#or their annoyance they want to share pictures and links because things remind them of me and even when I tell myself i could easily be

[katsudonkitten]

.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Dating Dean Winchester Would Include

You’d meet on a hunt [whether a hunter already or a victim it doesn't matter].

Because you’d leave with the boys after right meeting with them.

Your old life couldn't run alongside the new.

You’d instantly find Dean attractive.

But the risk of complicating things would be too big of one.

Dean would feel the same.

It would unnerve him so he’d kind of be an asshole at first.

There’d be a lot of mutual pining.

And Sam would catch on immediately. Especially once he noticed that the amount of conquests Dean had dwindled.

‘Just tell her.’ ‘Oh and get her killed? Sure Sammy.’ ‘You’re allowed to have a family Dean.’ ‘She is family…which is why I can’t lose her.’ 

After he’d get over himself he’d loosen up around you.

And even though you weren’t together you’d act just like a couple anyway.

You’d share a bed on hunts.

And somehow always end up cuddled up together whether in a motel bed or the impala.

He’d tell you he liked you accidentally.

Probably after he saved your ass on a hunt.

‘What the hell were you thinking!?’ ‘I was just…Dean did you just kiss me?’ ‘I, I mean,’ ‘Do it again.’ 

Nothing would really change except now you could actually touch one another.

And Dean would be insatiable.

You’d get caught at least once a day much to Sam’s annoyance or Cas’ embarrassment.

You were sure you’d had sex in every room of the bunker.

He knew what he was doing sure but he wasn’t a get-it-done kinda guy.

He was such a softy when it was just the pair of you. Alone. 

If you told anyone how much he enjoyed cuddling he would 100% deny it.

‘Dean we need to get up.’ ‘Five more minutes.’ ‘If Sam sees us in this back seat-’ ‘Sammy can grow the hell up. It’s my car. And if I want to spend my time butt ass naked with my best girl I will.’ 

He’d always worry about you.

He’d already lost so much.

You’d always catch him checking in on you [glancing at you in the rear view, .making sure you were still there in the middle of the night].

He’d definitely try to bench you from hunts.

And he’d hate that you and Sam could work around his points with logic.

‘It’s not safe. They could use you as a bargaining chip.’ ‘In that case, Sam and Cas better not go either then.’ ‘But-’ ‘You really think that I’m your only weak spot?’ ‘She’s got a point.’ ‘Can it Cas!’

You and Sam would love teasing him.

He’s really easy to wind up.

Cas would 100% try to join in.

You’d love cooking for them.

Your little dysfunctional family.

You’d even look up some pie recipes.

And you’d 100% use them whenever you wanted to get him on your side. He was a fickle man when it came to pie.

He’d want to get married.

For some reason he wanted you to be an official Winchester.

Nothing too big or flashy.

Just the family in the bunker.

Cas officiating with Sammy as his best man.

Slow dancing in the library [not in front of Sam because Dean refused to be tormented].

And he’d even take you on a ‘honeymoon’ .

You’d insist on taking a million pictures [some that were for your eyes only].

And they’d be put up around the bunker, tucked in your phone case, and inside Dean’s wallet to remind you of one other.

It wouldn’t be extravagant.

But a weekend away from work, the bunker and the craziness of your life was enough for you.

And he’d try and keep it up every anniversary.

THIS IS PART OF MY CHRISTMAS CHALLENGE. I’LL BE POSTING AN IMAGINE EVERDAY FROM 1ST - 25TH DECEMBER. THIS AND ALL IMAGINES WILL BE UPLOADED IN THE LINK POSTED DAY BY DAY.

ADVENT CALENDAR OF IMAGINES

[thunderclaw100]

[Kii belongs to @messinwitheddie ]

(I had this in my head for a while now and had to draw it out or I’d go mad if I didn’t!😅)

Tallest Miyuki was in the middle of talking with her wardrobe staff. They were showing her a few selections of silkwear and pictures of her next body armor. Miyuki is feeling picky today and had been flipping through one clothing to the next. Her mood has been sour lately and it’s because more than one thing that’s been on her mind. First: not being allowed to be with the Irken she loves. Second: loosing her sworm. Third: Only getting to eat a certain amount of food. Her waist is not getting any smaller and people have been talking about it.

“Uugh! What now?!”

Miyuki felt her pak buzzing and it can only mean one thing. A control brain his hailing her, and she knows which one. She got up from her lounge couch, dismissed her drones and then leave her chambers to reach to room where the green control brain is awaiting her arrival. Miyuki, already knows this is going to be a an discussion about another one of her foolish antics, if she can remember whatever is was.

“Greetings, material brain. You wanted to speak with me….again?” She said without a hint of annoyance. The green control brain made a robotic noise. The screen in the front static before a hologram figure appears in Irken form. Kii stands before Miyuki, with her materialize orange wardrobe and a cape to add a bit of flow to it. She looked as radiant as the day she was in her younger years.

“Tallest Miyuki, what we’re you thinking? Leading that soldier on like that, with your lovey-dovey nonsense?” Kii said. Hovering towards Miyuki. Staring her down with those green, judgmental eyes of hers.

“I don’t understand….what did I do wrong?”

“I’m talking about that little talk you had with that cadet, Red! You dult!” Kii spat.

How the heck did she find out about that? Miyuki was in her private chambers, where no telepathic link to the control brains can reach her. Surely Red did not say anything about this after their talk, right? Miyuki looked up at the material brain. The disappointment she was giving her. Or was that disgust?

“Cadet Red needed a little comfort and a nudge in the right direction he wants to be. He shared his pain with me and I did the same with him.” Miyuki told her. Feeling a little anxious with the way Kii is circling around her like a defenseless prey.

“You’re encouraging him to embrace attachments to another drone. Have you learned nothing from our discussion of Spork?”

That was a low blow to Miyuki’s chest. Why bring up something that will bring nothing but heartache? The green control brain stopped moving around and stood in front of Miyuki.

“Spork’s situation is different from cadet Reds. I don’t get why you’re so against drones falling in love? Surely you felt love once, my maternal grace.” Miyuki said. Kii turned away from her.

“Love….I had no need for such a weak emotion. I had many sires, but no male was good enough to satisfy me. I hated them all and wished for their demise. They did not give me what I want but I’ve seen what they’ve done to our females, Miyuki. Kii shutters.

“pfft but aren’t you now connected to two males?” Miyuki smirked, hand on her hip. Why would Kii say she hates males if she allowed herself to be linked with two other former bodied tallest? Did they have anything to do with why she’s so angry at the world?

“Sox and Hitz? We have history together. One I wish not to speak of. They are part of the problem but I have always have a dislike of males in general. This empire relies on pure strength and intelligent alone. There is no room for romance and petty little feelings. I did what I can to make sure OUR gender stays relevant to this day! You have no idea what these men have done to us in my time. I don’t expect you to understand. You’re too young. Kii told her. Clenching her fingers in reminder of an incident in her past. Miyuki’s eye twitch.

“Forgive me for being so blunt but you’ve completely lost your mind. I have lead this empire forward to a bright future. You’ve seen the massive, right? With it we can make our travels for conquest more efficient than ever. It shouldn’t matter what our drones do with each other as long as they contribute to our goal.”

Miyuki went on and on. Countering the mother brain’s criticism of her. But the further she speaks, the more angrier the green control brain was getting. Kii hovered over to her.

*SLAP!!*

Miyuki eyes widen in shock as she touched her left cheek. Kii is in hologram form but that sting from that slap felt all too real. Kii was fuming with anger. “NEVER HAVE I MET SUCH INSOLENCE FROM ONE OF MY OWN FEMALES! You do NOT get to speak to me as if I am a mere smeet, Miyuki.” Kii snapped.

“I’m sorry…..I didn’t realize I was venting out on you, my grace. I just didn’t think it should be a problem for me or any other female to love….”

Kii growled. She felt the urge to slap this woman again but regain herself. “I told you before, during our last conversation that I will not have you ruin the work I put into making our females worth more than what they are. You remind me of another female tallest I’ve once had measured. But even she did not talk to me with such disrespect! How dare you?!”

“But I was just trying to-“

Kii clamped her hand over Miyuki’s mouth. “Do not interrupt me! You were supposed to be the example for all Irken females. A symbol that shows WE can carry ourselves with pride and dignity. That we let NO fucking male determine what we should be and how we should live.”

Kii removed her hand and hovered back a little. Miyuki looked at her with wide eyes. “Stars….who hurt you?” She said.

“Men hurt me. Just like they will do to you if you don’t sharpen up on them. Don’t think I don’t know what you did behind my back. I may not reach you in your chambers, but I do have drones who will watch and listen to everything you do, Miyuki. You cannot hide behind my blind spot. Can’t you see I’m trying to save us? A man’s world has brought nothing but tyranny and injustice.” Kii said. She turned around to get ready to return to her own duties. Miyuki had one more thing to say.

“Material brain? All I ever wanted is to make you proud of me. Not just as a female but a leader who wants to make a difference in our world. From our own history, we’ve been through so much already. I only wished you’ve seen the better side of our accomplishments and not dwell in the bad parts that lead the Irken empire to where it is today. Hardship-“

“Do not speak to me about hardships, Miyuki. I’ve seen them. I LIVED through the ones that brought me up and broke me down! You know NOTHING about real hardship until you put yourself on the line of it. Kii’s hologram figure phases out for a few seconds. Her system still needs to be checked upon, so she needs to go.

“From now on, I don’t want you getting close to that Spork soldier. Only when he is needed for important work or used as your escort. I do not want to see any of our females taking after you and your sneaky performance with a male. Disgusting! You may go now, Miyuki. Hail the maintenance for me. I need a system repair.”

“As you wish, maternal brain….” Miyuki bowed her head respectfully. Then turned away to leave the chamber the same time Kii’s hologram figure disappears. This talk has left the tallest feeling conflicted and a bit hurt. Miyuki touched her left cheek, where the green control brain has slapped her. It still feels tender, and it made her rethink her actions, and hold her tongue the next time she is summoned by the control brains. Miyuki said nothing to her drones when they saw her. Then she returned to her chambers to reflect.

[bluestmoons]

@myloyalty​​ didn’t know what she was giving me permission for​

   The first time Leonie saw Jeremiah again was at a rather droll meeting. 

   Though the voices of her superiors were wickedly boring and unspirited, their message was anything but. They were sharing intel on the platoon that’d recently ravaged the ghettos, and they were all attempting to put together ways to strike back effectively. 

   ( This hardly ever worked. They were barely hanging on as was -- they simply didn’t have the time or resources to dismantle individual platoons. Still, extra information never hurt, did it...? ) 

   Leonie was flipping through the profiles on a device before her, skimming faces, names, sparse bios with a spattering of their accomplishments, when... 

   Tanned skin. Curled, dark hair. Thin gold eyes that pierced even in a photograph. The words, above his picture: MARGRAVE GOTTWALD, JEREMIAH. 

   Her throat dropped through the floor. 

   No one noticed her sink entirely into herself as she met Jeremiah’s eyes for the first time since she’d been a teen. No one else saw the world fade to grays. Only her memories were in stunning color -- his red cheeks under the moonlight, his amber glance caught in a camera flash, his pink lips moving against hers, his pale face at the funeral, the last time she ever--... 

   No. God, no. No. Please. 

   It couldn’t really be him, could it?

   The meeting ended, eventually, and Leonie sought the first empty room she could find. Her eyes swallowed the words as though she were a fish searching for water. Eldest son of--... In the Britannian army since--... Promoted on--... It was all matching up, too perfectly, and there was no denying that face. It was exactly the same expression he’d scowled at her with ever since their first meeting when she’d kissed his hand in his very own banquet hall.

   It was a torrential downpour. A beginning that seemed to’ve already started, somehow, without her knowledge, perhaps many, many years ago. Leonie sobbed, wretchedly, openly like a starving babe, like an abandoned child, nothing at all like the warrior she’d long carved and crafted herself to be. Every memory, thought, feeling of him that was once held inside was suddenly at the forefront. 

   For the first time since she left him, Leonie let herself truly think of him. 

   No -- not see something that reminded her of him and immediately barricade the thought away. Not think she heard his voice, or saw his face, but abandon the consideration before her heart could even begin to ache. But think of him. Fully, and truly. Her and him grappling on the floor of the banquet hall, her in laughter. The two of them having a picnic beneath her mother’s window with stale bread in the middle of the night. The long battle at daybreak and him running desperately home. Him sweeping her across ballroom as elegantly as they were a natural pair that’d been training to dance with one another since birth. Her hand in his, and them knee-deep in pond water, and their first hug, with their clothes wet and foul-smelling, and him showing her how to aim a gun, and-- 

   Where are you

   Her last text to him. And -- and he was here! 

   God... God... of all the places in all of the world, why did he have to be here?

   There was nothing beautiful or poetic about the way she crumbled that night, the way she screamed for the memory of a friend she’d thought she’d lost. Her face was coated in tears, snot, and she gasped and grappled with breath so long she was certain she’d stop breathing altogether.

   They were on opposite sides of a war. A war she was truly committed to. And she recalled his stubborn gaze -- he would not back down from his side so easily. Especially with the handiwork she had just seen of him. God, to compare the young boy she knew with the man who left bodies of innocents strewn around... how could he! She was nauseated with the dissonance, had to bite on her fists to stave the bile.

   Maybe she should run away again. For even were he to be wretched now, how could she raise her sword to him? He, who had once meant so much to her? How could she lose him, after...

   “Is he okay?” 

   Her phone was tucked away before she slipped down into the opening, reached forward to link her fingers with the outstretched hand leaning back. “Certainly.” 

   “Are-- are you confident?” 

   “Undoubtedly so. He was far too coarse to be in any real danger.” 

   Alexei’s thin frame sighed in relief, and he looked genuinely soothed. “Thank God...” 

   How easily that outcome could’ve been different -- a few words from her, and his face would’ve twisted up in pain, eyes would’ve shined terror. But, no, it wasn’t just for memory of Alexei! Leonie could recall the way her own stomach flopped when she recognized the direction the assailants were coming from, when she waited for a return message. She’d felt faint with the thought that something could’ve happened. 

   She never would’ve considered that she’d be the thing that could-- 

   If she weren’t careful, she would lose her stomach completely. She was far too warm, body ran clean with unbounding feeling. 

   ... ... No. If Leonie ran away, someone else would certainly kill him in her stead. That would be no better than killing him herself. She had to do something. She had to do something-- 

   For the first night, of course, she just cried. Hopeless, and aching, and shards of her soul splayed so open that she didn’t drift off for even a minute. 

   Her little outburst did not go unnoticed by the others in her company. They whispered of womanly hormones and chuckled to themselves. If Leonie were in any other mood, she’d’ve had a sharp remark and thwack upside the head for them. But -- no. It was better than the truth. Let them think of her as a raving woman until she could prove to herself that she wasn’t.

   She worked herself harder than, perhaps, she should’ve in order to suffer through her feelings -- and to punish herself for her slip, of course. She wound her bandages tighter, she hit harder, she ran further. She’d run herself so ragged that emotions were the least of her concerns by the night the broadcast was on. 

   Jeremiah Gottwald -- because, of course, why wouldn’t it be him, right? -- was leading an honorary Britannian to a public execution and all of Japan and Britannia was watching. That smug expression, that confident stature... a rush of annoyance and a need to protect bubbled up within her, hand-in-hand.

   God, she hated him. 

   And then, with the world as his audience, he did something completely unexpected. 

   He gave the young Japanese man being sent to his death back to the resistance. Leonie wasn’t the only one to watch in stunned shock, but she was very likely the only one to shed tears at his action. ( This time, she did knock sense into someone who dared to tease her for the display. ) What did this mean? Had he come to his senses? Was this a small act of rebellion, the only spot of himself he could force out?

   What would happen to him now that he’d disobeyed Britannia so publicly, so obviously? 

   For starters, he was stripped of his title, hidden among the masses as a disgrace. As for what would come next -- she didn’t want to wait around to find out. 

   It took a great deal of convincing her superior, but she’d been a reliable fighter and had worked way through the ranks enough that her opinion held some weight, even though she was a foreigner. Finally he’d assented, sent her off with a small team and a wary gaze. 

   The world was warm, heady with rainfall that’d begin late in the night and was scheduled to continue well into the next few days. A perfect day for a kidnapping, Leonie mused, sullenly. If she was wrong -- if she’d misread that drastic flip in him -- he’d be furious with her. 

   Furious and alive, though, which was more than what she could promise with Britannia. Besides -- furious was like a default setting with him. He was always mad, wasn’t he...?

   Jeremiah was in his office, in a rather secluded part of a government building, and his shadow was slow, still. Hopefully the concern wouldn’t rouse him too much -- just enough to stand, and exit. Leonie set up some gunmen in perches and had one of them call his last name in a desperate tone. 

   Curiosity appeared to eventually get the better of him, and he stumbled to his door and wandered into the hall. Oh God... his footsteps were dragging, sluggish. The ground didn’t even need to whisper it; she heard it. Drunk. 

   From a bannister, still, she sunk, dressed darkly and holding no weapon at the ready. Instead -- she stretched forward a hand.

   “Jeremiah.” A gentle tone, kind, lulling. Her eyes shine easily -- a color and mischief that seemed to play that she’d had no feelings at all to wrestle through prior to their meeting here.

   “I’m here to save you.” 

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[tommyhollandaisesauce]

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how 

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and  sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

-

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something! 

Tags: @hollandprkr​ @itstaskeen​

[your-eternal-muse]

Only If You Knew

Heather Series Part Two

Part One

Summery: A Few months have passed, and reader is struggling with letting go of the fact that Spencer never really was hers.

Words: 1.2K

Warnings: Mild Swearing, angst, but other than that, nothing much

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather, Spencer Reid x Eventual Female!Reader

A/N: Hi. So I know I said I would post part three to use me before I would post this part, but I have absolutely no self control and so here I am. I was up until 4:30 yesterday morning writing because I couldn't get it out of my head. Also, for right now, because I'm posting this on Mobile, it won't have a keep reading link, but when I get home from work, I will put one in to make everyone's life easier. How the fuck do you put a keep reading link on mobile? Anyway, this is un-beta'd so, sorry if there are any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

I wished falling out of love was as easy as falling into it. I wish I could just wake up one morning and not think about what might be going on across the city, inside his apartment in the early morning light, while he lays next to her.

    It’s been almost 8 months since Heather walked into my life and promptly took away the only thing I had ever really hoped for.

    I guess I can’t really blame her for the way that I’m feeling. 

    I was the one who waited too long to share her secret.

    It may be 8 months for me, but for heather, it’s been sixteen. 

    She had him wrapped around her pretty polished finger for 8 months, and I didn’t even notice.

    In retrospect it was quite obvious.

    The way he would smile down at his phone, how he would duck out of celebrations of a job well done, even the amount of coffee he drank diminished as she made him coffee at home.

    I don’t know how I didn’t realize, that he was never really mine.

    But I can’t let him know that. 

    I can’t let anyone know that.

    The only person who will ever know of my unrequited love of Spencer Reid, will be the devil on my shoulder, and I plan on him dying with me when the time comes.

    I’m Spencer's friend first and foremost. His best friend.

    That’s the reason I’m sitting across from him in a booth at a restaurant for our weekly lunch, listening to him gush about her for the thousandth time. 

    And all I can do is smile and nod, pretending to be utterly fascinated by the stories of her teachings, or how she makes domestic life seem so much better than what he thought.

    But that damn devil on my shoulder is making it a lot harder to fake being happy for my friend. 

    Because instead of looking interested, like I’m supposed to be, a dopey grin is smeared across my face, and I’m looking at Spencer like he’s the entire universe wrapped up into a perfect little specimen.

    The devil is making me notice the way his hands move so effortlessly, how the words slip off his tongue and between his lips.

    How his eyes never quite land on one certain thing before moving onto another object.

    That is, until his eyes meet mine.

    “Sorry, I’m rambling again aren’t I?” A blush covers his face, one that doesn’t ever really leave anymore.

    I blink, and sit back in my seat, trying not to make it obvious how insanely in my own head I was. 

    “I will never, ever, get tired of your rambling, Spence.” I take a sip of my sweet tea, to try and coat my throat which has now gone dry. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, I’m like, 98% sure that I’ve learned more from you in the past 7 years, than I learned from every teacher I had in the 16 years of schooling I went through.”

    “I need to work on that 2%.”

    He smiles, pushing some of his hair out of his face. It’s getting long again, and I can’t really say I mind it.

    “Heather thinks I should become a professor.” 

    I substitute biting my tongue for a fry, and think of what to say while I chew and swallow.

    “You’d be the most interesting professor those students will have ever met. Not to mention you’d probably get more women interested in the field.”

    The words slipped out before I realized I had even said them, but it was too late. 

    He had heard.

    “What do you mean?” he looks genuinely confused at the statement, like he doesn’t realize how fucking attractive he is.

    Best friends hype each other up, right? So it’s not weird for me to tell him he’s one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen?

    “Are you kidding me Spence?” I lean forward, onto my elbows which are resting on the table in front of me. “Hun, you’re a piece of eye candy. Morgan doesn’t call you ‘pretty boy’ for nothing.”

    I steal a fry from his plate, since mine are all gone, and I need something in my mouth so I don’t talk myself into my own grave.

    “I guess I never really thought about it like that.” He runs his hands through his hair and leans back against the booth. “I haven’t really had the best luck with women, and them finding me attractive.”

    Well, those women are either stupid, or blind, because honey, excuse my language, you are a FINE piece of ass.

    But out of the woodworks, as if she had been listening to our conversation, his phone lights up with a picture of her, and a heart by her name.

    His mood instantly changes, as if her calling reminded him that it didn’t matter if no one else thought he was attractive, as long as she did.

    He slides his finger across the screen and holds it up to his ear. He’s quiet when he speaks.

    “Hi baby.”

    My stomach does somersaults as I make myself busy, stacking our now empty plates at the end of the table, and wiping salt from the top into my palm.

    I force myself to not hear his end of the conversation, the way he pauses and smiles as he listens to what she has to say, like she's the most interesting person in the world.

    The call ends right after the bill comes back, and I take my card out, placing it back into my purse.

    “I told you I would pay this time.” He’s embarrassed, clearly not wanting the call to have lasted how long it did. 

    I brush it off, shoving the annoyance back down my throat. “You can pay next week, loverboy.”

    He nods, sliding out of his booth, as I follow suit. 

    We exit the restaurant, and prepare to leave our separate ways, leaving me to go back to a lonely apartment, where reruns of The Nanny don’t even make me laugh.

    We never leave without a hug, though.

    Oh how I love his hugs. 

    How he wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his face into my shoulder and the crook of my neck, while I hold my arms around his shoulders, and just hold him. 

    It’s a hug purely reserved for Derek, JJ, Emily, Hotch, Penelope, and me.

    It’s what I call a home hug. 

    A hug that feels like home. 

    And it always reminds me that while I may not have him how I want him, I still have him. And that’s not something that's ever going to change.

    It helps that I know he doesn’t hug Heather this way, at least not out in public. 

    It makes me feel like I have something to hold over her.

    Does he hug you like you’re the only person who matters in that moment?

