#sometimes it's pretty obvious like I told one of my coworkers today that I was in a car accident this weekend

[violetclarity]

gotta love the feature of depression that's like, can't tell if people in my life are actually being annoying or if I'm not handling things well and therefore overreacting to things that would normally not bother me!

[maineventbts]

The Boy Is Mine

pairing: jey uso x oc

word count: 2.1k

warnings: cursing , some innuendoes at the end , that’s pretty much it.

note: i haven’t written anything in a while , im just testing the waters. pls be kind <3

It was Monday, meaning you were walking into the arena for tonight's show. Typically, you enjoyed coming to work; you had the best job in the world. However, this was the last place you wanted to be today. Your silver suitcase was rolling behind you as your best friend power walked to keep up with your quick strides. Your goal was to reach your destination as quickly as possible, avoiding as much contact as you could. You greeted some staff and fellow coworkers before rushing into the female locker room. Holding the door open for your friend, as she gives you a side eye on her way into the room. "What is wrong with you? You need to slow the fuck down," Nia said with her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath.

You refused to tell her the reason for your speed walking into the arena. In your mind, the reasoning made you sound like a high schooler, and you were grown as hell. You and your longtime friend, who happens to be Nia's cousin, were going through a rough patch. You and Josh were not just typical friends; you were practically in love with each other. You couldn't get enough of each other from the day you first met. Sitting together in catering, riding to shows together, even having him hold your purse sometimes. You two even shared many steamy moments in private. No one ever questioned your closeness until a new person was added to the mix. Newer talent, Nikita, the Bane of your existence. Because you and Josh were not an official item, he was fair game for anyone. However, you were ready to go to bat for that man, like he put a ring on your finger.

"Hello? Girl, you almost killed me; this better not be about Josh again." Nia shakes your shoulders, pulling you from your daze. You playfully smack her hands off of your body, "my bad, I'm just a little tired today." Not believing your excuse, Nia opens her mouth, preparing to remind you of your busy day. "And I know we have a tag match tonight, I'll be focused," you beat her to the punch.

After setting up your space in the locker room, you and some of the other women head to catering. You've only had a matcha latte today, and if you didn't eat anything soon, your body would give up. Thankfully, there is always a diverse spread of delicious food, so you never have to worry about going hungry. You grab a Gatorade and pack your plate with three tacos and rice. As soon as you sit down with Nia and Naomi, you notice Naomi's continuous glances at you. "Yes, Naomi," you say, already knowing what was about to come next.

"Why are you ignoring that man," referring to her brother-in-law, Josh. Unsurprisingly, he told his twin brother Jon, who definitely told Trinity. You poke at the food on your plate before looking up at the girls, "I'm not ignoring hi-," Trinity put her hand up, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit you were about to spew. "I literally watch you speed walk past him at every show. And he won't stop calling me and Jon to see what's wrong with you." It was obvious that Trinity wanted to help you both, but you wanted to avoid being lectured by your friends. "He out here entertaining other bitches, what am I supposed to do," your words came out in a whisper in an attempt to keep your fellow workers out of your business.

You’ve been talking about Josh too much because he comes around the corner like Beetlejuice. In an instant, your head is down, and you begin eating your food, praying that he'll ignore you. His eyes are on you instantly, but to your surprise, he doesn't approach you. Instead, he sits down with Xavier and Kofi, at the table beside you. Your back was toward him, but Nia's constant looks in his direction weren't helping your paranoia. "Stop looking over there," you mouth to her, causing her to look down at her plate.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, Bane arrives here to ruin your day. "What up Nikita," you hear Xavier greet the girl, who takes a seat at their table. Your jaw tightens, and your grip on your fork is deadly. Her presence makes you want to flip every table in the room and slap the taste out of her mouth. "I'm liking the little blue in the back, Josh; did you just dye it?" just the sound of her voice raises your body temperature. Smoke is practically barreling out of your ears as you try to remain calm. His hair color is none of her business, and why didn't he tell you about it? Your mind is racing so fast that you don't notice Trinity and Nia's concerned facial expressions. If you didn't leave this table now, Nikita would be laid out on it. Gathering your trash and personal items, you get up from the table and get away from catering as quick as possible. Little did you know, Joshua was staring at you the entire time with puppy dog eyes, praying that you'd look his way.

Back in the locker room, you begin to prep for your match. Earbuds snug in your ears as you riffle through your suitcase, trying to find the best gear to wear. After a swift search, you pull out one of your strategically distressed t-shirts, trunks, and kickpads. You change in one of the stalls and throw on your black boots. "You want to look like me so bad," Nia lets out a laugh as you both come out of the stalls wearing the same colors. The show had already started, and it was time for you two to get in the makeup chair.

"Do you want to go with a neutral type of look tonight," Melinda, one of the makeup artist, always asked what you wanted before she worked her magic. You went with the neutrals, and so did Nia. You and the girls are enjoying small talk as she puts the finishing touches on your face. "Y/N," your body instantly tensed up, and you refused to look away from the girl in front of you. Nia instantly looked away and continued to chat with the other girls. "Girl, i know you did not," you mutter, shocked that she'd leave you to deal with this alone.

"Yes, Josh," you fight the urge to face him, trying to stay strong. If you looked that man in the eyes, you just might let everything go and fold. "Can we go somewhere and talk," he moves to stand before you, not allowing you to avoid him any longer. "I'm getting my makeup done," you quickly respond, hoping to excuse yourself from the situation. "Actually, you're all done now," Melinda pats your shoulder as she ushers you to get out of the chair. Your eyes widen as you've just been thrown to a wolf by your favorite makeup artist. You thank the woman, realizing that you can't hide anymore. "Come on," you tilt your head towards the far end of the hall, which happens to be empty.

"Why you ignoring me," Joshua jumps straight to the point, looking down on you. His body looks tense as he folds his hands in front of him. It was beyond evident that he was just as nervous as you were, if not more. "We been friends for years, you know you my girl," you could hear the hurt in his voice, and it completely shattered your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt Josh, but you were hurting too. "If I'm your girl, why are you flirting with other bitches? It's supposed to be me and you, Joshua; this is not a group thing." You could hardly hold eye contact with him anymore; his eyes looked angry and apologetic, while you looked like you were about to burst into tears.

He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Ain't nobody flirting with nobody. She just follows me and the guys around sometimes, you need to stop trippin-"you smack his hand away from your face. How dare he accuse you of being dramatic. "I need to stop trippin? You won't even let Dolph sit next to me anymore. Anybody gets friendly with me, and you get upset, but I can't be mad at you for getting fresh with someone that ain't me," no longer were you scared to look at him; you were practically fuming. Head cocked to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, "you're so fucking backwards, Josh. If you wanna flirt with other people, if you want to fuck with other people, go ahead!" The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what even happened. He clenched his jaw, as you tried your best to hold back the flood that was ready to fall from your eyes.

"Fuck you, Josh. I'm so fucking done with you," you turn away from him, not wanting to waste any more of your time on someone who wasn't truly committed to you. Head hanging low as you speed past everyone in the hall. Joshua watches you walk away from him, knowing that you need some time to cool off. Though you might not understand now, he loves you more than anything else in this world, and he wouldn't let you walk out of his life that easily.

The rest of your evening was bearable. You won your tag match with Nia but had to go up against the one person you wanted to strangle. Luckily for you, Josh was nowhere to be found; now it was time to get the hell out of there before he magically appeared again. You and Nia were outside, waiting for Saraya to bring the car around. Sitting on your suitcase with your earbuds in, this was the most peace you had gotten all day.

As Saraya pulls up in front of you, a hand drapes over your shoulder. You recognized that soft yet heavy hand anywhere. "What do you want Josh," your words come out very monotonous as you pull the earbuds from your ears. "You riding with me tonight," his words sounding more like a statement than a question. You shrug his hand off of your shoulder before rising from your seat. "No, I'm going with the girls to-” before you could finish your sentence, Joshua is holding your suitcase along with his, "you gon' stop running from me. You know just how much I love you, even though we haven't made anything official, I've made it more than clear that you my number one." Before you can get a word out, he continues, "I shouldn't have let her get that close to me; that's my fault entirely. But never once did I feed into her advances or little flirtatious behavior. I'm not checking for anybody that's not you, ma," with every word he says, you feel your face get hotter. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but you didn’t think that he’d profess his love for you outside the arena.

"I know we ain't made nothing official or anything, but I wanna change that. I don't want no one thinking they got a chance with you, and I know you don't want that either." Joshua advances towards you, letting go of the suitcase handles. Hands slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to his body, "be my girl, officially." You couldn’t resist it anymore, the last thing you wanted was to keep fighting with Josh. Your hand comes up to the back of his head, strands of his blue hair through your fingers, "I'd like that very much," your words come out softly as you feel your face burning. His eyes were scanning all over your body like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. You couldn’t lie, you did get some new braids in and did your makeup a bit different lately, hoping he would notice. He wasn’t the only one staring, you found yourself drooling over his tattooed arms and the shine from his grill. It’s been a minute since y’all got together and you needed him now.

"Kiss her! Be a man," you hear Saraya and Nia yelling from the car, you completely forgot that they were waiting on you. Leaning down, Joshua carefully places his lips against yours. Wasting no time, you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your nails are softly combing through his hair as his hands start to roam your body. You hear squeals in the background before slowly pulling away from his lips. Gloss slightly smudged on your face and on his lips. Your mouth curves into a smile before you turn your attention to your friends. "I'll see y'all in the next town," you raise your middle finger at the pair before gathering your items to leave with your new man.

"You gon' apologize for ignoring me all this time," he looks over at you, licking his lips as you help him load up the rental. Already knowing what kind of apology he wanted, you shake your head, "nah, I've been under so much emotional stress lately. I think you owe me an apology, maybe even two," you giggle as he closes the trunk. "I’ma give you whatever you want baby," he says, hand smacking your ass before you walk over to the passenger door.

[dumplingequivalent]

hey I think I know why old people are insincere assholes the essay

Yknow when you're trying to connect to someone from an older generation, and they gloss over your attempts at genuine connection?

Like when a family member got you a gift that really meant something to you, but when you try to express your genuine gratitude, it seems like they don't really give a shit?

Or maybe you open up and share something personal with an older coworker or family friend along with some advice on a concern that you've been actively worrying about for them, but they don't acknowledge it or even act like they heard you at all?

Something clicked for me today, and now I think it's bigger than Poppop's Just An Asshole Sometimes.

I think there's been a huge shift in western culture around authenticity and genuine expression in the past two decades or so - the way we as a society and culture view it, express it, present it, and respond to it - that's causing minor intergenerational conflicts in our personal lives, but more importantly, major conflicts in our shared public spaces.

Hear me out.

1. Authenticity Then VS Now

2. Authenticity Becomes A Privilege And No One Tells The Boomers

3. Boomer-Meta and Why It Matters

1. Authenticity Then Vs Now

If you're on tumblr you probably understand nuance -

- so I think the concept of "authenticity" meaning something different to Boomers than it does to Millennials or Gen Z isn't baffling to you. it probably feels really familiar.

If you went to a US school in the 2000's, you probably remember the DARE program and anti-smoking and anti-drug ads on TV. And if you don't, you probably already have an idea of what I'm talking about. Things made by adults that felt embarrassingly out of touch to the children they were designed for.

As we all know, these all flopped immediately yet lasted the whole decade. (flopped except for the anti-smoking ads which I'll come back to) In retrospect, these marketing attempts says a lot more about the generation of adults responsible for them.

Things like the DARE program were, pretty transparently, designed to resemble what boomers remembered was "cool and interesting" from their own childhoods. My favorite example is Yello Dino and his video on "Tricky People" that's a painfully obvious homage to Fonzie from Happy Days crossed with Barney that's just as painful to watch.

Watch from 8:03-15:30 or so to see Yello Dino appear and sing a stranger danger song with the Local Kids™.

It's easy to look at this kind of thing and the DARE program and say "of course kids didn't fall for any of this, it's so poorly made; blatantly trying to sell an idea;" etc. But I think the core issue is authenticity.

Remember the anti-smoking ads? Those worked in the end because they featured people who looked like people we knew in person, with real problems from actions they really regretted. And that stuck.

But the Boomer "How Do You Do Fellow Kids" bullshit was never grounded in reality.

The approach they were trying to replicate only worked back in the boomers childhoods because everyone was seen as being genuine by default.

People in real life told the truth unless proven otherwise. Comedians on TV said things to make the audience present laugh. Singers appeared on TV so you could see them as well as hear them. People in ads were selling you a product.

Actors acted like their characters to portray that character "genuinely".

Why would they lie? Their job is to be that character. If they say they like Big Coffee Brand™, you might laugh as it's obviously an ad,

but you also then believed that to be true.

No, really. The section on Fonzie's wiki page bout Henry Winkler's involvement in social issues, titled "Civic Involvement," reads like a social commentary in a dystopian horror. There's little to no distinction between the character and the actor. Henry Winkler is Fonzie, and Fonzie is Henry Winkler.

So if you wanna be like Fonzie, you wanna be like Henry Winkler. You wanna smoke and drink and say what Henry Winkler does, because that's what Fonzie does.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Now, flash forward to the 2000's.

The police officers doing DARE were (mostly) never thrilled to be there. The anti-weed ads were so exaggerated that they seemed cartoony. Hell, some of them were cartoons, just unfunny ones. And most importantly, we were taught from a very young age that everyone is always lying.

"Never reveal personal information about yourself to strangers or online to protect yourself" turns into "Everyone is lying to you to get something from you" really, really fast.

People in real life aren't to be believed until they can prove what they say is true. Comedians on TV say things to keep themselves relevant and in the rumor mill. Singers appear on TV to sell concert tickets and promote albums. Ads use social issues that affect real people as marketing. Actors are people who are pretty and pretend to be other people in a way that's never convincing, but sometimes if they're feeling generous they'll let you know what they really think and feel.

So, why would anyone tell the truth?

Why should you?

2) Authenticity Becomes A Privilege And No One Tells Boomers

(Thank you for reading this far and I promise I'm don't with the edgy "everything sucks" poetry now)

So now we've all grown up into jaded adults who've been taught to not trust but to strive to "be your unique self" and that creates some weird social dichotomies.

If you want to be truly happy, you must accept yourself and do what you want to do.

....but then you risk being seen as a cringey fuck that gets laughed at on Facebook by your highschool classmates and all of your previous bosses.

All jokes aside, modern society prioritizes a readied public face now more than ever, and that's really exemplified in the Internet celebrity experience. Taking a mild stance on anything generates tabloids attention, and doing something the public frowns upon can ruin a person's career permanently. you're on tumblr, this isn't news to you. you get what I mean.

This consequently makes moments of genuine emotion and expression from these celebrities inherently risky - and thus, a much more rare occurrence. Moments of streamers getting scared by spiders or cockroaches blow up constantly because, I mean yeah sure it's funny, but it's also really REALLY difficult to stage a believable reaction to something like that. And that carnal reaction draws out the desire for connection in all of us. That moment of unfiltered response feels special - a brief glimpse behind the curtain.

And celebrities online know it too. Apology videos, let's plays, streaming - all of this media has a built in sense of authenticity that is vital to making it work. Authenticity is a premium social currency in this space, and that bleeds into our everyday lives as well.

If the most badass and brave thing your idols can do is to be sincere, then eventually, you'll probably feel that way too. It makes sense - sincerity is vulnerable. Choosing to be deliberately honest and emotional when you have no expectation to be is a powerful thing. At least, to most of us it is.

While this is all happening, there's an entire generation of people who are still experiencing the world like when happy days was airing.

Dr. Oz, Dr. Phil, Rachel Ray.......whatever other bullshit they put on TV, all of it begins to make more sense when you focus on their target audience - the middle aged and elderly.

Yes, really. Think of who you know in real life who absolutely loved The Big Bang Theory.

I mean, come on. This image makes me sad, dude.

Humor me for a moment. let's just run with my theory and say middle-aged and older people are all walking around as if everyone is always telling the truth to them.

Is it really that surprising that Dr. Oz was/is?? as successful as he was? As it turns out, believing everything to be true until proven otherwise is incredibly dangerous when applied to medical practice!

While we were growing up, the middle aged and elderly were spending their time being constantly self-absorbed and, just, unapologetically themselves. Which doesn't sound bad in theory, but it's really not as straightforward as it sounds.

3. Boomer-Meta And Why It Matters

So boomers are gullible. the sky is blue. why should you care

The point to all this is that authenticity is very important to modern society, and the difference of what authenticity means and how it's expressed matter drastically when understanding each other is vital.

Boomers were raised to always be genuine. If one believes themself to always be truthful, that lends to forming a bias in their own favor. And breaking the mentality down further, "I always say what I mean and I mean what I say" implies that what was said is what is true. And further, someone changing their "story" is an indicator of deception.

I've met plenty of older generation people who act like sharing their opinion is a gift in and of itself i.e. unwarranted comments on cooking or food, interjected advice about the conversation subject. Similarly, questions about the validity of a statement seem to often be taken as questioning ones morals.

This personal bias is very apparent in interpersonal situations. An attempt to be more genuine with someone who thinks this way would come across as staged and more insincere, and conversely, speaking with a clear bias appears superficial and ignorant.

But the real conflict is how this affects our news and politics. A core misunderstanding of what sincerity is and what it looks like, from either side, is dooms any conversation before it ever begins.

The lack of literacy in each other's values adds so much unnecessary conflict into already divisive matters. The stagnation in the legal progress of important social issues is probably worsened with so many of the US lawmakers being elderly themselves.

I don't have a great way to end this thing, but thanks for reading my weird essay.

The slow realization that a misunderstanding could be at the center of most major political conflict in the US consumed me for like 12 hours today and I appreciate you taking time to read my ramblings.

[jeysbvck]

hi shan! <3

can i request '' i haven't been able to stop thinking about you. '' + '' all i want to do is kiss you. all the time. '' for steve harrington?

a/n: HI RISH!<3 i hope this is okay, i'm sorry it took so long, i wanted to make it perfect! i've never wrote for Steve before, so here's my debut (that absolutely ran away with me i'm so sorry it's so long!)

warnings: none, i don't think!

word count: 2.4k

***

Steve Harrington was your weakness. Everyone knew it, everyone but Steve, that was. You met him when your best friend, Robin Buckley, started working at Scoops Ahoy, and you spent most of your time hanging around the ice cream store. At first, you only went there to see Robin, but the more you hung out there and got to know her very cute coworker, the more you started to conveniently forget when Robin was and wasn't working. Steve was oblivious each time, completely believing your very obvious lie, and he'd spend his shift talking to you and slipping you free ice cream.

Robin had caught on to the mutual crush pretty quickly and had become bored of watching this will-they-won't-they scenario, so she decided to give you both a little nudge in the right direction. Her plan was to make Steve throw a party, and then organize a game of 7 minutes in heaven, where you and Steve would be locked in a room, or a closet, until you both gave in. You thought it was a ridiculous plan when you realized what she was doing, but it worked. "My plans always work." Robin had said, and you couldn't disagree.

But then things started to go wrong. Hawkins became unsafe, with Steve right in the middle of it each and every time, all while keeping you at a distance. It became a cycle; Hawkins would crumble, you and Steve would argue, he'd go off and almost get himself killed but ultimately save the day, he'd come back and apologize, and everything would be okay until Hawkins fell again. It all became too much when he was attacked by a horde of demon bats, and although it broke your heart to do so, you walked away. Your feelings hadn't changed, not one bit, but it had become too hard, and you had to break the cycle. 

Hawkins had been quiet for a while, and your friendship with Steve had strengthened, going from awkward exes forcing a friendship to best friends. You were still head over heels in love with him, and it was hard sometimes, but as long as he was alive and in your life, it was fine. Robin and Nancy had been badgering you to talk to Steve, to get your relationship back on track since everything had quietened down, but you shut them down. You couldn't take going through everything again, and it was going to be hard enough if everything went to shit again, even if you were just friends.

With Robin and Steve now working at Family Video, it was a lot easier to spend your time hanging out with them while they worked. They were usually left alone on shifts, and you would help out occasionally, especially on release days when the store was bustling. Today was not one of those days, and with Nancy being out of town with Jonathan, you and Eddie were hanging out with Robin and Steve while they worked. Eddie Munson had been a surprising new addition to the group, but he was a welcomed one. You got along with Eddie amazingly, he was like the annoying brother you'd never had, and having Eddie in the group had changed the dynamic for the better.

While Steve and Robin were in the back taking stock, you and Eddie were sitting on the floor behind the counter facing each other, throwing Skittles at the other, trying to catch them in your mouth.

"So, are you going to Robin's party at Steve's?" Eddie asked, throwing a Skittle at your head. You glared at him as he laughed at you, making you throw a handful of sweets at him as you rubbed your forehead. "Hey, no fair!"

"Yes, I'm going to Robin's party." You told him, popping a Skittle into your mouth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason." He said with a shrug. "Are you gonna tell Steve you're still in love with him?"

"Why would I tell Steve I'm still in love with him?" You enquired. Eddie let out a very loud, very sarcastic HA! and this time, you gave him a little kick.

 "Don't make me come over there." Eddie threatened, smirking at your smug face. "It's so obvious you two idiots are still in love with each other. Are you really going to let that go just because some crazy shit has happened?" He carried on and you chuckled dryly.

"We didn't break up because of the crazy shit, Eddie. We broke up because of how he reacted to the crazy shit." You clarified and Eddie scoffed.

"Please, can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same thing? Tried to protect Steve if you knew this unexplainable stuff was happening? Of course he didn't want you to follow him into the jaws of death!"

You groaned. "Why are you all obsessed with this?" You sighed. "And this is basically the same thing Robin has already preached to me. Do you guys just get together and talk about our relationship?"

"Maybe we're just sick of watching you idiots dance around your feelings, and you're getting defensive because you know we're right." Eddie shrugged, popping a few Skittles into his mouth at once. You extended your leg to kick him again, but this time, Eddie grabbed your foot and pulled you towards him. "That's it, you asked for this!" He yelled, pulling you closer to him as you squealed.

"Eddie! Stop it!" You giggled, kicking out as he laughed loudly.

 "You never should've broken up in the first place, should you?!" He said loudly, as he put you in a headlock, ruffling your hair.

"Eddie!"

"Should you?!" He repeated.

"No!" You confessed, unable to contain your laughter as you tussled with Eddie, trying to release yourself from his grip.

"And wouldn't you want to be with Steve if the world was going to end?"

Before you could reply, Steve and Robin came out from the back. Steve jumped over the counter, and you watched his face drop as he saw you and Eddie practically wrestling on the ground in front of him, Skittles scattered around the small area.

"Seriously guys? I'd expect this from Dustin and Eddie, but you?" Steve chastised, as he glared at you, making you and Eddie giggle. Eddie let you go as Steve muttered "Jesus Christ."

"Sorry, Steve." You said, scooping the rouge Skittles up off the floor and throwing them in the bin. He rolled his eyes as he helped you up and you put your chin on his shoulder, ignoring Eddie, who was wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. "Now cheer up and tell me the plan for tonight."

****

The party was nothing like you thought. You were expecting it to be a small gathering, consisting of you and your friends; mainly set up so your friends could play matchmaker, but this was an actual party, full of people you didn't know. You were pretty sure that Robin also had no idea who they were, and that Steve was the one who knew them, but you were ready to have a good time regardless.

You had noticed that Steve had been avoiding you, whenever he noticed you were in the room he'd just walked into, he'd walk out. However, when you mentioned it to Robin or Eddie, they blew you off. "He's just being a good host." Robin replied, to which you answered, "Isn't this your party?"

Instead of spending the night wondering what you had done to make Steve pretend you didn't exist, you decided to get drunk. You managed to swipe a bottle of wine from the kitchen and slip out of the back door undetected. There weren't too many people outside, which wasn't surprising, considering it was a cold November night, and you sat at the edge of the pool, slipping your sneakers off and dipping your toes in the cold water, staring out into the woods behind Steve's garden. You thought about the last time you'd sat here before everything went to shit. How Steve wrapped you up in his arms and peppered you with kisses, making promises that he'd break a few weeks later.

Eddie was right. If Hawkins was burning, you'd want to be by Steve's side when it happened, no matter where it was. That was the problem though, wasn't it? Steve was so protective of you, he hadn't ever given you that choice. He never thought about what would happen if things went south, or if you never got a chance to say goodbye to each other.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump and you let out a small scream. You had been so lost in your thoughts - and in the bottle of wine - that you hadn't heard anyone come up behind you, let alone say your name.

"Whoa, sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you!" Steve said, squeezing your shoulder before he let go and sat next to you, also putting his feet into the pool, hissing slightly as he got used to the cold water. "You okay?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "I'm fine." You replied, glancing at Steve out of the corner of your eye to see if he believed your lie; the look on his face told you he definitely didn't.

"What's wrong?" He asked you, and you answered with a question of your own.

"Are we okay?"

It stunned Steve into silence and when you stole another glance at him, you couldn't help but smile slightly at his bewildered expression. "Why wouldn't we be okay?" He asked, and you exhaled a short breath out of your nose in fake amusement.

"Steve, I've watched you walk into at least three rooms tonight, see that I'm in there, and walk straight back out. You've been avoiding me all night! If it's about me and Eddie, at the video store this afternoon then-"

"I know there's nothing going on between you two, Eddie's already assured me." Steve replied, making you arch your eyebrow.

"Assured you? You really thought I'd-"

"Yeah! I mean-No! I didn't think you and Eddie were...you know? I just- I didn't-" Steve groaned and sighed, as he ran his hands through his hair. His arm caught your attention, the way his t-shirt clung to the muscle, almost like the fabric was about to burst at the seam. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

You blinked a few times, trying to register what Steve had just said. You were pretty sure your brain was malfunctioning, his words were rattling around in your head, yet you weren't actually sure he'd said them, maybe you'd misheard him.

"What did you say?" Your voice was barely audible. Steve lifted his hand up, wavering above your thigh before he changed his mind and grabbed the bottle of wine from between your legs. He took a large sip from the bottle and then took a deep breath before repeating himself.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I know we've been spending a lot of time together, and maybe that's why. I mean, you're one of my best friends, y'know? But I don't think about Robin, Eddie, or Nance as much, or the way I think about you."

Steve was rambling on but you weren't listening, all you can hear was the thumping of your heartbeat. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have said anything. I know it's my fault we broke up, and we're in such a good place right now. I've just been talking to Eddie and Robin about you, about us, and they made me realize-"

"Steve." You put your hand on his thigh and his eyes darted down at it before he looked back at you, his eyes wide and lips parted slightly. When he made this face, he resembled a Golden Lab, and it was one of the most adorable sights in the world. "It was my fault we broke up." You told him, making him frown and shake his head.

"No, I pushed you away. I thought I was protecting you - and I was - but I was also protecting myself. I was being stupid. I thought it would be easier if you weren't with me, but I was just more worried, wondering about what if it went wrong, and your last memory of me would be of us arguing and me walking away. Eddie made me realize I wasn't being fair to you. I wasn't thinking about what it would do to you, I wasn't thinking about you sitting at home being terrified for me."

You couldn't help but laugh, which made Steve's mouth drop into a small 'O'. You grabbed his hands and tilted your head, staring into his big, beautiful, hazel eyes, and smiled. "Funny you should say that, because Eddie made me realize that I would've done the same thing if the tables were turned. I'd do anything to try and protect you, so of course I'd try and keep you away from danger! I love you!"

Steve grinned. "You love me?" He asked, and you nodded. He put his forehead against yours and smiled, "I love you too."

"Who'd have thought, eh? Eddie Munson being a great matchmaker?" You said, and Steve chuckled. "So, what do you want? What do you want to happen now?"

"All I want is to kiss you. All the time!" Steve replied, and you giggled as a grin spread across your face. "So can I?"

"Yeah, you can." You said. Steve pulled you closer to him - careful not to knock you into the pool - and tucked your hair behind your ear before he gently pressed his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss instantly, you had dreamed of your first last kiss, craved the rush you got when he kissed you for so long. His hands cupped your cheeks, deepening the kiss, and his tongue slipped into your mouth as the passion intensified.

You pulled back before you both got too carried away, a bashful smile on your face as Steve kissed the tip of your nose. "Does this mean we're back together?" He asked, his fingers lacing around yours. You arched your eyebrow, your smile turning into a smirk.

"I'm in if you are." You confirmed, rolling your eyes affectionately at his incessant nodding. "But I swear to God, Harrington, if you pull that shit again-"

"Never." He cut you off, his hands leaving yours to cup your cheeks again. "Whatever happens, no matter what, we'll deal with it together."

"Together." You repeated, smiling against Steve's lips as he kissed you.

[selinakidreams]

hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee​ @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam. 

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order. 

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you. 

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste. 

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one. 

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.  

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off. 

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze. 

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest  felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.  

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.`` 

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around. 

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?” 

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks. 

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it. 

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.” 

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.” 

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door. 

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds. 

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts. 

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling. 

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied. 

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name. 

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with. 

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first. 

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor? 

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone. 

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable. 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood. 

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him. 

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter. 

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes. 

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.” 

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to. 

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?” 

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words. 

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale. 

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up. 

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout. 

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill. 

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward  any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements. 

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.”  Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch. 

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. 

Oh fuck. 

You felt yourself throb. 

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.” 

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed. 

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms. 

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you. 

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you. 

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?” 

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.” 

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?” 

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.” 

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 “So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest. 

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again. 

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know. 

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same. 

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp. 

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips. 

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body. 

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back. 

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you. 

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush. 

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

 He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his. 

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly. 

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it. 

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body. 

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic. 

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of. 

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling. 

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox. 

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned. 

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again. 

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

 “I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly. 

This was going to be fun. 

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch. 

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.” 

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name. 

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance. 

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out. 

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out. 

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you. 

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy. 

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..” 

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him. 

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

[dirty-brainrot]

(Cat Cafe)

Oh god, first oneshot post... I proof-read this so many times.

Anyway,

Pairing: Jotaro Kujo³ x Reader

"Hey Jotaro, do you wanna visit a cat cafe?"

He didn't know why he agreed to his red-haired friend, he could've been doing something else like sleeping or smoking (anything that didn’t involve people, preferably). He doesn't hate exactly cats but he doesn't like them either, although he wished it was an aquatic-themed cafe instead.

After school had ended, Jotaro walked alongside Kakyoin who was pretty hyped about going to the cat cafe, he had not stopped talking about it since he mentioned it over at lunch.

The conversation was one-sided because of Jotaro's quiet nature. Sometimes he would hum or grunt in acknowledgment.

Finally arriving inside the fur-filled cafe, the two tall teens spoke to the store clerk and they went over some rules and guidelines.

Inside the cafe was decent-looking. Cute paw prints were decorating the cream walls, every object was cat-themed as expected but overall it had a vibe to it.

There were only a few people inside, talking and eating. The cat caretakers/waiters doing their job.

"Hey isn't that Y/N-chan?" Kakyoin whispered gaining Jotaro's attention and pointed at you, who was tending to a black cat.

You're friends with Kakyoin and he would sometimes invite you to have lunch with them. Jotaro doesn't mind it, as long as you're quiet and don't blast his ears off with squealing and fangirling. And of course, Jotaro intimidating the crap out of you, you barely talk with them. But there are times where you would get very talkative.

His cold gaze wandered to your figure who was indeed feeding a black cat. "Let's go find a seat, Jotaro." Kakyoin spoke and began dragging Jotaro to a table, littered with cats.

"Couldn't you at least picked a table with less cats?" He grunted, the table had at least 4 cats around it. But to poor Kakyoin's demise and Jotaro's delight, the cats started going away leaving Kakyoin to whine. "Look Jotaro! You scared them away!"

Kakyoin's whining was cut short to you arriving at their table with a black cat on your shoulder, making the cherry boy gasp.

"May I take your order?" You asked with a shy smile. It was rare to see the big bad delinquent visit a cat cafe but seeing his cherry loving friend, he was probably dragged along.

"You work here? And you have a cat on your shoulder!" Kakyoin asks along with stating the obvious that you indeed have a black cat on your shoulder. "Yes, I do. I don't know why but this lil' fella follows me everywhere." You scratched the cat's head.

"That's so cute, having a little cat follower." Outside the cafe, you would've looked like a witch but seeing that you were working in a cat cafe it was pretty normal. "Anyways, what would you like to order?"

They both looked at the menu on the table. "Do you have any cherry-flavored snacks here?" You chuckled knowing his love for cherries. "Sadly, no." Kakyoin pouted before ordering something else, Jotaro just ordered a normal latte.

"Alright, I'll be back with your orders." You said while putting down the black cat and handing them the brochure filled with information about the cute cats in the cafe.

Jotaro watched you walk away, his cold gaze never leaving your figure until he felt something soft and warm on his lap. "Oh! That one is called 'Qtaro'" Kakyoin stated with a chuckle while flipping the page of the book. "Huh, it says here that Qtaro is quite a distant cat and barely interacts with other cats..." The cat purrs on Jotaro's lap making Kakyoin smile. "Seems like Qtaro likes you."

Jotaro and the feline had a little staring contest, two ocean-colored eyes stare into each other. Soon later, you arrived with their drinks on a tray. "Here are your orders..." You trailed off, "Well, that's strange.." Whispering the last part while handing their beverages to them. "Qta never lays on people's lap aside from me."

"Oh? He kinda reminds me of Jotaro." Kakyoin took a sip of his drink, you giggled at his statement. Qtaro also reminded you of Jotaro, it was strange. Like Jotaro, the cat would stray far from people and wanted only peace, and sometimes you could feel Jotaro's gaze on you whenever you're in the same class as him same as the feline would do whenever you were working at the cafe.

"Also Y/N-chan, can you introduce some of the cats to me?" You nodded at his request. He quickly drank the rest of his drink, then stood up to follow you. The cat hopped off of Jotaro to follow you, while the huge man just watched from his chair. He doesn't know why but ever since you tagged along with Kakyoin he slowly became attracted to you.

He couldn't help but get jealous whenever Kakyoin made you smile or laugh or just get your attention in general.

Right now, you were introducing Toffee to Kakyoin. Nearly every cat ran away from him except Qtaro since he's following you but at a distance. Toffee, the most friendly and interactive cat in the cafe had rejected Kakyoin.

Kakyoin started sulking on the floor and you couldn't help but stifle your laugh. "D-don't worry Kakyoin. Pffbt- If it helps, if I ever turn into a cat I won't run away from you." Kakyoin only sulked more.

Unable to suppress your laughs, you busted out laughing. You tried to quiet down before gaining some more unwanted attention.

Unaware of the Jotaro looming behind you, you squeaked when you felt a rough hand land on your shoulder.

"Introduce me to some of the cats too." His deep voice notifying you that it was only Jotaro. He didn't know what he was doing, it just came out of his mouth. Confused at his actions, you still obliged.

"Follow me." You gently grabbed his hand on your shoulder and dragged him to the other side where cats had gathered, leaving the sulking cherry boy behind.

Both of you sat down on the floor, then you began introducing the cats to him one by one, all of them seem to have taken a liking to him. It was a cute sight, cats have gathered to Jotaro and some had even climbed onto him. Even Qtaro was on him!

"How did you manage to get their attention?! They all kept running away from me..." Kakyoin sat down beside you and pouted.

"Maybe Jotaro-kun is secretly a cat whisperer." You joked while petting a Siamese cat.

"So Y/N-chan, you never told us you work at a cat cafe!" Kakyoin said, trying to grab some of the cat's attention away from Jotaro. "Well, you never asked." You stated, grinning smugly at your sassy response.

"Touché. But when do you work here?" He asked, turning his attention fully on you since the cats won't even notice him.

"Every Wednesday to Friday at around 4:40 pm and my shift ends at 7:00 pm." You respond to him while helping Jotaro remove the cats on him.

"Oh, so that's why you don't hang out with us that often. I thought we might've scared you away." Smiling, you said "As shy as I look, you two don't scare me." Like a liar.

