigh. “I’m too riled up.”

“Same,” he sighs. “I wonder how many flashers we’ll run into.”

You laugh. “Why is that the first thing you think of you creep.”

“Hey now,’ he chuckles. “I thought that was the stereotype.”

You hop onto your bed and pick your phone up, it looks like Jake’s doing the same. All you can see are his eyes and a bit of his nose bridge. His dark hair has started to grow out and it was poking at his eyelids. 

Your phone pings with a text from Jake. It’s a horrendous screenshot of you climbing over your phone to get into bed. You gasp.

“I’ll kill you.” you tell him as he’s holding in his laugh. “I will do it.”

His laugh bursts out of his throat, jolly and warm. “Why I love it.”

“I hate you so much. Delete it.”

“No way,” he bunches his brows. “You have an entire photo album dedicated to bad pictures of me.”

“And I also have an entire album dedicated to good pictures of you.” you roll your eyes.

“You do?” he asks. “That’s a bit fangirly of you.”

“Me? A fangirl? Maybe Madeline but not me.” you scoff.

“Madeline?” his voice perks up. “She likes me?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew this.” you swear that you’ve brought this up before. Maybe he just forgot. 

“Nuh-uh.” he says.

“Well...” you say. “do you like her back.”

“I mean she’s nice but,” he hesitates. “not really.”

“Why not? She’s smart and super pretty. I'm so jealous of her hair.” you say. Madeline was a tan ginger girl with curly fiery hair down to the small of her back. 

“You have nice hair.” he says nonchalantly. 

You touch it and rub it between your fingers. “It’s whatever.”

He scoffs. “You’re too hard on yourself all the time.”

“I’m a teenage girl, I can’t help it.” You defend yourself, but he isn’t lying. 

“I’m bored, can I come over?” he says suddenly. 

“Tonight? We have school tomorrow.” you reply. 

“Maybe I’ll just sleep over.” he says while turning over in his bed. “I don’t think our parents would care.”

Sleepover? You two hadn’t done that since you turned eleven. 

“Where would you sleep?” you ask him, already imagining how this would go.

“I don’t know on the floor.” he shrugs.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor I’ll feel bad.” you argue.

“I don’t care, I’m the one who suggested it, plus I miss you dude, I wanna hang out.” he says and you smile.

“I saw you on Friday.”

“Yeah, a whole two days ago.” he gets up off his bed. “Okay I’ll be there in ten.”

“What-” you start but he cuts you off.

He brings the camera up close to his face and he flashes you a smile. “Bye!” he hangs up. 

Your palms feel a bit sweaty and you brush them off on your pants. Why am I nervous? You guys have had plenty of sleepovers before but the rest of the boys were always there, probably passed out from beer or a sugar crash. 

You tidy your room up a bit and prepare a little blanket bed on the floor right next to your actual bed. 

You hear knocking at the door right when you expected, Jake was hardly ever late. 

“Hola~” he says as he walks in with his backpack on. He takes his shoes off before skipping over to your room. You giggle to yourself. 

He falls back onto your bed with a big sigh. “I missed being here.” 

“Why? There’s nothing cool here. Your house is way cooler.” you say and he smiles.

“Well I can’t deny that,” he shrugs and you punch him in the arm. “you’re the one who said it.”

“We get it rich boy.” you roll your eyes and sit down next to him.

“I’m just playing,” he sits up. “you know that.”

“I hope you showered after practice,” you say. “I don’t want you stinking up my bed.”

He whips his head to you, looking a little bit offended. “I am very clean alright? Here smell my hair.” he shoves his head into your face. 

You let out a strangled noise and try to push him away. “Okay, okay!”

“No smell it,” he keeps his hair up in your face, it’s tickling your nose. “smells like mangos right.”

Admitedly, he's right. It smells like mangos.

“Yes it does,” you squeak out. “now please respect my personal bubble.” you spread your arms out and create an imaginary bubble between you two. He tries to tug at your arm but you bellow in a robot voice. “PERSONAL BUBBLE PERSONAL BUBBLE.”

“Fine, fine.” he falls back onto your bed again, laughing. “Lets watch something.”

You follow suit and tug your laptop into your lap. 

“Hold on,” you get up and close your window, it was starting to get too cold.

You shimmy under your covers and pull up Netflix.

“Scary movie?” you click on the horror section.

“Sure but you probably won’t be able to sleep.” he teases and you roll your eyes. 

“That was years ago.” you start to scroll through the movies. 

“Mhm, and I’m never letting you live it down.” he says with pride. 

During freshman year the gang decided to go to Jay’s house to watch It together and it freaked you out so much that you went to sleep in the boys room rather than the guest room. 

You click on Hush, a movie you’ve been avoiding because it’s about one of your biggest fears, a home invasion. 

“I thought you hated this movie.” Jake says, crossing his arms.  “I do, but I need to face my fears eventually right?” you click on it and get up to turn the lights off. 

Jake soon gets under the covers as well. You both cringe and slap each other every time your feet touch. 

“Yo yo yo yo watch out!” Jake whispers and pulls his hood over his head, something you both do when you’re nervous. You weren’t wearing a hoodie so you settled with a spare blanket and draped it over yourself like a cloak. 

“Oh shit,” you whisper. “look behind you!” you yell at the main character. 

By the end of the movie both of your bodies are stiff and sore from being so tense for two hours straight. 

“I thought she was gonna die.” you sigh and you shut your laptop. 

“Nah, they couldn’t kill the main girl.” Jake says, comfy and cuddled up in your duvet. “She was so smart.”

“Yeah she was.” you yawn and then kick Jake in the side. “Go to your bed.”

He groans. “It’s warm here though.”

“Go and I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.” you say.

He perks up and follows your orders. 

You relax into your mattress, but you miss his warmth next to you. You ignore that. 

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 and Jake sleeps right through it. 

“How the hell does he get up in the morning?” you whisper. “Probably Leila.”

He’s sleeping on his side, cuddling a stuffed animal he must’ve stolen from your bed while you were asleep.

You stretch your back before washing up. 

Jake’s POV

My serene sleep is interrupted by pokes at my shoulder. 

“Get up poop.” she says. I almost forgot that I was at her house. I crack my eyes open to find her crouching next to me. 

“Good morning.” I croak out.

“You stole ginger.” she points at the stuffed bunny in my arms. 

“I was lonely.” I say before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“7:30,” she says holding in a giggle. “go wash up so we can eat.”

“What’s so funny?” I ask her as she walks away. “You’ll see when you look in the mirror.” she says.

My eyes widen. Did she draw a dick on my forehead or something? I thought we swore to never do that.

I scramble to her bathroom to meet some gnarly bedhead. I have no clue how guys have good messy hair, my hair is either boring and flat or just messy. 

“Jesus.” I say to myself and try to run my head under the sink. 

I brush my teeth and secretly use her facial cleanser. 

“So fancy.” I whisper while lathering it up on my face. 

I can already hear her voice in my head when I’m drying off saying “don't forget to put lotion on, and face lotion, not body.”

A stack of pancakes is waiting for me in the kitchen, just as she promised. 

“Thank you mom.” I say to her before digging in.

She sits across from me with her own plate of flap jacks. She looks so pretty this early in the morning. Her face is fresh and sparkly and her eye bags somehow just make her prettier. It’s cloudy out and I can tell she’s cold she way her body is bundled up in her chair. 

I still remember the moment I realized that I liked her. It was seventh grade and we were at our town’s annual fair. She got a bit sick after a ride with a lot of loopdey loops so I stayed behind with her while the rest of the boys continued to go on every ride they pleased. She told me to go with them and that she didn’t want me to miss out but I said that it was fine and that I liked hanging out with her anyway. She smiled her bright smile at me and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Then she threw up on my shoes. Like projectile cotton candy, funnel cake, and other miscellaneous fair food vomit. And I didn’t even get that mad, I was more concerned for her. After that I figured I liked her, because if it were Jay I would’ve beat him up. 

“Did you have any nightmares?” I ask her and she shakes her head.

“Nah, I dreamt that Sunghoon married a dolphin. It was weird.” she sighs.

I choke on my pancakes. “A dolphin?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “his name was Jerry.”

“And it was a guy too?” I hold my chest, trying not to choke.

“Don’t judge their interspecies homosexual marriage. It was beautiful.” she laughs and takes a big gulp of water.

I’m almost crying at this point. “Best dream ever. I can’t wait to tell Sunghoon this.”

“No!” her eyes widen. “He’s gonna think I fantasized about it or something.”

“What?” I cock an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that dreams are uncontrollable sometimes.” “Still it’s weird. Imagine if someone told you that I dreamt of you marrying a dolphin. It’s be weird.” she says through a mouth of pancake. 

“Did they have kids?” I cackle,

“I don’t know. How would that even work?” 

“Maybe they had a surrogate or something.” I suggest.

“Oh god,” she shakes her head, smiling. “we need to stop. I feel like I'm violating him.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Should I wear this shirt or this sweater.” she asks me as we’re getting ready in her room. 

“Sweater. It’s probably gonna be cold.” I say while tugging socks on. 

“Shit you’re right. Then I won’t be able to wear this dress.” she holds up a little dress that flows out a bit from the waist. 

“Bring it anyway and maybe you can wear it for a second so I can take pictures for you.” I suggest and she smiles. 

“Good idea.” 

We both settle of hoodies and jeans and say goodbye to her parents before hopping in my car. 

We get to school right when people start getting on the bus to the airport. We throw our luggage into the bottom carrier and get in line. 

“Yo!” I hear a familiar voice call as we get on. “We saved seats for you guys.”

Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki have already gotten comfortable in the back of the bus. Niki was already asleep. Y/N couldn’t help but pat his head before settling down next to Jungwon. The bus wasn’t a school one but one of those fancy ones they bring out once a year. 

I sit down next to Sunghoon and dap him up. 

“What’s up.” I say while putting my backpack down by my feet. 

“Tired.” he says. “Valentina kept me up all night.”

I raise an eyebrow and he smirks. 

“For real?” I ask and he nods. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” he says and holds up a fist.

I fist bump him and pat him hard on the shoulder. 

“You’re a man now Sunghoon.” I congratulate him and he snickers. 

“What does that make you then?” 

“I’m taking my time alright? I’ll get there eventually.” I say, a little embarrassed. 

I look back to check out what she’s doing when we start to drive off. She’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Jungwon’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to dose off too. Cute. 

Sunghoon and I watch a couple episodes of Death Note before we arrive at the airport. Sunoo shakes Y/N and Jungwon up. 

She’s still groggy as we walk into the airport and grabs onto my arm for leverage. My heart jumps a little. It’s not often that we touch despite how much I think about touching her. I could stare at her back all day. She could ignore me for the rest of my life and I’d still be happy to be in her presence. Mental note to all of you: do NOT let your feelings get to this point.

Soon we’re on the plane and she chooses to sit next me. I silently celebrate. Sunoo and Sungoon behind us, Heeseung and Niki next to us, and Jay and Jungwon in front of us. Sunoo pokes his head over her seat.

“Do you have chapstick I can borrow.” he asks with his blonde hair flopping over his forehead. 

She digs into her bag and hands him a small tin of lip balm.

“Thank you!” he says and she nods. 

“Are you that tired?” I ask her.

“Mhm,” she sighs and shuts her eyes. “I forgot to drink coffee this morning.”

I put in my AirPods and start to watch Lady Bird. She looks over and takes an AirPods out of my ear. 

“I wanna watch too.” she say and puts it in her own. 

We take off for the six hour trip and soon Y/N is sound asleep. Her head kept dropping forward so I pushed it up and pulled it to rest on my shoulder. This was not on purpose. I can’t help but snap a picture of her and add it to the good pictures of her album. She looks so peaceful and comfortable and gorgeous. I lay my head on hers for a moment before continuing the movie. 

Y/N’s POV

After two hours of unsatisfying sleep, and hour of gossip with Sunoo, and three hours of chit chat with Jake you finally arrive. You sit up and stretch as best as you can in the plane. You pull you backpack onto my back and get you luggage down from the overhead bin. It’s already five p.m. when we get off and your stomach is growling. 

We take another bus to the hotel and you can’t help but admire the city life as we drive there. 

You’re roomed with two other girls at the hotel but you don’t even bother unpacking. You know you’re gonna be in the boys’ room anyway.

Mrs. Gilroy gave us tonight to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back at the hotel by ten p.m. 

You sneak into Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon’s room as soon as you can. And when you get there, it’s already a mess.

“Good lord.” you say as you’re met with clothes all over the floor and mini bottles of liquor on the beds.

“You guys are drunk already?” you scrunch your nose and drop your stuff in a corner of the room.

“No.” Sunghoon says to you lazily with a little smirk on his face. You can’t help but giggle. Sunghoon is pretty adorable when he’s drunk. 

“Are you drunk too?” you turn to Jake and he shakes his head. His pink cheeks give him away though. “You’re all bad liars.”

“Lets go swim.” he says excitedly. 

“There’s a pool? I didn’t bring a swim suit.” you say, bummed.

“Can we go later, I’m hungry.” Jay says and you agree.

“Me too.” 

Jake tugs at your arm. “Come on~ we can order room service or ask Jay to get us something.”

“We can get you guys something.” Sunghoon says, pulling a hoodie over his head. 

“Please?” Jake looks at you with shiny eyes. He’s and adorable drunk too.

You purse your lips and sigh. “Fine. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Just wear shorts and a shirt.” Jake says as he tugs his swim trunks out of his suit case.

“I didn’t bring shorts because you said it was gonna be cold.” you complain, crossing your arms. 

“Uhm,” he stops for a moment. “you can wear my boxers then.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“What?” he looks at you. “They’re basically shorts. And they’re clean.”

You hesitate but then comply as always. He tosses you a pair of black Calvins.

You steal one of Jay’s shirts and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’re wearing a simple cotton bralette which should be fine for the pool. You bundle up the rest of your old clothes and stick them behind your backpack before heading out with Jake. 

The pool is empty and huge and is only light by the lights inside. 

“It’s so cold.” you rub at your arms as Jake sets your towels down at a seat.

“I’m sure the pool is heated.” he says and dips a toe in. “Yeah, it’s warm.” Before you can even reply, he tugs his shirt off and canon balls in. You turn your face to avoid getting splashed.

“How is it?” you call out as he emerges from the water. He shakes his hair around like a dog. 

“It’s warm so come in, you look funny standing there.” he teases and you roll your eyes. You kick your sneakers off and try to make a peaceful jump in but you didn’t realize you were in the deep end. It takes you a moment to get your senses together and swim to the surface.

“Why is it deep?” you say, a bit out of breath. 

Jake giggles at you. “Remember when we used to play and you were the mermaid and I was the-”

“Turtle companion.” you finish his sentence. “Yes, as clear as day.”

“Why couldn't I be a mermaid too? Why was a I a lame turtle.” he fusses.

“I’m sorry okay?” you laugh. “I was a mean child.”