    That fucking devil usually pops up than, and whispers to me no, but he probably kisses her like she is.

    When we break, I almost forget that he’s going back to her apartment, and not his own.

    We leave with promises of seeing each other at work, and we walk opposite directions down the street. 

    I stop for a moment, turn back, and just watch him walk.

    Walk away from me.

    And towards her.

    Lucky bitch.

Permanent Taglist: @criminalcow @pinkdiamond1016 @eternityofaxiom @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @marvels-gurl @theamuz @write-from-the-heart @sungieeeeeee @mjloveskids666 @chococereal @itzsoff @gia-kerks @doctorspencereid @imsuperawkward

Heather Taglist: @drsoftboyreid @lindaze @urie-bowie-mercury @racerparker @avaholcombe @rodgertayloroof @stephanieisgay330 @swiftspaperings

[paganinpurple]

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

Tired. So tired. It's only 10pm. Work is killing me, I'm sure of it. 

If I die, work sus.

Buy Me A Coffee?

AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10

11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

Day 23 - Pillows and Blankets

Just because he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time didn’t mean he wasn’t Chat Noir all the time.

There were certain things about having spent so long as Chat before he had let Marinette and then her parents in on his secret that seemed to have skewed his appreciation for some of the same things that Plagg loved.

Soft pillows beneath his head, warm blankets around him. Cosy material against his skin and a delicious spot of sun shining down on his torso from the skylight above him.

Warmth.

The blessed warmth that had finally returned to him in full. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Marinette was the source of most of that warmth. He glanced over at her sleeping face –relaxed and gorgeous– despite the spot of drool currently threatening to drip from the corner of her mouth. He gave a soft chuckle and carefully wiped it away with his thumb, causing her to nuzzle her face further into the pink pillow they both shared. He carefully shifted a bit closer to her, gingerly reaching back out to stroke her arm as he considered how she would react if she woke up with him slinking into her snug little bubble.

He thought back to how timid she’d seemed last night when she’d first suggested they share the bed. Even though she had appeared more relaxed than he was when they had first gotten in, he wasn’t sure how much of her confidence was down to her delayed illness and the related lack of inhibitions. Maybe if she woke up feeling renewed, his presence would become a shock.

He balanced himself precariously between the pros and cons of her waking up in a marvellous cuddle-puddle with him. The pros involved the enchanting warmth, the scent of her hair and her supple slightness against his own body; the cons, his own deep-burrowing insecurities and possibly an outrageous physical reaction from the startled girl as she woke.

He was just recalling how much her embarrassed shoves and other attacks had been escalating lately when she surprised him with a violent shiver from beneath the duvet. His arm was wrapped around her with haste and he swore the movement of it blurred before his very eyes. Delicately, he cradled her against him, leaving plenty of space on her side of the bed. That way, he reasoned, she wouldn’t feel trapped if she woke up and instinctively tried to pull away from him in shock.

He felt a tug at his chest and glanced down at the small hand twisting into his shirt lightly, sincere affection once again melting through him as a wave of love with a slight hint of embarrassment flooded his mind. She continued her assault on the fabric, frowning slightly when she didn’t seem better able to grip the material to pull him closer. Instead, she slunk into the last available sliver of space between them, nuzzling his collar bone with her nose. Her only sound was a slight grumble when his sudden shaky breath disturbed the hair hanging against her face.

“M-Marinette?” he said breathily.

Another sharp shiver was his only answer and this time it was followed by a continuous shuddering as her body fought to warm off the invading chill seeping into her very bones.

He tried to reach above him to grab the huge cat pillow she kept on her bed, hoping to position it against her back like a second body to keep all of her heat from escaping, but her hold on his shirt tightened as if he were trying to desert her and she didn’t agree with his departure at all.

He quickly examined the death-grip of her fingers and made a half-hearted attempt to pry them away before the whine that left her throat had him abandoning that idea in an instant.

“Plagg!” he whisper-shouted with urgency.

“Hmm?” grumbled the familiar voice of his kwami sleepily from somewhere on the bookshelf above his head.

“I need to transform.”

“Wh-?” Plagg cut off with a yawn before popping his head over the edge of the shelf, “What time is it? I never heard the akuma alert go off.”

Adrien glared at the tiny creature. “It’s not an akuma and it’s not even that early!” he said in annoyance. His eyes widened and trailed the area around him for a beat before he added, “Probably.”

“Then why…?” Plagg said, trailing off with a grin as he noticed the way Marinette’s fingers were attempting to infuse themselves into the fibres of his clothing. “Oh, I see. Isn’t this the kind of thing you’d usually kill to have happening between you two?”

“Not when she’s freezing, and I can’t move to reach anything to help her!” he spluttered indignantly, averting his eyes from the smug little god.

With a brief shrug from the kwami in response, Adrien called for his transformation, the fabric Marinette was holding onto disappearing in the process of becoming Chat Noir and releasing him from her sleepy constraint.

She fumbled for him and in turn he moved quickly, pulling the duvet up to her chin and tucking it in beneath her back to trap in as much heat as he could. The cat pillow was snuggled in against her back as well, another defence against any pesky draughts that might try to attack with a chill.

He had barely finished his little nest when a small hand clutched at his bell and hauled him back down to the mattress. The high-pitched yelp that he expelled would have been hilarious if he’d heard it from anyone else, and he was extremely thankful that Plagg was vocally-challenged right now because of his transformation.

Refusing to give him an opportunity to remove himself from her clutches, Marinette unleashed another sleeping sneak attack and folded both of her arms around his middle. Her hands met somewhere around the small of his back and from the feel of it, she had interlocked them to keep him from pulling away again.

“Purr,” she sighed dreamily before a scowl slowly began to adorn her face instead. He smiled as she began to gently nudge his chest with her temple.

Taking his cue, he concentrated until he could feel his chest rumble and a gentle hum accompanying it. Relaxing himself once the purr had become instinctive, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed again, his lashes feathering against his cheeks, and found himself drifting off to sleep once more.

*

Eyelids flickered and twitched as a strange sound reached his ears.

Chat opened his heavy lids again to the sight of dark raven locks and caught the overpowering scent of flour in the air, but he was no closer to understanding why he had woken this time. With a smile, he buried his nose in Marinette’s dark hair and that strange sound from before repeated again.

With a wrinkled brow he slowly dragged his head from the pillow to see if he could spy a source and whipped round when he saw someone from the corner of his eye.

At the foot of the bed sat Marinette’s mother, her eyes dewed, hands clasped over her heart against her floury apron. Her lips were turned up in an amused smirk and when she saw him staring at her in horror, Chat heard the sound again, as yet another muffled chuckle escaped her.

“Sabine!” he wobbled, “I can explain! I-”

“Shush! My goodness, don’t wake her!” she said, palms out towards him in an attempt to calm him down.

“Huh?,” he whispered, perplexed, “I don’t understand. Aren’t you mad?”

…

Well, he’d never been on the receiving end of that look before.

Sabine often used a unique way of alerting Marinette or Tom to the fact that they were being ridiculous over something trivial that they had managed to build up in their head, and it was unbelievably simple. She would simply give them the most deadpan look she could muster, face still and unimpressed. Then, after she had held it for several seconds to make her point, her left eyebrow would raise the most miniscule amount, like a non-verbal version of a sarcastic, “Really?”

That exact eyebrow ascension was being directed at him right now and Chat had never felt quite this stupid before – though for what, he wasn’t entirely sure. It was also kind of amazing how Sabine could make him feel that way, yet never once make him doubt that she loved him as if he were her own son. His own father had often made him doubt his love for him, even back before his mother had gone missing. Back when everything had been “good” at home and magic jewellery was but a twinkle in his imagination.

“Uh, sorry?” he told the woman, feeling like he needed to explain his reasoning, regardless of how sketchy it might seem, “I’m in her bed. We’re not even supposed to be sharing a room anymore, and we’re sharing a bed right now.”

The look never faltered as she continued to silently question his intelligence.

“Not that I want you to be angry, but isn’t that how a mom is meant to be when she finds out something like this?”

Her facial wargame was interrupted when Marinette shivered suddenly and cuddled in tighter to Chat’s loosened embrace to rebalance her dropping temperature. The action reminded him that he still hadn’t explained the reason behind the situation, something he intended to rectify immediately.

“We caught colds,” he summed up, “It’s warmest up here so we decided to share the heat. It’s never happened before, and it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Sabine snorted in a very Marinette-ish way, before a smirk appeared on her face. “Never?” she asked.

Chat felt his face redden more steadily with every second. “We’ve never shared a bed before,” he said, voice tremulous and weak.

”Well, that’s a surprise,” she answered, her eyes at once expanding in shock, “Tom and I were sure the two of you must have been, given how comfortable you are with sharing your personal space during battles and patrols.”

“What?”

“In particular, that picture Nadja’s network got during that little heatwave we had made me think cuddle naps were a normal thing.”

“That was before we knew our identities!” he squeaked, remembering how much Ladybug had lamented dozing off against his chest after a reporter had snapped them in the couple-y position. The questions hadn’t stopped for months.

“Oh? And has something changed since then? …Really?”

Glancing down at the sleeping enchantress next to him, Chat wondered if Sabine might have a point. Had things changed? Part of him hoped so. After all, Ladybug had claimed not to have any feelings beyond friendship for him back then.

Buy Me A Coffee?

[rollercoasterwrite]

I’m So Curious [Chapter 3]

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 

Prompt : Jjong is a college student with tight money, but manages to get into a prestigious uni where he becomes friends with Taemin. One day, Tae asks him to go out on a blind date with his cousin Jinki, a notable lawyer who still hesitates about dating someone. Jjong refuses, but the amount of money Tae offers is a sight he can’t ignore. Jinki adores him immediately and after several dates, Jonghyun falls in love with Jinki, but he doesn’t know how to tell Jinki about his agreement with Tae.

Pairing : Jongyu

Genre : romance, fluff, angst, smut 

Word Count : 10 000 ~

Links : AFF & AO3

Special thanks to Cheryl, my beta once again!!!

"When are you going to tell him?"

The question hit the unaware blonde like a ton of bricks. The hand that held his debit card froze mid-way as his head turned back towards his friend. 

"What are you talking about?" he feigned, trying to keep his face under control. 

"Riiight," the brunette scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What in the actual hell am I talking about?"

The other’s derisive tone couldn’t be missed, but Jonghyun let it slide to go back to completing his transaction. 

Once that was over, they walked out of the store, both of them carrying two bags in each hand. 

"You would’ve never bought a pair of pants worth two-hundred dollars before,” his friend bluntly pointed out as their footsteps synced on the sidewalk.  

Jonghyun felt his jaw tense up, but kept looking ahead. "And your point is?"

"My point is that you seem to be enjoying that prostitution money."

That stopped him dead in his tracks. 

"Excuse me?" he hissed, feeling his internal volcano awaken. 

The younger one turned back to face him. "I said what I said."

"Do you have a fucking problem, Kibum?"

"I do, actually," the other fired back. "That’s not you at all, Jonghyun."

The blonde’s sudden surge of anger fell prey to a wave of guilt, leaving him speechless for a moment. 

"The money was just a one-time thing," he simply said before picking up the pace again. 

"I know, but your relationship isn’t," his friend returned as he settled right beside him once more. 

Jonghyun could feel his face burning, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the sun beaming over their heads or from the cocktail of frustration and embarrassment that was forming inside him. 

"We’re not…"

"Don’t say that you’re two aren’t in a relationship," the brunette cut off. "How many dates has it been now?"

Five. "I don’t fucking keep track."     

Kibum clicked his tongue. 

"You’re so ridiculous, I swear.” 

Jonghyun chose silence this time, hoping that would be enough to make the conversation die. But of course, it wasn’t. 

"You’ve never stuck with someone that long before," the younger one went on. "So you’re going to tell me that it’s nothing special?"

Jonghyun took in a sharp breath, suddenly regretting inviting him out. 

"I’m not going to say anything, actually, because it’s none of your fucking business.”

The conversation lulled for a moment as they rushed across the street to make it before the light turned red. 

“Well, whose business is it going to be when the shit hits the fan, huh?" Kibum picked right back up. 

"I don’t know why you’d think that would become your business if anything were to happen," Jonghyun threw back with contempt. 

The other snorted loudly at that. 

"You like to act like a tough bitch, but do I have to remind you in whose arms you usually end up landing when the going gets tough?" 

The blonde glared at him as if the intensity of his gaze could end a life right here and now .                                        

"And do I have to remind you whose fist can land on your pretty face?"

The younger one rolled his eyes again. "Always threatening with violence, but never actually following-" 

His breath was cut short as he was hit square in the chest with one of the bags the older one was carrying.

"What was that?" Jonghyun asked, smirking, as he watched the younger one bring a hand to his heart with a shocked expression. 

"You know what? I’m not doing this anymore," Kibum settled before quickening his step to move past him. 

The blonde cocked a brow in surprise. When he saw that the brunette wasn’t actually turning back, he followed suit, having to jog to catch up with him. 

"Yah, Kibummie," he hailed as he tried to match his frantic pace. 

No answer. 

"Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re really mad now," the blonde half-taunted, half-inquired. 

Still no answer.

Jonghyun frowned, feeling his frustration grow. He was tempted to just dump him in the middle of the street, but he knew better than to make the situation worse right now. 

"Okay, I’m sorry," he forcefully apologized. 

He was again met with silence, but the look of contempt that was thrown his way at that moment did manage to spark some hope inside him. 

"You know how I get when we talk about that stuff," he tried as his expression grew softer.

That did the trick. 

"That stuff?" Kibum echoed, confused. "You mean love?"

Jonghyun’s eyes grew wide at the sound of that word. 

"The hell?" he all but yelled as his heart started thumping against the confines of his chest. "When were we talking about that?"

"I don’t know how many times you’re going to make me roll my eyes at you… it’s really getting tiring," Kibum said, annoyed. 

"It’s one thing to talk about our…" Jonghyun paused, taking a quick inhale in before pushing out the dreaded word. ""Relationship", but it’s another to talk about love."

"Okay, I can get with that," the younger one accepted. "But can you admit that what’s going on here is not like the other times?"

Jonghyun averted his gaze, concentrating on his feet and keeping a diligent focus on their cadence for a few seconds before nodding in response. 

"Good," Kibum acknowledged, satisfied. "More reason for you to be honest with him if you’re getting serious about this." 

"But what good will that do, huh?" Jonghyun promptly reacted as he looked up again. 

Their eyes met for a second before they both focused their gaze ahead again. 

"Do I really have to paint a picture here?" Kibum said, baffled. "What kind of healthy relationship are you two going to have if you’re already keeping secrets from each other?"

Jonghyun snorted. 

"You’re one to talk…"

The brunette’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. 

"How dare you?" he spat. "That’s not even comparable!"

"Yeah, okay. Whatever," the older one gave up as the onset of a headache began to tug at the corners of his temples. 

"Don’t try to get off topic," Kibum reproved. 

"Yes, Mom," Jonghyun said, derision weighing heavy in his tone. 

"Immaturity isn’t a good look on you, Jjong," the brunette sharply replied. "I can see he’s changing you for the better, so please don���t ruin it."

The blonde’s brow cocked. His curiosity was piqued. 

"What do you mean?"

"You smile more, you’re more outgoing, your energy feels…" Kibum paused, searching for the word. "Lighter," he pinpointed after a few more seconds. 

Jonghyun felt his face burn up once more. 

"Ah, well…"

"I can see you like him," Kibum said. "Like, a lot."

His heart responded with a somersault. 

"Well… if any of what you’re saying is true, I can’t afford ruining things by telling him the truth."

The younger one sighed. 

"Maybe I should be kicking Taemin’s ass for putting you in this mess."

Jonghyun couldn’t help but chuckle.

"The kid means well."

"Yeah? Why does he always have a satanic way of showing it then, huh?"

The blonde shook his head, lips curved into a crooked smile.

"It’s part of his charm, you know?"

Kibum snorted.

 "He must suck dick really good for you to be saying that."

There was a brief silence. 

"And then you wonder why I don’t want to share anything personal with you anymore," Jonghyun snarled, glare weighing heavily on his face. 

"Gosh, you really can’t take a joke, can you?" the younger one grumbled in annoyance. 

"If that’s your idea of a joke, then I’m clearly not the one at fault here," the blonde shot right back, effectively silencing his friend for a few seconds as the latter looked back at him, mouth agape. 

"You’re insufferable!" the younger one ended up spouting in anger. 

"But yet, you still hang out with me," Jonghyun casually pointed out. 

"Don’t think I’ll tolerate anything just because it’s you," Kibum warned. 

They slowed down a bit as the bus terminal finally came into view. 

"Are you still coming back to the dorms with me?" Jonghyun asked, somewhat worried now. 

A heavy sigh crossed the other’s bowed lips. 

"You really don’t deserve any more of my time, but tonight’s a big night, so it’d be cruel of me not to help you out."

Kibum could be a pain in the ass a lot of the time, but it was in moments like these, that Jonghyun was reminded why having him as a friend was a true blessing. 

"Thank you," he uttered with sheer gratefulness as they made their way to the bus stop.

They didn’t have to wait long for theirs to arrive and soon enough, they found a comfortable seat at the back, their legs lining up unconsciously against each other’s. The twenty-five-minute drive had them falling into a trance, calming down their overactive minds as they enjoyed a shared silence. 

It almost felt like a crime to get up and move, but they did nonetheless as their stop came about.

Silence stretched out throughout the five-minute walk to the dorms and throughout the additional minutes it took to reach the seventh floor. 

A sigh of relief left them both as they finally entered the blonde’s lair and put their bags down. 

"I need some water," Kibum said, voice slightly hoarse. 

Jonghyun didn’t even bother to answer, knowing the other would just go on ahead to quench his thirst. 

As he heard the faucet turn on, he walked to his room, closing the door behind him as he undressed.

He gave a quick look to his alarm clock as he tugged down his pants. 5:17. 

There was a little less than an hour before he would have to be on his way. That was plenty of time in a practical sense, but very little in an emotional one. 

His heart jumped as his mind dragged him down the possible paths this evening could take. It was the first time they were going to be alone and he couldn’t help but feel nervous, a little giddy, but also excited. 

He didn’t want to expect anything, but he was also ready for everything. 

He finally made his way to the bathroom and into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot blast of water drenched his skin. He ran his hands through his hair rhythmically, giving himself a good scalp massage, before bringing his shampoo and body wash into the mix to wash up thoroughly. The small space was soon filled with floral scents that tickled his nostrils and subconsciously brought a lightness to his tight neck and shoulders. 

He took a little more time than usual to clean up if the sudden knock on the door was any indication, but he let himself bask some more in the soothing atmosphere he had just created for himself. 

It was another few minutes before he finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped one of his towels snugly around his waist. Water droplets fell to the floor with his every step while some clung on for dear life as they slid down his skin.

He finally reached his room again, gaze falling upon an obviously annoyed Kibum. 

"You could’ve told me you were going to take a shower," the latter said. 

"I thought that went without saying," Jonghyun replied matter-of-factly. "I can’t show up all sweaty and gross."

At that, the brunette’s face brightened with mischief. 

"So… it is going down tonight," he gathered, a sly smile gracing his lips.

A flash of heat coursed through the blonde’s belly. 

"I… I don’t know…" he uttered as his mind started to drag him elsewhere again.

"This guy must’ve had enough of waiting," Kibum observed. "He’s not a fucking priest, for god’s sake!"

Jonghyun chuckled at that, relieving some of the tension that had found its way into his body just now. 

"That, he isn’t, for sure."

"But seriously, Jjong," Kibum started again. "If you do end up fucking, you at least have to tell me if he’s good."

The older one rolled his eyes, silently imploring whatever gods were out there listening to help him bear with his friend’s stubbornness. 

"Fine," he conceded with a sigh. "Now, can you help me pick out an outfit?"

"Of course," Kibum agreed as he sprung up from the bed to land on his feet. 

His hand reached quickly for the wardrobe’s door, sliding it further open to get a view of what he had to work with. 

Jonghyun could only see the back of his head for the most part, but the rustling sound of clothes being sorted through filled in the gap. He knew it was only a matter of time before an inevitable critique would roll off the other’s tongue.  

"Oh, thank god!" Kibum sighed in victory. He made a snap turn around, holding his hand up to show his discovery. 

The blonde cocked a brow. 

"That’s just a T-shirt." 

His words were rewarded with a scowl. 

"No. That’s not just a T-shirt."

“Okay…?"

A sigh of despair left the brunette as he closed his eyes to muster some patience.

"It’s a white T-shirt!" Kibum tried again. 

Jonghyun was even more at a loss. "Okay?"

At that, his friend’s expression grew even more frustrated. 

"You’re so fucking dumb, I swear," he groaned, dropping onto the mattress again. 

"Okay, let me try to put this simply," he started as he laid the t-shirt right beside him. "Most of your fucking wardrobe is on the baggy side, which, if that’s the kind of look you want to sport, then fine," he interjected with a bite of judgment. "But if you actually want to have some shape and appeal, we need to tighten your shit up."

"Okay… I get it… but why white?" Jonghyun asked. 

He wasn’t against brighter clothes, heck, that was his shirt after all, but he did generally lean towards darker clothing. 

"Seriously?" Kibum deadpanned. 

The silence that followed was the only answer needed.

"I fucking swea-" 

The younger one cut himself off abruptly, realizing it was no use. 

"Because that will actually show off all of that," he all but cried out as he gestured to Jonghyun’s uncovered chest vigorously.     

Jonghyun’s head immediately dropped down, gaze steadying on the planes and dips that stretched out to his towel. 

"I’m not sure I get what you mean…" he half-feigned, half-inquired as he looked back up. 

Kibum rolled his eyes this time.

"Give me a fucking break," he squarely dismissed. "You’ve obviously been hitting the gym more, so why not show off for once?"

Heat rushed up to the blonde’s face at the thought.

"I guess…"

"Seriously, you’d be so lost without me," the brunette asserted before standing up again.

Jonghyun waited to have his back to roll his eyes.

But he was quick to realize that he would’ve indeed struggled so much more if Kibum hadn’t taken charge. Instead of having to go through the pain of second-guessing every one of his styling choices, every decision was made for him in a matter of twenty minutes, even down to the way he should style his hair.

"Forget the gel and leave your bangs down," Kibum immediately said after he finished drying his hair off in front of the mirror. "We still want you to look casual and comfy.”

Jonghyun nodded in approval, always happy to keep things as simple as possible. 

"So what pants did you end up picking?" he asked as he turned back around. 

The younger one huffed at that.

"You’ve seriously not made my job easy with that non-ass of yours."

A frown creased the blonde’s brow as he glared at his friend.

"Smaller asses are valid, too, you know?"

"Oh, I agree," Kibum instantly acknowledged. "But that’s not what we are dealing with here," he added without blinking.

A three-second fantasy of landing a good punch on the other’s face flashed behind Jonghyun’s eyes, but he refrained from acting on it, because he really needed his help. 

"Stop running your mouth and just show me," he said, annoyance spiking his words. 

Sharp slanted eyes shot daggers at him before they moved to the bed. 

"Those tight denims should do the trick," the younger said before throwing the pants at him.  