'Well, Jotaro-kun looks a... little scary...'

Kakyoin looked at the cute cat clock on the wall. "It's getting late... I need to go home before mom temporarily bans me from playing video games." You nodded and stood up with them.

"Oh don't worry about the drinks, I already paid for them. Think of it as a thank you for helping me last week with my math." You smiled at the cherry man, making the emo man jealous. Kakyoin rubbed the nape of his neck. "You shouldn't have..." He smiled and thanked you.

You accompanied them to the door, Kakyoin waved goodbye at you while Jotaro just nodded at you.

.

.

.

"Hey, Kakyoin, let's visit it again tomorrow."

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

Here's an alternate version. 🌚

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

"Oh don't worry about the drinks, I already paid for them. Think of it as a thank you for helping me last week with my math." You playfully winked at Kakyoin making him blush and stutter a thank you. From that little interaction, Jotaro had enough.

They walked outside the cafe, Kakyoin bidding you goodbye while Jotaro asked him to walk ahead. Confused by his actions, he nodded and walked away. 'He's been acting strange today... He's more quieter than he used to...'

Jotaro walked back into the cafe looking for you, your coworkers were nowhere to be seen giving him the perfect opportunity. "Oh hey Jotaro, I thought you left..?" You tilted your head in confusion as to why he hasn't gone home yet.

His cold gaze shifted to your figure and walks towards you by the cat feeding station. Unexpectedly, his hands were suddenly on the wall by your sides, trapping you. You felt your cheeks heat up "J-Jotaro..?" You whisper, starting to feel somewhat scared and intimidated by his height.

"I thought I don't scare you?" His deep gruff voice was deeper than before and his warm breath, that smelt faintly of coffee, tickled your face. "I- I-" You stuttered trying to form a sentence. He chuckled at your flushed state. You hugged the sack of cat food, trying to calm your burning face.

It was silent, besides some casual cat mewls here and there.

"Go out with me." He stated boldly which made your face much more redder than before. "H-Huh?!"

"Good grief woman, are you deaf?" His hands left your sides and went straight into his pocket, looking away he spoke again. "If you don't want to-"

"Yes!" You quickly interrupted his sentence. You could faintly see his ears turn pink as he pulled down his hat. You giggled, the redness of your face starting to fade.

"I would love to, Jotaro-kun."

[theharrowing]

Shaky Deposition ♢ 2: Giving in to my urges

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

♢ Hoseok x Female Reader

♢ word count: 5k

♢ strangers to lovers, lawyer au, infidelity that turns into sharing, smut, nsfw, poly & slash, 18+

♢ warnings: oral sex in public, desire for more than one man, inappropriate boss to employee behavior ♢ beta read by @neoneunnajimin​ ♢ posted march 2022 | read on ao3

For the last four days, work has been busy, and Hoseok has been extremely helpful, doting on you and helping you find the exact volumes you need from the library for your various tasks. Although you're typically not fond of busywork, there's not much for you to do right now; you haven't been assigned to a lawyer or a case, and apparently, Min Shinhyuk—or Senior Partner Min, as Hoseok calls him—has been out of the office. If Hoseok's suspicions are true, that you will be working under him, it makes sense that you haven't been assigned a case yet. You also haven’t seen the mysterious blond man, though it hasn’t stopped you from looking every so often up to the mezzanine, just in case. You wonder what his deal is, if he’s been busy, or if he, too, is out of the office. 

During lunch all week, you both eat homemade lunch boxes, sometimes sharing with one another, and your conversations stay pretty light, either work-related or on the topic of school and studying to work in law. Ever since Hoseok proposed you two "have some fun," you haven't really talked about it again. In the moment, you told him, "I'll think about it," but then you woke up the following day unsure if there was much to think about. Dating or even fucking your coworker right away seems like a bad move. What if it's a power play, and he plans to use it against you somehow? Hoseok doesn't seem dishonest, but sometimes it's the shadiest ones who appear sweet and trustworthy on the outside. 

So, you've kept conversations friendly, you never brought it up again, and neither did Hoseok. Until today, after work, while you're packing up and getting ready to head home. 

Hoseok is still at his desk in the bullpen, despite everyone else being gone. When he sees you coming back from the library with a stack of revisions, his face lights up, and he scurries over to take them from you and deposit them in the wire tray. You squint at Hoseok, trying not to laugh at how obvious he's being, but you can't help your lips from curling upward. 

"Alright," you tease, "what do you want?

Hoseok looks scandalized, his mouth turning into an O-shape, and this time you do laugh at him. "Wow," Hoseok croaks, dramatically placing a hand over his heart, "I'm hurt."

"Out with it," you demand with a grin.

Hoseok sighs, "Alright, fine. There's a party tonight in Itaewon and I want you to come along with me."

A party does sound fun, but you know the moment alcohol so much as touches your lips, you'll be thinking about touching his, so you sigh uncertainly. Hoseok approaches, gently taking you by the shoulders, standing close enough that you have to angle your head to see him. 

"I won't pull anything like I did Monday, okay? You said you'd consider it and never brought it up again; message received loud and clear. And look, I respect that, okay? But I still want to be your friend, and I think a night out would be the perfect chance to celebrate your first week of the new job and meet some new people."

You sigh; Hoseok has a point, and he seems very clear about his intentions, which puts you at ease. 

"Fine. I'll go out, but not like this," you concede as you motion to your clothing. "We'll go home, change and meet there? Deal?"

"Deal!" Hoseok grins.

You gather your things and follow Hoseok out the door, and when he flags down a taxi, insisting he'll drop you off first, you agree because it is definitely faster than taking the busses. You exchange numbers in the back of the taxi, and Hoseok promises to send you the location as he waves you off. 

Inside your home, you're met with a table full of food, and you stop for a moment, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking at the dishes. Your mom grumbles through a smile, happy to see you eating though she'd rather you sit and serve yourself like a polite adult. You kiss your mom on the forehead and thank her, promising you'll eat more once you're finished changing, and excitedly make your way to your room. 

You consider wearing something a little sexy, maybe a little revealing, but you're not sure what kind of party this is, and you don't want to risk giving Hoseok the wrong idea, so you put on a tight pink turtleneck tucked into some skinny blue jeans, with a pair of your favorite sneakers. Since your hair has been pulled back into a bun all day, you undo it, comb it so that it's tight once more, and put it back into the same style, then apply a little makeup to make your eyes pop and call it done. 

Before you can make your way back to the dining table, a text comes in from Hoseok that says, "Hey hey, here's the address, party is at 7!" 

It's nearing six, so you have plenty of time and sit down just as your family starts milling about, already finished with their meals, making small talk as they clean around you. Although you insist on taking care of the dishes once you're done, your mother washes what your family used and those she used to cook. Once you're finished, you pack the rest of the food into containers for the fridge and take care of the remaining dishes. 

It's ten to seven when you leave your house and make your way to the party, which is just over twenty minutes by foot. You're about to shoot off an "On my way, be there in 20" text to Hoseok when you see him, about a block from your place standing under a lamppost. Hoseok looks up, eyes wide, and trots over, crossing the street and falling in stride with you. 

"Couldn't remember which one was yours," Hoseok says, sounding a bit out of breath, "and I was just about to call."

"Perfect timing," you smile. "How long were you there?"

"Like a minute. Your place is only a ten minute walk from mine, too, which is convenient!"

You walk to the party, remarking about things you see along the way, and, when you make it to the sidewalk just outside the nightclub, Hoseok finally turns and says, "You look great!" which stirs up an entire swarm of butterflies in your tummy. 

Hoseok also looks great, wearing a plain black tee tucked into light blue jeans that are ripped on the thighs and knees, with a black leather belt and black chelsea boots, looking both relaxed and a little expensive. Not to mention, his cologne is filling your senses, even out on the sidewalk, and you find yourself walking close to stay in its cloud.

He puts his arm around your back as he takes you to the security guard, who waves you in without checking your identification, and then he lets you go once you're inside. A small part of you wishes he hadn't let go, inviting the warmth of his arm around you. Although it's still early, there are quite a few people milling about and drinking, and Hoseok leads the way to a bar waving at the bartender, who stops what he is doing once you approach. 

The bartender is attractive—tall and muscular, sandy brown hair falling over his forehead, with sharp features that are also soft around the edges, and when he smiles, his cheeks dimple, making him absolutely adorable.

"Hey, Seok!" The handsome bartender shouts, to which Hoseok responds, "Hey, Joonie!"

They catch up, speaking under their breath as they lean over the bar with their heads close to one another, so you take the opportunity to glance around at others sitting and standing nearby. When you look back to Hoseok, both he and the bartender are looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm and wave shyly to them.

"I'm Namjoon," the bartender says as he reaches out to shake your hand, which you accept, trying not to focus too much on how warm and engulfing the embrace is. "Hoseok tells me you're new at the firm. Congrats!"

"Oh, thanks!" you respond a bit timidly.

"What does Yoongi think?" Namjoon asks, still holding your hand but turning to Hoseok. You wonder if you imagined something dark flash in Namjoon's eyes and decide to suppress the feeling, slipping your hand from within his loose grip. Yoongi's name sounds familiar, but you can't remember where you'd heard it before.

"They haven't met yet," Hoseok responds, and this time you definitely spot the darkness flash in Namjoon's eyes as he turns back to you, eyeing you up before turning back to Hoseok. 

You shift around, feeling nervous under his gaze, looking to Hoseok, who leans in to whisper something to Namjoon. You tear your eyes away from them once more and notice a group of four men approaching the bar. They all have their eyes trained on you or Hoseok, or roving between the two of you, and you feel your nerves stir even more. 

Each of the newcomers has beautiful, sharp masculine features softened by delicate lines and curves, much like Namjoon, and you feel like the protagonist human in a vampire film under their stares, suddenly feeling thankful that you opted to wear a turtleneck as your imagination continues to run wild. The shortest of the group, and only one who doesn't have dark brown hair, is particularly stunning with ash brown waves falling over his forehead, and he passes Hoseok, approaching you. 

"Seokie, baby, who's this?" the man asks, eyeing you curiously. 

"Oh, hey guys!" Hoseok chirps, turning from Namjoon to hug the three closest to him before wrapping his arms around the pretty man's shoulders from behind and sending you a wide grin. 

"Are all of your friends insanely attractive?" you blurt, and Hoseok and the pretty one share a chuckle, both staring daggers into you.

"We are, I'm afraid," the pretty one says, lifting a hand for you to shake. "I'm Jimin, by the way."

Hoseok points over his shoulder to the other men, "And that's Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. We all grew up together."

"Well, whatever was in the drinking water where you grew up was definitely blessed," you respond, and Jimin tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he rasps, "Or cursed," in return.

Namjoon sets drink after drink on the counter, and Hoseok grabs one, handing it to you. A cursory sniff indicates that the concoction is both sweet and a little sour, and when you take a sip, your taste buds are hit with the familiar flavor of lychee and soju from your first night out with Hoseok, with what tastes like bitters added to round it out. 

"So you work under our bestie?" the man introduced as Taehyung asks, and it takes a moment for his words to catch up to your brain as you process the low, dulcet tones of his voice. 

"Y—uh, yeah," your tongue stumbles. "He's been showing me the ropes and helping me out a lot."

Taehyung's eyes travel between you and Hoseok before he smirks and says, "Ah, yes, Seokie-hyung is very helpful. I meant our other friend, but—."

"Where is Yoongi, by the way?" the man you believe was called Seokjin pipes up, cutting Taehyung off.

Namjoon responds, "You know how he is," at the same time as Hoseok says, "He'll be here," and that's enough for Seokjin, who nods as he quirks an eyebrow at you briefly before turning to the one who you haven't heard anything from yet. 

As you consume your first drink and make your way through the second, everyone loosens up and stops gazing at you with apex predator energy, except for Jimin, whose smoldering looks only seem to ramp up. Hoseok appears to fight the urge to want to touch you, and you find yourself leaning toward him more and more, letting your arms bump and graze over each other. 

The group's conversation ebbs and flows at rates you can't quite keep up with, so you sway in place to the house music that plays, glancing at the dance floor from time to time, wondering if any of these men may want to join you over there. Jimin seems to catch on first, and he nods his head toward the mass of bodies that has multiplied significantly since your arrival.

"She wants to dance," Jimin suggests, "go show her what those hips can do, Seokie-hyung."

"Ah, she doesn't like me like that, Jimin-ah," Hoseok fake whines, pretending to be hurt by the revelation.

You roll your eyes and scoff, already caving on your own rule, as you nudge Hoseok and say, "Yes I do, let's go."

Jimin's eyes widen, and he smiles a devilish grin, and Hoseok turns to you, looking both surprised and pleased with himself. He slams his drink and reaches around you to place his empty glass on the bar, and you chug the rest of yours, following suit as Hoseok tugs you to the dance floor. 

As soon as Hoseok finds a spot amongst the writhing throng of people, he turns to you, smiling wildly and pulling you close, slinging his arms over your shoulders. You reach out and delicately grab at Hoseok's sides, letting the fabric of his shirt catch between your fingers. Your heart pounds, and you feel even more intoxicated than a moment ago under his gaze. Or, perhaps it's just the alcohol creeping up on you. Either way, you bask in the moment, smiling back and swaying your hips to the beat.

"You do, hmm?" Hoseok challenges.

You nod as you reply, "Yes."

Hoseok pulls you so close you can no longer see his face, wrapping his arms around you so that one hand is holding your shoulders and the other is cradling your head. You breathe in his scent, floral and light, turning your face into the crook of Hoseok's neck. 

Hoseok's voice is deep as he asks, "What changed?"

Your exhale comes out shaky, and you fight the urge to kiss Hoseok's neck, wanting to watch as goosebumps prickle his skin. 

"Nothing changed," you rasp, "I'm just a weak person, okay? I'm giving in to my urges."

Hoseok scoffs, coaxing, "What might these urges be?"

The music changes, the beat slowly becomes sexier, and as Hoseok's hips begin to grind into their sways, you can't help the breathy little sound that escapes your lips. Hoseok seems pleased, holding you impossibly closer as you sync your movements to his. You lick your lips and graze them across Hoseok's neck, and he keens at the feeling, letting out a tiny sound of his own.

"I haven't stopped thinking about that night at the bar," you confess. "How your voice sounded, how badly I wanted you to keep touching me."

"Where would you like me to touch you?" Hoseok purrs into your ear, taking care to graze his lips over your skin, this time.

A shattered breath leaves your lips as you moan, "Everywhere," and Hoseok steps back for a moment, eyeing you up, before taking you by the hand and tugging you away from the dance floor to a darker part of the bar. 

There's a door with a sign that reads Staff Only and Hoseok pushes it open, leading you in as he flips on a light switch and locks the knob behind him. The room is a small office with a crowded desk, covered in printouts of what you assume are sales reports and other miscellaneous data. Hoseok takes his phone out, types for a moment, and shoves the phone back into his pocket with a smirk.

"Had to let Joonie know we would be in here for a while."

You stand stunned, surprised to already find yourself in this scenario. When you began flirting, you expected to drink and dance a little more before deciding where to go afterward, but clearly, Hoseok had something else in mind. Hoseok approaches, gently grabbing onto both of your arms.

"So, as you were saying..." Hoseok coaxes, and you bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. 

"We don't have to if you're not ready," he continues as he closes in on you, rubbing his cheek against your neck and ghosting warm breath over your skin.

"I want to," you swoon, "I just wasn't expecting it to happen immediately."

Hoseok gently kisses your neck just under your ear, and your breath hitches from the feeling. Although his words are telling you that it's okay to stop, his lips are encouraging you to keep going, and, like you said, you're a weak person, giving in to your urges, so rather than telling Hoseok to stop, you take the fabric of his shirt in your fingers and tug him towards you, tilting your head towards his as an invitation, which Hoseok happily accepts.

When your lips finally touch, Hoseok tastes sweet, like the sugary sour drink you both consumed, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue persuades you to let it enter and explore you. Hoseok takes his time tasting you, groaning softly when you push and pull your tongue playfully in time with his. 

"Your lips taste so sweet," Hoseok purrs against your mouth, and you can't help but moan, which makes Hoseok's lips tug into a smirk before he says, "I wonder if you taste this good everywhere."

Although your brain is telling you to slow down, to get to know Hoseok a little better, to wait a little longer, your lips betray your brain when you mutter, "Find out."

Hoseok wastes no time, hands dropping to the waistline of your jeans as he sinks to his knees, looking up at you with an expression of mirth mixed with uncertainty. You drag your bottom lip against your teeth, watching Hoseok watch you before you send a slight nod of encouragement his way. Hoseok motions his head towards the office chair just behind him, tugging on your waistband to encourage you to take a seat, so you shimmy around and reach for it, grabbing it by the arm and wheeling it to where you are. 

You wait, watching Hoseok's fingers undo your button, then your zipper, never breaking eye contact as he hooks his fingers around the hem of the jeans and slowly pulls them down. It's hard not to feel nervous and a little self-conscious as Hoseok exposes you inch by inch. Once the denim reaches your knees, Hoseok mutters, "Sit down," and you do, taking the arms of the chair in both hands as you ease your way down. 

Hoseok stops with your pants down far enough to remove your right shoe, then tugs on your leg, encouraging you to pull it out of the jeans. Once your leg is free, Hoseok sits up on his knees and wraps his arms around your hips, tugging you until you're sitting on the very end of the chair, which shifts and rolls along with the movement. You giggle as you're moved around, but the sound dies in your throat when Hoseok leans forward and licks you over your plain cotton panties, pressing his tongue against you hard enough that it makes your hips shake. 

The club's music is loud on the other side of the door, so you have no reason to feel self-conscious of your moans, but you bite your lip, trying to keep your voice from being too loud. Hoseok pulls your right leg up, hooking it over his shoulder as he tugs your panties to the side and dives in, parting your folds with a long, slow lap and circling his tongue over your clit. You sink back into the chair with a whimper, gripping onto the armrests tightly. Hoseok groans as he consumes you, licking in flat, broad strokes and sucking softly as if he's done this many times before and already knows how you like it. 

With a moan, Hoseok mutters, "You taste amazing." 

Your hips shake, and your chest heaves as Hoseok skillfully builds your arousal, heat blanketing your skin, especially your cheeks. 

"Fuck," you whine, "you're so good, Seokie."

Hoseok sucks one of his fingers into his mouth before tracing it down your slit to your entrance, barely skipping a beat with his tongue, and as he slowly pushes it inside you, you moan, arching your back. Hoseok fingers you at a deep, steady pace, and you reach forward to tangle your fingers in his hair as you let pleasure wash over you. Your mouth hangs slack, and eyelashes flutter closed, and you ride Hoseok's face in small, stuttered movements, feeling your orgasm on the precipice of bursting as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge. 

"I'm going to come, don't stop," you cry out. "Please, don't stop!"

A second finger enters you, and you unravel, feeling the slight stretch as he fills fingers you harder. This is all you need to come, eyes rolling back, body trembling as you moan, feeling wave after wave of pleasure overcome you. Hoseok doesn't stop until your hips are practically convulsing from overstimulation, and you beg him to slow down. He pulls his fingers out slowly, groaning and gently licking your swollen clit, continuing to savor you. 

"Fuck, you're amazing," you pant, watching Hoseok as he licks one last languid stripe over your pussy that makes you tremble. 

Hoseok meets your eyes and sucks your release from his fingers, smirking as your eyes widen as you watch him enjoy you. You sit slumped back in the chair, allowing Hoseok to drop your leg from his shoulder, and when he stands, hovering over you, his cock is hard against his jeans. You can't help but stare, inspecting the thick, long outline and wondering what it looks like, what he might taste like. 

Hoseok, however, doesn't grant your wish, instead pulling his phone from his pocket, which is vibrating. He takes a tissue from a box on the desk and wipes your slick off of his chin, and, with a smirk, Hoseok answers the call, muttering something into it as he stares down at you. 

You begin to feel cold and a little exposed and sit up in the chair, doing your best not to let it roll around. When Hoseok hangs up, he nods to your pants and says, "We'll have to finish this later," before adjusting his cock in his jeans. You move your panties so they cover you, hissing at the feeling of the cold, wet fabric on your pussy, then sit forward and put your leg back into your pants before standing up and wiggling back into the denim. 

Your legs may as well be made of gelatin, and Hoseok holds you by the arm as you step into your sneaker and push your foot around until it's on right. Hoseok kisses you on the lips softly, and you can taste yourself on him, smiling as he purrs against you. You reach up to hold onto Hoseok, but he pulls out of the kiss too quickly, making his way toward the door, and looking back to make sure you're following. 

You wonder how you look, feeling like your hair or makeup is probably a little disheveled, so when Hoseok opens the door, ushering you back into the dark nightclub, you ask where to find the restroom. He points you in the direction, and you part ways, promising to meet him back at the bar. As you reach the doors to the restrooms, you're passing the men's room when the door swings open, catching your eye. 

Your breath hitches when the white-haired man from your law firm comes walking out, and you notice him rove his eyes up and down your body with a smirk. From far away, standing on the mezzanine at work, he was captivating, but up close, he's breathtaking. You feel like a deer in headlights standing in front of him now, watching his sharp, feline eyes bore into you. There's something so soft and inviting about his features, yet they look like they may cut you if you get too close. 

Realizing you'd been caught in a trance, you clear your throat and send a shy smile before turning and continuing to the women's room. Although your hair and makeup are mostly intact, you wipe a little mascara that's run under your eyes and straighten your shirt out, tucking it into your pants a little better than you managed in the employee office. 

You're suddenly conflicted, finding your mind wandering back to the platinum beauty despite how Hoseok just made you feel. You wonder if platinum boy would also be able to make you come undone so fast and whether he'd be as gentle; something about him makes you think he'd be rougher, more dominating. The fluorescent light of the bathroom makes you feel a bit dizzy, or perhaps it's a blend of the light, the alcohol, the orgasm, and the men. You wonder if you'll see the blond man again, assuming he knows Hoseok since he works in the same building; they're probably acquainted. You try not to overthink it or let it get to you too much while you make your way back through the club until you get near enough to the bar to see everyone and stop in your tracks, watching as Hoseok and the blond man laugh over something while Hoseok has his arms draped over the man's shoulders.

You approach slowly, suddenly feeling really awkward for letting your thoughts get carried away; clearly, these two are close. Once Hoseok spots you, his face lights up, and he finishes what he's saying to the blond man before ending his embrace. Hoseok reaches toward the bar, picks up a full drink, and holds it out to you. As you get closer, platinum man turns, and you do everything you can to not stare at him, feeling your cheeks warm as you smile and accept the drink from Hoseok. 

Everyone spots you and turns your way, and it's Namjoon who breaks the group's silence by shouting over the loud club music, "How was the staff room?"

You feel bashful, mouth falling agape as you stare at Namjoon. Hoseok turns and sends him a sharp glance, which makes Namjoon laugh and turn away, and you do your best to laugh it off, as well, though you can feel everyone's eyes on you. 

Hoseok mutters, "Sorry, just ignore him," and you nod, doing your best to swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Now that we're all here, let's raise a toast!" Jimin announces, and you watch as the group all turns their attention to the blond man, who is now leaning against the bar with a shy smile tugging at his lips. 

You wonder if the toast is for him, and your question is answered quickly when Hoseok raises his glass and turns to the man. 

"Ah yes, let's hear it for Senior Partner Min Yoongi! Although he was promoted months back, his dad has officially stepped down, handing Min & Jung over! Cheers, Yoongi-hyung! Give my dad a run for his money!"

Although you raise your glass to your lips and sip as everyone else cheers, you find yourself feeling a bit lost, trying to let the pieces fall into place. And then, one by one, they do. Min Yoongi, Min & Jung. This man is the son of Min Shinhyuk. And he's the Yoongi everyone keeps talking about, the man who Hoseok called his best friend. The realization suddenly hits you: Min Yoongi is your boss. 

The group cheers and chatters around you, and you find yourself spacing out a lot, staring at various objects and people around you. You're not sure why the news has affected you so much. Perhaps because you will see Yoongi around the building, and probably quite often since he and Hoseok's father are in charge. 

Part of you is concerned about your job, now that Yoongi must know something happened between you and Hoseok. What if he finds your behavior inappropriate? You could lose your career before it's even started. Nausea hits your guts, and you try not to spiral, avoiding eye contact with Yoongi as much as possible. 

Everything goes according to plan in Operation Avoid Min Yoongi until you're on your last drink, and Hoseok gets lost in conversation with the group. You're checking the time on your phone and responding to a message from a friend when you feel his presence. 

Sheepishly, you look up from your phone to find Yoongi standing in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the group, including Hoseok. Panic washes over you, and you open your mouth to speak, but Yoongi beats you to the chase. However, his voice is so raspy, so deep that you miss what he says the first time, leaning forward as you respond, "Hmm?"

Yoongi leans down and steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you, and you notice a musky, heady scent coming from him that may very well be as intoxicating as the cocktail in your hand.

"Hoseok says you're doing really well," Yoongi mutters.

"Oh," you respond, unable to form more words, unsure of where this conversation may be going. 

"Monday, I'll have a case for you. Meet me in my office first thing."

"O-oh, okay," you stammer, making quick eye contact before tearing your gaze away.

"I believe what you meant to say was 'yes, sir'," Yoongi directs, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

You look back to Yoongi's eyes, and he's quietly watching you, waiting for a response, so you mutter, "S-sorry, sir," eliciting a grin. 

"Good girl," Yoongi responds before leaning closer, slotting his face next to yours as he adds, "I like pencil skirts; you should wear one."

"Y-yes, sir," you croak, which elicits a chuckle from Yoongi, who leaves you to talk to the rest of the men, and you stand there stunned and, if you're being honest, aroused. What will Monday have in store, you wonder as you take a sip from your drink.

♢ Story written for the Suits & Ties Collab event

Tags: @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @mwitsmejk 🖤 DM or commend to be added to the tag list!

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Shaky Deposition is copyright 2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved.  Don’t be a silent reader! I love to hear from you! 

[cloudygeorge]

easy

pairing: gallaghers + co x gallagher!reader [platonic]

summary: just because you leave doesn’t mean you’re not family. 

warnings: mentions abuse, i changed a little so that the abuse isn’t vivid or in detail but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on, cursing, alcohol. blood, violence, manipulation

It was easy to convince yourself it was your fault. You knew none of it was.. but it was oh so easy to jump onto your own insecurities and tell yourself that yes, you did in fact deserve this. It was even easier when he always apologized, telling you he was so sorry, and he’d do his best to get better. He’d always sigh, hold his head in his hands and tell you that he did truly love you, but sometimes you made him so mad. 

It was just so easy to lie in bed at night, or even stare in the mirror at the deep purple marks on your body, and tell yourself you deserved this. Why? It always differed. Sometimes you blamed it on what you did in that moment that made him blow up. Oh, I just messed up dinner. He didn’t like it, and don’t we all get upset with things we don’t like?... I broke a plate, and he didn’t want to have to clean up, that’s all. I shouldn’t have jumped like that... I should have told him I was staying longer at work today. 

Sometimes, you blamed on the guilt you felt. He would be aggravated with you, and when you asked him, he would never tell you what you did wrong that bothered him so much. He’d just scoff and throw his hands in the air, giving you a look as if he was too disgusted to stand close to you, and begin to tell you he couldn’t believe you were so terrible, so inconsiderate. He loved to pick out your insecurities and turn them into flaws to use against you. 

Whenever he told you you were weak, pathetic and useless, you always felt that guilt resurface like a heavy knot in your stomach. Even though your family had made it clear that they supported you, you couldn’t stop feeling guilty about leaving them behind. 

Fiona had been left to take care of them all by herself, right? Sure, she told you to go to college, and you had moved out so that there was more room, and you still pitched in for the bills even though you didn’t live there anymore.. but how could you leave them there by themselves?

You supposed that was why you never tried to ask for help, honestly. You left, you didn’t have the right to ask for anything. As you sat at a table in the Alibi, you couldn’t even look in Kevin’s direction. Whenever you went to go refill your boyfriend’s drinks (because that’s what good girlfriends do), you always avoided him by going to his coworker. 

You were anxiously waiting to go home, antsy from all the overwhelming feelings you were getting from being in the familiar place, when he asked for yet another refill. You smiled weakly at him, causing him to pat your head as you got up to do just that. You didn’t even notice the man passed out in your way as you walked back, tripping over him and spilling the beer all over your boyfriend. 

“Damn it, Y/N!” He cursed. 

“I-I’m sorry!” you rushed to say, moving to grab something to clean it all up with, but he didn't seem to care, wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a bruising grip, yanking you after him. “Let’s talk outside for a moment,” he growled lowly, making you pale. You suddenly wished there was someone else in the bar other than old men attempting to drink away their woes and cursing capitalism. 

He pulled you out the back door, and waisted no time to shove you. You let out a cry as your back painfully scraped against the brick wall. He ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his shirt and then over at you furiously. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, can’t you do one thing right?”

You flinched as he came closer. “I-I said I’m sorry! It was an accident! He was just laying-”

“I didn’t ask for excuses!” He spat, winding his fist back, but before it could connect with most likely either your ribs or your face, both already bruised, the sound of the dumpster slamming caught his attention. 

“I’d ask if we have a problem here, but I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” Kevin spat as he looked between the two of you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Mind your business, Kev,” your boyfriend hissed, turning back to you, only for Kevin to grab his hair harshly, you by the arm gently. and tug you out of the way before slamming his nose into the brick. The bartender made sure you were out of the action zone before letting the bastard go. He jerked his chin in the direction of the exit of the alley. “Leave. And don’t fucking come here again. You’re pathetic,” he spat and when the man just clutched his bleeding nose without moving, Kevin glared harder. “The fuck are you waiting for, a written invitation? Get the hell out of here before I do more than break your nose.”

It was ironic to see the man who had spent so much time breaking you down running off with his tail between his legs. But you barely even noticed as Kevin turned to you. He didn't say anything as you made eye contact, the two of you just staring at each other until your lower lip trembled and he softened visibly. “Y/N..”

That was all it took for you to break down in tears. Heavy, heart wrenching sobs left your throat and in seconds Kevin picked you up, realizing you were crying too hard to walk, but you couldn't stay outside in the cold. He kept your face pressed into him so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed as he yelled that he was closing early and everyone needed to get out. It took him about 20 minutes to get everyone to clear out, and get you to calm down enough to sit you on the bar. 

He hung up the phone after calling Fiona, staring at you. He didn't like what he saw. In all the years he had known you, even through all of your teen phases, you had never been like this. You looked fragile as you played with the hem of your skirt, silent tears still streaking down your face. You had stopped sobbing, but it didn’t take a genius to know that you were far from alright, which Kevin had told your family, so he wasn’t the least bit surprised when they all came bursting through the door a few minutes later. 

You looked up when you heard the commotion, but when you locked eyes with Lip, you just started crying again, and your brother lunged for you, hugging you tightly. It hurt your sore ribs, but you didn’t bother to correct him. You had missed them all so much. Ian and Fiona hovered behind Lip, looking just as upset. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?’ Lip asked as he pulled away and you just shrugged. “It just... seemed like something I could handle at the time. I didn’t think I needed to bother you guys with it.”

Fiona scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Y/N.. we’re family. This is the kind of shit you tell us, no matter who says not to. We could’ve helped you.”

You went to say something, but Ian, who had been suspiciously watching you this whole time suddenly spoke up. “You know.. just because you moved out doesn’t mean that you mean any less to us. You still matter to us, Y/N. Don’t let that son of a bitch get in your head.”

“But he’s in my apartment,” you said, realizing that even after this, you would still have to deal with him but Lip cut you off. “Don’t worry about that, yeah? Just let us be here for you.”

And for once, it wasn’t the harder choice. It was finally easy to just sit back and let your siblings reassure and take care of you. It was finally easy to let yourself remember you were loved by them.

[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus​ summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days. 

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him. 

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music. 

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it. 

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine. 

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration. 

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above. 

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that. 

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass. 

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat. 

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are. 

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery. 

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.” 

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows. 

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does. 

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life. 

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away. 

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles. 

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking. 

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.” 

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space. 

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper. 

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one. 

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.” 

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it. 

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this. 

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention. 

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic. 

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds. 

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin. 

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter. 

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story. 

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills. 

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more. 

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛-ρ† 3

Pairings: enemy, barista, student!jaemin x student, barista!reader. 

<previous next>

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint real hard

Anger and frustration was the only way to describe it. Plus the lingering feeling of humiliation when jaemin didn't give a direct answer. Students eyed the two of you, mostly you for your braveness to even confront the boy which was shocking from their point of view, knowing all too well of your history with each other.

For once though, you've seen jaemin hesitate and stutter with an answer. It was quite something really, and you couldn't believe it.

And it wasnt like it was a yes or no answer, he only blurted out, "W-we have tu-tutor sessions...later...." and walked away after a few seconds of looking at you. God, and everyone was whispering among themselves and friends like it was the hottest topic, which in a strange sense it kind of was.

You dragged yourself back to the table where yeri sat and put your head in your arms.

You felt stupid. This wasn't how you thought your day would go, nor did you think jaemin would say something like that. Instead, you thought jaemin would for sure say yes. The things he said, the way he acted, jaemin couldve passed as your boyfriend and you thought maybe now it was possible.

"Y/n are you okay?" Yeri put a hand on your arm and you shook your head, still buried in your arms.

"I hate him." Your voice came out muffled.

Yeri let out a long sigh, "Its going to be okay. There’s plenty of other guys you'll meet who'll be worth your time." She stopped when you lifted your head. The look on your face was melancholy and red, but she didn't know what she could do about it. "What about that taemin guy? He's pretty cute. And from what you told me, he's super nice." Yeri wiggled her eyebrow suggestively making you groan.

"I don’t want to hurt him." You frowned, not being able to imagine using him as a rebound, "I realized I don’t like him like I thought I did."

"I get it. But don't pain yourself over a boy." She shook her head and let out a quiet chuckle, "especially jaemin."

"But jaemins literally what I want. How am I supposed to ignore that?"

Yeri stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, "Its almost impossible to ignore feelings..." There was a short pause until she started again, "So maybe just...ignore him? I don’t know man, I’m not good at this stuff."

"Yeah no shit," You snorted, "but ignoring him is an option. He gets mad when I do things like that, and ignoring him would get his attention, which means," you took a deep breath and grinned, "I’d get my ass destroyed by him whenever he breaks!"

"That’s literally not at all what I meant by ignoring him."

You sat back in your seat, smiling like a maniac to yourself at the devilish plan that would possibly not end well for you.

"But it could work." You pointed out.

"Could doesn't mean would. You know what, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall." As yeri stood up and gathered her trash, you threw your pile along with hers just to annoy her. "This is why I'm your only friend."

"I thought you were going over jaemins for tutoring?" Jimin asked with a raised brow at your sudden intrusion into the apartment giving him no time to put a shirt on.

"I decided not to go." You shrugged, setting your bag on the floor. In reality, it was just the start of your plan of ignoring jaemin, but you weren't going to tell jimin that.

"Huh?? But you said he was good at trig and you would fail without him." As he tilted his head in confusion, you tried to come up with an excuse.

And not even a second later, an idea popped into your head, "I’m starting to understand it better." It wasn’t far from the truth to be honest, jaemin was doing a very good job at explaining, but in reality, you weren't perfect at all.

"Liar! You suck at trig!"

Your eye twitched, "I understand it slightly better."

"I still don't believe you." Jimin shrugged, "its only been like 2 days."

"I’m a fast learner." You huffed. Sadly your roommate knew you too well for you to lie. It wasn’t surprising anymore that he could point out just one flaw.

"Another lie. Now run along, I’m watching tv." Jimin shoo'ed you away with a hand motion. It took almost all your patience not to say anything in return, but it was pointless now.

Once in your room, you threw yourself onto the bed, not caring enough to close the door as you started changing from school clothes to regular shorts and a tank top.

