#some of the colours came out weird on the scan…. BUT. it has grown on me… and I’m brave.. so I’m posting….. 🫂

[kellyscabin]

the widower

acrylic on canvas / view in HD

[karatekels]

TIGmas Day #8 – What You Do To Me

Today’s request is for @iliketoboopacat, who has requested KK3 Terry doing what only Mr. Silver can: overwhelming Reader with adoration that crosses over into sweet, sweet torture. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You and Terry have been together for quite awhile now and he is crazy about you. Before he can tell you that he loves you, he decides to test your loyalty by seeing how you respond to another man trying to seduce you at a gala. Once you pass his test with flying colours, he sneaks away with you to confess his love, and shows you just what it’s like to have his full devotion…

TW: Deception; unhealthy relationships; dirty talk; edging; overstimulation; degradation kink; crying kink; praise kink; fingering (vaginal); graphic sex;

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What You Do To Me

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Reader’s POV:

The interior of the Ennis House had been transformed into a thing of pure fantasy, and you had been decorated along with it. DynaTox’s annual Christmas party was being hosted at its CEO’s home for the first time, an uncharacteristically vulnerable choice that let the employees and their guests have a glimpse into the life of the man himself. One would almost think that as they stepped over the threshold into the house that they had been transported from California to the mountains of Colorado, fake snow mounded around the bases of real pines. An honest-to-goodness ice rink had been constructed in the Grand Ballroom, the waitstaff skating amongst the guests with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres in hand.

Despite all of this revelry, there’s only one thing on your mind.

Where’s Terry?

This is the first elite party you’ve attended where you are also playing the hostess. You had anticipated that Terry, who normally kept you glued to his side constantly, would be even more insistent to have you with him – the two of you had been together for long enough now to be considered serious, and he had made clear his intentions to get you used to being in his circles.

But now, when you needed him around, he was nowhere to be found. You ordinarily felt a bit at sea when you weren’t by his side, especially at lavish events like these, but now that you were in a way responsible for the event you feel like you’re outright drowning. Servers, caterers, and security had all come to you for directions, and you have been doing your best to guide them, hoping that everything would go off without a hitch. So far, it had.

“Excuse me, Y/N L/N?” comes a voice from behind you, and you turn, bracing yourself to put out yet another fire.

Instead you find Michael Nelson, the star quarterback from your high school days. He seems to have grown nicely into adulthood and success, judging by the way his expensive suit fits his strong build. Was this some sort of a weird dream?

Michael had been the first man you had fallen for – but then, all the girls had fallen for him back in the day. But you had been friends and neighbours growing up, you knew each other.

You’d thought you’d had a chance with him, but the opportunity never came.

It had taken you quite awhile to get over your infatuation, and looking at him now you still have those childish butterflies in your belly. The man was the epitome of the one who got away, after all.

“Michael Nelson!?” you say his name with incredulity. What was he doing here, anyway? He didn’t work for DynaTox, not that you knew of anyway.

“You remember me!” he exclaims, giving you a warm smile that would’ve made you melt back in school. Instead, it has you worrying about Terry taking this moment to appear – he doesn’t appreciate other men chatting you up.

“Of course I do, Michael,” you reply distractedly, scanning the ballroom for Terry. “How have you been?” Your brain doesn’t even register his response, letting him talk to himself as you try to find a way out of the conversation.

“Y/N?” he asks, trying to reclaim your attention. Your eyes reluctantly slide back over to his; you don’t want to be rude to him, after all.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you ask, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I said that I’m glad I ran into you; it’s been awhile. And you look wonderful tonight.”

His eyes roam across your expensive, form-fitting velvet dress, and you’re grateful that you elected to wear this one with the turtleneck rather than a lower cut neckline as his eyes linger on your chest.

“Thank you, Michael. So do you.” You return the compliment with a complete lack of enthusiasm, and he pretends not to recognize it, sensing that you’re going to try to leave the conversation.

“Can I get you a drink?” He cuts in eagerly, head inclined down towards yours as though he was trying to hypnotize you into accepting. “I would love to catch up and hear about what you’ve been up to since we last saw each other.”

“I’m sorry, I actually need to go tend to a few things. I’m one of the people in charge of this circus! It was… nice running into you.”

You turn and walk away from him without another word, your eyes now scanning the party not just for Terry but for anyone you recognized who would be able to keep Michael at bay. Miraculously your eyes land on Margaret, and you make a beeline for the older woman trying not to look too desperate.

“Is everything alright, Miss L/N?” she asks as you approach, taking in your panicked expression.

“Have you seen Terry? I can’t find him anywhere!” You’re doing your best to appear at least somewhat poised, not wanting to look too pathetic – you couldn’t expect Terry to solve all of your problems for you, after all. He already did so much…

“Mr. Silver had an important matter come up that he needed to attend to. He’ll rejoin the party when he’s finished.”

You bite back the small pout you feel start to twist your lips; you hate being at these sorts of events without him, but to be partly responsible for making sure things ran smoothly in his absence is an entirely different level of overwhelming.

“What are we going to do? The staff keep coming up to me for instructions, and I don’t know what to tell them!” you ask, your brows knitting together. Margaret lifts an eyebrow at you.

“I will handle any issues that arise, Miss L/N. Mr. Silver rarely troubles himself with organizing the events he plays host to. You should enjoy your evening,” she suggests firmly, dismissing you without another word as she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. You briefly look around for anyone else you recognize that you could start a conversation with but give up after a moment, needing to just get away from everything now that you know you aren’t needed to help the evening go smoothly.

You make your way out onto one of the small terraces that lined the property of the Ennis House, trying to keep to the shadows as you take a minute to yourself. You know that it’s silly, feeling disappointed – Terry was an incredibly successful and important man, and the party had plenty to offer by way of distraction. But you find that you don’t want to enjoy yourself without him there beside you; you always wanted to share everything with him.

The breeze is lovely, but the relative quiet is what you find really refreshing. You take another deep breath of air, bracing yourself to re-enter the party. Hopefully Terry wouldn’t be too long, and when he returned he could see you having fun and fitting into his world the way that you so desperately want to.

“I never knew you to be the type of woman who liked to play hard to get, Y/N.”

Michael’s voice is harsh and quiet as he joins you out on the dark terrace, sending a shiver down your spine. You whirl around in surprise, not having heard his approach, and notice that he is already trying to herd you into the dark corner of the balcony, keeping himself between you and the door heading inside to prevent your escape.

“I’m not playing anything, Michael,” you snap back at him, offended by the insinuation. You don’t remember him being nearly so egotistical back in school.

“Yeah? I thought you said you had to go help with the party but here you are, sneaking away from everyone like you didn’t know I was watching.”

You suppress a shudder. “I didn’t know you were watching. I hoped you weren’t,” you snap at him defiantly, stepping back until your legs hit the balustrade surrounding the porch. Michael keeps coming towards you, increasing his pace as his confidence grows.

“Don’t act so naïve. You’ve been in love with me for years, and everyone knows it. Let’s finally give us a chance, Y/N,” he purrs as he cages you in against the balcony. Gathering your nerve, you give his chest a firm shove until he takes a few steps back from you.

“I’m not interested, Michael; I’m with someone.”

“And what, they’re worried about a little competition? So worried that they’ve left you all alone tonight?”

“There’s no competition to be had! I’m dating Terry Silver; I’m already his.”

He seems briefly taken aback at the news that the man you’re with is the CEO of the company but quickly recovers, his nose crinkling with distaste.

“You’re his?” he echoes you in disbelief. “You’re talking about your relationship like you’re his property!”

You roll your eyes; clearly he wasn’t very familiar with the man that owned his job. That, or he hadn’t considered that the level of devotion you and Terry had for one another was a two-way street – you know that you’re crazy about one another.

“We belong to each other, Michael, and there’s nothing that you or anyone else can do to change that. Now, if you want to keep your dignity and your job intact, I’d recommend leaving, or at least getting the hell away from me,” you hiss, a fire blazing in your eyes.

“B-But Y/N, I –” Michael starts to stammer, but you’ve had enough.

“Leave. Now. Terry doesn’t take well to those who try to steal from him.”

You’re not entirely sure where this fury is coming from, but the thought of someone trying to come between you and the man you love has you absolutely fuming. And you do love Terry, even if you haven’t told him yet.

You have to go and find him, you realize with a sudden urgency as your heart clenches with need. Paying Michael no mind, you move past him and back into the ballroom, determined to find your love.

Terry’s POV:

Terry could not be more pleased with your performance so far this evening. He’s been stealthily following you all evening, either from hidden alcoves or security cameras, unbeknownst to you and the guests. Hosting the annual Christmas party at the Ennis House enabled him to observe you when left to your own devices. Hell, the whole reason he was having this party was to see how you would behave when pursued by another man, especially one he knew you had once held feelings for.

And why has he chosen to test you in this manner?

Because he has come to the conclusion that he is in love with you. Once he had come to that realization, it was as though a switch had been flipped. He now knew without a shadow of a doubt that you are the one he’s going to spend his life with.

But before he can tell you, he needs to make sure that you are just as infatuated with him in order to commit to you fully.

His plans had been elaborate, and had been going on for months now, at the first inkling of falling for you. First, he had needed to do some research into your history, looking for a suitable candidate to test you with. You weren’t the type of person who would be wooed by a celebrity, even though that would have been much easier to organize for his purposes. No, he’d had to find someone that you’d had a connection with, maybe even feelings for.

Your yearbook had been a great source of insight into your early forays into romance, showing photographs of you with some kid, your schoolgirl crush evident in your innocent eyes. After that, it hadn’t taken him long to investigate, determining the extent of your history with this man and confirming that he would be the perfect bait.

Then, he’d had to set the scene so that you could be alone with Mr. Nelson – with him being able to watch in secret, of course – to see if you would even entertain the idea of leaving him for ‘the one who got away.’ That meant purchasing the small law firm that the man worked at, ensuring his attendance at tonight’s event, a worthy investment in his opinion if it meant cementing you by his side permanently. The two of you had kept your relationship relatively quiet and out of the public eye for now, and he had ensured that the other man was not made aware that you were spoken for.

After that, all he’d had to do was wait for tonight’s main event, disappearing into the labyrinth of passages the Ennis House held within its walls and greedily drinking you in with his eyes. You look particularly ravishing tonight in your slinky velvet dress; Nelson had better keep his hands off of you. No one but him would be touching you, on this night or any that came after.

It was difficult for him to stay away from you as the party stretched on, his unwitting pawn apparently needing to down some liquid courage before approaching you. It wasn’t only his own need to be by your side but your own desire to have him with you that nearly has him throwing his own plan out the window and whisking you upstairs and away from the world.

But he was a paranoid man, and he would not be making himself vulnerable without ascertaining your loyalty first.

Fortunately, you had exceeded his expectations, hardly giving the man the time of day as he’d first approached you. Margaret, aware of his plan as always, had played her part brilliantly, refusing to let you cling to her for protection and relieving you of your role as hostess for the evening. You’d have to deal with Nelson now.

He’d cracked the window just above the balcony where the man had rejoined you, eagerly listening in. His large hands gripped the windowsill hard enough to make it crack as he watches the man trying to cage you in, only loosening when you firmly shove the man away from you. Part of his investigation into Michael Nelson had been to determine if there was anything of concern with regards to his romantic history – he wanted to test you, but not if it meant some prick putting their hands on you, let alone causing you any harm. The PIs that he’d hired to dig up dirt had clearly been worth the money, as they’d been correct in their conclusion that Nelson wouldn’t force himself on a woman.

Hearing the way you take him to task was well worth the momentary stress of leaving you alone with another man. And when you’d called yourself his… he had immediately started to get hard, the urge to rush down and take you nearly overwhelming him.

And now he could. You had done more than pass his little test, you had shown him the depth of your devotion.

He waits until you storm past the man than had dared to refer to him as competition before making his way back to the ballroom. Keeping out of sight, he takes a moment to watch you searching for him with desperation. Your persistence is something to be rewarded, and to be rewarded now. Stepping into view, he makes sure to savour the look on your face when you lay eyes on him – relief, desire, need.

Perfect.

He lets you come to him, watching you gracefully twist and bend your body as you slip through the crowd towards him.

In an uncharacteristically public display of affection you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck as you press your body up against him, your eyes seeking out his. He winds his arms around you in a tight hug before gripping your hips, holding you at an arm’s length from him.

“What’s the matter, doll? Are you alright?” he asks innocently. If he had his way (and he would), you would never know his role in how the evening had played out thus far.

Your brow creases adorably and you nibble your lip, likely trying to decide whether or not telling him the truth would have him disappearing to hunt down the man that dared to try to have you for himself. You decide to avoid the topic by gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling him down far enough to speak in his ear.

“Take me somewhere where we can talk, please,” you beg in a breathy whisper, and the needy tone to your voice sends a thrill through him. He tucks you under his arm, immediately leading you to one of the studies just down the hall, closing and locking the door behind him. Ducking under his arm, you turn to face him with hooded eyes, though the tension held in your body is palpable.

“Tell me that I’m yours,” you plead with him, and your need to be claimed has celebratory fireworks going off in his head as you all but proclaim yourself his perfect little doll.

“Of course you are, sweetheart,” he coos, slowly guiding you backwards and over to his desk. You hop up onto it the moment your back hits the wood; he’s trained you well. “You’re all mine,” he purrs as he comes to stand before you, enjoying the way you relax at the words, letting out a deep breath. “But what’s this all about, sweetheart?” he asks, taking your face in hand and stroking your cheek.

“It’s nothing, I… I just wanted to hear you say it,” you mumble in a quiet voice, your eyes fluttering closed as though embarrassed, and that won’t do. The last thing he wants is you feeling ashamed about your need for him; you should be reveling in it. He decides to banish that thought from your pretty little head without dragging things out any further.

“Oh Y/N,” he croons, chuckling slightly. “I love you, my silly girl.”

The expression on your face as your eyes fly open is one that he vows to remember forever.

Reader’s POV:

You are completely taken aback by Terry’s confession, your eyes flying open to look at his face to determine if it was a joke or an accidental slip of the tongue. Instead you find his eyes locked onto your face, gauging your response with an intense expression of his own.

You never would’ve thought he’d be the one to say it first – part of you had thought that he wouldn’t say it ever – which was part of the reason you haven’t told him about your own feelings. Even though the depth of your love for him was likely very apparent, you hadn’t wanted to put it into words at the risk of scaring him off.

You gasp for breath after a prolonged silence, belatedly realizing you haven’t been bothering to breathe, the shock too much for your body to function normally.

“I – I – Oh!” you are unable to get the sentence out, your heart thudding too fast and too hard.

Terry, calm as ever, seems to identify the symptoms of a panic attack and moves to help you work through it, his large hands gripping your shoulders firmly but gently as he bends to your eye-level.

“Breathe with me, Y/N,” he instructs you, taking slow, deep breaths that you try your best to mimic. You keep your eyes locked with his, calmed by their gorgeous shade of blue, and after a few minutes of focus your breathing returns to normal.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asks, looking you over with a watchful eye, his brow creasing slightly with worry.

“You love me?” you ask him somewhat incredulously in response to his question. You don’t think you’ll ever be simply ‘alright’ again after this. Terry’s gaze softens, and he takes your face in his hand once more, his thumb softly stroking your cheek.

“I do, but I won’t say it again if it’s going to give you a heart attack,” he jokes, his mouth quirked in a small smile. Your heart skips a beat, and you fight to stay calm, not wanting to give him a reason to stop this thread of conversation. You still can’t quite believe it.

“Say it again,” you beg him in a whisper, your body leaning towards him like a flower to the sun. His nostrils flare slightly as he moves to lean over you, his palms flat on the desk to either side of your hips, making you feel on edge as though he was a about to strike. He lowers his face close to yours, his eyes unblinking, and you feel yourself hypnotized.

“I. Love. You.”

He enunciates each word clearly in a deep, husky voice and the intensity of the confession has you trembling. Rather than the moment being awkward as you are physically unable say the words back to him, Terry seems to take in your reaction with a great deal of satisfaction, his lips curved upward in a slight smirk.

You’re not sure how you’re lucid or coordinated enough in this moment to pull the move off, but you somehow manage to launch yourself off the desk and into his arms, kissing him desperately as though you need the taste of him more than air.

Terry’s reflexes are lightning quick as always, his arms wrapping around you to support you as he returns the kiss, gradually returning you to your perch on his desk, though his lips never leave yours. Something about the way he’s kissing you breathless feels different from before; perhaps you’re just caught in the moment and imagining it, but every brush of his lips against yours feels more intimate, more precious, as though every second of sweet torment is conveying the depth of his love.

“I love you too,” you pant out the words once he lets you up for air, your fingers clinging to his suit jacket as you try to keep him pressed against you. His gaze is still possessive and sensual as he gazes down at you, but you see the way his eyes light up as soon as the words leave your lips. “Please never let me go, Terry.”

“Not a chance,” he growls at you, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulls you towards him for another searing kiss that makes your heart sing.

A loud ripping noise brings you out of your dazed stupor, and Terry’s hands running up your bare thighs helps you attribute the noise to him having torn your dress, extending the side slit from your knee up to your waist.

“Terry!” you whimper against his lips, though you know he doesn’t give a damn about the dress. You get the sense that he would tear through anything to get to you in this moment. He shushes you in response, his hands coming up to tear it off the rest of the way, throwing the scraps of fabric behind him.

“Nothing is going to keep me from having you, Y/N,” he growls against your skin as he laves kisses across your bared flesh, his hands gripping you tightly. Your hands eagerly reach for his belt and begin to unbuckle it, but he snatches your wrists, pinning them none-too-gently over your head against the desk and leaving you squirming as you lay exposed to him. “Oh no no no. You’re getting all the attention tonight, babygirl. I’m gonna make you earn my cock.”

Your head falls back against the desk with a groan – you thought Terry had been intense and nearly torturous with his teasing before. You can’t even imagine what you’re in for now. He chuckles darkly at your reaction, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Sitting you up, he tenderly removes your lingerie, his fingers barely brushing your skin and making your body yearn for more. You wriggle your hips to help him slide your underwear down your legs, your whole body tense as you brace yourself for whatever is about to happen.

Instead of touching you, Terry moves to the bar on the other side of the room, pouring himself a whisky. He takes a long sip as he stares you down before resting the glass on a side table as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it across the back of the chair. You wait patiently, biting your lip as you try not to squirm.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks you casually as he neatly rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, not a hair out of place while you sit on his desk flushed and naked.

“You!” you moan, clenching your thighs together as you desperately try to get some friction on your clit. “I’m all yours Terry, just please –”

“What were you made for?” he interrupts you, retrieving his drink and slowly making his way back over to you as though he didn’t have a care in the world. You can see his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, the only visible sign of his arousal.

“To please you,” you whimper, the words spilling past your lips oh-so naturally. He gives you a wolfish grin in your response.

“And what does that mean?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you over the rim of his glass.

“It… it means I’ll do whatever you want?” you reply hesitantly, unsure if that’s the answer he’s looking for. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be anything, just please let me do something, Terry! I need you,” you whine, your fingers digging into the wood of the desk as you grip it tightly. And you do mean what you’re saying – you’re quite sure that you are so enamored by Terry Silver that you will happily do anything he asks of you.

“Let’s test that out,” he leers, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Push your tits together for me.”

Your hands immediately move up to grab your breasts, lifting them up and presenting them to him, your eyes rolling back into your head as your hardened nipples rub against your palms. Terry’s eyes glint as he polishes off his drink, never taking his eyes off of yours. He’s still too far away to touch you, and the realization has you nearly sobbing with need.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “Keep them there, and spread your legs.”

You feel your face burning with humiliation, but you do as he says with no hesitation, opening your legs for him.

“Wider.”

A whimper escapes your lips as you spread your legs as wide as you can, fully on display for him.

“Now tell me what you want.”

“Anything. Everything. Just please fucking touch me!”

Terry gives you a pleased grin, finally closing in on you. Tangling his free hand in your hair, he pulls your head back, pouring the remnants of whisky onto your chest and making you shiver as you try to remain in position.

“Such a perfect little doll,” Terry coos, running his hands along your legs. Dipping his head, he laps at the droplets of whisky that run down your body, pulling your hands away from your chest as he lays you back down on the desk, savouring every taste as you arch your back up towards him, craving more.

“You’re so good, so needy for me,” he breathes against the curve of your neck, his lower lip running along your sensitive skin to your ear. “I want you to keep track of how many times I make you come, Y/N. I’m gonna make every fucking inch of you mine tonight, inside and out.”

“Yes Sir,” you chirp up at him with a cheeky smile. He looks down at you with amusement, his dark eyes promising a long night of pleasure that will have you aching and spent.

“Then lay back, pretty girl, and let’s see just how quickly I can make you scream for me.”

It doesn’t take long; the instant his fingers brush against your neglected clit you are wailing for him. Terry pins your hips down with one arm, teasing you with his free hand, quickly pumping two and then three fingers into your tight heat. You let out a constant stream of moans, obscenities and his name the only coherent words you can produce.

“God Y/N, your pussy takes my fingers so good,” he groans, lifting his head and pausing his mouth’s vicious attack on your breasts to watch you coming apart from him.

“Meant to take you – please!” you choke out, tears in your eyes from the intensity of your desire. You can hardly believe how quickly he’s got you on the edge.

“You wanna come already, baby?” he taunts, laughing as you frantically nod your head, unable to speak.“Yeah? Talk dirty for me and let me hear how bad you want it.”

“TERRY PLEASE!” you scream, your voice hoarse and cracking. “Please don’t stop, please make me come for you!” Your fingernails dig into his forearm, trying to keep his hand in place. “I’m so close, you fingerfuck me so good! Right there baby, pleeeease!”

Terry takes your words to heart, keeping your hips still as he curls his fingers inside you, his thumb teasing your clit as your thighs clamp down hard on his hand as you come hard. He doesn’t relent, forcing you to stay in place as he draws out your orgasm, watching you with a fiendish delight as tears stream down your face, your chest heaving as you gasp for breath. Before you can even process anything he’s pushing you to another orgasm without you ever coming down from the high the first time.

After what feels like an eternity he lets up, pulling his hand from between your legs and wiping the evidence of your arousal on your chest until your breasts are shiny with it, the hickeys he’s given you dark and glossy along your flushed skin.

“How many was that, love?” he purrs the petname, smirking smugly down at you. He’s lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, massaging your calf to keep it from cramping up and laying kisses up and down your leg. You hold up two fingers, your hand trembling as you try to get your breathing under control, but he clucks his tongue at you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“T-Two,” you whine the word at him, feeling delirious. A low, pleased rumbling emanates from Terry’s chest, and he wordlessly switches the position of your legs to tend to the other.

“Only two, and you’re already such a mess for me, babygirl,” he croons as he kisses your ankle, his tone condescending in a way that has you shuddering with desire. Only Terry could have you feeling like both a dirty, desperate slut and the luckiest, most cherished woman in the world all at the same time. You give a noncommittal hum in response, unable to speak, but he clearly thinks that you’ve had enough of a break. “Flip over for me,” he demands, lowering your leg, and you force yourself to slide off the desk only to turn and bend over it, only barely having the presence of mind to curl your arms together to form a pillow.

“Oh, I know you haven’t had enough yet, doll. Not even close.”

You lift up one leg, your knee resting on the desk, presenting yourself to him to let him know you want more. Terry’s hands knead your ass roughly and you brace yourself with your hands on the desk to try to keep yourself upright. Sex with Terry was as much a mental act as it was a physical one; you always had to anticipate what he wanted from you and what he was going to do next.

“Beg for it.”

“Pleeeeease,” you groan, your eyes scrunched shut as you try to focus on getting the words out. “Please fuck me, Terry – I need you inside me!”

“Do you think I don’t know exactly what this pussy needs?” he snarls, delivering a sharp slap to your clit that has you lurching forwards against the desk and nearly going cross-eyed. He always seems to know just where your line is, getting as close to the boundary as he can in ways that you don’t know how to navigate yourself.

“You do you do you do!” you whine. “It’s yours, my whole body is yours!”

You recognize the sound of fabric rustling and brace yourself for a thorough fucking, but he refuses to touch you until you’re trembling with need.

“Show me how bad you want it, my dirty girl,” he growls, his hard cock teasing your slick entrance as he lubes himself up with your arousal.

With a desperate cry you force yourself to crawl fully on the desk, your shoulders and head pressed against the surface as you reach back and pull apart your thighs and ass, baring the most intimate parts of you to his gaze shamelessly. Your show of obedience is rewarded as he thrusts himself fully inside you, the bone-deep sense of completion echoing through the room as you both moan loudly with satisfaction.

“God, I love this tight little body of yours,” he hisses through his teeth, reaching around to pull you back against his chest, large hands playing roughly with your nipples as your head lolls back against him; you’re completely cock-drunk. “Perfect little cocksleeve… just made for me…”

“M-M-Made for you – ah!” you keen as he fucks you at a new angle, the fat head of his cock hitting your cervix hard enough to ache deliciously. “L-Love you, n-need it so m-much!”

Terry’s hands grip you hard enough to bruise as he ruts into you almost frantically; your admission of love in the heat of the moment making him thrust into you at a furious pace as he takes his pleasure in your entire body and makes you sing for him.

“Take one more, sweetheart. Let me give you just one more,” he coaxes you in a hoarse, guttural voice, clutching you to him like a man possessed.

You grind your hips back against him, your brain and body unable to do anything except try to get him in deeper…harder… He could fuck you every day for forever and you don’t think you’d ever get enough, even as he utterly overwhelms you.

“That’s it, my sweet girl; ride my cock and come with me,” he coos, his muscles straining slightly as he holds you tightly right where he wants you.

“Yes fuck Terry YES!” you chant over and over in time with your ass bouncing against his hips, completely mindless with pleasure.

“That’s it baby, get after it,” he growls, leaning down to bite your shoulder as he pistons his cock to fuck up and into you. “Be a good girl and let me feel that pretty pussy come all over my cock.”

You roll your hips, grinding against him and moaning wantonly, feeling so damn close.

“Just one more, and then my little slut gets a break before I take her upstairs,” he urges you. “Take me, sweetheart – take all my love.”

Your pussy clamps down, squeezing his cock tightly as his words take you over the edge. Terry’s hands slide down your hips, holding you down on his cock as he comes as deep inside you as he can with a low grunt of your name. You both catch your breath, your body slick with sweat against Terry, who somehow still doesn’t have a hair out of place.

“Three?” he asks quietly as he gently guides you to sit back on the desk. You let out a whimper, your pussy tender from his rough attentions.

“Three,” you confirm the number of orgasms, giving him a sheepish, sleepy grin.

“I think that’s earned you a bit of a break then, princess,” he announces, and you bite back a sigh of relief.

Terry walks over to the chair, picking up his suit jacket and laying it over his arm. Your eyes scan the floor, spotting the scraps of your torn dress, and you look up at him with wide eyes. He stares back, his head slightly cocked to the side as though considering something, his eyes tracking you as you retrieve your lingerie; at least that was still in tact.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks suddenly, still surveying you with bright eyes, and you know it’s a test. You walk over to him, trying not to stumble with your weak knees, dropping to the ground when you get close and dropping to your knees. You crawl to his feet, nuzzling your face against his legs in answer to his question. After a moment you feel one of his hands in your hair, stroking the top of your head almost shyly. Looking up at him, you see him looking down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I love you,” he whispers, a tone of awe in his voice that has you feeling all tingly. He offers you his hand, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. You stand on your toes, calves twinging slightly, and lay a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I love you too, Terry.”

He tosses his jacket around your shoulders, helping you put your arms through the long sleeves; you must look a mess right about now, but from the way he’s looking at you, you might as well be a queen in his eyes.

“Your job now,” he begins quietly, and you find yourself automatically straightening in response to his commanding tone, “is to make it upstairs with nobody seeing you.”

Just the thought of anyone seeing you like this, reeking of sweat and sex and wrapped only in Terry’s jacket has you blushing. No, only Terry could see you like this.

You know who you belong to.

Giving him a nod, you move to retrieve your shoes, concealing them beneath your coat with your lingerie and your ruined dress.

“I’ll go make our excuses for the evening, and tell Margaret that we are not to be disturbed. By the time I join you upstairs, I expect to find you on all fours on the bed. I want that ass to be the first thing I see when I walk in.”

You can’t help the noise that escapes you, and he arches an eyebrow at you in response.

“You didn’t really think we’d be stopping after three, did you?” he asks incredulously, giving you a laugh. “Oh, Y/N, you’re in for a long night.”

He walks over to the door, turning back to you before unlocking it. You have no idea how long the two of you have been gone for.