Jonghyun caught them easily, instantly nodding at the sight of the darker blue shade. He didn’t wear them often anymore, but he could definitely agree that they were probably the best choice for tonight.   

"And it might be kinda chilly outside by the time we step out, so bring this with you, too," Kibum said as he indicated the black leather jacket in his hand.

"Good," the older one approved. "Shoes?"

"Your black Timbs.”  

"Perfect."

Kibum’s lips stretched into a sly smile. 

"Time to get some dick.” 

Jonghyun’s eyes brushed over his friend’s face with a wince of disgust, but somewhere in the middle of his lower belly, there was also a soft pang of approval. 

***

Jonghyun was nervous. 

He hadn’t realized it at first, but the feeling hit him on the road as he got closer and closer to his destination. By the time the car’s engine fell silent, his hands were shaking. 

Why am I so nervous?

The question rattled around in his mind as he let his head fall on the steering wheel. The thought fired through every synapse in his brain, but still failed to resolve itself with an answer. 

After mentally running through more of the same, he lifted his head up again, groaning at his stressed out and frustrated state. Realizing it would only worsen if he stayed immobile, he finally made a move to open the door and step out of the car.  

Once the door was locked, he looked up, taking in the tall condominium complex that stretched out before him. If he were being honest, he had expected something with a more grandiose look, but it wasn’t any more different than others he had seen in other neighborhoods. Somewhat though, that managed to calm his nerves a bit.

He finally started walking, momentarily leaving behind any thought that could’ve glued him into place. His pace was brisk, almost as if he were trying to outrun anything that could attack him from behind. He quickly had to stop again to put in the code that the brunette had sent him the day before. He punched in the numbers with one finger and let himself in as the door buzzed.

The elevator was only a few steps ahead and not long after, he stepped inside, pressing the button for the third floor. A quick thought about taking the stairs flashed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it to focus back on his breath again. A deep inhale graced all corners of his torso before an exhale emptied it out. He repeated the process once more just before the elevator doors opened. 

His feet were now gracing the limestone floor, the sound of his heels clicking against it filling up the silent space. Every step he took was accompanied by a quick glance to each door as he searched for the right one. His venture ended up bringing him to the end of the hallway, right in front of a white door adorned with a shining number 11. 

Jonghyun just stared at it, mind empty, heart going crazy. 

"There is no turning back now."

His hand made its way to the doorbell on its own accord, his index finger pushing against it while his mind went blank.

His eardrums caught sound from the inside, but it was all too muffled to get a clear sense of what it was. 

Jonghyun stood there anxiously, silently wishing for this nerve-wracking anticipation to be over with. The sound of the door being unlocked a second later seemed to come as an answer to his prayers, but when it was finally pulled open, another draft of anxiety hit him square in the gut.

"I’m-I’m sorry," he stammered, embarrassed beyond words. "I think I’ve got the wrong place."

He immediately stepped back to make a quick exit, but the man’s next words made him halt just in time. 

"You’re Jonghyun, right?" he asked. 

"Uh… yeah…" the blonde confirmed, confused.

A wide smile spread across the unknown man’s face, making his large eyes narrow and crinkle at the corners. 

Who’s he? Jonghyun thought as his gaze scanned the sight before him. He’s gorgeous. 

The prompted thought only made him even more nervous which translated as a deep frown on his face. 

Before he could investigate what he was dealing with, Jinki finally joined in, pulling the taller man away from the doorframe to stand in his place. A mutter of protest came from the other, but the brunette casually ignored it.   

"Jjong!" he sighed, his breath a little shaken. "I’m sorry about that. I was finishing up in the kitchen and Minho got to the door first and…" 

A hand lifted to the back of his neck as his eyes darted down to the space between them. 

"Things aren’t really going as planned."

Jonghyun wanted to wrap him into a tight hug and let him know that he didn’t care, but a more pressing issue was toying with his mind. 

"Who is Minho?" he couldn’t help but ask.

 Jinki had mentioned him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but this was the first time Jonghyun was hearing anything about that man. 

The brunette’s gaze shot up under his bangs and his eyes grew wide with realization. 

"Right… I never actually told you about him, huh?"

Jonghyun shook his head. 

Jinki sighed, more at himself than anything else.

"Come in. I’ll introduce you properly."

He stepped away from the doorframe, leaving an opening for the blonde to pass through. Once the door was locked and Jonghyun had taken off his shoes, he finally ventured into the brunette’s home. There was a subtle burnt smell in the air, but he chose to leave the matter on the back burner and instead give inquisitive looks to his surroundings. 

The apartment was a typical open concept loft, uniting the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room into the same spacious space. The set up was modern in style, the combination of wood and metal surfaces effortlessly complementing the cream-colored walls. Jonghyun wasn’t one to truly pay attention to details of this sort, but he could appreciate how everything seemed to work in unison to give a homey but classy feel to the apartment. He especially appreciated the fluffy white carpet that stretched out before one of the living room’s couches a few meters away. 

"So what do you think?" Jinki inquired as he followed the blonde’s gaze. 

The latter snapped back to attention, a slight shrug of surprise gracing his shoulders. 

"Ah… it’s very nice…" he awkwardly uttered as he let his eyes drag away from the living room and settle back on the brunette. 

It was just then that he noticed his all-black attire, consisting of a tight t-shirt and form-fitting jeans. It was the most casual he had ever since him, but somehow, that made him even sexier. 

"You have a lovely apartment, " he added quickly to avoid selling himself out as a prying pervert. 

A beautiful grin answered his compliment. 

"Thank you," he said. "Although…" His gaze scanned around. "I really had nothing to do with it. Minho chose it and perfected it to what it is now."

Jonghyun’s brow shot up in response, his shoulders tensing. 

"Oh, so he lives here, too?"

"Well, yeah," Jinki replied, not noticing the sudden edge in the other’s tone. 

A clench graced the younger one’s jaw. Oh, well, that sure reassures me.

"Ah, he’s coming back," Jinki said as footsteps resonated from the hallway to their ears. 

The man in question came into view again, now rocking a striped marine suit that somehow made his legs look even longer. 

Jonghyun couldn’t help but frown at the sight. Tall bastard. 

"Sorry for the disturbance, I’ll be leaving now," the young man informed as he gave them an apologetic smile. 

"Good, but first, let me introduce you properly," the eldest followed up. 

"Aaah, right, right." 

He was quick to close in the distance between them, stopping right in front of Jonghyun. 

"So this is Minho," Jinki started. "He’s my-

"I’m his best friend, roommate and law firm partner," the other swiftly interjected with a liveliness that made Jonghyun want to wince. "Is he a hyung?" Minho then asked, gaze moving to Jinki. 

"No, no," Jinki answered with a chuckle. 

"Aaah okay, I can relax a bit more then," the other noted with an easy smile. "I’ve heard a lot about you, Jonghyun. I’m very happy to finally meet you."

Taken aback by the frank response, the blonde missed the blush that crept up the other’s neck at that exact moment. 

"Ah, um," he started uneasily. "It’s nice to meet you, too," he reciprocated despite his reluctance. 

Cackling in response, the tall brunette said, "That doesn’t sound too convincing."

Jonghyun’s eyes widened, stunned by his lie hitting him back in the face.

 "It is, I-"

"Don’t worry," Minho cut in, still laughing. ""I wouldn't be very warm, either, to someone my boyfriend's apparently close to, but that he never mentioned before," he then reassured, not without the double intent of throwing a jab at his friend too. "Choi Minho," the eldest loudly protested in response, not noticing the bewildered expression that had just settled on the blonde's face. "You're making it sound like I was trying to hide something."

As interested as Jonghyun should've been in the course the conversation was taking, everything that followed was lost on him. He could hear their voices, but none of the words reached him. Not after a single one had rendered his senses useless. Boyfriend. The word rung loudly inside his head, replaying again and again in a reckless loop as his heart raced. 

He managed to turn his head to give a look to his right, searching for a hint of what he was feeling on the other's face. But all he could see there was the frown that had settled deep between his eyes. Not used to seeing that expression, his newfound curiosity for what was causing it was what managed to make him leap back into reality.

There was a brief silence and suddenly the giant's eyes were on him, twinkling with mischief. "He's really cute after all," the latter said as his eyes travelled along his body. Jonghyun's reaction was innate, lips parting to give the other a piece of his mind. But he wasn't quick enough. "I wouldn't be worried in a million years. Trust me," Jinki all but snarled.

That was enough for Jonghyun to lose all bite. Instead, his teeth sank into his bottom lip. Shit. He is being hot again. 

The tallest smirked.

"As spicy as that would've been, you know I would never." He then looked straight at Jonghyun, a pleased smile still dancing on his lips. "I'm glad Jinki finally stopped acting like a little virgin. I have to thank you for that." "Can you just shut up and go now?" Jinki burst out as his skin flared up again. Yup. My sentiments exactly, Jonghyun silently seconded, his impatience growing by the second. "You were the one who wanted us to get acquainted," the younger one retaliated, eyes almost popping out of their sockets. "Well I think Jjong has a good idea of who you are now," Jinki indicated. Yup. An unnecessarily tall and annoying prick, the blonde kept on in the secrecy of his mind. "If you say so," Minho dismissively acknowledged. He didn't waste a beat of silence to continue on. "So, how do I look?" The smug smile that followed did nothing to help his case in the blonde's mind.

"Good, as always," Jinki replied, a lace of exasperation tugging at his words. "Thaaaank yooouu," his friend voiced excitedly. "You know tonight's a big night," he added with a wink. "Aren't you just seeing Yejin?" "Meeting her parents tonight actually," his friend filled in as he tugged on the front of his suit to straighten it out more than it already was. "Not worried though," he instantly added. Suuuuure, Jonghyun derided. It was a miracle he managed not to roll his eyes. Jinki was more patient, obviously. 

 "No?" he questioned, doubt raising his voice. "Nah," Minho assured. "She told them I was a lawyer and they apparently screamed from joy." A grin stretched out wide on his face. "So imagine when they see how handsome I am, too." If there had been a camera in the room, Jonghyun would've surely stared into it to display his sheer annoyance at the other's inflated ego. "Riiight," Jinki said, seemingly as annoyed as he was. It didn't go unnoticed by the tall brunette. "Okay, enough about me," he settled. "I'll leave you lovebirds alone now." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys before giving a lazy wave their way. Before he could exit through the front door, Jinki spoke up again. "You're spending the night at Yejin's, right?" Minho turned back around, meeting the question with a sly smile. "Of course." Jonghyun's heart jumped as his eyes grew a little wider. Calm down, calm down. "Good," Jinki voiced in satisfaction. Oh. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Have fun," Minho said with a wink before finally leaving. The clicking sound of the door closing sealed those words dramatically, making them suddenly aware that they were very alone. Jinki made a move first, turning his body towards him so he could look at Jonghyun properly. "I need to apologize," he prefaced, expression guilt-stricken. "Ah, it's fine," Jonghyun quickly dismissed. "We all have annoying friends." Jinki's brows rose, mouth agape. "That's not what I was talking about..." The blonde froze as the words struck him like a bucket of cold water being thrown in his face. "I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't-" The other's laugh cut him short. 

"Don't worry," he reassured. "I know he can be a lot sometimes, but he has a good heart." At that, a frown creased his brow making the brunette laugh even harder. "I swear," the latter defended despite it. "If you want, I can tell you about how he actually saved my ass in a big case." Jonghyun snorted. 

"Does it involve him sleeping with someone?" Jinki blinked. 

"How did you know?" The blonde shrugged. 

"He strikes me as the type." "He really didn't make a good impression on you, huh?" No. "I mean... If he's your best friend and you live with him, too, I bet he has redeeming qualities," Jonghyun conceded despite himself. "You are the worst at hiding your emotions," Jinki snickered. "But I'm glad, actually", he went on more seriously. "Minho can be quite the charmer and maybe a small part of me was scared he'd charm you." The admission came with a sheepish smile, sending Jonghyun's heart into a furious race again. "He's not my type," he said without hesitation. "What is your type?" Jinki asked in a cheeky tone. You. "Aah, you know... Guys that..." His eyes shifted as if an answer was floating around. "Um…" "Guys that get so nervous about a dinner at home that they burn the meal?" the other chimed in, giving an embarrassed smile. 

Jonghyun’s gaze settled back on the brunette, wide with confusion. 

"What?"

"I really hope that type of guy is your type," Jinki continued. "Or else… I’m screwed."

A nervous laugh followed and Jonghyun’s heart fluttered. 

"Don’t worry," he said. "I think that kind of guy is cute."

There was a lull of silence, during which Jinki turned redder than he had before, making the blonde melt and simultaneously cringe at his own corniness. 

"So, um," the brunette cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could order some food instead." 

"Yeah, sure."

"What would you like?"

"I really don’t mind."

"I really don’t mind, either."

"So how the heck are we going to solve this, huh?"

"Hmmm, what haven’t we had yet?"

They both pondered on the matter, reviewing all their previous dates. Apart from the fancy restaurant that had brought them together the first time, they had kept it pretty casual, eating at different local restaurants whenever they felt hungry. Jonghyun wasn’t much of a foodie to begin with, but Jinki was on the other end, so he usually followed in whatever craving the older one had in the moment. 

"What were you cooking earlier?" he thought to ask. 

"I was trying out a Coconut Shrimp Curry recipe."

"Mm, that sounds good. Why don’t we order that?"

"Yeah," the other agreed. "And we can pretend I actually made it while we eat it, too."

Jonghyun smiled at his silliness. 

"Sure."

"Okay, I’ll go find my phone so we can check out places," Jinki indicated, already turning to move. 

But before he could take a step, he was halted by a firm grip on his wrist. 

"Wait," the blonde said as he turned him back around. 

He stepped closer, slow and measured, his almond shaped eyes flicking upwards once there was nearly no more space between them.  

The other’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gazed into those criminally pretty eyes, waiting. 

"You haven’t kissed me yet," Jonghyun finally said, tone expectant. 

A breathy laugh met his skin.

"You’re forever impatient."

"That’s been established already. So, don’t make me wait any longer."

You’ve made me fucking needy, you bastard. 

Jonghyun was expecting to be left hanging, just to get him frustrated to no end, but before he could prepare any argument in retaliation, the other’s soft lips caught his breath, melding their bodies together. A sigh of contentment left him; it was like everything was right in the world again. 

Jinki held him, arms hugging his waist under his jacket as they shared a soft and sweet kiss. Despite his eagerness, Jonghyun didn’t push for more, knowing well that everything he wanted would come in time. 

"Happy?" Jinki asked as he pulled away, eyes lingering on the lips he had just made pinker. 

"Mmhm," Jonghyun hummed, chest heaving slightly. "For now, yeah."

That made the other laugh again before he stepped back.

"Well, let me get my phone before we actually get to dessert."

He disappeared, leaving a baffled Jonghyun to wrap his mind around what he had just said. Knowing the man a little better now, he knew how purposefully confusing he could get. There could literally be a real dessert waiting ahead without any real prospect of something more. But fortunately, he hadn’t forgotten the exchange that had happened between him and his friend earlier.

He wanted to make sure we would be alone for the night.

That thought alone was enough to make him hot all over again, prompting him to take off his jacket. He walked to the hanger near the entrance and hung it on there before returning to his spot in front of the kitchen island. 

Jinki came back almost simultaneously, gaze fixed on his screen. 

"Hmm… I’m not sure we’ll find what we are looking for…" He lifted his head up. "Maybe we should-"

The pause was abrupt, weird even. But the brunette’s gaze gave it all away as it settled on the other’s chest before traveling further down. It wasn’t the first time Jonghyun was at the receiving end of the taller one’s hungry eyes, but it never failed to make him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. 

"Maybe we should what?" Jonghyun reminded with a thin voice as he tried to distract himself from his own desire. 

Jinki’s eyes shot back up to his face, confused. 

"Eh?"

The blonde cleared his throat.

"You were talking about the food…"

"Oooh, right," the older one said, face lighting up with realization before he looked at his phone again. "Um… so yeah, it seems like no restaurant near here makes that type of food, so it would take an eternity before it arrives here."

"Aaaw, that’s too bad," Jonghyun expressed with disappointment even though in truth, the matter left him highly indifferent. 

"So what do you want to do?" Jinki asked, a slight pout curling his lips. 

That on the other hand, didn’t leave him indifferent. 

"Hmm, how about pizza?" he proposed as he thought of the last time he had ordered in. 

"Yeah, pizza’s good," Jinki agreed. "I haven’t had that in ages actually," he realized upon further thought. 

"That’s perfect then," the younger one settled with a soft smile. "I’m bringing you back to basics."

"Definitely," the other chuckled. "You better not judge my choice of toppings though."

"As long as it’s not Hawaiian, you’re good."

Silence followed. 

"Oh come on, really?" Jonghyun exclaimed in disbelief. 

"What if it is?" 

The blonde crossed his arms resolutely.

"Well, I’ll judge you for sure."

"That’s it?" Jinki taunted, amused. 

"Well, yeah, that’s it," Jonghyun threw back, annoyed. "I’m not going to leave or something. That would be dumb."

The other’s amusement morphed into a full-blown laugh.

"Thank god you’re not that dramatic."

The blonde frowned.

"Is that sarcasm?"

"No, sweetheart. Of course not," Jinki kept on, giving him a sweet smile that made his words ring even more insincere.

"You know that I hate you, right?" Jonghyun threw right back at him.  

"I can live with that," the older one brushed off as he redirected his attention to his phone once more. "Plus, I hate Hawaiian pizza."

“Oh, thank the fucking lord," the blonde sighed out, relieved. 

Jinki shook his head at that. 

"You are truly something else."

"I just have good taste, that’s it," Jonghyun shrugged off. "So what are you ordering?"

"That Meat Lover’s one sounds good."

"And that’s when I remember whose cousin you are."

The older one laughed. 

"We gotta have some things in common."

"That’s really all I hope you two have in common," the blonde scoffed. 

"Are you really friends with Taemin?" the other taunted in reply. 

"Depends on my mood, really."

That was met with more laughter, but Jonghyun hadn’t really meant it as a joke. He did love his friends, but he also truly hated them sometimes. 

"So, what kind of pizza do you want?" Jinki asked. 

"All-dressed is fine."

"I thought you would’ve preferred Bare-Naked…"

Jonghyun frowned, confused, but caught up soon enough when he recognized the pleased smile the other was sporting.  

"Your jokes are just getting worse and worse," he voiced, scrunching up his nose in disapproval. 

"Oh, and I thought you said you had good taste," Jinki struck back before the same smile stretched even wider on his face. 

"Fuck you."

"Wow. Best comeback ever."

The reaction was immediate. Anger flared bright and hot inside the younger one as his jaw tightened and his hands balled up into fists. He was ready to go off the rails and rage, but before any words could come out of his mouth, the adult in him spoke up. 

Let it go. 

The voice was firm and resolute, decided to not let his weakness overcome him. 

If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice and would freely let himself throw a tantrum, but he had enough conscience to not want to self-sabotage in this moment. 

"Whatever," he grumbled instead, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Ah, please don’t be mad at me," Jinki implored as he caught his surly demeanour. "I’ll make my bad jokes worth your while, I promise," he added with a smile that could redeem a million sins and that instantly made the other’s heart somersault. 

“You'd better," the latter grumbled between his teeth before the brunette went on to call the pizza place and put in their order. 

"They said it’ll be here in twenty minutes," Jinki informed as he hung up. 

"Good," Jonghyun answered absent-mindedly. 

His attention had already been caught by something else in the time their conversation had lapsed. 

"Is that a piano book?" he asked as he pointed to the living’s room center table. 

Jinki’s brows shot up with surprise before his eyes followed a few meters ahead. 

"Oh, I forgot to put that away," he realized with some embarrassment. 

"So you’re learning to play piano?" Jonghyun pursued with inquiring eyes that bore into the taller one’s profile. 

"Yeah…" Jinki revealed, the scrutiny making him uncomfortable.  

"Since when? How? Where?" Jonghyun went on eagerly, obviously unaware. 

"Um… Just started a few months ago…" Jinki cleared his throat. "I take a class every Sunday and practice with a keyboard at home whenever I have time."

The blonde’s brows formed a tight frown over his bewildered eyes.

"Why am I learning this just now?"

"Didn’t really think you’d be interested…"

The muttered answer didn’t go unheard. 

"Not interested?" the younger one exclaimed a little louder than intended. "You know I study in a Music program, right?" he tried to say in a calmer tone despite his growing frustration. 

"Yeah, I know…" Jinki sighed, making the blonde’s brow cock upward. 

"So what gives?"

"Nothing," the older one quickly answered. "I didn’t think it was anything important, it’s just a little hobby I picked up again."

"Again?" Jonghyun immediately caught. "So you played before?"

"Yeah…"

"You’re into music!" 

Exclamation points were flashing in the blonde’s eyes, that piece of information alone firing up all his synapses. 

"This is one of the first things I should’ve known about you!" he reproached despite himself. 

"Like I said, it’s not that important in my life that I felt it was worthy of mentioning," Jinki reiterated, a bite of annoyance marking his words. 

"Not important, but the book is on display in your living room?" the blonde challenged, unwilling to let it go. 

"I just forgot it there."

"Well I’m glad you did, because from what I’m understanding you had no intention of letting me know about this," Jonghyun threw back, feeling more and more cheated. 

"That’s got nothing to do with us," Jinki said, trying to keep his tone even. 

Any kind of restraint the other was trying to keep over himself flew out right there and then. 

"Are you serious right now? How is something we have in common not relevant?" he went off, voice not far from a shout. 

"Jjong," Jinki warned. "Drop it."

"Or what?" he scoffed. "It’s not like you’re going to kick me out or something."

Despite his best efforts to keep a neutral expression, that was the brunette’s final straw.  Hard eyes looked straight at the younger one. 

"Don’t think I can’t."

Jonghyun’s frown deepened, jaw clenching with tension.

"You gotta be kidding." 

That clearly wasn’t the best thing to say. 

"Not this time." 

The brunette’s tone was sharp, unarguable even.

If Jonghyun didn’t know any better he’d think it wasn’t the same man before him. This man he was looking at was almost scary. 

"Really?" 

His own tone faltered under the weight of the other’s gaze, sounding almost meek. This wasn’t at all how he wanted the night to end. 

There was a pause, a quiet exchange through their locked gazes. Despite it, Jonghyun couldn’t for the life of him guess what the other would say, but he was praying with all his might that he hadn’t screwed up this whole evening. 

Just as the guessing game was getting the best of his nerves, a sigh broke through the dense silence. 

"I don’t want to kick you out, Jonghyun,” was the first thing the brunette said as his whole demeanour softened.

Thank god. Jonghyun’s shoulders relaxed.

"You fucking scared me for a sec."

"Did I?" Jinki questioned, surprised. 

"Of course!" The blonde gave him an astounded look. "You look fucking scary when you’re mad!"

Jinki chuckled.

"Oh, well," His mouth stretched into a pleased smile. "I guess that’ll teach you."

The blonde’s lips parted, but no words came out. Who the fuck are you? 

"Look." Jinki stepped closer to him, his expression having regained some seriousness. "I’m sorry I reacted that way." 