Now once looking back at it, today was just a weird day. It was quiet in all the classes like someone just flipped a switch and one thing that threw you off the most was that jaemin didn’t ignore you completely like you thought he would, but instead he still helped with the work you were struggling with. Other than that he never talked to you. And it wasn’t like you wanted him to, you actually didn't want him to because of your little plan.

To be expected, you got multiple texts from him wondering where you were and why you weren't at his house and each text got more and more threatening so you just put your phone on silent and decided to take a nap until work. If this is how jaemin acts when you ignore him for barely a day then it should be easier to break him then you thought.

Rolling over in your bed, you closed your eyes, ignoring the aching feeling of anxiousness in your gut and tried to get some sleep. But sleeping was almost impossible. No matter how sleepy you were, or how heavy your eyes were, sleeping just didn't want to come. And you really didn't want to go on your phone because jaemin was calling you and in a matter of time you would probably answer it because you were just a little afraid of him.

Moving out of the bed and getting ready for work was your last option. Though the amount of black pants and white shirts that were lost from your closet made you realize how much you actually worked. The last time you had a day off was during summer vacation with jimin and a few of his friends plus yeri. Its been a while, and you kind of missed the break but you can't complain too much since you're making such good money.

After throwing on the clothes and lacing up your shoes, you left after saying good bye to jimin. Its still early, but you couldn't bring yourself to pass time until work and going there wasn’t as bad as one may think.

After you got in the car, you left the apartment, driving off to the cafe. You blasted some of your music on the way, singing the lyrics loudly since no one was in the car. You gotta say, driving alone is sometimes more fun since you can do stuff like this without people judging you.

Finally at the cafe, Irene happily greeted you, not giving you time to say hi back and started jumping up and down talking about her promotion to manager. She literally looked like she'd explode any minute from too much happiness.

"I get to boss you around even more than I did before." She grinned and you playfully shoved her to get to your station.

"If that’s possible." A little fist punched your shoulder as you laughed, "I’m kidding, I’m kidding."

"Hey, I'm not that bad! But I could be worse if you’d like." You covered your mouth to stifle the laugh that would come out when she sent you a wink.

There were many orders coming up, food, smoothies, coffee, anything. It kept you, irene, and your coworkers in the back completely occupied and busy. Youd even catch yourself drifting off into space because you were working too fast, almost messing some orders up too.

"I can bring this to the customer, go work on the other orders please." Irene rushed away after you smiled and did what she wanted.

Moments passed and after a few more drinks you saw the familiar black haired man walking into the back where you stood making a drink.

Jaemin didn't look all too happy when he saw you, so you tried your best to ignore him, but its not easy to ignore someone who’s been on your mind the whole day and somehow you're just figuring that out now.

He looked nice too, well he always does, but his black hair looked particularly very good. The way it was parted yet still fell over his face on some ends, and the way some parts stuck out just looked pretty on him.

"You’re here early...again." jaemin spoke while looking up at the orders, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I was kind of bored at home." You muttered, moving as jaemin reached over you for a cup.

"Should’ve came to my house to study, maybe you wouldn't have been so bored." He lifted an eyebrow in your direction almost tauntingly and expecting a snap back but you stayed quiet, keeping it silent for a bit.

Jaemin was doing his order, and you did yours, though it did feel like time was just dragging you slowly through the day because you were so anxious near him. You felt as if he would break if you stepped out of place even just a bit. But wasn’t that your plan in the first place? 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Jaemin began and you looked up from the last drink you put in the tray. He had anticipated your answer as you suspired.

"I was sleeping.."It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk as you tried to walk away with the tray in hand followed by jaemin grabbing your shirt and pulling you back, the tray tipping slightly.

"Sleeping? How could you be sleeping when you read my texts? Now why are you lying to me?" Question after question, you tried wiggling out of his strong grasp and rolled your eyes to show you didn’t care. With only so much patience left, jaemin grabbed your hair, bringing your face closer to his. "I asked you a question so i suggest you answer before I spank your ass in front of everyone."

You stopped and nervously looked around the cafe to see if anyone heard him, but luckily for you everyone was minding their own business or not paying attention but still you couldn’t mask your shyness, "Y-you wouldn't do that. You're bluffing." You huffed.

Though you're not much shorter than jaemin, you felt small under his strong gaze, almost weaker near him too.

"Wanna bet?" He questioned and his sincerity was almost scary. You could feel his hand snake a bit too far down your backside and you pushed him off. "Answer me; why are you lying?"

"I don’t know." He slowly let go of your hair and ran his fingers through it. Nervousness fell over you, thinking he'd grab it again.

"You don’t know, huh." Jaemin said softly. You shook your head hoping he'd believe it.

"I-i don’t.."

Jaemin rolled his eyes, "Don’t lie or ignore me again."

"Yeah yeah whatever-" You cried when he grabbed and tugged on your hair again, making your face contort in pain, "Okay! Fine! I wont do any of that again!"

That being said, jaemin let go after giving you that natural look telling you not to push him today, or any day for that matter. "Little bitch." You mumbled.

"Call me that again, I dare you."

It took almost all of your self control to not flip him off.

Lee jeno, the infamous frat boy and fuck boy on campus, was jaemins closest friend. He was gorgeous, kind, and smart, but one thing that set you off about him was he could be quite rude. Just one flaw, and it happened to only be towards you. So you wondered; 'why the hell am I asking lee jeno for help when there's a hundred more men in this school?' Because jeno was jaemins closest friend. Plain and simple. The only thing is, your brilliant plan could fail. Either way it was a fifty-fifty chance.

"Lee jeno!" You called and ran up to the boy, confused as to why you looked happy to see him when you and him don't really like each other. "I have a question."

"I might have an answer." Jeno surprisingly smiled, now you see why people were whipped.

"I want to make jaemin jealous."

He stopped in his tracks and nervously laughed, "Why would you want to do that? Of all things?"

You smiled up at him, "I wanna be a pain in his ass so I have an idea and I need your help." Jeno scratched the back of his head, still not sure where you were headed with this conversation.

"Uhh...okay what is it then?" You happily jumped when jeno gave you the go to ask.

"Can you be my fake boyfriend?"

"You’re who-what!?" Jeno choked trying to find a hint that you were joking and just testing him or something, but you were dead serious and that's what made him scared. "So you’re plan to make jaemin jealous is to date me? Damn that’s kinda smart and bit bitchy."

You frowned, "I just like making him regret certain things and testing his patience is all."

"So a bitch," he shrugged, " but how the hell would this whole thing work? You and I don’t have a really good record with each other and hes well aware of that. Jaemins not dumb." Jeno pointed out as you tilted your head in almost a ‘you’re so stupid’ manner.

“Didn’t you take acting lessons?” There was a slight delay but he nodded nonetheless, “Then just act the part, lee. Its not that hard.” you rolled your eyes with a scoff, jeno playfully slapped your shoulder.

“Its not that simple! Its you for gods sake! How am i supposed to pretend to like you?”

“I dont know, you just do it.” Shrugging off the almost annoyed yet smiling boy, you noticed someone out the corner of your eye; the devil himself. Just staring at the two of you. Surprisingly, jeno took notice of that and grabbed your hand while walking close to you, never letting his smile fall, and walked around the school building to a bench.

"That was smooth." You mumbled earning a laugh from jeno. "See, was that so hard?”

The boy rubbed the back of his neck nervously with an eye smile, “I guess not, but do you really think he’ll fall for it?”

That was a good question and if you sat and thought about it more, you probably would’ve said no, but for some reason you pushed out a yes. Jaemins a jealous and possessive boy, there’s no way this shouldn’t work.

“Hell yeah. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Well-”

“Don’t answer that.”

Currently, you and jeno were awkwardly flirting with each other in front of jaemin at the cafe. Light touches and small smiles and giggles was kind of annoying in jaemins eyes. But this was the best plan yet.

After not going to jaemins third tutor session and ignoring multiple other calls because he didn’t bother texting anymore, you were at the cafe on your day off just to piss him off. And for some reason, this was probably the most fun, yet awkward moment in your life.

"Is he still watching?" Jeno whispered as he smiled to make it seem as if he was flirting.

You quickly glanced up and jaemin was indeed still watching, actually glaring, but you couldn't even tell if it was at you or jeno, maybe even both.

"Hes still watching." You turned and grinned at him. "He looks very mad."

"I know something to get him more mad."

"And what would that be?" Raising an eyebrow at him, jeno suddenly grabbed you by your face and kissed your cheek.

"Now look back and tell me if hes still there."

You were shocked but did as he said and sure enough, jaemin was no where to be seen, "Hes gonna kill us..."

"No just you, I’ll be gone by then." He laughed when you sent him a glare. "This was your plan not mine."

"And this will for sure end my life later on," You faced jeno, "When was the last time he was really mad?"

Jeno sat back to think about it and let go of your hand that you forgot he was holding, "He got into a fight with one of our friends just a few months ago. You know donghyuck, right?"

You nodded your head. Of course you knew donghyuck, he was the biggest brat of them all and out of every one of jaemins friends, you got along with him pretty well, turning out to be very good friends. You haven't talked to him in few weeks though, college kind of messed some things up for you guys but you still try to keep in contact as much as possible.

"Well a few months ago jaemin and hyuck got into this huge fight."

"Was it as bad as that time mark and hyuck fought?" You asked and jeno shook his head.

"No it was probably worse. Jaemin was almost in a fist fight with him--actually no I think they did end up physically fighting." Jeno sighed, "Anyways jaemin was super cold to everyone and got into a lot of fights with some other people like me," he giggled at the thought, "It was also around the time he dumped coffee on your head."

Only jeno could bring back that stupid coffee incident and make you remember when you wanted to commit a murder.

"That was one of the worst things hes done to me don’t make me think of that." You whined, throwing your head back, "And hes done a lot of bad things."

Jeno grinned, he was standing next to jaemin at the time laughing at you. In his perspective it was funny, but for you, it was not.

"Not gonna lie it was kind of funny, but I did feel a bit bad."

"Woah. You felt bad for me!? Who the hell are you?" You said dramatically making jeno throw his head back in laughter.

"Someone who actually has remorse," He looked you up and down before starting again, "for some people."

You huffed, "And to think you were becoming nice." Jeno giggled one last time but it quickly faded away when a hand slammed on the table.

Both of you looked up at the boy with jet black hair, he was none too happy with all your laughing and 'flirting', and wanted to interrupt it the best he could.

"Hey jeno," jaemin nodded his head in his friends direction, somehow managing to make his anger dissolve into a real smile.

"Whats up?" Jeno smiled.

You sat back staring at the two, jaemins eyes were locked onto jenos and his hand was still sitting there. They were like statues.

"Oh you know...working and watching you dumbasses flirt." Jaemin painfully grit his teeth, still holding a smile and you tried not to laugh.

Out of all things you found cute, it was jaemins poor attempt at trying not to be angry or jealous. It was like watching a rom-com but in real life.

"Its disgusting." Jaemin mumbled.

He turned towards you, but with no smile like you didn’t deserve one which in this case you was probably true since this was your idea in the first place.

"I've never seen you come here on your day off. Isn't that a bit strange?"

"Jeno wanted something sweet," you lied, "and we have the best sweets. What, can I not come here on my day off?” Man did jaemin find you annoying right now. It was getting to the point that talking to you was becoming a chore. Either he couldn’t talk to you because you ignored him or you started speaking in ways that made his eye twitch.

"You're gonna be in so much trouble later." Jaemin muttered low enough for you to hear. Jeno smirked at jaemins words too, knowing this was working way too well for you. "I should get back to work before irene gets mad and you guys should get going too."

You raised a brow, "And why is that?"

"Jeno always brings his dates home to fuck."

"If you're jealous then just say it." You growled.

Jaemin looked between you and a red faced jeno and snickered, "Im not jealous, I already had my turn." He winked and walked away leaving you and jeno staring at each other with wide eyes.

"I...feel like this didn’t go as we intended.." jeno laughed but with no emotion, almost in a sadistic way.

You puffed out your cheeks, not sure what to do now that jaemin was playing like this too.

"I should bring you back home." He started standing but you grabbed his hand to stop him.

"No wait.” He looked down at you, “Isn't there a party later?"

"Yeah?" jeno tilted his head, wondering why you’re asking this question when you never go to any of the frat party’s.

"Lucas is throwing it right?" Jeno nodded his head and you perked up, "Can we go?"

It was a strange request, you never wanted to go to any parties because you worked and studied whenever you felt the need to, so parties were never on your mind. But right now, you felt that a party is what you need. You've never been but it can't be that bad if you're with someone. And you even know the host so there should be other people you know too. It would be fun anyway.

"If you really want to, but you might lose me at some point."

"That’s okay," your face said otherwise, "I’ll try to find someone I know." It wasn’t likely that you would, but you knew that the main people who were going to go was hyuck and lucas. There was also jaehyun and johnny, the only thing was you didn’t know them as well as hyuck or lucas and ever talked to them a few times. They were nice, but you probably wouldn't go up to them and strike up a conversation.

"Alright then let's go, the party’s gonna start in like two hours. And seeing how long it took you just to get ready for this stupid date, you’re probably gonna need it." Jeno pulled you up by the hand that stopped him before, and you both walked out of the cafe.

You got into jenos car and put on your seat belt waiting patiently for him to drive off. The only problem was that he was busy on his phone, trying to find music to play.

"Don’t look at me like that." Jeno did a double take at your unamused face that clearly stated you wanted to leave so you can get ready for the party.

"Then pick a damn song and let's go." You smacked his thigh repeatedly causing him to groan and put his playlist on shuffle, driving off after hitting play. "See, that wasn’t so hard now was it?"

"Your’e annoying. I cant believe i even said yes to this fake dating thing. Now I see why jaemin didn’t respond."

"Hey that's not very nice," you pouted, "and don't make me think of that for God sake, its depressing."

"Good now shut up and let me drive." And so you did, letting just the music and jenos quiet singing be the only thing playing in your ears.

It was a quick ride anyway from your job to the apartment, jimin was doing his normal thing which was sitting on the couch shirtless and watching dramas. The little up and down he gave jeno wasn't unseen by you either, but you never commented as you walked by with a smirk.

Jeno was close behind you too almost like a lost puppy. He even sat on your bed and watched you apply a bit of make up for the party and lazily lounged about as you picked an outfit, not sure whether to go with an innocent pink flowy skirt, or black ripped jeans.

"I like the skirt better," jeno hoisted himself on the bed, "it gives me better access-"

"Don’t even think about it!" You whipped a pillow straight to his head, he wasn’t quick to dodge as it hit him perfectly where you wanted it to, "I’m about to choose the jeans."

The boy tilted his head as he pouted at the two choices in your hand, Jeno preferred the innocent look on women but this wasn’t for him--in fact it wasn’t for anyone except yourself, but he couldn’t stop from staring at the pretty baby pink skirt.

"How about you try them on and pick which one you think looks better on you." He smiled that eye smile of his after having a little war with himself.

You nodded your head and rushed to the bathroom to throw on one of the bottoms first.

Once you came back, you stood in front of jeno with the jeans on and checked yourself out in the mirror. It hugged your waist sweetly and complimented your legs well, but you didn’t think this was going to be the winner out of the two.

"Okay maybe a skirt would look better." You whispered loud enough for jeno to hear.

"Told you! Skirts suit you better anyways." Jeno sat against the headboard in victory as you went back to change into a skirt. The only thing left was a top, but jeno seemed to already have that covered when he threw a white laced bralette at your face. "This is cute." He made heart eyes at the bralette you held up.

"It is but don't you think it would show too much?" You questioned, though you couldn’t lie that you were a bit tempted to wear it though it did cut a bit low.

"Dude its fine, a lot of other girls wear way worse stuff than what I just gave you."

You decided to trust jenos words, and left to put on the shirt. Unsurprisingly it looked amazing with the skirt and your beautiful skin. So maybe jeno was good at picking clothes out, but you wouldn't tell him that.

After doing any last few touches you had, you and jeno left after saying goodbye to jimin, who was still checking jeno out, and left for the party.

"You’re not gonna change?" You wondered as you sat in the car.

Jeno shrugged and smiled, "I’m a guy so I don't care what I wear."

"Thats cap."

Jeno rolled his eyes and began driving to the destination. Sometime during the ride you snatched his phone to find a good song to play, ignoring the boy who whined as you took it from him.

After finding a song and placing the phone back down, you carelessly started belching the lyrics out to purposely irritate jeno who was struggling to not pull the car over and leave.

"Y/n, who sings this song?"

"Michael Jackson, why?"

"Please keep it that way."

"I-"

"And we are here!!" Jeno slammed on his breaks and peacefully left the car as if he didn’t just insult your singing. You got out, a bit intimidated by the crowd of people standing outside dancing with drinks in hand while others smoked. Girls all in tight shirts that hugged them perfectly or the shorts that made their ass pop almost literally. Boys being boys by taking shots or chugging their beer in competitions. This was all new to you and somehow you found yourself clinging onto jenos arm like a little girl.

"Is it always this crowded?" You looked up waiting for his answer.

"Yeah but that's because it's lucas' party. He always knows how to bring people in," he looked around at some of the unfamiliar faces that were chilling by the entrance, "c’mon let's go inside."

Jeno dragged you in like you were the lightest thing and passed you a cup once at a table filled with drinks.

"Want something. Maybe a shot?" Jeno winked as you scoffed.

You looked between the variety of drinks, they were all too strong or too bitter for your liking because of your lack of drinking so it only made your face scrunch, "These are all disgusting."

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you're a light weight!" Jeno complained but needless to say he still grabbed your cup, barely filling it with some alcohol and handed it back.

You looked at the somewhat dark liquid and sniffed it. Not the sweetest scent, but it is what it is. Tilting your head back, you drank the small amount that jeno gave you and he watched with wide eyes as you coughed at the intense flavor. Something like a mix of cinnamon.

"...you just drank fireball.." jeno mumbled but you were still focused on the burning sensation in the back of your throat. It definitely isn’t a smooth drink and its fairly strong, something you can't take, but you shook the cup in his face for more, "Are you trying to get wasted?"

"Well we are at a party-"

"Y/NNN!!!!" A voice interrupted the conversation and you both turned to see none other than lucas himself running towards you with wide arms, two cups in hand, and a huge smile on his face. "I haven't seen you in so long!!" Lucas engulfed you in a bear crushing hug making jeno laugh behind you.

"You saw me last week." You said in his chest, still being crushed by the giant.

"That’s a long time for some people, be considerate man." Lucas let go, drinking out of the cup in his right hand. "So what brought you here? You never come to parties."

"I asked jeno-"

Lucas spat out his drink, "Jeno!?" He looked behind you to jeno smiling and waving at him. "I think i drank too much cuz im seeing shit." He stared into his drink.

Jeno chuckled and took the other drink out of lucas' hand, "You aren't seeing things." He started drinking from the cup and Lucas frowned watching the younger. "She just wanted to come with me for some reason."

Lucas looked at you and you nodded back, "Then now that you're here, get drunk so we can play games."

"More fireball?" Jeno lifted the bottle up and Lucas nodded.

"More fireball."

You shouldn't have taken more than 2 shots of fireball. It was impossible for you to think straight, in fact, you found yourself sitting on jenos lap with him being equally as drunk, well, maybe not as bad but still pretty hammered. 

There were even times where you both would start flirting with no context. From someone else's point of view, it was probably funny, but to you and him, it was like you wanted to get into each others pants.

"Look," jeno lazily pointed over to the entrance where seulgi walked in with jaemin close behind. "I have a plan if you wanna do it."

"Hmm," you frowned at the two, jaemin was smiling at seulgi who was talking his ear off and giving him subtle flirtatious hints while she walked to the drink table, "Sure what is it?"

Smirking, jeno moved his hand lower on your waist, "Promise you won't kill me after this?"

"Depends on what you're gonna do."

Jeno reached to take a sip of beer, knowing that after this night he'd be throwing up from all the drinking, "Ill do it when he looks over."

A drunken pout sat on your face as you were so curious to know what he had in mind, but jeno still grinned at your behavior, rubbing up and down on your waist.

What shocked you the most was when jeno suddenly put his lips on yours. You've figured out by now that this was his plan so you didn't push him off.

Though you couldn't see it, jenos was staring into jaemins eyes as he smirked against your lips. It was like he beat jaemin at something and came up to the top for once. But you were too focused in making out with jeno to even notice the burning eyes in your back, watching as jeno gripped your hips and kissed you back hungrily like a devil. He tasted like alcohol and you couldn't say you were any sweeter, but maybe it was the intoxication that made you start to enjoy this moment a little more than you should’ve.

"W-what the hell...?" Jeno pulled back hesitantly looking behind you. Trying to look back, jeno took you by the face making you look at him, "Please only look at me."

"Whyyyy?" You leaned into his hand and jeno almost softened up but clenched his jaw in return.

"Drink some water." He changed the subject, handing you his bottle of water that he kept with him the entire time for whenever any of you needed it, and right now seemed like the time.

You swatted his hand away, almost spilling the water and started, "But I wanna look."

"Unless you want to see jaemin shoving his tongue down seulgis throat, I suggest you don’t."

"Hes what!??"

Jeno giggled like a little school girl probably from your furious face, "Its what you get, so don't even get mad when you do the same thing."

"But you’re the one who kissed me first, I only went along with it." Your growled and took a heavy chug from the water you pushed away. "I’m mad at you."

"Should’ve pushed me off."

"I figured you did it for a reason."

"Then don’t get mad."

"I- you- I'm gonna be mad!!"

Jeno rubbed his temples like you were the most infuriating thing known to man. He doesn't know how jaemin could put up with you and hes amazed how far he got with your antics. It was ticking him off but he didn't want to just drop you now, it was still somewhat fun.

"We should go dance." You looked towards the many groups of sweaty people grinding on each other, having a good time enjoying the party. You sighed, it would be fun you thought. 

Jeno perked up at your sudden mood change noticing how you weren't in the slightest mad anymore, now registering that you have mood swings when you're drunk or tipsy.

"I don’t dance."

"Don’t lie! You're literally a dancer, c’mon!" You got up off his lap and hoisted him up, bringing him to the dance floor. He placed his hands on your hips as you moved against him, just letting the music flow through you and let your body move on its own.

You didn’t actually care if jaemin saw you grinding on his best friend because right now, you were actually having fun. Maybe it was because you were wasted or maybe it was because of the excitement and happiness here that made you love it so much. Either way, you found joy just dancing with jeno.

"Isn't this fun?" You moved your head to smirk at him, but jeno seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Maybe if you weren't grinding on me, I'd say yes, but right now it's a hard no."

You knew what he meant and that’s why you pushed back a bit. Stopping when he gripped your hips in a way that hurt a bit.

"Stop it y/n." He whispered in your ear.

You whined and said, "Make me." Jeno stood back, not sure what to do right now. He may be a fuck boy but he has boundaries. Plus you’re drunk and don’t know what you’re saying.

"We should go home."

"But I wanna dance and have fun with you!!" You voice came out slurred and jeno automatically took another step back.

"Not gonna happen, you’re wasted." Grabbing your hand, he walked towards the front door so he could bring you home, but of course this would be the perfect time for jaemin to stop him.

"Whats wrong with her?" His voice was laced with concern seeing your current state; droopy eyes, and a way too happy smile.

"Shes drunk so I’m taking her back home." Jeno tried walking passed but jaemin stopped him again. If jeno wasn’t as drunk or tispy, jaemin probably would’ve let him bring you back, but jaemin couldn’t be so sure and wanted you safe. Plus, he may or may not be a bit mad at jeno.

"No stay, I can bring her back." Jaemin pushed, not because he wanted to show you discipline for the last few days, but because he was genuinely worried for your current state.

"What about seulgi?"

Jaemin looked back at the girl who was now talking with some of her friends, clearly not paying attention or taking notice of his disappearance. "She'll be fine." He brushed it off, "Lemme take y/n."

It took a few seconds for jeno to let go of your hand and stand back for jaemin to take you before you fell over. But he was so gentle with you, and because of that jeno was sure jaemin wouldn’t do anything bad to you.

"Be careful." Jeno said, jaemin nodded back and walked away with you slightly stumbling down the stairs just after he said that.

You started giggling at yourself while jaemin was actually struggling to keep you up. Somehow though, he made it to the car before you tripped and out your seat belt on before climbing in the drivers seat.

"Nana, where are we going?" You slurred.

Jaemin smiled at the little nickname you never used, "To my house if that’s fine with you."

"Your house is nice." Leaning against the window, you rested your head as you started zoning out.

Jaemin didn't mind though, he wanted you to get some rest, at least before he got to his house so he could put you to bed. But it wasn't like you'd sleep for long because the drive was only 5 minutes. 

When jaemin started carrying you out, that was when you started putting up a fight. Not only was jaemin try his best to not get angry, but he also tried to reason with himself when you started whining and pushing him away. Either sweet talk or show who's in charge.

"Y/n please cut it out, I’m just bringing you to my room." Jaemin groaned, struggling to keep you still in his arms.

"But I wanna walk."

"You can barely walk right now."

You didn’t care and continued moving around and kicking his arms away trying to get him to put you down, but just like you--he was stubborn and he carried you the whole way to his bed.

Softly putting you down, he went to grab some clothes for you. When he came back you already discarded your skirt and were about to take your bralette off until jaemin stopped you.

"What are you doing?" He pulled your hand away from the strap.

"I wanna play with you."

Jaemin shook his head at your sad face and pulled your body closer to his so he could start getting you changed, "Its almost 3am and you're drunk." but you whined once he rejected you.

“So what? Im still giving you my consent anyway.” You said, smiling at him as he took your top off, quickly putting a shirt on to cover you up. He wondered how you could wear such a tight top without feeling uncomfortable.

“You're not giving me full consent, y/n. I’m not gonna take advantage of you.” He stepped away after dressing you. Jaemin had only put a shirt on you and just left you in your underwear since it seemed the most comfortable. 

Jaemin changed too, only wearing sweatpants and no shirt because he was most comfortable that way himself, and crawled into bed with you. Somehow you found yourself already snuggled into his chest, breathing in his delicious cologne.

“Goodnight nana.” you mumbled into his chest.

“Goodnight princess,” jaemin hesitated for a second before speaking again, “nana loves you.”

You woke up to a painful headache and an empty bed. You knew where you were at least, but didn’t know how you got here. The last think you remembered was sitting with lucas, jeno and some other people playing a game of beer pong. That was probably when you got hammered, but why where you at jaemins house?

As much as you wanted to sit up and go find jaemin, your headache is what kept you in bed.

“Jaemin!!” You screamed, the sound of feet came running up the stairs.

“What is it? Are you okay? Do you need water? Medicine?” Question after question and jaemin seemed worried at your distressed state.

“Medicine and water would be nice actually.” You murmured and jaemin was already on his way to get what you needed.

Jaemin handed you two pills and a glass of ice water. You thanked him and took them, swallowing both the pills and the water at the same time.

“Do you need anything else?” His face still held concern and you almost wondered why he wasn’t mad at you like he had been for the past few days. Though you easily brushed it off as a sign that maybe he let you off the hook.

“No I’m good now.” You shook your head causing jaemin to sigh in relief and fall on the bed next to you. He gave you space, letting you cuddle and wrap yourself up in his blankets assuming that you were trying to find ways to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. And as much as he wanted to hold you, he was almost too scared to. It was funny really. Jaemin; the most out-going yet introverted person ever, was too scared to touch you right now.

Maybe it was his feelings getting the best of him or maybe he was too scared to finally fall in love with someone hes afraid of hurting in the end.

[nathanknowsitall]

Just That Good

Summary: Your best friend Tom Holland doesn’t know about your job as an online sex worker, but when you let it slip, he has a lot of questions.

Notes: This one is dedicated to all my fellow sex workers, online or irl! I love you all and I hope you’re staying safe! <3

“How’s work?”, Tom said casually, as he checked on the noodles he was boiling for lunch while you mindlessly were sitting at the table, scrolling through Twitter. 

“Fine, I just got a lot of personal requests today”, you mindlessly said. 

“For what?”, Tom said, confused, making realize what you just said. “Don’t you work for that magazine still?”, he asked curiously.

“Umm...”, you said trying to stall while you figured out how you were going to get out of this one. You had successfully kept your job as an online sex worker a secret for the past year with only a handful of slip ups in front of Tom. 

You knew that, logically, this was stupid. Tom was your best friend and you knew that he wouldn’t treat you any differently just because you didn’t have the most traditional job. He’d probably only get a little protective, but that’s just something Tom does anyways.

“Are you there, Y/N?”, Tom asked, concerned. 

“Oh...yeah”, you said as you figured out how you were going to get out of this. “I’m working on a self-help article”, you said, but Tom wasn’t buying it. 

While you tried to go back to looking on your phone, Tom was just staring at your back, trying to figure out why you were lying to him about your job. 

As he brought two plates of pasta with vegetables over, you could feel his stare on you. It made your heart speed up and your face go cold. 

You sat across from each other and it was rather awkward as you both started eating. There wasn’t the easy flowing conversation that you were both used to. Only sneaky glances at each other from across the table. You were already sick of it when Tom then decided to clear his throat.

“Do you need something?”, you asked as you stared him down.

“It’s just that I don’t believe that you work at a magazine”, he says, accusatory.

“Why don’t you?”, you said as you sat back, curious about his reasoning.

“Well, you never really seem to have a set time for work. For being an office job, I would think that a regularly scheduled shift would make sense. Plus, you seem to be able to take off a lot of time, for being an intern.”

“Uh huh.” You knew that you hadn’t covered your tracks well, but this was embarrassing. 

“Then, you also never seem to bring work home. You never complain about the work you do, which you are notorious for”, you rolled your eyes as he continued. 

“Finally, you never have any details about your job. Not a coworker’s name, no work events, no meetings, nothing at all. What magazine do you even work for?”, Tom said with suspicion. 

You were at a loss for words. He really had caught you. You bit your lip as you tried to wrack your brain for any magazine, any magazine at all, but came up empty. 

Tom felt bad about what he had said and took on a soft tone as he concluded, “I don’t know why you are lying to me about your job, but I just want to say that, whatever is going on, you can tell me. Even if you wanted to quit your job, I’d help pay for whatever you need. You can come live with me. If it’s too hard going to college and working, I completely understand. Just please tell me something.”

Right then, you knew you had no reason to worry about what you said next. 

“I’m a sex worker.” Tom’s eyes widened slightly as he looked you in the eyes, as if he was checking to see if you were serious or not, then his brain caught up with him. 

“What does that mean?”, he said very confused, as his head tilted slightly to the side. 

You burst out laughing because, for how scared you were, you were relieved to hear him say such a normal, Tom thing in response to what that had been in the back of your mind for months. 

“Well, sex workers are people who do any sexual activity in exchange for money, like selling nudes or doing porn or having sex with clients.”

“What do you do then?”, Tom said in such a boyish, curious tone that it took you by surprise. You had expected him to be nervous or angry or anything but calm and curious like he was now.

“I sell nudes and videos on Twitter and on a site called OnlyFans.” He nodded as he seemed to mull it over.

“I’ve heard of OnlyFans before...”, he confessed and you got a curious look in your eye, which he responded by following up with an awkward explanation. 

“I’ve never been on it, but I just thought it was for like...established people? In your industry? If you know what I mean? Are you like? Established? Famous?”, he said rapidly. 

You laughed a little at how Tom was so respectful but so nervous about talking about it. 

“No, I’m not ‘famous’, Mr. Movie Star”, you said as you rolled your eyes while Tom got embarrassed at the nickname. 

You continued, “I just started a year ago, but I’m doing pretty okay for myself. I can pay the bills, so no need for me to move in with you or anything drastic like that”, you said as you looked at Tom whose blush hadn’t gone away. “I’m still looking for another more ‘traditional’ job, but this has been working out okay for me so far, so don’t worry, okay?”, you said as you looked into Tom’s eyes, making eye contact with him for the first time since you told him. 

He looked less tense than before and more embarrassed than anything. It was obvious that he was going to ask more questions, but he still nodded all the same. 

“What are some things you do?”, he said curiously. 

“Well, I have to film and edit and post stuff mostly. Sometimes I have personal requests that I have to fill. I have to plan out different scenes and buy props for them and-”, you explained clinically. 

You were trying your best to be serious, but you felt yourself become embarrassed. Tom was your best friend, but also someone that you wanted to someday be more with. You had never really talked about sex like this with him. 

“What do you mean ‘buy props’?”, Tom said. When you made eye contact with him, you knew he was teasing, but you still answered him. 

“Like lingerie...”. Tom’s cheeks heated up again. “And toys...”. You leaned forward. “And whips...anything you can think of really”, you said as you stood up from your chair and made your way into Tom’s space. 

You don’t really know what came over you, but you straddled him and put your hands on his chest, just like you would if you were trying to seduce someone. 

“God...you must be good at it...”, Tom said under his breath. You grinned from ear to ear as you laid your head on top of his shoulder. 

“Do you like it?”, Tom said softly, with sincerity.

“I really do. I know that it seems really weird, but I like the process.”

“Like the...umm...you know? Mast-”, Tom tried. You pushed your head up to look at him as you answered.

“Yeah, yeah. I do...umm...play with myself on camera?”, you tried. Tom nodded stiffly, but his dilated pupils told a different story. 

“Are you getting horny?”, you asked Tom. You instantly felt your face heat up as you asked it, but you couldn’t help but ask. This was the closest you had ever been to making a move on Tom.

“Umm...yeah? Do you want me to stop?”, Tom asked awkwardly as he froze. 

As you looked into his brown eyes, you decided to make a move.

“Can I kiss-?”.

“Yes, darling”, he said before your lips met. It was pure neediness and passion that overwhelmed you as you kissed him. His lips were so soft and you melted.

After a few minutes, you both parted, panting as you recovered from the kiss.

“Did you mean that or are you just that good?”, Tom joked.

You rolled your eyes. “It may be good at faking, but I can’t fake how long I’ve been waiting for that. Also, I can’t fake how wet I am”, you teased as you rubbed yourself on Tom’s erection.

“Oh...you shouldn’t say that to me”, Tom teased, “I’ve dreamed about having you like this for so long...”.

“Then take me”, you demanded. Tom immediately stood up while holding you and took you to the bedroom while you both were in awe that this was happening.

[johnismyreason]

I have a request for a oneshot! Meeting tom in a bar, chatting, flirting, ending up at his place and having $ex🔥

It always takes me so much time to write something I’m sorry... Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy :) 

warnings: smutt, alcohol (kinda), praise kink, no foreplay, dom-ish!tom, and obviously the usual bad English 

The longest day ever. Ugh.

It was one of those days where you just think I just should’ve stayed in bed. Your alarm clock didn’t ring. You cracked your favourite pair of jeans right before heading out, making you running late even more. Your boss gave you yet another assignment in addition of you hundred of other ones. Stacy, your favourite co-worker, wasn’t here because she was on vacation with her boyfrie- fiancé now, wow she just texted you a selfie with her ring, and you remain single. Someone spilled their coffee on your shirt and didn’t even apologise. And finally hen you thought nothing bad can happen anymore, the rain was pouring. Of course you didn’t take your umbrella or a coat with a hood. Thank you London shitty weather. And of course, a car splashed the only puddle of water all over you. You wanted to cry, scream and burn everything down. You lift your head and read in bright red lighting the holy word “PUB”. Hallelujah. You didn’t even think about it, you just walked in.

The place was almost empty, which didn’t bother you at all, since you had enough interactions with humans for the day, maybe even for the week.

You sat at the bar, your coat drenched, your hair sticking to your face, your make up was gone and your mascara left black ink under your eyes. You were sticky and looked gross, but you couldn’t care less anymore. After three minutes with your head between your hands and elbows on the counter, the bartender bring you a shot of vodka.

“Wait,” you called him, “I didn’t order yet”

“Yeah, well, the guy over there got this for you” he replied, pointing at a curly hair young man sat on the banquette behind you, who, with a tight smile, waved shyly at you with just two fingers.

You looked at him with your tired eyes. Shit, he’s cute. He must has a weird obsession for desperate girls. You take the small glass and poured it down your throat.