“Nothing’s for free, doll,” he murmurs, taking your face in his hand and running his thumb along your swollen bottom lip. “You’re gonna pay for what you do to me, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”

He turns away from you without another word, leaving the door open behind him as he returns to your guests. You nervously peek your head out, making sure the coast is clear before scampering down the hall and up the stairs, trying to keep hold of your bundle of clothing.

The price of owning Terry’s heart is high, but you’re content to be forever in his debt.

(I know this isn't the most fitting gif, but I think it still fits and I couldn't resist after seeing the way it pans down to show the extent of the slutty gi!)

---

Thanks for your patience everyone, and I hope you enjoyed! I did have some ideas for when they make it up to the bedroom where he really pushes you over the edge, so if anyone would want to see that at some point just throw it in my inbox!

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling - spencer reid

Warnings: angsty, a lot of cursing, smut (nothing too explicit; just a pretty heated make-out session) Word Count: 4.3k Summary: You and the young doctor used to date. Now, years later, you were back in Spencer’s life - much to his dismay. A/N: it kinda takes a bit to get into so i’m thinking maybe of making a part two cause there was soo much more i wanted to write?? // PART TWO IS UP NOW, link at the bottom

- 

“There has to be some mistake.” Spencer exclaimed, an irritated expression now outlined his facial features. “It’s not a mistake.” Emily stated calmly as she sat back down in her chair, eyeing the doctor in front of her with caution almost as if she was waiting for him to blow. But he didn't say anything. 

Instead, he was looking down at this hands. Rather at the brown folder she handed him just minutes ago. A folder containing information about the BAU’s new team member. Your information.

He reread your name over and over again. Praying this wasn't actually happening. Hoping this was a dream, a hallucination. 

“Spencer, the decision has been made. She starts today.” His eyes darted up instantly to meet Emily’s. His jaw locked. Yes, he was angry. Of course he was angry; as she suspected he would be once the news broke. And in his own mind, he had every right to be. 

“I hope you don’t think that because we know each other I’ll be the one showing her around.” He spat flinging the folder onto the desk in front of him. It landed with a soft thud. Emily sighed slightly taken aback by his attitude. She’s never seen him act this way. This wasn’t the Spencer Reid she’s worked with all these years. 

“I’ve already asked JJ to take Y/N under her wing.” Spencer flinched at the sound of your name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. No. He shook the thought away. To him, at this moment in time, you were anything but. Evil incarnate. Better. 

There was a brief moment of silence. 

“Spencer, if you want to talk-” “I’m fine.” He interrupted and hurried out of the room. Emily watched him cross the bullpen and disappear behind the glass door. She let out a deep breath while glancing at the clock on her wall. You should be arriving any minute now. 

The elevator door opened with a quiet ‘ding’. Taking a deep breath you stepped out where Emily was waiting with a smile on her face. She immediately reached out and shook your hand. “Hi again Y/N, welcome to the BAU.” You squeezed her hand gently - hoping she wouldn't sense your nervousness. “It’s definitely good to be here. Thank you for this opportunity.” 

Emily let your hand fall. Still smiling she said; “No need to thank me. Your professional reputation precedes you, I would be a fool not to hire you.” "Still, it’s an honour.” 

You followed her through the bullpen. She showed you your desk, pointed to where her office is: “I’ll have JJ give you a more detailed tour later on but right now we have a case.”. You nodded in understanding. “Yes, I packed a go-back when you rang me this morning. It’s in my car.” “Perfect.” 

Emily led you to a conference room where you were greeted by the rest of the team. There wasn’t time for deep introductions, just quick shakes off the hand in between a ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘good to have you on the team’.  Although one person was missing from the welcome wagon. And you weren't the only one to notice. 

“Where’s Reid?” Emily asked glancing around the table. She motioned for you to sit down in one of the empty chairs, which you did. “Spence said he’ll meet us on the jet.” It was the petite blonde who spoke, JJ. “Apparently he had something he needed to do before we left.” Emily nodded. She glanced at you with an apologetic look before turning her attention to the screen at the top of the room.

“Let’s get started.” 

As the team discussed details of the case, you stayed silent. You should be paying attention. Your first case with the BAU, your first day. Concentrate. Yet instead your gaze still wondered to the empty seat. 

You shouldn't be surprised that he didn't want to be here. A part of you was relieved, however, another part of you was quite hurt. You thought maybe after all these years he wouldn't have cared anymore. Clearly you were wrong. He’s not worth it. And he wasn't. So you shook the weird feeling away and turned your attention to the screen. 

Later on the jet, you didn't want to cause a scene once the young doctor finally showed himself therefore you settled into a seat as far away from the rest of the group as possible. You looked out the window, onto the grey tarmac and waited. What you were waiting for exactly you had no idea. If he didn't want to see you earlier, he definitely wouldn't want to see you now. Except now he had no choice.

“Hey, are you okay?” Your thoughts were interrupted and you looked up to find Luke smiling down at you. “First day jitters.” You lied smoothly. He grinned. “Definitely know how that feels. You’re doing great so far.” You smiled as he plopped herself down on the empty armchair in-front of you. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked back outside. “So a little birdie told me you knew Reid before his time at the BAU. What was he like?” Luke inquired, making conversation. Your palms began to sweat. How would you even begin to tell him what Spencer was like? Did you even remember correctly? Or was the image you had imbedded in your brain a figment of your imagination; what you wanted to remember.

“Uhm. He was shy.” You smiled to yourself at the thought of the young doctor always tugging nervously at the hem of his shirt. “Well he’s definitely far from that now.” Luke chuckled and added: “Yeah he’s eh, he’s been through a lot in the last year alone. This job squeezes the shyness right out of you.” 

And like a ghost from your past he appeared. Almost as if he heard you talking about him. Spencer Reid. He looked different than you remembered. More grown up, older, tired. Handsome. You sat up straight in your seat; your eyes glued to the boy you were in love with all those years ago. The brown haired doctor stood at the top of the plane, a stern look on his face. He scanned the plane looking for a place to sit. That’s when his eyes landed on you. 

The air caught in your throat as your eyes locked. Should you wave? No. Smile? Definitely not. Your mind raced a million miles per second wondering what the appropriate thing to do would be while Spencer simply turned away; his attention no longer on you. 

“Do you want to go say hello?” Luke asked following your gaze. “Maybe later.” You replied, focused Spencer. From the corner of your eye you could see him nod. He wanted to say something else but he held himself back. “If you don’t mind I’m gonna catch up on some sleep.” He made himself comfortable and without waiting for you to respond dozed off.  

Spencer sensed you still looking at him. Why were you looking at him? He wanted nothing more than to scream, tell you to stop, but he was a professional. Spencer Reid was a professional and he wasn't going to let you ruin- ruin- ruin what exactly? He shook the thought away. You were bound to ruin something. 

He knew deep down he was being irrational. It has been years since the two of you last saw each other. A lot has happened since then, a lot has changed. Spencer wondered if you changed. He found himself secretly hoping you didn't; you were perfect. No, no. He gritted his teeth causing his jaw to clench. 

He glanced in the direction of your seat - why, he did not know. Curiosity maybe. Or did he just want to look at you again. But your seat was empty. 

Instead you were stood by the coffee machine, trying to figure out how the pesky thing worked. He couldn't help but snicker under his breath amused. If he was to state the obvious physically you hadn't aged a day. Your hair was different, longer and a slightly lighter colour. He wondered if it still smelled the same. Coconut. Damn it. How could you still have such an effect on him? 

In that moment he decided to bite the bullet. Better to get it over with and this was his chance. Suddenly feeling nervous Spencer took a step forward and began to approach you. 

“Hi there.” The words came out croaky. No response. You didn't even look up from the machine. Spencer cleared his throat. “You need to turn it off and back on. It’s pretty old so often it needs an additional nudge before it starts working.” 

He pressed the button restarting the coffeemaker. Spencer relaxed beside you; he was so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating to say the least. The blood in your veins was pumping faster than it has been all day. 

And as if his sudden closeness wasn't bad enough, he reached over to grab the mug you were gripping tightly in your hands. His fingers brushed against yours in the process sending an immense tingle down your spine. He froze for a moment and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. 

Eventually, you let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. “I thought maybe you would pretend I don't exist.” Spencer huffed at your comment rolling his eyes. The machine began to purr and a black liquid slowly poured into your cup. “I can't ignore you forever. We work together now.”

That last sentence came out harsh. You noticed immediately and your gaze darted up to meet his. The look in his eyes was one you haven't seen before. Dark, hateful even. “If you have something to say just say it. If not, leave me alone.” You hissed as you stared up at him. The coffee machine beeped. 

You began to reach for your beverage but Spencer grabbed you by the arm, intercepting, and pulled you in closer to him. His grip strong. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden movement. 

“Let me go.” You hissed as you stared back up at him. His clutch on your arm tightened - it was starting to become uncomfortable but you weren't going to let him know that. You only hoped the rest of the team couldn't sense the rising tension and weren't paying attention to this cumbersome reunion. 

“Why are you here? Why are you back Y/N?” Spencer finally asked in an ominous tone. “I’m here to work.” You replied confidently. He scoffed pressing your arm harder into his chest. You could feel his anger spike. His body heat radiating against you due to the proximity of your stance. 

“What, Los Angeles wasn't big enough for your ego?” He jeered. “Gee Spencer, I didn't think you were keeping tabs on me. Careful or I might start to think you still care.” You sneered in a mocking tone. It was the wrong thing to say, you knew that. You knew it would only get him angrier. And he did. 

His blood boiled like lava. You could see the hatred smouldering across his facial features, eyes narrowed. He wanted to explode. If it wasn't for where the two of you currently stood he would allowed for the darkness to swallow him whole. You sensed it. He was aware you sensed it. Even after all this time no-one knew him better than you. Perhaps that’s why he was so bitter. 

“Quite frankly Y/N, I don't give a fuck about you.” He spat letting your arm fall. 

The words stung. Your face fell and for a split second his demeanour changed. A glimmer of sorrow in his eyes. His lips parted almost as if to say something - apologise maybe. But the moment passed quickly and within seconds he was cold again. “Enjoy your coffee.” He muttered before turning on his heel and walking away. 

A lone tear dripped slowly down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before anyone noticed and grabbed your drink, sulking back in your seat. 

Remainder of the flight was uneventful. The team gathered together once again shortly before landing for a quick briefing. Together you went through any last minute developments in the case. This time you participated, not letting Spencer’s tense poise distract you. Once the meeting concluded Emily divided you into teams of two - thankfully she paired you with JJ meaning you got to avoid Spencer the rest of that afternoon.

You didn't see him again until much later that evening at the local station. He stood by the bulletin board, deep in thought working up the geographical profile. 

JJ asked if you wanted a coffee, you said yes. Spencer’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice but he didn't look away from the map. JJ turned to Spencer with the same question, he simply shook his head and she disappeared leaving you with the young doctor.

Neither of you said a word. He focused on his own work as you reached for the box of the first victims journals you gathered with JJ. Picking up the first one you began to read through it - pacing. Spencer watched you now. Just like he used to all those years ago. He always found it odd that you liked reading while walking around. A small smile circled his lips at the familiarity of it all, but as soon as you glanced up at him the smile faded. 

Soon enough JJ returned with the coffees. You thanked her as she sat down, grabbing a journal from the box. Her presence eased the rising tension you could slowly feel forming. 

“Does ‘blind pig’ mean something other than the animal?” JJ asked taking a sip of her hot beverage. “Yes-” You and Spencer replied simultaneously. You locked eyes for an awkward moment. Spencer cleared his throat, averting his ogling, as you turned to JJ. “A blind pig can also stand for a place where alcoholic drinks are served illegally.” 

“The first victim references that phrase in almost every entry.” JJ said, showing you one of the poorly scribbled annotations. “I’ll ask one of the officers if they know of any restaurants or bars that partake in such activities.” You said placing your coffee and the journal you were reading on the table. “Good luck. They weren't very forthcoming earlier according to Emily.” She smiled encouragingly before turning her attention back to the notebook in her hand. 

Spencer on the other hand found himself following you with his gaze. He watched as you approached one of the policemen. Your hips swaying elegantly from side to side. He watched how you flicked your hair over your shoulder almost in a flirtatious way, a warm full smile appearing on your face. He watched as you laughed at something the officer said, tilting your neck slightly backwards and placing your hand gently on his bicep.

An unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of him. Was it jealousy? No. Spencer Reid wasn't jealous because you were casually seducing some crook of a man. His fists clenched at his side, fingernails digging deep into the palms of his own hands. 

Oblivious to the brown haired doctor staring you down, you continued talking with the officer. “I wouldn't normally ask this, but honestly I’m perplexed and I was hoping you would be able to help me.” You fluttered your eyelashes feeling sick to your stomach that flirting was the only way to get some information. But it worked. Soon enough you were strutting back to where JJ and Spencer where now joined by the rest of your team - a printout of all the places serving alcohol illegally in one hand and the officers number jotted on a napkin in the other. 

“Nice going.” JJ grinned as you handed her the list. “That poor guy didn't stand a chance.” Rossi affirmed with a quiet laugh. Matt and Luke chuckled together soon joined by Emily. The only person that wasn't amused by your theatrics was Spencer. “Yes, whoring yourself out is really a display of skill.” 

The group immediately fell silent. “Reid.” Emily’s tone of voice was far from pleasant as she glared at the young doctor. 

“Spence-” JJ began but you cut her off. “You’d think with an IQ of 187 you would know by now how not to be a fucking prick doctor Reid.” You hissed and tossed the napkin, which was now curled into a tight ball, right at his head - missing only because he ducked. You excused yourself calmly and briskly rushed out of there. 

The cold breeze hit your skin the second you stepped outside. Your break down followed shortly after. Hiding behind one of the pillars to the side of the building you burst into loud sobs - once the floodgates opened they were hard to control. A sweep of tears escaped your eyes, trailing down your face like a waterfall. It was hard to breathe. Your fingers desperately fidgeted with the buttons of your shirt hastily undoing the top few. You placed your hand on your chest, heart thumping. 

Through your heavy cries you didn't hear the door swing open behind. “Y/N?” A familiar voice called out, the cause of your current waterworks.

It didn't take long for him to find you - hunched behind a pillar, one hand on your chest while the other held your head. Cautiously, he ambled towards you leaving only a step between his body and your own. He reached out and gently took your hand away from your face; it was slightly wet from all the tears you caught in it. You didn't look at him so he closed the space between you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up. 

“Congratulations, I guess you got what you wanted.” You whimpered, the look in your eyes completely broken. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly confused. “This isn't what I wanted.” He whispered. “Really? Could've fooled me.” You muttered in between your sobs, trying to free yourself from his strong grip. 

He didn’t say anything. He didn't know what to say. Tell you he regretted that sentence the second it escaped his lips? You wouldn't believe him. Apologise? Yes, he should probably apologise. But as he opened his mouth nothing came out. He looked at you with a sense of hopelessness, this was not what he wanted to happen. “You have to believe me Y/N. I didn't mean-” “Forget it Spencer, I don't want to hear it.” You cried attracting unwanted attention from passersby. 

“I knew this would be difficult, seeing you after all this time and having to work together-” You took a deep breath. “-but I thought we’d at least be mature about it!” Your sadness dissolved into anger. You mustered enough strength to free yourself from his embrace, slightly pushing him back. That was enough for Spencer to get angry too - it was unwarranted yes, but he couldn't help it. Fight fire with fire. 

“God Y/N, you are so entitled!” He hissed taking a step forward, once again closing the space between you. “You only look out for yourself!” He jabbed his finger into you; just under your collarbone. “You are the one that left!” Jab. “You are the one that chose to come back!” Jab. “You are the one that fucking ruins everything!” Jab. Jab. Jab. 

“And you are the one acting like a dick about it!” You groaned aggravated. He gritted his teeth - you stroke a nerve. A sense of satisfaction overcame you; so you continued. “The only one with a problem here is you!” It was your turn to poke him and you made sure to do it hard. He didn't like that. He grabbed your finger, pulling it away from himself. His hand then slid until your wrist was wrapped tightly in his hand. 

He had all the power. And he knew it too. 

The two of you continued yelling insults at each other. You called him “irrational”, “immature”, and “a complete asshole” - amongst other curses. He resorted to bringing up your troubled heated past whilst calling you “crazy” and “a bitch”. Tension rose with every spoken sentence - your faces mere inches away from each other. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he jeered how much he hated you. The look in his eyes was infuriation, but there was something else. Arousal? Impossible. 

“Do you know why you hate me so much?” You provoked. “Because I don’t stroke your ego. Because all those years ago I decided to follow my own path rather than stay and entertain you like everyone else in your pathetic life!” His jaw clenched. “And I think you're feeling insecure now that I’m back and working with this team because I know things-” “Shut up.” He whispered but you ignored him. “-I know things that could ruin you.” “SHUT UP!”

The sound of his roar caused a couple of people to stop in their path and look towards the two of you. The door flung open and an officer stepped outside to check whether everything was okay, but Spencer was quick to dismiss him. 

Seconds passed in which Spencer composed himself. Taking a step back he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around, in search of what to say next. You however celebrated this small victory. A smirk appeared on your face and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied laugh.

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna head back inside.” You said coyly. He didn't protest. He didn't even look at you. The smirk on your face faded. The anger began to dissipate. “For what it’s worth if I knew things would be this hostile between us, I wouldn't have taken the job.” 

With that being said, you were about to walk around the pillar when he grabbed you again. Your back pressed to the cold brick and Spencer’s assailed against you. No escape. He leaned down, tilting his head slightly, and you felt your body give way to his unspoken suggestion.

His mouth slanted over yours - all options to deny him taken away. His hands flew to your face cupping it hastily as his fingers buried in your hair, tangling themselves in the thickness. Your arms slid around his waist, trailing upwards, and feeling the hard muscles of his back. Both your heads rotated back and forth to vary pressure. His mouth was possessive and it didn't take long for his tongue to breach your lips. 

All of the emotions that had been churning rose to the surface and exploded all at once - your heart felt like it was on a rampage. The kiss now deeper than ever. Your tongues dancing together, each trying to assert dominance. Spencer bit down on your bottom lip vigorously causing a velvety moan to escape your mouth. The smooth sound of pleasure only fuelled the doctor more as he pushed himself into you more and you felt his member twitch in his pants.  

After what seemed like forever, he pulled away. The pause was brief allowing you to only to catch a quick breath, and in the space of a heartbeat Spencer lowered his mouth back down to yours with immense passion and desire. Your legs felt like rubber as you leaned into him completely. He explored your mouth as his hands nonchalantly made their way from your face down to your collar. 

Now that he’s tasted your lips, after all this time apart, he found himself only wanting more. 

Spencer grazed you roughly with his nails before binding one hand steadily around your neck - giving it a soft squeeze. The other hand continued down your chest, his fingers making their way inside your half-opened blouse. Your whole body was on fire. As was his. 

Slowly, he broke the kiss. Both of you breathless. A hungry look spread across his facial features; now you definitely saw arousal in his eyes. He let his hands fall down by his sides, but his body weight was still pressed into you. He tried to organise his thoughts. Which was impossible to do with you standing right there - your eyes wide open, hair ruffled, mouth slightly parted swollen and red from the kiss. Fuckable. 

He moved away from you because he knew if he didn't his lips would once again find yours. He watched you collect yourself. Fix your blouse, wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers, adjust your skirt, flatten your hair. None of that helped however; he still wanted to devour you. 

When you finally met his gaze there was a hint of regret in your eyes. All the dirty thoughts and scenarios he had piling in his brain disappeared momentarily because Spencer knew that look all too well - there was an invisible line you had drawn and the two of you crossed it. 

“Tell Emily she’ll have my resignation letter in the morning.” Your voice a bare whisper. 

He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you he was sorry for everything. Sorry for the arguments, the name calling, for ruining your first day, sorry for the kiss. He wanted to take your hand, and tell you that there was a way the two of you could work together after all. That you didn't need to do this. That he was glad you were back. 

But no words came out. His throat locked up. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights and simply followed you with his gaze as you hailed a taxi and disappeared into the night. 

-

| PART TWO | PART THREE |

masterlist

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 30

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff

; Warnings: Discussions of sex, questions of consent (no rape, don’t worry), body issues, body weight issues, self-esteem problems, self-confidence issues, brief mention of self-harm thoughts, mentions of bullying

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This chapter is one pretty close to me and might be tough for anyone else who’s also overweight or has been overweight during those tough times in school! Don’t worry about the MC, she’s okay. There’s no rape, the consent thing is briefly mentioned as a question. Please reblog this if you enjoyed so others can read, leave me comments or asks so I can know what you think :) only 10 more chapters left...

; Flower Masterpost

-

Giggling quietly to yourself, you scroll through the pictures on your phone carefully. It takes you forever to finally move onto the next one as you feel the need to carefully scan over each one in depth to catch all the little things. There’s so much to find in each picture and you spend as long as you can looking them over in amusement, grinning at the odd fashion choices.

“What are you laughing at?” Hoseok asks, coming over from the kitchen with a fresh glass of water for you and a cup of peppermint tea for himself. He’d only been home from work for about ten minutes while you’d been home for over half an hour now. Taking a sip from your glass, you smirk at him slightly as he sits next to you with a deep sigh.

Tiredness is etched into his face today, the dark circles under his eyes a little deeper than usual. He’d been struggling to sleep lately for some reason, waking up repeatedly apparently. Reaching over, you gently cup his cheek and stroke his skin softly, enjoying the welcome smile he gives before you turn your phone around to let him see.

“Interesting hair. How many jars of hair gel did you go through when you were a teenager?” You tease him, watching as his eyes widen when he realises what the photo is. It’s of Hoseok when he was a teenager; maybe fourteen or fifteen and with what looks like a bucket of grease on his head. The spikes of his hair turn quickly into an overly long hairstyle in the next picture, straightened but with a distinctive fringe covering one eye.

“You had an emo phase! Look at you! All that eyeliner and those neon streaks. I never had an emo phase, you know. I don’t think I had any phase to be honest. Except for a horse phase when I was really young.” Hoseok goes to grab for your phone, his mouth pulled into a cringe as you scroll to the next picture and reveal yet another emo looking Hoseok with an abundance of sweatbands, colourful wristbands and more. He looked distinctly drunk, even though he can’t have been more than sixteen.

It’s so strange seeing Hoseok with slightly chubbier cheeks, his body gangly and lean in that teenage boy way as it went through the process of puberty while his face still maintained such a youthful look. Despite that, you can see the template for the statuesque face he’d end up with already in the pictures. The elegant slope of his nose was still pretty, even if he’d not quite grown into it at that point and a jawline that’s not quite as strong as it is now.

“Mom sent you this, didn’t she?” He groans, rubbing at his eyes before peering back at the phone through gaps between his fingers. Chortling softly, you shake your head before looking back at the screen.

“No, actually. She put them on her Facebook. Apparently she found the pictures while cleaning and scanned them in. Reminiscing about your wild years.” That makes Hoseok make the strangest noise, a combination of a groan and a shout. He’s looking at his own phone instantly, face palming when he sees the pictures.

“Moooom,” He whines pathetically, looking through them. You place your phone down on the coffee table and shuffle closer to him, letting yourself see the photos through his screen. Glancing at his face, you take in his slight frown and the pout of his lips, hoping he’s not too annoyed that his mom has put them up.

“Are you angry at her?” Shaking his head, he sighs deeply before letting his phone drop onto the table too.

“Not really. Just...it’s more embarrassing. Though, isn’t that her job at this age? As you can see through; I’ve always been good looking. Maybe not always with the best style admittedly but...at least the music is still great. My Chemical Romance remains one of the best bands in my opinion, even if they’re not as heavy as what I listen to now.” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs up and rest a hand on your knee.

“I mean...it was certainly a style.”

“So come on then, I’ve shown you mine. Where’s your embarrassing teenage pics?” Hoseok teases, sticking his tongue out at you playfully. The silver ball of his tongue piercing catching the light momentarily before it disappears into his mouth once more.

Awkwardly, you smile back at him before shrugging slightly. The sudden change in your behaviour is obviously noticeable as Hoseok frowns, tilting his head in a silent question at you. Licking your lips, you realise that you’re playing with your fingers. A nervous habit.

“I don’t have any,” At the confusion Hoseok shows, you clear your throat. “I mean, outside of graduation photos. I...I wouldn’t let myself be photographed back then.”

“Wha-, seriously? Like...none? I don’t think my parents would have let me, even as grumpy as I was to them all the time.” You can understand why he doesn’t understand. There’s not many people you can think of who have near enough zero pictures of those years. For many teenagers today, the very idea of not having a million pictures might be unthinkable.

“Have you ever been overweight?” You ask quietly, the question seemingly random as you lean into him until he has to wrap his arm around you to make it comfortable. For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Being with him for well over a year now means that you’ve come to understand him, the knowledge that he’s not ignoring you but considering your question carefully.

“No. Can’t say I have.” He finally answers, running his fingers along your arm slowly. 

Twisting your lips, you sigh heavily and let your head fall back against his shoulders as you let your mind wander back to when you were younger. Back to where your insecurities began, all those years ago. Swallowing hard, you decide to go ahead with it. You’d alluded to it enough and now felt like the right time to finally talk about your formative years.

But your breath stutters, throat closing tighter as you realise it’s hard to go back to then. To when you were so easily hurt and affected by everything. Even in the safety of Hoseok’s embrace, you felt the tremor of fear and anxiety as your memories came back tainted.

“I have. I mean, when I was a little kid, I was like a stick. I could eat whatever I wanted and I used to spend so much time running around having fun. We don’t have too many pictures from back then; my parents couldn’t really afford a camera. Occasionally they’d get a disposable one but that’s about it. But...when I hit puberty around twelve or thirteen...I just kind of, ballooned? I don’t think I even realised it at the time, but it’s like my metabolism just plummeted or something. And before I knew it...I was the fat kid in class.” The heat in your eyes tells you that you’re on the verge of crying and you take a moment to breathe, blinking hard before looking up at the ceiling.

Hoseok remains quiet, letting you tell him without interrupting or anything.

“I mean...no one outright bullied me or anything, you know? It wasn’t like in the movies where you’re getting beaten up or shoved into lockers. It was more...the comments, the looks and just the general knowledge that you’re not attractive. Teenagers are really good at making those sly comments that are so hurtful, especially when you’re so young and still finding yourself. It’d be like...we’d be watching something and a pig would turn up on the screen and somebody would snicker and say it was me. Or someone else would joke about dating me and...I could just tell that it was an insult. And that their reasoning was my weight.” The arm around you tightens suddenly, as if hearing the casual cruelty you’d endured had ignited Hoseok’s protective instincts.

Memories flit by in your mind as you recall incidents; someone in your class finding out your crush and spreading that you liked them. Their disbelieving snort as they looked you up and down, their eyes falling heavily on your stomach before saying it would never happen. Without even realising it, you’re cradling your stomach now. Still not flat like you’d always fantasised, but not like it used to be.

You didn’t hate it now at least. Never loved, but not hated anymore.

“That...that sticks with you. Something I’m not too sure people realise is that, like, when you’re overweight...you’re constantly aware of it. It’s not just your body, it’s your life. It is you. There’s this weird mentality that people think overweight folk don’t know it, that you’re oblivious. You’re never oblivious. You’re not allowed to be oblivious. People make sure you’re aware, you know? The people telling you it’s unhealthy or it’s ugly and stuff. If you’re overweight, you’re well aware of these issues. But trying to resolve them is just as hard. You go to the gym and you’re aware of all the fat rolls, the way you jiggle and roll. How you’re out of breath doing the simplest thing while super fit people are probably watching you in disgust, even though you’re there to get fit,”

“If you eat, then you feel uncomfortably aware that you’re not just eating. That you’re fat and eating. So you become self-conscious over food. If it’s something healthy like a salad then you just think everyone is laughing at you. ‘What’s she bothering with that for?’. If it’s unhealthy then it’s more like, ‘of course she’s eating that, the lard ass’. You’re hyper aware of every aspect of your life and that’s the worst thing. Just...being so aware. You’re convinced that everyone is judging you, staring at you or talking about you. I felt so many times when I was like, fifteen or sixteen that I just...took up more space than I should.” Wiping at your eyes, you sniff before looking at Hoseok and giving him a watery smile.

The concern on his face for you makes your heart swell, the knowledge that he’s listening to you openly. That he cares. Even if you’re exposing a part of you that you’ve never let anyone see. Not even Chungha or Soyeon. It had felt far too personal, something that they couldn’t understand.