“Yeah you were. I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.” 

You burst out laughing, flailing your arms in the water to try to stay afloat. “You deserved it!”

“I did not!” he protests. 

“You cheated in handball! It was one hundred percent deserved.” you say, swimming over to him.

“I barely cheated!” he calls out, starting to swim away from you.

“Barely? I would’ve won and been champion of our grade if you hand’t pulled that shit!” you say, still laughing and swimming after him.

“Why are you chasing me?” he says while hopping around the pool where he can touch the ground.

“So I can shove another clump of dirt in your mouth.” you try your best to get him but your heavy cotton shirt is holding you back. You don’t let it stop you though. 

You finally get to him and tug his arm. He yells as you push him underwater. He finds the ground though, and shoots up soon after. 

“Are you trying to drown me?” he looks at you, astonished but giggly. 

“Maybe.” you shrug before tackling him again. It had been a while since you two wrestled like this. 

You’ve got him under water for a bit until he finds your rib cage and plunges you in. It’s hard to hold your breath while you’re laughing. You feel around for him and pinch his thigh only semi hard. He lets you go after that. 

“I won!” you celebrate with your fists in the air.

“You used pain, that isn't fair.” he rubs at the area that you pinched. 

“Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.” you cross your arms.  “Fine.” he admits his defeat. “that pinch hurt though, come kiss it better.”

Your face twists. “Nuh uh.” you say plainly. 

“Please?” he asks. “I will drown myself right now.” You laugh at him. 

“I will do it!” he insists.

“Okay, okay! I’m not to going to kiss your leg you weirdo but I’ll give you a hug.” you float over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I even pinched you lighter than I normally would.”

“I’m sensitive.” he says into your neck and you giggle. 

His arms feel so right around your waist and you struggle to decide when to let go, so you just don’t, and neither does he. He holds you decently tight and you feel him pat your back. 

You’ve hugged plenty of times before but it felt a little different this time. Probably because you’re pressed up against his bare skin. It makes you feel a bit sheepish. 

You pull away from him. “Feel better now?” 

He nods with a smile. His cheeks are pink, but this time it’s not from the liquor. 

Jake’s POV

I can’t help but feel disappointed when she lets go of me. 

I shouldn’t have patted her back that's a dad thing to do. 

Her makeup has started to run down her face which makes me giggle.

“What?” she asks.

“Your mascara is making you look crazy.” I say and her hands fly to her face.

“Shit I forgot I had it on.” she attempts to wipe it away but all it does is smear it across her face. 

“Here,” I say and float over to her. “I’ll help you.” this was not on purpose.

I hold her face as gently as I can in my hands and rub the runny mascara off with my thumbs. I dip my fingers into the water to get all of the bits off. 

I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that I’ll never do it. Sometimes I get irritated at myself for not being able to confess. I think Jay and Sunghoon get irritated about it too. 

“You talk about her all the time man just ask her out.”

I don't know why I can’t do it. If she rejects me she’ll do it nicely and things would go back to normal pretty soon. But I don’t think I could live knowing that my feelings would never be reciprocated. Sometimes I get a feeling that she likes me too but I can never be too sure. 

“All gone.” I say and she thanks me. 

She lets her self float on her back. She has a small smile on her face and she’s so pretty I could cry. There have been multiple times where I nearly cried over how much I like her.

“What are your thinking about?” I ask.

“You know I never know how to answer that.” she bleats. “My mind always goes blank when you ask.”

“Well try to remember what you were thinking about then.” 

“Us.” she says plainly.  “Us?” I questioned. “What about us?” “I don’t know, just how I met you guys and how happy I am to be friends with you all.” she says. 

Oh. She meant all of us. 

“Yeah me too.” I agree, trying not to sound down. “Who’s your favorite?”

She snorts. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Of course you do,” I say. “and it better be me.”

“Why would it be you?” she jeers. 

I frown. “Because we met first.”

“I’m kidding, of course you’re my favorite.” she admits.

“And why is that?” I egg her on and she rolls her eyes. 

“Because we met first.”

I sigh. “Is that all?”

“Mhm.” she says. 

Y/N’s POV

You’re met with InNOut that Sunghoon and Jay got and also a room full of teenage boys. The younger ones were laying on their stomachs on a bed together, watching something on a laptop. Sunghoon and Jay were trying to watch t.v. You say trying because of the furious clicking on the remote. 

“What the hell are you guys trying to do?” you and Jake plop onto the one empty bed.

“Trying to find the porn.” Jay grumbles.

“Infront of the children?” you look over at the younger ones.

“They don’t care they’re watching YouTube.” he says, still clicking. 

You take a bite of your burger. “You have an endless arena of porn on your phone why do you want the t.v. one?”

“The t.v. makes it special.” Sunghoon says. 

“Weird.” you mutter to yourself.  “They’re probably gonna make you pay for it too.” Jake chimes in. 

“Do you think it’ll go to the school’s credit card or whatever?” Jay asks with wide eyes.

“I don't know but if it does they’ll know it’s from our room.” he says through a full mouth. 

You grab pajamas out of your bag and head to the bathroom to shower. 

You come out feeling fresh and the younger ones have gone back to their room now. 

“My turn,” Jake says, walking into the bathroom. 

You sit next to Sunghoon on his bed and start scrolling through your phone. 

“Should I get this sweater or this one.” he holds his phone up to you and shows you light blue sweater and a black one.

“Second one.” you say.

“Really?” he questions. “I feel like it’ll make me look emo.”

“You should become emo honestly. It would look good.” you reply and he chuckles. 

“You’d have to help me with my eyeliner every morning.”

“Yeah,” you giggle “wait can I do it right now? I wanna see how you’d look.”

“Right now?” he cocks a brow and you nod. “Okay but don’t give me raccoon eyes.”

“I won’t I won’t.” you rush over to your bag and bring your make clutch to the bed. 

“Hold still.” you tell him as you give him smokey winged liner.

“It tickles.” he says, trying not to blink too much.

“Beauty is pain.” you clean up the wing with your nail. 

In a couple minutes you’re done. “Finished." you say.

“Lemme see.” he grabs a hand mirror from your clutch and holds it up to his face. “Hold on. This looks kinda good.”

“Right?” you had to admit it; he looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jay says from his bed. 

Soon Jake came out of the shower and it was hard to deny how good looking he is especially with his damp hair. How could someone make a t-shirt and sweats look so good? He dumps his laundry by his bag. 

“Does Sunghoon have makeup on?” he asks, settling onto his bed.

“Yeah doesn’t it looks nice?” you ask and he agrees. 

“Y/N are you gonna sleep here or in your room.” Jay asks.

“I thought I would just sleep on the floor here.” you suggest and he furrows his brows. 

“No that’s mean. Share a bed with someone.”

“You should sleep with Jake.” Sunghoon elbows you in the side and you shoot him a dirty look. “We all know he wants you to anyway.”

“Fuck off Sunghoon.” Jake looks over at him with a piercing stare, a contrast to his pink cheeks. 

“Is it okay if I do?” you ask him and he nods.

“Yeah for sure.”

Sunghoon snickers. 

“I hate you.” Jake scowls. 

After a couple hours of watching movies and horsing around it’s nearly midnight and your eyes are getting heavy. 

You crawl under the covers and scroll on your phone a bit before trying to sleep. Despite how tired you are it’s hard to sleep with the boys chatting and snickering to each other. 

“Can you guys quiet down?” you ask them.

“Sorry.” Jay says. 

After maybe an hour of sleep, you feel someone get on the bed. Probably Jake, you think to yourself. His little sighs as he gets comfortable are cute. 

“You awake?” he whispers. 

“Mm?” you turn on your side to face him. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” he says. The room is dark but the moonlight helps you make out the outline of his face. 

‘What’s up?” you ask.

“Nothin.” he says and you giggle.

“Okay weirdo. Go to bed.” you close your eyes, stilling facing him though. 

“I’m not tired.” he says.

“Count sheep.”

“That never works for me.” he sighs. “Sing me to sleep.”

You try to slap him in the arm but you end up hitting his face. “Oh shit sorry!”

“Ow!” he whines. “Why do you keep hurting me?”

“It was an accident!” you whisper and rub at his cheek a bit. 

“Now I actually deserve a hug.” he pouts and you roll your eyes.

“You are not five years old.”

“I still want the hug.” he says plainly and you sigh.

“Fine.” you scooch over to him and pull him into your chest. You pat his back. “There there. Better now?”

He shakes his head. “It still hurts.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” you scoff. 

“I have no shame when it comes to your affection, you should know that by now.” he smiles.

You feel his arm fall over your waist and his hand slide up your back. It gives you goosebumps.

You’re cuddling with him. You guys are cuddling right now. You think to yourself. No you’re not, you’re just...hugging. Right?

Jake pulls away to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you gonna say your mom again?” you ask and he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says giggling. “it’s something for real.” 

“Okay what is it?”

He takes a sharp inhale. “I like you.” he winces. 

Your heart jumps a bit. “I know.”

“What?” he laughs.  “You’re very obvious about it.” you chuckle.  “Are you rejecting me?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“I would never.” you pull him in by the back of neck and push your lips against his.

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

[frostahesmegabite]

The Judgement of Carrion

@daily-writing-challenge - Day 4 - Accomplish/Macabre [ Content warning: Blood, Guts, Gore, Bits of Torture, That sort of stuff. While there aren't pages and pages of it, it is present in this short story. I tried to find a balance of detail and keeping things light without going into ‘Hostel’ territory. ]

Human forts were a dime a dozen, easily found and half of them forgotten or falling to ruin due to the numerous war fronts that were constantly moving across the face of Azeroth to fight one force or another. Some lost to time, others to ruin, some to marauding forces and others simply abandoned because they were no longer needed. It was one of these Forts that Megahes had put to use for himself and probably his most comprehensive and long lasting pastime.

Clever little devices put into play to keep things looking abandoned and misused, neglected and falling to ruin. The place had not only been repaired but also reinforced with Magical and Mechanical Goblin ingenuity that was built upon with knowledge gained over the past several decades.

Inside of this fort, despite the fact it was never intended to receive an actual willful audience, was decorative furniture made of fine dark woods embroidered with rich velvets, soft silks and the finest wools and cottons coin could acquire. Tables stretching about with plates and goldware that no man or woman other than Megahes would ever see sat to present an atmosphere of riches on display. Trophy cases and stands line the walls with numerous weapons of both magical and mundane descent that perch over Armor Stands holding protective metal layers meant not just for Goblins, but all races.

If any ever came to somehow find the place and took the time to inspect any of it, they’d find that all of these items weren’t as ‘pristine’ as they may appear at a distance. Damage came to them all at some point or another. Blunted blades, shattered axe heads assembled to look presentable. Armor with gashes, pierced helmets or chest pieces, greaves with shorn metal by the thighs that most likely led to bleed outs.

The more one could look, the more they’d note that all of the gear was like walking through a museum of deathly wounds. All that stood or hung from the walls had a story of defeat and loss and probably before then, great triumphs, valor and victory… just to have their stories end here.

Megahes pays no mind to these things now though as he walks with his back rigid and straight, his arms back behind him with hands clasping the other arms elbow in some overly formal glide across the stone floor. His bright white and gold attire is a stark beacon amongst the dark colors and atmosphere of the room that one should have found comforting, but for some reason, only brought worry and dread with it as he moves about his untold business.

[ Artwork by the Magnificent Fishadee. No Fire or Light Shards floating about in this scene, purely put for clothing example. https://twitter.com/fishadee ] He stops, not worrying to look around for any watchers, for he knows there are none as he stops at a small wall just behind a staircase. “Rehorur decno Kudex.” A series of flashes occur around our Goblin and once completed a small stone panel slides off to the side and Megahes puts his hand into the slot. A sudden sharp ‘shing!’ sound is head and Mega’s neck tenses but for a moment before his hand is withdrawn. A mechanical but feminine voice perks up from the slot. “Welcome back.” “Hmm.” The only sound Megahes makes before he takes a step back and then to the left. The stone wall jars forward at an alarming speed, spikes erupting from her stone crevices meant to impale and kill any would-be intruders while giving Megahes the solitary moment that was needed to pass behind the crude defense into the wall beyond. Whether by measured practice or perhaps sensors, the trap quickly retreats and returns to normal, giving off no telltale signs of a hidden door or of Mega’s earlier passing.

The reason for all this secrecy? Hidden at the end of the staircase Mega was already descending. Humans had their specialties sure, jacks of all trades those people. But the one thing they never fail to make well?

Jail Cells and Prisons.

It was this singular reason that Megahes took over this once ramshackle Fort for himself. Though there weren’t many cells, there was no need. Three of them sat in a row at the bottom of the stairs, each outfitted with custom Arcano-tech that allowed for the arrival of a singular occupant that was soon set to magical and electrical suppression to keep them docile and incapable of action while time slowly allowed them to become dehydrated and starved to where strength or speed was no longer an issue either.

The work put into this place was one of Mega’s hidden creations of pride and in the past, its use went towards a sorted pastime of torturing whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught by one of his traps. Times change however and with Mega’s newfound religion, came the need to change how and why he did things while applying them to old hobbies. Today’s hobby however, only involved one other person beyond himself and Mega comes to stand right before him as electricity pulses through his frail, nearly starved frame.

“Brother Abacus.” A stupid name, false to be sure, but one that Megahes didn’t really care about either way. “I realize you don’t know who I am and that’s quite alright.” He leans in, voice dialing down as he speaks through the bars just as another tide of electricity bombards the ‘Brother’, causing him to whimper and whine in pain. “You have been found guilty of being a member of a Twilight Cult, one in fact, that was run by Dinthoqaf the Defiler.”

The cultist looks up, arms shaking in heavy tremors as he tries to look his would-be captor in the eye. They give out however, causing him to hit the ground with an exhale. His cracked and bleeding lips wobble, trying to say something, but the lack of strength made their efforts near useless. It was sad really, or at least it would be if Megahes cared about the man's condition in the slightest.

Megah glides over to a control panel on the wall and proceeds to flip a series of switches and dials which cause several mechanical tendrils to tear from the wall in Abacus’ cell that soon lash him to the same wall they originated from. His body was quickly drawn into an ‘X’ shape with limbs pulled tight and to their limits.

“You see. Your former… Employer? Boss? Leader.” Megahes hands lift and tumble in slow methodical circles as he tries to find the right word, but leaves it be. “Him and I don’t get along very well and thanks to his efforts, I find myself needing to improvise my tactics a bit. While I know he’s dead, face turned to slag and glass, I wanna make sure I get the job done correctly, meaning none of his followers try to take up his mantle. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns around and heads into the cell, worry of electrocution now gone thanks to the current state of affairs. “You see. I have this…” He pauses. “...Macabre little ritual I have to do every so often and believe me.” The Goblin laughs while looking up at the man while proceeding to straighten up his clothes, as if it mattered. “As much as people might want me to say I hate doing this… I don’t. I’ve been doing this to people way before you all found me and now. Now I get to put my hobbies to better use.”