“Thank you,” you told him a little louder than expected but you didn’t bother pretending you were sorry for three other customers. The young man got up and walked towards you, his bottle of beer in his hand.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, seating on the stool next to yours. “You looked like you needed it” he chuckled.

“T’was that obvious ?”

He chuckled again before replying “a bit.” and you smiled lightly too. He didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just looking at you. “I’m Tom by the way” he introduced himself and extended his hand to you.

You looked at his hand, a little surprised by his traditional behaviour, but took it anyways “Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N”. Another smile appeared on his thin lips . He was really cute. “So, what happened ? It seems like you had a rough day, don’t you ?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer. His jaw was sharp and his fingers were long and thin around the bottle.

“You wouldn’t want to know, it’s too long, and boring, and sad and... yeah, pathetic” you said, your head resting on your palm, staring at the counter.

“Well thank god we have all night, and you might think it’s an odd coincidence but, boring, sad and pathetic stories are my favourite.”

You thought about it. He’s a stranger in the creepiest pub in London, you don’t know nothing about him, and he doesn’t know nothing about you. You look a mess and weird, you’re drenched, why does he want to know about your day ?

“You like desperate girls, don’t you ?” you finally said.

“What ?” Tom replied, genuinely confused.

“Or maybe you’re the desperate one and is ready to pick the most rubbish looking girl, as long as you can have your release” you teased

“N-no, no ! I-I just... I saw you by the window getting splashed by the car, I felt so bad for you and I hoped you would come in so I can offer you a drink. I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ll leave-”

“Wait !” you stopped him from getting out of his stool, placing your hand on his forearm. Now you felt bad. He’s the first and only person today who didn’t annoy you in any kind of way. “Please, stay. It’s been a long day. A very long day” you sighed. Tom sat back on his stool with a tight smile. He ordered two other beers for him and you.

“Wanna talk about it ?” he gently proposed. You nodded and started your narrative. You gave all the details, from the sound of your ripped jeans, the tone of the unkind comment your coworker spat after pouring his coffee on you, to the very beautiful diamond your friend got when she got proposed to what seemed the perfect guy. Tom listened to everything, and kept his focus on your eyes, sometimes your lips, but just for a second. You finished your story after what felt like 10 hours of speaking.

“Wow... that was... a fucking shitty day” he chuckled bringing you warmth to your heart.

You chuckled “I’ll drink to that,” taking your beer and clinked it with his. You sighed dramatically and turned to him.

“What about yours ?”

“Mine ?” he said after taking a sip. “Well, it was way less interesting than yours” he laughed. “Um... I woke up. Got to the grocery store, worked out, watched TV, worked and got to this bar. And now I’m talking to a very pretty girl.” you blushed, not expecting him to say that.

“I bet she smells like flowers” you roasted yourself.

“More like a wet dog but that’s light” Tom teased and you hit him lightly on his arm. You both laughed lightly.

“We’re closing,” the bartender cut you.

“It’s only 9 o’clock...” you responded, your eyebrows frowned.

“We’re closing,” he repeated.

You looked at Tom, rolling your eyes “It’s because of my bad luck, I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be. This gives me the opportunity to ask you if you want to come to me place, have another drink.” he asked shyly, putting the money on the counter.

You looked at him awkwardly stuffing his hand in his jean pockets, waiting for your response. He’s really cute. Fuck it, let’s go. You bit your lip into a smile and nodded a yes. His eyes widened.

“Really ? Great ! Um, let’s go then,” he let you walk first towards the door but opened it for you. He told that his appartement is just a few minutes walking from here.

You followed him in the almost empty streets, talking about everything and mostly about him. He was nice and funny and it felt like you knew him for years. He led you to his building and then apartment which was gigantic next to yours. He took your coat and offered you to dry your hair  with his hairdryer while he sets everything to eat. You agreed and followed him in his bathroom. You came back in the kitchen where Tom was preparing dinner. There was a central counter illuminated by three industrial-style lamps. Tom had a folded tea towel on his shoulder and seemed very concentrated on cooking his dish.

“Pasta alla tomato,” he announced with a proud smile and his fingers pinched together, noticing you coming back from the bathroom.

“I’m not quite sure, that’s how Italians call it” you laughed standing next to him.

“Who cares ? It’s gonna be delicious,” he smirked. “Wanna taste ?” he asked with a low voice, his spoon ready to make you taste the tomato sauce. You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. You parted your lips and leaned towards him, welcoming the spoon in your mouth. You moaned at the taste and watched his pupils dilate for a split second.

“It is delicious,” you confirmed licking your lips. Tom watched your tongue dancing on your mouth and felt his heart beating fast. Suddenly, it was too hot in the room.

“We um... we should take some plates,” he tried to resonate him. He moved around you to grab two plates, forks and knives and placed it on the counter, in front of the chairs.

You kept talking about life and laughed at the strangest stories you two lived. You were having the best time. Tom was nice, funny and it felt like you knew each others for years. Everything since the bar was simple and comfortable. Also, he was really cute. You couldn’t take off your eyes of him. You admired the stain of curls falling on his forehead, and how his biceps contrat when he runs his hand through his hair to replace it. The little wrinkles around his eyes when he was smiling and the joyful burst of his voice as he laughs.

You also noticed a small stain of tomato sauce on his jaw, and without thinking about it, cutting Tom in his sentence, you swiped your thumb over it and brung it to your lips. Before you could reach your mouth, Tom stopped you, interlacing your hand with his fingers, pulling it to his face. He plunged his gaze into yours and wrapped his lips around your thumb. He licked softly your digit without breaking the eye contact. You stopped breathing, your heart pounding in your ears.

“That was mine,” he almost groaned. He then kissed delicately your other fingers while you starred at his lips and his face. He sometimes made eye contact with, making you loose your mind, before closing his eyes refocusing your fingers. He pulled gently on your wrist close to make you lean towards him. Your faces are a few inches away and the tension is so thick, the space between you is barely breathable.

“Y/N,” Tom whispered “please let me kiss you” he tilted his head waiting for your answer. Your breath was jerky, your pupils dilated and all your senses in turmoil. You leaned a little more, closing your eyes and nodded slowly.

Tom placed his other free hand on your cheek and closed the space between you. His lips were warm and rough at the same time, but his kisses were soft and caring. He wanted to make you feel good. The leaned position wasn’t the most comfortable though. So without breaking the kiss, Tom guided you up and sat you on his lap.

“Hm, much better” he said between kisses. You giggled and ran your hands through his soft curls. Tom navigated his lips down your neck and sucked on your hot skin. You tilted your head back giving him all the space he needed. Tom then traced his way down to your chest, his hands running up and down your back, waist and hips. You gently pulled on his curls to bring back his lips on your mouth, both whining and moaning.

“Tom, I need more... so much more” you desperately moaned out of breath. He didn’t say anything. He just got up, holding you around his chest and walked to his bedroom. After letting you falling gracefully on his bed he got up and took off his tight t-shirt. You discovered his muscular features, making you want to touch it.

“Give me your hands,” he nicely ordered. And you obeyed. He placed your palms on his pecs and slowly ran them all over his upper body. Your eyes stared frantically every inch of his skin, in awe of his features. Tom looked at your face with a slight smirk, admiring you.

“You like what see ?” that was so cocky yet so hot. You would gave laughed if it was anyone else, but there was something about him that was so hypnotising.

“I really do,” you whispered, still caressing him.

“Y/N, can I take off your clothes” he gently demanded, lingering his long fingers on your arms.

“Please,” you whimpered. Tom took the time to kiss you before pulling up your almost tired t-shirt and bra.

“Gorgeous,” he groaned and ran his warm hand on your breast. You moaned his name when you felt his lips around your nipples. “you’re so beautiful Y/N”. He pushed you against the mattress, stil sucking on your buds. He slid his hands down your body to take off your panties. “Can I take these off ?”

“Yes, you can” you answered desperately. He wasted no time and admired your glistening core.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you” Tom got up and grabbed a condom in his bathroom. When he came back he stumbled while taking off his boxers, making you giggle at his eagerness. He almost jumped on the bed and placed the condom on his very hard cock. You looked at him with wanting eyes, licking your lips.

“Do I need to work you out a little ?”

“No, no, don’t worry about that, you’ve done enough” you giggled and he responded the same way. “Please, I just need you...” you whimpered. Tom leaned on you to kiss you, and ever so smoothly entered you. You both moaned loudly.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel amazing” he stayed immobile for a little while so you can accommodate to him, until you moved your hips. He got the message and started thrusting gently but deeply.

Tom never stoped kissing you. On your lips, your cheeks, your neck... every bit on your skin that was reachable was showered by his lips. It was like a drug to him. You couldn’t get your hands off of his body, running them on his back, abs, chest and hair tugging a little on his curls. And each time your did that, he groaned and moaned. He made the prettiest sounds and you were loving it. Tom sped up his movements, holding close to him.

“Tom... umm you feel so good ! Gosh, please don’t stop”, you praised him and deepened his thrusts. They were more calculated, more passionate. Seeing him responding to your praises this way, made you want even more from him, so you continued.

“Um, yes just like that, oh fuck ! Tom, fuck you feel amazing !” he became animalistic in his thrusts and you felt your orgasm getting closer.

“You like this cock pretty girl ? um ?” he groaned in your ear “do you feel how perfect it is for you ? how it makes you loose yourself ? I feel you clenching baby...” his thrusts sped up even harder wanting you to release your pleasure “cum for me Y/N, I’m right behind you. God, fuck- your pussy feels so good, so tight !”

Your nails scratched his back, searching for something to hold onto, you arched your spine and let your orgasm took over you. Tom thrusted a few more times before he cums in you, moans and groans filling the air. He relaxed his body on top of yours, both you regaining your breath. Who knew, after spending the worst day ever, you would end up in a stranger’s bed. Tom eventually rolled on the side, giggling.

“What’s so funny ?” you asked a bit embarrassed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he reassured you, kissing you softly, “it was just... mind-blowing.” You felt your cheeks heat up against his palm.

“I know,” your confirmed. “Thank you for brighting up my day” you joked.

“Anytime, love !” Tom smiled before hesitantly asking you “actually, I was thinking, maybe we could go on a date, or something... I spent a really good time with you. I’m not only talking about the sex, huh, it was an amazing evening.”

You bit your lips and kissed him delicately “I would love that. I had a great time too”

[jayeray-hq]

Sakusa : You Know We’re Meant to Be

JayeRay’s fluff prompts

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: A little but of Hurt/Comfort and bullying but lots of Fluff after

If you like this, please check out the Character Masterlist!

This is part of a collaboration I’m doing with @lilolpotato​ some fluff to counter some of the hate from the Sakusa Hate Night thing that was going around 😊💖 Also a huge huge thank you to the amazingly talented @yuujiscurse​ for the banner! Their work is amazing! 😊💖

You weren’t sure if they simply didn’t know you could hear them whispering or if they simply didn’t care, as you stood waiting for your boyfriend to emerge from the locker rooms. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to wait long, Sakusa was usually the first out due to insisting on showering before the others of the team could infect the space with their germs. Still today you hoped he would hurry, even faster than usual, so you could leave the receptionist and the woman she was talking to, likely someone who worked in the building, far behind you.

“What does he even see in her?” the woman who’d greeted you almost every time you’d entered the building with a saccharine smile that was apparently hiding a mouthful of venom whispered to her blond coworker.

             “I certainly don’t see anything special,” the other woman, a pretty brunette agreed giving you a clear once over a blatantly dismissive look on her face, “She’s probably absolutely hideous behind that mask she wears all the time.”

             Your hands balled into fists in your jacket, as you tried to ignore them, reminding yourself that you wore the mask for a reason. It was for both your comfort, and your boyfriends. Sakusa’s germaphobia was a very real fear, and frankly you didn’t mind doing a few things to accommodate his fear, or make him feel more comfortable where you could, especially since you knew he would and had done the same for you before.

 Wearing a mask out in public was a simple thing, and frankly considering the pollution in Japan, not all that uncommon. The women were clearly being deliberately petty and you sank deeper into the jacket burrowing into it, and taking comfort in the familiar smell and feel of it. It was one of Sakusa’s old Itachiyama jackets, one he’d gifted to you when the two of you had first started dating.

 It was warm and comfortable, and a blatant reminder of how very much your boyfriend cared about you. After all very few people were allowed to touch his things, and even fewer were given gifts, especially sentimental gifts. Komori had teased the two of you for days when Sakusa had first given it to you, exclaiming every time he saw you wearing it that even he had never been allowed to touch Sakusa’s Itachiyama jackets and he was his cousin.

 It smelled like him, clean and crisp from the detergent he preferred to use for all of your clothing, one you’d become quite fond of yourself, and that you associated solely with him. It took your mind off the cruel women in front of you, at least for a little while.

 “Can you believe just the other day he dropped his towel on accident, I tried to hand it to him, and he gave me the most disgusted look and just walked away,” the brunette told the receptionist clearly deeply offended by the incident, “As if I were something dirty he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.”

 “I’ve tried to give him pens to use before,” the receptionist admitted equally huffy as she explained, “He won’t touch them, not until he disinfects them with a wipe first, and even then he’ll only hold them if he’s wearing gloves.”

 You sighed quietly to yourself, a part of you wanting to storm over there and defend your boyfriend and an equal part understanding, just a bit where they were coming from. Sakusa had a fear, one that was very real to him, even if it seemed silly to others, and he had extreme ways of reacting when forced to face that fear. Still even you could admit sometimes his inability to properly interpret social cues could leave him coming off cold, or even cruel even if he didn’t mean to be that way.

 “I bet she’s not even his girlfriend,” the spiteful brunette hissed, “Just an obsessed groupie who follows him around.”

 “He probably treats her like trash,” the receptionist added in a cruel enjoyment to her unkind speculations, “Which is really no less than she deserves honestly.”

 The women were clearly lashing out, and on the only target the had readily available, but that didn’t stop you from feeling hurt or furious on behalf of your boyfriend. How dare they insinuate he treated you badly? The idea was infuriating especially when you knew how very hard he tried for you.

 Sure, your relationship wasn’t all smooth sailing, but then what relationship was? Yes, you’d had to exercise a lot of patience as Sakusa slowly worked himself up to touching you, but it had been completely and utterly worth it. The feeling of being held in his arms, knowing he desperately wanted you to be there, so much so that he fought off his worst fears in order to do so was indescribable. You’d honestly never felt as loved as you did when your germophobic boyfriend reached his hand out to you, assuring you that he wanted to be able to touch you.

 Even several years in you still couldn’t cuddle without a thorough shower beforehand, and some aspects of physical intimacy, including public displays of affection were especially hard, but it was worth it. You were so proud, both of your boyfriend and how very far the two of you had come as a couple, and it infuriated you that these two women, who knew absolutely nothing of his struggles would dare to insinuate such awful things about him.

 Oh, you knew they probably didn’t actually believe them. You’d dealt with jealousy from other women before. Your boyfriend was undeniably incredibly good looking, stunning even, and for some reason a lot of people found his supposedly aloof and cold demeanor cool and enticing. He’d had fans for as long as you’d known him.

 Still it didn’t stop you from wanting to march right up to the women and force them to take it back. They could say what they wanted about you, but in no way shape or form would you allow them to badmouth your secretly dorky and completely socially inept boyfriend. Honestly one more word from them and you might’ve done just that, fortunately or unfortunately your furious thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of your boyfriend.

 “Hey,” the sound of his voice pulled you from your murderous thoughts and turned your attention to Sakusa who had emerged from the locker rooms at last. His hair was still a little damp from his shower, the dark curls not quite as springy as they usually were as they fell across his forehead, and he was fully zipped into his Black Jackals jacket, hands in his pockets the traditional mask covering half his face, “let’s get going before the others come out.”

  “Sure,” you agreed trying to keep your tone as upbeat and normal as possible ready to fall into step with him and head to the store, which was the whole reason you’d agreed to meet him at the Black Jackals usual practice gym in the first place.

 However it seemed you hadn’t done a very good job of concealing the lingering upset from overhearing the women’s gossip session. That or your boyfriend was getting better at reading you, though both honestly were possibilities. He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to come to a halt as well, his brows sitting heavily over his dark eyes as he peered at you intently, clear concern visible in them.

 “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice taking on the clipped edge that let you know he was deeply concerned. Apparently, you’d been more obvious than you’d thought.

 “Nothing,” you tried to assure him, forcing your tone to be upbeat, not wanting to drag him down, “Why would something be wrong?”

 “Don’t lie to me,” he ordered, the words blunt, but the clear care in his tone taking any sting out of them. Honestly he had very little in the way of tact at times like these, something you should probably be annoyed by, but could only find strangely endearing.

 “It really is nothing,” you assured him, your own tone softening at his clear concern for you, “Just overheard people gossiping about us again.”

 “Were you upset by them?” he asked hesitantly, clearly peering into your eyes, his whole body fidgeting with restless energy, a tension to him that reminded you of a rubber band stretched and ready to snap. For all that many read him as uncaring you knew that Sakusa was extremely protective of the few people he allowed close to him, and that you were one of the privileged few. He was clearly ready and willing to tear verbal strips off anyone who’d dared upset you.

 “Yes,” you told him, figuring honesty was probably the best policy at this point, “But only because they were saying untrue things about you, about how you treat me.”

 Some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed at that, and his eyes softened. You couldn’t see his mouth because of the mask, but long familiarity let you know the corners would be curling up in relief,. He clearly didn’t care a bit what people said about him, an attitude you wished rather desperately that you could emulate.

 “Let them say what they want,” he told you firmly, “It’s not something that bothers me, so don’t let it bother you.”

 “If only it were that easy,” you told him your own lips curling into a wry smile.

 Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled one of his hands from his jacket pockets and gently took hold of your face, the warmth of his shockingly bare fingers on your skin making your heart flip over in your chest  his thumb gently swiping across your cheekbone rendering you completely and utterly speechless.

 “The only opinions about my person that I care about are opinions from people who matter to me,” he told you sincerity dripping from very word, “And the only opinion I care about when it comes to our relationship is yours.”

 Your heart was beating a rapid tattoo against your ribs at his fervent declaration, especially since you knew he meant every word. Your boyfriend was nothing if not completely and utterly honest when it came to you, even brutal at times. He was never one who’d spare your feelings, which was how you knew moments like these were as raw and honest as it was possible to be.

 “I love you Kiyoomi,” you told him a little helplessly, the words falling out of your mouth before you’d had a chance to really think about them.

 “I love you too,” he responded without missing a beat, even if you could see the faintest of pink blushes decorating the tops of his cheekbones over the mask, “And I don’t like seeing you upset. What people say about me doesn’t bother me, so please don’t let it bother you.”

 “But wouldn’t you be upset if people were saying things about me?” you pointed out reasonably, well aware he would be, as he’d proven many times over in the past.

 He clearly couldn’t think of an argument to that and so instead remained silent, so you continued, “You mean so much to me Kiyoomi and it hurts to hear anyone might think poorly of you or insinuate cruel things about you and how you treat me that are blatantly untrue.”

 He watched you with soft eyes, his thumb still gently tracing your cheek as he explained, “So long as those things don’t cause you to doubt me I could care less.”

 “Never,” you assured him fervently, “I like to think that by now I know you pretty well Kiyoomi and I don’t think there’s anything ridiculous petty gossipers could to make me doubt you, to doubt us. Despite the fact that we’ve had our challenges I always felt like we fit well together. Like two pieces of a puzzle.”

 “I’m glad,” he admitted freely, “I’ve always hoped that you’d felt the way I do.”

 “The way you do?” you repeated curiously.

 “Like you know you’re meant to be,” he told you the words stealing the breath from your lungs and you were fairly sure you forgot how to breathe entirely as he leaned forward to press a gentle masked kiss to your forehead.

 Fortunately, or unfortunately you were pulled from your thoughts by raucous sounds from behind the two of you. It turned out you’d been so wrapped up in your conversation with your boyfriend you hadn’t noticed you were blocking the hallway and keeping the rest of the team as a captive audience of sorts. Apparently the private, intimate moment wasn’t nearly as private as you’d thought, and you were suddenly incredibly grateful the mask helped cover your cherry red cheeks.

 Apparently Bokuto was the one who’d interrupted your moment, too moved by it to stay quiet any longer, and now the former Fukurodani Ace was fervently congratulating your poor boyfriend about how smooth he was. Sakusa looked incredibly put upon as the team swept you up with them as they left the building in a small herd, all of them gently teasing or congratulating the two of you on how very cute your relationship was.

 In the midst of all the chaos your boyfriend managed to sneak his hand into yours, his fingers twining together to keep you close and connected to him. You accepted the gesture, feeling warm, and secure and completely and utterly loved, enough to shoot the poisonous receptionist and her bitter friend a blinding smile on your way out the door.

 Sakusa was right. Their opinions, especially on your relationship, shouldn’t matter to you, at the end of the day you knew he loved you and that was more than enough.

[storiesforallfandoms]

love you as you are ~ yungblud

word count: 1462

request?: yes!

“ Hi! How are you doing? If u are not too busy, could I request something with coworkers or friends to lovers - Dominic Harrison with insecure reader? (don’t mean to romantizice insecurities, reading things like that makes me feel less alone sometimes and I am pretty sure it happens to other ppl too) Stay safe, much love 🖤🖤”

description: in which his life long friend constantly compares herself to the girls he dates, and he’s finally starting to notice

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing, insecurities

masterlist

My worst bad habit was looking at pictures of Dom with his girlfriend’s and finding a flaw for myself in all of them.

That’s what I was doing when he called one day. New pictures had arisen of him and Ashley, although he insisted that they weren’t back together and probably would never get back together. They seemed cozy, and the smile on his face was so wide and bright, it was obvious he was happy with her. He always had been happy with her.

Her eyes were so pretty, her skin was flawless, she could pull off any hairstyle or color, her style was constantly on point, she...

My ringing phone brought me out of my daze. A picture of Dom smiling filled my screen along with his name. I couldn’t help but compare that smile with the one in the picture with Ashley. Was it as wide? Was he as happy?

“Hello?” I finally answered.

“(Y/N)!” Dom exclaimed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Just chilling at home.”

“Great! I’m coming over. Be there in five minutes!”

I was confused. The pictures I was looking at were supposedly recent, but he was here? Did that mean the pictures were fake? Or...was Ashley here?

Before I could ask any questions, Dom hung up. I paced the apartment, worried that Ashley would show up with Dom. I had nothing against Ashley, she was nice and I had been a fan since before she started dating Dom. I just...I couldn’t see her with Dom like that.

Before I knew it, Dom was letting himself into my place and making himself at home. He immediately laid down on the couch and looked up at, me catching mid-pace.

“Welcome,” I said sarcastically. “I didn’t know you were home.”

He gave me a weird look. “What do you mean? We’ve been texting all week. I told you we were gonna make plans soon.”

Oh yeah, that’s right. How did I forget that?

“Why didn’t you think I was home?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “I just saw some paparazzi pictures - ”

Dom cut me off with a groan. “Whatever it was, it’s bullshit. Paps are vultures and they’ll post any bullshit to get clicks.

I felt extremely stupid, but I was glad he didn’t seem upset or anything. As I sat down next to him, though, he asked, “What were the pictures of?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Do I tell him the truth? What would he think if I told him it was pictures of him and Ashley?

“Nothing,” I responded with a shrug.

Dom gave me another look. “Okay, it was obviously not nothing. You can tell me, (Y/N), I’ve probably read worse about myself.”

I sighed heavily, knowing Dom wasn’t just going to drop this. “It was pictures of you and Ash, and it was saying you two were back together again.”

Dom’s immediate reaction was a loud laugh, which caught me off guard at first, but I soon realized that his laugh meant that he and Ashley weren’t together, and he was right in saying that they probably never would be together at all.

“I haven’t seen Ash in months,” he admitted. “She’s off dating someone else now, if I was spotted out with her, it’s only as friends.”

For some reason, knowing that Dom was potentially still friends with Ashley put me back in my down mood. They were friends, but they used to date. He didn’t look at her the way he looked at me. I was a really just a friend, but she was his beautiful ex-girlfriend. He probably still loved her, I wouldn’t blame him, she was probably the best person in the world. She was so nice and kind and caring, she was so sweet to me. She...

“(Y/N),” Dom said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. He pulled me out of my trance and I looked at him, trying to pretend nothing had happened. “Where did you go then?”

“Nowhere,” I responded. “I guess I just zoned out, it happens. What were you saying?”

He was looking at me hard, almost studying my face. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You just...you seem off today.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “It’s nothing, can we drop it?”

We both went silent for a moment. I couldn’t handle it, there were so many thoughts running through my head that I needed a distraction. I turned on the TV and put on a random station that was playing some movie I had no interest in. I sat back and pretended to be invested in what was going on, but in reality, I was just trying to keep myself from thinking about Dom and Ashley.

I could feel Dom’s eyes on me. He was watching me intently, waiting for a crack. Dom knew me better than anyone had, and I knew that he knew when I was upset. I was hoping he’d leave it be and just bring up something for the two of us to do, but instead, when he did finally speak, he asked, “Is it because of me and Ash?”

I tried to hold back any signs that he was right, but I knew it was no use. I sighed again and looked down at my lap. “Not really...but kind of?”

Dom tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Ash?”

“Nothing, that’s the problem!” I responded. “She’s so perfect! God, I wish I had just a fraction of her perfection.”

I glanced up at Dom and saw that he was starting to understand. “You can’t compare yourself to Ash, (Y/N). You’re two different people, with different personalities and different...well everything. You can’t actually be comparing yourself to her.”

“I can’t help it,” I admitted, tears starting to prick my eyes. “You always date the most beautiful girls, both inside and out, and I can’t help but compare myself to them because...”

Dom moved closer to me, placing one of his hands on top of mine. I couldn’t get the words out. How do you admit to your best friend that you’ve had feelings for them for so long without weirding them out? Was it even possible to do that and maintain the friendship?

“(Y/N), you’re perfect as you are,” he said before I could finish my sentence. “You don’t have to compare yourself to anyone, let alone the girls I date. In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been around much longer than those girls, and there’s a reason for that. It’s because you’re a genuine person, and you care so much for me, and, this may be awkward, but I think you’re incredibly cute. I love you as you are, I’d hate to see you turn into someone you’re not.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his choice of wording. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what?”

“That you love me. It gives me false hope.”

Dom was confused a moment before he finally put two and two together. “What if I mean it in more than just a friendly way?”

I glared at him this time. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N)! What if I like you too? What if I always have? What would you say?”

I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Why would I? He’s never even given me a sign that he could potentially like me. Saying this now, especially with the conversation we were having, just felt like some sort of sick joke he was playing on me.

But, as I looked into those eyes that I had loved for so long, I could tell he was being genuine. Had he really liked me all this time?

Before I could say anything else, Dom pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “You’re perfect as you are, (Y/N). Who you are is what I love the most about you. Please don’t compare yourself to others, especially not to any of the girls I’ve dated.”

“You really mean that?”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Of course I do.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I really like you, Dom.”

“I like you, too, (Y/N).”

We fell back into a comfortable silence then. I wasn’t quite sure what this meant for us. We had both just admitted to having feelings for one another, so what comes next?

In that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was being in Dom’s arms, my ear pressed against his chest as I listened to his steady heartbeat. I was just happy to have him there with me, and to finally have that truth off my chest.

[notveryglittery]

absolutely smitten

summary: sometimes your coworkers are ridiculously in love but too dumb to make a move so obviously you've got to give them a push in the right direction. wc: 4,700 / ship: roman/patton (royality) content: human au, actor au. patton-centric. some crying, some kissing. mutual, oblivious pining. confessions of ~love~! background talyn, joan, remy, and thomas.  background brotherly moxiety, romantic analogical, and frenemies(?) moceit. janus is kind of an asshole (but that’s patton’s opinion dot vine).  author’s note: so, sometime in october 2019, i saw this post by @sirasanders  for the first time ever which was, frankly, a Crime. because it had been posted in february 2019 and the fact that i had gone that long without seeing/being tagged in a royality post? Illegal. anyway, i was struck with inspiration and began writing and sure it might have taken nine months but... here it is! i'm really proud of it! i hope you enjoy! 

many thanks to @rosesisupposes​ for beta reading!! <3 read on ao3!

— — —

Patton was not a morning person. Sure, he liked the idea of sunrises and consistent schedules and having time to make himself a big breakfast. All of that, however, required waking up. So to put it more accurately, Patton was not a waking up person.

Usually, all it took was a cup of coffee.

Thankfully, that part was never something Patton really had to worry about. The sweet, sweet bean elixir was delivered to him personally each morning sometime after arriving on set. Something he did worry about, though? Constantly? Nearly every hour of every day? Just what exactly he and the bringer-of-drinks were.

Like… yeah! He and Roman were… friends? They were coworkers for sure, without a doubt, and Patton liked that a lot! Working with Roman never failed to brighten even his darkest days. Patton could arrive on set in the lowest of moods and sometimes all it took was one warm smile from Roman to melt the icy feeling in his veins. Sometimes, it was the way Roman would slide up next to him at the catering table, moaning about how hungry he was, asking for Patton’s opinion on what he should treat himself to. Sometimes, Roman would take Patton’s hand and lead him to The Sanders Couch and Roman would sit and then he’d pull Patton down onto his lap and they’d just stay there for a bit, Roman combing his hand through Patton’s hair and singing quietly… If Patton was being honest, that was the easiest and quickest way Roman helped him to feel better.

Just friends, though! Right?

Roman remembering Patton’s usual go-to orders from Starbucks didn’t mean anything. He was just being courteous. Maybe it wasn’t even that; maybe it was just Roman wanting to make sure Patton would be at his peak during their scenes. Actors had such bad reputations after all and the last thing Patton wanted was to be a nightmare to deal with on set. He was grateful, really, of all Roman did to help him!

He just wished he wasn’t so confused.

“Patton! Good morning!”

Okay, time to put all those confusing feelings away.

Talyn’s bright grin and brighter hair never failed to impress Patton. Maybe one day he’d learn their secret to feeling this energetic so early in the morning but until then, he’d just have to keep wishing for the day coffee chains lowered their prices.

“Morning, Tal,” Patton responded, unable to help himself as he reached out and ruffled Talyn’s colorful locks.

They grumbled and swatted his hand away. “I’d be offended that you don’t seem to realize how much time this takes but I don’t think you even know what a hairbrush is.”

Patton pouted and reached up to tug on one of his curls. “I’m hurt.”

Talyn huffed, a sort-of laugh that reminded him of Virgil, and rolled their eyes. “I’ll be extra gentle with your makeup to make up for it, then.”

Before Patton could express appreciation for the play on words, Talyn was swept up and away in a blur of blue plaid and orange. He was pretty sure it’d been Joan, given how they were scarcely seen without their tell-tale flashy beanie.

While interacting with Talyn had helped Patton wake up a little bit, he was already feeling the heaviness of being up early weighing him down again. The reminder of the scene they were supposed to be filming today probably wasn’t doing him any good, either. Not only was it going to be a lot of crying, which was already exhausting on its own, he and Roman were supposed to kiss. Patton was supposed to kiss the possibly-maybe-wouldn’t-it-be-nice love of his life.

His cheeks went hot at the very idea and Patton all but slammed his face into his hands and screamed into his palms.

“Easy, buttercup, wouldn’t want you bruising, hm?”

Patton lowered his hands and glared at Janus over his fingertips.

“Oops,” Janus smirked and stepped back. “Didn’t realize you haven’t had your coffee yet.”

Patton frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “Is it that obvious?”

Somehow, in the time it took him to blink, Janus had moved, loping around Patton with a contemplative hum. One of these days, he’d learn how Janus managed to get around so fast.

“Look,” he said, draping an arm over Patton’s shoulders and pointing, “right there.”

One of these days, Patton would stop falling for Janus’s pranks.

Today was not that day and so when Patton directed his gaze towards where Janus was gesturing, he was provided the very startling sight of Roman coming in from outside. He was practically glowing in the sunlight, his hair was tousled from the wind as if he’d rolled out of bed but left it intentionally disheveled, and they’d just made eye contact and so Patton saw clear as crystal the way Roman’s smile curled up so easily and prettily.

Oh no, he was so pretty.

Patton ducked out of Janus’s hold and bolted away, towards his dressing room.

That… could have gone worse? Yeah, he could’ve tripped while running away and face planted and made work super difficult for Talyn and ruined the whole shoot today and everyone would be mad at him for wasting their time—

“Patton?”

By absolute sheer willpower, Patton didn’t scream.

“I’ve got your caramel macchiato.”

Patton was going to melt.

“Extra extra espresso.”

Scratch that, Patton was already melting.

“Thomas said it looked like you’d need it.”

Wait, what?

Patton opened the door to handsome Roman, considerate Roman, lovely Roman, and spoke before his brain could get any more mushy at the sight of handsome considerate lovely Roman. “Thomas hasn’t even seen me today?”

Roman held the reusable tumbler out for Patton to take. “Extra caramel, too.”

Patton took the offered drink and if it weren’t for the fact that this happened nearly every morning, he’d surely have dropped it the moment his and Roman’s fingertips brushed. Thankfully, he’d gotten used to it by now. Mostly, his heart reminded him when butterflies took flight in his stomach. Right, yeah, mostly. Anyway.

“I’ll see you in a bit, then,” Roman said and Patton was probably imagining the soft earnesty in his tone. He tried to dial down his high hopes.

“In a bit, then…” Patton managed, smiling sweetly, before stepping back and closing the door.

By some miracle, he didn’t sink immediately to the ground despite definitely feeling like a melted marshmallow. Instead, he drained half of his drink and then finally let himself scream.

In a bit turned out to be a couple of hours. It wasn’t anything Patton wasn’t familiar with but that didn’t make it any less agonizing. An indie film meant a smaller crew which meant Talyn could do the makeup on only one actor at a time. Fortunately, the scenes today weren’t very extensive which meant less folks to work on. Unfortunately, the scenes weren’t extensive because they were all plenty aware of how emotionally draining they’d be and had essentially planned for it. Crying came pretty easily to Patton so he wasn’t worried about that part. It was the after: the headache, the puffy red skin, the sore throat.

Talyn muttered as they worked, wondering why they were even bothering with makeup when it was all going to be ruined by the end of filming, anyway. In the reflection of the mirror Patton was sitting in front of, he could just barely see Roman getting his hair fixed. He was gesturing, no doubt telling a story of some sort; Remy had to keep pushing his hands back down anytime they got in the way. Patton was sure the hairdresser was scowling as he worked. If anyone was less a morning person than Patton, it was Remy.

“I love that smile as much as the next, Pat,” Talyn said, sighing, “but I don’t need it just yet. I can’t work when your eyes are all cute and crinkly.”

He murmured a quick apology and schooled his expression into one carefully blank. Talyn got back to applying his eye makeup. It didn’t take much longer before they were finished and Patton was sent on his way to get his hair done next. He and Roman passed by each other and Patton did his best to not swoon quite so obviously when Roman grinned at him. This part went by considerably quicker given that Patton could no longer see Roman in any reflections and that Remy had no patience for anything taking longer than absolutely necessary. He was finished before Talyn was with Roman which meant Patton could head off to see their director for any final adjustments or tips.

Thomas looked like he’d been through the wringer and the day had barely begun. Patton was frowning as he approached, wondering if anyone had told Thomas that his shirt was inside out.

“Morning, kiddo,” Patton greeted, coming to a stop beside him.

Thomas startled, nearly dropping the script he was holding. “Patton!”

“Oops,” Patton said sheepishly, “didn’t mean to spook you.”

Thomas waved the papers dismissively. “Nah, I oughta be better aware of my surroundings. Especially with someone like Janus around.”

Patton scowled. “Yeah, he got me this morning.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Thomas responded and Patton did not like how cheeky he looked all of a sudden. “That one seemed more like a treat than it did a trick.”

Patton really wished he didn’t blush so easily! He couldn’t even try and cover his face because then he’d risk messing up Talyn’s hard work. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway,” Patton interrupted loudly before Thomas could keep teasing him. “Has anything changed with filming today that I should worry about?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nah, we’re still all on the same page.” He hesitated. “Sorry that today’s gonna be so taxing on you guys.”