“It’s like...everyone has a certain amount of space they’re allowed to have, but when you’re fat, you realise that you take up more. And you become so aware that other people don’t like that. That they’re disgusted by the idea, and you become afraid of things like...sitting on a seat in a bus because you’re terrified of spreading past your ‘space’. Or sliding through a small gap and the panic that you’re just being...too much. I’d always try and run to the school bus when class finished so that I could find a seat first. And I’d always let the other person sit next to the window so that I could hang as close to the edge as possible and get off quickly. Then I’d panic that I’d look disgusting to others, half-hanging off the seat. I just...it affects you. Mentally. You just do things differently because you’re always aware of your body. In negative ways,”

“I’d never go swimming with anyone else. Mandatory swim classes left me panicked because it meant people would see me. See all the lumps and the bumps, everything I hated. I’d never look at myself naked in the mirror, or even in my underwear because I hated it. I was disgusted. I used to fantasise about just...slicing off bits of me to make myself nice and thin. I don’t even know if that’s normal.” Your voice breaks slightly, going slightly hoarse as you recall the pure hatred and revulsion you’d felt for yourself back then. The way your body felt like a cage you were trapped in.

Sitting up straight again, you take a deep breath to fortify yourself before smiling at him gently. Taking his hand, you squeeze it for reassurance and feel comforted when he squeezes back.

“I hated myself. Didn’t ever think I was going to be anything amazing. Or that I’d ever fall in love. How could anyone fall in love with me when I hated myself, right? When I was seventeen, I finally took the plunge and joined this free gym. Started eating healthier. It was really hard. I hated it so much. Vomited everywhere from the exercise, cried a lot. I wanted to lose weight healthily though, not too fast otherwise I’d end up thin but with skin flaps. So it was gradual. I wasn’t hugely overweight thankfully, but I only felt finally happy when I was nineteen.” Now you laugh at yourself, rolling your eyes and poking at your stomach in amusement before kissing Hoseok’s cheek playfully.

He doesn’t laugh back, causing you to kiss him gently. A silent way of letting him know that you’re okay, that it’s okay for him to laugh and smile too. When you pull away, he hesitates for a moment before giving you a slightly awkward smile. It’s enough for you.

“That’s why I didn’t have any experience until college. I was nineteen when I met Chungha and Soyeon in class. They were like...these ridiculously beautiful girls who were so confident and full of life, you know? Partygoers and everything. And I wasn’t. But somehow, we found things in common and it’s like...they knew I needed encouragement. So, it was slow but...I did stuff. I went to the parties...hated them just as much as I thought I would. Finally kissed a guy; wasn't as good as I thought it’d be. Lost my virginity to a random guy at a party in some house when I was twenty. Also wasn’t that good. The extent of my dating life was a few guys who didn’t last long. Both in terms of relationship and sex.” You grin at Hoseok, wiggling your brows and causing him to chuckle in amusement.

His chest gets a little bigger as he pushes it up, a smug look on his face. “All those memories obviously pale in comparison to my amazing kissing and sex skills.”

Snorting, you push at him playfully before reaching up and pulling him down, hand resting on the short undercut hair on his neck as you bring him into a kiss. Hoseok obviously wants to prove his skills, kissing you a little more intense than you’d expected but you just laugh into it before pulling away and smiling at him happily.

“Well...I’m not going to say you’re wrong. It did kind of depress me a little that it seemed guys were only interested when I was a bit thinner but, I also felt a weird sense of pride. That I’d finally done it. Gotten what I thought I’d wanted. Until I realised I hated that whole scene and wanted nothing to do with it. So...I just kept myself as in shape as I could over the years and tried to come to terms with myself. As you know...I’m not quite there. But I’m better than I was, I promise. I just feel a little bad that I was convinced being thin would change things. It changes some stuff but...not everything.”

You can tell that Hoseok isn’t entirely sure what to say. It isn’t surprising really, you wouldn’t have any idea how to respond to someone telling you all these sad things they’d experienced either. But then again, you were just generally useless when it came to anyone else’s emotions and feelings.

When he does finally speak again, his question surprises you completely as it seems to have nothing to do with what you’d just been telling him. 

“Did you drink alcohol back then? I know you don’t drink it now because you don’t like the taste but if you went to parties…” He trails off, his face twisted in question as he considers what you’ve said. It was true that you didn’t like the taste, hence why you never drank it. You also just preferred to drink something like water as it was much healthier for you.

“I did. Too much. When I started going to them, I threw myself into the alcohol as it helped me to overcome my shyness. A drunk me is apparently very outgoing. I also have very little inhibitions when I’m drunk. Pretty sure the only reason I first kissed a guy was because I was completely fucked. And I’d drank a lot when I lost my virginity; there was no other way I was going to get naked in front of a guy.” You don’t notice the instant concern on Hoseok’s face when you say that, your gaze far away as you stare unseeingly at the TV screen.

You’re too busy remembering those wild years in college. Or what you can remember anyway. Another reason you hated alcohol was the way you didn’t feel in control of yourself and your emotions while inebriated along with the way you often end up forgetting parts of a night. Why anyone could possibly enjoy that all the time was beyond you.

“You...I hate to have to ask this but...you did...consent to it. Right? It wasn’t like...forced on you?” Hoseok sounds intensely uncomfortable as he asks the questions, causing you to frown as you look back at him. “I just...if you were really as drunk as you say you were, then I mean, well, I just...I wouldn’t have been comfortable sleeping with a girl who would only sleep with me if she was completely inebriated.” 

He shifts in position on the couch, bringing a knee up so only one foot remains on the floor while taking your hands. The look on his face is completely earnest and filled with worry. For you. And you finally click as to what he’s talking about. Hoseok is concerned that you may have been raped for your first time.

Smiling at him gently, you squeeze his hands and shake your head. “No, no baby. Please don’t think that, I swear. It was consensual. I wasn’t that drunk. Just...enough to let me get over my worries. I needed the alcohol for the confidence and the lights off. I remember it all though. He wasn’t good but he wasn’t mean or anything either.”

His worry seems to decrease a little, shoulders lowering as he lets out a deep breath and you marvel for a moment that you’ve found someone who gets worried about things like that. Things that you hadn’t even bothered to properly consider. If you hadn’t been completely sure in the knowledge of your first time then you’d be concerned as well.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cheek affectionately before grinning at him and cupping his chin. “Thank you for being concerned about me though. I promise, I’ve never been forced into anything like that. I may not have enjoyed a lot of sex but I did it openly in the hopes of it getting better.”

Hoseok’s cheeks flush ever so slightly and you laugh sweetly, kissing his lips quickly before shifting back. Leaning against the couch sideways, you let your head flop onto the back and smile at him.

“So, yeah. That’s why I have no pictures of me from being a teenager. If you thought I don’t like being photographed now, then you’d be shocked to see me back then.” There’s a moment where Hoseok is stiff, unsure of what to do before he smiles back and shifts into a similar position, his head closer than you might have anticipated.

But you get the sense that he’s a little uncertain of how to proceed now.

So you make the move for him, gently pushing at him until he’s laying on the couch. The L-shape means he’s at the point the two halves connect, one half completely free except for Kasumi stretched out. But you want the safety and security of his body. Not only for yourself, but also to comfort him. Even if he hasn’t said it, you can tell he’s a little unsettled by your negative feelings towards yourself.

Hoseok let’s you move him with ease, smiling happily when you get yourself settled and comfortable. His natural scent is strongest at the base of his neck, and you inhale it happily while your arm rests over his waist. Even if you’d talked about your deep and painful teenage years as willingly as you could to him, it was still traumatic to remember. And you needed your own comfort to assure yourself that those years were over.

“Well, I don’t think you’d have wanted to meet teenage Hoseok. So it's probably a good idea we never knew each other.” Humming, you recall all the times Hoseok has told you about his own teenage years. Unlike you, he was much more open about them. Mainly because he acknowledged how bad he’d been.

“I doubt it would have mattered anyway. From what I’ve learnt from you, teenage Hoseok wouldn’t have given me one look. Nevermind two looks.” There’s a brief pause and you feel Hoseok’s chest rise as he goes to respond. He stops though and you chuckle, running your fingers along the soft material of his shirt over his stomach.

“...you might have got one look. I mean, I’ll be honest. I wasn’t exactly picky but that’s not a good thing. Just means I was an out of control teenager. Besides, it sounds like you were very shy and quiet. I was...not. Loud, brash, abrasive. Often drunk and high. God, I was terrible. I don’t know how my parents put up with me, honestly. I wouldn’t have wanted you to meet me. I’d have just hurt you even more.” Humming, you wiggle against him slightly and kiss his neck gently.

“I’m glad we met when we did. I think we’d both had enough time to grow and accept ourselves. There’s no way I would have reached out to you if I was still like my teenage self. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have said yes if you’d been like you were.”

“True. Three cheers for maturity! But on a more serious note; I’m glad you’ve told me. I figured there was something along those lines after all these months but...I understand more now. I hope I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed.” Closing your eyes, you nuzzled closer to him while shaking your head.

“You haven’t. At least, not through anything you’ve done. It’s mostly been in my head. If anything...you’ve helped me to grow and become more...loving of myself. Just you accepting me has helped so much for my mind to understand that...well, I’m not ugly or anything. That you’re not judging me. And that you actually find me attractive. It’s a slow process.” You feel the press of Hoseok’s soft lips against your forehead, their warmth resting there for a few moments while the arm wrapped around you gently runs along your arm.

The very fact that you can talk with him like this is pure proof of the growth you’ve experienced over almost a year and a half with Hoseok. Just his welcome acceptance and love of you has created a safe space for you to explore yourself and grow comfortable in your own skin and mind. It was nice.

“I’m glad. And if I ever do anything that’s wrong, then please tell me. The last thing I want is to be an asshole by accident. Or remind you of a bad time.” Laughing gently, you smile and nod before tightening your arms around his waist fondly. 

“I mean...I’m still considering the whole lingerie thing. Especially those super revealing ones. I’d love to wear one but I just...don’t think I look sexy in them.” Pouting, you shift as Hoseok moves until he’s looking at you with wide eyes that quickly become stern. Poking your cheek gently, he tuts.

“I’m not gonna push you into that, but there’s literally no way you wouldn’t look sexy wearing black lace lingerie. Oh god. Just the thought of you in it makes me hard. But for now, I’m content with my mind for that.” The way he presses his hips against you lets you know that he’s being truthful, the mental image of you in the lingerie you’d bought on a whim the other month causing the erection that presses against you.

Grinning, you push at him until he’s laying back again and crawl on top of him, raising your brows. “I think you just get horny at the thought of sex full stop.”

“Well...duh. I’m a man. With a beautiful girlfriend. Whom I enjoy sex with.” Laughing loudly, you lean down and kiss his nose playfully. The whine he lets out when he tries to follow you for a proper kiss causes you to grin as you press at his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Glad to hear it.”

[pregnant-piggy]

Oliebollen

Remus Lupin x reader

this is written for All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

words: 1.3k

A/N: for the people who don’t know what oliebollen are, it’s something that Dutch people eat at new year’s eve. It’s sort of a doughnut but in the shape of a ball and tastes different. Great explanation, Dev... Anyway maybe the fic will explain it better!

‘Remus, come look! My aunt sent me the recipe!’

You stood in the kitchen of your little cottage with a letter in your hand. Outside the wind was howling around the trees, playing with the very few leafs that were left. The skies outside were dark and it looked like it could rain any minute.

After some stumbling from upstairs, Remus entered the kitchen curiously. After you had told him about the traditional Dutch food your aunt used to make for New Years, he had been so curious that you had sent a letter to your aunt to send you the recipe of the so-called ‘oliebollen’.

Now you had gotten a letter back and after a detailed description of her Christmas was the recipe. It had been a long time since you had helped her made the oliebollen, but as you read the recipe memories of sticky batter and hot boiling oil came back to you.

Remus looked over your shoulder at the piece of paper in your hand and you could sense how he was raising his eyebrow. You turned around to him as he read the last lines.

‘It’s kind of like doughnuts, isn’t it?’ he asked, scanning the paper again.

You nodded and gave the paper to Remus while you searched for the ingredients. ‘Kinda, but it tastes completely different. And looks different,’ you said, looking for the yeast in the top cabinet over the sink. ‘Where’s the yeast? I really thought I bought it.’

Remus chuckled and stood behind you. He rested his hands on your hips while he looked over your head in the cabinet. Your back was pressed against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat through his jumper. He stood on his toes and the grip on your hips got harder.

‘It’s in the far back,’ he said and let go of you. You leaned on the counter with both your hands and lifted yourself to your toes. The yeast was in the right corner of the cabinet, hidden half behind a container of flour.

Once all the ingredients were weighed and stood ready for use on the counter, it was time to start on the oliebollen. The whole kitchen was filled with pots and there was not much room to actually work on the counter, but the sphere in the kitchen was cosy. Soft tunes of old music sounded from the radio in the windowsill. It had started to rain outside and little drops stuck to the glass of the window, racing to get to the bottom first.

‘Mix the yeast and sugar in the milk and let it rest for a few minutes.’

Remus added the little yeast and sugar into a bowl of milk and stirred so the dry ingredients were absorbed by the milk. The milk turned a little darker in colour and miniscule brown flakes floated in the bowl.

‘Sieve the flour and add a pinch of salt,’ you said and Remus followed your instructions. ‘Next add the milk with yeast and sugar to the flour and mix to a sticky batter.’

Little lumps of flour and milk formed as soon as the milk was added to the bowl with flour. With a spoon the batter was mixed until all the lumps had disappeared and the batter stuck to the spoon. The stuff was all over Remus’ fingers when he tried to clean the spoon and you giggled as you watched him trying to get rid of the batter.

‘Well you try it!’ he cried out when he noticed your snickers. ‘It won’t let go!’

You smiled and took the spoon from Remus. You dipped it in some flour and then scraped the leftover batter from his fingers. Because of the flour the batter didn’t stick to the spoon and it fell into the bowl. Remus looked impressed at you and you shook your head.

‘I’ve done this before, darling,’ you said and pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek. ‘Okay, what’s next?  Add one egg and mix till smooth.’

Remus cracked an egg on the side of the bowl and added it to the batter. After a few minutes of intensive mixing the batter was smooth and soft. The light smell of the yeast and flour with the milk and eggs took you back to when you were younger and you used to make oliebollen with your aunt.

‘Cover the bowl with a damp dishtowel and let it rest for an hour until it has grown twice in size.’

While the batter rested in the windowsill you cleaned the kitchen. While you got rid of the flour on the counter, Remus put on a kettle for tea. The sound of the water slowly boiling accompanied by the sound of the rain hitting the window was the only sound in the kitchen.

- - - - - - 

After an hour the batter had grown so much it had reached the dishtowel. If you pushed your finger into the bump that it had formed, the batter bounced back lightly and stuck to your finger.

A pot of hot oil had already been set on the fire. The oil was boiling hot and little bubbles rose to the surface on occasion. You dipped two spoon into the oil and took a scoop out of the bowl with batter. For as much as was possible with two spoons, little balls were formed that were then dropped into the hot oil. It sizzled and bubbled and the ball dropped to the bottom, only to come back to the surface after a while. You waited until one side was golden brown and then you flipped the oliebol in the oil, letting the other side get brown too. Once both sides were equally golden you took the ball out of the oil and let it rest on a plate covered with a sheet of kitchen paper, that absorbed some of the excessive oil.

It looked quite simple, but the execution proved different. Remus struggled and the first ball he made was more of a misshapen lump, but it was brown on all sides. At the next one you took his hands and helped him with the balls, just like your aunt had done when you had been a kid.

It took four weird shaped oliebollen for Remus to finally get the tactic, but in the end he managed to do just fine and his final ones even looked like yours.

‘I told you you could do it!’ you exclaimed happily as he put the final oliebol on the plate. Remus smiled blushingly at you and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You nuzzled your nose in his neck and the scent of frying oil and oliebollen took you back to your younger years.

‘How long does it take before this smell gets out of the house?’ Remus asked as he opened a window. You sat down on a chair and shrugged.

‘Usually a few days, but we should keep the door closed if we don’t want the smell in the rest of the house.’

Remus sat down next to you and sighed content. All over his jumper were stains and smudges of flour. There was even a smudge on his cheek. You chuckled and wiped the flour off his face.

‘Come on, let’s taste one,’ you said and took two of the misshapen oliebollen. The ball was crunchy on the outside and moist on the inside.

It was silent in the room as you and Remus ate the oliebollen. Only after you finished you spoke again.

‘I like them,’ Remus said and he nodded approvingly.

‘They might look like turds, but taste delicious,’ you said and smiled at Remus. ‘Not bad for an amateur.’

- - - - - - - - - 

taglists

General HP: @kitkatkl​ @girllety​ @yuptha-tsme​ @sleep-i-ness​ @iamak20​ @thefuturelawyer​ @weasleydream​ @missmulti​ @deafgirltingz​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @mytreec​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @emmaloo21​ @kashishwrites​ @ananad1​ @figlia--della--luna​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @mrs-malfoy-always​ @thefandomplace​ @magicwithaknife​ @mt2413​ @aesthetically-hailey​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @the-natureofme​ @missswriter​ @hahee154hq​ @chloer1275​

Marauders: @secretsthathauntus​ @ronniethelost​ @hxrgreeves​ @wecouldbreakthedistance​ @valentina-007​ @aspiringsloth20​

Remus Lupin: @racerparker​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual

MASTERLIST

[fandom-necromancer]

Don’t feel lonely

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Seep well, love‘, Nines whispered, kissing Gavin’s forehead, who looked up at him with a lopsided smirk. ‘Sappy bastard.’ Nines huffed and looked back at his human. He wished more than anything else to join him under the blanket, but until Officer Keith had recovered from surgery, he was covering the nightshifts. What meant he had to leave when Gavin went to bed and they had little time for each other. Nines hated it. But he couldn’t really complain when his only argument was wishing to spend more time with his husband. He threw him one last gentle smile, before pulling the door close until it was left ajar just right for the cats to enter. He petted them on his way out and took Gavin’s motorcycle to drive to work.

It was weird to see the precinct relatively empty. Of course, there were always people around, but less so than during the day. He sat down at his station and started up his own terminal, its hum sounding so differently now that Gavin’s computer wasn’t running. He looked up to the other desk, while the terminal built up the connection. When was the last time they hadn’t worked together? Nines supposed it was Fowlers doing synchronising their schedule. It was cruel to say the Detective had become more docile, but RK900 had to admit, Gavin did work better with him around. How much could change when a person felt appreciated…

Nines sighed thinking about how Gavin was at home, sleeping. Would he be able to sleep? He shook his head at the thought. Gavin was a grown man who could fend for himself, his independent lifestyle one of the qualities Nines appreciated greatly. But he remembered the nightmares. If anything, he didn’t want the man to feel lonely ever again. Gavin was his. His human, his partner, his love, his everything. He had given him so much and- That was when he had an idea for a solution. Maybe there was a way to let Gavin know that even if they didn’t see each other as much. With a grin, Nines allowed the terminal to establish the readied connection.

-

When Gavin woke up, the first thing he felt for was Nines. Only to realise that – right – Nines was at work. He sighed, turning back around and sitting up. He rubbed his eyes and chuckled to himself. ‘Well, that was fast. Not a day passed, and you already miss the damn tin-can.’ He stood up and got ready for work, making himself a sandwich and holding it in between his teeth as he hurried outside calling an automated Taxi and then texting Nines. >Hey >Leave the bike for me in the parking lot got you a taxi dipshit Of course, darling< The answer was immediate and Gavin smiled. Oh, that android was insufferable.

He met Nines in the hallway. He handed Gavin the keys for his bike and used the contact to pull him into a close hug. ‘A few new clues from forensics came in. I looked them over, some could be related to your hunch.’ ‘Noted, toaster’, Gavin laughed and freed himself. ‘See you in eight hours!’ ‘I’ll wait for you.’ ‘Alright.’

They parted ways and Gavin continued walking inside. He reached his desk after waving Tina goodbye too and sat down. On autopilot he hit the switch of his computer and frowned when his fingers scratched against paper. He bowed down and pulled off the sticky-note, reading it while his other hand completed the task. I love you. Underneath there was a little heart. ‘This goddamn toaster’, Gavin swore, but stuck the note to his pinboard nonetheless, only then returning to work.

-

Nines sat on the sofa when Gavin came home, waiting for him as promised. ‘Hey, you romantic idiot, I’m back home!’ ‘Oh, so you got my note?’, Nines asked. ‘Yeah. Thanks, I hate it.’ ‘Come on, you love it.’ ‘You’ll never get me to admit that’, Gavin smirked and stepped closer, letting himself fall down next to him. Nines laughed and just wordlessly snuggled closer.

‘Nines. What’s that?’, Gavin asked after a few minutes of them silently just sitting there. ‘Flowers’, the android answered without opening his eyes. ‘I see that. Why are there flowers on the coffee table?’ ‘They are decorative and a sign of affection.’ ‘They are blocking the view of the television.’ Nines laid a hand on his cheek and pulled his face to his own. ‘We are not watching television right now’, he just said and kissed him until Gavin’s stomach started to grumble for food.

-

That evening, Nines had been extremely cuddly, not that Gavin had complained. Well, he had, but he didn’t mean it, it was just out of habit and the android understood that. They had stayed in bed until it was time for him to leave for work again and Gavin tried to fall asleep.

The next morning, he didn’t leave the house before walking over to the flowers and admiring them. They were his favourite colours and smelled wonderful. Wherever Nines had found flowers that early in the morning, Gavin did appreciate the gesture. When he put on his jacket and searched in the pocket for his keys, he instead found a note again. Left you the bike today. Try to drive safely for once. Love you. Gavin resisted the urge to crumble it to a ball in his hand annoyedly. It was a small gesture that was so soft, so incredible Nines. And he wasn’t a moody brat anymore, he knew Nines really meant these things. So, he took the effort to neatly fold it and put the note in his wallet before opening the garage.

Arriving at work, it was Gavin’s turn to hand over the keys and on top of it, he tiptoed to kiss Nines, who hadn’t anticipated that at all. Before he could comment on that though, Gavin had already skipped on, waving and calling back: ‘Greet the cats for me!’ At his desk, another sticky-note was waiting for him already. Can’t wait till you get home. And a little comic cat underneath. One for the pinboard he immediately decided. Only then he started up his computer and opened a drawer to get out his pen and a bit of paper to take more messy notes of how the newest evidence might be connected to their case. If he’d come that far. On top of his notebook, a chocolate bar was lying. His favourite sort on top of that. Gavin sighed and took it out, looking over to Nines’ desk. This goddamn lovelorn… dork. How he managed to have someone like him fall in love with someone like him… Well, it was a prove miracles did happen.

Gavin didn’t know whether Nines had left these gifts because he felt lonely, or because he didn’t want him to feel lonely. Either way, he decided he would have to do his part. Nines had made the effort, it was only fair to give something back. So, he spent his day figuring out how to while scanning pictures and comparing them with others.

-

Nines once again was waiting for Gavin at home. Only that now he was waiting with food and he could keep it warm only for so long. Had something happened at work? A call to a new crime scene maybe? But Gavin would have texted him if he knew he would be coming late. Maybe he was stuck in traffic? The moment his pre-constructions started to drift off to more serious possibilities, the doorbell rang. He left the stove alone for a while and opened only to see Gavin holding a package of blue cookies out to him.

Nines frowned but took it while Gavin squeezed himself through the gap to get out of his jacket and shoes. ‘Gavin, what’s this about?’ ‘Got your messages, toaster.’ Nines turned around and closed the door. ‘Are you bribing me to stop?’ Gavin laughed and again dove in for a kiss. ‘Idiot. I love you. I love this. Would love it far more if you were by my side again, but if it has to be this way…’ ‘Yes?’ ‘If it has to be this way, then I’m returning the gesture. Love your goddamn overly romantic heart. Still don’t know how you fell for me, but I’m keeping you now you oversized calculator!’ He hugged the machine close and Nines grinned holding him. ‘Your spaghetti will get cold.’ ‘Then let it get cold, I’m not moving.’

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker-Europe (1/2)

Requested by @elyonsstuff​, hope you like it! It was too long, so I divided it into two parts.

Plot: Europe is being great, and it would be even greater if Peter could just follow his plan.

To say that Peter was stressed was an understatement.

His bowtie felt too tight around his neck; and he had wore it more than one night before. Tony always made him dress up for the special events they went together, and he had never felt the cloth that itching. His hair, definitely had too much gel in it from his relentless effort in trying to get it to stay put. And he didn’t want to think about his face, or about the big, impossible to cover pimple he had gotten on his chin that morning.

“You look like a mess, man” Ned said from the other side of the room. Peter turned away from the mirror and sighed, glancing down at his tux.

“You really think it’s that bad?” he gestured to himself, and Ned looked up from his phone where he had been texting Betty the entire time Peter had been getting ready.

He swallowed down the remark about his friend, because even if it was true that Ned was a little too invested in the relationship, he was happy, and Peter cheered that.

“Not the suit, that looks nice. It’s just…”Ned made a vague gesture to his hair. “You probably have a whole bottle of get in there”

“Do I shower again and wash it out?”

“What time is it?”

Peter glanced down to the clock May had given him before he left for Europe. She had said it belonged to his uncle Ben, and he was glad he was able to wear it. Along with the glasses Tony had left him, he felt like he had a whole armour against his anxiety and shyness. Neither of them were working that night.

He had plenty of time, but Ned hadn’t even started getting ready yet and probably needed to use the shower.

“Just use the sink” Ned said, going back to his typing. “Hang from the ceiling or something”

“Hang from the – Ned, are you listening to me?!”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he was panicking. It was the night he decided he was going to do it. Originally, he had wanted to do it at the top of the Eiffel tower, but Nick Fury had ruined those plans quite nicely. The next day, Peter had his mission to fight the monster with Mysterio; so it was the only time to do it.

After the convention, when everyone would be dressed up, he would take you somewhere quite and tell you. And if everything went well, you would tell him you liked him too… hopefully. When he thought about it, doubts filled Peter’s mind; and he missed the most Tony, calming those thoughts away.

“Dude, it’s just a convention meeting” Ned then put his phone down and raised his eyebrows at Peter.

“It’s just, it has to be perfect Ned. I’ve planned it out and if everything goes right, I’m gonna tell Y/N how I feel after the convention” he said. It sounded scarier once he was saying out loud, and he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants.

“I’m sure everything will turn out great, just…” he paused and tilted his head. “Loosen your bowtie and brush some of that gel out of your hair. Y/N will like you better if you aren’t so stiff.”

“Right, not so stiff” Peter repeated as he pulled at his bowtie, moving it so it wasn’t choking him so much.

“And maybe we can go on a double date sometime!” Ned exclaimed excitedly, turning back to pick up his phone again to text Betty”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I don’t even know if Y/N likes me back” Peter bit his lip and pulled out his comb from his suitcase.

“Dude, she definitely does, it’s obvious” Ned scoffed. “Trust me, I can read women. I connect with Betty as if we were soulmates”

Ned didn’t wait to listen to his answer as he jumped and pulled his suit off the hanger in the closet. Peter rolled his eyes and forced the comb through his hair, which was very difficult considering the amount of hair get he had put in.

Everything would turn out perfect.

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

“C’mon boys!” Mr. Harrington called though their doors as he knocked. “We’ve got places to go! People to see!”

Peter took a deep breath, straightening his jacket. He had sent a picture to May to see if he looked good enough, and she had called him crying because ‘oh, how my baby has grown’. He pulled the door open and held it for Ned before walking out, no turning back then.

They walked down the stairs where everyone would be meeting. Peter scanned the room and immediately noticed that you hadn’t come down yet. Again, he messed with his suit.

Then, you came down the stairs.

Peter felt like he lost all circulation when he saw you. You were walking down with one of your friends, laughing and moving your hands around. His mouth opened and closed a few times, feeling like, behind you, were the gates of heaving and the sun was shining above you.

Probably a little bit of an overreaction, but he didn’t see it that way.

“Whoa” Ned muttered out. “I’ve never seen her in, you know, makeup and stuff. Not as good as Betty, though”

Peter tried to respond, but felt like he was frozen in place; maybe dead. Honestly, he might had been dead for all he cared. He ignored Ned’s remark and kept staring at you, knowing he should stop because he didn’t want you to be weirded out.

He just couldn’t.

“Hey! Are we the last ones?” you said as you walked up to them, Betty hot on your trail. Your dress was blue, and your lipstick red. And it was long, though he could see your converse peeking out from underneath.

The fact that those were the colours of his suit only made it better.

“Y/N, you look really good” Brad said, suddenly beside Peter, and he felt his heart fall to his feet. For the whole trip, he had been after you; and Peter was starting to found it annoying.

The teenager held his arms open, as if he was waiting for a hug.

“Uh, thanks Brad. My mom bought me this back home, and I guess this is the best time to wear it” you shrugged, ignoring Brad’s outstretched arms, and turned back to Peter and Ned.