Megahes’ hand comes up, his index finger pressing to his lips to tell Brother Abacus to be silent. His smile fades with the gesture and he reaches up, pressing his black and gold painted claw against the clothing of this man's thigh. Downward, slowly, it runs. Fabric quickly turns from a peasant-y brown to a heavy red and brown as flesh below seems to split before the clothing itself can.

Magic? Possibly. Insanely sharp claws? Not likely. But whatever it was, the man's thigh split open as if by scalpel and despite his starvation, he thrashes weakly in an effort to pull away. The machines holding his wrists tighten and continue to do so until the sound of bone is heard crunching.

This process continues on not just for mere moments but stretches of hours, lines drawn across flesh like sand. Megahes had nothing else to say and so, despite the protests and pleading, begging to let him go and he’d tell no one, Mega continued.

Soon, details were carved away, facial features, scalp and its rooted hair, ears. Nearly anything that could be taken and removed without outright killing this poor cultist was taken in some macabre movie of silence and torture and finally, when the man was nearest his end, Megahes opens his own shirt.

The metal embedded into his Chest that shines with the Light like a beacon in this squalor, practically vibrates as Mega runs his blood coated hands across its surface. Red blood made semi-translucent by the sheer shine, soon was baked and cooked black, all Vitae devoured, leaving Megahes to sigh in relief.

“I would ask you to tell the Defiler thank you for giving me this. But… we both know you’re never going to have that opportunity.”

Megahes runs his hand up from Brother Abacus' groin clear up to his collarbone, shearing clean through flesh and muscle alike. What came next was a grotesque shower of innards that began to fall and slop to the floor, leaving our would-be cultist inanimate and lifeless.

“Now to clean up and go home. Tonight’s my date night and I have so many things to accomplish before She gets home…” Soon, the jail cells were left dark and eventually the slow trickling of blood and various other liquids came to silence in the dark, waiting to be cleaned up and for a new subject to be taken.

[rainingpouringetc]

so hug all your friends and let them know you’re not letting go

ch 4 - sing me a song, tell me your thoughts / i could listen to you all night long (pt 2)

read on ao3

The next morning was quite pleasant for Ariadne. She woke to find Grace already in the dining room—unusual for the girl who usually preferred to flit about like a ghost. They had stayed up until midnight the previous night exchanging stories of their childhoods. Ariadne had missed thinking of India. She had told Alastair about it at his request, and at hers he’d spoken of Persia. This had been different from that, though. This had been less about the place itself and more the family she’d left behind. Grace had left family, too—or had family leave her. The feeling was familiar; it pooled in Ariadne’s gut when she was left alone with the thoughts. Having someone to pick them apart with helped.

The girls ate breakfast together, chatting aimlessly about the weather and the food and anything else they could think of. Mr. and Mrs. Bridgestock were, graciously, away for the week. There was some business they were tending to somewhere else in the country. Ariadne had long since stopped trying to make sense of her father’s trips.

They stumbled awkwardly into a brief discussion of the day’s plans, finding that neither of them had any designs beyond breakfast.

“Well,” Ariadne said carefully, “would you perhaps like to train with me today, then? I could use a partner.”

Grace seemed taken aback. “Oh! Well, sure, I suppose. I must admit,” she said sheepishly, looking down at her plate, “I have very little in the way of training. I’m not sure I could be of much help to you.”

Ariadne brightened immediately. “Of course you can! I could teach you, if you like. I always thought the best way to practice something you already know is by teaching it to somebody else.”

“I agree,” Grace said with a smile.

They agreed to meet in the drawing room after changing into gear. Grace was surprisingly quick to go up the stairs, though she never lost that elegant smoothness in her stride. Ariadne lingered a moment in the dining room, her heart thumping painfully.

There were many thoughts going through her head, bumping into each other and leaving little space for much else. She barely knew Grace, and here she was offering to train her. Their friendship—if it could be called that—was moving awfully fast. Though, things had moved rather fast with Alastair as well. Perhaps they were all so starved for friendship that they were wiling to try to bond with anyone who showed the barest speck of interest.

That wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.

Ariadne sighed and wished Alastair was there. He was better at this than she was, though one may not think it. If Alastair liked someone, or thought he did at least, he could keep a conversation going well enough. Ariadne had always struggled with small talk—it seemed so frivolous and unnecessary. She hoped Grace would feel the same.

When she and Alastair had first started testing their friendship, Ariadne had relied heavily on him to guide the conversation. He’d wanted to know about Anna, and she’d told him—then he’d told her about Charles before she could figure out if she was supposed to ask. He’d also mentioned Thomas vaguely, though how exactly he felt for the man hadn’t come out until much later.

Ariadne smiled fondly at the memories as she ascended the stairs and looked for her gear. Alastair was, surprisingly, a bit of a mess when it came to Thomas Lightwood. Usually so calm and collected, he stumbled over his words when he tried to explain what it was like falling for someone who hated him so thoroughly. It’s not as though it could ever work, anyway, Alastair had said with false casualness. I doubt Thomas is even interested in men.

Only one way to find out, she’d teased. It had earned her a pillow in the face, but it had certainly been worth it.

As she carefully slipped into her gear, she wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps this was what having a sibling was like. She and Alastair got on so well, it was almost a shock whenever she remembered they hadn’t really known each other all that well until a month ago.

A knock startled the memories from her grasp. She finished buckling all that need buckling and opened the door to find a sheepish Grace still in her morning dress. “I’m sorry to bother,” she said before Ariadne could so much as draw breath, “it’s just I’ve realized I don’t actually have any gear.”

Ariadne frowned. It had been quite a few minutes since Grace had disappeared upstairs—what had she been doing all this time?

Seeming to read the question on her face, Grace glanced at her hands and said, “I’d have said something sooner, it’s just… I’m sorry. I didn’t not want you to think less of me as a Shadowhunter.”

Most people did, Ariadne was coming to realize. 

She smiled as gently as she could and held open her door, gesturing for Grace to follow as she strode to the closet. “I’m sure I have some old gear that will fit you.” Grace was a few inches shorter than her, but sure enough, there was some gear she’d outgrown when she was fourteen at the very back. Ariadne pulled it out and handed it to Grace. “Do you need any help with it?” she asked.

Grace shook her head quickly. “No. Thank you for offering. I have worn it before, I simply have none of my own.”

“Well, now you do,” Ariadne said, indicating the gear in Grace’s hands.

Grace smiled, and it made her look much prettier, Ariadne thought. This was quite a feat, seeing as how she was already quite gorgeous. It was as though it thawed something in Grace’s features, making her seem warm and kind. Ariadne decided to make it a priority to make Grace smile more.

After Grace changed, they headed outside. Ariadne was increasingly excited about the prospect of training Grace.

She figured they could start with fighting stances, then move on to hand-to-hand, then staffs. 

Grace was surprisingly competent about stances and hand-to-hand for what little experience she’d claimed to have. They were able to move on from instruction quickly enough and begin sparring. Neither of them could quite get the advantage, Ariadne because she was holding back to spare Grace’s feelings, and Grace because she simply had no real experience. 

Eventually, Ariadne managed to hook her foot behind Grace’s knee and pull, causing her to fall flat on her back. Unfortunately, this put Grace in the prime position to grab Ariadne’s legs and bring her down as well. They collapsed on top of each other in a fit of giggles. 

“Truce?” Grace gasped, struggling to keep her composure as she struggled to a sitting position. She extended her hand.

Ariadne eyed it from where she was propped up on her elbows, then grasped it and shook solidly. “Truce.”

They giggled again, helped each other stand, and began brushing themselves off. There was a fair amount of dirt and grass stains on Grace’s gear; Ariadne made a mental note to help her clean it off later. 

“Pardon me, Miss Bridgestock,” came a soft, motherly voice from the house door. Ariadne turned to find their maid, Mrs. Webster, watching them with a smile. Her dark hair was streaked with gray—Ariadne wondered when that had happened. She could’ve sworn it hadn’t been that way earlier this year. “I don’t mean to interrupt, miss, but there’s a young man by the name Mr. Carstairs here to see you. He’s waiting in the drawing room whenever you finish.”

“Oh.” It was all she could say. She turned to find Grace’s face had gone cold again. “Do you mind wrapping up for the day?”

Grace looked at her with steely eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Oh. All right. Er—let me know if you need anything, then.” Before she had even finished speaking, Grace was turning on her heel and pushing past Mrs. Webster.

Confused and greatly disheartened by the sudden loss of all the progress she’d made with Grace, Ariadne followed the maid inside and began walking toward the drawing room. She was stopped by a hand gripping her shoulder and spun around sharply to find Mrs. Webster staring at her with what could only be described as horror. “Miss Bridgestock, you are not truly going to entertain company in your fighting gear, are you?”

Ariadne blinked at her and let out a laugh. “It’s just Alastair, Mrs. Webster.”

“Ohhh, just Alastair, is it?” Mrs. Webster’s next look was far too knowing for Ariadne’s liking.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she said lightly. “He’s a friend. He probably just wants to talk for a bit, he won’t mind if I’m not dressed properly.”

“Your parents would mind,” Mrs. Webster replies meaningfully. “Especially after that whole ordeal with Mr. Fairchild and Miss Blackthorn—please, dear.” She gripped Ariadne’s arm. “For my peace of mind.”

It was a fair argument. Ariadne still had some semblance of a reputation to maintain. Figuring she might as well humor the old woman, Ariadne let out a sigh and headed toward the stairs. It took her several annoyingly long minutes to change out of her gear and find a suitable dress, and by the time she finished, she’d almost forgotten about Grace.

That was, until she stepped out of her room and found Grace glaring at her by the staircase, dressed in a dazzling display of lilac and silver. “I wish to speak to Alastair with you,” she said simply, then turned so fast her hair splayed out behind her and descended the stairs soundlessly as ever.

Ariadne followed, swallowing heavily and wondering what she was getting herself into. 

Alastair was standing already when they entered the room, examining the various paintings they had hanging on the walls. There was a jacket on the couch, which was odd—it wasn’t one that looked like it belonged to Alastair. He turned and, upon seeing Ariadne, did that thing where he very nearly smiled—his face relaxed and the corners of his mouth, rather than pointing down at an alarming angle, evened out into a straight line.

Then he caught sight of Grace, and his jaw tensed again. “Good morning Ariadne, Miss Blackthorn,” he nodded politely. His eyes lingered on Grace for a moment before he shot a displeased look at Ariadne. She shrugged, eyes wide, and gestured to the settee.

Alastair sat on the end farthest from the armchair Grace was occupying, gathering the strange jacket into his arms, leaving Ariadne to sigh irritatedly and sit in the middle of them to mediate. 

“How are you this morning, Alastair?” Ariadne asked blandly.

“Fine. Thank you.”

There was silence for a long moment.

Ariadne was about to comment on the weather—really, she should not have been allowed to ever attempt anything resembling small talk—when Alastair glanced and Grace, then back at her, and said, “Pardon me if this is out of line, but I had been hoping to discuss something privately with you, Ariadne. If this is a bad time, I can come by in the afternoon.”

He made to stand, but before he could, Grace interrupted, “Are you doing anything today, Mr. Carstairs?”

He looked stunned, the lowered himself back onto the couch. “Well, that’s actually what I wished to discuss with Ariadne. I did not want to be rude in excluding anyone from the conversation.”

Ariadne nearly winced at his tone. It was clear he had not wanted to include Grace in whatever he had planned.

“Just tell me,” she whispered. When Alastair glanced over her shoulder at Grace, she said, “It’s fine.”

Alastair sighed through nose and held up the jacket. “I ran into Christopher Lightwood last night.” A dozen questions raced through Ariadne’s head—where? when? why?—but before she could voice any of them, he was saying, “It’s a long story for another time, but I ended up with this—” he shook the jacket “—and I don’t know what to do.”

“The jacket is Christopher’s?” Ariadne questioned first.

“Thomas’s,” he corrected quietly.

Ariadne sucked in a breath and nodded in understanding. That would explain it, then.

“You should return it, then,” Grace said slowly. Alastair���s eyes slid over to hers blankly. “I could help, if you wish,” she continued, sitting up straighter. “Be a distraction. The Merry Thieves are far more cross with me than they are with you, I suspect.”

Ariadne looked between the two, waiting. After a few seconds, Alastair’s face softened again, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. “I would appreciate that. Thank you, Miss Blackthorn.”

“Please, Mr. Carstairs, call me Grace.”

Alastair narrowed his eyes even as he smiled. “Well. Then you must call me Alastair.”

Grace smiled fully, then, the warm smile from early that morning. Ariadne understood suddenly why the coldness had crept back when Mrs. Webster had announced Alastair’s arrival. She hadn’t wanted to be shut out by their friendship. The best solution, clearly, was to bring her into it, then.

“When do we leave?” Ariadne asked with an air of adventure, standing with her hands on her hips and looking between the two.

Alastair shrugged. “Now?”

They looked at Grace, who nodded, grinning. “Now.”

*hides* i’m sorry this took so long lol. pls tell me ur thoughts on mrs webster :) (more christopher to come i promise)

tagging @ohcoolnice @stxr-thxif @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @eugeniaslongsword @clockworknights @writeforjordelia @axoloteca @ninacarstairss @lifewouldbebetteronmars lmk if i forgot you or if you’d like to be added or if you want to be removed, i’m so disorganized at this point lol

[aimeelouart]

Repurposing a bit of server freewriting for part 2 of purring!Cloud (Saving Subject C AU). Lil’ bit of whump, lil’ bit of hurt/comfort, and lovely fluffy cuddles

Also doubles as a preview if we end up going in a certain direction, but tbh I doubt it. Either way, spoiler free.

--

Cloud held pressure across his stomach, grimacing as the pain came and went in throbbing waves. He’d already pulled the shrapnel out so his body wouldn’t seal around it. Now it was just a matter of staying still and keeping pressure on until it closed enough for him to safely move.

His chest was doing the fucking thing (he refused to put a name to it) but he couldn’t make it stop, which didn’t make any sense. Didn’t cats only...do the thing when they were happy? Why was it happening to him now? 

Fuck, at least the SOLDIERs weren’t around to hear it.

“Cloud!”

The call was still fairly distant. Cloud loosed an involuntary, irritated grunt at the sound. Shit, they were persistent. Maybe that wasn’t surprising. He had run off and destroyed Shinra property at the first available opportunity. With any luck, his hiding space would work until the hole in his side closed and he could make a proper escape. It didn’t have to be long. Just...long enough.

Gaia, he was starting to feel lightheaded. He cracked an eye open and checked the size of the blood puddle spreading from his side. It was much wider than he’d hoped. He might be in more trouble than he thought.

“There you are.”

Cloud breathed out a heartfelt “fuck” as Sephiroth’s voice reached him. Grimacing, he tilted his head enough to see the silver-haired demon kneeling and peering into the dark space beneath the broken lift Cloud was using for cover. He snarled at the man, but it was half-hearted at best. Even if he somehow found the strength to take up his commandeered knives again, he was too weak to run, never mind fight.