Jonghyun jumped slightly as a warm hand cupped the side of his face. It wasn’t long before he was melting under the gentle caress.

"No, I’m the one who’s sorry."

"Sorry for?" the older one teased with a soft smile which made the blonde scrunch up his nose in annoyance. 

"Sorry for pushing it," he said, disgruntled. "But you can’t blame me for getting passionate about you playing an instrument," he quickly followed up, arms crossing one over the other. 

The other’s hand dropped down.

"You know that any kind of justification following an apology makes it sound fake, right?" 

The playful jab drew out a scowl on the smaller one’s face. 

"So be it, I’m not taking that back."

Before the brunette could retaliate, he plunged forward, planting a kiss on his slightly parted lips. A barely audible sigh met the gesture before their lips locked fully, bringing a heightened sense of warmth to reverberate through their bodies. 

Jonghyun was not going to play nice this time. His tongue spoke for him as it swiped across the taller one’s lips, asserting its will. Being shown no resistance, he let it slip in with ease, claiming the mouth he had become so addicted to. Desperation and pleasure coiled inside his stomach as the brunette fought back with more passion, pressing their bodies together with a firm pull around his lithe waist. 

The blonde whined against him before one of his hands shot up to the back of his neck while the other gripped on the front of his black shirt. A groan answered the gestures, vibrating low and sensual through the kiss. Clearly, he had struck the right chord, because a moment later, the hands around his waist moved further back. 

A gasp escaped him, his eyes shooting wide open as the brunette’s hands squeeze his ass hard. Their gazes locked as the other checked for a reaction, a self-satisfied smirk breaking their lips apart for a second before he dove back in for seconds. 

Jonghyun moaned again, holding on even tighter to the taller one’s shirt. He was clearly losing the power he had first asserted. But he didn’t mind it. He wanted Jinki to show himself impatient; to show him how much he wanted this, too. 

And impatient he was. Before Jonghyun could get accustomed to the feeling of having his ass cupped by resolute hands, he was suddenly submitted to the delicious pain of having a crotch fully pressing against his own. By the way Jinki was pushing against him, he knew this was no accident. He was finally showing his hunger and the blonde was beyond delighted. 

"Jjong…" Jinki breathed out, barely pulling back. His mind blanked as the other’s tongue poked out to lick at his bottom lip, pupils blown out wide. "I…"

The aborted statement emboldened the smaller one, the grip he had on his shirt finally letting up as he slowly slid his hand down his covered chest, not missing the shiver and the clench it provoked on its way down south.

He tugged on the taller one’s belt, eliciting in him a poignant sense of déjà-vu. Their eyes locked again, making Jonghyun’s heart race from the implications he could read in the dark depths facing him. 

Gaze unwavering, his hand went to work, sliding the belt’s tongue out of its metal buckle with a ringing sound that cut through the heavy atmosphere around them. 

Watching the taller one’s Adam’s apple respond with a slow bob up and down his throat, gave him the last push he needed not to hold back anymore. He dropped to his knees unceremoniously, not minding the dull pain of landing on a hard surface. 

There were more important matters at hand and Jonghyun was going to make sure to give his full attention to them. The first being to close the gap between his first fantasy and reality. His eyes focused on what was before him, the thought of what he was about to uncover being enough to make him lick his lips again. 

Maybe he should have been questioning the fact that he felt hungrier for dick than actual food, but that was going to have to wait for another time.  

Without hesitation, his index finger and thumb pinched at his zipper and unfastened it, letting the curve of a bulge peek out from behind another layer of fabric. Jonghyun was impatient for sure, but he also liked to tease a bit. His hands tugged at the edges of the other’s jeans, sliding them down until they collapsed to the floor on their own. 

Meanwhile, his mouth moved forward on its accord, going straight for what it wanted. A hissing sound and a grip on his hair graced his senses as he took a light bite at the clothed erection that was already swelling up before him. 

He gave another bite, this time harder, and the hiss turned into a curse. Jonghyun smiled, pleased at the power given to him after such a long time. But he wasn’t without being bothered himself, feeling his own pants tighten. Want was coursing through his body making it tense and heated and focused only on making it reach its apex.  

Conscious again of the hand buried in hair, he looked up to see the upstairs result of his ministrations. The sight made his heart skip a beat. The man hovering over him had an expression of troubled lust, brows kneading tightly as his mouth hung slightly open. 

He had seen that face before, but he didn’t want a repeat of previous times. Jonghyun knew what he wanted to see this time. Looking back in front of him, he started kissing at his clothed erection, mouth and tongue traveling along it with languid strokes. He only stopped when he felt a harder pull on his hair, the dull pain making him moan. 

"Jjong…" The brunette halted, voice shaken by a quiver. "Wait, please…the pizza…"

The blonde’s brow arched up in disbelief. 

"You’re fucking kidding me," he spat out. "I’m about to suck your dick and you’re thinking about pizza?!"

"It's not that," the brunette quickly defended. "But the delivery guy's com-"

His brain short-circuited as he was suddenly bared of his underwear, leaving him hard and exposed. He didn't dare look down, an acute sense of discomfort seeping through the excitement that was spreading throughout his body.

"You're fucking kidding me," the blonde repeated, sounding breathless.

A beat of silence followed before his mind spoke on its own.

"You're fucking huge," he said louder this time.

He was too focused on the monumental piece of hard dick before him to notice the blush that had spread across the other's face.

"Fuck..." he let out, mesmerized. "Your hotness just keeps on giving, huh?"

Before the brunette could offer any input, lips suddenly took him in, giving a tentative suck to the crown of his dick already salivating with pre-cum.

His hips bucked, instinctively pushing more of himself into the tight warmth offered to him. The gesture was welcomed with a moan that vibrated through him and made him weak in the knees.

A resumed grip on the other's hair steadied him enough to withstand the subsequent assault. As he felt the base of his dick being squeezed by a firm hold, the blonde pulled back only to leave wet strips on the underside of his cock with an obviously experienced tongue, making him whimper at the bottom of his throat.

"Jjong..." he breathed, lids fluttering over his eyes.

The blonde's answer was sucking at his balls, giving them each their moment of glory inside his mouth before he moved back to the main course.

This time, he didn't test the waters. No, this time, he instantly took the dive, plunging the erection he had been sizing up deeper into his mouth.

Any restraint the brunette had tried to keep over his voice collapsed as the sensation sent a loud moan flying out through his parted lips.

"Fuck..." he cursed out as he finally looked down, hand softening a bit in the other's fluffy hair.

The blonde was covering him almost completely, cheeks hollowed out to accommodate more of him inside. The sight almost made him cum, the familiar pang in his lower belly hitting him deep.

"Jjo-"

His throat tightened around a groan as the one he had meant to warn began moving up and down his length, bobbing his head in a slow but steady rhythm.

A satisfied hum graced the motion, breaking the suction sounds that were filling the room. It wasn't long before Jonghyun picked up the pace, finding a perverse kick in almost choking every time he deep throated the other.

His pants became unbearably tight, but he didn't tend to it. He could probably get off just by sucking him off.

"Shit..." 

The curse above came with a rougher tug on his scalp.

"Jjong, I'm-"

But words came a little too late. A forward thrust in brought him deep inside the other's mouth again, letting it all go with a grunt.

"Ugh."

Suddenly, warm and thick cum was shooting at the back of the blonde's throat, making him wheeze, but he stayed put, welcoming it with all the greed that had built up inside him throughout these past weeks.

And from the load he was drinking in, he could tell the build-up was reciprocal. Jinki was just giving him a taste of it right now, leaving him wanting more.

As the brunette slowly pulled back, releasing his spent dick from his mouth with a wet pop, Jonghyun's gaze shot back up to him like an expectant dog looking at its master.

Jinki met his gaze with a mix of fondness and embarrassment, simultaneously flattening his hand over his bright shock of hair to gently comb through it.

"Sorry..." he quietly said.

Jonghyun almost swooned under his touch, but the apology instantly pulled out a reaction from him.

"What are you even apologizing for?" he retorted, annoyed.

The brunette looked away, averting further scrutiny. 

"I don't know, just..."

They were pulled out of their bubble by the sudden buzzing sound at the door, reminding them of the world that existed outside of them.

"Oh shit, the pizza," Jinki shouted out in panic.

Quickly rushing to get fully clothed again, he then ran to answer through the intercom at the door, leaving an even more annoyed Jonghyun to frown at the interruption.

"Tell me we are not really going to stop to eat pizza now," he verified as Jinki walked back up to him.

Confusion spread across the taller one's features.

"Well I already buzzed him in..."

Jonghyun rolled his eyes.

"I know," he huffed. "But that doesn't mean we need to eat it now."

"But then it'll get cold..."

"Are you fucking serious?"

An apologetic smile crept up the other's face, frustrating him even more.

"I'm afraid I am," he said, before holding out his hand for the other to take.

Jonghyun was tempted to ignore it, but finally grabbed it and let himself be helped up to his feet.

As soon as they were at eye level again, Jinki kissed him, soft and easy, tasting himself off his pliant mouth.

Pulling back just an inch, he said, " We've got all night to ourselves."

Jonghyun shivered, the words settling his impatience just a bit.

"Also," Jinki added. "If I don't eat before, my old bones won't be able to keep up with your youthful vigor."

His words were met with a distinct eye roll that made an honest laugh rumble out of his chest.

The doorbell ringing broke them apart and Jonghyun used that opportunity to take a trip to the bathroom. He ventured into the hallway in search of it, but before he could get there, he couldn't help but peak into a gaping door, the outline of a bed catching his attention.

He pushed it further open as his nose took note of the whiff of savory flavor coming a few meters away.

Even if he couldn't have been sure of whose room it was, what he found on the bed gave him the answer. From head to foot, the whole mattress was covered in white peonies. His eyes widened and mouth fell wide open as his heart thumped loudly inside his chest.

He was so stunned that he failed to hear the footsteps that were getting closer. It was only when a hand settled on his shoulder that he got abruptly pulled out of his trance, jumping in surprise.

Darker eyes met lighter ones as the blonde turned back slightly.

"I decidedly can't do anything right tonight," Jinki uttered, somewhat dejected. "I should've known to keep my door shut."

Jonghyun was immediately punched in the gut with guilt. 

"No, no, it's my fault," he immediately countered." I shouldn't have been snooping around, I just wanted to go to the bathroom..."

"It’s alright, really," Jinki halted before looking back at the bed. "So, what do you think?"

Jonghyun followed his line of sight, once again taking in the angelic sight the petals formed on the bed. He had seen such gestures being made in movies and had always thought they were over the top and cheesy, but to actually have someone do that for him...

And they weren't anything generic like roses, they were actually his favorite flowers.

"I... It's... It's..." He swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. "It's perfect."

The words fell out of his mouth with an unfamiliar quiver, prompting him to clear it out with a cough.

"I'm glad you think so," Jinki welcomed with a huge grin. "I remembered you mentioning these were your favorites when we were walking through the national park."

Jonghyun blinked at him, surprised.

"Wasn't that like weeks ago??"

The brunette laughed.

"I know I'm old, but I have a good memory."

The younger one's mind blanked again at that, dumbfounded by the gesture.

"Are you okay?" Jinki couldn't help but ask with a chuckle after a whole minute of silence stretched between them.

"Yeah..." Jonghyun breathed out. "It's just..."

He inhaled deeply before looking straight into his eyes again. 

"Why would you do something like that for me?"

Taken aback, the taller one answered on the spot.

"Why wouldn't I?"

When he saw the unchanged expression of confusion and astonishment on the blonde's face, he went on. 

"I thought I had made it clear that I really like you."

Jonghyun's eyes darted away, embarrassed.

"But..."

"No but," Jinki interjected. "I know that's not what you're used to, but I want you to know how much you mean to me."

The confession made his heart somersault. He felt an overwhelming warmth spread through him and suddenly, it all felt too much.

"Jinki..." he started faintly. "I don't deserve this."

As he watched a deep frown crease the other's thick brows, he went on.

"You've been so sweet and attentive, and I've just been..."

An asshole.

A liar.

"I've just been..." 

He wanted to say the words, but they felt stuck.

"You've been just perfect," Jinki filled in, giving him a loving look that only made him feel worse. "I don't know where this is coming from, but-"

"I've been lying to you," he blurted out as a window of imminence opened wide before him.

The other's gaze widened before narrowing under another frown. "What..."

Jonghyun's heart flipped, stomach coiling with anxiety.

"There is something I need to tell you.”

[p4nkow]

D is for Dangerous - part III

Wow, part III already! I really, really love how it’s turning out and I’m so excited for you to read this —and the following — parts. Pls let me know what you think about it, I love reading your comments!

Visual evidence of the characters: One, Two, Three, Four (of course), Five, Six, Seven, Harry (I know he has brown eyes, but let’s pretend he doesn’t).  

Part I, Part II

Summary: driven by the desire of revenge, the reader tries to take down the man who ruined her life only to find out that her plan is an utter fiasco; however she meets a man that is gonna change her life and give her the chance of a lifetime

Four!Ben x Fem!Reader

hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Nine days after the explosion – five days until the hit on Kuklinski

The map on the table wasn’t particularly interesting, the despite the fact that you’d been staring at it for minutes by now. You weren’t interested in its details; you were just trying to avoid Six’s gaze. It was almost impossible to look at him after the events of the previous day – which meant his rejection in particular.

Three’s work had borne fruit: the special camera he was working just a few days before was already being tested on Six. The images were being projected in a big, flat screen pinned at the main wall of the living room. “Is it too obvious?”

Two narrowed her brows at One’s question as he tried to hide the camera as best as possible in Will’s suit. “Try another spot. That one is too low.”

That’s when you looked up, focusing on Six while you tried to avoid the rest of the group. The thought of Four and Five almost convinced you to give him a quick look, but you tried to fight that instinct.

Instead of being put and watch One placing the camera on Six, Three and Seven were reviewing the plan. You could hear their chatting from you were sitting, on the comfiest sofa you’d ever seen. And especially very far away from Four, who was standing against the wall on your left. Four was right next to him and it didn’t surprise you at all.

“This suit is way too tight.” One sighed deeply at Six’s complaining and you chuckled.

“Just think it’s for a good cause”, you intervened with a little smile. Six’s brown eyes moved on you and they lit up when he smiled back at you. “You guys are gonna be the end of me.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Two couldn’t take anymore Six’s complaints, eye-rolling in sign of annoyance.

You could feel Four’s green eyes on you at your little interaction with Six.

You just couldn’t bare the weight of looking back at him, which reminded you how embarrassed you felt after leaving the gym.

One kept trying different spots for the camera, but you stopped paying attention at the third attempt. You found yourself wondering the reason of Four’s rejection. Maybe you were right – him and Five were a couple. It’d also explain the reason of Five’s hatred towards you. Or maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe he simply didn’t like you back. To be honest, you didn’t know which of the two possibilities was the worst.

“Eight.” Five’s firm tone brought you back to reality. When you turned towards him, his cold eyes were already on you.

“Hm?”

“You sure you can handle going inside together with Five at the party?” Five was definitely the last person you wanted to partner with, but you had to make it work. Seven gave you a quick nod when you confirmed him your role. You could make it. Fuck Kuklinski and his stupid parties.

What you didn’t expect, though, was Four’s intervention as he said “Isn’t it too dangerous?”

You didn’t know how to interpret his words. Was he worried about you or was he only worrying about the fact that you could screw things up? You couldn’t deny that it was hard for you to put feelings aside and act rationally when it came to Kuklinski, but you weren’t going to fail them. Those people had given you a chance you weren’t going to waste.

“I can do this.” Four looked at you by hearing your firm tone and that’s when you finally looked back at him. You couldn’t help but give a quick glance at his lips, thinking about how you felt when you kissed him just the day before.

His deep, green eyes were darker than their usual colour. Maybe because of concern, maybe because of tiredness. He raised a brow and gave you a sceptical look, his shoulders rise and lower as he sighed deeply. “We already know you just switch off your rational part when it comes to Kuklinski.”

“I’m not going to screw things up.” The bitterness of your tone caught Two’s attention, who gave you a quick concerned look before going back into helping one. Three, Five and Seven looked at your little conversation without intervening just like a bunch of teenagers would look at children getting into a fight.

“You actually did, and that day at his party proved that. You didn’t even notice the rest of his guards.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything stupid”, you defended yourself. But he was right – your plan that night was full of inaccuracies.

“Yeah, because I didn’t let you. You were going to get yourself killed”, Four said by articulating his words. He wanted you to get his message.

“And what if I did?”

His jaw clenched and he exhaled deeply, his green eyes still fixed into yours. You wanted so badly to read the expression in them, but you couldn’t. You didn’t care if you ended up dead – you only cared for the plan to work. “I’m ready. I won’t screw it up.”

“You better not to.” It was the first time Five intervened. If stares could kill, you’d be dead already. “One wrong move, cariño. Just make one wrong move and—”

“And what?”

“That’s enough”, One spat.

You exhaled deeply and after holding her stare for some seconds more, you looked away. You had no idea what was her problem with you – you’d done nothing to her – but whatever her reason was, you knew she wasn’t kidding when she was about to say she was going to kill you herself if you screwed things up.

You’d had enough. You were sick and tired of being treated as the weakest link in the chain, as if you were a burden to carry. So you just got up and left the room, leaving them all behind. Before turning the corner, you felt like Four was calling your name.

-

The cold breeze blowing in the rooftop was helping you clean your thoughts. As you enjoyed the wind through your hair, the little spat with Five seemed just a distant memory. The lights of a LA were as bright as the stars of the Milky Way. The sight of the city under you was probably what pushed you to do what you’d promised not to do.

You took one of the laptops with ghost chips kindly provided by One and you sat down. Before thinking twice about it, you opened a search page. It was a terrible idea, but there was no turning back. You searched your own death.

The news page was filled with different articles — you were pretty sure they all said the same things, until you found one in particular. It wasn’t about your death, it was about your funerals. You quickly opened it and the pictures left you almost breathless.

Your sister Emily looked destroyed, completely devastated. Her face said it all. It was the same expression she had after your parents’ death — vacant, detached from the world. Your heart ached at the sight of her sorrow. What did you do? Did you do the right thing? Your nephews’ faces had been obscured and it was for the better. You weren’t sure you could bare their saddened eyes. The pictures portrayed them entering the Church, following your hypothetical casket. An empty casket. A lie.

You didn’t feel the tears watering your eyes but once they started falling on the computer keyboard, you just couldn’t hold yourself. Maybe because of the pressure of the last few days, maybe because you were starting question your decision, you found yourself sobbing between your hands, letting go all the distress in your body.

You had no idea for how long you’d been there, sitting all by yourself, but at some point Four joined you. He took the laptop from you, giving a quick look at the article before closing it and putting it away. It was inevitable for him not to notice your teary eyes and even if he’d noticed them, he didn’t say anything about it. He was just sitting there, right next to you, as if he shared your sorrow.

When you turned towards him, he was staring at the city lights in front of you. He seemed almost ethereal, with the shadows of neon lights lighting up his side profile. Some strands of his wavy, blonde hair had fallen on his forehead, partly covering his green eyes.

He must’ve noticed you were basically staring at him and he turned towards you. As soon as his eyes met yours, a corner of his lips lifted in a sad smile. He pursed his lips and looked down at your hand. Not long after, he placed his own on yours, almost as if he wanted to give you strength with that simple gesture.

“Do you regret it?” His voice was so low that his words seemed nothing but a whisper.

It took you some time to find the right answer to his question. “No, I don’t.”

And you weren’t lying. After all, you didn’t regret anything.

“I did at first”, he confessed.

You raised your brows in surprise, having a little sniffle before saying “Really?”

By hearing your surprised tone, he looked up at you. His warm hand was still on yours as his quickly glanced at you. “Yeah. I still do, in some respects. But I guess my motivations to do it were longer valid than the ones for not doing it.”

You slowly nodded at his words, moving your gaze from him to the city. “Even though I miss my family, I know that I did the right thing.”

“You’re lucky, y’know?” You narrowed your brows and by noticing your questioning look he added “You’ve got a family that loves you.”

His low and sad tone got you thinking of his past. The image of a young, extremely blond Six came to your mind and it made you smile. “You don’t?”, you dared to ask.

It was such an intimate moment, definitely the best of the last few days. You needed a bit of tranquillity and intimacy and that was exactly what Four was giving you. He turned again towards you and he gently squeezed your hand before saying “Not really, no.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sadness of the smile he gave you made your heart ache a little. “Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.” You felt tears watering your eyes again at his words, but this time you tried to hold them back. It was you who squeezed his hand this time, giving him all the support he needed. Despite everything, Four saved you. You were a lost soul, wandering alone towards your end, but he’d given you a purpose. Something to believe in. And you’d be forever grateful to him.

“You’ll have your revenge”, you whispered.

Four turned towards you. His staring was so intense that it almost made you look away. Thank God it was dark, or he’d have seen you blush. The memory of his rejection resurfaced in that moment and you cleared your throat, trying to look unbothered. “Yeah. Sooner than expected”, he confirmed.

“What do you mean?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. “You’re not the only one who hates Kuklinski.”

What did it mean? You narrowed your brows at his words, but even before you could think about it, he got up. Six looked down at you and your hand seemed incredibly cold without his covering it. “Four—”

“Go take some rest. You’ll need it.” He seemed like he couldn’t wait to run away.

You were being rejected, again. As he walked away, leaving you alone in the rooftop, you found yourself wondering what the hell was going on with him.

Twelve days after the explosion – two days until the hit on Kuklinski

The dress Two had loaned you was so bloody tight, you could barely breathe. You called her on it and she limited herself to give you a deadly look. “We need it to be tight.” You highly disagreed on that, but you didn't dare to reply. As you gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, the reflection seemed nothing but yourself. Your hair had been curled in order to hide the earpiece One had given you to keep in touch. Two had done a great job with your makeup but you didn't feel like yourself anymore.

“You look great”, she tried to reassure you and you faked a smile to thank her.

Today was the day — Kuklinski party'd have started in an hour and you and Four were going to attend it. Not that you'd been invited, though. One had asked you to fake the invitations and given your past experiences, you’d agreed to do it.

The two of you turned towards the door by hearing a knock on it. Four came in right after and you were pretty sure you were going to remember forever the expression on his face as soon as he saw you. Surprise flickered over his face as he stared at the fresh version of you. You could feel his gaze running through your body and God knows what was on his mind.

In that moment Two gave you two a quick look before leaving the room without saying a word. It was just you and Four now. His staring made you blush and you looked away, clearing your throat at the awkwardness of the moment. “What?”, you dared to ask.

He recovered in record time. “Nothing. I — I uhm.. brought you this. I just thought it might be more comfortable to hide instead of a gun.”

He was holding a knife. Giving a better look at it, you were pretty sure it was the knife he’d taken from you the first time you met. “That’s mine!”

“It was yours”, he immediately replied with a grin.

“Oh, shut up.”

You gave him a quick look before trying to embed it to your garter. You could feel Four’s green eyes on you, silently following your movements. “Will you be careful?”

You smiled at his worried tone, looking up at him. “I always am.”

“Seriously, though. Those people are dangerous, Eight.” You took a deep breath as you took a step towards him. Even though you were wearing high heels, he was still a few inches taller than you.