“You do look really good, Y/N” Ned said, and Peter still couldn’t find any words.

“Thanks Ned, you don’t look bad your-“

“But I mean, Betty, you look outshining”

It was the kind of compliment Peter whished to make. He wanted to say how everyone just disappeared when you were in the room, but he just managed to nod at you and smile shyly while Ned and Betty had a war about who was more pretty. It went on for a while, until they decided it was too much for their surroundings, and they left; although that time Pete would have preferred to listen to them rather to the awkward silence that followed their absence.

“You cleaned up nice” you said, and gave him a small smile that made his heart flutter.

Peter forced himself to cough, and out of the trance he had fallen into.

“You look really pretty” he sounded chocked, and he was not coming off cool at all.

“Thanks, Pete. You could just take a picture and stare, so you don’t have to stare at me the rest of the night” you said sarcastically, giving him a friendly punch in the arm for good measure. It ended to come out as a joke, to break the silence, but by the way he reddened you knew for him it wasn’t like that.

“Oh, uh, s – sorry” he immediately looked down and started playing with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“I was kidding” you said softly.

You stepped a bit closer to lower your head and meet his eyes; at the same time he looked forward, and your noses touches. It seemed like you were frozen in that moment. His fingers moved slightly, itching for your hand. He could smell your vanilla perfume. It was nice. Maybe it was the perfect moment for –

“Y/N!” Brad’s voice made you both jump back. Peter coughed loudly and swallowed, trying to regain his composure. “Do you want to walk together to the convention?”

“Um” you looked at Peter, and raised your eyebrow slightly as if you were waiting for him to do something; and of course, he was frozen. You sighted and looked back at Brad. “Sure”

Peter watched as you walked out together, Brad’s hand settling down with yours and pulling you closer to him; what he probably should be doing. He turned around to find Ned and Betty walk past him, deep in conversation.

“C’mon Peter! The world awaits!” Mr Harrington said, pushing Peter forward and out the door.

He felt sick as he walked behind the group, and seriously thought about just chicken away. He watched as you and Brad joked in the front, how Ned and Betty giggled in front of him, and he almost cried.

So busy drowning in his own pity, he didn’t notice you glancing back at him with sad eyes.

Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash​

@lexxxistrips​

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter: An oxidising dream of a world (Part 4)

Warnings: none

Author notes: some angsty fluff before getting back to full angst...

"Those leaves are particular. Will you believe we could find their location with those leaves, stuck onto their soles?" Dazai laughed as he revealed the location of Mimic's headquarters to Oda.

The men had left, as well as Akutagawa, and only I remained by my executive's side. I should have been more cheerful, for he did not seem to be angry against me, yet, I could not help the clench of my fists and the tight feeling in my chest. This one mission... I had failed it.

"Don't take unnecessary risks and wait for us, Odasaku." He said before hanging up "Let's go back Ogawa, we must think about our next step."

"Yes, Dazai..." I mumbled without much enthusiasm.

"Why didn't you shoot earlier?" He questioned me, walking toward the exit "Akutagawa-kun spoiled your mission, he spat on your hard work. Why didn't you shoot?"

"That is..." My hands trembled "I do not... I could not kill him..."

"You killed your parents." He stated, coldly.

"It was different... I was immature, only sought revenge and acted on a whim. Today, Akutagawa has faulted, but I do not believe he deserved death for his mistake. Moreover, as I have said..." I looked up at him "It was not my place to punish him... I apologise if my behaviour displeased you, Dazai..."

"No... It's fine..." He sighed "To be honest, I... Was relieved that you did not shoot... That's all..."

"Is that so...?" I cracked a weak smile "Relieved...?"

"If you had obeyed me, I would have been disappointed." He admitted "You have grown to control your emotions and would not take a life unless for your duty. Besides, if Akutagawa-kun had survived, he would have held a grudge against you and you could have been hurt afterwards."

"I see... I understand..."

"You do not seem pleased by my words. What is it that bothers you, Ogawa?"

"Why..." I started, clenching my fists "It was a mission you entrusted me with... Although it is not the first, I have failed it..."

A shameful sob escaped my throat right after, and I covered my mouth not to let any other take the better of me. But I could not help the tears which poured onto my cheeks. I was so disappointed in myself, so disappointed I could not have ended the mission properly, so disappointed someone had come and destroyed my work. It was all too normal that I expected Dazai to be disappointed as well, and it scared me to suffer from his disappointment, which could easily turn into anger, annoyance and violence. I did not want to live any of those anymore, thus could not hold my fear back. This lack of courage to assume my own responsibilities was also pretty disappointing.

"You failed it." He simply stated, his eyes focused on a stray cat walking in the alley.

The three doomed words were a heavy burden for my frail shoulders, but the remaining dignity in my mind refrained me from crouching down to cry like a little girl.

"I'm sorry, Dazai... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I chanted the familiar apology, almost out of reflex, even though I had promised not to be frightened by him "I'm so —"

"Those are not the words I want to hear!" He cut me, grabbing my right wrist violently "I know you are sorry! You're always sorry, for yourself, for the henchmen, for me! Why don't you stand tall and strong? Look up and say you'll do better next time! What's so complicated about it...?!"

"I-I cannot —"

"Say it!!" He insisted harshly.

I tried to avoid his look, but was powerlessly drawn to his single, shining eye. There was no trace of anger, nor disappointment. I could not read this peculiar emotion I saw, but there was something encouraging in the way he looked at me. Crying never solved any trouble... I knew so, yet tears were always so quick to come. Sniffing, I used my sleeves to wipe my tears away, and cleared my throat.

"I... Failed this time..." I started, very hesitantly "But I will... Do better next time... If you will give me another chance..."

"I will give you another chance." He sighed, letting go of me "Obviously I will, for, although you failed, it was not your fault and there was nothing you could have done to help it... Moreover, it isn't as if you have never succeeded in any other mission..."

I rubbed my bruised wrist, uncomfortably staring at the dirt on the ground. He had done it. He had laid a hand onto me. Oh, I did not want to look up and see guilt upon realising it, in the one eye which was not covered by bandages... It was my fault, too... If I had not been so stupidly overwhelmed by my emotions... I flinched when I felt his hand onto my head, and looked up at his slight smile, sensing his clumsy but gentle touch through my hair. I cracked a smile too, a relieved and sincere one of genuine joy, in return to his.

"Does this mean... I escaped the hostess outfit?" I asked rather playfully.

"It seems you did." He chuckled "Let's reach Odasaku, okay? Or he'll do something stupid again."

"Yes, Dazai." I nodded.

When we made it to the abandoned observatory which was used by Mimic as a hideout, it was already being eaten by a violent fire, and the numerous scraps and pieces of materials shattered around the place suggested the building had been blown up before we could arrive. Oda...! Was he still alive...? The same question surely crossed my superior's mind, because his lips were tightly pursed, his eyes scanning our surroundings as if looking for something — looking for his friend.

"I will —"

"Let's all of us go." He cut me "I don't want to lose any member of my squadron tonight, and will not take the risk to part. After me."

I obediently followed his surprising orders, his troupes too, but it was so unusual for him to care so much about mere cannon fodder, as the Port Mafia considered subordinates, that it felt odd to us all.

"I think he did not die." I told Dazai, wanting to sound reassuring.

"But he could be hurt."

"Even so, he would be alive." I looked away "Is that not important...?"

"Both are. I'd like him to be unharmed and undead, if I may say." He shrugged.

The laying body of his friend was on display before our eyes, and before my superior could even react to it, I had rushed toward Oda. I crouched next to him and carefully turned him onto his back. I took a breath. I did not want Dazai to worry and do that himself... I did not want to see him ever lose his cold composure that felt so reassuring, in a way... I brought my index and middle fingers to Oda's vessels, located under the skin of his neck, and checked his blood pressure. Weak, but there. He was alive...! A quick check around his nose revealed a faint breathing too, but his palm had a weird colour...

"He is still alive." I said when my executive came in front of me "Hurt, surely poisoned, but alive."

"I see... Thank you. Let's bring him back."

"Yes, Dazai-san. He needs urgent care..." I agreed, helping him pick Oda up.

[bangtanmythology]

In The Name Of Song. Discovery.

About: Y/N finally finds out her own story, it’s completely different to what she expected and she learns there may be a reason she loves the water so much. Oh, and she meets her true family.

Brother!Jimin x Reader. Jin x Reader. BTS x Reader.

Words:2.1K

Previous Part: New Beginning.

Next Part: Truth Uncovered

Drip

Drip

Drip

The sound felt cold, the ripples repeating themselves over and over, the droplets falling a few meters from your head. Your body was shivering, and you were covered in a gooey sheen, like that of a scaly fish. Your whole body shivered as a breeze crossed your skin and it made tiny lumps appear all over you. You groaned at the sensation in your legs, pain, fire, you couldn’t move them, sure you had feeling but they weren’t moving. They felt stuck. You could smell the sea. A smell you had grown accustomed to, a smell you were familiar with, a smell that reminded you of your dad.

“He’s not your dad.”

Your eyes shot open, your head shooting over to the sound of the voice. The guy was here again, Yoongi you recalled him telling you. There was another man right beside him, half his body inside the water. You peaked around, you were in a cave of sorts, beautiful lights and streaks bouncing off the wall from the bright pool of turquoise water that the man was half submerged in. There were large rocks scattered across the cave, many in weird patterns, almost like a place of gathering. Your eyes focused down onto your legs as you sat up, they weren’t stuck. They were bruised and they had harsh cuts and grazed all over them. 

“Don’t worry, that won’t happen every time, only the first few, when my tail first came through, I was like that too.” His voice was soft and soothing, a cheeky, playful glint to it that matched the toothy smirk set upon his handsome face. His cheeks were round and full, yet his face was defined and well-shaped. A toned abdomen peaked out over the rock he was leaning on, bright green eyes the colour of a bright emerald stared straight at your eyes. His brown hair whipped back to perfection, despite it looking as though it was soaked in the water, he was standing in. Your eyes scanned down his chest, to his hips. A gasp caught in your throat, eyes widening as one word left your lips.

“Scales”

He had emerald scales protruding from his skin, they weren’t stuck on, they were coming from inside of him. His skin was pink surrounding the scales, shining as the reflections in the cave bounced off him and straight into your eyes. He lifted himself out of the water, turning his body sideways, his arms and chest flexing into taught muscle as he sat upon the rock. Your brain span and you felt as though maybe the hallucinations you had been experiencing previously were now very much back. He had a tail. A large, emerald, real tail. Not a dog’s tail, or a monkey’s tail. A fish. A mermaid? Merman? You felt sick to your stomach, a gag escaping your throat as you laid back down quickly.

“Wow, I didn’t know I was that vile to look at, I mean seriously, come on.” His voice again was playful and soft, a couple octaves higher than Yoongi’s. He was approaching you and soon you could see his shadow over your face. Your eyebrows furrowed together. If he had a tail how was he stood over, you? Your eyes looked to the floor beside you, human feet directly next your head, tan skin with some old scars and short toes within touching distance. Your eyes trailed up, human calves, more scars. Human thighs, a large knife print like scar with a slightly pink, shiny colouring too it prominent as his thigh flexed under your gaze. Human pe-

“Why are you naked!?”

You were screaming, covering your eyes and rushing to your feet shoving your body against the cave wall that was now behind you. You had seen naked men before, of course you had, but you didn’t expect your hallucinations to be this graphic and real and big.

“That’s quite a disturbing thought. He’s not a hallucination, none of this is.” Yoongi’s tone was sharp and you could tell frustrated, you stuck your hand out in front of you, perfectly covering the naked males lower body. A deep red tint warmed your chest and your cheeks as you looked between the two men.

“What thought? So she’s not as disgusted in me as she appeared to be huh?” The small tan male was laughing, a cute, melodic sound that brightened up his whole demeanour and if you hadn’t been so confused and lost and scared, it would have made you smile. Your eyes shifted back to Yoongi who was laying face up on some flat rocks on the other side of the cave, a grumpy look on his pale face.

“This isn’t real! You’re reading my thoughts, that’s not a real thing people do!”

Sure, you were shouting and your body was shaking but you weren’t angry, you were terrified. Fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Where am I? I want to go home, how did I get here?”

Maybe you weren’t imagining it, your pain felt very real, the beautiful lights and sounds inside the cave sounded real and that song, the same song from before was real.

“You’re the only one that hears that singing you know? Does that seem like it would be real to you? Jimin, touch her.” Yoongi sure was demanding, a gravelly voice that bounced off the walls and made your blood boil. The man in front of you, who was still naked, Jimin you assumed, walked straight up to you. He moved leisurely and relaxed like someone in their own home, comfortable and content with their place of residence. You tensed, uncomfortable that he was approaching you with no clothes on. He stopped a few steps before getting to you and reached his foot out, his toes prodding at the gashes on your left ankle.

“Ow, that hurts!” You quickly recoiled from his touch as him and Yoongi snickered. Your eyes went down to your cuts. They were fresh, some still bleeding slightly, some started to scab up, despite them looking like they had clearly been soaked in water.

“Hoseok took care of them, he covered them for you,” Jimin mumbled, sitting down on the floor next to you. You sighed and looked back around the cave; it seems like it really was real.

“So, you’re starting to believe, to answer your question, you’re not at home, you’re not even in the same reality as your family and your friends, not that you have many of those. You’re in my reality, the angel world, it’s like there was two earths, the one you lived on and the one you’re in now. Years pass here, for each year here a week passes in your world. So, it’s been two days since you’ve been here, only a few minutes on your world. Nobody will have noticed you gone yet. Of course, your parents know all about this, they were the ones that contacted me. Well, they’re not really your parents, they’re just there to pose as your parents, they took you in to protect you. When you we- “

“Yoongi, slow down, you’re not doing any good right now, she’s probably more confused.” Jimin was petting your hair, a weird gesture that made you even more uncomfortable.

“Well, maybe you should put clothes on, you’re making her uncomfortable.” Yoongi was sighing as he sat up, gripping some cloth in his hands which you assumed was clothes for Jimin. He threw it at him, hitting him square in the face. Jimin seemed to enjoy the banter immensely as he chuckled loudly, a high pitch sound breaking the serene waves and drips of the cave. He quickly shoved his legs into the pants of the sweatpants, and you sighed, finally relaxing a little more. He went straight back to petting your hair, a feeling that, had it been someone else, in a different situation then it would have been comforting.

“okay, I’ll explain slowly, but I’m only going to explain once. You were sick because you’re not human, in fact, the man sitting next to you right now is your biological brother, that might make you feel weird seeing as though you have just seen him butt naked. You’re like him, a mermaid, however there is a curse in your family, all your ancestors have it, but it only affects the females in your family. If Jimin has a daughter, she will inherit this curse. You’re cursed that should you ever fall in love with a human, he will perish, it’s the curse of the siren, your singing will draw them in, as a mermaid you will sing anyway, Jimin does, the singing draws large crowds, it make people intrigued, sometimes it makes people fall in love with him. Jimin has many broken hearts at his feet. The singing that you hear, its’s a song that’s trying to tempt you, it wants you to sing along. When you sing, you’re going to lure sailors, they’re going to fall in love with you and that will ultimately kill them. You’re destined to fall in love with something unnatural, inhuman, a monster. That will be your destiny, that is the curse, you cannot choose a normal life, a life without murder and mess and pain.”

His voice was sombre, yet his eyes once again held that gleam that indicates he was enjoying the things he was saying. Jimin continued to rake his fingers through your hair, unknotting it as the water you had previously been in had dried and clumped it together from the salt. You looked up at him,

“are you really my brother?” You whispered, he nodded, and you searched his face and eyes for a hint that he was lying to you, that this whole thing was a lie, a sick joke. He wasn’t, all that you could see, all that you could sense was honesty, care, love, admiration. There was sadness too.

“I’m sorry that we have this curse, mum and dad gave us up as soon as you were born, we share a family, our birth circumstances were strange. Mum fell in love with a merman, our dad, he knew about the curse, mum was cold hearted, she froze him out. He was madly in love with her, he was crazy about her. Dad died not long after that. So, you’re wondering how we were born. A reaper brought dad back, he brought him back as a sailor, reapers are not the bad people that fairy tales and folklore make them out to be. This reaper he could stop the curse, hold it for some years. Mum and dad fell in love again, they married, they had me. Mum and dad lived long enough to have you 6 years later but he died a few months before your birth. Mum couldn’t cope so she killed herself. We were sent to another reality, the one you’ve been living in, I was there too, of course I’m six years older and I’ve been in here since I was 18, which is about to be six years in a couple of weeks. The change doesn’t occur until you’re 18, it seems that you changed earlier than normal. So, Yoongi brought you here to be with me, I can teach you how to do everything.” Jimin was smiling kindly down at you. Everything was wrong. Everything was confusing. Yet it all felt true.

“Let me show you something.” Yoongi was smiling at you, a smile that was gummy and unexpected, he placed his hand on your forehead and watched as your eyes rolled back in your head.

“I’ll bring you back, you have 7 years to live with her, you can only live with her, as soon as you get back you need to marry, if you do not marry within a month of your return you will be gone forever and I will not be able to bring you back ever again. A year in you will birth a son, you must call him Jimin, in your final year she will become pregnant with a baby girl, you will never meet this girl, she must be named Y/N,”

The reaper was tall, his face dark and hollow, a black trench coat consuming his lanky figure.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“I’m not doing this for you, that woman has a curse, the curse was put in place by witches hundreds of years ago, witches were the greatest enemies of the reapers, they could cure people, heal them from death, they could put people close to death that were not supposed to be there. I’m simply doing this to spite them, and because my father seems to have been in a similar situation to you, and that cost him life.”

Everything was black, and then white, a bright, self-consuming light burst through every corner of the room.

“Y/F/N?”

A young woman with dark, soulless eyes gazed at the man that was now in the cave with her.

“I’m back, you won’t kill me for loving me this time.”

[malifikook]

College Fiasca

 what happens when a simple dare turns into something more?

 a/n: hi everyone! this happens to be my first proper fic; i was previously @starryblue08 but i got locked outta my acc :( anyways i hope you enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated :D

“Oi! You lot! Get moving!”

A chorus of frustrated groans and grumbles came before the lingering crowd set into motion, around the track that circled around the field, littered with runners and students jogging.

“Can you believe coach?” Your friend slowed down to your pace, her breath barely picking up as she rolled her eyes. “Rumour has it that him and mistress number five have broken up. Tragic, right?”

“Don’t make fun.” You chided but a laugh seemingly escaped you, looking ahead as you ran, inhaling in the crisp cold air and smiling. You loved this kind of weather. It was exactly what you needed after the stressful week of exams.

Coming to a stop when the burning in your lungs was too much, you gasped in lungfuls of air as you bent over, hands on knees and blinking.

“You good there, Y/N?”

A couple of your friends gathered around you and you blinked back black circles. Maybe it was the too tiny breakfast you had.

Pushing up, you gave them a broad smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

The laps had finished and coach had sent you all off to wash up. Crowded up near a bench, you sat with your head tilted back as you gulped down the fresh water. Popping it off, you gasped as you felt the clear aqua drip down your chin.

“Y/N! Look!” a hiss came in your ear and you turned your eyes to the direction of the pointing finger.

At the end of the finger was the perfectly chiseled body of Jeon Jeongguk’s, standing in all his post-run sweaty state, tilting his head back as he ran his hands through his hair, chest heaving as he inhaled in and exhaled slowly.

You ripped your eyes away and turned to look up at your friend innocently, ignoring the dangerous blush on your cheeks and cocked up an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Apparently he’s broken up with Lia.” She carried on, plopping down on the free area nearby you. “Do you think I should shoot my shot?”

The words he’s a human, not a game was on the end of your tongue, but you were wise enough to keep hush, so you snapped up your bottle and stood. “Sure. I’ll go change.”

While you slipped the sticky clothes off of your body, you thought back to Jeon. He certainly wasn’t your type-right? He was a player, a wet dream of every high school girl, no doubt. But you tried to weigh out the pros and cons. He most likely could not even know the difference between a stop sign and a go ahead sign. You had seen his car- a cherry red convertible. How he had that sort of money in college was beyond your reason.

You entertained the idea that he was a drug dealer the whole walk back out to your friends, and you found yourself smiling.

When you sat back down on the ground, you were easily absorbed in the game your friends had started, and you laughed. Were they really playing-

“Truth or Dare?”

You thought for a long moment before, “Truth.”

“Agh, spoilt sport.” Jean pouted but thought before asking, “You still a virgin?”

You pinked, jerking up in your seat and glancing down, picking at the edges of your bag’s rim. How on earth were you gonna reply to that?

“Oh my god!” She squealed. “My tiny baby! We need to get you out there and find a man! Oh my gosh, let’s see who you could fuck, hmm.”

“Whoa, wait-“ you protested, hands coming to gain her attention yet simultaneously hide yourself from all the other surprised stares from the other people around you. You felt your palms grow sweaty.

“Oh my god yes! I’ve got it!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” With coy eyes, she shrugged her narrow shoulders and turned her head, smiling mysteriously. “Who’s turn is it?”

The game continued, and you waited nervously for good reason, knowing that that flint in Jean’s eyes meant trouble.

And alas, the bottle landed again on you and Jean.

She glanced up, eyes shining and smile triumphant. “Ask Jeon Jeongguk to fuck you.”

“W-What?” Your voice picked up in a high pitch and you struggled to bring it down from all the weird gazes thrown around from the other players. You spoke in a hushed whisper, away from the other players, “Jean I don’t think-“

“You will do it, won’t you?”

The other players’ eyes care into your view and you gazed with wide terrified eyes at them all. Panic started to creep up your throat. Self Consciousness and Doubt slithered up your spine. All these eyes meant murmurs behind your back. 

You couldn’t have a repeat of last time.

Ripping your eyes away, you stumbled up to your feet.

Jean seemed to pick up your change in mood, eyes blinking up at the slight quiver of your lashes, and rose to say, “Hey look it’s okay-“

“It’s fine.” You said dismissively, slight bitterness creeping into your voice. “I’ll do your stupid dare.”

Being a new transfer student mid-college year was tough. With no one you knew, a whole new course that made you tug at your hair, and the oh too much free time you had made you feel extremely lonely. You had thought coming here would change your life for the better - yet you were still to see any changes.

You had found Jean in between classes on the floor, crying her eyes out. When you had loomed over her to ask if she was alright, through bleary eyes she had waved to the area nearby and had croaked out, “Come join me - I’m in the middle of my weekly crying sessions; it’s very therapeutic.”

It was safe to say you had grown to be close friends quite quickly. 

But still, you were only two months new to the school. Whereas Jean had a bunch of friends, your social circle was limited to two people: Jean, and the librarian Hana. She had no idea of your inner thoughts, of how hard you were on yourself, how destructive your mind could be. 

But then again, who’s fault was that that she had no idea about it?

Rubbing your hands into your jeans, you gulped as you stared at the crowd of boys nearby the targeted boy known as Jeongguk. The whoops behind you grew and you squeezed your eyes shut before inhaling.

It would be okay. He most probably would not even recognize you.

Taking tentative steps forward, you felt the anxiousness and nervousness creep up inside of you as the faces of the boys cleared and you scanned the number of boys. Six - was it six other boys?

Jeongguk had his back to you, proudly standing with a ball looped around his arm and pressed to his waist as his hip cocked out and he talked to the other boys who stared up at him.

You heard the bare sentence of, “…yeah it was a tough game, nearly lost it! But then Tae here came running in-“

“That’s hyung to you.” Another boy with floppy grey hair grunted, twisting the cap of a bottle open and chugging it down.

“Ah no need to ruin the fun.” Jeongguk’s arms lowered and you stared at the muscles moving in his shoulders underneath the fabric before shaking yourself and shuffling around.

You cleared your throat, heart pounding to your ears and against you fingertips.

It’s now or never.

“Excuse me?”

The same grey haired boy first met your gaze and you held it, nervously chewing on your lip.

He gave a soft smile, the green and black uniform doing his tanned skin justice. “Hi, can I help you?”

The other boys were absorbed in fighting with each other, loud and obnoxious as they created the loudest sounds on the field.

You winced and leaned away from the noise, glancing at the grey haired boy. “I’m looking for Jeongguk?”

The boy’s confused gaze cleared and somewhat flattened as he turned to the mess of the boys and called out, “Jeon, you’ve got company!”

Your heartbeat tripped and on impulse you gazed down at your hands and counted all fingers before looking up and sweeping your eyes to make eye contact with Jeon Jeongguk.

Oh fuck

He seemed prettier up close, with wide brown eyes and a nice jawline and bouncy, brown coloured hair. Though, contradicting his baby face was his well toned body that eagerly tried to distract you but you kept your eyes above shoulder level.

“Can I uh- help you?”

It was so clear he did not know you and you nearly squeezed your eyes shut; yet the burning gazes on your back made you wrench your eyes open. 

The dare, we have to ask him about the dare

So breathing in, you rushed out in one breath, “Ineedtotalkwithyoualone.”

He blinked, hands on his hips as he true to decipher the stranger in front of him. “Excuse me?” He glanced at Taehyung in hopes of his friend deciphering the jumbled up words.

“I’ll be over there.” The grey haired boy snorted and pointed to where the rest of the guys sat and strolled over to them, casually sitting on one jock’s lap whose jacket said JIMIN.

Jeongguk’s boring eyes turned to you, undivided attention making you squirm, and cocked his head to the side. “So? What is it?”

It was like a dam inside of you had broke.

“Look okay I know you don’t know me and I barely knew who you were until like a week ago, but see I have a bunch of people over there who-who started to play a round of Truth and Dare a-and god I know what you’re thinking like -Truth is Dare? Really? - even I thought that but I was there and they had already started playing and- and they asked me i..if i was a virgin and I couldn’t lie so i said yes and then they sent me out here to get you to mess around with me b-but look I would never! I’d-“

“Whoa whoa whoa!”

You broke off into a heaving breath when the pretty boy in front of you held his hands up and you ducked your head, pressing a hand to your head as you felt your cheeks heat up.

God you were such a klutz.

“That’s some dare.”

You picked up on the amusement in his voice and raised your head, eyebrows jumping up at the baby pink lips on his face grinning. “You alive, ma’am?”

You barely had time to process the meaning of the sentence before he said, “Well look I’m honoured but-“

“Oh my god no.” You interrupted him in realization. Running a hand through your hair. you gaped up at him. “Then when I go back they’ll ask me if I did it. I can’t go back looking like a fool.”

The anxiety trickled back into your bloodstream, the disappointed murmurs echoing in the back of your head,”Can’t even get a guy to sleep with her? Shame,” the lingering judging stares you’d have to bear. You had to think. Think fast.

You two stood there in silence for a second before you snapped your fingers. “Aha! Okay got it! You pretend to nod as if you’re agreeing to what I’m saying right now and then I’ll make a show of it as if we’ve sealed a deal and I’ll go back and-“

“Or-“

A deliberate step was taken towards you and you found the air around you filled with the scent of mandarins and sweat all at once. Jeongguk stood a step away from you, dressed in those darn black shorts and loose white shirt. He seemed to pull it off though, and you swallowed at the sight of him leaning forward to you.

“Or,” he repeated again, breath tickling your cheek. “We actually follow through with this dare.”

Your eyes widened inches as you stared up silently at the college boy in front of you. “Excuse me?”

But you had heard him, wide and clear. You couldn’t believe it. Was he being serious right now?

“Think about it.” His voice was soft, persuasive in a silky way. “You go back there pretending you got me to agree and everything’s fine until tomorrow comes and they ask you how the fuck is. D’you think you’ll be able to make something up babe?”

You’re breath hitched as his nose made contact with your skin and you felt goosebumps erupt all over your arms. Your hands fisted into your pants.

“But just imagine.” He was practically purring into your ears. “How it would be like, me touching you and fucking you right. You’d go back home wishing all the other guys you’d fuck would be as half as good as me.”

It should be disgusting. The way he whispered it so easily in your ears. But all you felt was the feel of his lips on your skin and hands barely brushing at your hair. The goosebumps that trickled over your skin gave your feelings away: but Jeongguk still smirked, asking,

“So, doll? What’ll it be?”

You felt too dizzy. Intoxicated with Jeongguk’s power. One minute he was standing boyishly with his friends and the next minute he was boring over you like a sex god.

“I don’t even know you.” The rational part of your brain garbled the sentence out.

Jeongguk’s breathy laugh came. “So? How does that matter? All that matters is the fuck no?” His hands danced at your collarbones. “And the feeling of winning that dare - we can’t forget that.”

An inner turmoil was twisting inside of you: it was so easy to see the reason as to why he agreed to easily - the guy just wanted to get laid, clean and simple, yet the idea of you being just another round of sex to him did not set easily with you. But you heard the curious murmurs from behind, cooing in pity that the new girl had been straight to swim with the sharks. The pride inside of you won the match.