He’d miscalculated, and how he was going to pay for it.

But…

But.

Sephiroth didn’t sound angry when he dropped down onto his stomach and slid as far into the narrow space as he could. “Cloud, where are you hurt?” He sounded…concerned, alarmed, maybe even a little bit…afraid? “Cloud?”

“Fuck off,” Cloud slurred, confused. His sight was starting to gray a little bit around the edges. A real pang of concern shot through him. Had he missed an exit wound?

Sephiroth snorted a little, disbelieving. “Even when you are bleeding out, you still…” He reached, but even his long arm wasn’t quite enough to snag Cloud’s shirt. “Cloud, can you move toward me? Just a little bit.”

He hunkered down into himself, trying to apply more pressure. The pain was fading, and he still couldn’t make the stupid rumbling stop. “No.”

“I can’t help you unless you move a little bit, Cloud.”

“Fuck off,” he repeated, eyes starting to slide shut.

Another voice. “Seph?”

“He’s here. I can’t reach him.”

Cloud’s eyes shut all the way.

“Let me try. Here, Angeal, take my coat for a second.”

The voices were starting to sound like they were coming from underwater. Cloud felt, distantly, that this was definitely the point at which he should have been outright alarmed. He’d missed something. Probably an exit wound on his back, based on the blood loss. He’d be fine, even if they left him where he was, but they weren’t going to do that. He wished he had the strength to grab one of his knives.

“Cloud, sweetheart, can you say something?”

He found the will to say “fuck off” a third time. It sounded like “f’k ov.”

Genesis—that was Genesis—snorted. “Okay. Okay, I’ve…” Fingers snagged the edge of his sleeve. “…got you! I’ve got you, come on.” He pulled, sliding Cloud across the blood-slicked ground until he could grab an arm, and then Cloud was dragged from the safety of his hiding space and out into the light. Alarms were still going off in the distance. He smirked weakly.

“Shit, kiddo,” someone breathed as he was rolled onto his back. He couldn’t quite find the strength to keep his hand over the wound and it fell limply to the ground. “Did you⁠—is this a shrapnel wound? Cloud, did you pull it out?”

Duh, he thought, unable to articulate his disdain.

“Later, Genesis,” someone else said. Large, strong hands provided the compression Cloud wasn’t able to any more.

“I need to see his back. Get the shirt off.”

His shirt was cut off as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was shifted, then propped up across someone as two more hands pressed down on either side of his torso. Magic flooded his body, sealing the path carved through his flesh. The gray retreated a little as another flood of magical energy compensated for his blood loss until his body could make up the difference. 

And, finally, the stupid purring stopped. He really, really hated that it seemed to be involuntary.

Cloud was shifted again, wrapped up in something primarily leather and then picked up like a swaddled infant. Fucking rude, he thought, struggling to drag his leaden eyelids up. A vaguely silver blur hovered above his face. He tried to object, but what came out of his mouth was closer to a grumpy kitten growl than articulated displeasure.

“Hush,” someone said. It might have been the silver blur. A water bottle was pressed against his lips and since he wasn’t completely self destructive, he drank.

“Little idiot. What was your plan, hmm? To bleed out under there?”

That was probably Genesis. Out of pure spite, Cloud managed to spit out a “yeah” in response.

A frustrated noise. A tired sigh. A rumbling, half-stifled laugh against his ear.

“Stop antagonizing him,” someone said. A hand passed over his face, brushing his staggering eyelids down. Tired, he let them stay closed. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about appropriate responses to severe bodily harm later.”

And Cloud was...increasingly confused. It was hard to think, drained and cold and barely hanging on to consciousness, but none of this was what should have been happening. They were threatening...scoldings? No one was angry. He’d destroyed a massive amount of Shinra property, practically spat in their faces, and somehow no one was angry.

He shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill.

--

Cloud’s little stunt had scared the hell out of them. It wasn’t that they didn’t care that he’d demolished Shinra property and made their job fending off the Turks much, much more difficult—they did—but when they’d started searching, they really had thought it would be a tiny, lifeless body they found. Any anger and frustration they might have felt paled in comparison to the sheer relief of finding him alive.

Sephiroth was the one watching him (hiding him, more or less), while Genesis and Angeal dealt with getting all of them back to the Tower in one piece. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Cloud was so little and this event just reinforced the fact that only SOLDIERs had any hope of containing him. Hopefully that would bolster their argument rather than encourage Science to get involved, because...well, forget what he and Genesis and Angeal would do to save the kid, Cloud himself would rip the whole department to shreds using only his teeth if they even tried to take him.

On some distant level, Sephiroth wondered how Cloud had managed to ensnare the three of them (and more SOLDIERs besides) so quickly. Or at all. Sephiroth wasn’t supposed to have a heart. He was supposed to be the pure paragon of SOLDIER, a soulless weapon forged only to mete out death. But here he was, holding a child safe in his arms and feeling his breath stutter every time he wondered what it would have been like to find a cold, unmoving body beneath that broken equipment.

Cloud was asleep, face milk-pale where it rested against the dark leather of his coat. He had proper blankets now, and Sephiroth’s own body heat besides. Angeal had been very clear about that—Cloud was not to be without a heat source until he was no longer anemic.

Not that Sephiroth would have willingly put him down. He found himself oddly agitated at the thought of not being able to feel the boy’s heartbeat beneath his palm. And, more than that...he felt unwilling to give up the strange, powerful contentment he felt just having Cloud safe in his arms.

“Seph?”

He startled a little, moving his eyes from Cloud’s face to find Genesis standing with one hand on the door frame, watching them with an unreadable expression. “...yes?” Sephiroth responded when Genesis didn’t continue. He realized that he had been shifting back and forth from foot to foot without noticing. When had that started?

“...you’re purring.”

What? He stopped—he stopped breathing entirely, actually. They’d told him about Cloud’s near-violent reaction to his own purring weeks before, but only now did he really understand. Because humans weren’t meant to be able to do that.

“Hey,” Genesis said quickly, crossing over to touch his arm, “stop. I know what you’re thinking.” His eyes were unusually gentle, maybe because he was riding the same relieved high Sephiroth was. “But...aren’t you glad Cloud isn’t alone?”

Aren’t you glad you’re not alone?

And he...was. He really was, once the thought was put to words. Cloud had been frightened by his own body and abilities, but he didn’t need to be anymore. Not when Sephiroth was with him. Neither of them were alone.

The rumbling started back up. He thoughtlessly leaned his head down and pressed his cheek to Cloud’s damp, unruly hair. The boy smelled like mako and blood and explosives. Sephiroth didn’t mind at all.

Genesis huffed a laugh, but it choked a little, and Sephiroth cracked an eye open inquisitively. “You’ve...you’ve never been injured enough or happy enough to do this before, have you?” he asked.

Oh. Was that it? He thought it might have been in response to Cloud, somehow, but...he really hadn’t ever felt such powerful relief and contentment until today, had he? Objectively, that was probably sad—that’s what Genesis’s expression was telling him. He didn’t much care though. There were more important things to think about.

So he just hummed noncommittally and gathered Cloud a little closer, shutting his eyes again. When Genesis huffed a second laugh, it was much lighter.

“So,” Genesis said, nudging him, “when is it my turn to play space heater?”

Sephiroth growled.

[justmeandmysickies]

@angstyaches this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I hope you still like it!

Bonding

characters: Nick and Joe

warnings: emeto

„Please come over, I’m sick.“ That was all Nick had said, before the line clicked, indicating that the call had ended.

Now usually Joe would have called him right back to give him a piece of his mind – he wasn’t Nick’s mother after all – but it was different this time.

Nick was always whiny when sick. His usually so stoic and smug self would be replaced by the attitude of a needy 7-year-old as soon as he had the sniffles. And that was never a reason to worry. He’d be back to behaving like himself after a few days of resting, so Joe usually wouldn’t bother going over there to take care of him. Since Nick would be either sleeping or harassing him 24/7 it was simply not worth it.

But something about Nick’s call had Joe in his car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong. Nick hadn’t sounded whiny. He had sounded like he was in pain. Genuine pain. And Joe didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

He arrived at Nick’s building several minutes later, grocery bag filled with sick-day-supplies in hand.

Joe briefly wondered if his boyfriend had been smart enough to leave the apartment unlocked for him but fortunately the door swung open with ease.

Upon entering the small but cozy living room, he was immediately greeted by Fork, the red cat Nick had adopted just a few months prior to the beginning of their relationship. Joe had never understood that decision – he wasn’t particularly fond of the general concept of having pets, especially not the ones that could kill you in your sleep if they wanted to.

Nick however seemed to love his miniature tiger, so Joe had to live with that. Still, he couldn’t help the face of disgust as Fork rubbed up against his leg, leaving behind a trail of red hair on his black jeans.

Despite his obvious dislike for the cat, Joe stepped into the kitchen to check if his ill-stricken boyfriend had remembered to feed his pet. The food-bowl seemed reasonably full, so he started putting away the few groceries he had bought, ignoring Fork who was looking up at him expectantly as he opened up the cabinet that contained the cat treats.

Satisfied with himself, he closed the cabinets and grabbed some Gatorade for Nick to drink. Now came the hard stuff.

Joe had no idea how to care for other people. His entire life he had been taking care of himself but when it came to others he was at a loss. Maybe it was his lack of empathy. Or maybe it was his fear of things that aren’t in his control. Or he was simply scared that people would see that he actually cared. Whatever the reason, he usually avoided having to take care of someone at all costs. But this was his boyfriend, and he needed his help, so Joe had to suck it up.

And that’s why he braced himself with a deep breath and took off down the hallway to Nick’s bedroom, Fork right on his heels.

Joe opened the door in one swift motion, letting the two of them into the room. It was dark; Nick had pulled all the curtains closed. The sick man himself was only a lump buried in pillows and blankets.

Joe stood still for a few seconds, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was asleep, momentarily forgetting about the cat that had followed him into the room. And before he could stop him, Fork had already jumped up the bed, immediately cuddling close to his owner’s face.

Nick groaned and Joe could have slapped himself. He had probably been asleep before Fork decided to get in his face. “Fork, how the hell did you open the door?” The blonde asked, voice heavy with sleep as he gave his cat a little shove.

“He didn’t.” Joe answered as he stepped closer to the bed.

Nick looked up in confusion. He obviously hadn’t noticed Joe standing there. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

Joe frowned. That was alarming to say the least. “You called me.” He put a careful hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, fearing the worst. Nick just hummed, leaning into Joe’s cool palm, who clicked his tongue in concern. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temperature?” He drew his hand back and Nick whined at the loss of contact.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He mumbled quietly, burying himself deeper in his pillow.

“What do you mean you didn’t feel like taking your temperature? Have you at least taken some medicine?” Joe couldn’t decide if he was very irritated or very concerned.

“No, didn’t feel like doing that either.”

Irritated. He was definitely very irritated. And it took him every ounce of willpower to not yell at the sick man in front of him.

Joe took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’ll get you some medication in a second. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything.” Came the reply from deep within the covers. It was clear Nick didn’t feel like talking but in order to help him, Joe had to know what was going on.

“Babe.” Joe sighed impatiently, waiting for a useful answer.

Nick groaned but stuck his head out from under the covers anyway. He was quiet for a moment, before he answered. “Everything. I’m not kidding. But mainly my ear. It hurts so bad, when I first woke up this morning I actually cried for a while.”

He laughed nervously after the last part, trying to play it off as a joke but Joe knew it was true. Nick was honest when he wasn’t feeling well.

His concern only grew when Nick winced visibly, closed his eyes, and started taking deep breaths.

Joe thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Are you dizzy?” Nick hummed affirmatively. “Feel sick?” Another hum. “Does it feel like there is pressure in your ear or your head in general?” Nick stilled for a second, seemingly thinking about his answer before nodding.

“You have an ear infection.” Joe stated matter-of-factly. Unfortunately, he was all too familiar with the concept. He used to get ear infections all the time as a kid and even as an adult he still dealt with them every other year. The pain could be excruciating, at times having you unable to move. No wonder Nick was feeling so awful.

The latter only groaned, too exhausted to form words or even sentences.

“Alright, here is the deal.” In a way Joe was glad it was an ear infection – that was at least something he would be able to deal with. “I’ll get you some fever reducers and something to drink. You’ll take a bath and then you’ll go back to resting. If this isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll take you to a doctor.”

“Why do I need to take a bath?” Nick whined, once again burying his face under his blanket.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s childish behavior, Joe pulled the blanket lower to expose Nick’s face. “Because you stink. And it might make you feel better.”

Nick wanted to argue but Joe had already left the room to grab some medicine so there really was no point. He returned seconds later with some pills.

The next step was the bath. Nick reached his arms out and Joe pulled him upwards with seemingly no effort. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea. A wave of dizziness hit Nick like a truck as soon as he was upright. If it hadn’t been for Joe, he would have crumpled to the floor right then and there.

Joe held his partner close, encouraging him to take some deep breaths when suddenly Nick’s entire body convulsed with a dangerously wet sounding retch. He was trying to decide whether to get a bucket or get his boyfriend to the bathroom, but Nick made that decision for him as he bolted towards the door, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

He was so dizzy he could barely see where he was going – it was like his body was moving on autopilot. It’s a miracle he didn’t run face first into a wall.

He crashed to the floor in front of the toilet, just seconds before last nights meager dinner made a reappearance, along with the medicine he’d just taken.

Joe went after him hesitantly, wanting to help but not knowing how. He ultimately settled on keeping Nick’s hair out of his face. It wasn’t much but it was appreciated.

The entire ordeal seemed to be a one-and-done thing. The blonde was left panting and spitting excess saliva into the toilet for a while, but his stomach seemed to have calmed down for the time being.

“Why the fuck do you puke, when your ear is infected?” Nick asked breathlessly while wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure it’s cause of the pain.” Joe answered, getting up to turn on the water for the bathtub.

At that moment Fork casually strolled into the bathroom and right onto Nick’s lap where he immediately settled down, purring lovingly. The blonde couldn’t help but smile a bit as he scratched his cat behind his ear.

The three of them sat there in silence for a while, Nick being too exhausted to talk and Joe not knowing what to say anyway.

Joe once again helped his boyfriend to his feet, when the bath was ready, although a lot slower this time. He even helped the sick man undress before he turned to leave the bathroom. “Wash up, I’m gonna change your bedsheets.”

“But I’m too tired to bathe by myself.” Nick whined as he struggled to step into the tub.

Joe turned around slowly, not quite believing what his boyfriend had just said. “Are you telling me that you need my help bathing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please?” Nick pouted, which was a rather bizarre image, considering that he was muscular, over 6 feet tall and covered in tattoos.

The younger man sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting in with you. I literally just showered two hours ago.”

“Deal.”