“I know. I swear I’ll be careful.”

His green eyes were now filled with worry — you could read him like a book. He slowly nodded and the two of you stood quiet for a while. He raised a hand and he gently grazed your cheek, making you close your eyes. His touch was so soft that it almost gave you goosebumps.

Until he inhaled deeply and took a step back, making you almost groan in frustration.

And that was almost two hours ago. Now you were already at the party and for the first time since you’ve met her, Five wasn’t throwing deadly looks at you. That’s probably because of the seriousness of the situation. Soft music was playing in the background as you and her, shoulder to shoulder, were chatting with a group of business man. Kuklinski’s shareholders, to be exact. The fakest smile was lighting up your face as you nodded every now and then, a sign that you were following the conversation.

You two were undercover, trying to find an excuse to have a free access at the building the day of the hit. As she was chatting with a middle-aged man, you tried to take note of the little details around you. Where Kuklinski was. Who he was chatting with. What he seemed to be interested to.

“Eight, try to get one of them alone. Create some intimacy.” One’s voice came to you crystal clear from the earpiece you were hiding with your wavy hair.

You looked quickly at each and everyone of them and as you tried to hide your disgust you suddenly said “I think I’m gonna need one more drink. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Actually”, one of them said as you were about to walk away. It was one of the youngest men in the group — he could’ve been your age. “I’d love to have another drink, too. May I join you?”

That’s what you were hoping for. You smiled in satisfaction and after exchanging a quick look with Five, you nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“That’s Harry Langbourn. I know him and he definitely works for Kuklinski”, Four told you through the mic. It was the first time he talked to you and you tried not to visibly react at his voice. You wondered why did he know so many things regarding your target.

“Are you enjoying the night?” Harry’s voice brought you back from your thoughts.

You faked a smile and pursed your lips as you sat on the barstool next to him, trying to pull down your dress to hide your bare thighs. Thank God it was long enough to hide the knife embed in your garter, just as you used to do.

Four’s face came to your mind at the thought of the knife — he’d given you an amused smile while watching you hiding it, probably remembering the first time you met.

“Yes, it’s really nice”, you replied in a polite way. The reason was, you had no idea how to act. Thank God, Two came to your aid, suggesting through the earpiece “Ask him personal stuff.“

“So”, you started saying as you watched him order two more drinks to the barman. “Do your personally know Mr. Kuklinski?” Had it been too obvious? If so, Harry didn’t seem to be bothered about it.

“Actually, yes. I work for him directly, we could say.” His green eyes seemed lighter when he smiled. They seemed familiar but even though he was a handsome man, you felt nothing but disgust at the thought of him working for Kuklinski. “Do you?”

“Lie”, One said. You don’t say, huh?

“Oh, no. I wish I did. We’re just business partners.” You were a better liar than you actually thought.

Harry raised his brows in a surprised expression. “Oh really? What kind of affairs?”

You cleared your voice as you tried to come up with a convincing lie. Thankfully you’d been interrupted by the barman, who extended you your drinks. You thanked him in a whisper before taking a sip of it, looking again at Harry and his brown hair. “The one you don’t wanna know about.” You added a little smile at your words, hoping you hadn’t screw it up. You heard One inhaling deeply and you started to feel nervous.

But to everyone’s surprise, Harry burst out into laughter. “That son of a bitch”, you heard Six murmur to the microphone.

“And do you have some business for me, too?”

You gave a look at he people around you, making sure no one was paying attention to you as you leaned towards him. Every second that passed you felt more and more confident — Harry was completely under your spell. “It depends”, you whispered, his face now close to yours.

“What the Hell are you doing?”, you heard Four whisper, followed by a bitter “Four shut up!” from Two.

“Depends from what?”, Harry asked. All you wanted to do was to stab him right there, but you had to stick to the plan. One had trusted you by letting you go instead of Two, and you had no intention of failing him.

You took another sip of your drinking, holding his gaze in the meanwhile. “Of what you’re interested in.”

Harry pursed his lips, looking down at his drink as he seemed to think at your words. “Let’s just say”, he replied right after “That I really love wintertime. Snow and everything, y’know.”

Snow. It meant drugs, and One confirmed it to you a few seconds later. You also heard someone cursing in the background but you didn’t understand who it was. Harry was taking for granted that all the guests of the party were criminals. What a fool.

You widened your fake smile as he looked up at you, slowly nodding at his words. “Why don’t we discuss about it in a proper way?”, you proposed.

Harry seemed to be caught off guard by your proposal. “Do you suggest a meeting?”

“Why not?”

He sighed deeply and narrowed his eyes, a tiny smile still impressed on his face. “A meeting it is, then.” He unlocked his phone and with the corner of your eyes you noticed he was checking his schedule. “What about Wednesday?”

“Uhm— I’m leaving on Tuesday for an international meeting.” You deserved an Oscar for your performance.

Harry nodded at your words and looked down at his phone once again. “What about Monday, then?”

Two days from now, exactly how you were planning. “Monday’s just perfect. My partner and I will be there.”

Thirteen days after the explosion – one days until the hit on Kuklinski

“This is all so fucking dangerous”, One sighed, placing his elbows on the counter as he covered his face with both hands. What a wonderful way to start the day. After weeks of planning, months of craving revenge, tomorrow you were finally going to take down the man that killed your parents.

The general mood wasn’t one of the best and for obvious reasons — you weren’t sure whether you plan would’ve worked. You guys had been working on it in great detail for weeks by now, but there’s always a flaw in the system. But what do you have to lose when you’re already pronounced dead?

“It’s gonna work.” Four seemed sure of his words. His voice, crystal clear, had been firm. No hesitations at all. He extended you one of the two mugs he was holding and he met your gaze just for a few seconds before focusing back on One. The sweet taste of cappuccino distracted you from their words.

Four’s thigh touched yours every now and then as he moved on the couch, sitting right next to you. You, on the other hand, were frozen still by nervousness. You had no second thoughts about what you were going to do, but let’s just say you weren’t exactly Beatrix Kiddo from Kill Bill.

Two nodded at his words but you focused on him. His back was tense, his muscles visibile from the grey shirt he was wearing. His blonde hair was shaved on the sides but with orderly blonde waves on the top. You found yourself wondering how it’d feel to sink your fingers on it.

For fuck’s sake, Eight. Focus.

“Eight?”

“Mh?” One was looking at you with worry.

“You sure you’re gonna make it?”

Seven pairs of eyes were now looking at you, so you boldly raised your chin and faked a tight smile. “I got it.”

And when everyone went back to their conversations, Four’s eyes were still on you. You could feel his gaze going down to your chest where your arms were crossed and even further, before going back to your eyes. “This is gonna be a breeze.”

“We’re gonna take down that motherfucker.”

He lifted a corner of his lips in an amused smile. “Yeah, we are.”

“You nervous?”

“Are you?” You saw a sparkle in his eyes as he turned your words on you.

A nod it’s all you gave him. His green eyes stayed on you for a few more seconds before moving his gaze to One, who was doing a recap of the final plan.

-

It was evening — the sun was up in LA and everything seemed to proceed just as planned. The strike was only a few hours away and you were trying to work off that nervous energy by working out. You were taking it easy — you had to serve your strength for the strike — but being busy helped you not to overthink. The less you thought, the less angry you were. And anger wasn’t a good thing in a situation that had to be handled in a rational way.

One-one, two. One-one, two. One-one, two. Focus on your target. Fists up.

“You got tired to hear One’s voice?” You turned towards the door by hearing his voice. You were breathless and flushed, your hands aching because of the impact with the punching bag.

Four was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed on his chest as a corner of his lips was raised in a little smile. “I’m sick of revisiting the plan over and over again.”

“He’s just nervous.”

“We all are.”

“So you admit it.” You placed a hand on the punching bag as Four slowly approached you. A thing you’d never admit was the fact that you were attracted to him.

“Never said otherwise”, You replied by raising your brow. His smile grew even wider.

“C’mere”, He said with a nod, silently inviting you to practice with him.

You cracked your neck after moving right in front of him. His eyes were inviting you to challenge him but his body language said something totally different. The way his body was always leaning towards you and how he closely followed your movements didn’t go unnoticed.

Without any warning you took a small step towards him, trying to hit him with a punch on his shoulder. He’d barely the time to step aside to avoid it, giving you a surprised look. “So you got claws, kitten.”

“Don’t challenge me, Four.” You blocked one of his fists and so did he. His skin was so warm against yours and he looked way more unbothered than he actually was. “Why are you so mad at him?”

“Who?”

Fist, fist, get down.

He knew exactly who you were talking about. “Kuklinski.”

“He has to pay for his actions.” What a lie.

Four blocked your fist — again — but instead of letting you go he blocked your arm against your chest and pushed your back against him. You could feel his toned muscles against your back as his hot breath grazed your ear. You tried to resist but he was holding you close against his body. “I don’t believe you”, you whispered, almost breathless.

“Joke’s on you.” When he realised you weren’t going to resist anymore, he loosened his grip on you. That’s what allowed you to turn towards him, face to face. You had to lift your chin to meet his green eyes, overwhelming and secure at the same time. From where you were standing you could feel his hot breath right on your lips.

“You see, everyone sort of told his own story. Two was a spy, Three was a hitman, Five was a doctor, Seven was a soldier.” Your voice was now just a whisper. “But you’ve kept all your secrets to yourself.”

“Isn’t it the point of all this thing? The code names? Not looking back, only forward.” He had no intention of giving up.

“That’s your excuse.”

You were testing him, more than sure than he was hiding something. But what?

And eventually, he fell apart. You could notice the change in his eyes. He took a step back from you and sighed deeply and he tried to summon up the courage to speak. “You really wanna know why I want revenge on Kuklinski?”

You didn’t trust your own voice so you just nodded a ‘yes’ as answer. Four seemed anxious, and you didn’t even know why. “Let me ask you something first.”

“Okay.” You were starting to get worried at his tone.

He run his fingers through his hair and took again a deep breath. “How did you feel about Harry?”

You narrowed your brows. “Harry Longbourn?”

“Yeah.”

What the hell was going on? “I... I don’t know. He’s with the enemy”, you simply said, trying to get where he was going to with his speech.

He stood quiet for a couple of seconds, in which he never looked away from you. His eyes were troubled, as if he was carrying a burden too heavy for him. “What about him?”

“He’s my brother.”

You couldn’t believe his words. It was like all the air was gettin’ sucked from your lungs and your legs felt like jelly. “He’s what?”

Four pursed his lips and slowly nodded. You noticed his Adam’s apple rise and lower as he waited for you to say something. Anything. But you didn’t. And what he said right after did nothing but confirm your horrible thoughts. “I used to work for him, Eight. I used to work for Kuklinski.”

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[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace, Chapter 2

A manorian high school AU

Words: 1773

Warnings: Vague mentions of psychological abuse

AO3 Link: Click here

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn't let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

‘Cause I’m gonna be free and I’m gonna be fine

But maybe not tonight

-Florence + The Machine, Delilah

Manon stared into her history book as the desks around her slowly filled up with students.

People were talking about their summers. Parties and hook-ups and vacations and memories made with friends.

She couldn’t have cared less.

The classroom buzzed with excitement over a new semester, a new year. She couldn’t have cared less about that either.

Manon only wanted one thing: To stay focused on her grades, get into a good college and get out of this hellhole. Only the best will do. You don’t want to end up like your mother, do you?

Shaking off her grandmother’s words, she looked up just in time to see Elide Lochan enter the classroom. The girl was wearing a light blue dress, wavy, dark brown hair cascading down her back, and she was headed straight towards Manon. Fuck.

She had managed three years of high school without having to share a class with Elide, but apparently her luck had run out.

Lochan was a walking ray of sunshine. Always smiling, always talking, always caring. She had been Manon’s best friend once, but that was a whole other story.

«Is this seat taken?» Elide asked, still smiling. Manon looked around to see that all the other desks had already been filled up with students.

«I guess it isn’t,» she answered drily before diving back into her book, trying her very best to ignore the girl sitting down next to her.

Elide put down her backpack, taking out her books and placing them in front of her. «How was your summer?»

That girl will only slow you down, stopping you from reaching your goals.

Manon shrugged, not taking her eyes away from the textbook.

She will find new friends as soon as you start high school anyway.

Elide - clearly not taking the hint - spoke again: «I really miss you, Manon.» Her voice seemed hurt, but Manon was certain she could hear a sliver of hope as well.

«No, you don’t.» She still couldn’t look up, couldn’t see the crushing disappointment surely written all over Elide’s face now.

You need to stay focused. You need to study, and not spend your time giggling over make-up and boys.

The next time Elide spoke, Manon lifted her gaze in surprise, for her voice was not shaking, it was hard, almost cold, as she said: «You think you can push me away, but I don’t believe any of this stone cold act you’re putting on. I see you, Manon.»

«No, you don’t,» Manon replied quickly, voice emotionless.

Elide didn’t cower under her stare, didn’t look away. She looked angry, and just as she was about to speak again, the teacher walked in.

Manon turned to face the board, their teacher clapping his hands together before saying:

«Welcome back! Before we get started on today’s lesson, I just want to let you know that the places you have now will be your places for the rest of the semester.»

Fuck.

-

Dorian was walking down the hallway with Aelin, who was furiously ranting about some book she had just finished.

«-and then she went to find this creature so it could tell her how she could heal him, and it reveals that they’re fucking mates! It was insane! So she did the only sensible thing, she stormed off, leaving him, but a few days later he finds her and he tells her everything and she accepts the bond - and believe me, I was sobbing when I read that part - and then they have sex for like 20 pages or something, it was wild - there are other scenes like that too and I didn’t know so I was reading the first one in front of my mom, and she just goes: you okay there Aelin? You look a little warm. I shit you not, she actually said that as I was reading this super steamy scene - anyway, you think everything will be fine but on the last pages EVERYTHING goes to hell and then it just ends!»

Dorian failed to hide his grin as Aelin gestured wildly. She looked mad. «You done yet?»

Aelin gave him a sheepish smile as she said: «Yes, I’m done. I can’t wait for you to read this so we can discuss it together.»

«I’m gonna start it as soon as I have finished my current read, did I tell you about that?»

But Aelin wasn’t listening anymore, Dorian noticed. She had stopped, her smile gone as she was staring at something ahead of them.

Dorian followed Aelin’s gaze until his eyes landed on Manon Blackbeak, standing by her locker, listening to her cousin with a bored expression. She was one of the seniors - just like them - but Dorian had never actually spoken to her. They had never shared any classes, and she wasn’t someone you could just walk over to and start a conversation with.

No, Manon Blackbeak was untouchable.

As Dorian looked at her, he had to admit she was rather pretty. She had long, silky, white hair, full lips wearing a bright red lipstick and her light brown eyes looked like molten gold.

Stop staring, you creep, he scolded himself, shifting his attention to Aelin.

«You okay?» Dorian asked his friend.

Aelin finally seemed to come out of her trance. «Yeah, she just gives me the creeps,» she said, nodding her head towards Manon. «I had PE with her last year, and I swear to god, she has the emotional range of a teaspoon.»

He looked over at her, smirking. «Did you just quote Harry Potter? Nerd.»

She lightly punched his arm. «We both know I could recite the whole series from memory,» she replied, rolling her eyes at him. «Besides, you took that reference. Nerd,» Aelin mocked back, mimicking his voice and sticking her tongue out at him.

Dorian laughed before realizing they now stood outside the science classroom. «Shit! This is my stop. See you at lunch?»

Aelin gave him two thumbs up and a grin before disappearing into the crowd.

As he stepped into the classroom, his mind wandered back to silky, white hair and a pair of golden eyes. Aelin might believe her to be incapable of feeling, but the depth of those eyes told a different story. A story Dorian wanted to hear.

-

«-five, six, seven, eight. And one, two, three -.» The music came to a halt, Manon turning around to face the rest of her team.

«Why did we stop?» Vesta asked, panting slightly, always the first to speak.

Manon didn’t have the patience for this. Today had been stressful enough as it was. After having to spend an entire history lesson with Elide Lochan, her day had progressively gotten worse. It was only the first day of school, and she had already been assigned with two tests and a two-thousand word essay.

«You’re falling behind again, Sorrel,» Manon answered, annoyance clear in her voice.

The routine wasn’t that hard. As long as you focused on the music, it was easy to coordinate the moves.

She could see Asterin rolling her eyes as her cousin bit back: «It’s the first practice after summer vacation! We should start with something easier to get back into the rhythm.»

«You should be in ‘the rhythm’ already. Actually, you should have spent your summer getting better. All the progress we had before vacation is gone now. If we wanna beat Iskra and her team we need to step up.»

You need to be the very best. Always. I won’t accept any less.

Manon could see that Asterin was about to protest, but she beat her to it. «And need I remind you, Asterin, who’s captain of this team?»

She turned the music back on, her grandmother’s words still repeating in her mind.

«We’ll keep practicing this until you know it backwards.»

-

Dorian was lying in bed, looking at old photos, an episode of BuzzFeed Unsolved playing in the background.

He kept scrolling until he reached a photo of himself and Aelin grinning madly as they were riding a rollercoaster. He remembered Chaol chickening out at the last minute, how Aelin clutched his hand as they neared the top, himself puking into a trashcan as soon as they got off. It was taken years ago, but Dorian could still hear the children screaming in frightened delight, could still taste the cotton candy he had shared with his friends, could still smell the popcorn.

If he focused hard enough, he could still feel what it was like being a child. When you had nothing to worry about, because your dad was the strongest, bravest person in the world and your mom could fix every problem.

But it wasn’t like that anymore. They had grown up. Dorian had grown up, and along the way he had realized that his dad was a weak and pathetic coward and his mom could barely handle her own problems.

He looked back at the picture. It wasn’t just his family that had changed.

Dorian, Aelin, Chaol.

It had been the three of them for as long as he could remember. Dorian couldn’t even recall how they had met. Aelin and Chaol was a constant in his life. The one thing he could always rely on, no matter what.

All of that was changing now. He could feel it.

They would soon be scattered across the country for college, and Aelin was spending much more time with Rowan, now that he was her boyfriend.

That isn’t the only thing keeping you apart, a voice inside of him said.

It was also the matter of the secret he kept from them.

Dorian still hadn’t told them he was bisexual. His stomach grew heavy as he yet again reminded himself of the fact.

He didn’t know what he was so scared of. They would without a doubt support him - and he wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, not in any way - but it was always a possibility, always a what if? And if he told his friends it would be out in the world, and Dorian would no longer have all the control.

The secret inside him kept tugging and tugging, fighting it’s way out, but something stopped it.

Dorian hated himself for not being able to just say it.

He was done letting this get in the way of his friendship.

This was the last year they all had together before going separate ways. He didn’t want to spend it pretending to be someone he was not.

He just had to find the courage first.

A/N: And we're getting started!

Thank you so much for reading this<3

Feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you think<3

Also, I will begin every chapter with a Florence + The Machine quote just because no one can stop me;)

Peace&Love -Dawninlatin<3

[cake-writes]

Little Lies (Part Four)

Pairings: Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader // Slight Natasha x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, 18+

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Part Three / Master List

The next morning, over breakfast, you moved your belongings to Natasha’s room like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was easy, casual, and logical – absolutely not a grand gesture. Honestly, it just made sense. You didn’t need to continue taking up space in the living room when she was more than willing to share her bed with you.

Tony cocked an eyebrow at it. You knew from past experience that he slept like a log and very likely hadn’t heard a thing. “And where are you going?”

“The bed’s big enough for two,” Natasha told him, smirking just a little as she took a bite of cereal.

You and Natasha shared a playful glance and you added, slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder, “Why, Tony? Wanna join us?” 

That actually got him to choke on his coffee. Tony Stark was rarely caught off guard, so it was quite an achievement. Made you feel a little proud, actually, but that feeling quickly disappeared.

“That’s enough,” Steve said, then, in that particularly authoritative tone that never failed to make your panties wet. “We’ve got big plans today. Get your things together and let’s go.”

When you met his eyes, you found that they were a deep, stormy blue and, for a moment, your breath hitched in your throat. Oh, he he was not happy. No doubt about it. Steve’s room shared a wall with Natasha’s, a fact you’d been blissfully unaware of last night. You certainly hadn’t been as considerate as you probably should have been, but deep down you were bitter and angry with how things had ended between the two of you and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Much. 

Then, when you brushed past Bucky on the way back to Natasha’s bedroom, he gave you a look – a single lingering look that made it plain as day that he knew what you’d been up to, too. Unlike his best friend, it wasn’t anger you saw in the pale blue of Bucky’s eyes, but concern. 

You just kept on walking.

You went out in the field for a little while that day. Being cooped up in a hotel room for three, going on four days straight wasn’t exactly the greatest for your mental health, and you needed some fresh air. That was all well and good, except for the fact that Steve had made a point to pair himself with you and it was painfully obvious why.

Tony was doing aerial recon whilst Bucky and Natasha canvassed a separate part of town. You were thankful for Tony’s suggestion that they handle that particular side of town, because you had no desire to return to it. Aside from Tony’s Iron Man suit, all of you were wearing plain civilian clothes: t-shirts and jeans, like typical tourists.

Steve’s voice had an edge to it every time he talked to you. Whenever he asked you to take a photo of something, write down a location, a name, anything that may have pertained to the mission, it was always straight to the point with him. He kept things strictly professional, which surprised you a bit; you got the feeling that he was about to boil over.

Natasha made a flirty comment over comms around lunchtime. That was what did it. 

You and Steve had slowly been making your way through an abandoned warehouse, dirty, nasty, with boarded-up windows and graffiti-covered walls. He’d just asked you to take a photo of one particular piece of graffiti that linked to the cartel you used to work for. Seeing it again bothered you just a little.

“You’ve got her taking all sorts of pictures, Cap,” Natasha teased. “Wanna take a selfie for me, babe?”

It was a joke. She was flirting, absolutely, but it was a harmless joke.    

“Focus on the mission, Romanoff,” Steve said sharply. His boots were heavy on the cold, hard concrete floor and echoed just as much as his voice did throughout the empty building.

“My, my, someone sure is touchy today,” Tony commented dryly.

Natasha knew just as well as you did that everyone but Tony knew exactly what you’d been up to last night. That much was evident. She also knew exactly why Steve was so touchy, and she let his attitude slide. 

No one dignified Tony’s comment with a response, especially not Steve, and comms went silent once again - except for your snort. You couldn’t help it. Out of everyone, poor Tony was the only one who was oblivious. 

In that moment, you and Steve had finally cleared the top floor: not a soul in sight, and not much else to go off of aside from a couple bits of graffiti. As you wrote that down in your notebook, out of the corner of your eye you saw him reach up and press a button on his earpiece.

He’d just muted it.

Oh. Oh no.

You didn’t have enough time to react before he had you up against the railing at the top of the stairs, hitting the same button on your earpiece. Your back pressed into the cold metal rail as his arms caged you in, keeping you in place. It didn’t hurt, but it was certainly enough to establish that he was in control.

It pissed you off just as much as it turned you on. The fact that you were two stories up and the railing was a little unsteady didn’t scare you as much as it probably should have.