“Okay.” You murmured, leaning and taking a step back. “Okay then, Jeon boy.”

He seemed to grin that boyish grin again, the wind fluffing his hair around. “Meet me in my car after school, yeah?”

The walk back to the group was a shaky one, the post excitement and adrenaline of being so close to a boy still flushed inside your veins.

“Omg what happened!” The girls cried out but Jean shoved her way through and asked with anxious yet curious eyes, “So? How’d it go?”

Picking up your gym back and shuffling it onto you shoulder securely, you gave her a curt, “Good,” before walking off the field to the building.

Just maybe you’d be able to change

The problem with having a grand exit was that sometimes you’d up being unprepared. And that’s exactly what you were.

Meet me in my car, was Jeongguk’s words and it would’ve been an easy thing to spot, if only you knew what car he drove. And where he’d parked.

As you wrapped up your bag when the lecture finished, you sighed in frustration while running a hand through your hair. You couldn’t concentrate at all, the teacher’s words muted as you were absorbed in your world, pen tapping against the table as you had stared at the ground in another world.

Was he really serious? This wasn’t some sort of joke, right?

But as you finally jumped down the stairs and entered the hallway, it finally dawned up you as everyone scattered to leave for home that Jeon Jeongguk, the most known guy on the campus was waiting for you.

And you really wished you weren’t in this situation, because as cliche and sweet it sounded, you kept thinking of the reason why he was waiting and it sent shivers down your back.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when applying for college.

Stepping out of the building into the cool air, you made up your mind. You’d step back up from this deal - you weren’t ready, no matter how cute Jeongguk looked. It would all finish in one night and the next day you’d come to school and have to ignore him, and that wasn’t something you wanted. You knew that having a cute, romantic first time was something that was a rarity these days, but you wanted to have your first time with someone you knew - someone who cherished you. Call it childish, maybe even impractical, but if there was one thing that was clear about you, it was that you stuck to your beliefs.

Swinging your head around, you pursed your lips in thought as you surveyed the courtyard before making way to the parking lot.

You’re bound to find him, right? Like how hard would it be?

Not a few minutes had passed after the thought had crossed your mind did you hear a roaring sound, a loud, startling sound that disrupted the silence of the lot, and your eyes were dragged to the source of the noise.

It was a convertible, the door of the sleek black car swung up and sitting inside was -

You breathed out a sigh of relief.

It was not, in fact, Jeongguk but one of his friends; you recognized his grey hair from before. He had one leg out and a hand gripping the door as he smiled a boxy smile at his other friends that were surrounded around him.

Your feet hesitated as you heard the laughter and shuffling of feet from the numerous of boys, their presence so loud and prominent, and you took it in - the number of eyes that wavered to the group, some people staring in awe and others in indifference.

A couple of the boys - one tall one with purple hair and another wearing a tuxedo - parted from the group, waving their hands before moving to their own cars which you noticed with a pinch of salt were also sports cars.

You were starting to feel a it irritated, really with yourself, as to why you couldn’t push yourself to go up to the group and call out Jeongguk, but right at that moment, the brown haired boy threw his head back in a laugh and when he came down with his eyes open and shifting around, he made contact with you.

It would be a lie if you said that hadn’t made a jolt go up your spin.

Glancing away, you feigned indifference as you rocked back and forth on your heels, gripping your phone in front of you tightly. Your heart must’ve been beating a race, tripping and picking up, as you felt a heat creep up your neck and make way to your cheeks.

Movement on the side of your vision showed that Jeongguk was saying his goodbyes to his friends, laughing a bit, before turning and making way to you and dear god if your heart wasn’t pounding.

“Hey.” He gave a smile, something akin to a grin, and picked his hand up and you reacted instantly, sticking your own hand out.

Silence erupted between you two before he let out a chuckle, gripping your hand and raising an eyebrow at you. “Nervous?”

“Nope,” you lied with a hesitant smile, hoping he wouldn’t see through your facade, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

He raised his other hand up to his hair to run through and you squeezed your eyes shut, berating yourself silently as the realization dawned upon you. He hadn’t held his hand out to you but to fix his hair-

Why wouldn’t the earth just swallow you up?

“It’s cool,” Jeongguk laughed, retracting his hand back and scratching at the back of his neck. “Uh- wanna leave?”

You nodded dumbly, not trusting yourself to say anything sensible right now, and that was frustrating you. You were never like this - the nervous, wrecked person who had their tongue twisted. At least not around a lot of boys.

But Jeongguk was different. There was something about him, you noticed as you walked alongside with him, taking his bent head and the way his fine legs looked really good in those jeans -

“Look out.”

You caught yourself just in time, staring wide eyed at the car that you were about to run into, and you grumbled to yourself, half in embarrassment, as you rounded around the car and followed him, “Who even parks their car like that?”

Jeongguk just smiled, and a part of you wished he would say something stupid so you could find something to hate about him, but  the way he was softly smiling wasn’t helping at all.

“Ah, here we go.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t help the tiny gasp that left your mouth.

“You coming?” Jeongguk was beeping the car open, and you really wondered if he knew what a jewel he had in his hands right now.

You nodded and trailed your hands along the head of the car, blinking in awe as you opened the door slowly and heaved yourself up, into the gigantic G-Wagon, softly closing the door and taking in the interior with wide eyes.

“Do you like the car?” Jeongguk said with a slight humour in his voice, hand twisting the keys before a low purr sounded the lot, and while the other cars had roared, like lions, this car purred low like a leopard and you couldn’t help but compare that comparison to Jeongguk as you stared at him.

The drive was painfully awkward and you couldn’t keep track with how many times you caught yourself trailing your eyes back to Jeongguk’s profile, promptly snapping your head to face forwards whenever he shifted in his seat.

When he reached forward to turn the music on, you relaxed ever so slightly, sinking back into the seat and humming as you tapped your fingers to the beat.

“So,” he started, making you jump slightly, before carrying on with a smile, “Wanna tell me something about yourself?”

You pursed your lips in a show but thought to yourself, Is this normal? Does he ask all the girls he fucks to chat about their hobbies?

You winced at yourself at the crass thought, but answered, “Well you know my name already - wait you do right?”

The embarrassed look Jeongguk tried to hide explained it all; his cheeks went red and he pressed his lips together with a shrug. “I was too overcome with your beauty to remember what you said-”

“Save it.” You laughed, reaching up to cup your cheek and glance out the window with a smile. “It’s Y/N. Whatta bout you?”

The minute the words left your mouth, you couldn’t help the cry of embarrassment that left your mouth as you covered your face. Jeongguk’s loud infectious laughter filled the car and you felt a bare of a smile against your fingers.

“You’re that nervous?” Jeongguk laughed, the car coming to a stop at a red light and you glanced up to stare ahead with a slight pout. “No I am not.”

Light fingers touched at your chin and turned you to face Jeongguk and your breath tripped and you blinked up wide at him, feeling the way your cheeks were heating up.

He had leaned over the seat, the seat-belt digging warningly into his chest, eyes dark and lidded as he tilted his head to gaze at you, breath smelling oddly of mint.

“I think you should be.” He whispered hotly, lashes flicking against his skin as he dipped down to nudge at your nose. Your breath hitched and your hand flew up to his shoulder, ready to push him away, but his nose jerked away, nosing down to trace a path down past your cheeks to your collarbones, and shakily, you felt him place a light kiss, a bare brush of lips really, to there, and you felt yourself quiver, fist clenching atop his shoulder.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, leaning closer to share the heat that was radiating off of him, his hand dropping from your chin to dance at the edge of your face, tickling at the apple swell of your cheeks teasingly. “What were you saying before about not being nervous?”

You blinked up at the roof of the car, mumbling back out, “I’m not, I’m just slightly new to all of these things.” A poor attempt of a front, and Jeongguk saw right through you.

Jeongguk let out a light chuckle, tipping his chin up to gaze up at you, the proximity between you so close you saw the way the browns in his eyes blended into honey gold and the slight upturned part of his top lip that looked too shiny for a boy.

“There’s a lot I have to teach you then,” he grinned out, and suddenly the car was jerking forward, his foot placed firmly on the ground and sending the car in motion, pulling away from you just as fast and leaving you cold.

When you both arrived, it was to a apartment building and you followed Jeongguk up the stairs and towards the elevators.

A flare of panic of being too close with Jeongguk again rose up in your chest and you blurted out, “Why don’t we take the stairs?”

Jeongguk looked back at you with an unreadable face, before shrugging and walking beside you up the stairs.

You kept chanting in your head You’re so dumb, You’re so dumb god god why-

And by the time you had repeated that thirty two times, you had stopped behind Jeongguk who was busying himself open a door and pushing it open.

The apartment was nice, surprisingly not as posh as you thought, and you felt a slight tug in your heart as you saw an opened pizza box.

“Sorry for the mess.” Jeongguk said unapologetically, tossing his coat to the side and striding to the kitchen. “My apartment is under renovation right now, so I’m borrowing my friend’s flat for a while.”

Scratch the previous thought.

You had no idea as to how to reply to that, so you nodded and let out a “ah” before moving to the hanging frames on the wall and you noticed with a jerk that the grey haired boy in most of the photos, smiling with his family and his friends.

“Want a drink?”

Turning around, you took in Jeongguk standing behind the ledge that divided the kicthen from the living room, holding up a can of soda.

“I’ll take some water,” you smiled, and it dropped slightly at the way Jeongguk rose his eyebrows slightly judgingly.

“Here you go Miss,” Jeongguk passed you a bottle of water before coming to stop infront of you.

You glanced at him before focusing on drinking the water, midway the bottle when he said,

“So you wanna get fucked here or…?”

Choking, you spluttered out some drops of water before bringing your arm up to dab at your mouth before stuttering out, “What?”

“Look love,” Jeongguk rolled up his sleeves slowly, the dark blue color complimenting his smooth skin, his eyes closed as if he was in pain saying it, “This was great and all but I’ve got a lot of work to do so if we can hurry this up - “

The promise you had made to yourself popped up in your brain and you zoomed to your feet, speeding into your explanation, “That’s okay we can do this another time really, it’s not that important-”

“Whoa whoa .” Jeongguk raised both eyebrows, hands drifting to stay on his hips. “You’re bailing out on me here?”

“Well it’s more like I’m bailing on myself,” you mumbled to yourself, ducking your head and poking your sock covered toes at the carpet.

Jeongguk let out a bare scoff, a bit surprised and maybe a bit offended, and proceeded to cross his arms with a sharp gaze.  “Well can I ask why?”

You glanced up at him, slightly intimidated, and played at your fingertips, feeling your hands start to sweat up and you glanced around.

“Look, don’t take it personally, it’s nothing against you, I mean you must be a great guy but I’m just-” you broke off, ducking away from his gaze. “I’m kinda scared. And I’m not really looking for a one-night stand, you get me?”

Looking up with hopeful eyes, you took in Jeongguk’s calculating eyes, grazing up and down you, before he took one step forward.

“If you don’t want it to stop, we can go another path,” Jeongguk murmured, reaching his hand out to tip your chin up and tug you closer. Your feet stumbled underneath you put you caught yourself, staring  up into his wide brown eyes in alarm. “Who’s to say we have to stop seeing each other?”

Jeongguk trailed his other hand up your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and you felt yourself grow weak, become putty against his hands. Your head was growing fuzzy, a haze clouding your mind as you stared up at Jeongguk, watching the brown hair flop over his forehead and down to his dangerous dark eyes.

“Do you understand love?”

You pulled yourself back slightly, clearing your throat and shaking your head, trying to rid the haze from your head.

“Look,” you tried again weakly, eyes fluttering at the way Jeongguk dipped his head and kissed your shoulder delicately, and though you wore many layers, you felt the searing heat that spread through your body from that one spot.

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered softly, and the mood in the air shifted, his hands finding way to your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin, nuzzling into your neck, and you felt the heat from his mouth.

“Can I?” he asked, and you heard the slight want in his voice, laced oh so wondrously with heat.

Your tongue felt too heavy, and so you slid your hands up to his hair, sliding through the soft strands and tilting your head back farther, exposing the expanse of your throat.

Yes please

Jeongguk let out a noise, closing the distance and placing a hot open mouthed kiss to your throat, making your head roll back and mouth part, his nails digging into you, one hand sliding to your back to stabilize you, and you gasped out a tiny, “Oh.”

Jeongguk was moving before you knew it, grabbing a hold of your hand before striding to his room, and you followed him, heart in your throat and you had few seconds to view the nice room before you were pressed up to a wall, Jeongguk’s face all you could see as he neared your lips.

“Can I take it?” He whispered, eyes trained on your lips. “Your first kiss?”

Your breath caught slightly when he glanced up, and the need was apparent, so damn apparent, you felt slightly dizzy at the thought.

“Yes,” you found yourself nodding and just like that, he had swooped down to capture your lips in his, pulling you along with him, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you close.

Soft, luscious lips kissed you, pressed you into the wall, hands roaming up and down your body, mapping it out for Jeongguk to remember, long strong fingers rubbing soothing patterns as he tilted his head, teasingly licking at your lips with his tongue before moving.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remain calm as you felt him tilt his head and kiss you again, the world spinning as he pressed your further into the wall. All your senses were heightened, acute of the way his hands clutched your shirt in his fists and the way he smiled whenever you gasped when your lips parted.

When he pulled back, you blinked up at him, breathless, literally, your vision fuzzy and nerves on edge, heart pounding a million beats a second.

“Was I okay?” he teased, a raise of eyebrow.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, jaw slack, and chose instead to answer by looping your fingers into the hoops of his jeans and tugging him back for another kiss, giggling slightly when he mumbled an ‘okay then’.

This doesn’t feel like a quick fuck and go. That was all you could think of as you kissed, wrapping your arms around him again and going on your tip toes to gain more leverage, tipping your head back when the kiss got too intense and let out a slight groan when Jeongguk sucked at your skin.

“Oh my god I’m sorry,” you rushed to apologize but you stopped when Jeongguk picked one hand to brace next to your head, head remaining ducked as he spoke:

“Can I - god, Y/N, can I fuck you?”

You felt yourself go up another level of dizziness at his words, blinking quickly to ground yourself and you nodded, fisting at Jeongguk’s shoulder, finding yourself whisper, “Please.”

The world spun with colors as Jeongguk spun both of you around, still clutched to each other, and made way to the bed, dropping you and kneeling a top of you.

He made way to unbutton his shirt but he glanced down  at you, debating, before he took your hand and said, “C’mere.”

You were tugged up onto your feet by the boy, spun around to face him so he tilted his chin to glance up at you. Hand still clasped in his, he placed your fingers to his top buttons and said, “Go ahead.”

You swallowed, not daring to look up to his eyes, working your fingers to motion as you ever so slowly popped the buttons open, cursing slightly when your grip slipped, and Jeongguk smirked. “Easy there.”

You gave him a light glare which he tilted his head at with a grin, before you finally unbuttoned all the buttons, his shirt hanging open and you wrenched your eyes up and away from his very toned stomach, retracting your hands. “Now?”

“This isn’t a lab experiment babe.” Jeongguk laughed, leaning his hands back. “Just do what you feel is right.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes, reaching somewhere in you to steel yourself, before opening your eyes and reaching back out, but this time to trace at Jeongguk’s neck, dipping your finger into the crevice of his collarbones, and dragging a hesitant line down his sternum, eyes flicking up to gauge his reaction.

His head was tilted to the side, eyes half shut, but murmured, “Go on.”

You pushed the boundary and placed your palm flat against his stomach, feeling his abs contract and your breaths stuttered. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you pulled your hand back to let only your fingertips dance down down down till they reached the seemingly expensive and heavy buckle that held Jeongguk’s lower body in secret. 

In a rush of confidence, you dropped your hand further till you traced at the bulge that strained painfully against his jeans, and you heard the sharp intake from above you. Your eyes slowly dragged up to Jeongguk’s, who gazed at you for a bated breath before launching forward and tugging you into a kiss, laying himself back on the bed and pulling you atop him.

You gasped as his hands found way to the bottom of your ass, and your head tilted back to let out a high pitch noise when he craned his neck up to suck harshly, dropping your head meekly to hide yourself.

“C’mon babe,” Jeongguk encouraged, licking a long stripe up your neck and murmured in you ear, “Whatever you’ve dreamed of doing, do it right now.”

You let out a sound you never thought you could make, the whole scenario too much for you, and you gripped at the sheets.

“Jeongguk,” you gasped, trying to catch his attention. “K-Kiss-”

He let out a bare smile before leaning up and capturing your lips, sealing your lips together and slowly tilting  his head to deepen the kiss, and you fell into him, knees digging onto the sides of his hips.

Something hot was uncurling inside of you, stirring heat inside of you and making you whine, breaking the kiss to sit  up slightly.

Jeongguk glanced up in confusion, and you rushed to explain with frustration, hands coming up to push the hair that fell in front of your forehead back,. “I -I feel hot and it hurts-”

You were rolled around so you were underneath Jeongguk and he growled out, “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” before capturing your lips in another kiss, hands digging in your hips and tugging you up to meet the roll of hips that sent you crying out, head falling back as you gasped out, “Jeongguk oh my god-”

“I’ll take care of you,” Jeongguk hushed, making you nod quickly, before reaching down to play with your shirt. “Can I?”

You hesitated, your insecurities and anxiety climbing up quickly and you moved to sit up when Jeongguk noticed the alarm in your eyes, calming you down with a hand on your hip. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do it.”

You glanced away, embarrassed, feeling yourself grow hot all over, and oddly, you felt tears sprout at the edges of your eyes.

“Hey hey,” Jeongguk leaned down, thumbing at the tears. “I’m sorry was I going too fast? Do you want to stop?”

“No! No it’s just.” you brushed at your tears and stared at Jeongguk’s ear, trying to look at anywhere but his eyes and his painfully bare body. This was the last thing you needed. Were you really crying over not being able to think straight?  “I don’t know what I’m doing and it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s alright.” Jeongguk smirked, though his expression held no mockery - only patience. “I’ll teach you. We have a lot of time. Okay? So don’t worry.”

His words oddly made you feel calmer and you let out a tiny nod, fingertips idly dancing over his body to shake your thoughts away and he let out a tiny laugh, tilting his  head back and commenting in a whisper, “Your fingers seem to be knowing what they’re doing.”

You flushed at the comment, flicking your eyes up to see his eyes shut, before leaning forward and kissing at his beautifully tanned neck, noting the way he flinched but did not move you away, instead humming and letting you kiss up his neck and down before tentatively licking over a point where he groaned.

“God baby,” he dropped his head to your shoulder, “Please let me touch you.”

You whispered out, “Okay,” and he set in motion, kissing from your lips to your shoulder and down your shirt to the hem of your jeans, flicking his lashes up to gaze up to your eyes and push a  tiny peep of your shirt to kiss at the skin there.

You gasped, head tilting back and encouraging him, “It’s okay, go on.”

You felt your nerves catch up to you, and though you gave him the go ahead sign, you threw your arms over your eyes and prepared yourself.

He huffed out a tiny laugh before slowly unbuttoning, placing a kiss once more there before tugging your jeans down your legs, watching in awe as goosebumps broke up, letting his hands slid up your legs to massage into your thighs.

Suddenly you jerked up, grabbing at his hands and saying, “Actually what if I’m not good enough, I think we should stop - “

“Hey.” Jeongguk hushed you, blinking up at you with something hard in his eyes. “Say the word and we’ll stop but don’t you ever say you’re not good enough.”

You gulped at his words, cowering slightly at his firm gaze, somehow ending up nodding and leaning back down. I’ll take care of you, were his words, and you blinked up at the ceiling, telling yourself to trust his words.

Jeongguk, after making sure you were okay, turned his attention back to your body, hands massaging at your skin and leaning down to press kisses here and there.

When his kisses trailed up to the edge of your underwear, he whispered, “I can smell you fuck,” and pressed a hot open mouthed kiss to your mound, making you keen and drop your head back, hands tugging at the sheets.

His fingers were on your hips, toying with the straps of your underwear, before drifting down and pulling it away from your lips, breathing out a light, “holy fuck,” and before you could even think of being shy he dove down, licking a long stripe up and nuzzling deep into you, tongue and teeth scraping and licking at your lips.

“Oh my god-” you choked out, tilting your head to the side as you tried to keep your noises low.

Jeongguk was making down right filthy sounds, licking at your lips and sucking hard, his hands coming up to tug at your thighs away, eyes shut as he feasted like a deprived a man, hands slipping to circle your thighs and hold them in place.

“Oh my god Jeongguk,” you whispered, your voice cracking and you made a bare eye contact with him, his eyes boring into you from below, before you tilted your head to the side, the back of your hand pressing into your mouth as your hips twitched.

“Gonna have to stretch you out baby,” he murmured as he tilted his head to the side, catching the skin in between his teeth to suck bruises on your skin. His tongue lapped at the stinging area, thumbs rubbing soothingly into your skin.“That okay with you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered out, mind reeling at his words, propped up on your elbows and fingers fisted into the sheets. Jeongguk gave you a tiny smirk, eyes flicking up to you with a patch of your skin in between his teeth before he released you and slid into a comfortable position.

Laying flat on his stomach, Jeongguk pressed at your thighs, pushing dangerously them apart, letting his lashes flutter against your skin as he laid his head onto your thigh, watching sideways as he brought a finger up to trace your mound.

An embarrassed whine climbed up your throat at the intensity in his eyes, thighs tensing and Jeongguk caught the movement, laying still but flicking his eyes up to gaze at you with mirth. You parted your lips with narrowed eyes to tell him to quick teasing but -

Jeongguk, with an agonizingly slow pace and fixed gaze, slipped a single finger into you, catching his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watched you swallow up his digit, your walls so fucking tight.

“J-Jeongg-guk-” you gasped, hips jerking as you sunk your teeth into your lips, eyes desperate as you watched Jeongguk hushed you with a turn of his head to kiss at your thigh before pulling his hand back and sinking back into you.

“Oh,” you let a pleased hum and fell back onto the bed, hands coming up to cover your face as you felt the boy’s pace slowly, yet steadily, pick up, the burn against your walls so delicious and slow you felt yourself loose yourself at the ends.

You tried to keep it in, you really did, but the way Jeongguk had propped his chin onto your hip bone to gaze at you with a hot gaze as his arms flexed with how fast he had started to thrust into you made you squirm, whine out breathy sighs of his name up into the air, back arching slightly every moment or so before sinking back into the sheets when his other hand smoothed of the expanse of your skin, warm and heavy before he cupped your hip and pressing down firmly.

You picked up your head to give him a questioning glance before he braced his arm against your hip, pinning you down firmly, before resuming his attack on your lips, hand thrusting into you too fast for you to keep up.

“Jeongguk! P-Please oh,” you twisted your body to the side, your mind short circuiting as the pleasure built, alarmingly fast, that coil inside your gust twisting precariously tighter with each second he crooked his fingers into you.

Jeongguk’s brows came close together as he turned his gaze down to your mound, leaning down to lick at his thumb, inhaling the smell of your sex and groaning, before rubbing hard circles onto  your clit with his slicked thumb, letting out a grunt when you choked out a breathy, “Oh my god.”

You two made eye contact when Jeongguk leaned back down, tongue hanging out to lick up at your clit, his nose brushing against that sensitive bundle on your mound and your legs jerked, hastily trying to press shut as your cheeks burned in shame. 

But Jeongguk’s hands were there, strong and unmoving as he pinned your legs apart, one eyebrow cocking up at you with his lips still firmly lapping at your juices, as if to say wanna try that again?

You let out an apologetic whine, your face feeling hot and sticky as you brought your hand up to run a hand through your hair, one finger ending up in your mouth as you watched him suck at you ruthlessly, making you squirm in agony.

The coil was getting tight, winding you up and making you ache for your release, and you had absolutely no idea how to ask for it, desperation clouding your mind as your hips danced off the sheets, one hand coming down to grip his hair.

“Jeongguk,” you rasped, eyes catching his as he leaned back slightly to bring his hands closer to your mound and spread at the skin there so he could have a better access to your pussy, leaning back in swiftly to suck at your lips, eyes wide and unbashed as he stared up at you.

“Oh god Jeongguk you’re gonna kill me,” you breathed out in one breath, dropping back onto your back. At a particular hard suck, you cried out, a high pitched, “Please!” escaping your lips and loud enough for Jeongguk to move away with a low growl.

Pressing up onto his knees, he watched as your face fell and knees pulled close to hide yourself, hands splayed out next to your head, but Jeongguk simply pried at your knees, eyes dark and promising as he grunted out, “Fuck do you have any idea how good you sound?” You keened back in response.

“God, I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he vowed, leaning over you as he pushed at his jeans down. “Make you scream.”

You tried to ignore the way your body burned alight at the statement, gulping and helping him push the jeans down and kissing him back as he dipped down, hands grabbing at your wrists, tugging them to place around his back.

“Dig in my back if it hurts too much, okay?” he whispered against your lips, one hand dropping to push his boxers down.

You nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he flung his boxers somewhere, breath hitching as you felt something line up at your entrance, a slight whimper escaping you, and Jeongguk instantly froze, eyes flying to you.

“Hey, hey. You’re gonna be fine. We can still back out now, okay? Just give me the word love.”

At your hesitant gaze, he carried on. “Don’t think about me. Just about yourself, okay?”

You blinked up at him, lips slightly trembling, before you steeled yourself. It was okay, right? Jeongguk was experienced, and judging my how slow he went, he knew how anxious you were. If your tapped out, he’d stop instantly, right?

Looping your arms around Jeongguk’s neck, you cheekily whispered, “Say please first.”

Jeongguk stared at you, silent for a split second, before his eyes started to sparkle and he let out a laugh. “You’re really making it hard for me to maintain a bad boy image, you know that?”

You giggled, watching breathlessly as Jeongguk’s face straightened into a serious one and he dipped down, nosing at your cheek before grinning, “Will you let me fuck you, please, Y/N?”

You thought you’d laugh when he’d say it, but the way his body pressed into you and his hands held you made you arch your back and mumble, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jeongguk aligned himself at your entrance and your toes slightly curled, but Jeongguk’s fingers curled around your chin and pulled you in for a kiss, slow and deep and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, before he slipped in.

The pain was obvious, something that pierced so deep that made you pull away from Jeongguk’s lips and blink up at the ceiling, tears swimming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shh,” Jeongguk hushed, holding his hips square against yours, bowing down and pressing his forehead to the side of your head, kissing at the spot above your ear. “You’re so strong,” he whispered, his voice straining, jaw clenched as his thumb came to wipe at your tears.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, tilting to look at Jeongguk, and he kissed you, keeping your lips pressed together as he whispered, “It’ll become better okay love? Can I move?”

You nodded, hands clutching his bare shoulders, wincing as he pulled out before slipping back in, and though it felt weird, and stung a bit, you started to feel the thrum of pleasure that erupted inside of your body, and you arched up slightly, tossing your head to the side and groaning out, “Jeongguk yes-”

“There we go,” Jeongguk hummed leaning back and pulling back before slamming hard into you and you whined, pleasure burning your insides and making something deep in the pit of your stomach coil tightly.

“J-Jeongguk yes yes please,” you gasped, hands falling from his neck to his chest, bouncing with every thrust of his, your body too hot underneath the layers of clothes.

“Does it feel good baby?” Jeongguk leaned over you, rolling his hips deep into you. “You with me?”

“Jeongguk,” you gasped, glaring up at him playfully, “Stop talking and use those hips more.”

A slight of a smile erupted on his face before he pulled back and thrusted deeply inside, purring at the way you cried out.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he asked at the way your face pinched. “Gonna come so quickly?”

Your cheeks bursted into flames and you tilted your head to the side, keening at the way he hit that one spot, the coil tightening  by every second.

“Jeongguk I think I ‘m-”

“Go on baby,” Jeongguk hummed into your ear, voice thick with lust, hips picking up in pace as he hiked your legs around his waist. “Come for me love.”

You cried out, hand in his hair and other covering your mouth as the pace picked up and you came, back arching and a high pitched cry erupting out of your mouth.

“Oh, oh,” you kept chanting as you came down from your high, arms looped around Jeongguk and cheek pressed to his shoulder. A shiver went through you as you felt his hands dig into your hips and he slowed to a stop, mumbling out a tight, “You okay?”

Nodding, you caught your breathe before asking, “Aren’t you gonna…?”

“It’s fine,” he moved to pull out but you tightened your grip on his waist, pressing your forehead to his neck. “Go on.”

He hesitated for a second before making sure with a “Really?” before slipping his hips back and slamming into you, and every thrust sent shivers into you, making you whimper into his ear, all while he murmured, “That’s it, good girl.”