Turns out, it was a good decision not to leave Nick alone. He was sleepy and if it hadn’t been for Joe, he would’ve probably drowned in his own bathtub. Right now Joe was carefully massaging shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp who was about to drift off to sleep. He had been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to stay awake with the heavenly feeling of Joe’s fingers in his hair.

And the latter didn’t mind. Any other day he’d yell at Nick for sleeping in the bathtub but not today. He could use the rest and Joe was there to watch him, make sure he was alright. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt him. So Joe started rinsing out the shampoo as Nick fell asleep.

Fork, who had been forced to get up from his owners lap several minutes ago, now decided to settle into the brunette’s side. He still wasn’t a fan of pets but maybe he could get used to this one, Joe thought, unable to hide the fond smile that had snuck up on him.

[skylarmoon71]

Harry Wells x Angel Reader- Oneshot (Flash)

"Are you shitting me!" Cisco yelled.

Cisco, Barry and Caitlin were currently locked in the pipeline. The meta responsible grinning at them. 

"You really shouldn't be so trusting. " 

The female snickered, waving the meta cuffs in her hands. Harry handcuffed at the side. He was pulling against his restraints angrily.

"Once again you've failed to keep our security up to mark Ramon."

"Not exactly the time for a lecture don't you think Harry!"

It was only a matter of time before Iris or even Joe realized something was wrong. The alert had already been sent out. What they didn't account for was you skating into the room. The urgency is clear on your face. You must have gotten the notification.

"Guys!!"

This particular meta was sporting super strength.

"And who is this, another member of team failure."

"Hey!" Cisco protests.

Dangling the power dampeners in her hands, she smiles at you. "If you're nice and obedient I just might let your friends stay in one piece. Now be a good girl and come here."

"(Y/N) get out of here!" Barry orders. You out of all of them did not have the advantage of being a meta. You did have something else however.

Something you hoped you'd never have to reveal to them. The situation right now though, it wasn't looking good. You weren't exactly sure just what this woman was after, but it was obvious you couldn't let her have it.

She moved closer, swinging a fist. You duck, kicking her in the stomach. Her body goes flying into the opposite wall. The force of your kick knocks her out completely, her body laying still on the floor. Harry's mouth falls open, stunned. You just kneel, bending the metal at his wrist so he can break free. He does, eyes never leaving you. Caitlin and the gang are still partially star struck. You just rub your arm nervously.

"I guess we have a lot to talk about. "

"You think!"