“I’m just hoping we can get it done in one take.”

“If you don’t, Talyn will have to fix you up again,” a new voice said, effortlessly joining their discussion.

“Speak of the Devil,” Thomas muttered.

“And he shall appear!” Patton finished for him before turning to Janus with a glare. “You know it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

Janus shrugged carelessly. “Joan’s looking for you,” he told Thomas, as if backstage and onstage weren’t small enough for Joan to find Thomas relatively easy on their own.

Still, Thomas shot Patton an apologetic look and went off to find his best friend.

In a near perfect match of their earlier interaction, Patton faced Janus with crossed arms and a frown. “Could you stop messing with me? I really don’t need it on top of everything else going on today.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to, dear Patton,” Janus said sweetly, all faux innocence.

Patton tried to not let it get to him. The two rarely got along, even on their good days, and Janus knew this, which meant he especially delighted in bothering Patton on his bad days. There really wasn’t any reason for them to be like this except that Janus had been why Patton nearly missed his audition for this film and he’d never apologized and Patton was still holding a grudge.

“Darling, is he bothering you?”

Before Patton could react to the question, an arm slid around his shoulders. The body he was pulled against was warm and firm and smelled of cinnamon and oh no.

Janus was smirking wickedly.

“Roman,” he all but purred. “I would never bother the object of your affections. I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

Patton.exe has stopped functioning.

The conversation continued, if Janus’s moving lips were anything to go by, but none of it processed for Patton. Roman’s what? Surely they weren’t talking about him? No, it was just Janus playing another one of his mean pranks. It had to be! Roman couldn’t like Patton back because if he did… well, if he did, that meant the kiss they were supposed to share on screen today wouldn’t be quite so one-sided and… and that would mean Patton’s feelings weren’t entirely unfounded… Roman did always bring him coffee. He was there for Patton’s low moods. His smile was sometimes so sincere and soft that Patton thought he might melt anytime he was on the receiving end of it.

Patton blinked and tilted his head up just a bit so he could get a better look at his knight in shining armor. Thinking back on it, Roman was often there to help save Patton from Janus’s crueler comments or jokes. He encouraged Patton through each scene, eyes bright and eager when the camera wasn’t pointed at him. He looked a little tense and Patton wondered if he was angry with what Janus had implied or… or if he was embarrassed to be called out on his feelings.

His gaze returned to Janus and he blinked again. Sound started to filter back in. Janus sneered at him.

“Back with us, then?”

“Alright, folks!” Thomas' voice rang out then, commanding attention. “Let’s get started! If we finish early today, I’m treating y’all to ice cream!”

A chorus of cheers followed as everyone moved to get where they needed to be.

Patton slipped out from Roman’s grasp and gave him a grin that he hoped wasn’t as shaky as it felt. In theory, Roman liking him back should have been a good thing. So why was Patton feeling so icky all of a sudden? Was it because, if it were true, Roman hadn’t been the one to confess? It was hardly fair of Janus to go around sharing other people’s secrets.

“Places!”

Patton snapped out of his daze to find Roman standing in front of him. He looked concerned.

“Hey, deep breaths, okay?” He took an exaggerated one to make a point and Patton found himself mirroring it. The slow exhale lightened the weight on his shoulders.

Patton nodded and Roman smiled at him. It was that sincere, soft smile that made Patton melt and, gosh darn it, hadn’t he already done enough of that this morning?

They hurried to their spots. The script was playing through Patton’s head, his lines and then Roman’s following lines, and Patton’s reactions to each line. He focused on the scene and the reason his character was upset and how it’d feel if he were experiencing it personally. One take. They’d get this finished in one take and then Patton could have ice cream and go back to his hotel room and take a nice long nap.

It was easy to forget everything that had happened earlier once he was onstage. Patton had no trouble getting into his roles most of the time; it certainly helped having someone like Roman opposite him. Roman was the best actor he’d ever had the pleasure of working with: self-assured and reliable and knowledgeable. The confidence he exuded was often contagious. The lights came on and out of the corner of his eye, Patton saw the red light flashing on the cameras. Roman winked at him and Patton only resisted giggling like a lovestruck teenager because Thomas had just called “action!”

It went as effortlessly as it usually did. Roman recited his lines with nary a mistake. Patton worked off of him easily, responses slipping from his tongue before the worries or fears of messing up could even try to take hold. The cast and the set around them faded away until it was just Patton and Roman - Patton’s character and Roman’s character - and this moment and this scene and these feelings. He could feel the tears spilling over, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed in his chest, his throat closing up with choked back sobs. Roman’s expression only aided in Patton’s despair; he never wanted to see Roman this miserable ever again.

It felt like a dream, the way Roman’s hand came up and cradled his cheek so gently and carefully. He wiped away a few of Patton’s tears with his thumb. He wasn’t sure which of them leaned in first, just that his eyes slid closed before Roman’s lips met his. Strangely, Patton’s first thought wasn’t incoherent screaming. It was that Roman tasted of peppermint. Then it was who knew kissing distracted so well from crying? Finally, eventually, it was incoherent screaming.

“And cut!”

They didn’t leap away from each other as if electrocuted, though Patton’s surprise at the reminder that they weren’t alone did shock him. Instead, they separated slowly, Roman’s hand drifting from Patton’s face to his shoulder.

“You’re… you’re a really good kisser, Roman.”

It wasn’t until Roman’s face went bright, bright red that Patton realized what he’d said.

“That was great, guys!” Thomas exclaimed, slinging his arms around them both and shattering the fragile space between them. “We’ll look over it real quick for any glaring mistakes but I think it went perfectly! We can fix the little things in post. I think you both deserve a break.”

“Thanks,” Patton squeaked, shooting up from where he sat. “Bye!”

For the second time that day, Patton bolted away and to his dressing room.

The door had barely slammed shut behind him before Patton was diving for the countertop he’d left his phone on. He was calling his second emergency contact and throwing himself into the pile of beanbags, cushions, and pillows in one corner of the room, all in one breath.

“Hey, Pat,” answered the low, rumbling voice of his brother.

Even if Patton had wanted to coherently explain what was going on, he couldn’t have. The words came tumbling out of his mouth without any sense and he kept cycling back to “kiss” and “Roman.” It didn’t help that he was half-sobbing, half-laughing, and all-panicking. At some point, he thought Virgil might have covered up his end of the receiver and spoke to someone else, but Patton was too flustered to be sure.

“Okay, bud, let’s take a minute to breathe.”

And so Virgil counted his younger sibling through several deep breaths, inhaling four and holding four and exhaling four. Once Patton had calmed down, Virgil asked him to repeat what he’d tried to say earlier.

“Oh. Ohh, right, that scene was today.”

“Virgil,” Patton said very seriously, pacing the room back and forth. “I… I think he likes me back.”

“Nooo,” Virgil responded and Patton frowned at his tone. “Really?”

“Why’d you say it like that!”

“Dude… Roman’s crush on you is as obvious as your crush on him.”

“His what?!”

“I’m sorry to say that you got all the gay disaster genes.”

“Tell that to your unsigned Valentine’s Day confession card to Logan.”

“Hey! We agreed to never mention that again!”

There was muffled speaking on Virgil’s end of the call and Virgil snorted. “Oh, that’ll be fun,” Patton heard him say in response. Before he could ask what would be fun, there was a knock at his door.

“Patton?”

By absolute sheer willpower, Patton didn’t scream.

“Answer it before I die of tension,” Virgil deadpanned.

Would it really be so bad if he did? After everything that had happened today, it really did seem like Roman might truly like him back… Sure, Patton wanted to bury himself into a hole and never leave out of embarrassment because of what he’d said after the kiss, but… It wasn’t like they were finished filming. Patton was going to see Roman again, whether he liked it or not.

“I’m hanging up now, okay?”

“Okay,” Patton whimpered. He was frozen a few moments longer, the phone still pressed to his ear.

“I can come back later,” Roman said, voice muffled. “Or not at all, if you’d prefer that. I don’t want to make you uncomf—”

Moving faster than he thought he was physically capable, Patton dropped his cell, and lurched across the room. He yanked the door open to handsome Roman, nervous Roman, sheepish Roman, and acted before his brain could get any more conflicted at the sight of handsome nervous sheepish Roman. “Please don’t leave.”

Roman went from worrying nervously at his lower lip to a small hopeful smile. He looked… strangely vulnerable. Patton wanted to protect him from everything bad, just as Roman had supported and kept him safe in the past.

“Hi.”

“Uhm… hi,” Patton replied. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped back and gestured for Roman to enter.

For the time they’d been working together, neither had been inside the other’s dressing room. Actually, Patton hadn’t gone by Roman’s at all; maybe his was the one with the star-sticker-decorated door. Roman caught sight of Patton’s Comfort Corner and sent him a curious glance.

“It’s better than a chair?” Patton answered with a half-shrug.

“It’s like The Sanders Couch,” Roman said agreeably.

“Did Thomas ever tell you the story behind it?”

“Which one?” Roman asked, laughing. “There’s so many. He has it sent with him to every filming location, you know. Apparently, it’s magic.”

Patton’s apprehension was falling away slowly but surely and he thought it amazing how even being near Roman had that effect on him.

“May I?”

Patton blinked, confused. Roman gestured to the corner.

“Oh! Yeah! Yes, of course.” Patton hurriedly responded, stumbling a little over his words.

“May…” Roman rubbed the back of his neck and Patton didn’t understand what he could possibly have to be bashful about before remembering oh, right, he likes me back. “May we?”

It felt like Patton’s whole body was submerged in scalding hot water. “O— okay,” he squeaked. Before he could melt on the spot like his jelly-wobbly legs wanted him to, Patton joined Roman in settling cozily amongst the beanbags, cushions, and pillows.

It was like second nature to them. Without even meaning to, Patton gravitated towards Roman, curling against his side as if it was right where he belonged. Roman’s hand was carding through Patton’s hair before they’d even fully got their legs positioned just right. In the time that Patton had made this dressing room his own, he’d added frequently to this pile, and he knew for a fact that there was room enough for two people to lounge on it without having to sit too close. As if he weren’t already in a tizzy, realizing how easy it was for him and Roman to be like this… Well, it was a miracle he hadn’t fainted already.

“So…” Roman began at the same moment Patton exclaimed, “I’m sorry!”

Naturally, Roman looked bewildered.

“I should have told you sooner,” Patton barreled on. He pointedly avoided looking up, instead keeping his gaze trained on his hands folded in his lap. “I was just… scared, I guess? Mostly of rejection… uhm, duh… But also of ruining this movie for you? I didn’t want to make filming difficult for… well, for anyone! And I didn’t want to risk doing that just because of my silly feelings.”

“Silly?” Roman echoed.

“And I know it’s not something I need to apologize for,” Patton continued in a rush, “but I’m still so sorry that Janus said what he said. A… about me being the, uh… your… Well, you know. He didn’t have any right doing that.”

Roman laughed, sounding a little incredulous. Patton wasn’t sure what part Roman had trouble believing. It was true, after all! The very idea of someone spilling Patton’s crush without his say-so was absolutely horrifying.

“If I’m being completely honest?” Roman began, shifting just enough that he could cradle Patton’s cheek in his hand and tilt his face up. “I don’t think I’d have had the courage to do it myself, anyway.”

He… He was being genuine, Patton realized with a start.

“You’re the most courageous person I know!” Patton argued.

“I am also terrified of rejection,” Roman amended.

“Now hold on, if I’m scared of rejection and you’re scared of rejection, then who’s flying the plane?”

Roman laughed so hard, Patton was jostled by it in his embrace. It was a sensation he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“Regrettably, I think that Janus is our pilot.”

Patton pouted. “Don’t like that.”

“We might owe him a thank you.”

“Don’t like that!” Patton repeated.

“Well, how about something that you do like?” Roman suggested, still holding him so carefully, still looking at him with such a sincere and soft smile. Still, there was just a hint of trepidation in his tone, the tiniest bit of unease in his eyes.

Patton realized awfully late that neither of them had actually, completely declared their feelings yet. He sat up in a hurry, placing a hand on Roman’s chest, and taking a deep breath. He thought it might give him at least a moment to sort his thoughts so that he could give Roman the confession he deserved. He thought wrong.

“You!” he practically shouted. “I like you! So much! It’s ridiculous! It’s exhilarating and scary and wonderful and well, I mean—” He stuttered to a halt, dissolving momentarily into breathless giggles. “You’re so considerate, do you know that? You care so much and you have so many little ways of showing it! And oh my god, you’re the best coworker I’ve ever had. You’re so full of passion and dedication, it’s an absolute joy to act alongside you and, and—” Again, Patton paused, but this time it was thanks to Roman’s slack-jawed awe. Raising both arms, Patton took Roman’s face in his hands and squished his cheeks a little. “And don’t even get me started on how handsome you are.”

In the time he’d known Roman, Patton had never seen him speechless. Patton was worried that he’d broken him. The seconds ticked by until, eventually, Roman made a sound akin to a tea kettle whistling. He slowly leaned in and down until Patton had to let go, instead opting to wrap his arms around Roman’s neck. With his face hidden now in Patton’s shoulder, it became clear how hard Roman was shaking.

“Was that too much?” Patton asked quietly.

Roman mumbled something but Patton couldn’t have understood it if he tried. Maybe he just needed a few minutes to collect himself. After some time, Roman did emerge, looking a bit more calm. Patton hardly had time to worry what this meant for him before Roman pulled Patton’s hands loose from where they’d been curled in the hair at the nape of his neck and held them gently in his own.

“I like you,” he started, oh-so-seriously. “I think I like you more than I like theatre?”

Patton gasped.

“Hush,” Roman teased, stifling a laugh. “I wake up some mornings and make it out of bed just because I know I’ll see you. It’s so easy to exist around you. I’ve never felt judged or hurt by you; you’re exceedingly kind and thoughtful. I cherish all of our moments, whether candid or staged. You’ve brought stability to my life in a way I never expected and I can’t tell you how important that is to me. Your grumpy pre-caffeine face cheers me up more than the sun in the sky does!”

“You hush,” Patton muttered, only able to fake offense for a few seconds.

“When Thomas takes us all out for ice cream, could we share a sundae?” Roman requested and he almost sounded shy about it. It made Patton’s heart flutter.

“There’s no one else I would want to banana split with,” Patton quipped.

Roman dropped Patton’s hands and groaned, planting his face into his palms. The last of the tension in the air vanished and Patton finally felt like he could breathe a little easier. He leaned back a little, trying to keep it together.

“Aw, come on, that was really just the cherry on top!”

Roman’s response might have been muffled but that didn’t hide the sound of his grin.

Patton shimmied and wiggled his way out of the Comfort Corner until he was back on his feet. “I hope you aren’t considering Taking Back Sun-dae,” Patton said, putting on his best pout.

“Oh my god,” Roman managed before he broke and fell into a fit of laughter.

Patton gave in too, though he was slightly distracted by the sight of Roman so carefree and happy. That was another thing he’d have to get used to, he supposed… Not that he minded. In fact, Patton decided as Roman eventually got up and pulled him into a tight, warm hug, he was really looking forward to it.

[obsidianfr3sk]

through the aching shell

Hello!!! After a practically two months without posting anything (not because I was feeling down or anything, school was just making me go crazy), I finally finished the thrid part of the shell series I’m writing with my mother and dear friend Dawn ( @honey-hippie-harper​), where we explore the angsty and depressing parts of Hugh and Simon’s relationship, because we’re crazy and we like to make it everyone’s problem. 

The last two parts (which you can find here and here, and should read in that order for you to understand this one) were from Simon’s POV, but this time I decided to take some creative liberties and write it from Hugh’s POV, since this is basically my own birthday present (yeah, people, I’m 18 years old now, I’m so grown up *emoji with cool glasses*) and I have a permit to do whatever I want (? so I decided to write about Adrian starting his criminal life (?), the Council fighting like my mental ilnesses do at 2AM, and how Georgie’s death affected her loved ones, but especially Hugh, since, like Dawn said, we firmly believe they were best friends and he didn’t grieve her in a healthy way:’) 

This ended up being... a lot longer than I expected (literally 67 word pages). And also a lot more depressing. I want to give a pretty important trigger warning for suicidal ideation, especially for the last scenes. Please, if you read, proceed with caution and take care of yourself. 

On other important news (?), I didn’t feel like killing people today, so I took this canon divergence post my moms did of how Callum and Winston survived the arena, and decided they were going to survive. I don’t think it’s super obvious because of how I wrote the scene, but I just wanted to let you know, so you can be happy with me about it. 

And what else? Well, I think that’s it:’) thank, Dawnie, for letting me continue this, I feel honored you let me form part of it skldhfjksdjhskd and I’m tagging @healing-winston-pratt and @the-wee-woo-girl in this, because I know you really like the shell series and want to know what happens next! Thanks to you too for your nice comments, I love you so much, my friends <3 and I hope you love this part too as much as I love writing it.

It wasn't until several minutes passed after he heard Simon going upstairs that Hugh realized he had been sitting on the ground during all this time.

He held onto the kitchen counter and stood up with difficulty. As soon as he saw his own hand, he noticed it had small silver drops all over it, and they reminded him of the coffee sometimes they accidentally spilled when they grabbed their respective cups before heading out of the house.

They also reminded him of blood.

In fact, they were awfully similar to blood.

He passed his sleeve over it to clean it. Not only did that refuse to work, but now he also had a gray stain on his uniform

Fuck.

But before he could come up with something to do about it, Simon started walking downstairs, slower and clumsier than before, while struggling with some heavy object. He stayed completely still for a couple of seconds, deliberating about what he was supposed to do.

Should he go to see what was going on?

Should he go help him?

Should he go and ask him to stay for the last time?

He was fast enough to turn his back on Simon when he showed up on the kitchen door hiding the trail of chrome he had left with his body

During the ten seconds Simon stayed there, staring at him, Hugh kept his eyes on his hands, flatly refusing to look back at him because if he did, he would meet her eyes too.

And he wasn't willing to go through that again in front of Simon.

In front of anyone, really.

He should have never allowed his emotions to come out in such a grotesque and explosive way. He thought he had learned to keep his anger, but the last time he had snapped like that was as recent as Genissa's Clark threat, after he couldn't stand how the rest of the Renegades were looking at the Council—

How they were looking at him.

It had been a slip. A pretty serious slip and that should not have happened again. Much less in the magnitude with which it had just happened a few moments ago, with Simon.

Simon.

Of all people, it had been Simon.

The man who irradiated the the most powerful beam of kindness without even saying a single word. The one who was able to talk people out of their evil ways because he was convinced goodness was a crucial part of human nature and no one was beyond repair. The person he thought about each time the fire of his anger started to emerge in his throat, and whose smile, eyes, and voice were enough for Hugh to be able to control him.

But today it hadn’t.

It hadn't been enough.

Simon hadn't been able to make it better.

The fire had gotten out of his control, and now, there was nothing left but ashes.

Ashes of anger that now was reduced to shame.

When Hugh turned around, Simon was closing the door on his way out.

***

He stayed leaning against the kitchen bar for a good four hours before he received the first message asking him where he was.

It was from Tamaya.

She said they needed to talk.

About what? She didn’t specify. But it was probably about how they left her alone for hours when it was supposed to be just during their lunch break.

While he texted her he would be there in a minute, he couldn’t help but look at his sleeves, and immediately knew, he couldn’t go there wearing those clothes, so he went through the small closet where they kept their clean superhero suits in case they needed to change after a mission or something. When he opened the closet and realized it was empty, he remembered Simon had taken them to the Headquarters, because he thought it was better to keep them there, since it was where they were most of the time.

Hugh clenched his fists and, before he could make a hole through the wall or something, he sighed and decided to take a shower first.

Tamaya would be fine if he disappeared a couple of hours more.

Maybe Tamaya could bring him one…

But Tamaya was in charge of the Headquarters, so she was pretty busy at the moment. Evander would take hours to get there and ask for explanations he didn’t want to give him, and… to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure if he was in the right state of mind to ask Kasumi to do him a favor.

“If Adrian wants to see me—”

Then, he remembered Adrian.

He was still at the hospital with Max. And if his mental clock was correct, he needed to be with his team in exactly an hour so they could start patrolling.

After showering, he put on some civilian clothes and grabbed the keys he had left on the entrance table.

Simon’s keys weren’t there though.

He had taken his own car.

***

Adrian wasn’t at the waiting room like he had said he would, but that didn’t surprise Hugh. No, what actually surprised him was how empty the whole hospital looked. No nurse was attending the front desk, and the few doctors he could see were either running to get to the next patient or whispering something to their coworkers. When he started wandering through the hospital, looking for a familiar face he recognized from the ones who were involved in Max’s case to ask them if he had seen Adrian (and if he could pay a quick visit to Max to kiss him goodnight because he probably wouldn’t be able to go to the hospital again before his bedtime), he noticed a group of nurses consoling a crying one a couple of meters from there.

He didn’t recognize her from anywhere, so he didn’t even bother to ask her anything.

Also… what the hell, he could pay a quick visit to Max without asking for their permission first. He was Captain Chromium, even if he wasn’t wearing his uniform at that moment, but most importantly, he was Max’s dad. He wasn’t going to stay there and wait for them to get their shit together and start doing their job.

After taking the elevator to get to the floor where Max’s room was, he noticed two doctors standing right beside the door, arguing in a low voice. They didn’t even realize Hugh was there until he was right in front of them, about to ask them if they could move to let him enter the room.

One of them interrupted what the other was saying and immediately tried to stop Hugh.

“I’m sorry, sir, you cannot be here, it’s a quarantine—” when she made contact with him, she and the other doctor’s expressions changed completely.

He had seen the same face a thousand times after people realized who they were talking to.

In other circumstances, he would have tried to be nice about it, but at that moment, he didn’t have any energy left to tell them about his intentions.

He needed to kiss Max goodnight. And then, he needed to look for Adrian.

So when he carefully pushed them aside and walked into the room, he didn’t feel any guilt for acting like that.

What he did feel, was his blood freezing the instant his eyes laid on Max’s bed and saw it was completely empty.

The small smile he had just put on his face to greet his kid immediately disappeared.

“Where—”

“Your sons have left this hospital, Mr. Everhart,” the doctor blurted out. “Together.”

But that wasn’t what Hugh was going to ask.

“Doctor— Where’s my husband?”

I need to see my husband.

***

According to what the doctors told him while they took him to one of their offices, Adrian and Max had escaped the hospital forty minutes before Hugh arrived. They knew it had been that way since one of the nurses saw them and tried to stop them, but they somehow made her faint for a couple of minutes, and when she was able to turn on the alarm, they were already gone. The doctors who were in Max’s room when he arrived were the ones who found the note Adrian had left, a note where he assured Max was fine, with his brother, and that the Renegades had nothing to worry about.

But Hugh was worried. He was so worried he couldn’t even yell at the staff for being so negligent and letting a teenager and a kid— two kids, go under their noses. He was so worried, that when Simon barged into the office, also wearing his civilian clothes, he didn’t run to hug him like he had been craving all that time he had to sit down and think about the horrible things that may be happening to his sons in those instants, while he heard the doctors doing their absolute best not to look like complete idiots in front of him and failing miserably; instead, he stayed quiet and let him ask all the questions he wanted to ask, doing his best not to look at him, not even out of the corner of his eye.

The last straw for him was when, by accident, the crying nurse (who apparently worked in the maternity ward) entered, and broke again as soon as she saw them, assuring them that she would never let them get to the roof if she had known their true intentions.

He heard roof and he heard intentions. And he immediately came to the realization, that even though the doctors had told him the whole staff was looking for them everywhere, no one told him if they had already looked for them...

If they had already looked for them outside the building.

After murmuring some words to the nurse, Simon got out of there, running like a crazy man through the hospital, being followed by the two doctors, trying to stop him, so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the other patients.

And Hugh, who immediately felt uncomfortable as soon as they left him alone with the sobbing woman, stood up and followed the sounds of the doctors' pleas.

He knew where Simon was going.

When he got there, Simon was leaning over the roof, while the doctors stayed under the door frame, with mortified faces.

Seconds later (which felt like hours), he stumbled back from the edge of the roof and sat down on the floor, sighing with relief.

It was more than enough for him to feel able to breathe normally again.

“Mr. Everhart—” the doctor said. “I think you should call your son.”

He agreed and let him know with a nod of his head. Then, he asked something about if they wanted to go to the office again, but Simon answered before him and told the doctor it was fine. Then, his co-worker grabbed him by the arm and told them they were going to give them their space. That time, none of them answered her. So they left without saying anything else.

It wasn’t like it mattered to him anyway. At that moment, the only one he wanted to hear was Simon’s voice.

Simon’s voice yelling at him. Crying. Cursing. It didn’t matter in what tone he was talking as long as he was able to hear him say his name.

Say something.

Anything.

Simon kept his head low but pointed at Hugh’s bracelet.

Call Adrian.

The bracelet rang on the other side of the line, and the more it did, and the more silent Simon stayed, the more Hugh’s worry started to vanish.

The wind took away the ashes of his anger, and let the fire start again.

As soon as Adrian picked up, he put him on speaker.

But he didn’t let him talk.

“Where is he?” he barked through the phone. “Adrian, what have you done?”

Simon slowly stood up, stumbling a little, and Adrian clicked his tongue. “So… you got the note?”

Oh, my—

“Yes, we got the note!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Max?”

“He’s somewhere safe,” Adrian responded immediately. “Trust me.”

He almost snorted. “Trust you? What does that even—”

Suddenly, Simon grabbed him by the arm and brought the bracelet closer to his face. “Adrian, we do trust you.” And he quickly added: “And we trust Max.”

Trust.

“But this is serious,” Simon continued. “We need to know where he is. You of all people should understand how dangerous it is for him to be alone out in the world.”

“He is not alone,” Adrian argued. “No other prodigies will be at risk, and he’s comfortable and secure, maybe even happy, which is more than we could ever say about putting him back in that quarantine.”

Simon opened his mouth but he couldn’t find any words to say. His grip started to get loose little by little until he let him go completely.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon’s hands.

He wanted to hold them so bad.

“How did you even manage to get him out of the hospital?” Hugh asked Adrian. “Did you find the Vitality Charm?”

“No, Dad. But I— I borrowed one of the hazmat suits from HQ and put Max into it,” he explained. “The barrier protected me from his powers long enough to get him to where we needed to go.”

That was enough for Simon to come back to reality. Just that this time, he just got closer to the bracelet; he didn’t touch him at all. “A hazmat suit? And no one noticed a ten-year-old kid wandering down the corridors in a hazmat suit?” just after saying that sentence, he subtly gasped and groaned. “Invisibility. Right. You know, I forget that he has that one, too.”

For a second, Hugh thought he was talking to him. But when Adrian answered, he knew Simon was not. “You did give it to him, so technically, it’s kind of like you helped him escape.”

“Don’t get smart,” he snapped. “And he didn’t need to escape. He’s not a prisoner!”

“Wasn’t he?”

He didn’t wait for them to answer him. It was a rhetorical question.

Not like Hugh knew how he would answer that question.

“Look, I know you guys love him,” Adrian continued, “but I’m not letting you put him back in that quarantine, end of story. For now, he’s safe where he is until we find a more permanent solution.”

Simon turned away, covering his mouth with his hand, and looking at the sky.

Adrian— Adrian didn’t sound like his usual self.  In fact, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the way his son was behaving reminded him a lot of a younger Adrian, who was just a little bit older than Max, entering into what would soon become his teen years, and liked to think all his parents did was making his life a living hell. Like when he asked Hugh to let him go to that Renegades Camp that was supposed to be only for the kids who were living in orphanages funded by the Council, or when he wanted Simon to get him a couple of new sneakers; in both situations, he received no for an answer, and proceeded to make a huge deal out of it, asking them why were they always trying to isolate him from other kids, or if they were poor again and would have to share a piece of bread between the three of them, like when they lived at Simon’s house.

Both of those situations were tantrums that Hugh could let slide. He let Adrian go to the camp that year (after a lot of consideration) and bought him the sneakers he wanted as his birthday present, even getting a little mad at Simon for not getting them when Adrian asked him to since it wasn’t like they didn’t have the money or something.

Even he could understand those situations were… things all kids went through at that age. It was a phase that Adrian outgrew.  

But that— that was not a phase.

That was not even a tantrum.

It was reckless and stupid, and dangerous.

And he was putting Max in danger. He was making Simon as worried as he had never seen him worried before.

And it was something Hugh could not let slide.

Not this time.

“No, Adrian,” Hugh said, “you are going to tell us where he is right this minute, so we can get him back to the hospital and make sure—”

But Adrian knew how to play that game too.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he interrupted. “For now, I’m late for a team meeting. Okay, guys? Love you, bye!”

And he hanged up.

And he didn't give them a chance to tell him they love him too.

But even if he had, Hugh knew he wouldn't say it back.

Just like that morning when they visited Nova at Cragmoor.

Before Hugh could even move, Simon left the roof, leaving him alone with those words echoing inside his head.

Trust me.

Hugh remembered he had trusted her. And, in a way, she had trusted him too.

And that was when everything started going downhill.

***

There was nothing Hugh could do at the hospital anymore. He encountered the doctors that had been informing them about the whole situation, and when he started telling them everything was fine and that they were able to locate their kids, they told them Mr. Westwood had already been there and notified them. They also promised everyone in the hospital was going to keep Max’s condition a secret and assure him no information was going to be leaked to the media to keep him safe. Hugh thanked them, but honestly, it was the least they could do.

When he went to the hospital’s parking lot, he looked for Simon’s car. Since he didn’t find it, he assumed he had gone to Kasumi’s house.

Hugh was going to return to Headquarters. To distract himself.

He entered through one of the back doors, so no one from the patrol units or the janitorial team saw him in his civilian clothes. He was lucky not to walk into someone while going through the corridors, but he didn’t feel safe until he entered his office and closed the door behind him.

And that feeling lasted… five seconds.

Because when he turned on the lights, Tamaya was sitting on top of his desk, with her legs crossed and drumming her fingers against the dark wood.

“Shit, Tamaya, why are you in my office?” he asked her with a hand on his chest.

She didn’t seem a little ashamed when she heard him scream. She didn’t even flinch.

“Shit, Hugh, why are you not in your office?” she asked him back.

She knew he didn’t like when people copied his exact words.

“Get off my desk,” he ordered her while walking towards it and sitting in his swivel leather chair. “You look super creepy waiting for me in the dark. Next time send a text”

Tamaya acted like she didn’t hear him. “I did,” she growled. “I did and you told me you were going to be here in a matter of minutes. What the hell happened there? What the hell was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

Hugh opened one of the drawers (the bigger one) and found his uniform inside a plastic bag. It had a purple sticky note, and in permanent black sharpie, Simon had written his name with his wonderful, horrible calligraphy and drawn small hearts around it.

Hugh turned it into a small ball and threw it in the trash.

“Evander was here,” he reminded her as if she didn’t already know it. “I didn’t leave you hanging.”

“Evander doesn’t count. He’s asleep right now, actually.”

In Headquarters, they had a couple of rooms filled with beds, in case the patrol units needed to rest after a particularly long shift or wanted to take a nap before patrolling. For some reason, Evander liked to rest there, and if no one else was there, he even locked the door so no one was able to come in. Hugh thought it was very selfish of him to do that, but Evander assured him it was actually pretty comfortable (as if that was the problem he had with it) and Simon always told Hugh to let it go since it was something Evander only did after he finished his shift or was about to be up all night, just like the patrol units.

But he wasn’t going to let it go now. He decided that after putting on his uniform, he was going to kick the door down, grab him by the ankles, and throw him out of the bed.

Hugh closed the drawer. “Hey, I’m going to change my clothes, so—”

His lips sealed just as Tamaya put a hand on his shoulder.

Not like “I’m with you”.

More like…

“Move and I’m going to kick your ass.”

Hugh didn’t want to get his ass kicked that day.

“Answer. My. Question.” And she said it again. “What the fuck was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

He tried to think of an excuse not to tell Tamaya the truth.

But, honestly, there wasn’t one. She was going to know all about it sooner or later.

“Max disappeared from the hospital.”

Tamaya let go of his shoulder and gasped. “What?—”

“Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “he’s fine, Adrian took him. Can I change now?” She sighed and then, she nodded. “Thanks. Hold the fort.”

Tamaya walked to the door and locked it, just to make sure no one was going to enter and see Captain Chromium, their boss, just wearing his underwear and trying to get into those tight leggings everyone had told him looked ridiculous since the moment he turned them into a crucial part of his superhero gear (and personality), but he kept wearing and will keep wearing until the day he died.

Hugh was going to hold on to that small piece of dignity he had left as if his life depended on it, because, maybe, just maybe, it kind of did.

So… one way to do it, was to make sure no one entered while he changed his clothes.

Tamaya could stay though. It would be stupid to put on an act of false modesty when Tamaya had seen all of them naked at some point in their lifes. However, the main difference between her and Evander, who had also seen everyone naked, was that Tamaya just remained quiet and closed the door almost as soon as she had opened it, while Evander started screaming so loud, that if they had had neighbors, they would have heard him say he had seen boobies (or a pee-pee, depending on the case) (he also hated the word pee pee thanks to that.)

Tamaya, respectful as she was, kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. “So that’s why you were dressed up like that,” she mumbled. “I wouldn't change my clothes if my son went missing, either.”

That hadn’t exactly been the line of events, but what Tamaya didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “How dare you. I have an incredibly good sense of fashion.”

Hugh was wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie, and ratty jeans.

In his defense, he hadn't done laundry that week.

That wasn’t a great defense, but still.

“Yeah, sure,” she scoffed. “When you entered, I thought you were an intruder and was about to get all defensive and shit.”

“Well, you’re not the only one—” he put his civilian clothes in the plastic bag “—When I went to the hospital, no one really recognized me at first either.”

Tamaya slightly smiled and then crossed her arms against her chest. “What do you mean Adrian took him?” she asked.

He stopped what he was doing for a couple of seconds. “I mean that,” he finally said. “He took him. Adrian got Max out of the hospital, took him somewhere else, and refused to tell us where he is.”

“And where’s Adrian now?”

“Patrolling with his team.”

Patrolling with his team.

As if he hadn’t kidnapped his brother and put in danger dozens of prodigies in the process.

As if he hadn’t worried them as if he had done before, because apparently, he was still too young and immature to comprehend that Max’s situation was something neither of them wished for, but at the same time, was a lot more complicated than he thought it was.

As if nothing had happened.

Tamaya stayed in complete silence until he sat down and remembered, he didn’t bring the boots that he wore with the superhero suit.

Great.

Those shoes didn’t even match the leggings.

“And what did you tell him?”

“Nothing. He didn’t give me the chance.”

Maybe if he stayed behind his desk until he finished his responsibilities of the day, no one would notice. And he could always exit through the backdoor.

“That kid. He wasn’t like that— Adrian had never done something like this before. I’m— I’m honestly shocked by his behavior.”

“You tell me.”

But he didn’t want to. Yet. He didn’t want to go to his house.

Not like that.

Not alone.

“What are you going to tell Adrian?”

And Adrian.

Alone, and with Adrian.

“What am I going to tell him?”

Tamaya nodded, and a wave of possible answers flooded his head.

Adrian, you’re in big trouble.

Adrian, you’re grounded for the rest of your life.

Adrian, please tell me where Max is, I’m begging you.

Adrian, grow up.

Adrian, your dad is not coming back for a very long time.

Adrian.

Adrian.

Your mom—

“Nothing.”

Because there is nothing that could be said.

Tamaya raised her eyebrows. “Nothing?” she doubtfully asked.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t say nothing to him,” she objected, incredulous. “That’s just not healthy.”

Hugh pretended he was going through the pages of a document someone had left for him on his desk. As if he could read those tiny letters without his glasses.

As if he couldn’t go years without talking to people.

Or about them.

“Hugh. Hugh, are you lis—”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Huh?”