You expected the time after sex to be awkward, but you found it to be comfortable.

Jeongguk had cleaned you up, claiming that you’d regret it in the morning if you didn’t, and pulled the covers over you, tossing a shirt and boxers to you to change into.

It required no extensive knowledge that he expected you to stay the night, and you found yourself following, slipping on the clothes and crawling under the covers.

When Jeongguk reappeared a half hour later, he was dressed in just his boxers, hair messed up in a glorified way that screamed sex-god.

He gave you a smile, a tiny one, before he slipped into bed, picking his head up to mumble out a “Goodnight” before leaning forward and clicking the light off to send the room  into pitch black darkness.

[milomeepit]

Diamond In The Rough: Chapter One

Roman has always wanted better. Has always believed that there’s a better life, a better world, just out of reach. Just beyond the veil of shitty teachers who don’t care, angry classmates that scream insults and slurs at each other all day, and drug-hazed parents who are more concerned with their next hit than looking after their ten year old son.

When he runs away after a particularly bad night at home and finds a quiet little cafe/bookstore tucked away in a back alley of the city, the sweet couple who run the joint (an odd pair; a quiet, gloomy man with a wry sense of humour and a cynical gleam in his eye, and a bouncy man who smiles like sunshine and laughs like a storybook king) help show him that maybe- just maybe- he really can have the life he always dreamed of.

Masterpost (to be linked soon!)

Word Count:1307

Chapter Warnings: Homelessness, starving, stranger danger, fairy tales

Roman shivered as he made his way down the street, tugging his jacket tighter around him. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but the bitter chill was already settling over the city, seeping into its inhabitant's bones.

His backpack hung heavy on his shoulders as he wandered through the grey and gloomy city, eyes sweeping the ground for any dropped bit of change. He still had the small stash he’d swiped before leaving home, but it wasn’t enough for a motel room to get out of the cold. Maybe he could try begging or singing for money. It might be his best option at this point.

Many of the stores and restaurants lining the street were plastered with posters and signs declaring their prices, many of them much more than he could afford. He wasn’t sure exactly what the time was, but it wouldn’t be long before the sun began to set, and his growling stomach reminded him that he had yet to eat. He grimaced, curling in on himself, and leaned back against a cold brick wall.

A door swung open, distracting him from his lack of food. He looked down the street to see a tall man wearing a black turtleneck and a light blue half apron with a bright purple pocket sweeping dead leaves from the sidewalk in front of the small door. It didn’t look like it was attached to the pharmacy or the record store on either side, and the area seemed very well kept. The man disappeared back through the door, whistling, taking the broom with him. Roman caught a few faint notes of music before the door swung shut behind him, something warm and cheerful and inviting.

It probably wouldn’t be smart to go wandering into an unmarked door where a strange man could be lurking, in the middle of the city, with not many people around, but... something drew Roman to the door. He found himself standing in front of the dark wood, examining the smooth, clean finish. It was clearly well taken care of, clean and shiny. Even the surrounding sections of wall were free from graffiti, a rare sight in this part of town.

He reached up and grabbed the silver doorknob, then paused. He looked around, up and down the street. For what, he wasn’t sure, but this felt secret, and dangerous, and exciting. Like a portal into a magical world. Exactly the kind of thing he’d been looking for, in other words.

Roman took a deep breath, then pulled open the door and was confronted by a steep, narrow set of stairs that reached up to the second story. “Coraline, eat your heart out,” he breathed, eyes dancing over the staircase. Small painted flowers of every colour and trees curled up the walls like vines, reaching upwards towards the golden light pouring like melted butter from the overhead lamp.

He started up the stairs, vaguely hearing the door swing shut behind him. He trailed his fingertips along the winding stems of the flowers, half expecting them to come away coated with pixie dust. Every step brought him closer to the faint music, the gentle clink of crockery, the smells of paper and butter and cinnamon. His heart thundered as he crept closer to the top of the stairs. Where on earth was he right now?

As his feet hit the top step, his eyes widened. Mismatched bookshelves stood to one side of the large room, making haphazard pathways and tunnels across the hardwood floor. Tables and chairs were scattered around the room, and a counter framed in the corner held a coffee machine and a glass display case lined with mouth-watering treats. 

The tall man appeared from a doorway behind the counter and pulled a cupcake out from the case, carrying it over to one of the few occupied tables. He set it down in front of a shorter man with caramel skin and wild curly brown hair, pecking him on the cheek and murmuring something to him with a gentle smile. The other man chuckled, slinging his arms around the tall man’s neck and dotting kisses all over his face.

Roman’s heart ached. He had to be dead, or dreaming. Maybe he’d walked past the wrong alleyway and breathed in some kind of fumes from some weird new drug, and he was hallucinating. Real adults weren’t that sweet, like lovers in a storybook or in one of his favourite movies. Places like this didn’t really exist, with such a cozy, disorderly warmth. He knew that. He scampered in the opposite direction from the two men, squeezing between two of the bookcases and scanning the shelves.

His eyes landed on a familiar red cover, the gold script along the spine shiny and comforting. He eased out the thick book and retreated further into the bookshelves, finding an armchair and curling up with the book in his lap before beginning to quietly read aloud from one of his favourite stories. “‘There was, many years ago, a gentleman who had a charming lady for his wife. They had one daughter only, who was dutiful to her parents. But while she was still very young, her mamma died, to the grief of her husband and daughter. After a time, the little girl’s papa married another lady. However, this lady was proud and haughty, and had two grown-up daughters as disagreeable as herself; so the poor girl found everything at home changed for the worse.’”

He paused for a moment, his fingers tracing the familiar illustration of Cinderella, in her plain dress, sitting by the dark, cold fireplace, her face fixed in a gentle, wistful expression. “‘But she bore all her troubles with patience, not even complaining to her father, and, in spite of her hard toil, she grew more lovely in face and figure every year.’”

Roman squinted at the book as he read, his eyes hurting a little from focusing on the small print. “‘Now the King’s son gave a grand ball, and all persons of quality were invited to it. Our two young ladies where not overlooked. Nothing was now talked of but the rich dresses they were to wear.’” He sighed softly, letting the book fall open on his lap and leaning back in the armchair and looking up at the ceiling. The magic of the ball seemed to pale in comparison to the whimsical atmosphere of the cafe. He wanted to stay here forever. He couldn’t stay here forever. Maybe he could? There were enough tables and chairs and sofas he could probably hide for a good long while.

The scrape of chairs made him jump, and a cheerful voice rang out across the room. “Alrighty, folks! It’s five o’clock, which means we’ve gotta close up and get home. So, I’m gonna have to ask you all to skedaddle. That means any of you bookworms still in the stacks, too!”

Ah. He could always come back tomorrow, as well. They’d probably be open. Maybe they had their hours posted somewhere around the cafe. Or he could just wait until they came back tomorrow morning.

Roman slid the book back onto the shelf, making a mental note of where it was so he could find it again next time, and slipped down the stairs and out the door. He shivered as the cold evening air wrapped around him once again, sticking his hands in his pockets as he turned back down the street towards the park he’d found that morning. 

He glanced over his shoulder before he turned the corner, his gaze lingering on the wooden door. “... I’ll be back soon,” He whispered to himself. “It’ll be fine.” He swallowed, trying to force down the sense of dread and anxiety that was clawing up his throat as he set off to find a place to sleep.

[kez2402]

Chapter 2

I adapted to the Wakandan customs pretty quickly. After a week of training with the Dora Milaje, protecting the Throne and all while doing what I love, I had finally felt....happy.

I had been in Wakanda now for almost three months. I had done nothing but show loyalty to the Throne, obeying their every command. Although King T'Chaka was a bit skeptical at first I think he has grown to like me, and he finally had trusted me. Throughout my stay I had also met Queen Romona and Princess Shuri, who I had taken a shine to. Shuri and I had become close friends, often she'd show me new tech in her lab and I'd try to help out where I could. Queen Ramona had also learned to trust me some bit, as for her son, not so much.

Prince T'Challa had never trusted me since the day King T'Chaka allowed me to stay in his home. He was always very cautious around me, always on guard. The Prince didn't fully like the fact of Shuri hanging around with me, actually he didn't like it at all. They often got into fights over it, but nothing changed. I had gained the trust of the King. The Queen. The Princess. The Dora Milaje. I was determined to gain the trust of the Prince.

Over the course of another three months, totalling six months, King T'Chaka had grown to be like a father to me, he gave me lessons on the Wakandan language and culture. Mostly about the different tribes, religious ceremonies and of course the Heart- Shaped Herb. T'Chaka had also given me tours of Wakanda, and I must say it was one beautiful country, especially the Wakandan sunsets. Over those months I had also gained some of Prince T'Challa's trust. He wasn't as tense or on guard. It was a relief to be honest. The odd time, when I was with Shuri in her lab, T'Challa would visit to see the new designs for various things, we would just end up laughing at each other. Mostly because Shuri was roasting him about one thing or other.

Given some time, a lot of time, T'Challa and I had become good friends, often just sparring and then taking a walk through the gardens. Until I had training and he had 'Prince duties'. Sometimes I would be invited to dine with the royal family, I should have felt out of place, but because of my close relationship with each of them I felt at ease. I no longer address them by King, Queen, Prince or Princess but by just their names. Of course it was weird at first but it just grew into a habit.

I rarely thought about Bucky. He left and I hadn't heard anything about or from him. He was still my partner and nothing could change that, nor could anyone fill that void, fully. Although, Okoye did a pretty good job of temporarily filling it. She had become quite fond of me durning our time training together, and eventually we became friends. She was my friend but while sparring she certainly didn't show it. Okoye didn't hold back on throwing punches at her opponent.

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It was coming up to the end of my second year in Wakanda, life had been great up until then. Up until the attack. Until Hydra had come back.

That night was Romona and T'Chaka's anniversary. Everything was going so well. There was a ball at the palace, and most of Wakanda was invited. A ball wasn't exactly my cup of tea, mainly because when I attended a ball it was to assassinate someone. That and I couldn't dance. At all. And I certainly wasn't use to wearing a gown. I had gotten ready with Shuri and Okoye. We sat in my room and Shuri did my hair and makeup while Okoye got into her gown. Shuri had done an excellent job on my hair and makeup, and it matched my dress perfectly. It was a royal blue, to match my eyes, and had small diamonds around the neck. Okoye wore a beautiful red dress, which really complimented her dark complection. Yellow was Shuri's go to colour. At first when she said she was wearing yellow, you could see the cringe on my face. Then, I took it back because she look stunning in the colour.

The palace had looked amazing that night. The ballroom was full of decorations and the chandelier, it really finished the place off perfectly. Our trio entered the ballroom and Shuri had to go stand by her family on the landing, looking over the room below. They all looked so perfect together, it was very picturesque. King T'Chaka had stood forward and started to speak. The room had fallen silent.

"Wamkelekile. Ndiyabulela konke ngokuza. Kuvuyiswa kakhulu ukuba apha apha namhlanje ebusuku, kwaye ukubhiyozela eli thuba elihle kunye nani nonke. Ndiyathemba ukuba uyavuya.

(Welcome. Thank you all for coming. It is a great pleasure to be here tonight, and to celebrate this wonderful occasion with you all. I hope you enjoy.)"

And with that the celebration had begun. There was music playing in the background, there was people dancing, laughing. Everybody was having a good time. Okoye and I were standing beside the door, it may have been a party but the Dora Milaje were still on duty.

"Ngaba uceba ukudanisa kulo lonke uhlwanje?

(Do you plan on dancing at all tonight?)" Okoye asked me a smirk on her face as she did so.

"kuphela xa wenza. (Only when you do.) Plus, who would I dance with?" I chuckled at her reaction, one I knew all too well.

"Well, a certain Prince is looking kind of lonely."

"No."

"Why not?" She smirked again.

"He is just a friend, Okoye." I was serious and she caught onto that.

"Kulungile. (Okay.) Well, here he comes. Sala kakuhle! (Goodbye!)"

And then she was gone, swallowed by the crowd. I didn't get a chance to say anything before I turned around to come face to face with the Prince himself. I crossed my arms across my chest to form the signature Wakandan curtesy. Prince T'Challa replicated my actions.

"Your Highness."

"Miss Cassidy."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I said a smirk playing across my lips.

"Would you like to dance?"

The question had taken me by surprise and my heart started to pound in my chest. I hadn't a clue how to dance, let alone with the Prince of Wakanda! I had composed myself and replied with:

"It would be disrespectful to decline a Prince."

He gave a small laugh at my response and offered me his arm, which I gladly took. T'Challa guided me to the center of the floor, my heart was still pounding in my chest, dreading the dance. T'Challa seemed to notice my uneasiness and asked if I was okay. I just replied that I hadn't a clue how dance and I apologise in advance for my two left feet. He just laughed it off and said 'well that makes the two of us'. We joined our left hands together, T'Challa put his right hand on my waist, while I put mine on his shoulder. T'Challa slowly started leading the dance, and I followed suit. At that moment everything seemed perfect. People dancing in sync with each other, the fireworks illuminating the dark sky, the atmosphere of happy people. In that moment I knew what happiness was. But, it was short lived.

Screaming came from outside, causing everyone to stop dancing and stare at the source. I looked at T'Challa to find he had the same expression as me. Confusion. I let go of T'Challa's hand and slowly started making my way towards the long windows. T'Challa had called my name but I kept going. With every step I took, getting closer and closer, the more tense I became. When I reached the window I looked out into the darkness, seeing nothing but just that. Darkness. I was about to return to T'Challa when I saw something shimmer in the moonlight and I noticed it was a gun, a lot of them. I turned quickly and shouted for everyone to get down. Then the bullets came. Ricocheting through the long windows, causing shards of glass to go everywhere. All the while there was one thing on my mind. T'Challa. It was my job to keep them all safe and thats what I intended on doing. There was dust everywhere, caused by the bullets sinking into walls. My eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for the royal family. I could see Okoye and Nakia with the King and Queen. But there was no sign of Shuri or T'Challa. I scanned the room again to find T'Challa rising from the floor, fear and dread spread across his face as he searched for his family. I quickly ran over to him.

"Your Highness, are you okay?" I said, scanning him for any sign of major injuries. Only minor cuts were visible across his face.

"I am fine, thank you. Is my family safe?" He asked me, bracing himself for the worst.

"Your parents are with Okoye and Nakia." His shoulders dropped like a huge weight had been lifted. But he tensed once again.

"Where is Shuri?! Where is my sister?!" Fear was dripping from every word.

"I'm going to find her now, but I need you to stay here with your family. So I know you are safe."

I was practically begging him at this stage, I knew how stubborn he could be when it came to his sister, or any family member for that matter. Without saying another word, or giving him a chance to reply, I was up and off looking for Shuri, and to be quite honest I didn't know where to find her. I thought of all possible places until I heard someone call my name. I snapped my head in the direction of the voice to find Shuri outside. I ran to her immediately, embracing her in a hug. The cold air was biting at my bare shoulders, as I held her close to me. There was no way I was going to loose her again. As we broke away I saw a gun pointed at us, and an agent wearing a uniform I hoped I'd never see again. Hydra. I swiftly pulled Shuri to the ground, my body shielding hers as the bullet flew over our heads.

"Shuri I need you to run and find your Brother! He should be in the ballroom with your parents. Go! Now! I'll see you later."

I softly pushed her quicker inside the palace, before hands had grabbed me, pulling me towards a truck. I never saw them after that.

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To read the rest of the story go to Kez2402 on Wattpad or click on the link below:

[theboyz-engup]

To All The Boyz I’ve Loved Before; Letter Four

Summary-

It was wonderful what a few little letters could do; they could make or break a friendship, cause someone to laugh or smile, make someone remember the time of their life or that moment they wanted to forget. Just some words on paper and poof, everyone knew the way your heart beat and workings of your brain. High school really did wonders on you, as did those twelve boys. Maybe they didn’t know it, but they changed your whole life with each smile, each wave, and each word you typed into paper. You made them permanent, and now they had to know why.

Word Count- 8.3k

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Chanhee gave a swift wave to Sangyeon, who lived across the street from him and was sitting on his stairs. The two of them had never been the best of friends but they were always friendly and Chanhee remembered giving him half off plant products he bought for a girl he was into. Chuckling at it, Chanhee unlocked his door and called a little hello. As always, the house was empty and the mail that was fit through the door slot was scattered across his hallway floor.

“God, this is a mess,” Chanhee sighed, groaning a bit as he bent down to pick up the envelopes. Most were addressed to his parents and a few to his siblings but one was addressed to him. He hummed, not knowing mail still got shipped here for him. He moved out of here a year ago, despite still having a key and sleeping here ever so often.

Maybe it’s junk, he thought, placing it down on the table with the rest of the letters as he untied his shoes. Yeah, I’ll just toss it. Probably some weird advertisement for something.

The thought was enough for him to make up his mind, grasping the letter and taking it with him to his father’s office on the first floor. He stood above the shredder, looking at it as it whirred the second he placed his foot on the pedal. The sound bothered him, like he was making a mistake he didn’t know he was making. Whining a bit, he took his foot off the pedal and looked at the letter again.

The writing was foreign to him, absentmindedly walking up the stairs after plopping his worn, leather bag atop the letters that weren’t for him. Flipping it over, he found a little sticker- one he remembered having way back when- and smiled. Unsticking the envelope, he began his light read, taking it all the way with him through the house as he paced.

Dear Choi Chanhee,

I’m sorry if you ever read this letter. It’s going to be so long and complicated and I doubt you even want to hear it but I hope it can help explain. I never meant to upset you, not once, but I’m sorry because I know I did.

Early September, 2015

The door to your local plant shop squeaked open, hot wind rushing in with you to escape the summer sun. A bell ringing atop your head brought your attention to it for a moment before you continued on your way. The shop looked entirely out of place in your town made of wood and dusted colours. It was a shop made of rounded slabs of rock with clean squares and circles cut out to let sun stream in and stare at the assortment of colours in awe. Everything was grey and cool and smelled of black earth. You loved it, closing your eyes to take it in before continuing on your way.

There was some chatter in the shop so you hoped you weren’t being too loud as you spoke to Eric through the microphone on your headphones.

“So why are you going to the plant store again?” He sounded distracted and you figured he was probably doing some of his work ahead of time so he wouldn’t be too stressed during the school year.

As you spoke, you imagined him with his glasses on and hat backwards- he never studied without one. It was his ‘thinking cap’ as he would say jokingly, but you knew he tugged at his hair when he got stressed and he was convinced that was what’s been making him lose hair. You tried to tell him it was how often he dyed his hair but there was no reasoning with him sometimes.

“I told my mom I might want to start dating because I was talking about how Amalia went out on a date with this jock from the year above in the summer and she was all questioning- like asking me if I wanted to go on dates,” you started, rambling as you always did when you spoke to Eric. Your eyes scanned the plants mindlessly, reaching out to touch a few leaves before shaking your head and moving on.

“And?” Eric’s voice pressed for more, noticing the slight pause in your story as you got just a bit distracted.

Taking a breath and murmuring sorry, you continued, “so I was like ‘yes’ and and she gave me this whole speech about how I don’t have responsibility and to date, I need to have responsibility. When I brought up growing Barly, she told me that giving him the name Bartholomew wasn’t very grown up of me and I need to start from scratch, which would be a plant, apparently.”

Eric just started to laugh, pitch getting higher and higher as he started to fully take in what you said. “Y/n, that’s so lame, I-”

“Ha, ha,” you pouted, landing in front of an aisle labelled ‘easy to take care of’. With a smug smile, you marched down it to find a little plant you wouldn’t have to worry too much about.

“I’m sorry, I just think that’s so stupid,” he giggled some more, filling your ears with familiar bubbles, “if you want to date, you should. At least you told her about it, most kids wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I said but she said that she’s not growing up other kids, she’s growing up me and somehow that makes me different and incomparable to other kids my age.” You rolled your eyes at the thought, stopped in the aisle now and staring vacantly at a flower sprouting slightly from the middle of a round-leafed plant. Your hand reached out to touch the fuzz that grew on the stem of the little flower and you smiled.

“Think I found my plant though.”

“Nice,” Eric hummed, “take a picture of it when you get home, I want to see it.” If he was here with you, he would’ve put his arms around your shoulder and pulled you in, making a joke about how that was going to be your child. He wasn’t though, and it was a phantom arm you felt around your shoulders pulling you in for a hug you would’ve claimed to hate.  

All you did was make a sound to say yes, picking it up off the shelf gingerly in its cement pot. It had a little string bow tied around it, like it was wrapped and ready for you. Thinking of something else to make conversation about, you started to chatter on while keeping your eyes on your little plant.

“I want to name it something stupid again,” you admitted, a bit of an embarrassed chuckle coming through your teeth.

“Of course you do.”

“It’s against the rules but I’ll think of some anyways,” you decided, trying to amuse yourself. There was a click of a pen in the background of his audio as he suddenly got all excited.

Coming closer to his phone, he crooned, “ooh, I’ll start. How about we do something simple like Xerxes?”

It was hard not to laugh at his suggestion, the running joke between you two being that whoever had kids first had to name their first child Xerxes on a dare. The little burst of laughter was enough to make you lift your head as far as the cashier stand where a boy with black hair and a darker cap was standing. Well, he was more so leaning on the counter with his forearms pressed on the metal and hands stitched together- and his eyes were on you. He had a flicker of a smile on his lips the second your eyes met but you didn’t stare for long enough to see what he’d do after. Instead, you hurried to an aisle where you couldn’t see him and vice versa and exhaled deeply.

“What happened now?”

“D-do you remember the waiter guy from Jan’s who was only there that once because he lived far away and was just subbing for his friend?” you whispered quickly and under your breath. Suddenly your heart was in your throat.

“Uh, sure?” Eric was entirely confused, the conversation shift not natural and your voice weird. “Why?”

You just whined, holding your plant with shaky hands now. You probably looked so stupid just hiding behind an aisle to make sure you wouldn’t see each other. He was the only cashier at the store, of course you’d have to see him eventually. Unless he went on break but in that case, he’d most likely pass by you camping out and think you weird either way.

“Okay, wish me luck,” you whispered, steadying yourself. As it turned out, your desire to eventually date someone was greater than you fear of boys- well, cute boys, that is.

“What am I wishing you luck for, what?”

He was genuinely confused but you didn’t quite have the time to explain as you walked towards the front. You felt like plastic, entirely wobbly on your knees which seemed nonexistent  in the moment. The black-haired boy was finishing up another person, handing over a bag and smiling sweetly. The second his eyes landed on you, smile still taut on his lips, you felt your heart sink.

It wasn’t love at first sight but you definitely had some feelings, instantly in adoration.

“Just this today?” His voice sounded like crystals, slightly higher pitched than you expected but clear and kind nonetheless. It forced you to pay attention to him, though you apparently didn’t have a tongue to respond. All that came through was a nod as you placed the plant on the counter.

“I heard you on the phone earlier,” he started, cheery as he typed in the amount on his little computer and then relayed the price to you. You flushed a little, knowing what it was he was talking about and getting embarrassed. “Your mom sounds like a fun time.”

“Is he talking to you?” Eric asked in your ear, to which you made a little hummed noise to. It seemed to be good for both conversations, though Eric didn’t need more of a response and Chanhee, the name which you read off his tag, perhaps did.

“Y-yeah, she’s definitely a character, at least with me.”

“My parents did the same thing,” he admitted, giving you a sympathetic look as he wrapped your plant in some sort of tissue and placed it in a bag, “I wasn’t allowed to do anything and still aren’t but getting jobs and having closer friends helps.”

You were busy paying with your dad’s debit card for the moment, which he graciously lent you in exchange for getting him a chocolate bar on your way home. Desperately though, you wished he wasn’t lecturing you or giving you advice. You supposed that want forced your hand, giving you a reason to be bolder.

“I’m hoping junior year helps them realize I’m not that much of a kid anymore.” The words slipped past your mouth, the lie sounding weirdly natural. Eric hissed in your ear, asking why you lied immediately. Not bothering to respond, you only finished up paying and extended your hand for the bag.

Chanhee, instead, decided to lean against the high counter like before, chin propped up on his hands as he came forwards. “Really? You’re in the year below me? How come I’ve never seen you before?”

Shrugging, you shyly grasped at the bag ends, having to reach a bit but wanting to now get out of there as soon as possible. The reality of your lie was now hitting you as you realized- he also went to your high school. Oh gosh, he was going to find out eventually and that fear gnawed at you starting from that day.

“I- uh, I moved here just last year.” That came out smoothly as well but it wasn’t a lie and you felt better for it. Lying was something you could do well but you didn’t particularly like how heavy they felt- especially this one. This one started to lie in your stomach like cement the second the pride you had for pulling it off so smoothly dissipated into the musky smell of the shop.

“That’s so weird,” he deadpanned, expressive enough with his eyes and the outwards movements of his lips. You’d spent too much time in that instant just looking at those lips that you knew you needed to leave as soon as possible.

“But hey, if you go to Carr, it’d be cool to see you around sometime. I like having new friends, especially ones I get to know from scratch.” Your eyebrow notched up at the sentence and he furthered, “I’ve known everyone here from birth, basically. It’s really refreshing seeing someone new. It makes this place exciting for once.”

Did he just call me exciting? The thought rushed through your brain and caused heat to rise in your chest. As you mulled over his words, its suggestion brought giddiness into your spine.

It took some time for your tongue to work properly, some stutters and shyness existing deep in your voice but eventually, you managed, “t-then I’d lo- love to see you around and not just when I need a date plant.”

He chuckled at your joke, watching you raise your plant slightly as you spoke. His laugh was chimes in the wind, creating echoes in your mind and resonating deeply within you. Something about him felt so present as he asked your name and for your number- he was so real and was acting like someone out of a movie. It seemed almost too good for you until you realized, well, it wasn’t all good.

How was he going to feel when he found out you lied? Would it be a big deal? The questions that ran through your head as you left the store swarmed into a large mass that felt blinding.

“I hate that you made me listen to that,” Eric groaned, though he seemed to still be in high spirits.

“I’m so stupid,” you said immediately, free palm tapping against your head multiple times. You must’ve looked very offset, ranting to just about the only person who wasn’t going to judge you. Though, it was kind of funny as he giggled, little claps coming through your earbuds.

“Yeah, you’re screwed.”

Gosh, I can’t count the amount of times I went to see you at that store. It was like our own little hiding place where we could talk about anything and everything. We had so many little jokes too, especially starting then. You kept making fun of me and my date plant and I kept making fun of you for that video I had of you. Whenever you did fan service, just acting cute or doing something on a dare to get someone to buy a plant, I never caught it on camera except once. You would chase me around the store for that and outside and between the bleachers. I wanted to ask you to do something cute for me too, maybe a heart or a little dance, but I was always too shy to ask.

You were so whiny about it sometimes, but you made me so happy. You were my part time worker but full time cutie, as that one customer said it. Days like that, I remember very happily- days that my age didn’t matter. I hope you do too.

Mid-October, 2015

“Sunwoo!”

His name slipped through your lips, voice louder than you expected it to be but your laugh was even greater. He was running around with you on his back, howling and making noise just to cause a riot. Something about your second year of high school was having him extra excited but you didn’t know he’d be acting like this much of a fool with you on his back.

“Please put me down,” you laughed, though you were clinging onto him for dear life.

“Let go of me then,” he snipped back, turning his head a bit as he tried to look at you. He had to pull away as you leaned forwards, needing eye contact to threaten him properly.

“All right, all right,” Amalia announced, clicking her tongue, “go pull the hyenas apart so we can get our ice cream, Hyunjoon.”

The full-cheeked boy nodded, taking a step towards you and Sunwoo. The one carrying you simply let go of you and you shrieked, clinging onto him as Joon began to laugh a bit. He ran to try and help you down, nearly falling but somehow making it safely.

“You-”

Your sentence never finished itself, hands tapping on Sunwoo’s shoulder over and over again. Placing his hands up in the air to defend himself, cracking jokes with a ridiculous smile on his face. Amalia sweetly came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your body, giving you a little hug to spare Sunwoo.

Immediately, you seeped into it, pouting and muttering, “but he dropped me.”

She clicked her tongue, placating you but not exactly feeling bad for you. Her hand rubbed at your head, giving you slight pats to make you feel better. “I know, baby, I know. Now let’s get some ice cream, yeah?”

You nodded, pouting still but letting her coax you inside. Hyunjoon and Sunwoo followed closely behind, talking like crazy. Everyone had been in a good mood lately, you especially since you’d discovered Chanhee. You would visit his store sometimes, walking around and pretending you had grown a love for plants just to see him. Sometimes, he’d slip around his counter and lead you around, showing you his best sellers or his favourite plants. Most of the time, you wouldn’t remember it. You were just entirely in awe of him, of the way he smiled and pushed his lips out as he spoke. Everything about him gave you jitters, same as Jacob and Sangyeon, but so much more present because you felt like you were actually coming to know him better every day.