“What the fuck, Steve,” you bit out, attempting to shove him away from you. He didn’t budge, despite the fact that you actually used his first name for once. It wasn’t on purpose.

“I should be asking you that question,” he spat at you – bitter, spiteful. “What the hell was that?”

You knew you shouldn’t have provoked him, but you couldn’t help it.

“Maybe she wants a keepsake,” you told him, clear annoyance seeping into your tone. “You know what a good lay I am.”

The railing audibly creaked from how tightly Steve gripped it in his hands at your snarky response. You didn’t even have to look to know that it was even more wobbly now than before. Every time you moved just a little, you felt like you were going to fall and the adrenaline from it made your heart race just as much as Steve’s body against yours.

“You think this is a game?” he asked angrily. “You gonna sleep with Tony next? Add him to your collection, too?”

Oh, boy, that set you off.

Before it even fully registered in your brain, you slapped him straight across the face, your palm connecting harshly with his cheek. His head jerked to the side from the impact, but you knew that it was only because you’d caught him by surprise. You were nothing compared to him, but the adrenaline pumping freely through your veins emboldened you anyway. 

“You need to back off, Rogers,” you hissed at him, shoving him in the chest again much harder than before. At that, he roughly released the railing, and the motion jostled you just a bit like the ragdoll you were against his strength – and of course that was what made the railing give out entirely, and you fell right along with it.

Steve reacted quickly just as he always did. He caught you by the wrist, his fingers burning hot against your skin. Familiar. When he pulled you forward, away from the ledge, he did it just a fraction too hard because you wound up on your knees. Your breaths came out in short, harsh pants from the near-miss, and you couldn’t help but glare up at him. 

He didn’t apologize.

You didn’t thank him.

For him, it was because your snide comments and shitty attitude set him off, made him act so petty and indignant and childish. He couldn’t help it. You drove him up a wall. 

For you, it was exactly the same, except vice versa – with the added caveat that deep down, you may not have wanted to be saved if he hadn’t caught you in time. Your self-loathing had no bounds.

Steve’s arms were crossed stiffly across his chest as he stared down at you, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You couldn’t help but be reminded of that one particularly wicked night where he and Bucky had you on your knees in front of them – and then they just had you. Every part of you. Fully. Entirely. 

The memory of it along with the adrenaline made your libido surge in what was probably the worst moment for it. You loved how strong he was. You loved how easily he could manhandle you and do whatever the hell he wanted to you. He could shove his cock down your throat right this second and you’d fucking thank him for that, at least – which was why you also hated that you loved it, because you were so pissed off at him and you’d still fucking do it. 

He didn’t offer to help you up, and you neither wanted nor needed him to. The air was tense and uncomfortable as you got to your feet and dusted off your jeans. You only broke the silence after you managed to clear away the majority of dirt and debris, and stooped to collect your discarded notebook. Then you rounded on him.

“You will never,” you spat viciously, jabbing a finger in his direction for emphasis, “ever put your hands on me like that again, Captain.”

You didn’t wait for a response before you spun around on your heel and made your way back to the bottom floor. Your footfalls were hard and uncompromising on the dusty metal stairs, full of righteous indignation.

How dare he put his hands on you in that bitter, spiteful way. How dare he judge you. The two of you had slept together for a few months. That was it. You were never exclusive. You never had ‘the talk,’ and even if you had, you would have said no because you weren’t ready for a relationship. You’d set some perfectly clear boundaries, and exclusivity was not one of them. Even now, he had no stake in what you did in your own personal time, especially in the bedroom.

Steve didn’t say a thing, nor did he offer an apology even after what you said to him. That was fine. You didn’t want to hear it, anyway. 

As he near-silently trailed behind you, you ignored him. Let him stew over what you said like the petulant child he wanted to be. You knew some part of him must have realized how badly he fucked up. You knew him well enough for that, judging by how quiet he was being. 

When you got outside, you unmuted your comms. The way you spoke to the group was entirely too normal for what had just occurred: yet another façade. You reached out not because you were hungry, but because you wanted some comfort and comradery. Some part of you felt weak and stupid for coming back here, let alone having to deal with this awful fallout at the same time. 

“Man, I’m starving,” you spoke casually into your earpiece. “Who wants to join me for lunch?”

“I saw a nice shawarma place—” Tony started, but Natasha cut him off with a groan.

“Ugh, Tony, no. Let’s go for something authentic. Get the real Cancun experience.”

You grimaced at that. You’d had enough of that for a lifetime, but you’d appease her. “Meet me at La Jerochita? It’s on Calle 71. We’re just a few minutes out.”

“Roger that,” she told you, and then comms went quiet once again. If there were any objections, someone would have spoken up, but no one did. 

Due to your distracted thoughts, you didn’t notice how easily you recommended the little taqueria. It was almost instinctive, truth be told, because you’d been there so many times – and it definitely wasn’t the greatest idea to go there again, not when you had a history in this town. 

On the short drive there, you just tried to focus on the fact that the food was amazing and it had been years since you’d last stepped foot inside the restaurant. Surely no one would recognize you. Surely. 

To say that there was obvious tension between you and Steve was an understatement. The two of you sat at one of the outdoor tables while you waited for the rest of your group to arrive, and you didn’t say a single word to each other the entire drive here. Instead, you busied yourself on your phone, scrolling through some news feed while Steve watched the passersby.

As a result, you missed the look Steve and Bucky exchanged when he arrived with Natasha.

“This is a hole in the wall,” she deadpanned. She wasn’t wrong.

You looked up from your phone to grin at her and Bucky. “That means it’s got the best food.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked you. “You can’t even tell it’s a restaurant.”

You just offered a nonchalant shrug in response. Thankfully, Tony chose that particular moment to arrive, which took the attention away from your deflection. He was in plain clothes like the rest of you, with his Iron Man suit tucked neatly away because technology.

Of course, Bucky’s question was quickly answered as soon as you walked up to the counter to order. There, you saw a familiar face you definitely weren’t expecting to see; you figured he would have long since retired. It wasn’t great that he rememebered who you were, but you were happy to see him nonetheless.

“Princesa,” the older man greeted with a bright smile on his face, taking your hands into his as he kissed both of your cheeks, and you did the same with him. It had been years since you last used your Spanish, but you still remembered quite a lot of it and could easily understand him. “It’s been too long! We’ve missed you!”

“I had to go away for awhile, Dario,” you told him in perfect Spanish. “How is your family?”

“Better than ever,” he told you cheerfully. “My youngest is in college now. He’d love to see you.” 

At that, you laughed – a real, genuine laugh. Dario’s youngest child was just a few years younger than you, and he’d had quite the crush on you in the time you’d spent here.

“I’m sure he would,” you said, smiling, before you gestured to your companions. “Unfortunately, I’m just passing through.” 

His brows raised in acknowledgement, and he gave your teammates a nod, as if to say hello.

“Hola,” Tony offered awkwardly, like an idiot.

Natasha rolled her eyes. 

Bucky couldn’t help but listen in to your conversation. He knew Spanish because of the Winter Soldier he once was, and the way you spoke to this man - Dario - was so familiar. You actually looked happy to see him. Bucky had noticed how bothered and tense you’d been since you found out where this mission was headed, Cancun, and he had an inkling that it had something to do with why he found you out on the balcony on that cold winter night in Iceland. Right now, though, the smile on your face was genuine. It warmed his heart. 

Although Steve was still in quite a mood, his features softened as he watched you chat so happily in a language he didn’t understand. This man was clearly someone from your past, and Steve didn’t know anything about the things you’d done before you joined them at the compound. He knew your abilities, sure, but not your history. He found himself wanting to, despite everything you’d done to him - to them, and he was having trouble putting the past behind him let alone the events from last night. He was angry, absolutely, but he didn’t mind seeing this new side of you. 

And you – well, you knew you’d have to explain yourself to your teammates, and that was fine. At some point, you would. For now, you’d enjoy some of the only pleasures you’d ever known in Cancun: Dario’s wonderful company, and the delicious meals that he and his family made. 

It made you remember that not everything had been so terrible here, once. Despite everything you’d done, you knew that Dario and his family would always welcome you with open arms. Seeing him again was a warm reminder of that. 

“I never knew you worked in Cancun,” Natasha commented as the five of you exited the taqueria.

You pursed your lips at that. She was too observant. If it was anyone else, they might have just assumed you just knew Dario in passing, like you’d met him on vacation. Cancun was a tourist hotspot, after all. She was absolutely right that you knew him through your work here, though – or at least by extension of it.

Of course, you and Natasha had never really been friends up until last night, basically, so it made sense that you’d never told her. That, and the fact that your previous work history was classified just as much as hers was. While once upon a time she released SHIELD’s files to the world and yours right along with them, a lot of details had been omitted via people much higher on the food chain just like hers had been.

Some things were meant to stay under wraps.

You hadn’t told anyone about your work in Cancun. Tony only knew because he had contacts just as high up on that same food chain. He was very thorough in his background check before he finally invited you to work alongside the Avengers nearly three years ago.

“Yeah, Nat,” came your short response. “I did.”

Maybe one day you’d go into further detail, but today was not that day.

It was quite clear from your body language and lack of further elaboration that it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss, and no one questioned your decision when you dismissed yourself from the group, advising that you were going to go run command again. You were here just consulting, after all, shouldn’t have even been in the field to begin with, etcetera, etcetera. Excuses, all of them.

The looks on their faces – even Steve’s, despite how angry he’d been with you – were enough to show that while they were concerned about you, they didn’t buy a single one of your excuses. Still, no one pried, and for that, you were thankful.

You made your way back to the hotel alone. It was a quick walk, about ten minutes, but to you it felt like hours. The moment the suite door shut behind you, you finally lost it. You slid down the closed door, buried your face in your arms and cried. 

You forgot to mute your comms.

No one had the heart to tell you.

Part Five

[vexedtonightmares]

-sens de la vie-

for: 75 dates in the skam universe @theskamlibrary

prompt: museum date

pairing: eliott demaury/ lucas lallemant

ao3 link

To preface, Eliott loved Lucas, he really did. More than anything. That said, if he didn’t shut up, Eliott might have to kill him. 

“I just don’t get it,” Lucas said for the millionth time that afternoon. What wasn’t to get? It was art, you didn’t have to understand everything to appreciate it. Besides, Lucas was the one who suggested a museum date, it wasn’t like Eliott had forced him to come or anything. 

“So you’ve said,” Eliott grumbled in response, moving to look at the next painting. Lucas jolted as he moved, and Eliott remembered with a small laugh that they were holding hands. Sometimes he forgot when they were touching because Lucas felt so natural to him that it was like an extension of his own body. He’d said something along those lines to Yann, Arthur, and Basile once, and they’d just laughed at how whipped he was. That was true, he knew that, but there was something stronger to him about this feeling. He’d never felt like that about Lucille. 

He liked to think it meant that they were soulmates, but he would never say it aloud. He could only imagine the monumental eye roll that would follow.

“Oh,” Lucas said in surprise, pulling Eliott from his thoughts, “I like this one.”

Eliott smiled in relief, that, finally, Lucas could appreciate art the way it was supposed to be appreciated, until he saw what Lucas was looking at. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Eliott!” A laugh bubbled out of Lucas, lighting up his whole face. 

“Those are the directions to lead to the next exhibition. It’s literally just telling you where to go,” Eliott explained patiently, trying not to let his exasperation show on his face. 

Lucas frowned. “Oh. I thought it was some sort of ‘break-the-third-wall’ piece with like, a deeper meaning about society and the direction of our lives. How we choose who gives our life direction, and how that’s the true secret to the meaning of life.”

“I think you meant the fourth wall,” Eliott said, completely dumbfounded. The one time Lucas actually puts thought into a piece of art, coming up with a beautifully analysis, he’s talking about the directions. Eliott was caught between strangling and kissing the hell out of him. 

“Isn’t that what I said?” Lucas asked airily, continuing to walk to the next room. He scrunched his nose when they got into the room, and Eliott felt his own blood pressure spike the second before Lucas opened his mouth again, and said, “I don’t get it.”

“I swear to god Lucas, you’re killing me,” Eliott said, putting his face into his hands. 

“What?” Lucas asked with genuine surprise. 

Eliott couldn’t help but laugh. Lucas was something else, wasn’t he? “You’ve said that about every piece of art, except the one that wasn’t a piece of art.”

“Well I’m not all arty like you, I just don’t understand this stuff. Like, what is this supposed to be? Those pairs of headphones aren’t connected to anything,” Lucas said defensively, crossing his arms. 

“Did you just call me arty?”

Lucas smirked. “I was going to call you an art hoe.”

Eliott ignored this, reaching for Lucas’ hand again and pulling him closer to the art in question. It had a title that looked to be in a different language. “Look,” he said, pointing to a sheet of instructions, “It’s an interactive piece, you’re supposed to plug the headphones into your phone and play a song that reminds you of love, or falling in love, and there’s a recording device installed in each pair that records the song. Then the songs are added to a playlist and broadcasted over a video about love in the next room over.” He blinked in appreciation. “That’s really cool actually.”

But Lucas was no longer listening, giggling to himself. Eliott took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows in question, silently asking what was so funny. Lucas bit his lip to contain his grin, pointing to where he’d pretended to plug a pair of headphones into a rock from a different display, a table over. When Eliott didn’t react, Lucas explained, through breathless giggles, “It’s rock music.”

Why and how had Eliott fallen so hard for this utter dumbass. If it was Lucille, he probably would have been livid that she was making a joke of the art, but with Lucas he wanted to laugh along. So he did, even taking out his phone and recording Lucas pretending to dance to the music, not caring if they looked like they didn’t belong there or if other visitors were judging them for not taking it all seriously. 

That was just it, wasn’t it? The fact that he wanted to share in Lucas’ joy, no matter how stupid it was, that was true love. He couldn’t imagine getting mad at Lucas, even if he didn’t get things the same way Lucas did. Because he knew that if their roles were reversed, Lucas wouldn’t get mad at him. Annoyed, maybe, but it was a fond annoyance, the kind that said You’re such an idiot but I love you so much anyway. 

Although, Eliott was still going to teach Lucas a bit about art. He planned on filling their lives and the lives of their future children with so much art, which meant Lucas had to be able to understand what he was so passionate about. Even if it meant he had to let Lucas teach him a bit about science. 

“Do you want to do it?” Lucas nodded at the headphones, and Eliott smiled in agreement. “Got a song in mind? I know that ‘Sexyback’ just screams Lucas Lallemant, but I don’t know if that’s the vibe they’re going for.”

“Hmm, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Sexy and I Know it’,” Eliott responded emphatically. Lucas flashed a quick grin, nudging his arm. 

“No really,” he said, “Do you have a song in mind?”

Eliott nodded. “I do, but I don’t know what it’s called.”

“How is that possible?” Lucas laughed.

Eliott shrugged, raising one eyebrow at Lucas. “Because you never told me.”

“What?”

“That song you played for me on the piano, the first time we hung out. Pretty sure my heart was yours from that moment on.”

Lucas’ face went bright red, but his expression screamed embarrassment, not love. “Oh, right.”

“Something wrong…?” Eliott prompted, confused. 

“I don’t remember what it’s called,” Lucas said quickly, “Oops, sorry.”

Eliott didn’t believe that for one second, but he could humor Lucas. “Ok, I guess I can try to look it up, I remember some of the notes.” He didn’t, but Lucas didn’t need to know that. 

“No, no, don’t do that. Just pick a different song,” Lucas tried fruitlessly.

“Can’t remember any others at the moment, unfortunately,” Eliott said with an exaggerated sigh. 

Lucas grimaced, closing his eyes. “I love you.” He peeked open one eye, glancing at Eliott before closing it again. 

“I love you too?” He did, it was just a little bit out of nowhere. 

Lucas groaned. “No, I mean, I do love you, but that’s not what I meant.”

“Ok?”

“‘I Love You’ is the name of the song,” Lucas admitted quietly, and Eliott grinned involuntarily, before he even registered what Lucas said. 

“I’m sorry?” he clarified.

Lucas crossed his arms again, opening his eyes to glare at Eliott. “You heard me.”

“I can’t believe you were so whipped for me that you played me a song called ‘I Love You’ the first time we ever hung out. You had a crush on me, didn’t you,” Eliott cooed, wrapping Lucas up in his arms, grumpy hedgehog that he was. 

“We’re literally dating! What does it matter if I had a crush on you, you had a crush on me too, Mr. I like surprising people,” Lucas squeaked indignantly, fussing in Eliott’s arms. Eliott kissed the top of his head to make him stop squirming, pulling their faces close together. 

“I’m just teasing. I love that song and I love that it made me fall in love with you. Can we both play it at the same time?” he asked, nodding to the headphones. Lucas glanced at his lips with heavy eyes, and Eliott indulged him, pressing their lips together in a brief but deep kiss. 

“Let’s do it,” Lucas said, pulling out his phone and plugging it in as Eliott did the same. They both searched the song and hit play at the same time, wrapping the headphones around their ears. The minute Eliott heard the first few notes being played, he smiled so wide he could barely see out of his eyes. Lucas leaned into him, holding out his phone to take a picture, but Eliott couldn’t even dim his smile for it one notch. Lucas didn’t seem to care though, placing his phone back on the table and wrapping his arms around Eliott’s waist. 

They listened to the whole song in silence, holding one another and letting themselves be transported back to the night Lucas had played it, their first unofficial date, really. If Eliott teared up a little bit, Lucas didn’t say anything about it, and if Lucas’ face was so red it was practically a tomato the entire time, Eliott didn’t say anything about it. They shared a few kisses, only because they really couldn’t help it, not only pressed softly onto lips, but also the top of Lucas’ head, Eliott’s cheek, Lucas’ forehead, Eliott’s hand, and everywhere in between.  

Once the song finished, they followed the path to the next room, where there was a large projection on the wall and a small bench with a remote. Lucas headed for it immediately, clicking a button to start the video, only to be greeted by a selection screen. 

“Oh, cool, Eliott look at this. We can choose what song to listen to with the video,” he said, pointing at the options. He looked so cute that Eliott just had to capture the moment, taking a quick video before sitting beside Lucas.

“We’re listening to our song, obviously,” Eliott said, taking the remote. 

Lucas rolled his eyes in fake exasperation. “Duh.”

They clicked play on ‘I Love You - RIOPY’ and saw their own faces looking back at them. Eliott saw his face split into the widest grin he’d ever seen, saw Lucas lean into him, saw them take a photo, saw Lucas’ arms wrap around his waist, saw them look at each other as if no one else in the world existed, watched them kiss one another, try not to cry, and fall in love all over again.

Eliott didn’t think either of them moved an inch during the entire video, gaping at it with mouths hanging open. As the song faded out text came over the screen, explaining the installation, and Eliott cursed himself for not thinking of something like it.

The theme of this project is love, but love has many forms. No one video could ever express the idea or feeling of love in the way you, yourself can. Music is a universal outlet for love, one that transcends language, race, sexuality, gender, and all else. So I gave you a task: find a song that is love in its purest form and play it. I’ll do the rest of the work, recording it and playing it over a video all about love. Simple, easy. But as much as love is universal, just as music is universal, that universality comes from individuality, of being the only person who can feel what you feel. The person I love once told me that, and it’s stuck with me ever since. There are cameras recording all over the gallery, activated once you plug in your device to play music, and they record what love means to you, the individual, through your choice of music. Love may make you happy, sad, angry, embarrassed, excited, all of the above, and more, so I compiled the footage to make a database of what love means to you, all of you, to show that no matter how love makes you feel, remember that at the end of the day love always wins, and you deserve all the love in the world. Alt er love. 

The screen faded to black and Eliott turned slowly to meet Lucas’ eyes. 

“Wow,” Lucas said, and Eliott could only nod. Because, wow. It was a genius idea, and such a meaningful one at that. Eliott could only imagine what other people thought when they viewed themselves up on that big screen, awestruck if not somewhat confused, at least until the artist’s note at the end. “That was incredible,” Lucas continued. 

“It was so unexpected, but it was perfect,” Eliott agreed, standing up to let the next person waiting come and experience the art. Lucas took his hand as he stood up, walking slowly as if still in a daze. 

“I get it now,” Lucas said once they were back outside the gallery space. “Why art means so much to you, why it’s so important. That was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m so glad I got to do it with you. If it hadn’t been you, I probably never would have come here, and this probably sounds dramatic, but I feel like my life and view on the world has changed for the better.”

Lucas put one of his hands over his face, cheeks reddening. “God, that sounds so stupid, look what you’ve done to me.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all. That was one of the most amazing installations I’ve ever seen. My life and view on the world have changed too. I might never have come here if you hadn’t suggested it either, you know,” Eliott said. In all honesty he probably would have, but it meant a whole lot that Lucas was there with him.

Lucas smiled a smile that nearly melted Eliott, and Eliott had to look away so he wouldn’t be publicly indecent with his affection. Upon doing so, he realized where they were, right in front of the art that wasn’t art that Lucas had analyzed so thoroughly it was all Eliott could think about.

“Stand in front of that wall,” Eliott said abruptly, pointing at the words on the wall. “I want it to look like the arrow is pointing at you.”

“Why?” Lucas asked, standing where Eliott had positioned him, glancing through his long eyelashes and laughing softly. 

Why? Because Lucas had thought a set of directions was art, and because Lucas gave his life direction. And that direction had led him, just as Lucas had said, to the meaning of life. He’d always known it deep down, but it was to love and be loved unconditionally, at least to him. Everyone could have a different interpretation, but that was the great thing about art, and about love itself, as the installation they’d viewed had stated. 

Lucas’ face was serious as Eliott took the photo, and Eliott’s heart grew about ten sizes in his chest, so much so that he was worried it might be so big he’d have to carry it around for a while. Lucas placed his head on Eliott’s shoulder, blinking with bright eyes. “Onto the next exhibit?”

“Look at you, you little art hoe,” Eliott said, tapping Lucas’ nose and ruffling his hair. Lucas scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes in regret. 

“Don’t push it,” he said, but Eliott could tell he was holding back a grin.

“Just one second,” Eliott said, pulling Lucas to the information desk at the front of the museum. The attendant looked up in surprise as Eliott approached. 

“What can I help you with?” she asked, looking between the two of them.

“I was just wondering,” Eliott began, “Who is the artist of the ‘Alt er Love’ installation?” He planned on becoming their biggest fan. 

The attendant smiled knowingly. “It’s a beautiful exhibition, isn’t it? We’ve received a lot of positive feedback so far.”

“It’s incredible,” Eliott said, only, it wasn’t Eliott, it was Lucas. Eliott had opened his mouth to speak, but Lucas had stolen the words before they could be spoken. 

“‘Alt er Love’ was created by a Norweigan artist named Even Bech Næsheim,” the attendant told them, and Eliott thanked her before walking off with Lucas to wherever they would go next. 

Whoever Even Bech Næsheim was, Eliott felt quite inspired by him and would definitely be researching him more when he and Lucas returned home from their date. He owed this artist more than just a simple gallery appreciation. It was one of the most impactful experiences of his life, there was no way he couldn’t acknowledge that. 

Alt er love. Eliott still didn’t know what it meant, but he liked it quite a bit.