When he realized he was rolling his eyes, it was too late to stop. He just kept talking and hoped Tamaya didn’t gouge them out. “You told me before you needed to talk to me,” he explained.

“No, I said we needed to talk,” she corrected him pointing at him with a finger. She was wearing black nail polish.

You see? You remember perfectly.

“Well, in case you were wondering—” he opened the document and started reading it “—I’m listening. What’s the situation?”

Tamaya didn’t have time to react to his words. If she was going to scream, start talking about what she (she, because Hugh didn’t want to), or genuinely gouge his eyes out, no one, probably not even Tamaya herself, would ever know.

A loud banging, stifled voices, and a very familiar yell interrupted them all of the sudden.

“DAD!”

Hugh grasped tightly the pages of the document, while Tamaya grunted loudly and opened the door, her wings extended and bristly.

“WHAT?!”

The loud banging and stifled voices went silent. But the familiar yell didn’t fear Tamaya.

Because he was that reckless.

“Dad.”

Tamaya’s wings relaxed and she moved aside, letting Hugh see Adrian, still in his Renegade uniform, a little bit sweaty and dirty, like every time he came back from patrol. His team was sweaty and dirty too, but none of them had the same expression Adrian’s face had.

He seemed weird. Different.

He would dare to say he looked hopeful.

And the moments where they just stayed staring at each other, probably waiting for the other to make the first move, Hugh couldn’t figure out the reason why.  

***

Innocent.

She was innocent.

According to the Renegades, Nova Jean McLain was innocent.

They came to that resolution an hour and a half later.

When Adrian first told him Nova was innocent, he couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but Tamaya took control of the situation and immediately told Hugh to wake Evander up at the same time she told Adrian’s team to follow her.

Hugh didn’t kick the door down, but he did grab him by the ankles and made him wake up screaming.

Evander walked beside him, wearing a Blacklight t-shirt people sold at Cosmopolis Park and asking him questions about what was going on, but Hugh insisted he waited until the rest of them arrived because it was a delicate situation.

Extremely delicate.

So delicate, Hugh thought it would break like a roof made of glass and the sharp pieces would rain all over their heads, cutting their bodies like a piece of rotten fruit.

At the meeting room, Tamaya was talking to Kasumi over the phone they kept there in case of an emergency, and Adrian was gathered with his team. He was the only one who had bothered to pretend that he wasn’t worried at all because Oscar Silva and Ruby Tucker couldn’t stop throwing glances at each other, and Danna Bell shook her head every once in a while, saying something that sounded like “You’re making a mistake. You all are making a mistake.”

Oddly enough, he hoped she was right. He hoped Adrian and everyone who believed him was just making a mistake, so things wouldn’t get more complicated than they already were.

That was not going to look good for them.

Kasumi and Simon arrived ten minutes after Tamaya hung up the phone. Neither of them were wearing their uniforms or bothering to look at Hugh. Actually, Kasumi walked directly towards Tamaya to apparently ask her something (and Evander followed her because he was Evander), while Simon immediately went over Adrian, turned around the spinning chair he was sitting on, and hugged him, without caring a single bit about embarrassing in front of his team.

Adrian hugged him back. But then, he pulled him away to tell him he knew for a fact Nightmare was not Nova, but instead, Narcissa Cronin, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter.

Simon remained calm, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him that was a pretty serious accusation.

“But tell us all about it.”

And Adrian did. He and his team told them all about it.

Mostly him though.

He told them about them encountering Narcissa Cronin and that she explained her evil plans to them, in extreme detail. She planted evidence to make Nova seem guilty because, after the parade, she wanted to get the Renegades off her back, and Nova was the perfect person to incriminate for her crimes. She considered it her revenge against the Renegades for not doing anything when Ingrid Thompson shot the only family she had left, but after hearing a rumor of her execution, she realized she didn’t want Nova to die in the hands of the Renegades.

Not because she cared about her. She just had principles.

Or those were the words Adrian used, that made him question himself if he wanted to see her dead.

Because even when he gave Frostbite— or, Genissa Clark, permission to be the one to execute her, he still didn’t know if he did because he was sure it was the right thing…

Or because he was scared.

Which still— didn’t answer his question.  

Do you really want to see Nova McLain dead?

He wasn’t sure about it.

Tamaya, on the other hand, was.

She didn’t want to see Nova McLain dead.

And apparently, neither did Kasumi and Simon, because as soon as Adrian finished telling his side of the story, they immediately started talking about removing all charges that had been filed against her to get her out of Cragmoor as soon as possible. Evander tried to interrupt them and insisted that maybe they needed to hear the rest of the team (who had barely spoken through the entire conversation), as well as to go to the scene to look for clues. Danna Bell agreed with him and tried to take the word, but Tamaya stated they didn’t need to hear anything else, because the more they stayed there, listening, the more time an innocent girl stayed in prison. When Evander tried to argue again, Tamaya looked at Hugh, silently asking him to support her.

The five members of the Council knew the glass roof they had been standing under for God knows how much time, had shattered completely.  

The least Hugh could do was use his entire body to try to protect them from it.

So he agreed with Tamaya, and said, out loud, that Nova McLain was free of all charges.

Tucker and Silva smiled as soon as they heard him say that, and Bell just sighed. Adrian let out a “Yes!” under his breath and turned around to say, “Thank you.”

Evander just rolled his eyes and started playing with a pencil he found there, but Tamaya and Kasumi smiled at him, and Simon said, “No, Adrian, thank you.”

Before leaving the room with the rest of his team, Adrian cast a glance at Hugh.

But Hugh pretended he didn’t realize until Danna Bell told Adrian to keep going and he obeyed.

***

The Council stayed in the meeting room for a little while, to put all the cards on the table and make sure they understood each of the steps they had to take to get Nova McLain out of Cragmoor. Evander and Hugh were the only ones who didn’t participate in the conversation at all, but while Evander was doing it because he knew anything he had to say was going to be completely ignored and was mad about it, Hugh didn’t do it because he couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon.

Even if Simon wasn’t looking at him at all.

He talked with his hands. A lot. When they were teens, he remembered Simon constantly kept his hands in his pockets, especially when they were in public, so he wouldn’t draw any kind of attention to himself, and only dared to do it when he was at his house or very excited or sad about something. But now that he was an adult, he gesticulated even more, even during the most serious of conversations, with no shame at all. Hugh always had thought it was an adorable quirk of his, and being able to see him grow and embrace that part of himself (and get emotional when Kasumi pointed out Adrian was starting to talk with his hands too) felt like something very personal to him.

Every single thing that had to do with Simon felt so personal to him.

He wasn’t his other half. Hugh had once said that to him, and Simon confessed he found that “compliment” pretty problematic, and he couldn’t help but agree to him.  

Simon was more than that. It was something so much more important, so much, that the way he scratched his beard, raised his eyebrows, and looked at the ceiling to try to remember the word he wanted to say, made him realize how much he missed him already.

He missed him already; and he was right there, inches away from him.

Home.

Simon was his home.

And his house wouldn’t feel like it if he arrived there without him.

So when Tamaya dismissed all of them, he decided to make something about it.

That night, he would go back to his house with Simon— or he was not going back at all.

Adrian was leaning against the wall, waiting for them while playing with his keys. His team was nowhere to be seen, which was completely understandable considering how late  it was. As soon as he saw them walking through the door, he started to walk towards them, almost ignoring how Evander accidentally pushed him while trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

Then, he asked, “Are we going home now?”

And even if he was looking at Hugh when he said that, Hugh, instead of answering him, turned to see Simon. Not only because he knew that if he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it would be… something not very nice about what he thought about Adrian’s behavior over the last hours; but also because, at that point, it all depended on what Simon had to say about it.

Even if he didn’t know it.

Simon.

Are we going home now, Simon?

But instead of answering the question, Simon smiled at him, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him, “I think Tamaya’s going to drop you at the house. You could do that, right?”

Tamaya and Kasumi were standing behind them. “Yeah, of course, I can.”

“Are you going to carry me in your arms and take me for a flight?”

“Funny. What about if you carry me, huh?”

“I can.”

“I cannot allow it though. It wouldn’t be very feminist of me.” Adrian laughed at her joke, and she pretended to act all cocky about it, brushing off her shoulders and trying not to smile. “Let’s go. Kasumi—”

“It’s all right. I arrived with Simon, my car’s here.”

Tamaya told her it was all right and then pointed at the elevator to tell Adrian they needed to get going. Both women started walking beside him, being slowly, but closely followed by Simon, letting Hugh standing where he was, probably waiting for him to follow them or—

Or maybe not.

But Hugh didn’t want to follow them.

He just wanted him.

“Simon—”

Adrian didn’t stop; the adults, however, did.

He was so happy, so relieved to see Simon turn around when he called his name, he didn’t even care that Tamaya and Kasumi also did it, with an expression on their faces he couldn’t tell what they meant.

That was enough for him to blur out his question.

“Can we talk?”

Simon slightly opened his mouth, but before saying anything, he turned to see his friends, for a reason Hugh didn’t understand (and didn’t bother to think about it).

Adrian called for the elevator, and realized, everyone was literally just standing there, without moving, and all their eyes were fixated on Simon. “Um… guys?”

Tamaya was the first one to come back to reality. “Wait for me in the car, Adrian, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He didn’t give it too much thought and nodded.

Simon still hadn’t said anything when Adrian left in the elevator. But now that his presence was gone, Hugh felt enough courage and serenity to— beg, he guessed.

“Please. Can we talk?”

Please. Please, please, please—

“Yes,” Simon said. “Yes, we can talk.”

He smiled. Just a little bit. Because Simon didn’t move towards him after he accepted. Instead, he stayed right where he was, as if he was in a line to get something from a store and if he moved, he was going to lose his place and the thing he had been waiting for hours to get.

After waiting for a good ten awkward seconds for Kasumi and Tamaya to keep walking, he realized they had no intention of doing so. And also, he realized that he didn’t want to talk with them either. Not at that moment.

At that moment, the only thing, the only person that mattered, was Simon.

“Could we… maybe go somewhere else more private?” he mumbled while scratching his eyebrow and trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls.

Simon clicked his tongue and glanced at Tamaya and Kasumi. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Or not.

The few instants they were walking towards the meeting room, Hugh looked at Simon’s hands, wondering when it would be the right moment to sneakily touch them, like he did when he was in love with him but still didn’t know it.

But Simon had his hands deep inside his pockets.

The only light that came into the room was the light of the few lightbulbs that illuminated the corridor; they turned off the majority of them during the night, not only because there weren't that many people around, but also to save electricity. Hugh entered first and Simon didn’t completely close the door behind him, only enough for no one to be able to see what they were doing in case some other Renegade was around there and walked past the room.

After that, Simon closed his eyes, grabbed tons of air, and then let it all go with a sigh. When he finally looked him in the eyes, Hugh realized it was the first time he did that after their fight in the kitchen.

And he realized all of that had happened in one day.

What a day. He bet they would remember it for the rest of their lives.

He hoped they wouldn’t. He hoped, and he hoped, even if his rational part told him it was not going to happen because memories didn’t work that way at all, but he kept hoping anyway, and started searching for the correct combination of words he needed for Simon to also forget about that day.

Hugh was willing to ignore everything they had gone through during that day. He would take Simon’s silence, words, and indifference, put it all inside a box, and then throw it at the back of his memories and never be opened again, if Simon was willing to do the same for Hugh’s cries, screams, and feelings.

He was even willing to let Simon stay mad at him for the rest of the night if that was what he needed. Yes, he could handle a night like that. He could be the one to stare at Simon’s back, for Simon to take a break from staring at his almost all the time they got into bed. He would do anything for him.

And he just wanted him to do one thing: to ignore everything that had just happened.

Forever.

While his mind was still trying to come up with how he was going to put all those thoughts into words, he caressed Simon’s cheek to buy himself a couple of extra seconds. But when Simon tensed and clenched his jaw, instead of tilting his head a little bit and putting his own hand over his, like he did every time Hugh touched his face like that, he knew there was nothing he couldn’t let more time go by.

Suddenly, his eyes were fixated on Simon’s lips. The same small, bitten, and dry lips he had contemplated for so many years, they felt like his own, and tasted like peppermint, a little bit of coffee, and sometimes even lavender.

When Simon opened them to speak, Hugh went from having absolutely no clue of what to do, to being absolutely sure of what he needed to do.

So he just did it.

He just placed his lips on top of Simon’s and kissed him.

At first, Simon didn't break the kiss. Instead, he went with the flow and kissed him back, as if he had been craving that kiss for months.

And he probably did. It was just that Hugh, suddenly, didn't.

Like. He thought he had. But now that he was there, with one hand holding Simon's head, and Simon's about to touch his hips, he started to feel like there was something very wrong with that situation.

But he was desperate. He wanted him back. He wanted him back and if that meant kissing him when he didn't feel like it, he was going to do it.

He would do everything for Simon.

He would never give up on him.

He just really wanted him to know that.

And really wanted to know if Simon hadn't given up on him either.

Simon kissed him one last time, raised his hands, put them on Hugh’s chest—

And pushed him away.

He pushed him away so suddenly, he tripped on his own feet and hit his head against the wall.

It didn't hurt though.

Still, the only thing he could answer to that, with Simon staring at him, realization dawning on his face, was a really fake:

“Ouch.”

Suddenly, Simon snapped. “What the fuck was that? Hugh, what the fuck was that?” he insisted. “Did you— do you really think that treating me as if I were a— a fucking animal, you're going to get something from me? Where do you think I have my brain? Huh? Where!?”

Hugh didn't respond. And Simon wasn't taking it. “Where?! Answer me! Where, where, where—”

Simon raised his hands above his head, and started pulling his own hair, hid his face with his arms, and just— broke down.

In a million pieces.

That was enough to make him flinch.

He preferred he pushed him again. Hell, Simon could slap him for kissing him without telling him he was going to do it first, and it would be much better than watching him suffer like that.

“Where, where—” he cried “—Stars, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for pushing you, it was— are you— I'm so sorry, lo—” and let out a loud sob.

Hugh kept gazing at his crying husband for a while.

“Do you really think that low of me?”

And kept pulling his hair. And his face remained hidden. His cries only became louder and louder, and Hugh didn't dare to move, much less to touch him, because even if he wanted with all his might to hold him and grabbed him by the wrists so he didn't continue hurting himself, he knew it would be useless.

Everything was useless.

“Stop that,” he finally dared to say.

He didn't say “No, I don't.”

He didn't say “Of course I don't think badly of you.”

He didn't even say he loved him.

He told him to stop.

Stop what?

“No, you stop!” Simon shrieked. “Stop whatever the hell you're doing, stop it. You're hurting me.”

Hurting.

You're hurting me.

He looked at his hands. Fortunately, they were completely dry and have not a single drop of chromium coming out of them.

But they felt as if they were on fire. And heavy.

Is that how they were supposed to feel when they were hurting someone?

And if they felt this heavy, and this hot, and this horrible, in how much heavy, hot, horrible pain could the other person be?

No, really: in how much?

How could you explain pain to someone who couldn't feel it?

“Why?”

And like an idiot, he asked back, “Why what?”

Simon removed his arms from his face and looked him dead in the eye for what he knew would be the last in time.

“Why do you have to make everything worse, Hugh?”

Hugh didn’t answer his question, and Simon didn’t answer his either.

A question he never got the chance to ask but was at the back of his mind.

Have you given up on me yet?

***

Hugh didn't come out of the meeting room until he was sure no one else was around. Until the elevator had gone and came back four times, and until his head felt so dizzy, he would faint if he didn't sit down.

He looked around, making sure nobody saw him, went to his office, and put a lock in the door. Hugh didn't want anyone to interrupt him. He had a lot of paperwork to do if he wanted to get Nova out of Cragmoor as soon as the sun came out.

***

It wasn’t the first time he had slept at his office. It had never been because he wanted to, but because he absolutely had to. Somedays, he would have so many responsibilities, that his normal working hours were not enough for him to finish them all. It was a little uncomfortable since the desk wasn’t the best place one could sleep on, and sometimes he didn’t have the energy to get up and go to Max’s quarantine room, to at least have the opportunity to sleep on a bed and an excuse to have a little more time with him.

Those nights, when he had to put his head on the desk and use his arms as a pillow, he would wake up and realized someone had put a blanket over his shoulders. And he always knew that someone had been Simon because the blanket smelled a little bit like him.

Even if Max’s quarantine area hadn’t been destroyed and he could go there to sleep, he wouldn’t have done it. Max wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t be the same with him moving like he was possessed by a demon and kicking him in his sleep.

Which was something also Simon did.

The day Nova was released from prison, Simon stayed at Kasumi’s house. She didn’t comment anything about it and Tamaya had been the one who told him that the reason he didn’t come to work was that he had a headache. Hugh never asked her about it, but she informed him anyways. For some reason, he pretended not to be very concerned about it and just mumbled he hoped he felt better tomorrow.

When he woke up, after his second night of sleeping on his desk, he considered the crazy idea Kasumi and Evander had told him of getting sofas for each one of his offices; idea that he had brushed off because he thought they would only waste space, but now regretted he hadn’t listened to.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have an extra uniform for that day, so he just prayed the one he was wearing was clean enough for nobody to notice he hadn’t changed his clothes that morning, put on a lot of deodorant and cologne to hide the fact he hadn’t showered, and went out through one of the back doors, just to enter again a couple of minutes later through the front door, pretending he had just arrived from home and hadn’t stayed there all night.

As soon as he entered, he told Sampson if he could please notify him when Nova arrived at Headquarters. He didn’t ask for an explanation as to why he wanted that, but accepted anyway, clearly excited for having her back with them.

Hugh wasn’t… excited. Or happy, for that matter. Not that he wasn’t happy that she wasn't locked up anymore— of course he was happy she wasn’t locked up anymore.

What he was feeling reminded him more of when Simon, Evander, and he were playing a game they liked to call “Tag, you’re straight”, that consisted of the three of them throwing balls against a random wall at the same time, and then doing their best to dodge them while pushing the others so they get hit. Then, whoever got hit, would be smacked on the back of his head, and the other two would yell “Tag, you’re straight!”. It was a game he really liked and they kept playing even when they weren’t teens anymore, since in their family, bullying Evander was a great bonding activity, and “Tag, you’re straight” was the perfect opportunity to do so, especially because, as far as everyone knew, Evander was, in fact, straight, so that made everything ten times funnier when he got hit by a ball and got mad about it.

And yes, everything was fun and laughs, until Hugh broke a window, and a very angry Tamaya practically kicked the door down to ask them what the fuck had happened, yelling at the three of them for a good two or five minutes.

Even if Hugh had been the one who broke the window, everyone (even Kasumi, who was in the bathroom when the whole thing happened) helped clean up the mess and got cardboard to cover what now would be considered a hole in the wall, so the cold wind and dust wouldn't get in the house. It seemed like Tamaya had gotten a lot out of her system after yelling at them, because she chuckled at the jokes Evander and Simon made about the situation, saying that Hugh’s new power was turning straight everyone (and everything) he touched and that now the window was “one of them”. Hugh wanted to laugh too, but at the same time, he could only ask himself how she was going to react when she arrived home and realized what he had done.

And of course he wanted her to come home, as he always wanted every time she got out, to make sure she was still safe and sound, and so they could tell each other about their day and what they had done while the other wasn’t around. But now, he was also worried. And ashamed.

It was a combination of happiness, expectation, worry, and shame.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

So when Sampson let him know, after a while, Nova McLain was there, what he really heard, was Simon’s voice telling him she had arrived.

He knew it wasn’t the same person. But it felt pretty similar.

He made sure he didn’t look like a dead body before going to the first floor while making mental notes of what he was going to say to Nova.

Her situation had always been one that was pretty delicate, but now it had taken a new turn. A simple “I’m sorry”, with only those words, wouldn’t be enough for her, because it wouldn’t be enough for him either. He knew how Cragmoor was.

Hugh wanted— needed her to feel as if she belonged to the Renegades. Because, yeah, she did, but he knew that when she was back in her cell, she probably didn’t feel that way, and if he let this one slide, it would become a problem sooner or later.

Probably much more sooner than later.

It wasn’t like he was going to lie to her face or something; he just was going to point in the right direction. For her.

When the elevator doors finally opened, he spotted Nova surrounded by Adrian’s team (but no Adrian in sight). Silva and Tucker were smiling at her and touching her, but Bell, who was used to keep her hands to herself when it came to physical touch, just stayed there, watching her friends greet her without actually participating in the conversation that was happening in front of her. Actually, she was the first one to leave Nova alone after Silva said something about going out to eat (and Hugh could clearly listen to him because Silva didn’t know how to keep his voice down, so when he went to their house, he could hear everything he said to Adrian, even the most embarrassing parts), an invitation Nova rejected, even after they insisted her to got with them. Hugh decided to take that as an opportunity to talk to her.

Nova was a Renegade.

And the Renegades didn’t turn their backs on each other.

The feeling that he had just thought something pretty hypocrite started to creep at the back of his mind, when someone very small bumped against his chest, and before he could mumble a mechanic apology and keep walking, he realized that very small someone was Nova.

He had to think fast.

“Oops, sorry, Nova.”

He could call her Nova, right? Insomnia felt way too formal. And McLain seemed a little bit aggressive. Plus, she was Adrian’s girlfriend— or that was the last thing he had known about the topic. If they had broken up, Hugh would have probably received a memo or something. He didn't have Max or Simon with him to ask them about what they knew about it. They probably would tell him to go ask Adrian directly though, and that was something Hugh was not willing to do because he was still not talking to Adrian.

“Uh… hi,” Nova stammered.

Then, being completely aware he could break her hand’s bones if he grabbed her too hard, gave her a handshake as carefully as he could.

But still solid enough to show her he was being serious.

“I asked Sampson to let me know when you came in. I wanted to be one of the first to welcome you back to the team.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

He released her hand and stopped smiling.

The conversation couldn’t die there. He needed more.  

“And I wanted to offer you a formal apology for this abysmal misunderstanding,” he added. “I’m ashamed to think how we treated you, as one of our own, when your loyalty and dedication has been so unwavering. It’s just…” What was the word? “all this turmoil that’s been going on lately, you know? The parade, Cosmopolis Park, the attack on headquarters, Ace Anarchy… sometimes I feel like we’re jumping through hoops set on fire, and every one of them is a little bit smaller. If we don’t keep ahead of all the threats and dangers, then one of these days, the whole thing will go up in flames.”

That was a good analogy. And he had just come up with that one.

Apparently, Nova thought it had been a good analogy too, because she chuckled and said, “Well, good thing you’re invincible, at least.”

“Yeah, I might be,” he shrugged, “but there are people I care about that don’t have that luxury, and I’m just doing what I can to protect them. I hope you understand that we did what we had to do, given the circumstances.”

The circumstances, he thought.

Nova had people she loved. Adrian had mentioned she had an uncle before, as far as he could remember. She had proved to be pretty passionate about the things she cared about, and he bet that she would do anything to protect the only family she had left.

The circumstances didn’t matter. They never mattered as long as the people one loved were safe.

She would understand.

She had to understand.

And fortunately, she did.

“Of course,” Nova answered, with a smile on her lips.

“Good.” Good. Everything was working out as he wanted to. “Because you are a part of the Renegades family now,” and he added, feeling a little too inspired, “and it’s important to me and all the Council that everyone here feels like they’re being treated fairly.  That they are part of this team.”

You’re a Renegade, Nova.

And the Renegades don’t turn their backs on each other.

And as if Nova had listened to his thoughts, she lifted her chin and said, “I don’t blame you and the Council for what happened. You were given information and you had to act on it. I understand why you did what you did. But—”

Hugh had to use all his might not to growl or roll his eyes as soon as he heard that word.

He couldn’t appear too relieved because something was always going to get in the way.

“—I was surprised by the whole execution thing.”

Me too.

Honestly, me too.

“Yes…” he agreed, “it’s unfortunate that we… Well, I hate to think about what you went through.” Then, just to make sure the point was cleared, he quickly said, “But I am so glad it’s all worked out.”

Isn't it?

“Yes, it worked out for me, thankfully,” she answered, putting a lot of emphasis on “for me”, by slowing her voice “But I have to admit that I’d always wanted to believe the Renegades were, well, above capital punishment. To end someone’s life, giving them no possible chance for restitution, and to do it without even offering a fair trial, it seems—” she frowned and put her index finger in the space between her nose and her lips “—how do I say this? A little villainous.”

As soon as Hugh heard that, he chuckled.

Because telling her to stop talking back to him and go to her room was not an option, and he didn’t know what else to do.

“To be fair,” he mentioned, “we did believe you were Nightmare, and Nightmare did try to kill me.”

But most importantly, she tried to kill Max. And should probably go for Adrian and Simon next, if they didn’t stop her soon. Something he should be making sure they did, but couldn’t leave the conversation, because Nova still had a lot to say about the matter.

“I’m aware of that,” Nova agreed “but… don’t you think she would at least deserve another chance?”

During the whole conversation, he had tried to stay as impassive as possible, only showing the right amount of emotion on his features for him to be able to get his point across. However, he didn’t do a good job on that specific moment, because Nova’s tone quickly changed.

“Or, maybe not Nightmare, specifically,” she withdrew. “But think about it. I was in that prison—wrongfully, yes—but it still gave me time to think about my life and my choices, and to decide that, if I ever got out of there, I would do things differently. The Renegades have to be willing to look beyond the mistakes of the past and understand that people can change.” Nova shook her head. “And I’m not talking about the execution, either. I know you’ll never forgive Ace Anarchy for what he did, and maybe you’ll never forgive Nightmare, either—”

At least we can agree on that.

And the only reason they could agree on that, was because Hugh was hearing her words as if she were talking to him underwater, and instead of focusing on what she was saying, he could only focus on her gestures, her hands, and, for some reason, her eyes.

But weirdly enough, he only did it when she wasn’t looking in his.

“—But there are dozens of prodigies on that island, some who have been there for more than a decade. And yet—” she raised her finger “—we have no systems in place to see if they really are as dangerous as we think they are. To see if they deserve the punishment they’re receiving. Maybe some of them want to become useful citizens in this world;” she shrugged, “maybe some of them deserve that. But you want to strip their powers from them, without even giving them a chance to explain why they did the things they did or how they’ve changed in the years since. Many of them are still being persecuted for crimes they committed in the Age of Anarchy…” Nova clicked her tongue before asking, “I mean, didn’t you do anything during that time that you’re not proud of?”

Nova asking him something so directly made him realize his jaw had been clenched during the whole conversation with no apparent reason at all. Then, a lot of things he wasn’t proud of doing during the Age of Anarchy started to come to his mind, and he had to stop his brain from doing that, because if the memories kept running, they were going to get to a point of no return, and no one would like what they were going to see.

Because when he first did, something broke inside of him.

No. It didn’t break.

It died.

Something died.

“We did what we had to do to stop the villain gangs, to bring order and peace,” he answered. “We would do it again if we had to.”

He would do it again. Most of it.

Only most of it.

She arched an eyebrow. “Even if that meant doing things that you wouldn’t allow today as part of the Code Authority?”

He clenched his jaw again and pinched his lips, only that this time, he knew exactly why he had done it.

“Maybe some of those prisoners did things that were… justified, in some way,” Nova continued. “Maybe they stole things because there were no jobs back then. Maybe they fought against authority because authority abused and ostracized people like them. Maybe they would choose differently now, if we only gave them a chance.”

Give them another chance. Chances.

Nova seemed to be really interested in chances. But Hugh had learned that the world didn’t always give second chances to people, not even to those who deserve it the most, and the sooner Nova learned that, the less the world would hurt her.

He had to stop her right there before realization hit her in the face.

When his kids were little and did something wrong, he (or Simon) would kneel in front of them and make it clear why their behavior was wrong, so they knew exactly the reason they were being grounded. Now, Nova was not his kid, and especially, she wasn't exactly a kid anymore. But she was still young, and if he could do something to protect her, he would do it.

He couldn’t apply the same technique he applied with Adrian and Max. However, he could definitely show her the right path and hope she knew, it was for her own good.

And, again, she would understand.

She had to understand.

“Nova… I can tell you’re passionate about this,” he started, and clearly noticed how her jaw tensed too, “but… you have to understand that the people in that prison aren’t like you. You were innocent. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. While they are criminals and villains, practically savages some of them.”

But to his surprise—

Nova didn’t.

“How do you know?” she spatted. “How many of them have you talked to recently? Or for that matter, how many of them ever received a fair trial?”

Hugh sighed and took a look at his surroundings. There were a lot of Renegades around them, pretending to be on their own thing, but clearly listening to the entire conversation for who knows how long.

He couldn't scream at them. Not again.

Nova, on the other hand, was also looking around but didn't appear as angry as Hugh was.

Maybe because she couldn't understand the severity of the conversation they were having.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked her, lowering his voice. Nova returned his attention to him. “That we postpone the Agent N reveal until we can… what, interview them?” then, he added, scoffing, “Or should we devote our resources to gathering evidence from ten years ago, all so we can prove what we already know? They are villains,” Hugh reminded her.

And in response, she reminded him, “I’m not a villain. But that wasn’t going to stop you from executing me.”

Hugh didn't doubt Nova's innocence. At least, not anymore. But, when she said it that way, she sounded so convincing and so sure of her words, that he wondered why he had thought she was Nightmare in the first place.

“And no,” Nova continued, “I’m not suggesting you postpone the reveal for a while, I’m suggesting you postpone it indefinitely.”

He stepped back, feeling shocked by the determination in her voice.

And her audacity.

That audacity.

Simon always said that one shouldn't be quick to judge other people's actions because there was always a reason why they were acting like that. Within those words (and Simon, always Simon) in mind, Hugh thought that there had to be a reason behind her audacity, and it couldn't be the one he was starting to think it was.

Nova didn't flinch at his reaction and continued to talk as confidently as before. “In fact, I think you should destroy Agent N. All of it. Along with any possibility that it could ever be re-created.”

Maybe it was resentment.

Maybe those were her ideas about good and bad.

Maybe it was that she was scared of losing her powers herself.

So he went with that, and recited the exact words he had been thinking about since Genissa Clark had been neutralized, and that he had been saying to each Renegade that expressed that very same concern. “If this is about what happened to Frostbite and her team, it’s important for everyone to know that we are working to ensure the safety of all Renegades—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nova interrupted him violently. “This isn’t about the patrol units or figuring out how to defend ourselves more efficiently or any of that” she clenched her fist, closed her eyes, and exclaimed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades!”

Suddenly, a shadow rose and turned into the familiar silhouette of the man who had used the exact same words years before Nova entered into his life.  

Hugh (and the rest of the world) would’ve been able to recognize his face on any occasion. At first, the only thing that made him less afraid of him was the knowledge that, at least, he didn't know how his face looked like, because he always hid it behind a mask and that made him have something to use against him that couldn't be used against Hugh.

Now, he knew how his face looked.

Now they could be… considered equals.

Even if Hugh had promised himself he would never let the power corrupt him the same way it had corrupted him.

He was better than him.

He would always be better than him.

But since no one could be better than him, Ace Anarchy's silhouette looked at him, raised an eyebrow,  and echoed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades. And the sooner Captain Chromium learns that, the less the world is going to hurt him and his cause.”

She shook her hands a little, but her eyes didn't open, and the shadow didn't disappear. “Isn’t it our responsibility to bridge the gaps between people?” she asked, more calmly than before. “To recognize that we all have to live in this world together? We need to start seeing other prodigies, not as villains, but as—” she blinked twice “—well, other human beings, who maybe aren’t so different from us after all. I want to believe that we can close this divide between us, but… Agent N isn’t the answer.”

Ace out his hands over Nova's shoulders.

“But that’s all the Anarchists have to say about the matter.”

And when their gazes locked, it hit him.

Someone was looking at him through Nova's eyes, and he immediately knew who it was because he recognized the feeling from when he looked at Adrian's and for those seconds he dared to do it, he didn't see his son, but her.

Through her eyes, he could see, for the split of a second, the man who had tried to stop Ace Anarchy even before they knew exactly how to do it. He saw the man who felt as if he had been a coward during all those years for staying by the Anarchist’s side, but in reality, was one of the best ones out of the bunch, because in the end, he had been able to have the courage to do what was right.

And she said that one cannot be brave who has no fear.

He wanted to get close to her. He wanted to kneel, grab her by the shoulders, and take a closer look at her, just to be completely sure he wasn't going crazy, because it for sure sounded crazy and maybe Hugh was indeed a little bit crazy, but he was also desperate enough to do all of those things he was thinking about just to get an answer once and for all.

But Ace's hands were still on her shoulders.

And she seemed so far.

And he feared it would happen again. Like when he saw Adrian's eyes, looking for her, just to realize she wasn't really there.

The Artino girl wasn't there either.

All the Artinos had been killed during that same night and nothing was going to bring them back.

“I know this is coming from a place of good intentions,” he stated. “I don’t expect you to understand the challenges facing our world of the difficult decision we’ve had to make, but I can assure you that none of our decisions have been made lightly.”

None of them.

Not a single one.

“I know that, but—”

“Everything the Council has done these past years has been in service to the people of this world who need our help, for protection and justice. I’m afraid this isn’t up for debate, Nova. Our decision regarding Agent N, and the fate of those villains, has already been decided.” But before Nova McLain could object, he sentenced, “And our decision is final.”

He turned his back on her before she could do it, and pretended he didn't notice she kept following him with her eyes until the elevator doors closed, and he leaned his back against the wall, doing his best not to start hyperventilating.

She didn't turn your back on you.

She didn't fail you.

She died.

She just died.

***

He stayed the rest of the morning inside his office after that, without (luckily) no one entering his office to ask him about anything. Not even Evander did it, and he had this horrible habit of just bursting into their offices to pretend he needed to seriously talk about something to ignore his own responsibilities. Hugh hated when he did that, so when he heard someone knocking on his door, he was ready to yell at Evander to get the hell out of his office, as if he were a seventeen-years-old teenager again, saying, “EVANDER, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” (only that this time, Evander wouldn’t be able to answer him with “WE SHARE THE ROOM, YOU CAPTAIN CU-”)

But Hugh didn’t have to yell anything, because it wasn’t Evander. It was Tamaya.

And whoever dared to yell at Tamaya could consider themselves a dead man.

“I’m going to get some take out for lunch,” she said, leaning against the door frame, “you want me to bring you something?”

Tamaya was the one who went out to get the others lunch each time they needed because she was able to fly to the coffee shop and get there a lot faster than any of them could. She didn’t seem to have a problem with it, even though she did have a lot of problems with a lot of things, and people taking advantage of her powers were one of them.

Maybe she liked to feel useful. Or maybe something she just needed to get out of there every once in a while.

“No, I’m fine,” he answered her.

“Oh, you brought something to eat then.”

“Of course.”

Tamaya wasn’t convinced by that answer.

“What did you bring?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Hugh opened one of his desk’s drawers. Fortunately, there was a can of soda that he didn’t know how had arrived there, but he was glad it did.

He took it out and showed it to her, pretending to be super proud of himself or something, and Tamaya rolled her eyes. “Well— if you don’t want anything, I won’t bring you anything.”

“That’s literally how things are supposed to work.”

She was about to leave when she remembered something. “Oh, by the way— Kasumi wants us to have lunch together.”

Hugh couldn’t help but growl. “Why?”

“Because she says so,” she answered him. “So take your… soda, and meet us at the dining room in half an hour.”

Hugh just went back to what he was doing and told her he was going to be there. Tamaya didn’t say anything else.

The Council didn’t eat at the cafeteria with the rest of the staff. They had a private dining room on the same floor their offices were. The cleaning staff never went there, because the six of them took turns to mop and sweep, and the main unspoken rule was “If you spill it, you clean it”. It was like when they lived all together in one house and had to work as a team to keep it clean, which Kasumi said was nice and brought her nice memories, but most of the time, Hugh thought it was a pain in the ass, since, obviously, sometimes people didn’t respect the unspoken rule, probably because they knew that someone else would be the one who would clean it anyways.

Just like when they lived together.