Walking in with a clamour, you found yourselves in a nearly empty diner. There was a man with a very long beard and a steaming cup of coffee who looked like he was just passing through for some late dinner to your left and a couple to your right. Nobody turned to look at you, not even the waiters who were talking amongst themselves. They clearly didn’t expect anyone to be coming in, much less rowdy kids who were besides themselves with happiness. An elderly lady made eye contact with you as your group found a booth and she grasped some menus to bring over.

“Anything to get you kids to start?” Her voice was high and sweet, stereotypical but comforting as she grazed her eyes over your little group.

Amalia took it upon herself to memorize your group’s ice cream orders, taking her rightful spot as group leader, as she liked to put it, and ordering ahead. Sunwoo leaned into you, whispering with a laugh on his tongue, “she’s so grown up.”

“Better her than me,” you hummed back, not caring much for the close proximity of your friend, who seemed surprised when you jabbed your finger in his chest, saying, “you could do with some growing up.”

“Don’t push him too hard,” Hyunjoon crooned, reached across the table, “his little brain can’t take too much responsibility at once.”

“Who?” Amalia asked as the waitress made her way to the back and Hyunjoon filled her in. Sunwoo seemed to want to protest but knew it would only dig him a bigger hole.

“Wait, is this progress?” you asked, gasping a bit. “Character development, maybe?”

“Our little baby,” Amalia hummed, wiping her hand under her eyes to catch nonexistent tears, “growing up so fast.”

Sunwoo’s lips came forwards, itching to say something but halfway through his defence (which no one was buying anyways), he stopped and huffed. Your head fell on his shoulder, arm snaking around his body to rub at his arm.

“Good thing is we still like you even though you’re a little dumb sometimes.”

Hyunjoon’s little smile grew for a second as he looked at you and Woo. Amalia snorted, telling you to speak for yourself. Sunwoo only cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck, suddenly meek and shy.

“Thanks.”

“Two chocolate ice creams, one mango, and one green tea,” the waitress announced lightly. She came behind Amalia, holding the styrofoam cups expertly and placing them down nicely on the table. Everyone reached for their own, telling her a sweet thank you before she took her leave.

“So, y/n,” Amalia started, looking at you over the rim of her cup, “how are things on the dating front?”

“Yeah, is your mom coming around since you got a plant and stuff?” Hyunjoon was quiet, though he looked genuinely interested as he dove into his cup. Sunwoo, who usually had much to say, stayed silent as he listened to you.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a bit down about it, “mum said the plant I bought was too easy to keep and whatever. I don’t know.”

It wasn’t that you necessarily had anyone you wanted to date, you just wanted the freedom and trust that went with it. All the people you had liked were too out of your league anyways, whether it be because of popularity or simply just age. You felt like a kid though, always having to tell your parents when and where you were going and with who. You just wished they’d sometimes maybe trust your judgement but there was no such luck on that front yet.

The ring of the front door nearly distracted you from Sunwoo’s question but you managed to pay enough attention despite the hushed laughter and snickers behind you.

“What about your dad?’

You shrugged. “You know him. It’s a team effort so if mom says no, dad says no too. They’ll have to agree on something together before I get any leeway.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not allowed either, so, you know.” Amalia’s lips turned down a bit as she kept her gaze down, spoon tapping at the ice cream.

“Really?” Hyunjoon asked, seriously concerned about that. The noises behind you grew into real voices, parts of sentences filtering through your ear.

“It’s not that, it’s just that…”

A little chuckle, “… like them and just don’t want to say it.”

“Shut up.” This one sounded much more familiar and it caused a hiccup to come through your lips. Sunwoo briefly glanced at you, murmuring, “you okay?”

A nod snapped you back to your present conversation, though you couldn’t help but think that maybe-

“- and you guys have met my parents. You know how much it means to them,” Amalia finished, biting the inside of her cheek. Reaching across the table, feeling entirely guilty about not listening to the whole story, you grasped her hand.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” you promised, pushing a smile for her. “We’ll convince our parents we’re worthy of being trusted. Going behind their backs will only make it worse so we’ve gotta do our best to stay honest.”

“Yeah, we’ll help you, if you need.” Hyunjoon seemed genuinely sympathetic, giving her an encouraging smile.

Sunwoo took his chance to be serious for once, hand resting on your forearm as a form of support. “Us four against the world, right?”

“Shut up,” Amalia giggled, rubbing at the corner of her eye to catch real tears this time, “you’re going to make me cry. Stop being nice, go back to making fun of Sunwoo.”

“Hey!” he protested, mouth open wide.

“Gladly,” Hyunjoon chuckled, at the same time. Only your hand was reluctant to let go of hers. The slightest squeeze from her helped you know she was okay.

“It’s on us this time, right?” Sunwoo fixed his jean jacket over his black t-shirt. He devoured food in seconds, always being the first one to finish. Amalia tried to protest but Hyunjoon pulled out his phone checking his notes.

Very quietly, he mumbled, “hold on, I’ve been keeping track,” and trailed off, focused now. His finger fell on his lips, which stuck out whenever he was focusing. Amalia leaned in closer, trying to see what was on the screen. Sunwoo leaned into you, eyes landing on your ice cream instead of a phone screen.

“Looks like its melting,” he stated plainly, giving you a nod. The second he opened his mouth to say more, you stuck your spoon with the rest of your ice cream onto his tongue, watching him clamp his mouth shut out of instinct.

“Not anymore.” Your smile was annoyingly smug, even for you, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the little action.

“It’s actually a free for all this time,” Joon chimed, letting everyone know. Sunwoo, pulling the spoon from his mouth, exhaled dramatically and went on a tangent about how he’s broke anyways.

Amalia, pulling you up from the table with you, mimicked Sunwoo’s facial expressions perfectly as he spoke, eliciting all too many stolen laughs. Grasping her hand lightly, you came forward and whispered, “hey, are you sure you’re okay.”

She shrugged, giving you another squeeze and murmuring, “it’s really not that big of a deal. I’ll get over it eventually.”

As you reached the counter, everyone proceeded to pull out their money. Stupidly, you forgot most of your cash at home and were now digging around in your pocket for change. The ice cream was relatively cheap but a few cents short wasn’t something you wanted to deal with- especially in front of your friends who hardly had issues with money despite lightly joking about it.

Muttering under your breath, checking your pockets, you nearly whined. Hyunjoon asked if you needed anything but, upon looking for his own change, realized he had none. He apologized quietly, hand on your shoulder for comfort. Sunwoo, who thought he was going to cover everyone’s food, also came short, and Amalia never carried cash.

The second you tried explaining yourself to the elderly waitress, who looked entirely exhausted, a familiar voice traveled up the tiled floors to you.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t need to turn your head to know who it was, feeling bubbles in your throat the second your eyes made contact. Chanhee’s little smile was sweet but there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked weary. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” you instantly tried to explain, not wanting him to know you came short. It was embarrassing for you, especially when it was someone you were interested in like this. Heat formed on your skin out of shyness, mouth opening and closing but not much coming out.

“Y/n’s just adding something to her tab,” Amalia offered, attempting to make a joke. Her laugh sounded forced and awkward, as did the other two’s laughs. “You know how it is.”

“Can I help?” His hand was already reaching for his wallet, which was sticking out of his pocket and covered in ridiculously bright stickers. You wanted to tell him no but really didn’t see any other option. The waitress wasn’t exactly letting up either, saying she didn’t know you or your friends well enough to let you just walk out unpaid.

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered, eyes torn from his and focusing hard on the floor. He only chuckled, pulling out five cents and handing it over.

“What are you doing here?”

The sudden conversation shift seemed to shock him, his mouth halfway through a sentence poking fun at a five-cent difference. Lips pouted outwards and eyebrows that travelled up his forehead, he exhaled a small laugh and said, “I was with my friend but he went home early because of a homework call or something. You?”

“Us,” Sunwoo stated, sounding relatively calm. When you glanced back at him, he had his hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels. His tongue darted out at you to get you to lighten up- you mimicked his actions.

“Oh sorry, right,” Chanhee hurried, looking a bit panicked that he hadn’t realized it. After finishing up his payment for his coffee, he quickly turned to introduce himself. His winning smile was now plastered on his face, the roundness in his cheeks adding to the softness of his look.

Names went around and then exchanges of plans for the next few moments. Everyone said they were going home and, while Hyunjoon seemed interested in asking publicly how the two of you met (which he already knew), it came to Chanhee’s attention that they lived in the opposite direction of you.

“Ah,” he drew out, nodding like he understood everything about the world now, “so that’s why I haven’t seen any of you at my store. It’s too much of a walk.”

You gave him a little chuckle, shy and entirely awkward in front of him and your friends. You knew it was up to you to be inviting and help him feel welcome but the situation coupled with your lack of funds simply made you turned off to everything that was happening. You became cold and unresponsive in a way that was adding tension, which made you want to withdraw more.

Amalia, noticing it easily, quickly found a way to excuse herself and the boys. “Well, they’re meant to walk me home so we’ll take our leave now, won’t we boys?”

She was very proper around people she hardly knew, adding an air of elegance to her as she led the two away. Hyunjoon waved to you, understanding what Amalia meant to do, while Sunwoo was a bit harder to convince. They looked like a parent and a child bickering with each other under their breaths before he broke and wished you a goodnight.

As the group split, you and Chanhee leaving the store and walking towards to left while the others went right, you felt some release. It was easier to be yourself around Chanhee because he seemed to care less sometimes. He was so light that he seemed to take that lightness with him and sprinkle it on the path he was walking on so anyone who walked beside him felt just as airy. As you stepped on clouds with him, you apologized.

“I’m sorry again, for the money and for making it awkward.” Your apology was coupled with nervous laughter but the boy beside you just shook his head.

“It’s fine. Though, I do expect a five cent donation at my store for saving you just then.”

“Deal,” you breathed, extending your hand towards him. He shook it, smiling deeply. The way his hand seemed to linger for just a second longer than it should have made you breathless. A side effect of floating was a lack of oxygen. He seemed to make you go higher and higher, making it harder to breathe along the way.

“By the way,” he started, going on a completely different line of conversation. HIs hands were now clasped behind his back and his gaze was forwards, somehow serious but trying to remain friendly. “I hope you’re not embarrassed about the money thing. It’s really okay to be short sometimes.

“They can be a bit crabby at times there but most places here are understanding. Trust me, you’re not weird or anything, I’ve been in that situation many times.”

You blinked, not fully understanding but wanting to. “Really?”

He hummed, making a low noise. He seemed to look at you from the corner of his eye before turning a bit to keep his gaze on you now. There was something serene about him, something that brought your heart rate down and relaxed you into your bones.

“I’ve bounced between almost all the jobs in this town and the next. My parents didn’t come from much and it’s been hard making a lot so I wanted to help. It feels embarrassing at first, sure. Makes you feel like everyone’s looking at you when you don’t quite have enough money- at least for me, that’s what to was like,” he admitted, nodding again to himself.

“It just motivated me to work harder, though. There’s no point in looking at things that put you ‘behind’, so to speak, in a negative way. It’ll just make you feel worse about it.” He used his fingers as quotation marks, somewhat exaggerated in his speech but saying rather thoughtful things.

“Turn what people think is bad and make it good,” you finished for him, wanting to let him know that you were paying attention. He nodded, coming a big closer to you so your shoulders touched briefly. The lights on the pavement kept him in constant illumination, not that he really needed it. He shone just fine on his own.

“There you go.”

You didn’t know what to say. Thanking him felt ridiculous and painfully obvious to do but saying nothing felt rude. Just as you were thinking up a response, he thought aloud, “you know, I don’t think I’ve told lots of people that before. About my parents, I mean.”

Eyes widening, you instantly began, “o-oh, I’m sorry if you felt pressured to-”

His little chuckle interrupted you, a shake of his head very exaggerated. “No, I wanted to say it. I- I want to get to know you better so I should share too.”

Well, that was forward.

Once again, you dropped your eyes to the floor out of shyness, though you did find yourself beaming this time. “O-oh.”

“I know your parents are still being weird about the dating thing so I’m sorry if that was too much,” he added immediately, also seemingly embarrassed. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. It was unbelievable to you that someone so amazing was actually interested in you- a little grade ten that stayed cooped up in your room and had to get permission to do things even now.

“No, no,” you immediately protested, not realizing your hands as they reached out. One managed to grasp at his arm as you assured him, “it’s okay, I- I feel the same, I want that t-too.”

The words felt ridiculous to say but also freeing in a way, like keeping all of your emotions bottled in were what made you feel so heavy all the time. From then, Chanhee’s expression seemed to pick up. He grinned, getting excited as he decided to concoct a plan with you on your walk home. The way he smiled made your heart race, listening along to all he had to say and agreeing without thinking much about it.

I remember meeting you so much after that. We basically had little dates of our own and we talked all the time. I always felt so grateful whenever you took me out to food on your breaks even though I knew you needed the money or perhaps more time to work. You would never hear it though, clicking your tongue at me and telling me all these places we had to go together. You would even grasp my arm and skip, telling me to live a little when I wouldn’t play along right away. You made me so shy, you know? And telling you all of this seemed impossible until then- when you told me you were interested just the same.

After that, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you. I used to do my homework and wonder what you were doing. Did you ever think about me that much? I never built up the courage to ask, though I doubt I’d ever get a response. I just hope you know that you made me very happy, no matter what. Even though I know I disappointed you, I hope I made you happy- even if it was just once. That would mean I did something right with us, which was all I ever wanted to do. I just wanted to be right. I’m sorry it didn’t turn out that way for us.

Early November, 2015

You had planned to go on a date with Chanhee. You plotted and exchanged numbers and talked everyday. It was amazingly easy to speak to him, especially when he always had something on his tongue to say. Sometimes he would call when you asked for help on a problem you were stuck on, though he’d get suspicious of the work you were doing. Jokingly, he’d ask why you were doing easy questions. He loved to tease but he could take it just the same, mentioning how he’s usually the butt of everyone’s jokes.

“Not that it bothers me,” he murmured nonchalantly, the clock clicking past midnight as you both lay in bed, chatting away quietly, “it’s not like I think they’re meaning to be mean to me so it’s okay. It’s fun when I can turn it back on them too.”

His laugh would ring through your ears and lull you to sleep. The best nights were when he’d sing to you or send you videos of his recorded covers. The more you spoke and the few times you passed each other in the halls- the one time you ate lunch together on the bleachers even- the more you just wanted to be around him. It got to the point where Haymond knew and if Haymond knew, your parents weren’t too far behind.

“I won’t tell them,” Haymond promised, clicking away at his computer as he listened to your stories. He’d gotten more patient with you, always having an open ear and mind about these things but this was different. He seemed to genuinely be trying to be a good brother for you.

“But you will.”

You began to protest it but didn’t want to risk getting too loud and simply whined that you wouldn’t. He was right though. Eventually, you cracked when your mother asked who it was you were smiling at as you texted Chanhee the day of your date. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to tell your mother about him that just her asking sent you into a fit of conversation; and gosh, what a long conversation that was.

She sat you down trying to be calm, trying to ask you who he was and how you met him. It was all okay and she even liked what she was hearing until you mentioned his age, and then mentioned that you lied about your age. From that moment on, the air shifted and she was disapproving, not to mention the date you were also going to lie to her about. Your father came and sat down beside her, perpendicular to you in the living room. Both had their hands folded and were leaned in towards you, concerned and asking you questions.

“Why did you lie?”

“Did he pressure you into anything?”

The list went on and on until you felt tears pricking at your eyes. You knew you were wrong and couldn’t believe yourself either but seeing it- hearing it from them- it changed everything. Now, you just felt like an attention-seeking liar and it was the thing you never wanted to be. After quite a lot of speaking, you picked up your phone, took a deep breath, and began typing.  

Y/n, 5:20 p.m: hey, I have something kind of important to tell you today.

Chanhee, 5:22 p.m: please don’t tell me you’re in love with me yet lolol

Chanhee, 5:22 p.m: it’ll be the death of me, we’ll have to get ~ married ~

The smile that reached your cheeks at that immediately made you upset. Would he still be as light and joke around with you after he knew. You stuck your fingernail between your teeth as your mum looked over your shoulder, urging you on.

Y/n, 5:23 p.m: nothing like that ~

Y/n, 5:24 p.m: swear not to hate me?

Chanhee, 5:26 p.m: no promises

Your mother looked at you, being very firm now but also trying to be comforting all of the sudden. With her hand on your lower back, she rubbed circles into it and murmured, “I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t start off lying to someone and expect me to be okay with that. I thought you were more responsible than that.”

“I am,” you tried to press, wanting to convince her but knowing that whining wasn’t helping your case. She gave you a quick look, complete disbelief on her face.

“It’s really not looking like it right now.”

Sitting down on your bed, you let out a little huff. Your hands dared to go on your face, palms pressing against your skin as you felt the severity of your little fib. Everything would’ve been fine if you didn’t lie, and age wasn’t really a big deal but keeping the lie for so long was. How many times had you mentioned how hard grade eleven was, or boasted about a mark you got and how happy you were that it’d go on your transcript for universities to see? What was worse was that you felt like he wouldn’t forgive you for it. He mentioned once he appreciated honesty over anything and there you were, standing in front of him, holding your tongue about something so stupid.

Chanhee was sitting in front of you, hands covered in mittens that had the fingers cut off, wearing a calm look. He had no idea what you were about to say, probably thinking it was another one of your jokes. As his fingers curled around his little mug of coffee, his lips curved lightly into a smile.

“You look really nice today,” he chimed, wanting to get it out before anything else. He pointed at your head, chuckling a bit before saying, “although your hair’s a mess.”

“Hey,” you whined, reaching up to try and fix it but knowing you couldn’t without a mirror. He only chuckled, bringing a little rush of wind with you. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he chose an outdoor table in the middle of winter; but it was an empty patio and no one could hear you. That, at least, you were grateful for.

“Look, I feel really bad about what I’m going to say so I just want you to listen if that’s okay.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, embarrassed now but for a completely different reason. Finding yourself picking at your nails, somehow you managed to start. Your tongue exposed yourself quickly, thinking it would be easier to just rip it off like a band-aid. Knowing it didn’t seem like a big deal, there were worse things to lie about than age, you hoped he wouldn’t be too upset. The reaction you got wasn’t necessarily what you would’ve wanted.

“What about that time you talked about how scared you were for university applications? Why did you make that all up?”

He seemed to be picking apart every conversation you had, confused and conflicted. You watched him go through all the stages of understanding and anger but he finally decided to detach himself, saying he didn’t think he could listen to it anymore. Slowly and politely, he pushed his chair out and walked around to grasp his coat off the back of it.

“Chanhee, please, I’m sorry,” you attempted, getting up yourself. Kicking back so quickly caused the chair to fall, echoing off the walls of the store.

His mouth became slanted, like he genuinely believed you. The coat he had on was black and long, making him look like a figure painted into a grey sky. As he fixed his collar, he said, “I know you are. I just don’t know what to say. This just seems really childish to me.”

“That’s what my mum said,” you muttered, retreating further into your shell. Your back was suddenly concave, eyebrows pressed in and lips pressed out.

Chanhee laughed somehow, though it felt rather cold. “You would say that.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I just need some air, y/n,” he started, waving his hand around. The other was fixed in his pocket. “I know we’re outside, I just need to be alone.”

“Do you think-”

“No, I don’t think we should see each other like this,” he interrupted, being rather blunt but you appreciated it. Words like these didn’t hurt as much when they took longer to hear. You just nodded, not being able to look him in the eye. Slowly, you felt his arms wrap around your shoulders, bringing you closer to his chest.

Jokingly, he hummed, “I get it though. Why you lied, I mean. It’s real hard to resist, huh?”

You found yourself laughing at his joke, hugging him as tight as you could. The tears that fell down your face felt ridiculous and you wished he hadn’t seen them. His smile was so soft, as were the napkins he picked from the table and used to dab at your cheeks.

“I’ll see you around?” Your voice cracked as you asked, taking the tissues into your own hands. This time, when your hands brushed, no spark rose in your chest. You knew the airiness he’d given you- those little butterflies in your stomach- that was all long gone.

He nodded, telling you to come by his store again. “You know when I work.”

With that, he was off. His leather bag was secured firmly on his shoulder, working perfectly with his outfit. He looked slender and sleek walking away from you, not even daring to give you a look back. You couldn’t say you blamed him, though it did make you feel helpless. How were you just constantly making mistakes left, right and forwards?

Not knowing what else to do, you picked up your phone and dialled the only number you knew by heart. A few rings in had you worried but when he finally answered, you let out the breath you were holding.

“Y/n?” Eric asked, sounding slightly panicked. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” you whispered, picking up your chair to sit back down at the table. Your tears stuck to your cheeks as you spoke to the person you knew listened to you best. He stayed with you on the phone until you went home.

There’s no doubt that you captured everyone’s hearts when they came to your store. So many people came to see you and I just happened to be one of those few customers that caught your eye. I felt lucky enough to even be friends with you and everything else after was just a dream. I’m sorry for lying to you though. You deserved honesty from the start and I realize now that two years difference, especially for us, would have been too much. I still appreciate every time you talked to me after though there was a change. You pulled away and we eventually stopped talking and I didn’t fight it. You had every right to be upset with me or to distrust me.

The only thing I want to ask you is to not dislike me too much. I realize how awkward I was, how absolutely childish and ridiculous I acted. I’ll try harder from now on, I promise, so I don’t make this mistake again. If anything, just know that I’ll still pick up the phone if you call. I miss our little chats. I miss you.

From y/n y/l/n. On November 28th, 2015.

Immediately after finishing, Chanhee’s fingers found his phone. The sun streaming in through the store window caused a glare and he hissed, having to turn around to look for your number. He knew he had it. He never deleted it, not even after he graduated and went off to his college and job and new life. Other contacts around you he could let go of but somehow, he never could for you. Biting down on his lip, he realized he missed you too. Whether it was friendly or not, you always gave him a lightness in his chest that he felt he needed. As much as you said he swept you off your feet, you did the same.

“Come on, pick up,” he murmured, foot tapping impatiently against the floor. Hating the sound of that, he began to pace again, going in and out of his room. Just as he was about to hang up, the line connected and he held his breath.

“Chanhee?”

Your voice was crisp and sweet. He didn’t know how to place it but you sounded older and it made his breath hitch a bit. Then, suddenly, he could say everything he had been holding back.

“I don’t hate you, y/n,” he started suddenly, eyebrows crossing each other, “why would you say that?”

You chuckled nervously. The sound of cars was faint in the background of your call. “Chanhee, what are you talking about?”

“Your letter. The one you wrote me like three years back.” He was serious now, rather upset you didn’t seem to be understanding. You sent the letters after all, why didn’t you understand what he was saying now?

“W-what?”

“Your letter,” he repeated slowly, hating how condescending he sounded.

“Yeah, what? How did you get that?”

He blinked, stopping in his spot in the middle of his hallway. His free hand was still clutching the paper. “You didn’t send it?”

“No, I-” you began to stutter, like you would whenever you got super nervous. Not knowing what else to say, you quickly excused yourself and hung up, leaving Chanhee in shock. What he wanted to tell you was not even close to being said and honestly, he was more confused than before, especially after hearing the panic in your voice.

“Listen, Chanhee, I don’t know who sent you that letter b- but please don’t read it. If you see anyone else with those, please rip them in half, I- oh fuck, I’m screwed, I’ll- I- I’ll talk to you later.”

The dead line ringing filled his ears.

[glamrockmonarch]

I loooove your blog and your little imagines!! I see your requests are open, and I’m not sure if you write anything longer, but if you wrote something a little angsty for BrianxReader with inspo from “Sail Away Sweet Sister” I would die on the spot

A/N: have been meaning to write a full series based on this song (like sooooo sososo SO bad!) , but I don’t know man… anyway, I hope you enjoy this short piece! 

You watched the band come back from the stage into their dressing room. It had been too long since the last time you saw your brother and his bandmates.

Your studies swept you away from England as you studied natural wildlife in Greymouth, New Zealand on a scholarship you could not pass on.

It had been years, you heard of Roger’s success with his band and had your family send you their records but once you set foot back in England and now hearing the roar of the crowd you were made fully aware of how successful and famous his band actually was. Queen was huge. The boys were taking over the scene, and there you were at last.

Wearing a dark black pair of flared velvet pants and a white blouse, your almost new high heels still felt rough from lack of use, but you felt that you looked your best when you were comfortable.

Your breathing became irregular once you heard the voices coming from the hallway, Miami had helped you and your mother set this up so you could meet again and surprise your brother. And he was shocked when he entered the room, laughing and joking with Freddie as his eyes landed on you.

Your figure was so foreign to him now. Although you had sent photos, it was obvious that you were no longer the child that left the nest almost 5 years prior. He looked different too, his hair and his face…you were taken aback, somehow you felt he looked more than just five years older. 

Regardless of his sweaty figure, you opened your arms at him, excited to catch up and recover the connection you had and that couldn’t be fed through the mail. 

“Hey, stranger!” You pushed your dirty blond locks away from your face by tucking them behind your ears.

Roger pushed his palms against Deaky’s chest and left him to catch his bloody drumsticks when he rushed to wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N! Monkey!” He picked you up and spun you around. “Oh, I missed you.”

When your older brother put you down he stared at your face and held your hands in his sore ones.

“You look so…so different, Y/N!”

You giggled at this and brought your hand to his bleached hair, it was shorter than you remember it being before. Leaving London in 76, you guessed some things were bound to change. 

“You’re one to talk!” You mocked him, a hint of a kiwi accent coming through.

Roger rolled his eyes and put his arm around your shoulders, he pulled you to his side and kissed the top of your head as he faced his bandmates.

“I don’t think you remember Y/N,” he started, “she is my youngest sister, the one who actually went to school.”

“So not all Taylor’s are lost!” Deaky teased your brother.

As everyone came to say hi, you noticed Brian’s hand shaking when he took yours.

In fact, Brian remembered you. Back in the Smile days, you would sneak out of your parents’ home to go see Roger play. The only reason why you were ever even allowed inside the bars was that you were related to the drummer. Your fighting at the end of the night would be massive, messy, and even Brian has to admit hurtfully. Back then you were nothing but a child, at 14 you were still finding your place in the world…but now…

As Brian spoke to you he realised you did not just look like a woman, you were a young one now! His eyes kept going between your eyes to your lips, and to your cleavage. He couldn’t help it, last time he saw you, you were a little more than a child.

And Brian had always had something about him that made your heartbeat speed up, and your face become warm. 

As the night progressed you could see your brother getting more comfortable with sharing about his life with you. Now you were more grown up and he assumed you had a bit more experience, he did not mind talking about his ways with women.

“But I thought you had a girlfriend?” You muttered.

You shook your head and felt Roger’s arms shaking you by the shoulders.

“Tell us, Miss Kiwi, did you break too many hearts when you left?”

You blushed at your Brother’s question, as a matter of fact, you had to break up with your boyfriend before leaving. The young man insisted on marrying you, he wanted you to stay but you couldn’t just do that…you had your family to go back to! A whole life back in England.

“I guess…” you joked.

Roger cheered at this and clung his drink with yours.

“Wouldn’t be a Taylor if you didn’t!”

At the end of the night you were supposed to go home with Roger but of course, he was lost in the crowd with some girl. Already tired and bored with the amount of socialising required from you tonight, you looked for one of Roger’s friends to help. The easiest one to find was Brian due to his tall skinny figure. Finding him you tapped him on the shoulder as he leant on the bar talking to some girls.

The pair of blondes gave you daggers when Brian turned over his shoulder to see you.

You have a similar expression of discomfort to the one Roger has; your brows knitted together with doe eyes sunken and a slight pout on your lips that formed a straight line.

“Y/N, what is it?” Brian leant down so he could listen to you clearly.

“I…I think Rog is with a girl, and I need a ride home-well…to a hotel now, I guess.”

You waited for Brian’s response, he frowned and turned to the girls.

“Excuse me,” he apologised to them and turned to you, he placed his hand on your arm and pulled you away softly. “I thought you were staying with Rog.”

“I was!” You shrugged as you approached the entrance. “But he is with some girl…”

“You can stay at my place tonight.” Brian blinked a few times in a second. “No need to make it weird between siblings in the morning.”

You thanked him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it with a large smile on your face. After you both picked up your coats, you made your way out of the venue and Brian walked with you to his car, both of you surrounded by a small herd of bodyguards. You were surprised by the big changes since the days of playing in bars and getting beers as payment. 

You talked about your lives the past couple of years and chatted all the way to his place. You turned a little in the comfortable cream-coloured seat and watched Brian’s profile illuminated by the street lights. 