[caffeinatedfantasy]

The Seal pt 20: Sorcery

{ Chris: [bio] [Prologue] [Story in Tumblr] [ AO3 Link From Beginning ]

Levi let me sneak into his room to get some peace. Solomon was going to be coming over and I'd spent most of the night before discussing some things with Satan. I hadn't seen Mammon yet since we'd made out, and I wasn't sure how to take that. So I'd convinced Levi to let me bring in a giant beanbag to relax in and I was planted in it as we watched one of his shows, the door firmly locked from his brothers.

"I can't believe you let Mammon use that pic as his wallpaper." Levi muttered, glancing over at me. I hummed a question, glancing up at him where he was sitting in his tub... Bed? I frowned, not understanding, and he motioned vaguely towards the scene on the screen. The two main characters had taken a selfie together, with one kissing the other on the cheek. That picture!

"So that's what he did with the pic, I wondered when he didn't post it on Devilgram." I shrugged, then paused, taking a moment to watch Levi for a moment. I could feel the emotion rolling off of him. Envy. It didn't take me long to connect the dots with this one. I smiled and pulled myself up next to him, using the edge of the tub to haul myself up and grinned at him. "Did you want a selfie together, then?"

"Wh-what? Why would I want something like that, it's such a normie--" He started, but I just kept smiling at him as I pulled out my DDD and set the timer.

"Well, I want a selfie, if that's cool." I knew it would be judging from the way his envy eased a little bit. I leaned towards him, holding it up and he was blushing, still faux-protesting a little bit. Looking at the view of us in the camera, I noticed he was too far away [he wasn't even looking, too embarrassed I guessed] and hummed. "Budge up nerd, I'm hopping into the tub for this."

He went even redder at that, talking about "Wh-why would you...", but he did indeed make some room, letting me crawl in in front of him and perch between his legs, leaning into him to get a good shot. It took a couple attempts, but after a moment, I had a decent one, where he'd leaned forward to rest his chin on the top of my head. He looked slightly annoyed or flustered, but there was enough hint of a smile.

"I like this one. You look cute in it." I tilted my head up, smiling at him and holding up my DDD. I had thought the envy would ease with a good photo, but as he stared down at me [not the phone, just me], it swelled again. He wasn't even looking at the pic. Frowning, I turned around, climbing into his lap to get even with him. He was going red, but he wasn't stopping me, either. He was just staring, slightly flustered, as I placed my hands on his chest to prop myself up. "Did you want it to a be a nerdy selfie? Or are you pouting cause you wanna go to the human world?"

He didn't answer, but I felt him huff when I called him out on his pouting. I huffed right back at him. [Since the pact with Satan, I felt myself getting easily annoyed at things, this behaviour included.] "Levi, if you want something specific, ya gotta tell me."

Still no answer, but I glanced down when I felt his tail curling around my waist. Something I realized he did when he was nervous or upset. I understood the social anxiety that made it hard to ask for even really silly things. And Levi had moments where he didn't even understand we were friends. And that was a feeling I understood too. So I waited for him to figure out what to say. Or tried to.

Both of our phones chimed with a text message and I lifted mine to take a peek at it. [Aaand a spike in envy.] Solomon was on his way upstairs. It wasn't going be too much longer before he was here. I sighed and tossed my phone onto the beanbag I'd been sitting in before. "I'm posting the one I took. If you want something else, you're gonna have to let me know, okay? But for now, it looks like Solomon's here. I'll get the door."

His tail squeezed around my waist briefly. A little too tightly, the hit of envy with it making it clear he didn't want to share my attention, even though he considered Solomon a friend too... But then his tail loosened and he helped me out of the tub, still a little red and muttering something under his breathe, but no longer simply pouting as if I was supposed to know. Now I just had to hope that Solomon wasn't going to be a vague shit today. I couldn't promise I wouldn't get snappy with him. [I was still figuring out how much to trust him with.]

"Who's there~" I called through the door as someone knocked, already knowing the answer. He was halfway through saying his name when I opened the door and grabbed his arm, pulling him in with a grin. I was glad he'd come as I'd asked, but there was a weird mix of energy hitting me and made me want to tease him a bit. "Get in here mage boy."

Solomon blinked for a moment at the sudden yank, but smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Mage boy?"

I just shrugged at him, I was gonna let him decide how to take that. His hand lingered on my arm even when I let go of him, following me as I plopped down on the giant beanbag, digging through the bag I'd brought up with me and trying to decide what to ask him about first. There was the letter in Latin (which I hadn't asked Satan about because I worried whether he'd be upset I'd hid something from Grisella from him or not), or the pendant that had that sigil I didn't recognize, or the spellbook itself. Maybe the letter? It might have an answer to the rest, I was pulling it out when Solomon sat down next to me, looking at my hands, and spoke.

"I heard you made another pact." He sounded somewhere between impressed and amused. I glanced up and nodded at him, smiling. "Satan this time, Asmodeus tells me."

"Yea!" I said. And the at the sound of the Avatar of Lust's name, I sat up, holding up the small notebook I'd copied the letter onto and the annoyance hit me from yesterday. "Which reminds me! He was under the impression that I was making all of my pacts through sex, apparently! Has Asmo been saying that?"

"You haven't been?"  Solomon blinked at me again. He looked surprised this time. Oh gods. Seriously?

"No! Levi! Please! Tell him!"  I rolled my eyes and looked over at Levi, who was bright red. And felt. Envy. Practically rolling off of him. But in a strange state because-- He was pouting and not looking over at me and it took a moment for him to say anything.

"Assumed you did with Asmo at least." He paused, and sounding slightly annoyed, added. "And would've explained why Mammon is so clingy with you-- And you stayed in Beel's room so long..."

"For fuck's sake!" I threw up my hands, starting to get pissed at this point. "Did none of you listen to my whole 'not getting involved' bullshit? Y'all are walking fucking thirst traps and I'm here keeping my hands to myself and somehow you're all. What? Thinking you're the exception to me sluttin' it up? Even Diavolo thought--" I cut off the sentence with a 'tsk', needing to take a moment to calm myself down.

"To be fair, Chris, you would be the very first human Asmo has made a pact with that he hasn't had sex with." Solomon's voice was calmly amused. I had still been looking at Levi and he nodded in agreement. And I turned to look at the other human, my cheeks pink and realized that he'd made the assumption based off experience. "Most demons expect you to indulge in their... Sin with them as a pact of the pact."

And the image of those two in bed together, naked as sin, sweaty, limbs all tangled, and -- And Asmo had been trying to share him with me the moment he thought I liked Solomon. And he went on about having standards and my cheeks were definitely getting warmer. I could feel the heat up to my scalp at this point. I looked back at Levi and well. At least his envy had eased a bit with the realization that I hadn't slept with Asmo, it seemed. Which that annoyed me a bit.

"Well, apparently none of my demons have been telling me this shit." None of them told me shit and I felt the hit of envy blossom through me at the fact that Solomon fucking knew all of this and I had pacts with now five demons and barely any knowledge. And Levi finally met my eyes at that, a little flash of colour sparking across his eyes that told me that he'd felt that. I sighed. "If it makes you feel any better Levi, if I change my mind, I'll let you know so you can decide if you wanna fuck too."

I was mostly being sarcastic with that because I didn't plan on having sex with any of them any time soon (the thing with Belphegor was a slip that I was not counting, especially since it might've been a dream). I didn't expect to feel the ease of envy so strongly. I knew he got very jealous about Asmo and thinking he was so much more attractive and all. It must be something to do with that? I sighed and turned my attention to Solomon again, keen on changing the subject, holding out the notebook to him.

"'Your demons'?" He teased me. Maybe it was bad phrasing. Especially since technically we shared one.  But that wasn't the point and he knew it. My glare must have been somewhat working, because he took the notebook from me with only a small chuckle, opening it up and skimming through the pages.

"Can you help me translate that?" I'd copied the letter, in a mish-mashed version, mixing in some sentences from some [benign] latin book I'd found in Satan's room that he'd agreed to let me borrow. I remembered what order the sentences I needed were in, and it probably wouldn't make sense, which was why I'd even decided on a cover. "I got it as--"

Before I could even finish, Solomon sighed, closer the notebook and lowering it to his lap, staring at me. He didn't look as amused as he usually did. "Where's the actual thing you want me to translate?"

He definitely sounded more annoyed this time. And I frowned back at him, considering what to tell him, I could continue with the lie, try to argue, push further, but I wanted to know and-- "I could probably figure it out, considering the dialects used here are all over the place, but that would mean sorting through the bits that are clearly there just to obfuscate the real message. Like this one that is just a series of subclauses..."

Clearly, that was a bad idea. I sighed, and reached into my bag to pull out the letter, the seal now broken, and handed it to him. He nodded, looking less annoyed at me for not having bothered trying to lie, and he hummed.

"So?" I asked him hopefully. He glanced up, turning it over to look at the seal.

"Who gave this to you?" He asked, his voice calm. I wanted to argue. That wasn't part of what we'd agreed on at all. He gave me a look that told me that there wasn't much point to that and I sighed.

"A witch named Grisella gave me a bag when I was up in London. That letter was in it, along with some other things. The rest of it looks like standard witchy stuff but the letter had my name..."

"Because it's addressed to you." He paused, and hummed again, glancing down at it. "Was she the seer that was fond of the brothers?"

I glanced at Levi, who was hanging over the edge of the tub now, trying to peek at the letter over Solomon's shoulder. He didn't seem worried about that information, so I simply nodded. Another thoughtful pause as he glanced down at it before he started reading.

"'I don't know how your magic was locked away. But I know ways of unlocking it. I do not know which one will be the key, but I have a feeling you'll enjoy some of them. Your greatest boon in all of these are those whose marks connect you.'" He paused and looked up at me thoughtfully, "The phrasing on that is a bit strange, because it's not 'the pacts you've made', but 'those whose marks connect you'. Which still means the pact marks, but..." He shrugged and read the rest. "'You will have to trust more. They will not leave --'"

I snatched the letter from Solomon. I didn't like the direction where that was going. He let me, though, watching me instead. I wanted to know what the rest said, but I was afraid to ask him. It had started veering into something I didn't want to explain to him. I sighed, stuffing it into the bag and pulling out the spellbook and the pendant.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the pendant, reaching out to cradle it carefully with one hand, letting me keep hold of the chain as he held it up to inspect it. I couldn't really read his expression, but the closest I would guess would be awe. Or maybe surprise?

I knew he'd recognize it. I just didn't know what it was and-- And he slipped the chain from my hands and was undoing the clasp and I started to reach out to take it back when -- "Turn around, let me put it on you."

I hesitated, nervous and not liking the idea of someone putting jewelry on me, but... But I did as he asked, holding my hair out of the way and trying to watch him out of the corner of my eye. "The note said this was for you. It's like a lesser version of my ring."

The ring -- the seal -- I froze, turning towards him a bit more as the metal touched my skin. I felt envy spike from Levi from where he sat in the tub, but I couldn't look over at him yet. "Your ring?"

"It was how I was able to form all my pacts. Verbal pacts like you've been doing work on the brothers because they have to honor them. But lesser demons... They have to rely on your power more. And the seal, and this, the lesser key, act as... Buffers I suppose. You don't have to feed them." He clasped the necklace and kept his hands on my neck for a moment, the touch making me shiver. I glanced over at Levi and he was watching. Still with that feeling I didn't know how to read [was he envious of Solomon or me?], before I turned back to Solomon, confused.

"Feed them?" I asked.

"On your soul. Duh. Lesser demons can get... Used up by a pact if they don't feed." It was Levi who answered, staring at the pendant. I turned towards him and held it up for a moment for him to see, letting it fall back down when he made no move to touch it. He did reach out to touch my chest next to the pendant when I let it lay, though. "That's why none of us mentioned the whole... Indulging thing."

He did turn a little pink at talking about indulging and his fingers brushed the pendant and his true form flickered over the guise like Satan's had when he'd touched the seal on my stomach, the touch of his claws causing me to shiver a little. He pulled back and looked a bit guilty, but I didn't address it. The last time I'd seen his true form had been when he'd tried to attack me, after all.

I glanced at Solomon. "You called it the lesser key?" He nodded.

"It's actually called a geotic circle, I don't know if it's the actual key itself, but it should let you perform some very rudimentary magic using some of the energy from your pacts." I frowned. That concerned me. I didn't want to use the guys' magic without permission.

"The energy from the pacts?" I asked him, glancing down at the pendant and rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger anxiously. "I don't want to take advantage of the guys or drain them or anything..."

He waved his hand in dismissal at the idea, shaking his head. And he started explaining it as best he could. Though it took a moment for me to understand since I had no base to work from. So he compared it to chemistry. The pact itself made energy that could be used for magic. Not a lot, with my powers locked away, but perhaps enough to unlock that power.

And Solomon seemed so excited about the idea. The hypotheticals seemed to pull in Levi enough to finally take an active part in the whole thing, making references to TSL and some of the anime I'd watched with him to help me understand what they were trying to tell me. We didn't even get to the spellbook, either. Simply the theory of it all for the next few hours.

Until Levi kicked us out so he could do his raid in peace. [I thanked him with a kiss on his head for that.] And Solomon left for the night for his own reasons, quickly jotting down the rest of Grisella's note for me to read to myself. [I didn't thank him for it, as I was far too embarrassed to do so.] But I was going to read it later. My hand drifted towards my stomach, making me wonder if the seal was the reason I'd been able to make the pacts at all.

[odinsonsobsessed]

Home For Christmas ▪Part Two▪

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rating: M

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Two years ago, in order for Maddie to stop her mom's nagging for her to settle down, she told her that her best friend, Tom Hiddleston, was her boyfriend! Now, she wants her to bring him home for Christmas, which Tom thankfully agrees to go along with. But what happens when their “pretend” feelings start to become real?

Notes/Warnings: Just fluff in this part!

Wow, you guys!! Thank you all for the lovely feedback. You have no idea how appreciative and excited I get when you guys let me know what you're thinking so far!

Beta'd by the lovely @mrshiddleston-uk

Master List

Maddie plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the cabin, with Tom following behind closely with their stuff. “Mom? Dad? We're here!” She called, closing the door behind Tom.

He set everything down on the floor as Maddie's parents came into the foyer to greet them.

“Maddie! Oh, it's so good to see you!” Her mom rushed toward her, throwing her arms around her. “I've missed you so much!” She pulled back to look at her, “Goodness, look at your hair, it's getting so long! Shows how long it's been since I've last seen you!”

Maddie wanted to cringe and she shared a look with Tom.

“Oh! And this must be Tim!” She glanced at Tom with a smile.

“It's Tom.” Maddie corrected her in annoyance.

Her mother shrugged her off and moved to hug Tom. “It's nice to finally meet you, dear! So glad you could make it this year.”

Maddie wanted to say something in response to her sarcastic tone, but she decided it wasn't worth it and held back to keep the peace. She didn't want to start an argument when they'd only just gotten there.

Her dad sent her an apologetic look before hugging her, “Good to see you, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair carefully like he usually did.

“My name is Marjorie, but you can call me Marge!” Marge giggled and turned to Maddie's father. “And this is my husband!”

“Wes.” He held out his hand and Tom took it firmly, shaking it while making eye contact.

Tom smiled politely. “It’s nice to finally meet you both, I've heard a lot about you.” Which was the truth, Maddie complained about them often. There wasn't a whole lot that Tom didn't know, save for the predicament she'd unthinkingly put herself in.

“All good things, I hope.” She winked at Maddie. They all heard a soft ‘ding’ coming from another room and Marge gasped. “Oh! I have dinner cooking. It's going to be ready soon! Wes, can you show them to their room?”

“Room? As in one?” Maddie’s eyes widened, “Wait, mom, I can just share with--”

“Oh, don’t be silly, dear! We're all adults here. Just make sure you keep it down.” She winked and turned, walking down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“Oh God.” Maddie’s cheeks flushed. “But mom, I--” Tom nudged Maddie and gave her a look. She quickly caught on and shut her mouth, letting her dad lead the way.

On the way to their room, a door opened as Maddie was passing it and two strong arms engulfed her into a hug. “I thought I heard voices!”

“You sure those aren't in your head?” Maddie giggled, throwing her arms around her brother. His chest vibrated with laughter before he let her go.

“I can't guarantee it.” He winked at her and glanced at Tom.

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Tom. Tom, this is my older brother, Scott.”

“Ah, the mysterious boyfriend, Tom. Glad to meet ya, man!” They shook hands and Scott held his gaze. “You look a little familiar, have we met before?”

Tom shook his head, “I don't believe so.”

“Scott, he lives in London.” She reminded him. “So, unless you've taken a trip to London without telling me--which would have been rude, by the way--then the two of you haven't met.”

Scott laughed, “You're right, you're right. But I just feel like I've seen him somewhere before. Anyway, I'll let you two settle and then we can catch up.” Scott started to walk down the hall. “It's great to see you, Axl.”

Maddie glared daggers at his back as he laughed, rounding the corner.

The three of them continued down the hall and Wes stopped in front of their room. “Alright, you two. You can put your stuff in here. Unpack, rest, whatever you need to do. But, please don't be late for dinner. 5:00 sharp.”

“I know, dad. We'll be there.”

“Oh, and don't forget to say hello to your sister.”

“Got it, dad!” Wes left the room so they could get settled.

“Axl?” Tom asked as soon as they were alone, setting Maddie's bag down on the bed.

Maddie's cheeks grew warm, “Just a stupid childhood nickname that Scott took upon himself to attach to me.” She opened the bag and began to take out her hygiene products, taking them into the adjoining bathroom.

“What does it mean?” He took out his clothes from the suitcase and put them into the dresser and hung one of the nice shirts he brought in the wardrobe.

“It's nothing!” She shouted from the bathroom.

“Come on, Maddie! You can tell me!” He unzipped his coat, taking it off and hanging it up.

“You absolutely cannot laugh.” Maddie returned to the room, taking her own coat off. She hung it up and took her clothes out of her suitcase and walked over the wardrobe. “It's so silly, but when I was a kid, my brother caught me rocking out to a Guns N Roses song with the head of a mop draped over my head and using the handle as a guitar.”

Tom gasped and she could hear him stifling his laughter.

Maddie ignored him, hanging up a dress next to his shirt. “Then he ran and told my parents, and I got in trouble for breaking the mop. But, not before taking a picture first. So, because my middle name is Rose… He calls me Axl every now and then.”

“Oh, I have to get my hands on that picture.” Tom grinned.

“Absolutely not! It's embarrassing!”

“Oh, come on!”

So for the next ten minutes they both playfully bickered while they put their stuff away. Maddie decided they should probably go talk to her sister before dinner.

Maddie linked her arm with Tom's, leading him into the den, where her sister was curled up on the couch, watching TV. “Hey Lizzie.”

Lizzie looked away from the TV and nearly jumped up out of her spot. “Maddie!” She rushed over, giving her a hug. “Its been so long!” Lizzie squeezed Maddie as tightly as she could before stepping back, running her hand down her hair. “Your hair is getting so long! And you've lost weight!”

Maddie giggled, “Just a little. But thank you. Lizzie, this is my boyfriend, Tom.”

Lizzie’s gaze wandered over to Tom and her eyebrows flew up in surprise. “This is Tom? The Tom?”

“Yes.”

“Tom Hiddleston is your boyfriend.” It came out more as a statement than a question.

“Yes, Lizzie. Tom Hiddleston… is my boyfriend.” Maddie had said the words a million times in preparation for this weekend, but it still sounded weird when she said it.

“Wow. It's true what they say. He's much taller in person. And so handsome.”

Tom put his hand on his chest, his cheeks turning a slight pink and laughed, “Well, thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lizzie.”

“Likewise.” She grinned, looking him up and down. “You should have seen some of the boys she used to bring home.”

Tom's eyebrows rose, “Oh?” Then he glanced at Maddie.

“Lizzie!” Maddie couldn't believe how much her family was embarrassing her and they hadn't even been there thirty minutes. If Tom was really her boyfriend, they would have ran him off by now.

“Oh, yeah. One Christmas she brought home this guy, he was--” She giggled, “--An absolute brute. I mean I'm talking the gang type--” She was cut off by Maddie's hand closing over her mouth.

“Alright, alright. He doesn't need to hear about Nick. And he was most certainly not in a gang!” She released Lizzie and took Tom by the arm, “I'm going to give him the tour.” She sent her a look and began to lead him out of the room.

Maddie took him around the house while they waited for dinner, showed him the backyard and the beautiful wooded area surrounding the cabin. They couldn't see as much since it was nearly dark already, but she promised to show him when she got the chance.

Dinner started promptly at 5:00. Everyone sat down and Marge looked at all the food with a grin, seemingly proud of the food she'd just prepared.

Once everyone had filled their plate with the food they wanted, Marge, of course, had questions. “So, Tom! Since Maddie doesn't really like to share a lot of details about the… happenings, in her life, I was hoping you could indulge me by answering a few questions.”

“A few. Right.” Maddie muttered under her breath before taking a bite of her food.

“Ah, sure.” Tom smiled at her, awaiting her first question.

“Where did you two first meet?”

Tom chuckled as he recalled the memory. “We met at a coffee shop, as cliche as that sounds. Maddie sounded like she was having a bit of a rough morning and I offered to buy her a coffee.”

Maddie smiled down at the table, remembering that morning. The credit card machine was down and she'd used the last bit of cash she had on the cup of coffee that dripped down her shirt as she clumsily tried to carry all of the belongings she'd brought with her.

Tom saw the whole thing and felt bad for her, so he bought her a coffee. When she asked how to repay him, he told her to sit down with him. Maddie didn't know who he was at the time, so he enjoyed the natural conversation, rather than a nervous or hyper fan girl. They found they'd had a lot in common and that was it, they’d been friends ever since.

Lizzie smiled, “Oh, how sweet! What a gentleman! Was it love at first sight?” She sighed.

“I would say so. For me, anyway.” Tom glanced at Maddie with an amused smile. “I've never told her this, but I actually tried to ask her out that day. Twice.”

Lizzie laughed, “I'm honestly not surprised. She's always been bad at that sort of thing.”

Maddie frowned, her cheeks reddening. “I have not!”

“Do you know how many times--”

“So, what do you do, Tom?” Marge took a sip of her wine, ignoring the bantering siblings.

Maddie’s heart raced. There it was. The question she'd been dreading. She could practically hear her mother’s reaction already.

“I'm an actor.”

“An actor? Oh.” Marge didn't make much effort to hide her disappointment. “Well… What kinds of movies have you been in?”

“Mom.” Lizzie whisper yelled across the table as if no one else could hear her. When Marge made eye contact with her, Lizzie mouthed, “Loki.”

Marge nodded in understanding.

“Loki?” Scott’s eyes widened. “Oh! No wonder I thought you looked familiar! Great work, man. Really. Loki's pretty badass.” Scott grinned and Tom smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Oh boy, here we go. See why I didn't want to tell them?” Maddie leaned over and muttered towards Tom.

Tom chuckled as he cut off a piece of chicken on his plate.

“Although, I didn't realize Lizzie would recognize you.” Maddie shook her head, taking a bite of her potatoes.

“It's okay, really.” He grinned and Maddie knew he was enjoying it.