Today would be longer than expected.

~~~~

"Let me get this straight this whole time you've been a metahuman. Why didn't you tell us?" Cisco looks a bit hurt.

"I wasn't trying to keep it from you I just, I didn't know how to go about telling you. Cisco...I'm not a metahuman."

"Pardon?"

"I'm..well I've always been, you know. An angel."

"Angel as in, you're a really nice person or, like an actual winged flying celestial being?"

"The second one."

"This is...something." Caitlin mumbles. You knew it would be a lot to process. It's why you'd been doing such a good job at keeping it on the downlow.

"But aren't angels meant to be, up there?" Cisco points to the sky.

"We are usually. Some of us come down every once in a while to study humans. You guys are just really interesting." You try to hide your excitement, because the last thing you want is to make them uncomfortable.

"A-Anyway, I was just checking out some stuff and then well, I started to like it here so I stayed. I liked being around you guys. Amenadiel said it was fine as long as I didn't cause any trouble then I could stay." you gave an awkward smile. Harry is still in a state of shock. So is everyone else.

"Are you saying that you're an...actual angel?" Cisco questions. You nod. With a shrug of your shoulders your wings appear. It's so sudden that they all take a step back. The blue feathers look so beautiful. It spreads all the way out, probably a few inches longer than your arms. You shift, letting them slide back into your shoulder blades. Team Flash is still staring at you.

"Please say something." you plead.

Barry steps closer. "Are..are my parents.." He doesn't have to finish.

"They are." You smile. Barry lets out a soft relieved laugh. "Everyone is." you assure. You're referring to all of their losses, not just Barry's. Caitlin and Cisco appear a bit more relaxed, even a bit happy.

"So..c-can I stay?"

Harry folds his arms. "Of course. With Ramon's lack of intelligence when it comes to security I presume we'll be seeing a lot more criminals walking in and out of here."

You clap your hands together, doing a little happy dance. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you run over giving Harry a hug, lifting his feet off the ground and his eyes go wide in alarm. You drop him back just as quick. "S-Sorry I, I forget my own strength sometimes." Cisco is snickering from the side.

"If you'd like to keep all your body parts attached I suggest you stay quiet Ramon." That shuts him up. He walks off, muttering about some upgrades. You're still grinning like a child.

"This is gonna be great!"

It felt nice to have everything out in the open.

No secrets. ~~~~

So Team Flash carried on as usual. You really thought things would get weird. It wasn't everyday you found out your friend was an angel. You told them of some of your adventures, and stubborn siblings.

The outcome was more beneficial than anything else. You had no idea it would turn out this well, otherwise you would have said something ages ago. All you really wanted was acceptance, and that's what they gave you. For you though, the person's opinion who meant the most was Harry. Heaven knows you've been crushing on him for ages. You were making your way through Star Labs to that very person now. Coming around the corner, you smile when you see him sitting in his chair, working on another great piece of tech.

"Hey Harry!"

Your usual peppy energy was quite the same as the day you got there. Harry was always curious behind your endless supply of optimism. You were like a ray of light, forever shining over him. Not that he'd admit that to you. He'd already been doing a poor job of keeping his feelings in check. Your true identity just added to the allure. He wasn't sure he could be more in love, then you had to be a freaking angel of all things.

He groaned internally.

"I'm definitely going to hell for some of the dreams I had about her."

Harry doesn't fully acknowledge you, and it's a bit worrying. You were hoping you'd never have to ask the question, but with the way he's been moving around you, you just had to ask .

"Are you afraid of me?"

He pauses, wondering if he heard that right.

"I know things are a bit different now, but I'm still the same person, Harry. I just hope that this doesn't change anything. " You look a bit more guarded, and Harry drops the wrench in his hands, moving from his desk.

Maybe he needed to work on his reactions. He never wanted you to feel like he was afraid, or even angry at you for holding such a secret.

"I'd never be afraid of you. You're one of the few people I trust with my life (Y/N)." Your face lights up.

"Somewhere deep down I always knew there was something extraordinary about you. I suppose now I know why." You press your hand on the table behind you, taken with the way his blue eyes gaze at you. You lower your eyes with a shy giggle.

"W-Well I'm glad! Thanks Harry." you're about to leave. You've said all that you needed to. But he stops right in front of you.

"Harry?"

"Would I get smited if I were to take advantage of this adorable angel?" The back of his hand brushes against your cheek, and you become a little light headed. He cups your face, and you can't produce words. He's close...so close.

"Umm..I.." You're babbling, and it makes Harry smile. He leans in, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back to gauge your reaction. Your lips are parted, eyes a bit glossed over.

"I think just a peck is still on the border of innocence, don't you agree. " His thumb slides over your plump lips, and he pulls back, about to move away. You grab at his sleeve, your desire clear as day. "One more.." you beg. Harry smirks. "If you insist."

He goes in for another and you sigh in content. Those pink lips of his are every definition of sin. His body is sturdy, taunt, firm. With his arms around you, it's near impossible not to feel everything. His hands have ventured down, and his palm slides up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. You need to regain some type of control on your body. 

With a huff, you pull back to get some oxygen back into your lungs. Harry kisses your cheek, chin, then your neck. You whine, because his hand is so warm against your skin, and his lips are trying to leave a mark everywhere they go. You close your eyes, hands trailing up his neck, gripping at his short dark hair. He responds, using his free hand to lift you onto the table. He still hasn't stopped his assault on your neck. He's driving you mad.

"Angel.."

The whisper topped with his teeth nipping at your neck makes you mewl. You jolt slightly when your wings pop out. The wind and length knocked a few papers over along with a cup that was sitting there. Harry looks up, chuckling under his breath. You blush, covering your face.

"I-I'm sorry."

That was embarrassing.

"Don't be." He doesn't look fazed in the least. Just continues kissing you. You laugh into the kiss, running your hands through his hair. 

"Seems like you got a thing for angels Harry."

"Guilty as charged." He mutters pulling off his shirt.

Some secrets weren't that bad he supposed.

[obsidiancreates]

The Wrong Realization (But A Welcome One)

4,012 words long

-----------------------------

Jonah wakes up with a headache like he’s got a hangover. He groans, putting his arm over his eyes as the dim light of his bedroom tries to burn out his retinas. Even with all of his thickest curtains closed and fastened together, the sunlight is still too harsh. Must be the way it’s reflecting off the snow.

He falls out of bed more so than gets out of bed, and lays on the floor for a moment. He reaches up to his nightstand and manages to pull down his phone, which bonks him on the temple on it’s way down. That gets him to wake up, with a shout and a dash of fight-or-flight response.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t even feel very rested! Granted, he did stay up most of the night listening to a new podcast he discovered... fascinating stuff, wonderful deep-dives into mythologies and legends from all over the world. Something a little lighter to relax to than his usual political commentary go-tos.

He stands up, and scrolls through his playlist until he finds a good morning podcast. He heads into the bathroom, ready to grapple with his hair to get it nice and presentable-

He looks into the mirror and freezes up. His hair is perfect. Exactly how he always strives to get it to look, and always falls just one stray strand short of. But now? Not a flyaway in sight.

“I could have sworn I took a shower,” he mumbles to himself. Maybe he just forgot to use shampoo? No, he would never. Maybe too much conditioner, then. But he’s always so careful not to overuse...

“I guess it saves time,” he says aloud. “No looking a gift horse in the mouth.” He picks up his toothbrush and gets to scrubbing, but pauses when he feels something stringy in his mouth.

He spits out the toothpaste foam, expecting a hair.

Instead, it’s a scraping of plastic from his toothbrush, and several bristles.

He stares for a moment, and then opens his mouth. Does he have something completely alarming stuck in his teeth? Did he somehow eat something metal?

... No, not as far as he can see. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Absolutely nothing. Completely fine.

On an unrelated note, the two little cuts in his lower lip that are perfectly aligned with his canines are starting to sting from the mint, so he hurries up and finishes brushing his teeth.

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The sun blinds him as he drives to work, and he has to manage mostly by listening to the traffic around him (which is absurdly loud today, he can hear it with his windows rolled up).

And the sunlight is harsh on his skin, too. Does he need to invest in better sunscreen? Maybe he should revisit that article he read about SPF effectiveness and how to choose the best one...

He gets into the parking lot and parks his car. He opens the door, and promptly slams it shut again with a yelp. His hands didn’t just feel burnt, it did burn!

Definitely needs to up his SPF! And research sudden sunlight sensitivity... his hand is bright pink.

He sits in the car for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. And then there’s a knock on his window. He startles, but relaxes when he sees it’s just Glenn. He rolls his window down just a bit. “Um, hi. Good-good morning, I mean.”

“Heyyyy, Jonah,” Glenn says with a smile. “So, um, I noticed you’re stuck in your car?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, I just um. Well you see I-I, um-”

“Need a hand?” Glenn’s smile is a bit strained, for some reason. “Because of the sun?”

“... Well I mean if-if you’re offering then it would be... rude to say no...”

Glenn opens up an umbrella, making Jonah shout in surprise. “Where did that-”

“Come on in under the shade!”

Jonah hesitates a moment, put off by Glenn’s... odd, energy. But he can’t stay in his car forever, so he gets out and walks in with Glenn under the safety of the umbrella.

“Thanks,” he says when they get inside. “I just um, I need to update my sunscreen, you know? And I just didn’t want to risk... my skin...”

“No, no, I completely get it,” Glenn assures. “The warm, life-giving rays of the sun can be very harsh sometimes!”

“... Y-yeah. Yeah.”

“Hey, um, Jerusha and I got you a gift, actually. She was so upset by the whole attack thing yesterday-”

“Oh, you guys didn't have to get me something-”

“Well, we wanted to, so um, here!”

Glenn hands Jonah a very, very wide-brimmed hat. There’s a little bat needle-pointed onto the sides. 

“Oh! Wow! Um, it’s... so big!”

“Maybe it’ll help until you update your sunscreen?” Glenn sounds hopeful. Too hopeful for Jonah to turn down. And... it would be functional, at least...

“Yes! Yes, I think this’ll be great for that, um, thank you! Thank you both, send Jerusha my-my thanks. For this. I can um, see she put some effort into customizing it! Just-just out of curiosity... why a bat?”

“Oh, well um, because of your situation.”

“... Situation, I don’t-”

“You know. The reason you burned?”

“... I still don’t understand-”

“HEYYYY, GUYS!” Amy butts in quite enthusiastically. “How’s it going this morning?”

“Oh, good!” Glenn says with a smile and a nod. “I was just giving Jonah this hat Jerusha made for him, because of his whole condition about being a vam-”

“OH HEY, Glenn, I actually really need your help with something!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come over here, with me, to... softlines!”

“Oh, okay. I’ll talk with you later, Jonah!”

“Okay! Buh-”

Amy drags Glenn away, leaving Jonah with his hand up in an unfinished wave.

“... Bye. I-I was saying... bye.”

Jonah looks at the hat, and heads off to the breakroom.

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“So does Jonah have them?” Cheyenne is saying when Jonah enters the room.

“I mean, he looked like he did when he was chasing that lady-”

“Do I have what?”

Mateo and Cheyenne startle. “Oh, Jonah! We didn’t see you there! You were like... really, quiet,” Cheyenne says with a slightly strained smile.

“Yeah. So... sneaky.” Mateo looks similarly stressed.

“Well I, I did just get new ultra-soft shoes, very comfortable but I’m not sure about the long-term arch support... but um, what do I have?”

“Um... standards, for your fashion. Sometimes you have them, sometimes you don’t... usually only when you’re chasing, after... someone to flirt with.”

“Oh. ... You-you thought I was trying to flirt with that woman, last night?”

Cheyenne shrugs. “You did literally chase her into the parking lot.”

“I-I guess I did. But I wasn’t attracted to her I mean, I wasn’t attracted to any customers yesterday, even though there were a few good looking ones, that made me laugh... but-but I’m not- I mean, I wasn’t flirting with anyone-”

Jonah babbles on for a good five minutes before Glenn finally comes in and starts the meeting.

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Jonah sighs and rubs his eyes as he mops up a puddle of... it’s either slushie vomit or watered-down blood (though he’s leaning towards slushie vomit, something in him just says it definitely isn’t blood).

He leans against the mop and closes his eyes for a moment. So tired... he felt okay this morning, but as the day creeps on he feels less and less awake...

“Excuse me?”

Jonah startles, yelping and dropping the mop. The customer jumps back as the mop drops.

“I am so sorry!” Jonah exclaims. “I um, I-I think I feel asleep, um, how can I-”

Jonah pauses, at a loss for words.

The customer, a man around Jonah’s age, looks concerned. “You alright, man?”

“Huh?” Jonah’s face feels hot (the first bit of warmth he’s felt in two days). “Oh, um, I-I just, that was very unprofessional of me.”

The customer shrugs. “It’s a Cloud 9, professional isn’t really expected.”

Jonah chuckles. He clears his throat. “So, um, how can-can I help you?”

“I was looking for the recycled paper towels?”

“Oh, yeah, um... let me help you find those. They’re only half recycled, though.”

“I know. But you do what you can on a budget, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Jonah laughs. He can’t stop looking at the guy’s face... why does he feel all jittery?

“Um, here we are. The closest Cloud 9 gets to activism.” Jonah sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. His mouth feels dry. Why is his mouth so dry? He licks his lips quickly while the customer isn’t looking.

“Better than I’ve been doing lately. Haven’t done a protest in months.”

“What kind of protests do you go to?” Why did he say that? He’s going to embarrass himself, oh no-

“Mostly wage labor ones, workers rights kind of things. Trying to get a union going at my job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, I know unions don’t have a great reputation in a lot of places but-”

“No! I mean uh, I love unions! I-I’ve been wanting one here since I started working! Just uh, don’t tell my boss that, hah.”

The customer smiles at Jonah, and Jonah wonders if the floor actually fell out from under him or if that’s all in his head.

“Well, thanks for helping me find this. Maybe we can talk about helping each other’s unions efforts if I see you again.”

“Yeah!” Jonah flashes a bright smile. “Sure! Sounds-sounds great! Um was really nice to meet you!”

The customer smiles again and walks away, and Jonah needs to lean against the isle.

He lets out a heavy breath, wondering what the hell is going on and what he is feeling. He looks down the isle to see if anyone is watching him.

Mateo, Cheyenne, Marcus, and Dina are all staring.

Jonah quickly walks away, shame burning his cheeks. So they noticed something, too.

“-looked like he was about to eat him alive-”

He’s too busy being completely embarrassed by hearing them whisper that to wonder how he just heard it from three isles away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah wakes up with a start as a cart rolls right over his leg. He shouts in pain and surprise, and then sighs at himself.

He peels the glue trap off of his face with a grimace. Cleaning the rat traps is a terrible time for his sudden and new case of what seems to be narcolepsy to strike. He sits up and rolls up his pant leg, expecting something nasty to greet him based on the crack he heard.

... Nothing. He frowns, and touches his leg. It doesn’t even sting.

“How did-”

“Jonah?”

Jonah looks up at Amy’s voice. She’s standing over him with a clipboard. “Oh, um... hi.”

“Hey. ... Why are you on the floor?”

“I was uh, cleaning the rat traps. And I... maybe fell asleep.”

“In the middle of the day?”

“... Yes...”

“Okay then. ... So um, I just... wanted to check in, for a minute. How’s it been going with customers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, have there been any... notable interactions, maybe, to throw an idea out there,” Amy says in her ‘I’m-hiding-the-real-reason-for-asking-this’ voice.

Jonah’s cheeks burn, and he’s sure he’s blushing. “They told you about that?”

“I... might’ve heard some gossip.”

“It-it was nothing, Amy. Really.”

“Are you sure? They said you keep looking at his neck-”

"Well I mean, he had a nice neck I-I guess but I was more looking at his face-”

“And that you licked your lips at him?”

“That-! My mouth was dry, and-and you know I hate chapped lips!”

“... And the hovering over him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say hovering, more like just watching and... admiring... but that-that’s normal! I’ve been doing that since high school! A good ally normalizes these things, and-and when straight men, yeah, can admire other men in a-a completely! Normal way! Then it um, it helps... break down! The stereotypes!”

Amy looks... perplexed. She shakes her head. “Wait, what are we-”

“I mean, everyone does it, too! Like-like you! I’m sure you’ve looked at-at other woman, and admired their appearance, without feeling feelings for them, right?”

“Well, I guess, but- wait, Jonah, did you-”

“I mean we all wonder in college, right? But I don’t like, I mean there’s nothing wrong with liking both I just- I don’t, I wondered but I never-”

“Okay, um, this isn’t what I came over here to talk to you about-”

“Maybe there was a moment or two where I thought it might’ve been a thing but I-I never acted and if I did like both I would have acted on that, I think-”

“Okay! Um, you’re working through something right now, that is, not what I thought you were working through, so um, I’ll just check up on you later...”

Amy backs away as Jonah keeps recounting half-baked thoughts and unfinished sentences about his time in college and his roommates one friend who maybe had the best hair Jonah’s ever seen but their friendly hair-war was not flirting he swears...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah doesn’t chew the carrot, just rolls it in his teeth as he stares at the wall, lost in thought.

“... Not hungry for you lunch?” Sandra asks tentatively.

Jonah shakes his head, only half-hearing her.

“... Are you hungry for something else? Like... a customer?”

Jonah stops, and pulls the carrot out of his mouth. “You heard about that too?”

Sandra’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“You did! Did- does everyone know about that?”

“Well, it-it’s been sort of, floating around-”

Jonah groans, putting his head in his hands.

“... So um... are you?”

“What? No! No, I am not hungry for him, that’s objectifying. Not that I- I mean, I’m a straight man, I can’t, objectify another man, because that implies attraction. ... Unless I’m playing into toxic masculinity stereotypes by believing that...”

“I don’t think you have to worry about falling into masculinity stereotypes,” Carol pipes up from another table.

Jonah looks at her, annoyed. Her eyes widen and she looks away. 

Jonah puts his head back into his hands. “This is a nightmare...”

“For all of us,” Sandra whispers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah sighs, slumping over onto the customer service counter. Garrett just looks at him, waiting for whatever Jonah has in store.

“... It normal for straight guys to admire other straight guys appearances, right?”

Garrett blinks. “Wow, just some casual conversation, huh?”

“Just- I mean, I know people are talking about-”

“You eyeing up that dude earlier like he was a steak?”

“... Yeah. That.”

“Dude, I don’t think this is the issue you should be focused on right now.”

“I know, I know! I’m in my thirties, I should have this figured out and be focusing on more important things-”

“Not what I meant, actually, I meant the superpowers-”

“-but I don’t know, I’ve never really had anyone point it out before! And-and now I can’t stop thinking like, am I? Attracted?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong if you are, right?”

“Yes, I do, I’ve been to a bunch of rallies and stuff.”

“Did you oogle dudes at those rallies?”

“NO! ... I mean I guess I observed and-and appreciated-”

“Yeah, you might just be on the gay spectrum, dude. I don’t know what else to tell you. Except that, uh, you just accidentally slapped my shoulder and you’re as cold as a bag of ice, so maybe that should be your crisis of the day.”

Jonah is staring off into space, rubbing his arm. It doesn’t seem like he heard Garrett at all. Garrett just sighs, and rolls away.

Jonah stays there, contemplating, for quite a while.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, no more dancing around it.”

Jonah jerks awake. Again. God, why can’t he stay awake? ... Probably because he stayed up all night.

“No, Cheyenne.”

Jonah looks around. He peeks into the next isle, and then the next. 

... Where the hell are Cheyenne and Amy? He can hear them so clearly...

“He’s like, totally oblivious to it!”

“He’ll realize it eventually, okay? It’s not some truth bomb we can just drop on him.”

“My friends drop truth bombs on me all the time, and it just brings us closer. Best bitches don’t lie to their best bitches.”

“... Right. But, it’s kind of something for him to take the time to process.”

“What if he doesn’t? He’s just gonna like, wander around forever making excuses and being all nervous and confused.”

“Well... then we’ll give him a push. But for now let’s just... give him some space. Let him come to terms with it on his own.”

Jonah is startled out of his accidental eavesdropping by hearing himself sniffle. He quickly wipes his eyes, sticks his hands in his pockets, and hurries away. He still doesn’t know how he heard them, maybe some kind of really weird echo or sound tunnel. So he goes to the other side of the store entirely and finds the chattiest customer he can.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He can feel Dina and Mateo staring at him as he restocks softlines. They whisper to each other, and he sighs and hangs his head. “You know, it makes it worse when you talk behind my back.”

Mateo yelps a little. He clears his throat and quickly composes himself. “Sorry. Uh, we were just talking about-”

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m... aware, okay? And I just would like to stop hearing about it for now, please.”

Mateo looks taken aback by the tiredness in Jonah’s voice, the... weary tone. Dina, however...

“Yeah, well, not exactly something to brush under the rug.”

“Why do you even care? It’s a me problem, okay?”

“Really? You think this doesn’t impact everyone?”

“How! Would it even do that?!”

“Well, let’s see! It made Mateo afraid, it made Amy all somber and worried about you, it made Glenn cry even more than usual-”

“It did?”

“He started a trust fund for your soul.”

“... Oh.”

Dina stops, her frown slowly becoming more confused. “You... didn’t realize that would happen?”

“... I don’t know, I guess I thought... thought he’d be more open-minded.”

“Glenn?”

Jonah takes a deep breath. Ugh, why’d it make his chest hurt? Why do his lungs feel like they don’t want the air? 

The next thing he knows he’s done with softlines (it felt like he got done in the blink of an eye) and walking away. He swallows down the lump in his throat, and the urge to comfort eat. God, he’s craving a snack now. Well, he has all day, but he’s been... a little distracted.

“Excuse me? Hello? Hey!”

Jonah looks up at the customer, still feeling drained and empty.

“Finally, god. How useless do they let you people be around here? I’m looking for the shock collars, my dog keeps licking me when I tell him not to.”

“... That’s a really, really shitty thing to do to your dog.” Jonah doesn’t really mean to say it, but he’s just sort of on autopilot now.

For some reason, the customer doesn’t reply. Just stiffens.

“Follow me. I’ll sort you right out.” Jonah thinks he smiles at them. But he can’t be sure, because at that moment he blacks out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah shrugs his coat on, not looking anyone else in the eye as they all file out to clock out.

He waits until the very end, and clocks out last. Maybe he can avoid them all by waiting long enough?

Ugh, he can’t. He feels restless. Looking like another sleepless night already. Two in a row, great. Maybe that’s why he had that blackout. He still isn’t sure where the customer went, nor how he ended up in the No-Go zone of the Gardening Section...

Whatever. They were a jerk, anyway. Maybe he talked some sense into them? He did that during a blackout yesterday. Maybe it’s stress, then?

He keeps his head down as he thinks about it (trying to avoid some other, more introspective thoughts) and walks out.

He lifts his head as he exits the breakroom to find everyone standing in a group, smiling softly.

“Um... what’s going on?” He claps his hands behind his back. Please don’t let this be more teas-

“We know we’ve made you uncomfortable today,” Mateo pipes up. “And after talking to Garrett about your guys’s conversation, we realized we had the totally wrong idea about everything.”

Glenn steps forward and hugs Jonah. “I accept you no matter what,” he says firmly. “I would never start a fund to save your soul for being gay, that was a complete misunderstanding! You like whoever you like, Jonah!”

“And I didn’t mean to badger you,” Dina admits with her shoulder a little sunk. “I didn’t quite understand what you were going through in your head, and I made some assumptions. Wrong ones.”

“We all care about you, Jonah,” Amy says, prying Glenn off of the poor man. “Okay? We just want you to know that. Today we were being really, really shitty. But it won’t happen again.”

For the second time today, Jonah isn’t aware he’s crying until he hears himself sniffle.

“I just- I feel really, really stupid,” he admits, wiping his eyes with his palms. He laughs, not quite bitterly, but not happy. “I mean, I’m in my thirties. I-I had... so many obvious moments where I should have realized! How... oblivious, am I?”

There’s a bit of an awkward air to the group after that comment. But Amy hugs Jonah, and he feels a little... spark, in his chest. It’s nice. 

His chest has felt pretty heavy and empty all day.

“Everyone comes to terms with stuff at their own pace,” Amy says. “I lived in an unhappy marriage for years because I couldn’t accept the obvious. What matters is that you got to this point of realization, okay?”

Jonah hugs back. He thinks he feels Amy shiver, but he brushes past it. They pull apart, and Jonah sniffs and wipes his eyes again.

“And I um. I-I don’t think I’m... fully, gay,” he says slowly. He hesitates, mouth open, the words stuck. “I think... I think I’m Bi.”

There’s a moment of silence. He smiles a little, and stands a bit straighter. That feels... really right. “I think I’m Bi,” he repeats.

Sandra claps for a second, but no-one joins in. She lowers her hands slowly.

“Wow! Hah! That feels- wow! God, that feels good! Um,, what-what now, though?”

Garrett shrugs. “Flirt with some dudes? Some people in-between dudes and chicks? I don’t know, man, it’s your life.”

“Your long, long life,” Dina mutters to herself.

“Right! Oh, yeah, uh... that guy! From earlier! I-I think I want to see him again. Okay, uh, I’m going to go home, and-and maybe research some local protests he might be at-”

Everyone groans a little.

“Protester Jonah is the preachiest Jonah,” Garrett says, shaking his head.

“Can he still be preachy? Wouldn’t that hurt?” Cheyenne whispers to Glenn. 

Glenn shrugs. “I’ll ask Pastor Craig,” he whispers back.

Jonah doesn’t even notice. “Okay! I’m going to head home! I kinda feel like, I don’t know, like this is a whole new chapter in my life! Um, how do we- I mean how do- do we do a group hug, or-or maybe a high-five-”

“Or we just head home.”

“Yeah, no, Garrett’s right, head home. Let’s all head home!”

They all head out to their cars. Jonah gets into his, plops down into the drivers seat, and grins.

What a freeing realization! He doesn’t know how he missed it, it was all so obvious! 

Well, as far as he knows, there’s no other huge life-revelations waiting for him. He’s figured it all out, finally.

He starts driving home, humming along with the radio as the car next to him keeps pace, despite being in the faster lane. He never understands why people do that when the roads are empty. He chuckles to himself. Maybe he’ll realize that Life Mystery tomorrow.

What he doesn’t realize, neither when he gets home nor when he wakes the next morning, is that he never turned his own radio on. 

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…” 

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

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[shipskicksandgiggles]

Title: Not Every (No Good, Rotten, Very Bad) Day

Pairing(s): Harley Keener x Peter Parker, Sam Wilson x Steve Rogers

Summary: 

Harley was having a no good, rotten, very bad day.

“If one more person tells me I look like Captain America, I’m going to lose my shit.”

Warnings: none

A/N: Captain Wilson. that’s it

AO3 Link: x

~~~

Harley was having a no good, rotten, very bad day. Thank god Peter was meeting him for coffee because he was going to scream, and Peter always seemed to get it. 

So obviously when someone bumped into him in line, he just assumed it was Peter without even looking. 

“If one more person tells me I look like Captain America, I’m going to lose my shit.”

The guy, to his credit, did not seem horribly alarmed that a stranger was talking to him. He looked up from his phone to stare at Harley through a pair of wide rimmed glasses. “I’m sorry?”

No Good. 