“What do you mean “you could really see the stars”? You can see them here just fine! Well, with proper equipment…”

You laughed at Brian’s outrage and explained to him that the shore was quiet and you had the chance of spending many nights there.

“Must have been lonely.” Brian pulled up in front of his house.

“Oh, I was rarely alone! My boyfriend was quite adventurous, he liked to tag along…”

“Well, don’t tell Roger that!”

You stepped out of Brian’s car and went inside his house once he opened the door for you.

“Well, it’s a lot better than that tiny apartment you used to rent! You lot have made it big, I see!” You scanned the house as you came in and watched Brian close the door and lock it, dropping his keys on a table near the entrance.

“You like this? Oh, you should see Freddie’s place!”

You smiled and chuckled, only imagining what things Freddie might actually have in his home. With that you turned and looked at Brian, it felt almost like it was the first time that night. Without the sound of music blasting in the background or a crowd around you; you could see that Brian looked less boyish now, he had grown up as your brother had. As all of you had. His jaw seemed stronger, covered in the shade of a beard, and his nose even longer, but his eyes remained gentle.

You pushed your hair behind your ears and looked away from him once you realised you had been staring and heard him call out your name wondering what you were thinking from across the hall.

“Nothing, nothing…” you covered your mouth with your hand. “Uhm…should I take the couch?”

Brian smiled and laughed at you, shaking his head.

“Of course not!” He patted your arm and made you follow him. “You can get the bed, my treat! Wait-“ he paused and smiled at the ground blinking repeatedly “that didn’t sound right… Sorry.”

You smiled and bit your lip, in secret you fed your childish crush on your older brother’s guitarist friend.

“I wouldn’t mind it honestly.” You blurted out before the words could be processed by your brain.

To cover it up a bit you laughed, but shut up, cursing at yourself in silence.

Brian led you to his room and walked in before you, he put out a shirt and some shorts for you to borrow, taking his own pyjamas before saying goodnight.

Although Brian had seen you in pictures Roger sometimes showed him, he hadn’t expected you would no longer be making silly jokes and commenting on things such as the colour of his socks. Answering back with flirtatious comments, swaying your hips as you walked with confidence, standing up straight to face anyone and everyone who came to talk to you. Yes, you were a lady alright; and still, you were his best friend’s little sister.

“Goodnight, I’ll be in the living room.” He announced, “in case you need anything.”

“I can take the sofa, really, I don’t mind.” You stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

His gaze fell on your tanned hand around his paler wrist, your lips parted as if you wanted to say something but you stopped yourself and waited for his eyes to come up to meet your e/c eyes. Once they did, you saw the same thing you had seen in his hazel eyes many years before when you confessed your feelings for him before accepting the scholarship. He had said he loved you “as a little sister” and that it would never change. It broke your young naive heart, but it also helped shape you into the person you became during the years you spent away.

“Goodnight,” Brian repeated.

You sighed and turned to him, placing a kiss on his cheek, for which he leant down.

It was after you changed and put your clothes on a neat pile of folded garments on the counter in his bathroom that you got under the covers of his comfortable bed. Trying to fall asleep you could not help but feel annoyed at how much you wanted to speak to Brian.

You huffed and turned on your side. He was still attractive and smart and sweet…and you were still Roger’s little sister. You groaned turning on your other side.

Brian had been so nice to that young 17 year old you, he encouraged you to study whatever you liked when Roger was too busy being the centre of attention. The talented drummer and amazing back-up singer. 

You remembered Brian’s words.

“I am flattered, and don’t get me wrong Y/N: I love you…just not the way you think you love me. You’re too young for that. And even if you weren’t, you must take the scholarship! It’ll be wonderful for you.”

You kicked the covers off and sat at the edge of the bed for a minute before calming down and wandering through the dark hallway. The only audible thing was the sound of your bare feet stepping on his cold marble floor.

“Bri?” Your voice came out soft and quiet.

You heard him hum in response and wrapped your arms around your own body at the sound, gentle and surprised. Brian sat up.

“What is it?” He cleaned his eyes from sleep and watched you.

In front of him, you were standing in his shirt and shorts looking nothing less than adorable. He gave you a toothy grin.

You came to stand closer to him, he had to throw his head back to see you as you stepped between his knees. With a soft smile, you reached in order to touch his nose with your index finger, dragging it along his cheek towards his ear and then back to his jaw.

“Brian, do you remember what you said to me before I left?”

He did. He had been thinking about it since he spotted you tonight.

“Has anything changed since?” You combed his curls with your fingers.

Brian smiled and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand into his. You noticed his fingers are calloused. He kissed your open palm as he used to do when you were younger and staying over at his and the band’s place for tea instead of going back home to finish your homework.

“Everything changed.” He admitted. “You were not meant to come back.” 

You leant down and Brian’s nose grazed yours, his arms wrapped around your middle. 

“But I did.” You replied in a whisper.

For a moment it looked like you saying it was a relief to Brian. He turned his face against yours and pressed his nose against your cheek. You knew at that moment that it was both of you who had secretly remained hopeful that you would come back and that the feelings would be mutual. Now you did not know what to say, so you slid your hands out of his hair and cupped his cheeks, pulling him away only for a brief moment before you tried to kiss his lips. 

“Don’t….” Brian pulled away, regretting it in a matter of seconds. “Y/N,k you are still Y/N!”

Your hands fell off of him and you took a step back. He did not want you, he did not see you the way you saw him and it was wrong for you to keep feeding all of these idiotic feelings for a man who was so clearly not into you. 

“Still little, right? Forget it.” 

You rushed to leave him, running back to his bedroom feeling the sting of tears coming up your throat and threaten to come out. It seemed now like being a third wheel would have been a much better option.

[bohrapbois]

Full Marks

CHAPTER 2

Description - Ben just so happens to fall head over heels for a Mysterious Man who loves baseball and cracking terrible jokes. Mysterious Man also turns out to be the father of one of Ben’s students.

Warnings - Full blown relationship Hardzello, with plenty of angst, fluff and future smut.

Word Count- 2,152 

Frankie was the love of Ben’s life, and he would do anything short of murder for her. She was the only girl in the states who had his heart, and that’s the way it’ll always be, until the day he died. It didn’t matter that she was a dog, she had him wrapped around her little paw. That’s how she was currently eating packaged ham, which was meant to be saved for Ben’s dinner. But honestly, the way her eyes lit up each time he tossed her some more, Ben didn’t care if he starved. His baby was happy, so he was happy too.

It was early afternoon, sometime after two, and Ben had just finished his marathon of Brooklyn-Nine-Nine, so it was time to walk off some of the Doritos and burn through some of the coffee he just gulped down. Unlike most dogs, who get excited when they see their leash in their owner’s hands, Frankie either hid or stood stock still. This time, she sprinted through the cramped kitchen and ducked under the wonky coffee table. Ben sighed, leash in hand, and contributed to the five minute chase of catching his dog to go for a walk. The funny thing is, Frankie loves walks, and will take forever doing her business and tugging Ben after any animal she sees, but she just doesn’t like the leash. Adopting her as a stray pup from Animal Ark, Ben thought it’d be easy, a little companion for when his mind goes to those dark places. Gwil thought it was a good idea too, which is why he kept the little pup found in a cardboard box to one side until his friend could come in and see her. But it turns out, along with a pup comes a lot of chaos. So under a year worth of mayhem later, the household has accepted to go with the flow of the furballs destruction.

Finally clipping her leash to her collar, Ben cheered in victory. He grabbed his keys from the mess on the side table, and before Frankie could tug herself free, they both were outside and the front door locked behind them. Ben grinned down at his companion, who glared back before changing moods completely and darting off, knowing Ben would rather sprint alongside her than tug on her collar. So, the two were down the street and well on their way to the big park before anyone really noticed.

As feet and paws moved from tarmac to grass, they slowed, both panting and taking a moment to get their breathes back. It was a mutual thing, for them to get to the park and begin walking, so Ben didn’t mind the sprint to get there. His fitness was well maintained, anyway.

The two strolled, Ben nattering down to the beagle as if they were having a normal conversation. The park was big enough that no one found it overly weird to see a grown man talking to his dog. Ben knew it was a bad habit, but he tugged out a cigarette and his trusty lighter, and continued his train of thought whilst he smoked. Frankie didn’t care, even if Gwil tried again and again to throw his packs away. It was good source of comfort and helped him think when he was deep in his own mind.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Franks,” Ben kicked at the dirt, one eye on his dog (investigating under a bush) and the other on a baseball game going on in the distance. When he first came over, Ben never really understood the hype surrounding baseball, and didn’t really now either. It was similar to a game he used to play called rounders, so Ben guessed that seeing another variation of the game wasn’t actually that exciting.

He drew a smoke, holding it in for moment before blowing the smoke out, repeating the process as he watched the teams swap side. This town was big on baseball, and there was usually a game of sorts going on every weekend. The participants of this match seemed good enough, coordinating shirts colours into greens and reds, with reds now fielding.

Ben gave a gentle tug on Frankie’s leash, and she came out from under the bush, covered up to her chest in dirt and dust but that’s a future Ben problem. Now Ben problem is how he wants to get closer to the game. Taking slow drags from his cigarette, Ben wandered over, trying to make sense on how certain balls were called fouls. He frowned, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stamping it out. Oddly, Frankie stayed near his side, and when they were close enough, his little lady sat down, also seemed transfixed by the game. For a couple of minutes, they just watched. The greens were pretty good, and both teams seemed to be taking it very seriously. Ben wasn’t close enough to see who was actually on what team, but he could hear the shouts of excitement/annoyance. He heard someone curse out Dave, who was a barista in ‘Delilah’ (Alright coffee, let dogs in, so Ben would sometimes go there when he didn’t know what else to do), and watching Dave run, yep, that's barista Dave.

The old bleachers seemed to have a few families on, and Ben thought he could make out Lucy’s blonde hair. Another vet, she and Gwil got on well, like brother and sister. She seemed to be there with her mysterious boyfriend she’d mentioned to Gwil a few times but never introduced. Ben’s nosy side flared up, and he started walking a bit closer, but not close enough to be spotted. Or so he thought.

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

Beth didn’t mind sitting and watching her dad play - he loved the game, and she did too - but sometimes she got distracted. Sitting with Uncle Rami and Lucy, she fiddled with the bottom of her shorts, pulling on a loose thread as she looked around, eyes cast out further than the game. There was someone standing far off and it looked like he had a dog. Beth perked up. She’d be asking her dad for a dog for awhile, and he was starting to agree with her, but if she showed that she was good, she knew she could get one quicker. She watched as they stood in the distance, but much to her delight, the figure started approaching. Beth was practically vibrating in her seat waiting until the perfect moment to prove to her dad that she is ready for a dog.

She bounds up, deciding now was better than ever, and jumped down the bleachers she’s grown up on. She ignores Uncle Rami shouting after her and makes it to the grass unstopped. She races across the ground, and notices that the owner is very familiar.

“Mr. Hardy!” She screamed in excitement, which caught both her teachers and fathers attention. She barrels on, her teacher looking shocked to see a six year old approaching rapidly in a full sprint.

Behind her, her father notices what’s going on, “ah shit,” he leaves his position. His daughter is quick, always has been, and it was at this moment that Joe wished he was quicker. She was sprinting towards a mysterious figure, and his fear kicked in.

“ELIZABETH!” He screamed, legs picking up pace in a desperate attempt to catch up with her. The shouts from his team mates (he missed the ball thrown in his direction, more concerned with his own flesh and blood) were only a second thought as he watched his daughter barrel into the legs of the blond man. The man stumbled, Beth still holding his legs, before he fell backwards, landing heavily on his ass.

Eventually, the frantic father got to the two still on the floor. He scooped up his daughter, “Elizabeth! What were you thinking?” He checked her over, ignoring her muttered, “it’s Beth, dad,” before putting her back down and turning his attention to the guy on the floor.

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

Ben only had a moment to brace himself after hearing one of his students scream his name before Beth barrelled full speed into his legs. He managed to stumble backwards before falling onto his backside, grunting his curses as he took the full weight of a six year old to his knees and groin. Frankie ran around him, pulling at her leash in confusion and panic, before Ben reached over and grabbed her close, counting up to ten before trying to move. He ached, but would survive, although he’s not planning on moving too much right at the moment.

Beth was pulled off of him, and Ben just focused on breathing and petting Frankie, before he felt a weight on his shoulder. “You alright, man?” Ben glanced up at the new voice, and gasped.

Mystery Man from yesterday was kneeling beside him. Hazel eyes scanned the blonds face, and Ben couldn’t help but notice how when Mystery Man frowned, he pouted. “Umm-” Ben pulled Frankie onto his lap as she began to settle “-yeah, just a bit sore”. Using his dog as an excuse, Ben focused on stroking Frankie, eyes falling onto her knowing eyes. If he hadn’t, he’d have definitely done something stupid.

“I’m so sorry for Elizabeth,” Mystery Man stood, silencing his complaining child with a well measured glance, ���she can just get a bit excitable”.

“Nah, it’s alright man,” Ben inwardly cringed Why the hell did I call him ‘man’? The first hot guy in ages and you ‘man’ him. Fucking great. “She’s one of my students, actually”.

“Oh!” Ben pulled his eyes from Frankie’s incredibly interesting fur and squinted up at Mystery Man. He seemed pleasantly excited, smiling at his daughter (who was now holding his hand) and back at Ben, “Beth told me she had a new teacher! I’m Joe, her dad!” He thrusted forward his free hand, and for an awkward moment, Ben didn’t move to take it. Kicking himself again, Ben gently pushed Frankie off his lap and reached up and grabbed Joe’s hand. Joe didn’t hesitate and pulled Ben up until he was standing.

Joe was slightly shorter than Ben, but well built. Not muscular, but not scrawny either. Ben smiled, and faked enough confidence to shake his hand. “Ben”. Joe’s hair was hidden under a baseball cap, but enough was curling around his ears that Ben knew his observation from yesterday was true - yes, they both had the same hair colour. It seemed to glow in the afternoon sun.

“That’s a lot better than me calling you ‘Mr. Hardy’ in my head. Imagined you to be in your late forties or something,” Joe laughed, and the two hands separated. “Ben suits you”.

“Oh, um, thanks?” Ben laughed awkwardly, not knowing if to take the fact his name suits him as a compliment or not. “Yeah, better than calling you Mr. Mazzello”.

“Ew, don’t”. Joe rolled his eyes, ignoring his daughter who was now pulling on his hand as she crouched to pet Frankie, who, honestly, loved having a kids attention. “Mr. Mazzello was my father’s name”.

“Joe it is”. Ben grinned, glancing over to the baseball match. They all seemed to be calling for Joe to return. At the same time, the usual guy who picks up Beth was approaching, stopping by Joe’s side.

“Beth! Don’t ever run off like that again!” Green eyes crouched down, gently grabbing the little girl by the chin and pulling her to face his direction, “you can’t just do that! I was very scared”. Beth pouted, but nodded, wrapping little arms around the guys neck. He scooped her up, holding her close. It was only then when he turned to Ben. “Hey,” he nodded, looking between Ben and Joe.

“Oh, ugh yeah! This is Rami,” Joe gestured towards Green eyes, and Ben smiled in greeting. “He usually picks up Beth”.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around a few times,” Ben kicked at the ground before nodding back towards the game. “You better go back”.

“Yeah,” Joe sighed, raising his arm towards his team. They seemed to settle, going back to talking between themselves rather than shouting at Joe. Rami nodded towards the two before walking off with Beth in his arms, the two talking about responsibilities. “You gonna come watch? We have a few more rounds to go”.

“Nah, better not,” again, Frankie sat calmly at Ben’s side, lazily blinking up between her owner and the new man. Ben gestured at his dog, “she’s had enough excitement for one day”.

“She’s very cute,” Joe ducked down to give her a scratch behind her ears. Great - even Ben’s dog likes Joe now. Ben grinned as Joe stood up again, and with a raised hand as a farewell, Joe started jogging backwards, only turning around when Ben tugged on Frankie’s leash and the two made their way back home.

Tag List -

@benhardy-1 @hey-holtzy

[andaleduardo]

Rooftop N.1

Ao3   N.2

Summary: It’s no secret that Richie Tozier has a thing to enter through bedroom windows in the middle of the afternoon. It’s always been like this between them for most of middle school.

However, when high school started, Eddie put a break on these encounters. One night during senior year, Richie and Eddie find themselves sitting side by side on the rooftop of the Kaspbrak’s house.

Seems like old habits die hard.

Monday   19.04.1993

  Richie wasn’t really thinking as he made his way up, grabbing onto tree branches, plumbing pipes and dented outside walls. But once again, he wasn’t really thinking when he descended out of his own window at 11:29 p.m. or when he got on his bike after that to make his way through a very familiar neighbourhood.

 His hands were numb, a couple of scratches visible from his climb. Once he steadied himself on the roof, he carefully peered inside the window in front of him. His only light source being the moon and the room itself, lighted up by a soft lamp.

He spotted Eddie by his desk, head buried in the crook of his arm.

’Maybe he's asleep.'

   Richie tried to open the window from the outside but failed, which made him lose his balance. Inside the room, his source of admiration stood still, unaware of the movement. So, Richie knocked on the cold surface of the window with the metal of his rings, loud enough to make Eddie raise his head and look over to the source of the sound.

   His face looked funny, Richie thought. Tired sleepy eyes and mouth agape from his momentary nap. Eddie’s eyes opened fully as he stared dumbfounded at the boy outside his window. Richie watched him wipe the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand in a rush, which made him smile. Eddie always made him smile.

   Back in the ninth grade Richie started coming over to Eddie’s, ignoring the existence of a front door and rather much choosing to climb through his window just to hang out all afternoon. Eddie would always complain about it, and after they hit high school, their alone hangouts had minimized quite a bit since both of them gave up most of their time just for school work. However, what was more unusual was that Richie had never once come at night.

   Eddie got up, made his way over and slowly dragged the glass open, attempting to make minimum noise.

“Richie?” His staged whispers filled the air outside.

Richie smiled back at him, prompted up on the window edge. “Hey, Eds.”

Eddie stared. “You’re here.”

“I’m aware.” A few seconds of silence followed, the boys kept staring at each other.

“Uh.. come in.” Eddie stepped out of the way so that Richie could get inside his room, but he didn’t move.

“Oh... uhm, I was thinking more like.. maybe we could go out?” Richie suggested while pushing his glasses up his nose.

Eddie blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “Rich, you know I can’t, my mom would kill me.”

“I wasn’t really planning on telling her, you know.”

Eddie tried to hide a grin under a scowl and a serious glare.

Richie sighed. “Fine, it was worth trying. But can we sit out here for a bit, at least?”

“On the roof?” He scanned the tiles under his window, trying to fight the thoughts of how dirty it must be. Eddie didn’t give Richie a chance to answer him. He turned his head towards his closed bedroom door and made up his mind. “ I suppose that won’t hurt.”

And with that, he climbed over the windowsill as Richie moved aside, contented. They sat side by side on his roof facing the streets of Derry.

   It was dark outside; a few street lamps were on far off. The moon was casting cold shades on surfaces, but the warmness of the desk lamp still reached them, making weird combinations of tones and colours appear on their skin.

“Were you studying?” The silence was broken.

Eddie nodded. “I was, until sleep won me over.” The answer accompanied by a dry chuckle.

“You’re not tough to beat, Spaghetti.”

Eddie gave in to a sided smile. “I strongly disagree.” He saw Richie look fondly at him. “But I won’t fight you right now.”

They kept quiet. When Richie’s eyes lost the momentary glint, he paid attention to the view in front of him. The lack of distractions made memories from the past hours flow back to his mind. He exhaled quietly.

“Won’t you ask me why I’m here?” Richie questioned, turning his head sideways to look at Eddie.

“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

Richie sat with his elbows propped up on his knees while Eddie hugged his legs to his chest.  “There are nicer things to talk about, I guess.”

   Eddie gulped but nodded, he knew something was wrong, Richie wouldn’t bang on his window on a school night for the fun of it (or maybe he would) but Eddie didn’t have it in him to ask it out. Richie wasn’t serious most times so no one really knew how to act when he was.

   After some time debating if he should speak, Eddie cleared his throat. “It doesn’t feel so bad up here, right?” His voice was slightly shaky.

Richie looked at him questioningly. “Uh?”

“Derry." Eddie explained. "It almost looks peaceful from here. No danger to ran into on the streets, feels like no harm could reach us.” He spoke softly, shrugging off his shoulders.

“Yeah.” If Eddie noticed Richie’s glazed eyes, he didn’t mention it. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

“Well, maybe it can be.” What was he saying?  “Maybe it is.” Eddie blamed it on the night to make him say these things.

Richie looked at him like he had grown another head. “Oh, I don’t know, Eds.” A smirk played on his lips. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t dreaming while we were attacked by a clown. Or when Ben showed us all that creepy history stuff, you know, Derry’s history. Or all those times Bowers’ gang turned our lives into fucking nightm-”

“That’s not what I meant, Richie.” Eddie interrupted, frustrated. “All those things definitely happened, but from here maybe it would still be a peaceful town.”

Richie narrowed his eyes. “So… play pretend?” He was finding it funny how Eddie couldn’t explain himself. “Run from your problems?”

“I guess.” Eddie sighed. “It’s probably too late for me to think straight.”

Richie smirked. “Straight or not, I still support you.”

Eddie glared at an amused Richie, he himself not finding it funny. “I guess it’s too late for you use your brain as well.”

“Ow, you wound me, Kaspbrak!” He said jokingly and giggled loudly. Eddie’s face looked slightly panicked as he shushed Richie apprehensively while looking back in the room behind him, expecting to see his mother bang the door open. But she didn’t, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Shit, sorry I was loud.” Richie fought back a smile “Mrs.K would be jealous we didn’t invite her.”

They both cracked soft laughs, unable to hold them in, before settling to a nice silence with small smiles.

   Minutes passed by, Eddie rested his chin on his knees and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the nice weather of the night and the peace that came with it, for once not worrying about how late it was.

Richie played with his shoe laces. “My parents.” He breathed out.

Eddie opened his eyes, but didn’t say anything, knowing more was to come.

“They’re fighting again. It’s not like I’m sad that they are. I don’t care, hell, I wish they would divorce already.” His shoulders slumped. “It’s just so overwhelming to hear them screaming all the time over anything. It’s makes me feel shitty. The only thing I want to do is leave the house the moment I get in, there’s this toxic tension all the time.”

Without giving it much thought, Eddie said  “Not from up here, there isn’t.”

Richie’s lips turned up. “I guess. They may be killing each other right now, but right here it doesn’t matter.”

“Here is fine.” Shoulders bumped against each other playfully.

“Here is hella fine.” Richie smiled at Eddie, magnified eyes locking with sleepless, yet content, ones.

Eddie had to look away, unable to hold their gaze for long. “How do you deal with their fights?”

Why was his heart racing?

Richie shrugged. "I dunno, I just wait it out, ya’know?”

He nodded in response. “Tonight was too much?”

“I guess. I really needed to get out of there.“ He muttered under his breath. ”Feels like I’m going crazy sometimes.“ Exhaling soundly, he rested his weight on his hands each side from his body.

Eddie did the only thing he could think of at the time, squeeze Richie’s hand slightly, feeling his harsh knuckles and the old rings under his palm. "If it helps, then you should definitely leave the house at those times.” Their eyes locked again. “Just, go somewhere, to unwind. You know…”

“Your magic roof?” The mood lifted again. Eddie took his hand from Richie’s and shook his head.

“What a way to ruin the moment.” His tone light and airily.

“Oh, so we were having a moment.” Richie licked his lips, a smirk playing in them. “Thought it was just me.”

Eddie turned his face away with a scowl. “Shut up.”

Glaring at the back of Eddie’s head, Richie’s smile became more genuine, knowing he got a reaction out of the other boy. “Ditto.”

They stood like that for some minutes until one single car passed them. Eddie was lost in his thoughts and got brought back to reality when Richie spoke again.

“Thanks Eds, and sorry for coming out here so late. I’ll let you go to sleep now.” He started shifting his weight to get up, ready to make his way back down. “I think it’s safe to head back now.”

“Sure, no problem.” He watched as the boy made his way to the edge. “It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” They smiled at each other. “Night, Eds.”

“Good night, Richie.” Eddie started making his way back inside and watched as his friend disappeared behind the roof tiles, and later behind the trees, already on his bike.

He sat for a while in the window sill, one leg inside and one out. He let his mind wander freely and his blood flow quicker.

Somehow, Richie never fails to amaze him.

   Friday  23.04.1993

    A few days had gone by as slow as they would per usual. Monday night wasn’t brought up on any conversation. Eddie didn’t know what to think about it, so he tried not to think about it at all. Many times he failed, his mind wandering to Richie’s parents. He scolded himself for waiting by his window last night, in hope for something he didn’t quite know what could be, even though that meant Richie’s family was breaking. Hating himself for it, he settled on being happy that Richie didn’t come if it meant he was alright.

   Around their friends, he acted just like he always does. Eddie wonders if everything is better or if Richie just has the strength to toss it behind his back and focus on his own happiness. There was so much to him he would never get to understand and that knowledge killed him. Knowing he would never be close enough to protect Richie from things and from himself.

   Alright wasn’t the exact word that Richie would use to describe the way he feels. But it’s not that bad, he tells himself. Some kids have it worse.

   With a mother that let herself lose the battle against vices, along with a father that never learnt how to communicate feelings. To say that his household wasn’t ideal was an understatement. It felt quite broken. But Richie couldn’t really blame his parents for it, there were reasons behind the ways they act. Who was he to judge?

   Things a kid should take for granted, such as fresh groceries filling the kitchen, laundry done and warm meals. These had been things he used to have. Now these are things he has to do. His father tries his best, Richie knows this, and that’s enough to give him a pinch of hope. But Wentworth also has the weirdest mood swings that always catch him by surprise. One day he’s caring and trying, the other he’s angry and shouting. Blaming Richie for everything in his life that failed. Talking him down when he cooks or breaks a plate.

Violence is kind of their thing, but it’s mutual. One shove here, take one back. But you know, maybe it’s for the best.

  Today, when Richie parted ways with Mike and Bev after two hours spent in the former’s barn, he noticed that the house was uncharacteristically quiet. 

With the weekend ahead, he decided to take the afternoon for cleaning. Richie spent 2 hours folding clothes, wiping dusty surfaces, and sitting on the floor to stare blankly at things. Walls, the ceiling, the windows. He thought about how great it would be to leave again for a bit, like Eddie had said, or forever.

He felt weird every day. 

Deep down he knows he is just wasting his life, one day at a time. He would wake up, drag himself out of bed just to go to school on a nearly empty stomach and make it through the day. The only thing that still brings him some happiness are his friends. He could never let them go. But then he’d be back home, where he would try his best not to do anything that could upset his parents or be a trigger for more bickering.  His life was a constant cycle, and he couldn’t be more bothered by it. Richie felt like he was sitting, restrained, watching a stop motion animation of what he would call 'his life’.

There, sitting in the middle of the living room, every window opened so that the alcohol smell would fade, he laughed. He laughed so much it hurt his chest, not his stomach.

“Well, this just sucks doesn’t it?” he asked to no one in particular, still laughing at how much it hurt to be, to feel, to think. His eyes stung. He fought it back, like always. 

When he made his way to bed, the sky was already darkening and the house was still empty.

  On the comfort of his own house, Eddie kissed his mother cheek goodnight and neatly brushed his teeth, changing into a fresh set of pyjamas afterwards. He sat on his bed in the dark, facing the view outside.

   Minutes passed, and more after those, his feet hovered above the recently vacuumed carpet. Chest heaving and heavy, head wild with thoughts. His nostrils, along with his mouth, trembled with life of their own as his throat tightened. 

Eddie didn’t know why, but he was crying. He does it a lot.

   It’s something that happens sometimes. The urge to cry, the overwhelming feeling that something is wrong. Then, he would beat himself up trying to figure out what could be so wrong with his life that made him cry with such urgency. He could never find an answer for it, so he would cry more. He hated it.

   He sniffed soundly, the TV noise in the background to cover up for it. A lip caught up in his teeth to prevent it from shaking, trying his best not to whimper. As soon as the living room went quiet and silent, Eddie got under the covers and shut his eyes close.

He decided not to focus on the way his chest stung nor on his twisted throat.

He feels weird sometimes, empty and longing.

Here is the first chapter, oh dear. I've been writing this for months but a writing slump consumed me in the middle of it. I have more chapters ready but I'll only post once per week so I have time to keep writing new chapters. My laptop broke, so please don't give up on me if this takes some time to update or something, for the next few weeks there will be new chapters for sure.

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