Only that, now, that someone was Hugh.

The dining room was mainly used by him and Simon. Sometimes Adrian went there to have lunch with them, but lately, he preferred to do it with his team. It wasn’t very common for the Council to eat together, because each one had their own schedule. He didn’t know why Kasumi suddenly wanted to do it and he thought it was a little bit annoying she didn’t take into consideration that maybe the rest of them had other things to do, but at the same time, couldn’t find a good reason for him to say no.

When the half an hour Tamaya said went by, he walked to the dining room and saw Kasumi for the first time that day.

She didn’t greet him or anything. Evander was with her, chattering about something that he didn’t comprehend, and didn’t want to know about, so he sat down on one of the chairs and completely ignored their conversation until Tamaya appeared uncomfortably sitting down in the chair beside him.

She didn’t bring him anything. Anything at all.

And, well… yes, Hugh had told her he didn’t want anything; but he always told her he didn’t want anything and she brought him something anyway. When one of them forgot their lunch, Tamaya bought them a sandwich or a sushi roll and basically stayed there until they finished the whole thing, and since Hugh was the one who forgot about his basic human needs the most, he had a lot of recent memories of Tamaya watching him eat, like a mother making sure her kid eat all his vegetables (which turned even more accurate when Hugh informed her he didn’t like green peppers and she told him to grow the fuck up and eat the damn thing.)

The next thing he knew, was that everyone was sitting at the table, eating their respective lunch in complete silence. Tamaya had bought a gyro, Kasumi was having a bowl of rice and pasta salad she had brought from home and was drinking a white milky beverage that Evander got for her when he went to the taco stand Oscar Silva and Adrian had told him about.

“You know how many calories are on those things?” Hugh asked Evander.

Evander looked at him and pointed at the soda he was drinking. “Is that all you’re having for lunch?”

He remained silenced for a little. “No…”

Tamaya rolled her eyes and Evander scoffed. “Evander, chips and soda do not count as lunch, eat grapes, grapes are the chips of nature,” he said in a ridiculous voice that intended to sound like Hugh’s (and didn’t). Kasumi snorted and tried to hide it by drinking some of her weird water/milk, but wasn’t able to. “Come on, Kasumi, make the Hugh voice,” Evander told her.

Don’t you dare.

Kasumi didn’t dare.

“Maybe later, Vandy,” she said, with a serious face. “Maybe later.”

“Come on!” he insisted, after taking a sip of his drink (the same he brought Kasumi). “Zoomie, you make a pretty good imitation of Hugh.”

Tamaya nodded. It was true; Kasumi was pretty good at imitating voices. He just wasn’t in the mood to hear them make fun of him.

Luckily, Kasumi wasn’t in the mood for that either. “Evander, I said no.”

Her voice was so severe and chilling, that Evander understood immediately. Tamaya asked him for a napkin, and the whole dining room fell silent again.

And it was also like when they lived together.

It hadn’t always been like that though.

“You know, this is the first time in, like, five years, I don't have any paperwork to fill,” Evander announced.

Literally nobody asked.

“Well, I do have tons of paperwork waiting for me on my desk,” Tamaya said, “I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

“That’s low, dude, I’m telling—” he frowned and looked around “—Wait… where’s Simon?”

And with that simple question, the room’s silence turned into a completely different type of silence.

One that he could not only feel, but also touch. One that made his vision blurry, a lump in his throat, and his eyes water. One that it was more like a fog than silence.

One that he could tell came from an imaginary fire that was so dangerous, he always shared a look with someone to make sure they were also aware of the situation they were in.

Only that this time, he didn’t share a look with anyone.

Tamaya and Kasumi did though.

And then, they turned to see Hugh.

But he didn’t turn to see them back.

“He wasn’t feeling well,” Kasumi said. “So… he stayed home.”

Evander arched his eyebrows. “Huh. Again?—” he turned to see Hugh “—Does he have a cold?”

“Evander—” Tamaya said.

“What? Dude, I’m literally just asking.”

“Well, don’t ask,” Hugh blurted out. “It’s not of your business.”

“But—”

“Not of your business,” then, he echoed, mockingly, “Dude.”

It’s not of anyone’s business.

He pretended he finished his soda and threw it in the can that was beside the water cooler close to the door. Even though the rest of them had just started eating, he saw no point in staying there longer than he already had. He had done enough by just being there for a while.

And he had other things to do.

Hugh excused himself and stood up. Neither Kasumi nor Tamaya said anything to him and just kept eating their lunches, probably because they already knew there was nothing that could be said.

But Evander didn’t know that.

So, before Hugh walked through the door, he said loud and clear:

“Someone didn’t get it last night.”

Kasumi got all pale and Tamaya started choking with her gyro. When they were able to recover from the initial shock, they cast an expecting and preoccupied glance at Hugh, waiting for his reaction for what felt like hours, and not seconds.

It took him a lot of time to process those words. He considered himself someone who reacted pretty quickly to everything, but the words Evander said to him were like freezing water, or a blow to the face, or…

Those things that would never be able to hurt him, but for some reason, if they were cold or powerful enough, would disorient him for a couple of seconds, before he would be able to get back up again and do something about it.

So at that moment, the only way he could react was asking him:

“What did you say to me?”

Evander raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I said you didn’t get it. You know”

But everyone pretended to not know what he was talking about.

Seeing they didn't react the way he expected them to, he frowned and clicked his tongue. “You didn’t tap that ass. You didn’t do the PP. He didn’t rub your silver spe—”

Kasumi got all red. “Evander—”

“I’m explaining it to him, I’m explaining it to him,” he told her as if trying to calm her down. “Let me finish the last one, I’ve been wanting to say that joke for months.”

Tamaya left her gyro on the plate and massaged her temple. “Evander, seriously, shut the fu—”

“Wait, no, I got this—” he chuckled, put his elbows on the table, closed his eyes “—Your hubby didn’t make love to you last night?” And then, after opening his eyes again, he added, “Darling.”

And with that, Hugh lost his head.

He went there.

He really went there, and the worst part was, he probably didn't even realize that.

He closed the door violently and screamed, “THAT'S IT.”

He threw himself at Evander before he could process what was happening. But Tamaya and Kasumi were a lot faster than him, and swiftly got in between the two of them, Tamaya grabbing Hugh by the shoulders and pulling him back, and Kasumi pushing Evander out of his way.

“BRO, WHAT THE—”

“I SAID IT’S NOT OF YOUR BUSINESS,” he yelled. “IT’S NOT OF ANYONE’S BUSINESS”

Tamaya and Kasumi finally managed to put them behind each of them, creating a weird barrier between the two. And even if they were almost as tall as the two of them were, they still weren't tall enough to completely block each other from the other's view. Hugh could perfectly see Evander paralyzed by his reaction, almost tripping with his own feet because of how much Kasumi kept pushing him and having to hold all of his weight on a chair to not fall backward.

But that still wasn't enough to stop him from shitting on him.

“WHAT’S YOUR DAMAGE!? DID YOU FALL OFF THE BED!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”

“Evander, lower your voice,” Kasumi urged him, “people will hear you.”

“Tell him to lower his voice!” he answered pointing at Hugh with the palm of his hand. “He started it! HE’S THE ONE WHO'S ACTING LIKE A FUCKING LUNATIC!”

Kasumi didn't agree with him directly. Instead, she turned around, looked at him from head to toe, slightly closing her eyes and pressing her lips, and before she even opened her mouth, he already knew he didn't want to listen to anything she had to say.

She hadn't listened to him first.

But now she was going to.

Everyone there was going to hear him.

“Hugh, I think—”

“Why did you tell him?” he asked.

Evander frowned even more. “Huh? Tell me what?”

But Kasumi barely moved.

“Why did you have to run to Evander and tell him about my personal life?” he kept asking her. “No, the real question is,” he scoffed, “why do you feel the necessity to get in my personal life, Kasumi?!”

Now it was Evander the one who carefully pushed Kasumi aside and put her behind him, but before he could scream at him or punch him in the face, knowing perfectly well that wouldn't do anything, Tamaya put his whole arm in front of him, giving him a deathly look, and Kasumi slightly touched his shoulder, completely poker-faced.

And for some reason that made him even angrier.

She had no right to act like she was the sane one in the situation.

“It’s not only your personal life,” she explained to him in a calm voice. “It’s also Simon’s. And I’m not getting into your personal life, he was the one who told us what was going on.”

“Us,” he echoed.

Tamaya let her arms down to her sides. “Yeah. Us. He told us everything.”

Evander didn't take her distraction as an opportunity to punch Hugh. “Everything?” he asked instead.

“Everything,” Hugh repeated.

But he wasn't answering Evander's question.

“Yeah, that’s great,” he said, faking a smile. “That’s fucking great. He went with you and talked shit about me behind my back.” The words were coming out of his mouth before he could question them, “What a great fucking husband he—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Kasumi ordered him, giving a step forward. “He wasn’t talking shit about you, he was worried. Simon was worried sick about you. He is worried sick about you.”

“Why— why is he worried about him?”

Everyone ignored him one more time.

Hugh crossed his arms. “Well, he doesn’t seem like it.”

Tamaya massaged her temple one more time and sighed. “Maybe if you—”

“Maybe if I do what?” he interrupted. “Should I make the first move? I already tried it, and it didn’t work.” He tried to scoff one more time, but what came out of him sounded more like a growl. “You should know; Simon must have told you.”

“When—”

“Yes, he did,” Kasumi answered, shameless. She crossed her arms too and frowned. “That wasn’t right, Hugh.”

What do you know?

You weren’t there.

No one was there.

“No, everything was going fine.” He clenched his fists. “Look, I don’t know what Simon made you think, but we were fine.”

“Not kissing your husband for weeks and then trying to do it just to avoid talking with him about the issue doesn’t sound fine to me.”

Evander gasped. “Wait, you actually haven’t been getting it—”

Hugh laughed out loud, and even he could notice he sounded like an absolute maniac. “You too? You too are going to pull that card on me?” he questioned her. “I do kiss him, and I do hug him, and we do have sex, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of these things, because these are private details of my life you shouldn’t know about! My private life is completely okay.”

Tamaya took him by surprise.

“But are you okay?”

Her voice sounded so soft, so calm, and so genuinely concerned, that he didn’t dare to lie to her, or to even look at her when he answered:

“Again. Not of your business.”

After that, Tamaya was herself again. “Hugh, listen—”

And Hugh managed to get the courage to lift his face. “No, you lis—”

The entire room went dark before Hugh could finish talking. A pair of blinding white lights started shining right in front of him, and, even with his eyes slightly closed, he could tell they were coming out of Evander’s fists.

The spotlight wasn’t on him at that moment. So he decided to steal it.

Classic Blacklight.

Classic Evander Wade throwing a fucking fit when the world dared not to revolve around him for a minute.

After making sure he had grabbed everyone's attention, he opened his hands again and the tiny balls of lights returned to their light bulbs. But his face was still clouded by a strange darkness that even made Kasumi flinch and move backward towards Tamaya.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, clenching his teeth and glaring at the three of them. “What the hell are you even talking about?—” and then, he turned to see him “—Why does everyone seem to know what the fucking problem is except me!?”

“…and she left me here!

ME!”

Him.

It was always him.

It hadn’t been enough for Evander that their lives practically had to revolve around him during all his childhood and teenage years. He now wanted them to stop their discussion and tell him what was going on as if they couldn’t have their own problems without him feeling he was entitled to know every single detail about it.

And hadn’t that been how that whole fight had started in the first place?

He hadn’t been able to control Tamaya and Kasumi finding out about what was going on because Simon had told him. But Hugh wasn’t Simon, and he was sure as hell he didn’t feel comfortable at all sharing that part of his life with him.

He wouldn’t understand. He would pretend he did for a couple of minutes, and then would use it against him on the first opportunity he had that would benefit him one way or another.

He knew Evander. He knew he was capable of that, and more.

“I think you should leave,” he told him.

His expression hardened. “I think you should answer my question.”

“I told you to leave!”

Hugh raised his arm to point at the door—

And Evander grabbed him by the wrist.

Kasumi’s eyes widened and Tamaya’s face contorted while her wings bristled, alerting her of the danger.

Hugh knew Evander was taller than him. At first, all of them made a lot of jokes about how it was Hugh’s worst fear and that he wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at any moment so nobody noticed it. But every one of those comments stayed like that.

Jokes.

Not only because, well, they were. But also because, inside his head, Hugh always saw Evander as shorter than him, probably because he had gotten used to the idea of things being that way, and he wasn’t in the mood for other detail of his life changing again, it didn’t matter how small it may seem.

Yet, now he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t see what was right in front of him.

He could tell his hands were getting warmer and warmer, to a point that if he had normal skin and his suit wasn’t covering his arm, he would start to feel as if they were burning him, and Evander didn’t appear to have any intentions of letting him go.

As if he wanted to burn him to death.

He kept staring at each other, with a vein popping out of his neck. The corners of his lips curved up, but before it could turn into a grin, it disappeared, and instead of laughing, he ordered, “Don’t you talk to me like that.”

“Me.

She left me here, guys.

She left.”

“Evander, that’s enough,” Tamaya said, with a calm, but terrifying tone. “Let him go.”

But Evander only grasped him tighter.

Her fingers shone with the electricity they carried. “Let. Him. Go.”

He glanced at Tamaya, then at Kasumi, and finally, he returned his attention to Hugh, waiting.

Waiting for him to say it.

“She left.”

“Let me go.”

Evander pressed his lips together and lost his grip until his arm fell, and he sat down again.

“And for the record—” Kasumi’s voice said, “—Don’t talk to any of us like that.”

Hugh turned his back at them and took off one of his gloves as fast and discreetly as he could. He heard Kasumi asking something to Evander but she said it in such a low voice that the only thing he could actually listen was Evander’s childhood nickname, which Kasumi always used and Hugh didn’t because it felt so personal to both of them he didn’t dare to interfere with that.

His hands were dry. And he forced his eyes to stay that way too because he could sense them getting wet at the thought of Evander really believing Hugh was going to hit him.

He heard Tamaya’s footsteps getting closer to him, and he rapidly put his glove back on and turned to see them again, scoffing. “So, that’s what today is about? You collectively decided all you were going to do was contradict me?”

Tamaya stepped back the steps she took and scoffed too. “Sounds familiar?” she asked. Hugh couldn’t ask her at first what she was talking about. “You can’t ask us to blindly follow you b and get mad when we decide not to do it. Especially when the things you’re doing are—” she looked for the right words “—not right.”

Kasumi straightened her back and nodded, agreeing with Tamaya. Evander tilted his head to one side while raising one eyebrow, and Hugh fought the impulse of doing it too.

“What?” he asked instead. “Tamaya, what are—”

“I’m talking about the fucking execution of Nova McLain,” she blurred out. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Evander growled and put his feet on the table, leaning in the chair he was sat on. He was so confused by Tamaya’s reaction he didn’t even bother to take the time to tell Evander to sit like an adult for once in his life.

“What does that have anything to do with what we’re discussing right now?” he exclaimed.

“It has everything to do with what we’re discussing right now!” she answered. “You, and you—” she pointed at Evander, and Evander pointed at himself, confused “—decided that, since you were too afraid of a spoiled girl ‘ruining’—” she made quotes in the air “—our reputation we were going to let her kill, in front the entire city, a child. A child, guys! A child who probably had parents who worried about her, just like you, Hugh, worry about your kids, or you, Evander, will worry about yours when they are born. Would you like them to be publicly executed without a proper trial just because the adults that were supposed to protect them, acted as the children in the situation?”

But before Hugh could tell her his kids would never act like Nightmare, more than comfortable with the idea of pretending as if the whole Max and Adrian situation hadn't happened, he heard it again.

But this time it was not a quiet chuckle.

This time, Evander was shamelessly chucking so loud, it almost sounded like a burst of laughter.

Tamaya was talking about Nova McLain’s situation and Evander was chuckling.

“Child?” he asked, trying to contain his laughs. “Nightmare is not a child. Children do not do the things she did. Children don’t try to overthrow—” he turned his hands into fists and glanced up to the ceiling for a couple of seconds, and then added, to no one in particular “—Children do not try to kill other children. She wouldn’t have tried to kill Max, or Adrian, or his team if she were truly a child because she would see herself in them. That’s just how things work.”

Inside his head, maybe.

But Evander had a lot of things inside his head and most of them were so twisted Hugh couldn’t tell what he truly believed and what he did not.

“Genissa Clark is nineteen,” Tamaya reminded him. “And Nightmare, as far as we know, it’s sixteen. They’re still children.”

Evander rolled his eyes, smirking for a microsecond. “Age doesn’t matter. What matters is this—” he tapped his temple “—the head.”

Out twisted and merciless heads.

“If they act like adults, they deserve to be treated as adults.”

“No,” Kasumi said, playing with her fingers. “No, they don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve anything that happened to them. Children…” she raised her head “children are never to blame.”

But, instead of looking back at her, Evander rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms.

Like the child he still was even if he always acted he was not.

“They may not be kids anymore, but, stars, you’re acting like one,” Hugh quipped.

He immediately put his feet on the floor and his jaw clenched. “I’m no longer nine years old, Hugh.”

Yes.

Yes, you are.

You’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.

Hugh didn’t have the opportunity to say anything though, because Kasumi put herself between Hugh and Evander once again, with her hands in her hips, and clearly said, “I wasn’t going to attend the execution.”

He froze. “You what?”

“Neither was I,” seconded Tamaya.

Hugh gazed at them, without being able to recognize their faces behind that proud expression they had all over them. “Why the fuck not?”

Kasumi scowled and rubbed the fingers of her right hand as if she wanted to snap them but didn’t, closing her eyes and keeping her head low. Tamaya instantly noticed that, and after throwing a quick attentive glance at her, her eyes bared into him.

“Because it was a monstrous and villainous thing to do,” she answered, barely opening her lips. “And the Renegades are not that.” She put her hand on her chest. “I’m not a villain, and I’m sure as hell I’m not a monster either. And I’ve spent too much time hating myself to let you or anyone allow those toxic thoughts to win.”

He looked over Tamaya’s shoulder to have a clearer vision of Kasumi. “And you? You agree with this?”

“Leave her her alo—”

“Yes, I agree,” Kasumi answered, without opening her eyes.

That was enough for him.

“So— are you insinuating I am a monster and a villain?” and he put his hand on his chest, the same way Tamaya had just done.

Kasumi stopped rubbing her fingers and saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“Take it as you want to take it,” Tamaya declared, crossing her arms. “I’m not surprised you’re trying to make it about yourself.”

“You know what? Yes!” he barked. “This is about me! I’m the one who's getting totally dragged right now, I’m the one you're criticizing, and I’m the one who’s getting attacked by all of you!” and he pointed at the three of them. “So yeah, this is about me, Tamaya, not about you!”

As soon as he said it, he knew what was coming next. He knew what Tamaya was going to do. She was going to spread her wings, close her fists, and get a lighting bolt for her to throw at him. Then, she would get so close to him, he would see the anger glowing in her eyes, and she would proceed to yell at Hugh for five minutes nonstop, and when Kasumi or Evander was able to make her keep quiet for an instant, he would start yelling back at her, and they would get trapped in an endless cycle, where neither of them knew when to shut their mouths and give up.

And he knew it because there had been times where the only thing the two of them did was fight, and yell, and try to silence the other by making sure one’s screams were louder than the other’s.

However, Tamaya didn’t do any of that.

Tamaya’s mouth fell open and was unable to say a single word while she stepped back, and leaned against the table because she wasn’t able to sit in a chair without feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Her silence was worse than her screaming.

He needed to fill the silence in one way or another.

“Why won’t you listen to me anymore?” he asked the rest. “Why don't you respect me, or my privacy, or my decisions? Do you think it’s easy? Do you think it’s easy to have this weight on my shoulders?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No, it’s not. But I man up, I shut my mouth, and do it, you know why? Because we stopped playing superheroes a long time ago, and now we’re governors, and I don’t want us to fail, which is something the Anarchists would love to see—” he extended his arms, like pointing at the rest of the world, when in reality, he was just pointing at the small room that seemed even smaller than before “—Tell me, do you want us to fail?”

This time, he did want an answer. He did give them the time to respond, but they didn’t take it. Tamaya stayed in complete silence, Kasumi started rubbing her fingers again, and Evander just turned redder and redder with each word he said.

“Do you want us to fail?!” he insisted. “DO YOU?!”

Still, no answers.

“You don’t, do you?! YOU DON’T!”

Silence.

Silence and Kasumi covering her ear with her fists.

“YOU DON’T! So—” he pointed at Evander, “—man up—” at Tamaya, “shut your mouth—” at Kasumi, “and listen to me!” And finally, at himself. “Because I am your leader! I AM YOUR CAPTAIN! AND YOU’LL DO AS I SAY!”

His yelling immediately was cut short by the sound of the tap of the water turning on savagely and the screeching sound of Kasumi asking:

“WELL, WHO MADE YOU CAPTAIN?!”

The water in the room started to go crazy. Not only the taps had opened, but also her drink was spilled all over the floor, small drops started to float around them, and the water inside the cooler became a strange swirl, that with each passing second just turned faster and faster.

And Kasumi was crying.

Or something like that.

It was water. They seemed like tears, but they were actually water that was coming out of her eyes, without any emotions in them. Her face, which at this point was soaked, didn’t change at all, as if it had changed if she were really crying.

Still, Hugh felt it like a slap across his face.

Evander was the first one to react. “Kasumi—”

“WHO MADE YOU OUR LEADER?!” she rasped. “WHO, HUGH?” and she grabbed him by the shoulders “WHO?”

The floor started to flood. Tamaya got on the table and moved her eyes from one side of the room to the other, trying to process what was going on in front of her, while Evander stood up in the chair he was sitting on. “Kasumi Hasegawa—”

“IT WAS US!” she answered, letting go of him and stepping back. “IT WAS US AND WE CAN TAKE YOU OFF THAT POSITION AS EASY AS WE PUT YOU THERE! SO CUT. THE. CRAP!”

“Zoomie!”

The cooler felt down on its side. If Tamaya hadn’t moved slightly to the left, it would have hit one of her wings. The sound of the heavy metallic object crashing against the floor was enough to make everyone in the room go quiet, and their eyes fixated on the water that was coming out of it.

Like blood in an open wound.

He was the last one to come back to reality, after the water started to disappear right in front of his eyes, and realized Kasumi was manipulating it to form a small wave that she dropped in the sink.

She closed the taps and sighed.

“You’re… you’re not acting like a leader right now,” she mumbled, leaning against the sink without looking at him. “You’re… you’re acting like… like—”

“Like what?” he asked.

As if he wanted to hear the answer to it.

“I don’t know— You’re just…” Kasumi turned around and the water running down her face was actual tears this time. There was no sadness clouding her features that was able to hide that fact. “You’re just not my friend.”

She looked at her own feet while walking towards her the things that remained on the floor. Tamaya grabbed the plastic cup of water she had been drinking from, and even though she took it (because Kasumi liked to reuse those things) she didn’t say thank you or acknowledge her gesture, and instead, kept talking to Hugh.

“We’re not your sidekicks. We’re not even your coworkers or your employees. We are your family. We are all a family. But somehow— you forgot it.”

She grabbed her small fabric bag and started to put all her things in there, with the rest of them quietly watching her, without daring to get close.

“I’m going to ask the three of you, but especially you, Hugh, to leave me alone.”

Before Kasumi left the room, Evander got down from the chair and rushed to her. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her bag against her chest. A small tear started to come out of the corner of her eye and her lower lip trembled. He extended his hand to wipe away her tears, and Hugh suddenly felt the urge to look away.

Until Kasumi stepped back, rubbed her eyes with one hand, and mumbled: “I said the three of you. Please, respect my decision, Evander.”

Kasumi walked out of the room, without closing the door behind her. Evander followed her, but stopped right under the door frame, grabbing to it. He glanced at Tamaya, and she, almost imperceptibly, shook her head saying no to something he was silently asking her.

His eyes didn’t well up. Instead, after a blink, they turned to see Hugh, burning and glimmering an emotion he could not describe as something else but hate.

His eyes were burning and glimmering with hate.

And his words too.

“This is all your fault.”

He walked in the opposite direction Kasumi went.

I know.

This is all my fault.

“Kasumi was right, you know?”

Tamaya was the only one remaining.

“You have acted like the biggest idiot that has ever existed,” she continued. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix this and I don’t know how you’re going to fix yourself.” Her expression dulled and she slightly bent down to try to look him in the eye. “But we are your family. And you are ours.”

Hugh ignored her attempts to make eye contact and felt his hands getting moist and hot under his gloves.

But he couldn’t decide if tell her or not, because Tamaya sighed, grabbed the rest of her lunch, and without turning to see him, sentenced:

“Talk to us when you start acting like it.”

And just like that, Hugh was left alone in an empty room, again.

***

Everything had started two months ago.

It wasn’t like there weren’t somedays where they didn’t have sex. After all, they were part of the Renegades Council. The days were long, and there were occasions when they just arrived at the house and went directly to bed, without eating dinner or anything.

Despite that, they had managed to keep a certain schedule. And if he wanted to be completely honest, those days when he could have a little time alone with Simon were the best.

Until they weren’t.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?” Simon asked again.

He wasn’t mad at all. He was genuinely concerned.

It was… adorable. So Simon.

“Everything all right?”

Hugh knew something was wrong. But he felt a little bit embarrassed about backing down with something he had started.

Which was… weird.

Because nothing was embarrassing with Simon.

“Hugh—”

“I think I’m no longer in the mood to keep going,” he blurred out.

Simon’s eyes widened. He licked his lips, like he did every time he was analyzing a situation, and smirked. “You aren’t in the mood? You? You, Hugh Everhart, aren't in the mood for sex?”

Hugh couldn’t laugh at the stupid face he had made. “No.”

Luckily, Simon noticed that. “Oh. All right. Well, don’t worry, love. It’s okay.”

“I’m so—”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he interrupted him, using the same tone Hugh used all the time when they were younger to tell Simon not to be sorry. “There’s no need to apologize.” He ran his hand through his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m just— going to the bathroom—” he grabbed the pile of clothes he had left on the nightstand “—I won’t take long.”

Hugh couldn’t tell if he took long or not. He just put on his clothes again too and got under the covers. He didn’t even turn around when Simon asked him, “Do you wanna be the little spoon tonight?”

He was never the little spoon. But he accepted anyway.

There were a lot of other nights that ended up that way. Nights that Hugh started something just to follow the schedule, things that they never finished because Simon always noticed something was wrong and said they should stop. Then, he kissed him, told him there was nothing to be sorry about, went to the bathroom to change, and went back to be the big spoon.

Until one day, Hugh fell asleep in a position that didn’t allow Simon to cuddle with him. Or at least he pretended to fall asleep to avoid any questions as if why he didn’t want to cuddle that night.

He couldn’t avoid any questions the next morning though.

When he went downstairs to have breakfast, Simon was waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Glad you’re here so early,” Simon said. “We need to talk.”

It was Saturday. Simon was wearing his cotton rob and had prepared an avocado toast and a cup of coffee.

Just the mere fact of him drinking coffee, plus the “We need to talk” phrase, was a bad sign. Not only because Simon got really anxious when he didn’t control how much coffee he drank, but also because the last time he had told him they needed to talk, was when he found some not very family-friendly videos on the family’s computer and thought that it would be better if he asked Hugh if they were his first because he didn’t want to accidentally introduce Adrian to that kind of… audiovisuals.

Stars…

That day had been one of the worst days of his life. And Hugh had fought a civil war. The bar for “bad days” was pretty high, but Adrian still managed to go higher than that.

“What did he do now?”

“Oh, God, no— Adrian’s clean. He’s still sleeping, actually,” Simon responded, completely aware of what Hugh was talking about. “But that’s why I want to talk to you before he comes.”

Hugh felt a little bit less tense. A little bit.

He took the coffee pot and started pouring it on the first cup he found. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Simon drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bar and scratched his beard with his left hand, staring at his unfinished breakfast. “Love… are you having problems?”

“Problems?” he scoffed. “What kind of problems?”

“Oh, you know… problems… down there.”

He lost focus and he poured the coffee on his hand. “Shit—”

“Look, it’s just that I think it’s kind… strange what has been going on these last days,” Simon said without noticing the whole coffee situation. “We— we had a schedule, and now we don’t, and I’m not mad at all, I just want to know if there’s something more to it.”

Hugh left the coffee pot where it belonged and Simon kept talking.

“You should— we should go to see a doctor,” he whispered. “I know you have never had an appointment with a doctor before, but we could… I don’t know, ask around, until you find one that makes you feel comfortable.”

And he would have probably kept talking if he hadn’t interrupted.

“It’s more common than you may think, you know,” he assured him. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone once in a while has— you know, some kind difficulties, or it hurts, or—”

“No.”

Simon suddenly went silent. “No what?”

“Nothing hurts,” he answered. “I literally cannot feel pain, remember?”

“Oh, no, I mean, of course I remember,” Simon mumbled. “It was— it was just an expression.”

Hugh frowned. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable amount of time, while Hugh stirred his coffee with a plastic spoon and Simon pretended he was really focused on his breakfast.

“You didn’t answer my question though,” he said after a while. “Are you having any kind of problems?”

Hugh gave him the same answer. “No.”

“All right. I believe you. And I trust you. You know I’ll always trust you, don’t you?”

When Simon said he trusted him, Hugh usually responded to him saying he trusted him back. But this time, he said, “As you should.”

At that moment, Adrian walked into the dining room, letting them know their conversation had come to an end.

Hurting.

What a strange word.

He couldn’t comprehend it. And he’d never liked things that he couldn’t comprehend.

Nevertheless, even if he had lived his whole life hating things he couldn’t comprehend, now he didn’t understand why he felt so attacked by the way Simon formulated his question. The rational part of him knew he had no intention of making him angry, but his emotional side got angry at him anyway. He got so angry, he dedicated the rest of the day to ignore him.

And things didn’t change after that conversation. They just got worse.

So much worse.

Hugh didn’t even bother anymore to make the first move. He slept turning his back on Simon, so he could make clear he didn’t want to be touched at that moment. But sometimes, Simon didn’t understand (or pretended he didn’t understand) his signals, and asked him in a thousand different ways if that was going to be the night everything was going back to normal.

“How are you feeling, love? Are you better now?”

“How about we try something new today?”

“Hugh, are you awake?”

“Hugh, love, please… answer me”

But Hugh never answered him. Not with anything else but “Fine”, “Other day”, “No”, or just silence. Because sometimes silence counted as an answer.

And sometimes it was the loudest of sounds.

He was already ready for bed. He had brushed his teeth, had put on his pajamas, and had gone downstairs to make sure Adrian was still breathing, being especially careful not to wake him up.

Fifteen minutes had passed since that, and he was still standing up next to the bed, without feeling like getting in yet.

Then, he realized they hadn’t made the bed since the day of the fight. The coverlet was almost touching the ground and the pillows were everywhere except where they were supposed to be. He felt a strange energy going through his body, that ordered him to get closer and start making the bed.

No one liked to sleep on an unmade bed anyways.

However, the moment he started doing that, he made the mistake of graving Simon’s pillow. And Simon’s pillow made the mistake of smelling just like him, and the smell of mint, fabric softener, hit and the citrus body lotion he used was so intense, it made him feel, even if it was for a couple of seconds as if Simon were there.

That feeling lasted, at least, five seconds. And when he tried to smile, he started crying.

Because that pillow wasn’t Simon. Because Simon was not there.

Because Simon had left. He really left.

Without letting go of the pillow, he sat on the cold and hard floor. His elbows accidentally hit the nightstand he had next to his side of the bed, making the lamp and the couple of glasses he never returned to the kitchen tremble a little, but he wouldn’t have cared less if they fell to the floor and broken.

It wasn’t like they could cut him or anything.

He smelled the pillow one more time, and it was more than enough to make Simon’s ghost appear a couple of feet away from him, with empty eyes and a serious face, asking the same questions over and over again.

Why don’t you ever touch me anymore?

Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not?

Why are you so fucking cold all the time?

Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!

“Because I don't even know what is wrong with me,” he finally answered.

Simon’s ghost didn’t ask what he meant. After all, even if he did and Hugh answered him, he wouldn’t have understood.

In fact, he knew Simon hoped he never would.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to Simon anymore. No, it was not that. For him, Simon was the most perfect man he had ever seen in his whole life. He loved his voice, soft like velvet. He loved his hands touching his skin. He loved his eyes that looked at him with adoration, and he loved his body, toned and covered in body hair, that used to make Simon feel self-conscious, but that Hugh had always found really appealing and he made sure to remind him that in every opportunity he had.

Simon had not a single flaw because he was perfect for him.

But when the darkness filled the room and he stretched out his hand to touch him…

It was like something fell upon him. Something so heavy and so big, he couldn’t get rid of it, not even using his powers at their maximum capacities. It didn’t let him move, it didn’t let him speak, and the only thing he could do was to soldier on, praying to a God he wasn’t sure it existed, asking him to please take that weight off him when the sun came out because if he didn’t do it, Hugh would have been capable of staying there for the rest of his days.

Completely still. Without any strength to move his head or change into a more comfortable position. Letting his body get all dusty as if he were part of one of those sets of furniture that they kept in the guest’s rooms that were never used because no one visited them, other than the rest of the Council.

Now, he didn’t know if it was God the one that took that weight off him, but he did know that as soon as the sun started to come out, the weight became lighter and lighter until it finally disappeared and Hugh was able to move again. He dusted off his whole body, prepared to go to the Headquarters, and put on his best face to convince others (and himself) that he wasn’t tired at all.

It had been a long time since the last time Hugh was able to sleep comfortably. He would say it was something that affected him even before his whole… situation with Simon. It had been going on for years. Adrian was still a kid when it all started.

“You should pop some pills or something,” Evander told Hugh when he dared to look a little bit more tired than normal. “You know— to help you sleep.” He clicked his tongue. “After the Day of Triumph, I began to take some sleeping pills, and they helped me a lot.” But before Hugh could ask him why he needed to take sleeping pills, Evander grabbed the folder where the documents he had asked him for and walked to the door, not without patting him on the shoulder first. “Maybe they can help you too.”

There was no need to say Hugh didn’t listen to him. Not only because Evander’s advice wasn’t always the best advice someone could receive, but also because there was something about taking pills he didn’t like at all.

Besides that, it wasn’t like Hugh could take any pill he wanted. They needed to have a strong effect or he would have to take more than one at a time. And Simon already needed to take pills to help him control his anxiety and went to therapy every two weeks.

He hated to say it, but it was a lot of money. It was not worthy. Simon had it worse than him, he needed those pills and those therapy sessions.

Hugh didn’t.

So, yeah, he didn’t listen to Evander. Neither did he listen to Kasumi when she gave him the same recommendation, and couldn’t contain his laugh when she suggested he should do some yoga. He also got into a big fight with Tamaya when she pointed out something was wrong with him, even though the reason that made her think that was that Hugh had broken one of the cupboard doors and was going around looking for something to eat without noticing at all he had destroyed his perfectly designed kitchen.

As time went by, going to sleep became like playing Russian roulette. He never knew if that night he was going to be able to go to sleep or not, but it wasn't like sleeping made a huge difference because each morning he woke up feeling tired anyway.

Probably, the only difference between sleeping or not, was that when he didn’t, when he stayed up all night, all he could see were ghosts.

During his childhood years, Adrian developed a huge fear of ghosts. Adrian was afraid of so many things Hugh couldn’t name each and every one of them, but he did know ghosts were very high on the list. He woke up in the middle of the night all the time, and the most common excuse he gave for his behavior, was that he was afraid the ghosts of the people who were murdered in that house would suddenly start hunting him.

Hugh didn’t believe in ghosts and he didn’t think Adrian should do it either. But when he started to see his own ghosts, he stopped complaining each time Adrian woke him up, asking him, “Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Of course, he didn’t see the same ghosts Adrian thought he saw. Hugh’s ghosts were completely different.