So for the rest of the dinner, Marge wasn't able to get another word in between Scott and Lizzie. They raved over the two Marvel movies he'd been in and he answered every question they had that he could.

After dinner, they all sat in the living room and Maddie was thankful when Scott suggested that they watch a movie. She was really tired from traveling and she didn't think she could get through much more of her mom's questions and hearing the gossip about the family that she missed from Thanksgiving.

Maddie mouthed a ‘Thank you’ to him and settled on the couch next to Tom. He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer.

She thought about it for a moment, sneaking a peek at him before sliding her arm across his stomach and resting her head against him. “Well, this is nice and comfy. We should do this more often.” Tom teased in a whisper, earning him a light smack on his side and quiet giggle from Maddie.

They hadn't gotten halfway through the movie before Tom looked over to see Maddie fast asleep. He felt her chest rising and falling against his side and he carefully reached to stroke the hair from her face.

He thought about waking her, but he noticed didn't get a lot of sleep in the plane, and she insisted on staying awake to keep him company on the drive over. So, he watched the rest of the movie and when the credits rolled, he gently shook her.

“Hmm?” Maddie mumbled, blinking her eyes open. “Did I fall asleep?”

Tom chuckled, “Yes darling, it's over now. We should go to bed.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, half asleep. She drew her arm back from him and sat up, yawning.

They said their good nights and headed to the bedroom. Maddie grew nervous as they drew closer and closer to the room. She was going to have to sleep next to him, which she'd never done before. Sure, they'd fallen asleep on the couch a handful of times but never in a bed.

Maddie went to change in the bathroom while Tom changed in the bedroom. When she came out, Tom was drawing back the covers. He was wearing gray sweatpants that did hardly anything to conceal the prominent bulge nestled between his legs. He didn't appear to be wearing anything underneath them and he was so very shirtless.

Maddie stood in the doorway, watching him. The way his muscles rolled when his arms moved, the way his fingers grasped at the sheets and smoothed them out when he laid them back. Her eyes trailed down his chest, towards his stomach. They followed the happy trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband.

Maddie bit her lip. She couldn't deny how attractive he was. Hell, what she wouldn't give to run her hands along every inch of that body. To feel every curve of flesh with her hands and her tongue, to hear all of the sounds she could drag out of him. But, she couldn't. He wasn't actually hers. He was borrowed. And if she tried anything, she feared it would ruin things. Which is why she never pursued him when they first met. She would rather just be friends than to possibly lose him. He was one of the best things that had ever happened to Maddie.

So, she buried her feelings, to protect herself from getting hurt. Would being with Tom so closely for the next few days unbury them?

Tom straightened himself up and looked at her with a smile. “Are you ready, darling?”

Maddie shifted her weight onto her other foot, “Yes, but…”

Tom sensed her hesitation and looked down, “Is it because I'm not wearing a shirt?” He looked back up, “Sorry, I usually don't wear one to bed. Want me to put one on?”

“Erm… no, that's alright.” She padded over to the laundry basket sitting by the door and dumped her dirty clothes into it before walking over to the dresser to take off her necklace.

She fumbled with the clasp and cursed before Tom walked over. “Here, let me help you.” As soon as his warm hands touched the nape of her neck, she fought the shiver itching to run up her spine.

“Oh, by the way, what you said earlier… about love at first sight and the whole ‘I asked her out but she didn't pick up on it’ was brilliant! They ate that right up.”

He unclasped the necklace and brought his hands around and above her head. “That bit was true, actually.”

“What?” Maddie whirled around, “You mean--” The motion of her suddenly turning so quickly made her accidentally press against him. Her hands landed on his chest and once she realized, she immediately stepped back. Her heart was beating harshly in her chest and she internally fought with herself to calm down.

“Yeah, the part where I tried asking you out a couple of times when we first met.” Tom laughed through his nose. “It actually happened.”

“I um…” She tried to slow her thoughts so she could come up with a proper response. If he'd wanted to ask her out, did that mean that he still…?

Tom quickly spoke when she didn't say anything. “But it's alright, that was years ago and I'm really glad we're friends now.” He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable and he mentally cursed at himself for even saying anything.

Maddie gave him a half smile. “Me too.” They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Tom motioned to the bed.

“Shall we um…”

“Yeah.” Maddie quickly brushed passed him, her cheeks flushing as she got into bed. She suddenly became very unsure of which way to lay. Maddie was a side sleeper, so laying on her back wasn't an option. So at first, she faced outward. When she felt the bed dip behind her and heard the rustling of the covers, she turned over, fearing she was being rude?

Then she felt incredibly silly when she saw his back. After a minute, she went to turn back over, but Tom moved to face her.

“Maddie.”

She swallowed, freezing on her back and moved her head to look at him. “Yeah, Tom?”

“If this is uncomfortable for you, I can sleep on the floor, or sleep in that chair over there.”

Maddie shook her head. “No, you're not sleeping on the floor. Or in a chair. I-I'm alright. Just trying to get comfortable.” She turned back over to face him.

“Relax, darling. I'm not going to bite…” He smirked, “Unless you want me to.”

Maddie smacked Tom’s chest, earning a laugh from him.

“I'll take that as a ‘no’. Good night, Maddie.”

She giggled, “Good night, Tom.” Maddie closed her eyes and all she could think about was her hand and the fact that she'd touched his bare chest twice in five minutes. Oh and the fact that that bare chest was currently only two feet from her, and it was going to be… all night.

Man, this was going to be one very long weekend.

Part Three -->>

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[missmarquin]

Magnetic, Ch. 1

In the future, romantic attraction is literal: each person is fitted with an electromagnetic bracelet which will pull you to your soulmate. It's hard, wondering who's out there for you. It's harder yet, when you have to come to understand yourself first.

Read on A03, for best quality (Including proper italics and such!)

Domain

‘A magnetic domain is a region within magnetic material in which the magnetization is uniform in one direction.’

Eighteen was a big year for many, but turning twenty is what people truly waited for.

Otabek had never really given it much thought, he supposed. Amita might not have been his initial choice of who he’d want to spend his life with forever, but she had since grown on him-- not unlike a fungus. She was sharp and quick-witted, and he had to admit that his parents had made a good choice. Really, they had. He and Amita just worked together, their relationship didn’t require much effort.

So the ceremonious receiving of the Destiny Bracelet wasn’t so ceremonious for him. He didn’t want to fuck up something that was good for him.

“It’s such a stupid fucking name,” Yuri said through the phone screen. Amita rolled her eyes, as she held the phone out, and Otabek smirked back at the video feed. “ Destiny Bracelet . What is this, some shitty fucking rom-com?”

“Hey now,” Amita pouted, leaning around so Yuri could see her through the screen. “ Some people like shitty rom-coms.”

“I guess you’re allowed to,” Yuri said with a genuine smile. “You’re special though.”

Really, Otabek’s luck couldn’t be better. Yuri was the most important person in the world to him, at the end of things, and he fucking lovedAmita. They were practically partners-in-crime themselves.

“What’s the point anyhow?” Yuri continued griping. “ It’s not like you aren’t getting married regardless. You and Amita are stupidly in love.”

Otabek and Amita shared an amused glance, and he said, “Why not? It’s not like it’s going to hurt me, you know? Besides, Mom is curious.” Not his mom, just Mom, the woman who had seen Yuri once before instantly adopting him as her own. Much to the boy’s aggravation.

Yuri snorted, rolling his eyes. Otabek wasn’t sure that he was stupidly in love with Amita, but he was happy and honestly, that was more than he could ask for. There was a mild fear that the bracelet would want to pull him somewhere else, but many people ignored it anyway. The journey of finding that soulmate wasn’t worth it to some.

Otabek was okay with that. He wasn’t the kind for grand romantic gestures or sweeping adventures. It was less work to stay in his tidy little bubble, and it suited him.

“Are we all ready in here?” A voice piped from the doorway. Everyone turned to meet a middle-aged man, the proctor in charge of attaching and turning on the gizmo. Otabek nodded and he whisked into the room, settling into the rolling stool beside the bed.

“I was I could be there for this,” Yuri muttered. “I wish I could see the annoyance on your face, the moment that bracelet beeps.”

Such a Yuri thing to say and do, to take pleasure in the vexation of others.

“Someone has rehearsal to be at, you know,” Amita chided. “Someone scored a spot in the Bolshoi Ballet Company, so that someone needs to stay put and not burn bridges before they are even built.”

Yuri sighed and Otabek hid a smile behind a carefully placed cough. Yuri wouldn’t listen to him, but he would always listen to her, begrudging as it was.

“Hold out your arm now,” the proctor interrupted cheerfully. Otabek did as he was told and the man fitted a length of cool metal around his wrist. It wasn’t his first time seeing one and it wouldn’t be his last, but he was always surprised by how boring it looked. Just a simple chain of lightweight links, fitted with neat and elegant looking square. The way it worked was a carefully guarded secret, but it worked and that’s all people cared about.

The point of the Destiny Bracelet was to make people happy, not make money and so, the world-wide program had been adopted free of charge. Yuri had always said it was stupid, because it could have made billions. He wasn’t wrong.

“As you probably already know, there’s nothing really needed to know about it’s use,” the proctor said. “It’s waterproof and practically indestructible, so you don’t need to worry about that. It can easily be removed if so wished, and once put back on, instantly kicks into gear again. No fancy buttons or doohickies,” he finished with a laugh. “You ready?”

Otabek shrugged and the man took a thin little tool, about the size of a paperclip, and shoved it into the pin-sized hole on the square. The bracelet beeped, indicating that it was scanning.

The room waited with bated breath, but nothing seemed to happen.

“Beks?” Amita said gently, curiosity full on her face. “Anything?”

“Uh,” Otabek started, lifting his wrist slightly. “No? I don’t think?”

The proctor didn’t seem fazed though, asking, “No tingling sensations? No feeling of being tugged a certain direction?”

“No,” Otabek confirmed. “Nothing.”

“Well, that’s not unusual,” the man said. “It only comes to life if your partner’s bracelet is active. Give it some time and it will start to work, I promise.” He folded his hands into his lap neatly. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” Yuri said from the video call, “Who’s placing bets on when that fucking happens?”

Otabek shot Yuri a glare, but Amita burst into laughter. The proctor smiled, before standing and handing Otabek a flyer. “This should give you more in depth information, but don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

Otabek nodded and thanked him, before standing himself.

“Three months till your woman gets hers,” Yuri drawled, “Ten thousand rubles that hers lights up like a damn Christmas Tree in your direction.”

The thought of Amita’s bracelet reacting to his own was a nice thought, but a one-in-a-million chance. Otabek remained hesitant about it, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“We don’t use rubles,” Amita tittered, her lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “What’s that about in tenge, Otabek?”

“About fifty-six thousand,” he deadpanned, and half Yuri’s monthly salary. Amita pressed her finger to her chin in thought.

“I’ll accept the bet and raise it, Yuri,” she finally said, a gleam in her eye. “One hundred thousand tenge that his bracelet doesn’t do jack shit when mine is activated.” Amita came from old money and didn’t bat an eye at the outrageous amount.

Otabek started slightly at that, but Yuri was already accepting the challenge before he could process that she had bet against them.

“You’re on, you hag,” Yuri snapped. “It’s pretty fucked up to bet against your own romance though.”

“Plenty of people don’t go searching for their soulmate, Yuri,” she said with a shrug. “Many people already love someone else and stick with them. Otabek and I are no different.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Amita when she said it, but the both of them weren’t the kind to throw around something like lovelightheartedly. When they walked out of the building though, Amita’s hand reached out to find his, squeezing gently as they told Yuri goodbye.

It’s enough to believe that this might actually work.

It wasn’t.

Otabek didn’t know what was wrong with him when he finally came to that conclusion.

The more and more he thought about the silent bracelet on his wrist, the more he realized that he would be okay with it staying that way for the rest of his life. And that he would be a-okay with Amita wandering off and finding her own destined one.

Because honestly, the woman deserved it. She deserved more than a half-hearted romance with a man who just liked her. Like wasn’t the same as love. Otabek understood that now.

“Relationships are fucking useless,” Yuri groaned over the video call.

“I take it that the date didn’t go well then,” Otabek mused.

“It was great, until he tried to eat my face off like some sort of rabid dog. ” Yuri paused to make a disgusted sound. “You know, that was the first time I’ve kissed a dude and honestly I feel sorry for women. Men are disgusting.”

Otabek wasn’t sure what surprised him more-- that Yuri’s first kiss had apparently been with a woman, or that he had admitted that men were gross. “You told me he was gross before you went on the date,” he pointed out.

“Personality wise yes,” Yuri replied, “but Beka, have you seen his fucking calves?”

“Yes,” Otabek said. Yuri had shown him tons of pictures of the company, all the while complaining about every single member.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You know, ignore that, it’s not like you’d ever fucking agree.”

It came out harsher than he meant, and Otabek mused at the irony of his statement. Otabek wouldn’t consider himself gay, but Yuri never failed to get under his skin when the time accounted for it. That moment wasn’t an exception, with his low-scooping neckline and hair falling around his face like spun gold.

Otabek promptly reminded himself that what he had with Amita was good enough, and not worth risking the only fucking friendship he had.

“So,” Yuri drawled and Otabek’s attention snapped back to him. “Less than a week until Amita get’s her little bracelet.”

Otabek smirked. “Regretting your bet yet?”

“Absolutely the fuck not. Everyone knows you two are disgustingly perfect. You’re almost as bad as the Piggy and Old Man.”

Otabek seriously doubted that, but laughed all the same.

“Are you worried?” Yuri asked.

“Not really,” Otabek said with a shrug.

“What if it’s not you?”

Otabek hesitated, but then said, “Not a problem. Like Amita said, many people stay with those they aren’t meant for. It’s not a bad thing.”

Yuri was quiet for a moment, regarding him carefully through the screen. Finally, he said, “You aren’t the type to do things half-way, Beka.”

It wasn’t a critique, it was the honest truth, and for once he didn’t know how to reply. But as soon as introspective Yuri had shown his face, he was gone, throwing out a dirty joke that he had heard from one of the pit musicians.  

After a long time of tossing jokes around and swapping stories, their call comes to its end. Yuri was clearly tired, eyelids drooping as he tucked into the hoodie that he stole from Otabek years ago.

Yuri had said his goodnight, about to end the call, when Otabek said something else.

“Would it make me a terrible person if I wanted her bracelet to point to someone else?” It wasn’t a planned question, or something he would have ever asked Yuri. His friend blinked slowly, his hand hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. “I wonder,” Otabek continued, “if I’m a horrible person because I might want to pull away.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Yuri finally said. “It makes you normal. Everyone questions their relationships. Sometimes people are constantly questioning them.” He paused and considered something else. “You’re lucky though, I think. Amita seems the kind of woman tough enough to handle rejection in the end. She’d slap a smile on her face and thank you.”

Yuri wasn’t wrong, and despite his heavy-handed worries, Otabek managed another smile before they ended the call for the night.

Otabek couldn’t dedicate time to be there, when Amita’s bracelet was activated. She came from old money, and despite working, she worked for her parents. They showered her with all the vacation and time off she could have ever wanted.

It wasn’t like Otabek’s family weren’t well of either-- that’s how they had met-- but he didn’t like to dip his hand into the cookie jar so to speak. He worked hard for his coin, and as a result had less leeway.

So that night, he had been in his garage, fixing up a vintage bike for a collector. It was dirty work, leaving him smeared with grease, but he loved it. The feel of the tools in his hand, the way that the engine whined when finely tuned to perfection.

Really, it was all could have ever asked for.

“I take it that it’s been a good day for you, Beks,” Amita said, stepping into his space quietly.

He swiped at his forehead and turned to smile at her, but she seemed distant and subdued. Slowly he dropped his hand, as he regarded her.

Amita fidgeted, she never fidgeted, and Otabek couldn’t help the crease that stretched across his forehead as he moved to speak. But she held her hand out and paused. And he saw the bracelet there, blinking gently in the dim light.

His didn’t blink at all, because it had no call.

She saw his gaze and moved her hand self-consciously, tucking her hair behind an ear. “It’s not strong,” she said, “the pull. Whoever it is isn’t close by. I’m not surprised though.”

“I-- I’m not either,” Otabek replied, but the words didn’t sound bitter. Nor was there dread in the pit of his stomach. If he had to be honest, he felt relieved.

Amita leaned against his workbench. “I know what we told Yuri, but--”

“But it’s not right,” Otabek finished, knowing that’s where she was going with this. He stood, wiping his dirtied hands on a spare rag in his pocket. He moved to lean next to her and she smiled sadly.

“It’s stupid, right? I mean, I want to marry you.”

“I would like that too,” Otabek said truthfully.

“But it isn’t… it’s not right,” she repeated. “I can’t really describe it any other way.” She sighed softly. “I couldn’t deny whoever your soulmate is, you, Otabek.”

He snorted at that. “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed to be alone, Amita,” he replied lightheartedly. And that was probably the truth. Most bracelets activated within several months, and the longer it took, the less likely it ever would. He was past the point of holding his breath.

She turned to look at him, her eyes flashing. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Otabek rubbed at his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I’m just not the kind of person who does people, you know? I’ve been thinking more and more about it lately, and I think that the single lifestyle would suit me.”

Amita regarded him quietly, tapping her finger against her chin like she always did when she thought. “I think the problem Beks,” she finally said, “is that you just haven’t found your person yet. I would love to be them, but… it’s not fair.”

“Yeah, it’s not fair to you--”

“ To you,” she interrupted. Otabek blinked at her words, her conviction. “You deserve happiness as much as anyone else,” she said firmly.

Otabek breathed an uneasy sigh, rubbing at his neck again. “I’m not holding my breath, you know,” he finally said.

At that, she laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you too. Above all Otabek, you are practical.”

He managed a smile at that. “What will you do, then? Go after him?” He took her hand gently, pulling it closer to see the bracelet. All it did was blink, signaling that it was on.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure my parents would be happy. They love you.”

“They love you more,” he pointed out.

She hummed at that, before reaching up and cupping his chin in her hand. “I’ll always love you,” she said quietly. “Despite what this bracelet says, or yours, I’ll always love you. I’m just not the one meant for you, I think.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his brow sweetly. “Who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you think?” She smirked widely as she pulled back and let him go.

Otabek could think of one person that he wouldn’t mind, but those odds were heavily stacked against him. And he wasn’t the kind to dream.

Still, when she left him behind in his shop, his heart didn’t feel heavy. He thanked Amita for her unwavering friendship, knowing that he’d have it forever.

The first year after the break up had been weird.

Amita had decided to go West in the end, following the tug of her bracelet. Otabek had seen her off personally, hugging her tightly at the airport. They parted well, with light hearts and encouraging words. Otabek knew that they had made the right decision, no matter how disappointed their parents had been.

In turn, being alone had given him time to think.

The single life wasn’t so bad, he thought. Amita’s words about how he hadn’t found his someone yet floated around here and there, but he had chosen to mostly ignore them. It was easier worrying about himself, and devoting the time to come to understanding who he was.

Yuri told him that he was stupid, but didn’t press the issue.

The second year was better. The second year, Otabek discovered himself, exploring his freedom. He finally used that vacation time and savings, and hit the open roads on his bike. Not too far though gone, because he never missed his nightly calls with Yuri.

Yuri threw himself into ballet, constantly tired and bruised. And when he wasn’t punishing his body with grueling training regimes, he threw himself into shitty date after shitty date. No one seemed to stick, not that Otabek was surprised. Yuri was as prickly as a summer cactus, and his personality wasn’t much better. Not everyone could handle the abrasive man.

“A huge part of me doesn’t want to get the stupid bracelet, Beka,” Yuri complained one night during their call. His twentieth birthday was looming over them and in a few weeks, he’d know.

“You don’t have to get the bracelet, you know,” Otabek said, leaning back against his headboard. It was a late night and both of them were settling for bed.

Yuri sighed, sitting on his tony mattress with crossed legs. That night he wore baggy sweatpants and a wide-necked black shirt that showed off his collarbones--

Otabek distracted himself by taking a sip from the water cup on his side table.

“I thought about it, actually,” Yuri said. “But then you know, I also keep dating assholes, so clearly my method isn’t working out.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t date assholes then,” he chided, smiling.

Yuri rolled his eyes, before falling back against the bed. “How do you do it?” he asked. “How do you just… do your own thing?”

Otabek thought before he answered. “It’s taken time and a lot of thought,” he finally said. “And of course, Amita pushed me, I guess.”

“A cross-country trip to discover yourself doesn’t hurt either,” Yuri teased, and when Otabek looked back at him through the screen, he saw the smirk across his lips. Otabek smiled right back.

“I’ve thought about taking it off,” Otabek continued with, flicking at the metal on his wrist. Nearly three years later and it was still dead as a door nail. Frankly, Otabek had lost interest in waiting. “My soulmate doesn’t define me, you know?”

Yuri hummed quietly. “Don’t,” he finally said. “I mean, at least wait until it turns on, yeah?”

“It probably won’t, Yura,” Otabek sighed. “Studies show that most activate within the first year. I’m probably the rare case of never activates at all . And honestly, I’m cool with it.”

“Well I’m not,” Yuri scoffed. “You can’t tell me that someone doesn’t get Otabek Altin as a fucking soulmate, I won’t take it. You’re too cool to go it alone.”

“You literally said that you admire that about me.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re deserving.”

Otabek ran a hand through his hair gently. “You aren’t like me, Yura,” he finally said. “Even though you don’t like people, you crave their attention. You’d never be okay on your own.”

“I wouldn’t be alone though,” Yuri replied quietly. “I’ll always have you, you know.”

Otabek did know, and he smiled. “It’s taken me a long time to get to where I am, but I’m good now. Give yourself a chance too, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. There was a short pause, and then, “Do yourself a favor Beka. Don’t you take yours off either, okay?”

Otabek’s lips quirked into a smile. “Okay.”

“It’s a promise?”

“Always, Yura.”

Despite all of Otabek’s annoyance for his own bracelet, he was excited for Yuri.

He watched through the screen as Yuri sat on the exam table, twitching with apprehension. The phone must have been propped up against something.  “It’s stupid,” he snapped. “I should be at rehearsal, I should be running through forms, hell I’d rather be doing fucking squats.”

Otabek smiled at that. “It’s not the end of the world, Yura,” he said amused. “A few years ago, you were excited .”

“Yeah, until I realized what a drag dating is, and how disgusting men are.” He paused then, his face twisting into horror. “Beka, what if my soulmate is a woman? My life would be over!”

“It could be worse, you know,” he joked. “It could not work at all.” He raised his own wrist in response.

Yuri scowled at him, about to retort when the proctor came in. When requested to, Yuri stuck his arm out, the smooth skin pale against his dark shirt. Otabek watched as the man slipped the chain around his wrist, snapping it closed. And then the tool came out.

Yuri looked hesitant, but his eyes were bright as the man activated the bracelet.

But then they both fell quiet, watching. And then there was a little beep and Yuri’s bracelet blinked. He regarded it with an odd look.

“You know, I wish Amita were watching. I bet her smug ass would have enjoyed this.”

Before Otabek could retort though, there was another beep, this time not through the phone call. He froze and looked down, right as his bracelet flared to life.