Rotten. 

Very Bad Day.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

 The guy laughed. “That’s okay. I am curious though, is it an insult to be told you look like Captain America?”

He groaned. “It is when Captain America is a black man and you’re the kind of white that sunburns in the winter! I mean, come on. Captain Rogers passed on the shield over a year ago now, and people still aren’t recognizing Sam Wilson as The Captain America. If someone told me I looked like Steve Rogers, I’d be fine with it, don’t get me wrong. Most any somewhat attractive white guy with blonde hair who goes to the gym a few times a week has the capacity to look like him. Hell, you probably know what I’m talking about.” He gave the guy a once over. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if it happened to you more than me. Take away the glasses, and you’d probably have the superhero look, although given how tall you are I could see more people calling you Thor.” 

The man looked down at himself, as if just noticing his own appearance. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but that doesn’t exactly happen to me.”

“Consider yourself lucky then. Look, I’m sorry to unload all this on you, but I was under the impression that racism was better north of the Mason Dixon Line. But no, instead of being outright racist, people up here are just completely ignorant of their own biases and how their language affects people of color. God.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” He paused while Harley ordered his coffee. Iced with vanilla syrup for himself, and a tea for Peter. “Honestly, my partner would probably have more to say than I do, but you’re definitely not wrong about any of that.”

Harley smiled. “Thanks man, that means a lot.”

Before he could pay for the drinks, the man stopped him. “Put it on my tab,” he told the barista. Then before Harley could protest: “More people should think like you, son. It’s no trouble.”

He didn’t know how to respond, so he mumbled out his thanks and stood off to the side to wait for his order. Maybe some people weren’t so bad. The guy waved to him before he went and sat down at his own table, and Harley settled in to wait for Peter. 

And there was his darling boyfriend now. 

“What did I miss?” 

Harley let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“That bad, huh?”

He nodded. 

“Need to go on another rant about Captain America?”

God, he knew him so well. “I got it out of my system already, I’m just tired.”

Peter looked at him in surprise. “How did you manage to get it out of your system already? I haven’t seen you since you left the apartment this morning. Don’t tell me you vented to a complete stranger about it.”

Harley didn’t say anything. 

“Oh my god, you vented to a complete stranger about it.”

“In my defense, I thought you were standing next to me. Plus he actually agreed, so it wasn’t like it was a total loss.”

“Only you, Harles,” Peter shook his head. “Can’t take you anywhere, can I? Alright, out with it then. Where’d you run into the poor bastard?”

“In line to get coffee.”

“Here?”

“Yeah, I think he’s sitting at a table near the back. Nice guy.”

Peter glanced around the shop. “What’s he look like?”

“Big and blonde and vaguely hipster. Probably has my problem worse than I do, but people are scared of the muscles.”

“Shit babe, you’re lucky he didn’t crush you for talking to him.”

“Given my day, I wouldn’t have been terribly upset by that outcome.”

“Harley!” Peter admonished. 

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m sick of it! I don’t care if people don’t mean to be racist, it still is and I’m fucking sick of it!”

“I know babe, I know you are.”

The bell above the door jingled when someone came in, but beyond being confused when someone raced past their table, they gave it no attention. 

“How was the job interview?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “The company values suck, but the paycheck would be so much nicer than the wages I get from the bodega.”

“Any word on that internship from Stark Industries?”

He groaned. “They told me it was likely that I wouldn’t hear anything until next week, and I still don’t know what the pay scale is gonna look like or who I would be working under. The fact that it’s a paid internship is fantastic, but there’s so much that’s up in the air. Hell, who knows if I’ll even get it.”

“You will,” Harley assured him. “They’d be stupid to not hire you.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” “Excuse me?” The man Harley had spoken to in line walked up to their table. “I don’t mean to intrude, but-” he motioned behind him “-I was on the phone with my partner when you started talking to me, and he heard what you said.”

Another man stepped forward. Harley took him in. He was almost as tall as the first guy, with dark skin and a similar authoritative stance as the man he was standing next to. Honestly, if Harley wasn’t mistaken- “Holy shit you’re Captain America.”

Sam Wilson (Captain America!!! his brain helpfully supplied) laughed. “Sure am.”

“Holy fuck I complained about being told I look like Steve Rogers to the Steve Rogers,” he said, completely mortified. Peter looked like he was about to die of holding in his laughter. 

Rogers chuckled. “Can’t say that’s ever happened before.”

“Well I, for one, thought it was hilarious,” Wilson added helpfully. “It’s not everyday you get to hear people complain about the racism behind Captain America’s image while dissing the original copy.”

This wasn’t real. There was no way in hell this was happening. “Did I die?” he turned and asked Peter. “Be honest, am I dead?”

“If you are, would this be heaven or hell?” Peter asked. 

“What the fuck?” he breathed. 

“We’re sorry to ambush you like this-” and he really did look apologetic “-but everything you said, it meant a lot to me. It’s hard still being stuck in this guy’s shadow most days, and to hear someone so loudly recognize and shame the reasons behind it-” he choked up, and Rogers rubbed his back. 

Harley stood up before he realized what he was doing and grasped his hand. “You’re a hero, Captain Wilson. You’re my hero, and everything I told Captain Rogers is true: the fact that people don’t see you for who you are and for what you and your mantel stand for is unfair and completely contradictory of everything that America is supposed to stand for.”

And then he was being hugged. By Captain America. 

This couldn’t possibly be real life. 

“Wilson, you can’t just run off like that!” A new voice jutted in. “Jesus Christ, you took off like a bat outta hell. I had to check to make sure there weren��t aliens trying to take over Midtown again!”

He heard Peter let out a gasp. 

Captain Wilson let him go in favor of turning to speak to the new person. “Sorry Tones, I needed to come down here and meet the kid that told Steve to his face that I was the only Captain America.”

And then Harley was being faced with a mildly ticked off Tony Stark. 

Yeah, no, there was no way he was alive anymore.

“You told Steve Rogers what?”

“That… Sam Wilson… is the one and only Captain America?” 

Harley was going to die, he was sure of it. Iron Man was going to kill him. 

He… did not die. Instead, Stark let out an ungodly snort. “Kid, that’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. You’re absolutely correct. What’s your name? Do you need a job? Because I will hire you to follow Steve around and say that while occasionally yelling positivity at Wilson.”

“My name is Harley? I don’t-”

“Is that a question or a statement? Spit it out, kiddo.”

“Tony,” Rogers gave him an exasperated sigh. 

“Oh my god.” Peter’s face had gone pale, and Harley would have been worried he was about to pass out had he not had the same concerns for himself.

Stark turned his attention to Peter. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe so, sir.”

“Are you sure? I swear-” he snapped his fingers. “Pepper put your job application on my desk yesterday. Parker, right?”

“I’m- yes, sir. I’m Peter Parker.” He shook his hand. “Wait, my job application?”

“I’ve been looking for a personal intern, and the hiring committee liked your stuff. They referred you to me. Actually, I was gonna call you later on, but you’re hired if you want the job.”

Peter blinked once. Twice. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. Took a deep breath. “I’m gonna scream. That’s it, this is my breaking point.” He turned and looked at Harley. “Do you see what you’ve done? I’m gonna die and it’s all your fault because you can’t keep your goddamn mouth shut.”

Harley wheezed so violently that he was forced to sit down. 

“I’m sorry, do you not want the job?” Stark asked. 

Peter broke out into a grin. “Of course I want the job! Mr. Stark, it would be a literal honor to work with you. I’m just sorry this is how we had to meet.”

“Call me Tony, kid. And meeting you this way has already given me so much more faith in you than any stuffy interview process ever would’ve. I’ll have HR email you the entry paperwork and you can start next week if that’s alright.”

“It’s more than alright,” Peter told him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call.” He shot Harley one last glare before grabbing his phone and walking outside. 

The door closed behind him, and Harley watched as he looked up at the sky and screamed. No one even questioned it as they walked past. God bless New York. 

Tony promptly took up residence in the chair Peter vacated, and the other men dragged up a couple more chairs. 

“We’re sorry we ambushed your date,” Wilson said. “I hope he’s okay.”

Harley took a shuddery breath. “I think we’re both a little overwhelmed. It’s not every day you meet your heroes.”

“Ah, c’mon, we’re just people.” The other two stared at Rogers dubiously. “Okay so they’re people. I had a little bit of help.”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Dumbass.”

Tony leaned over to smack Rogers upside the head. “I don’t know why we keep you around,” he said. Then he turned back to Harley. “I’m only about half-joking when I say I’ll hire you to spit that rhetoric on repeat all the time, by the way.”

Harley laughed. “Unfortunately for the Original Copy over here, I do have a job already, but thanks for the offer.”

Rogers sent a withering glare Tony’s way. “What do you do, then?” he asked Harley. 

“I’m a mechanic.”

Tony hummed appreciatively. “I approve. You work at a garage?”

“Training to take it over, actually. Kings in Queens.”

“Now why do I know that name?” The billionaire seemed to search his memory banks for something. “My driver takes his cars to you!”

“You don’t fix them yourself?” Harley asked, surprised by that bit of information. Sure, he’d fixed some cars that were definitely worth more than his life before, but one of Tony Stark’s? 

He shook his head. Before he could answer as to why, Wilson piped back up. 

“Do you want to tell him how you try to put hover rockets on everything? Or should I.”

“Hover rockets?” What he would give to get his hands on those… 

“I don’t see what your issue is, Wings.”

“The wings are the issue, Tones. I don’t need rockets, and neither do your cars.”

“But they’re so much fun!”

Then Wilson got a mischievous look in his eye. 

“Sam,” Rogers sighed. 

“Maybe Barnes would like a set in his arm. Then we wouldn’t have to carry him everywhere.”

Tony’s eyes went wide as he started tapping something out on his phone. “Yeah. Yeah. That’ll work.” He didn’t even say ‘Goodbye’ before he was walking back out the door. 

He did clap Peter on the shoulder and remind him to check his email though. Harley wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not. 

“We’re gonna have to go save him from himself, huh?” Wilson said, staring in the direction he’d gone. 

“And save Bucky from being launched into orbit.” Rogers sighed again. He turned back to Harley and Peter. “It was great to meet you kids.

Wilson nodded with him. “And hopefully we see you around. If you’re going to be around the Tower, I imagine we’ll run into each other now and again. Just try and keep Tones from blowing more shit up.”

“Knowing him, he’s only gonna make the problem worse,” Harley told him. Peter started to protest, but Harley wasn’t having it. “I’m not lying to Captain America, Peter. You’re a disaster.”

He squawked. 

“As much as I love how insistent you are about calling me Cap, everyone else calls me Sam,” Cap- no, sorry Sam- said. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Rogers said. “If you’re gonna be around though, you might as well call us by our actual names.”

Peter smiled. “Sure. Are you around the Tower a lot?”

“Most of us are when we’re not on missions,” Sam said. “It’s chaos. You’re gonna love it.”

“I’m sure I’d love it no matter what.”

Steve let out a loud groan when he got a text notification. “Bucky’s playing hide-and-go-seek to get away from Tony. We should probably go handle that.”

“Chaos. Pure chaos,” Sam muttered. “Seriously, great to meet you both!” he shouted as he ran out the door with Steve in tow. 

They sat in silence for a few moments after they left. 

“That… that just happened right?” Harley asked. 