Sometimes, it was a man, who despite his young age, he appeared to have lived a thousand years. He had deep circles under his blue eyes and the saddest smile it had ever existed. Occasionally, he was accompanied by a woman, with long and dark hair, who carried in her arms a chubby and loud baby that cried each time she felt her mom wasn’t close enough to her. And most of the times, they also brought with them a little girl, that got between the sheets at the same time Adrian did, and that each time he got closer to Hugh to ask him if he could cuddle him until he fell asleep, he felt as if he were hugging the dead body of that tormented soul, asking him why he didn’t arrive on time.

Hugh didn’t like other people’s kids. Especially if those kids liked to meddle in his business.  

So one of those nights, he locked the door. That way, no ghost was going to enter his room.

And neither would Adrian.

That night, he was starting to kind of fall asleep, after spending hours looking at the window, when he heard a couple of small hands trying to open the bedroom’s door. For a second, they stopped, trying to process why it wasn’t opening as it should. Then, they tried again. When they failed a third time, Adrian started bawling.

Simon woke up immediately.

But Hugh wasn't surprised at all.

“Adrian…” he mumbled. “Adrian, hold on, I’m coming!”

He removed the covers so quickly, he punched Hugh on the face, waking him up completely. He tried to open the door the same way Adrian previously did, but the panic he was feeling at that moment didn’t allow him to process why the door wasn’t opening, and just made his anxiety levels go to the roof.

“Hugh… Hugh, the door,” he mumbled. “The door’s— the door’s not opening, help.”

But he didn’t help.

Not because he didn’t want to. He wanted to help him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, and that the door was just locked.

But there was something on the sound of Adrian’s cries and the way Simon called his name that made the weight on his chest start to choke him.

Really choke him.

“Hugh! The door, please.”

“DADDY! DADDY, LET ME IN, DADDY, LET ME IN!”

“Aren’t you listening to me?! Wake up! Wake up and help me, Hugh!”

“LET ME IN, DADDY, PLEASE!”

“Hold on just a second, darling,” Simon squeezed. “Hold on just a second— HUGH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, COME HERE AND HELP ME!”

“DA— DADDY, PLE— AAAAH!”

First, he heard something getting violently hit. Then, complete silence. And finally, Adrian started crying again.

When Simon turned on the lights, Hugh was able to turn around to see what was happening.

Apparently, Simon had kicked the door down, and Adrian had been fast enough to get away from it before it punched him in the face...

Bit he still got hit on the forehead pretty hard.

“Oh, Adrian, dar—”

“DADDY! POPS HIT ME! HE HIT ME!”

“DARLING, I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, FORGIVE ME!”

Hugh rubbed his eyes, annoyed at the sudden change of light in the room. He noticed Adrian was wearing the blue pajamas Kasumi had brought him during his ninth birthday and was holding the Baby Indomitable blanket.

The blanket she had made for him.

Simon kneeled in front of Adrian and grabbed him by the cheeks. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he said. His eyes were all watery and his voice broke. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he repeated with more emphasis. When Hugh didn’t respond, his worried expression turned into one of pure angriness. “Fuck, Hugh, why did you lock the door? WHY DID YOU LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR, HUH? WHY?”

For some reason, the weight that was suffocating him decided that was a good moment to let go of his throat for a second, just for him to give Simon a reason why. And the only thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Adrian is too old to be sleeping with us every night.”

Adrian started bawling again, and Simon realized going to the hospital was going to take too much time, so he took his son in his arms, and went downstairs to call Tamaya’s husband, Owen, the only doctor they truly trusted.

When Simon got out of the room, he didn’t turn off the lights. Hugh got up to do that, but in the end, decided it would be more appropriate to go with his husband and kid, in case they needed anything.

In the kitchen, Simon was holding Adrian with one arm and holding the phone next to his ear with the other. After a long wait, he hung up, ready to start yelling and punching the first thing (or person) he saw.

Luckily, the first one who noticed Hugh was there, was Adrian.

He had a big bump on his forehead.

“Give him to me,” Hugh whispered. Simon (who was dialing the phone one more time) doubted for a second but finally accepted. “How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” Adrian whispered.

There it was again. That word.

He sat him on the kitchen bar. “Of course it does, buddy. Do you want some juice?”

Adrian nodded. “Can I have apple juice?” he shyly asked.

Hugh looked for it inside the fridge. “We only have strawberry juice,” he said.

“I like strawberry juice too.”

“Good.”

He took two strawberry juice cartons and gave him one. At that moment, Simon pointed at the phone with a hopeful and scared expression, and said, “Tamaya, I almost ripped Adrian’s head off, I need your husband.”

While a really confused Tamaya asked Simon what the hell did he mean with almost ripping Adrian’s head off, Hugh sat down on one of the stools, right in front of his son. He had his legs crossed and was drinking his juice, moving his head as if he were listening to a happy melody.

“... and accidently hit him with the door,” Simon said to the phone. For his change of tone, Hugh could tell he was talking to Owen too (he knew Tamaya well enough to know she was still listening to everything that was going on after putting the phone on speaker). “No, he didn’t lose consciousness, he just… cried a lot… he’s—um, actually kind of hungry right now. Yeah, he’s… he’s drinking some juice. Um… let’s see— Adrian, darling.” Adrian turned around to see him. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Um… Sunday.”

“Great job—” he returned his attention to the call “—He doesn't seem disoriented either.”

Hugh paid a little bit more attention to the nasty bump Adrian had on his head. He didn’t dare to touch it for fear of hurting him more, but a part of him remembered having seen someone wrapping a bag of frozen peas on an old cloth and putting it on the injured area.

So he did that too. He just changed the bag of frozen peas with the strawberry juice carton.

“Can I drink that one too?” Adrian asked, chuckling slightly.  

Hugh smiled at him. “No, you can’t. Too much sugar.”

And when Adrian laughed again, he remembered where he had learned that piece of medical advice.

And he stopped smiling.

“Ice? Just… just ice?” Simon asked Owen, incredulous. His gaze met Hugh’s. “It seems like… Hugh already did that. Are you sure that’s all he needs? And can he go to sleep? Sure? He’s not gonna— no, but… Tamaya, please, let the doctor speak— ok, there’s no need to talk to me like that, I’m sensitive, all right? When you hit your kid with a door, you'll understand my concern.”

After Owen and Tamaya were able to calm Simon down, he hung up the phone. “Well, Adrian, Owen says you’re fine,” he said a little bit less shaken up than before. “And Tamaya is not invited to next week’s party.” Adrian chuckled again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Simon carried Adrian all the way to his room. Hugh followed them closely, and stayed at the door, listening to his son asking his dad if they could sleep with him that night.

“You’re not too old to sleep with me anyways,” he assured.

Simon looked at Hugh, but he was so far away, he couldn’t tell what he was trying to communicate with his eyes.

If he was trying to communicate anything at all.

There was nothing Simon could say though; it still didn’t seem right for him to sleep in the same bed as Adrian that night.

After all, he had been the one that locked him out of his room when he needed him the most. Adrian was asking for his dad (or “daddy”, like he called him at that age), and he had not reacted immediately after hearing his first cries.

And to make matters worse, he hadn't bought apple juice, even if he knew it was Adrian’s favorite.

Hugh felt like the worst parent on the planet.

Simon was the one who stayed with Adrian that night. Hugh told him the three of them wouldn’t fit in the same bed anyway. Adrian wasn’t that convinced by that answer, but as soon as Simon kissed the top of his head, he seemed a lot happier than before.

He wasn’t able to sleep that night. Not because it was the first time in forever he slept on a bed all by himself, not at all.

It was actually the opposite.

Because from that moment on, two things happened: first, each time Adrian woke up in the middle of the night and went to their bedroom, Simon grabbed him by the hand and together went back to Adrian’s room, where Simon slept on the same bed as his son, and Adrian cried until he fell asleep. And second, after that night, a new ghost joined in. It was no longer the man with blue eyes, or the mother and her loud baby, nor it was the little girl who made too many questions for her own good.

It was her, whose smile could light up the darkest of rooms. Her, whose laugh he heard everywhere, without actually hearing it. Her, who sometimes made him think was seeing her through their son’s eyes, and her who, when no one else was there for him, hugged him from behind and assured him everything was going to work out at the end of the day because there was no force on the universe that was able to take down Lady Indomitable and Captain Chromium.

But she had been wrong.

Like the night after that mission.

It probably had been an unimportant mission, because Hugh could no longer remember what it was about. He just remembered he had planned it and it had failed. They were not able to get what they wanted and the bad guys won. Also, all the members of the team had gotten hurt in some way or another. For example, Simon was left temporarily deaf on one ear after a big explosion and his right hand had first degree burns. Kasumi had been able to avoid getting burned by using her powers to make a kind of water dome around her, but she still got her knees all scraped when she tried to run and fell, and when he said scraped, he meant really scraped. Tamaya wanted to electrocute one of those guys by herself when they tried to take Evander by grabbing him by the leg in a way she didn’t like at all, and even if she did leave all of them unconscious, both still got deep cuts on their hands and arms.

When they arrived, the house became a hospital, where she was the one and the only doctor, because she didn’t get hurt that much and was able to move around without bleeding to death or something.

Hugh also helped her take care of everyone’s injuries (and to calm down Simon when he started panicking about the whole “I CANNOT LIVE MY LIFE ONLY HEARING WITH ONE EAR” thing.) But he wasn’t as good as a doctor as she was, even if he was the designated nurse when one of them got sick of something that may be contagious. That’s why he limited himself to passing her the bandages, towels, and anything she needed, without complaining or giving his unsolicited advice like he constantly did with everyone except her.

After they were finished attending everyone, they decided to go to sleep. Hugh didn’t feel like sleeping that night though, so he went to the roof, thinking he was probably going to stay there until the morning came, to be able to get in bed again and pretend like he had been there the whole night.

However, someone did notice he was gone.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She was flying a couple of inches above the ground and was wearing her pajamas and a little blanket as a cape, to cover herself from the cold wind.

With one hand, she was holding a bag of frozen peas wrapped in an old rag and put it on the small bump she had got when she got hit during that night’s mission.

Hugh just nodded, and she sat beside him, sighing.

They stayed in complete silence, and when he was about to ask her if he could help her with anything, she asked him:

“Where does it hurt, Hugh?”

“What?”

“Where does it hurt?” she asked again.

“No, I heard you the first time,” he answered. “It’s just—”

Just what?

But Georgie didn’t ask him that.

“I know it may not… physically hurt,” she explained herself after realizing he was not going to finish that sentence, leaving the bag of frozen peas on her lap. “But I also know there are a lot of ways someone can be hurting, and those wounds that are on the inside, are as important as the wounds we can see on the outside—” she grabbed his hand, and gently took him by the cheek to make sure he saw her in the eyes.

He would recognize those eyes everywhere.

“Why does it matter?” he asked her softly.

“Because… you’re very strong, Hugh,” she answered caressing his cheek. “Very, very strong. But maybe, if you tell me exactly what’s going on inside your head, we can find a way to cure your pain together. Because we’re in this together. You don’t have to do it alone. Not again. Not ever again.”

She closed her eyes, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking at their hands, holding each other like their life depended on it.

“So tell me… where does it hurt?”

He didn’t answer the question; but he remembered it was the first time in forever he cried in front of someone who wasn’t Simon. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying and his memories about that moment were blurry as if it had been a dream. What he did remember very vividly was that she didn’t judge him at all or made him like his feelings didn’t matter. On the contrary, she stayed there as long as he needed, crying with him, until he was able to calm down again, and asked her if she wanted to go back inside. She didn’t think twice and accepted. After returning the frozen peas to the freezer, they pushed together the two couches they had in the living room, covered themselves with the small blanket she had brought with her and cuddled until they fell asleep.

From that moment on, it became more common for them to cuddle together. She was always cuddling with everyone, even with Tamaya and Simon, who were the ones with more difficulties accepting physical affection from others. But not even them could refuse her hugs, and her kisses, and her not so uncommon tickles, which Evander and Kasumi loved. Hugh couldn’t help but notice though, he was the one she hugged, kissed and tickled the most, even after she had Adrian and had to share her love with one person more, that probably needed it more than him.

And he loved to be her favorite.

Well— her second favorite. Adrian went first.

He just wished he had hugged her, kissed her, and tickled her more. She was always the one who looked for him, but he rarely looked for her to show her physical affection.

Hugh didn’t look for her at all. Not even when she disappeared.

He didn’t even know why.

He didn’t know anything.

But he did know that she had been wrong when she told him he was strong.

If he were truly strong, he would have protected her, like he had promised her he would do thousands and thousands of times.

If he were truly strong, he would have been the one that was there when the Artinos needed the Renegades, and he would have stopped the hitman Ace Anarchy sent to end them.

If he were truly strong and death had come after him the same way it came after her, he would have survived the fall.

Because he always did.

Because it was not possible for him to get hurt.

It was not her fault she hadn’t survived though. She wasn’t built that way. While Hugh was made mostly of chromium, Georgia Rawles was made of flesh, bones, blood, but mainly, she was made of love, and sometimes, love could be indestructible, but other times, it could also be fragile.

Very fragile.

It didn’t matter how strong she was.

Oh, because she was strong. She was really strong. She had the kind of strength his superpowers couldn’t give him, and that was the one that was going to change the world they lived in.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she kept her cool when things were going to hell.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she raised a child in the middle of a world ruled by anarchy, and was the best mother that child could ask for.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she became the face people saw when they thought about hope, and didn’t let her beautiful heart to be changed by the obstacles life threw at her, no matter how horrible they were.

And it hadn’t been her fault she died. She didn’t fail anyone, not even the Artinos.

No. The one who had failed the Artinos, the one who had failed her, had been Hugh.

He should have been the one who died that night. He should be dead and buried, and she should be there, alive, with her son and her family, living in the world she had made a better place.

A world he didn’t feel he deserved.

Suddenly, a couple of familiar white boots appeared a couple of inches in front of him. He tried to convince himself not to look up, but his curiosity was bigger than his fear, even if he already knew who it was because she appeared every night after the door incident. It was Georgie’s ghost, just that this time, she was holding Simon’s hand. Her golden cape had not a single drop of blood and looked like new. She was wearing her whole superhero uniform but without her mask, so he had a clear view of her whole face. She let go of Simon for a second, and tried to walk towards Hugh, without taking her eyes away from him.

She didn’t even have to talk to let him know what she was trying to say.

Georgie was trying to remember him the good things his world had. He had raised two brilliant and kind sons who were his pride and joy, even when they weren’t in their best behavior. He had a friend who felt like an older sister, that fiercely loved him and the rest and had always done even when she was still learning how to love herself for the good, chaotic, intelligent, and beautiful person she was. He had another friend who, on the other hand, felt like a younger sister, and whose gestures, voice, and movements were like the calm before the storm, but when it came the time to defend others or defend herself, she became the storm itself, ready to drown whoever dare to treat her in a way that didn’t fit the respect she deserved. He also had a friend, who felt like a little brother, that he had seen grow up since he was a kid that had to get on his tiptoes to high five him, and the memory of his smile, his laugh, and his jokes that sometimes seemed to be hidden behind that strange villainous mask he wore was enough for him not to hate him, even if he hated Hugh.

He had… or had had a husband too. A husband that made him feel like he was at home each time he saw him. A husband who laughed at all his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny, and made him fall in love with him all over again each time he opened that smart mouth of his. A husband whose personality, humor, and body perfectly fit his, because if Hugh had been made for someone, it had been for him. A husband who always chose him, above anything else, but when it came to the point Hugh had failed him so many times, he had no other option but to choose himself.

And it wasn’t like Hugh could blame him. Simon deserved to be happy. Simon deserved each and all of the good things that this world had to offer to him, even if one of those things wasn’t Hugh.

Suddenly, Georgie extended her hand towards him, but when she was about to touch him, an invisible and polarized wall suddenly got in her way.

It was the first time Hugh actually saw it.

It was something grey, hollow, and invisible, that was coming out of him like the chrome that was dripping from his fingers at that very moment.

But Georgie, being Georgie, didn't flinch when she saw that wall. Instead, she flew over his head to try to get in that way. Hugh was following her with his gaze and realized at the same time as her, that thing was not a simple wall that had the sole purpose of making him get away from the people he loved.

That thing, that grey, hollow, and invisible thing, was a shell that impeded the people he loved to get closer to Hugh.

And Georgie was stubborn. Probably as much or more stubborn that Hugh was, even if she constantly was acting as if she weren’t. First, she proved her luck by kicking the shell into letting her in. Then, she used all the force in her body to try to crack it open. She got so desperate that started using her fists, punching and screaming his name, calling him “darling”, and imploring him to hold on a little longer.

The thing was… the thing was he didn’t want her to do that.

He didn’t know what she was feeling, but each time she kicked, she punched and she screamed, Hugh felt like his body was hurting. Not from the outside in, like he had heard physical pain felt, but from inside out; it was a pain that didn’t limit itself to his chest area, and went through all his body. He felt it in his legs, his face, and his arms, and gave him the sudden need to scratch it away. However, the aching shell was pretty similar to the real world, in the sense that when he did it, when he scratched his body in order to make the pain stop some way or another, his skin, and therefore his pain, didn’t react to it. It was as if he hadn’t even moved or made the most minimal effort to help himself.

Please, Georgie.

Please stop.

Please, please...

Please.

Just give up.

So Georgie fell to her knees, leaving bloody marks of her hands all over the shell. The small body of a girl grabbed her by the arm as if she wanted to hug her the same way Adrian hugged Hugh when he had a nightmare. A woman put her hand on her shoulder and quickly soothed her baby before she even started crying. Then, the man of the family wrapped his arms around the four of them, with a fearful but determined expression, that only brave people like him had.

She had heard him. She had given up on him.

The same way Simon, who didn’t stop watching the whole scene, had.

The same way he himself had.

Georgie tried to make him understand one last time.

You live in a beautiful world.

But she was wrong again.

Not about the part of the world being beautiful; it was about the part of her thinking Hugh didn’t already know that.

He did know the world he lived in was beautiful because the people who were part of it made it that way.

However, each time a happy moment occurred or a tragedy knocked at the door, it was as if Hugh wasn’t able to experience the happiness or the sadness that he was supposed to feel. When they cried, they laughed, or they yelled at him, their sobs, their smiles, and their screams felt real, but when he tried to imitate them, he felt like something that had come out from another planet pretending to be a human. Even those tears he was crying now, were more of a way his mind had found to fill the hole he had on his chest, while it waited for that weight to come and take its place.

Not like it was going to matter though. When the sun came up, all those imaginary ghosts will disappear. All the tears he had cried will dry, and all the aching he had felt will turn into the deepest of numbness.

He laid his head on the floor and grasped Simon's pillow tightly.

The next morning, he would feel no pain, in the same way, he would feel no comfort because that was part of being born with the powers he had.

But was there any point in living if you couldn’t feel anything?

***

The answer to that question was about to come to him when he was standing in the Arena, actually tearing up, after both sides of the battle had suddenly ceased fire.

He wasn’t able to see his family in the middle of the chaos, but for some reason, that didn’t scare him at all. The five of them were competent and strong, and they probably were also looking for him, so it was a matter of time and keep looking for them.

Also, this chaos— this chaos was nothing compared to what the Age of Anarchy had been.

He had been alive during the Age of Anarchy. He had experienced on first hand the horrors and the violence of it and had felt like there was no alternative but to roll with it, even if it was painful, horrible, and made him feel hopeless and small.

But then, he met them.

He met them, and the five of them were so full of light that they turned him into light too. The six got together and were able to bring hope into a world that had already given up on people like them, and constantly told them to do the same.

But what they didn’t know was that their secret was not to give up on each other.

They never gave up on each other, not even when one of those lights was gone.

Maybe she never really went anywhere. Maybe she had always been there. Maybe she was on their monthly dinners, in the internal jokes they still shared after all these years, and in the small gestures that reminded them they still love each other and they were still all in this together.

And she would have loved to see them like that.

She had been right about him being strong. But that wasn’t going to be the reason why he was going to be able to end with this chaos and why the Renegades were going to win in the end one more time. He was going to win because she was right when she said he was not only strong, but he was also vibrant, wonderful, valid, and most importantly, he was right. He was right that this world was worth protecting because life was full of moments and people that he would have never met if he weren’t alive to do it in the first place.

Hugh was alive. He was alive and he still could do something about it, to fix what was in his power to fix, and one of those things was himself and the mistakes he had made. There was nothing wrong with accepting what he had done wrong and in becoming a better person, not for others, but for himself.

There was nothing wrong with being alive.

He asked himself again.

Is there any point in living if you can’t feel anything?

But the answer slipped through his fingers. Because he was about to say it out loud, when something grabbed him and dragged him out of that dream, woke him up, and made him realize he was trapped inside a nightmare.

The helmet fell off Callum Treadwell's hands, and he fell on his back, covering his wound and trying to stop the hemorrhage.

He didn’t even bother to try to stop them when they grabbed Ace Anarchy’s helmet. He also didn’t tremble when they assured all of them had fought bravely, but now it was time for them to know fear, and he barely moved as he saw them turned into a phantom creature and soared like a bird of prey while he made his way to his master to give him the key to gaining back all the power he had previously lost.

Instead, he looked at Wonder, who now was with Nightmare, and then looked at his own boots, who also had the blood of numerous people he probably didn’t know.  

Or he did.

Maybe it was his family’s blood.

With the thought in mind, he started searching for their faces in a crowd full of people looking for their loved ones while trying not to get killed in the process. He didn’t have a lot of time to do it though, because as soon as he thought he had seen Simon, the sound of shackles springing loudly reached his ears, followed by the same voice saying:

“Master of Anarchy, rise again, and let us watch them fall.”

As soon as Ace Anarchy started to float upward, the arena began to shake. His powers grabbed each piece of the structure they could find and were used against the few Renegades who were still trying to fight back. The stand he had been gazing at was yanked up from the floor, and Ace Anarchy hurled it at where he was standing.

He threw himself on the ground to dodge it, and then, he turned to see Ace, who was already gazing at him with a condescending grin on his face.

He hadn’t tried to kill him. But he hoped he had.

Actually, he hoped Ace Anarchy killed him right there, and that he did it fast.

Because that would be a lot much easier than whatever the hell he was supposed to do at that moment.

A pair of white boots tripped with Hugh’s body. He had to blink twice to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination brought on by stress before turning to look at them and recognize Evander’s black superhero suit. At first, he thought he was going to say something like “Get up!” or “The fuck you’re doing on the ground?!” or a mixture of both, but instead, he just kicked the silver spear in his direction.

Hugh instantly grasped it. Evander gave him a small nod with the head before running towards Ace, and watching him getting closer and closer to him made something inside of Hugh move, giving him the strength he needed to get on his feet again and follow him.

As soon as he saw him throw a blinding strobe into Ace’s face, he knew what Evander wanted him to do.

Hugh took advantage of those few instants Ace gave them when he ducked his head and hurled his weapon at him.

Ace dodged it. Just for a few inches.

Hugh made eye contact with him.

Kill me.

Please.

Please.

Kill me. Right now.

And as if he had heard him, a grin appeared on his lips.

He directed the chains that had been used to contain the prisoners at what he thought it was him, and his whole body shriveled at the idea of their cold touch of the metal being the last thing his skin touched.

But Hugh had been wrong, and the chains wrapped Evander's torso and gagged his mouth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to get on his knees and beg him to spare Evander's life. He wanted to go feral, throw himself at him, and kill him in a way that made sure he dragged both of them directly to the hell he had been told by Ace he was going to when he died, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else when he was no longer there to protect ones who were left. He wouldn't care that it wasn't heroic of him to ask his worst enemy to end his life on the verge of tears and with a broken voice because it would be even less heroic of him to let the younger member of his family die this way.

He couldn't bear to let another person die instead of him. He couldn't.

He wouldn't be able to take it.

He wasn't strong enough.

Hugh glanced at Evander one last time, to let him know everything would be fine and that he was going to be the one who took his place. But when he realized Evander hadn't taken his eyes away from him, and terror had overtaken his entire face, the words, the begging, and the crying stayed in his throat, now completely unable to come out.

Ace flicked his fingers.

And in a blink, Evander wasn't looking at him anymore.

His scream didn't sound like him. It made his throat hurt and his entire body feel cold.

No.

No, no, no, no.

It was supposed to be him.

He was the one who should be dead right now.

And why wasn't he dead then?

Why were Evander and Georgie dead— and Hugh wasn't?

A pair of knees fell to the ground beside him. He turned around, mechanically, and he saw Kasumi, whose mouth was slightly open and her face had grown pale. Suddenly, instead of breaking down and crying like he thought she was about to do, she made her hands into fists, her jaw clenched, and after a blink, her eyes had turned into the bluest of blues he had ever seen.

Her scream was so guttural and so full of pain, she didn’t sound like her. Kasumi had never been able to make a wave that big out of nowhere in just one second and she had never used her powers with so much hate drawn all over her face full of tears that she didn’t seem to realize she was crying.

But with a simple flick of his wrist, Ace flipped the entire platform and created a barrier that protected him from the wave, breaking it and flooding the arena. Kasumi quickly tried to control the water to protect Evander’s corpse; he took advantage of that distraction to throw the platform at her.

And the only thing Kasumi could do was cry out and raise her arms to defend herself from the crushing weight that now was on top of her.

She didn’t even try to move or to run away. But he didn’t know if it was because it all happened so fast she didn’t have the time to do it—

Or because she simply didn’t want to.

Hugh looked up to the sky, searching for Tamaya. He expected to find her flying, keeping her distance, throwing bolts at her enemies, and when they were able to make eye contact, he would yell her name and ask her for help.

Not for him though.

For them. For Kasumi and Evander. Because each second that passed with Kasumi still under that platform, paralyzed and alone, and with Evander still at the mercy of whoever that passed and that could trip with him or kicked him, was a second that they were being—

Hurt.

But Hugh didn’t see her. She wasn’t anywhere he expected to find her, and he did his best to scan the whole sky, even if the little smoke that still remained in the area made it difficult for him to see.

Then, a dark thought clouded his mind.

Tamaya wasn’t reckless. Not anymore. She wouldn’t risk her life by staying on the ground, and she would know that the best way she would be able to help the rest of them was if she flew and got closer only in case they needed her help.

If she had stayed in the sky, she would have been able to see Evander blinding Ace with his powers. She would have seen Kasumi breaking down and her wave would have touched her wings. She would have known they needed her help long before Hugh did.

Then why wasn’t she there?

Why couldn’t he bring himself to lower his head and look for her in the ground?

Why was he so… numb?

Suddenly, Ace’s roar filled his ears. The villain had a knife buried on his left side, and when he tried to hit whoever had stabbed him, he wasn’t able to find them.

It wasn’t possible that someone had thrown a knife at him since the attack had clearly been from behind. And no one would be fast enough to get out of Ace’s reach and disappear before he realized he had been hurt.

Disappear.

And it was as if he could see him again. He was able to see him standing behind Ace, piercing him with his gaze, ready to push him, made him hit his face against the ground, and kill him himself. He could see his face—the face he had kissed thousands of times— contorted in anger even before his presence was revealed by Honey Harper, who screeched almost as if asking for his husband’s head, and sent every one of the creatures she had control over in his direction.

Simon cried in pain and, after flickering a couple of seconds, he curled into a ball, to protect his body from the bee’s dangerous stings.

An eerie beam of light flew over his head and made Honey Harper fall into a row of plastic chairs. Her bees suddenly lost interest in Simon and flew towards her, hearing their queen calling for someone’s name. When he looked around for whoever had attacked her, he recognized the Sentinel’s armor and noticed how he slowly lowered his arm, as if he couldn’t believe he had just shot someone right in the chest from that distance.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Leroy Flinn tossing a couple of Renegades who were about to attack him and running towards his ally to check on her as if he were one more of her bees who blindly followed her command. Ace watched the scene as the same time Hugh did, but instead of asking Cyanide if she was fine, or even trying to pretend he cared for her, he used his powers to pull his back out of his knife.

He pulled the knife out of his back, probably because he was too full of himself to realize that he could bleed to death if he did that.

Simon knew that. He would have done it himself if he only had time.

Simon knew a lot of things.

And Hugh saw in his eyes that he knew Ace was aiming at his throat when he threw his own weapon at him.

But before the knife touched any inch of Simon’s skin, a swarm of monarch butterflies covered him and Danna Bell used her forearm to knock it from the air.

The Renegades who were still on condition to fight started using their powers at maximum capacity to try to stop Ace Anarchy. Hugh began to walk around with his head low, looking for his weapon because that was the only thing the dark fog that made his body feel dizzy and his thoughts fuzzy allowed him to do.

Look for it.

Look for it, grab it, get up, and fight.

The spear was nowhere to be found. And Hugh didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

He wanted to lay on the floor. He wanted to lay on the floor with Tamaya, with Kasumi, and with Evander, close his eyes, and try to remember how he felt when they were kids and all of them slept together in the same giant bed. He would try to imagine the sound of their breaths and suffocate the yelling, the crying, and the screeching, to at least feel like he was falling asleep before someone came and finished the job for —not for Ace— but for him.

And if no one did, at least Hugh knew what he was going to do next.

His knees began to tremble and his feet refused to keep going. He saw the Silver Spear a couple of meters behind Ace. Maybe if he was able to get across those barriers Ace had built around him with his powers, he could use it.

He had never tried to use it to see if it could physically hurt him in a way that could potentially kill him.

But he could try.

Immediately after that, he noticed someone’s gaze was fixated on him. He looked at Ace but just at that moment, he was struck by a bolt of smoke, distracting himself by his own coughing.

Two hands covered with black gloves slightly touched his weapon and made it move towards him.

The same hands he had been wanting to hold for so long.

The same hands that belonged to the same person who hadn’t stopped looking at him after all this time.

Simon probably didn’t even notice what he did. When Hugh looked back at him, he wasn’t paying attention to him anymore; instead, he was trying his best not to keep slipping on the muddy ground while he stumbled his way out of there.

Simon was slipping through his fingers once again.

The difference was that this time when the Sentinel landed beside a kneeling Simon, hurt and full with stings on his face and neck, he knew he couldn’t let watching him go away be the last thing he did in his life.

Hugh didn’t like running after people when they decided to go because he would never want anyone to do it if it were him.

After all, leaving took a lot of strength. Someone following him would only make it so much harder.

And being the one who followed and was rejected at the end, was even worse.

But some people were worth following. Just one time. Just to make sure they really wanted to leave, or if they wanted to stay just as hard as one wanted them to.

Just so each other knew they haven’t given up on each other yet.

Because he would never give up on Simon; not even when Hugh had already given up on himself.

When he kneeled beside him, he just threw a glance at the Sentinel to try to figure out his intentions, but immediately centered all his attention on Simon.

The hell with the Sentinel.

“Simon, what happened?” he asked him, with his voice trembling as much as the ground did. “What’s wrong?”

And Simon—

Simon answered him.

“At least one of those hornets must have had Agent N—” their gazes met “—I’ve been neutralized.”

He bit his lips and lowered his head, almost as if he were apologizing for something.

But Hugh didn’t want him to apologize. He wasn’t the one who needed to do it.

That Simon was still his Simon. With or without powers.

Hugh put his arm around Simon. “We need to get you out of here. Can you stand?”

He expected Simon to flinch at his touch and ask him to get away from him as soon as he touched. What he didn’t expect was for him to completely ignore his question and his arm around him, and instead, ask him, “Have you seen Adrian?”

Hugh immediately tried to remember if he had seen him during the fight. But, to his horror, the last time he had seen Adrian had been the night he and his team discovered Nightmare’s true identity because he had been avoiding him during the last days.

Those things now seemed insignificant and petty compared with what was happening now.

First, he only shook his head, and while he helped him to get up, Simon’s eyes started to fill with tears. “We’ll find him,” he assured him. “He’s strong. He has to be fine.”

And it was a threat to the universe.

Simon tried to give a step, but his legs couldn’t hold the weight of his body, and he almost fell again. Hugh instinctively held him tighter. “I’m okay,” Simon quickly said, waving his hand. “It’s just…”

It’s just—

Hugh wanted to ask him: “It’s just what?”

But she hadn’t asked him that question. So he didn’t ask Simon either.

He did want an answer though.

And Simon was so good, he gave it to him.

“My whole body feels like it’s burning up from the inside out. Whatever venom those wasps have—”

Simon groaned and Hugh heard his words echoing in his mind.

Feeling.

At least you’re feeling.

You’re feeling, and that’s what matters.

Hugh tried to speak, but the Sentinel interrupted him before he could even say a word.

“Here, let me take him.” He frowned, and the Sentinel added, “You need to stop Ace Anarchy.”

He contemplated the Sentinel's armor, about to tell him to move and let him take his husband out of there.

Hugh didn't need to do anything.

The only thing he needed to do was to get Simon away from danger as quickly as possible.

But he would be lying.

Because deep in his heart, he knew he had to stop Ace Anarchy before he did anything else.

Not because he wanted to. It was because he had to.

That was the way it had always been.

He would like to hate the Sentinel for making that remark, but as soon as his eyes met with his helmet, he realized he had become one of those insignificant and petty things he couldn't believe had taken so much of his time.

And he had also saved Max.

Without him, Adrian wouldn't have had a little brother to kidnap, Hugh wouldn't have had two sons to worry about, and probably, a husband for the Anarchist to hurt.

“Thank you.”

He meant it.

He really meant it.

If the Sentinel smiled or felt something when he heard those words, he didn't show it. He moved towards them to help Simon put his weight on him, but as soon as he got close, he flinched and held Hugh tighter.

A lot more tighter.

With all his might.

Hugh looked him dead in the eye, and Simon did it too.

He would never forget how soft, yet determined, his voice sounded when he said those three words to him.

It was a plea and it was an order.

It was a question and it was an answer.

They were full of vulnerability and they were full of strength.

It was the first words he had really said to him in a long time but might as well become the last ones.

Simon said, “Don't get killed.”

Two realizations came to him at the same time.

The first one was that Simon's lips were slightly open after he said that.

And the second one was that he couldn't die yet.

Not because of the world. Not even because he was sure he wanted to keep living.

He needed to live because he had to find Tamaya to tell her he was sorry, even if he had to look for her on the ground. Because he needed to help Kasumi, ask her to forgive him too, and assure her she had been right all along. Because he needed to fulfill the silent promise he had made to Evander since the day he appeared on their life's door and protect him one last time.

He needed to see Max, hug him, and get him ready for bed.

He needed to talk to Adrian again and tell him he loved him, without him having to be the first one to do so.

And he needed to hold, touch, but above all, kiss the love of his life one more time, and make sure he would never again think Hugh didn't love him until his last breath, and that his last thoughts were all about him.

So he not only needed to live.

He had to live.

Just one last time, he had to live.

He had done it before; he would do it again.

“I'd like to see him try.”

***

The last thing Hugh saw before falling, was Adrian’s face.

And he looked small. Very small. And completely terrified.

He looked so terrified, that the few seconds he was falling, he could only think about all the horrible things Adrian and Max must be feeling, and not actually about what he was feeling.

But as soon as he realized that, he hit the ground.

At first, he did his best not to give up and stay awake for as long as possible. But he started wondering what Georgie felt when she fell from the sky. If she had looked like a shooting star. And he wondered if it was really her the one who appeared in front of him, wearing a golden cape. If it was really her when she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks without saying a single word, and kissed his forehead before getting up again and starting flying, and flying until he couldn’t see her anymore.

He also wondered if she would have been woken up by the pain had she survived the fall, just like he eventually did. If she would have also felt the instant relief everyone felt when they came to the realization that they were alive, just to immediately be followed up by guilt. Or what Georgie would have thought if she had stayed a little longer, just to ask him that one last time.

Where does it hurt?

Hugh would have told her the truth. Because of course he would have told her the truth. He would never lie to her. Not even when all he had done for the last ten years, had been lying to himself.

Everywhere.

It hurts everywhere.

She didn’t ask him anything though.

Not that he was mad at her for not doing so.

He just wondered what she would have thought.