Peter just nodded mutely.

~~~

He thought that would be the end of it. Peter got the paperwork for his new job and was going to be working with Tony Stark five days a week. 

Harley was honestly just happy he could say he met some of his idols. 

And then obviously Black Widow (“Call me Nat,” she’d said before handing him the keys) rode a motorcycle into his garage and took a video of him fixing the issue. 

Moments later, he was talking engines with Tony Stark over video call. 

Becoming the official civilian mechanic for the Avengers wasn’t exactly on his list of things to do, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

[hanjizung]

Gym buddies.

Changbin x Reader.

Word count:  2.8K

♡ Warnings ♡: smut, fingering, oral (f), spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex.

Second request [12) "you don't have to be gentle with me, I don't break easily”] from this list. Hope you enjoy it!!

You had seen him around at the gym a few days ago, your eyes trying to dissimulate how you practically ate him up, staring shamelessly at his big muscles through the mirror whenever he was lifting weights.

He was a regular there, just like you, so of course you were sure that he had seen you there, confirming that one day when you accidentally looked at him through the corner of your eye checking you out. He was biting his lip as he examined your body without knowing that you were staring at him, blushing when you were aware he had his eyes on you.

Since that day when you felt his piercing gaze on you, you started wearing tight clothes and staying more than what you used to after your routines hoping that he would approach you and talk to you, ask you on a date or something, anything.

But he never did, he always went to shower when he received a call at almost midnight. You always saw him picking up his phone at 11:40 pm, when the only people actually using the gym machinery were you and him, the quiet voices of the receptionists and music playing helped keep your mind distracted to the point where you stopped caring about your nameless gym buddy who wasn’t actually your buddy but that you still considered as one.

You sighed in defeat the fifth night he got a call, thinking that maybe he had a girlfriend to go back to at his home and that now he was off limits.

And since you lost interest in him, because in your mind that handsome stranger was already taken, you decided to change your routine hours. Again.

You turned off the alarm that indicated it was finally 9 pm, taking a towel and wiping the sweat off your forehead and looked around to the barely empty room. As usual, your 'gym buddy' was doing something in the machine he always used on thursdays, and at the other end of the place there was a couple flirting, the girl was giggling while the guy showed her his biceps.

You laughed, taking a sip of water from your bottle and walking to the lockers, taking your clean towel and walking to the showers ready to wash away all the gross fluids from your session.

The showers of the gym weren’t divided by gender, it was all a row of showers protected by walls and at the very back there was a sauna located that only vips were allowed to use, vips like yourself.

It was early, you could get in there and relax for a few minutes before driving home, so you went there instead of walking straight to the showers, closing the door behind you and closing your eyes when the room started to fill with steam.

The wooden door opened again, making you look in that direction alerted as to who was the person behind it, finding it difficult to see past all the steam that tried to escape through the door. It closed quickly, and soon, your gym buddy sat next to you, shirtless and probably naked under the towel wrapped around his waist.

When you realized who he was, your body tensed and you instantly looked away from him, closing your eyes tightly, mentally thankful that your cheeks were already hot from the steam to make it less obvious how much his presence affected you.

Trying too hard to ignore his existence, he seemed to have other plans in mind, clearing his throat to say something and interrupt the awkward silence between the two of you.

"Hey" his voice scared you at first, making you open your eyes to look at him. "I've seen you around here a lot. I'm Changbin, by the way."

He was looking at you through the steam, a kind smile on his face while he waited for your response to his meeting. You decided a simple nod would be too rude, so you finally opted to respond him.

"Nice to meet you, I'm glad to finally give a name to your face, gym buddy. You can call me Y/N" you answered, looking away from him and closing your eyes, trying your hardest to relax one more time.

Next to you, you heard the man hum, acknowledging your name. You spent a few minutes like that, feeling how he shamelessly looked at you up and down and was probably imagining how you looked under the towel.

Or at least that's what you wished he was doing, because thinking about him imagining what you looked like completely naked was turning you on, as much as you'd like to deny that. Fuck…

"Can I ask you something?" the question coming out of nowhere got your attention, and you opened your eyes to look at him with clear confusion drawn in your face. What could he probably want to ask you?

"Sure, ask ahead, Changbin" you blinked, you thought you saw his jaw tensing, but quickly made that thought to the side when he licked his beautiful lips to talk again.

"Why did you change the hours of your routine? I remember you used to arrive later than me and now when I get here you're halfway through your routine" his tone of voice lowered until the ending of his sentence was just a whisper. He noticed that you didn't spend the same time you used to, but you didn't know what to say now that he actually talked to you and brought it up.

"... I'd rather not talk about it. But why are you asking, do you miss me or something?" you asked him back, an eyebrow raised in a questioning way. He looked down at his hands resting on his thick thighs and sighed in defeat.

"I do, actually. I've been leaving earlier too" he admitted. That statement alone made you open your eyes wide.

"Yeah, sure, you're saying that you miss me but you're leaving earlier to spend more time with your girlfriend" you blurted.

Your hands flew to your mouth once you realized what you had said. You felt your heart shrinking and going pale. And just as quickly as you had said that, you stood up and made your way to the door, placing your hand on the handle without turning to look at Changbin's reaction.

Great, now you would have to look for another gymnasium to keep working out, your annual subscription to this one was all gone to waste and all of that because you weren’t thinking clear. You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you, but that was impossible. The only solution was running out of there and never looking back, forget you even met Changbin.

You stepped out of there, making your way to the showers. You stepped inside a cubicle, letting a surprised noise when another body pressed against yours and trapped you.

Large hands on your waist made you turn, Changbin's lips lost no time and instantly kissed yours with intensity.

"I don't have a girlfriend…" he murmured, resting his forehead against yours and sighing. Your lips felt tingly, a little numb from the kiss he had just given you, and you finally smiled in relief when your mind processed his words.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to hear you say those words" your arms rested around his shoulders, you pulled him closer again to return the kiss, this time being sweeter but still full with want, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips and play with yours until you both felt the lack of air in your lungs.

Changbin's body was pressed against you, close enough for you to feel his growing erection through the towel, making you blush at the contact. You were too flustered thinking about him that you didn't notice when his lips started traveling down on your neck, his hands firmly placed on your hips to keep you in place.

But you froze.

What were you thinking? This was a gym, the showers of a gym to be more exact, it was no place to be having sex.

As much as you also wanted Changbin to fuck you, you also were decent enough to wait to be somewhere else. "Changbin… Let's… let's stop, please" you pushed him away from you, his attentive eyes locking instantly with yours.

"I'm sorry, I understand if you don't want to continue, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" he apologized without even waiting for you to explain why you had asked him to stop.

"Changbin, I still want to do it, just… Not here. Let's go to my house, I live near, what do you say?" a smile on his face let you know he was fine with that and he walked out of your stall to get dressed. When you two were presentable again he followed you to your car to get to your place.

It was a quiet ride to your small department, Changbin rushed out of the car as soon as you parked to open your door with a kind smile adorning his face. You blushed at his act, making sure the car was safely locked and you walked to your home, Changbin followed you close behind.

Once you closed the door, Changbin tugged your arm and kissed you sweetly, almost as if he was afraid to hurt you. It made your heart swell, he was being really gentle and careful with you, and you appreciated the gesture.

But you'd seen that man working out, you'd been at the presence of his muscles and had seen how strong he was.

That was what you wanted, what you desired.

"Changbin" you separated from him, taking his face in your hands and looking at him with eyes full of lust "you don't have to be gentle with me, I don't break easily" you murmured, kissing his neck and taking his jacket off.

You heard him groan when you sucked on the skin of his neck, his pants getting tighter as his erection got harder, and he opted to stop losing time and give you what you wanted.

He turned you around, getting a surprised gasp out of your lips as he pushed your front against the door and pulled your joggers and panties down. You felt his hand snaking down through your torso, until his fingers found your aching sex. His fingers spreaded your folds, looking for that sensitive nub that would have your knees weak in no time.

You whimpered when Changbin found the objective, you moved in a bending position so you would be more comfortable. He removed his fingers from you, making you whine in complaint at the loss of stimulation, but soon those fingers were back touching you, feeling how he was making you feel.

He passed his fingers through your slit, making you look at him over your shoulder to find him kneeling, his face in front of your sex and his eyes incredibly dark, the view made you moan and when he stopped teasing your entrance and pushed a finger inside you, you closed your eyes and gasped deliciously.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, you felt your orgasm building more and more as the volume of your moans and incoherent babbling also increased, and just when you thought he was going to let you cum, Changbin removed his fingers from you. You whined, looking at him once again.

Both of his hands on your ass, he separated your butt cheeks and his tongue came in contact with your desperate pussy.

Your legs trembled, so you allowed your weight to fall against the door, one of your hands moving behind you to grab his head and push him further towards you, his tongue sinking more into you, making your insides feel warm and wetter.

But that wasn't enough, his tongue was good but you needed him somewhere else.

"Changbin, please…" you whimpered. The man growled, but complied to your silent request by cocooning your clit with his plump lips, kissing you there gently.

You felt your orgasm again, you clenched around nothing, and even before you could warn Changbin that you were about to cum, he talked with a raspy voice "I know you're close. Cum for me, angel."

And you followed his order, your juices slipping down your legs. Changbin hurried to try his best and lick you clean, but your shaky legs got his attention first, you seemed so weak… his cock twitched from seeing you so defenseless, breathing hard against the door, with your cheek pressed against the cold material it was made of.

He couldn't resist anymore, pulling his clothes down enough to free his throbbing cock. Changbin passed the red head of his member through your pussy before allowing himself inside you, letting out the sexiest moan you'd ever heard a man make, the sound of him making you clench around him to see if he would make that sinful noise again.

And he did, this time accompanied with a "fuck, you're… So tight around me, angel" with his raspy voice, driving you crazy.

He was gripping your waist, keeping you in place when he started to move slowly.

Your legs were shaking and you got to the conclusion that the only reason you were still standing was because he was holding you, using your hole to find his sweet release.

A slap on your ass got your attention, making you jump and moan when you started feeling the stinging on your butt, turning your neck to see him caressing the place of the impact, the skin there starting to change color.

"Do it… Do it again" you demanded between moans. He smiled, the pace of his thrust were still a little slow but the force of his palm against your ass recompensed the roughness you wanted from him.

You were met with another slap, this time on the other side and you moaned a little louder, and then suddenly he was pulling on your hair to bring you to his chest. You'd never had your hair being pulled before, but it was hot. He did it carefully, but determined. The sudden pull coming out of nowhere surprised you.

He let go of your hair, tangling his arms with yours behind your arched back and his thrust started increasing in speed.

"A-ah! Please, go faster!" you babbled.

"You can barely stand…" firm thrust came with his words, "and you want me to go faster? You're… you're such a needy baby" somehow, he managed to hold both of your arms with one of his and his free hand snaked down to your torso, pulling your shirt up and squeezing your boobs.

"Yes! I'm so needy f-for you… I need you Changbin… ah!" a pinch on your nipple distracted you.

"Please make me cum, make me f-feel good" you cried out.

He complied to your wishes, the new rhythm making you jump up and down faster and his cock inside you brushed against that sweet spot that had your mind completely blank. It didn't take much longer for you to cum again, your walls becoming tighter and making it harder for Changbin to hold his own release as well.

Everything felt so good, his fingers playing with your nipple and his dick buried deep inside you, it was all too much to process and your brain felt like static, you didn't even realize your eyes were closed and that you were cumming again.

"F-fuck, Y/N… I'm gonna cum soon, can I come inside you?" he asked, irregular breathing and tone agitated from all the effort he was putting on making you feel good.

Still recovering from your own high, you nodded at him and he finally allowed his climax to paint your insides a hot white, his thrusts stopping, both of you trying to catch your breath.

You stayed like that for a long, eternal minute, his seed feeling so warm inside you, it was a hot sensation, you liked it.

And then he finally pulled out completely from you, looking how his seed came out of your used hole and staring in fascination at the mess between your legs.

Noticing how your legs were inestable, Changbin took you in his arms and carried you to your comfy couch, sitting you on his lap.

"I have to admit, you're tougher than what you look like" he chuckled silently, making you blush.

"I'll take that as a compliment. You're pretty strong yourself, the gym really paid off for you, buddy" you answered him, your hand traveling to his bicep and squeezing it while you bit your lip. Now it was his time to blush slightly.

"How do you feel? Can you stand up or do you need to rest a little more?" his worried tone made your heart turn inside you, he seemed so preoccupied for you, it was very sweet.

"I'm good. We should have a round two in the shower" your eyebrows went up and down with the suggestion you made, making him giggle cutely.

"If we keep going you won't be able to walk or talk tomorrow, Y/N" Changbin warned, pinching your thigh playfully..

"Really? Now I wanna see if that's true."

"I'm not a liar, angel. Come on, let's go for that round two then."

[keorami]

Wow uh- I didn't expect people to actually like my writing that much, thanks you guys! I actually had another idea since I recently saw a post about a duo I actually enjoy a lot. So expect a LOT of fluff this time too and a little bit of angst! Nevermind I accidentally made it a bit angstier than expected

Since Dream was rescued by Techno and the Syndicate, he hadn't been doing much. Well, it was a mix of wasn't allowed to and couldn't do much. It apparently had taken an alarming amount of healing potions to reverse the damage from... the prison, and the toll it had taken on his body had him sleeping for a week straight. At least that's what Phil told him because he barely remembered any of it. It was the best sleep he had in a while though.

As of now he's still very weak, and was only allowed to walk around the house, but he barely left his room anyway. He knows Techno told him to make himself at home but... he hasn't lost yet.

"So, how are you doing Dreamie~?"

He came here today too. Why did he expect or hope otherwise?

Dream often played a game with him. He had to guess whether he was allowed to speak when asked a question. It wasn't his favorite game, but at least there was someone else to play with.

He chose to stay quiet.

"Dreamie, it's rude to ignore people when they ask you a question~"

Looks like he lost again. He wasn't very good at the game.

"Looks like I have to teach you again hm~?"

With every loss, comes the penalty.

He hadn't lost so far. He can't risk it.

So he just stays in his room, and writes. He knows he's allowed to do that. His memory still isn't the best, so he brought his diary with him.

Neither Techno nor Phil asked about what was inside. He was glad for that. He hopes they won't take it away from him.

He doesn't write about much though. There is very little stimulation in his room, and the only interesting thing is when Techno (or Phil, when he comes over) comes into his room to feed him and have a one-sided conversation with him. It's still better than prison though. Anything is better than prison.

It's almost time for lunch. Techno told him that he was going to be out the whole day with Phil and as such, couldn't bring him food today. That's fine, he's used to go without food for days, this is nothing.

So yeah, no one was supposed to knock at his door today. Which is why he jumped about a foot in the air when it actually happened. Who was it? Is Techno back earlier? But he would have told him it was him by now. Whoever was at the door has been silent the entire time. Is this another game? What should he do?

He hasn't heard them leave yet, do they know he's here? Should he speak up after all? But what if they get angry because he took too long to answer?

Looks like his time mulling it over would be cut short, as he suddenly had purple particles flying in his face. He knew what that meant.

"Hi, Boo."

Sure enough, once the particles dissipated, the tall, lanky figure of the enderman hybrid was looming over him. He knew for a fact that it was his Boo: Ranboo wasn't very good at teleporting yet.

He missed him, if he had to be honest. He missed him a lot. Boo was his friend, and he didn't have to play games with him. He could just... be.

"Boo?"

Dream still doesn't know why he stopped visiting back then. Maybe it was something he did. Maybe Boo just got sick of him. Or maybe he was just too busy to come visit. He hopes it was the last one.

Boo is crying.

He takes a moment to be surprised because what could he be crying about? Did something happen?

Then instincts he thought he had buried deep inside him resurfaced once more because Boo was crying and it was burning him.

Getting up from the bed took a lot more effort than Dream would have liked, and so did walking up to the ender hybrid- that still hadn't moved from his spot. He lightly dabbed at his scarred cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You're okay Boo."

And maybe it wasn't the right thing to say, because Boo just collapses on him and Dream barely avoids hitting the floor. Arms wrap around him and hold him tight; he both fears and craves the touch.

"I was so worried. I missed you so much."

Oh.

He can't believe it. He can't let himself believe it. That Boo was still his friend. That he still cared. That he didn't turn against him, abandoned him betrayed him tried to kill him-

He didn't believe it. So why...

"It's okay, I'm here now."

Why was he hugging back? Why was he comforting him? He never learned his lesson, did he? Here he was, caring and getting attached again. He will lose Boo just like he lost everyone else.

His hand instinctively went to ruffle Boo's hair, a practiced gesture that feels familiar yet completely new to him.

'Boo seems to like it when I run my hand through his hair. He says it helps him relax and feel safe.

That implies that he feels safe with me. It feels... nice? No one felt safe with me in a while. Granted, it's mostly my fault, but pushing them away was necessary. For their safety. For my plan. I wish I didn't h

I wonder when I'll have to push him away as well.'

Dream closes his diary and puts it back in the chest. He's noticing gaps in his memory and it's scaring him. Is the prison getting to him already? How long has it been?

Later on his diary would be thrown in the lava by Tommy, and that was when he started forgetting more. He gets a new one. He forgets that it wasn't the first one.

He doesn't know how long they've been at this, but eventually Boo stops crying and is calmed down enough that he lets go of him.

"I will wake up soon."

Ah.

Of course he will. Boo could never stay for long and most of his time was spent crying and getting comforted. Dream shouldn't feel so gutted. He knew this.

"You should go then."

Ranboo doesn't like him already, it's better if they don't interact any more than they have to.

"Not yet."

"Boo."

"I don't want to."

Maybe, just maybe, he kind of understands how Phil feels when either him or Techno is being difficult. Kind of.

"Please. You have to go."

He's not exactly fond of begging because when had it helped him before?, but whatever gets Boo to let go of him and just leave. The stupid stubborn little giant bastard.

"Just a bit longer."

It takes a surprising amount of restrain to not sigh. That's the best he's gonna get, isn't he?

"Just a bit then."

(Frankly, Techno had been worried about leaving Dream alone for so long, no matter how much Phil reassured that it would be fine. Between that and his chat screaming at him, you can't blame him for wanting to check on his friend- yes chat, Dream was his friend- as soon as they got back.

He expected many things upon opening the door, even the worst scenarios.

Dream and Ranboo sleeping on the floor with the latter's head on the former's lap was not one of them. To say he was confused was an understatement.

"Heh???"

Phil however, takes it in stride and simply closes the door again.

"Let's leave them be.")