#the one on my bottom right is okay... its decent... it actually grew out well enough but like-- it still has holes on it

[aria0fgold]

The human body needs to either unlearn wisdom teeth growth or learn an efficient way for wisdom teeth growth cuz I swear that thing grows SO POORLY. Wisdom teeth my ass, it aint got no wisdom at all!

[jaeminzie]

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

[ismokechurros]

misunderstandings - ao3

When his mark first appeared, he hated it. He was five and didn't quite like that the first thing he would ever hear his soulmate say would be

"I'm sorry."

What did that mean? Would his soulmate hurt him? Would that be the very first thing they did? That can't bode well for a long term relationship. 

Besides that depressing thought, another issue he had with it was how common it was. People apologized every day, how was he supposed to find her?

His first mistake was thinking it was his kindergarten teacher, who apologized after he ran into her feet. It was hard to explain to his parents why he got sent to the principal's office on his first day of school, hugging a teacher's leg and professing your undying love for them isn't exactly a common offense. 

After that, he tried not to get too excited when he heard those words. And as time went by, he succeeded. Slowly, his head stopped shooting up everytime someone near him apologized, his heart rate stopped skyrocketing when a passerby said sorry, he grew to feel the general disdain and doubt most feel in accompaniment with apologies. 

Those two, meaningless words scrawled at the top of his right bicep were left ignored and he went on forgetting they existed for the better part of 17 years.

----------

She was five when her mark appeared, too, though that seemed to be a common age for the mark's development so she wasn't exactly surprised. What she was surprised by was the 

"You're okay."

now sprawled on the bottom right side of her neck. An odd place for an odd mark. 

In her five-year-old indignation, she resented the fact that her mark was telling her what she was. She could be not okay if she wanted to be, who was her soulmate to tell her that she wasn't! 

A stupid fight to pick, and one she dropped after about two minutes. That was how long it took before the girl next to Nancy screamed and then started crying. Apparently, Amy didn't like that the first words her soulmate would say to her would be asking for her starbucks order. 

Nancy decided it could be worse.

---------

Working at The Claw can't be that bad, Nancy thinks as she enters the restaurant for her first day at work. She needs to get her mind off of her mother's death and making a few bucks in the process couldn't hurt. Plus, it would help ease the financial burden of college- if she still stood a chance of getting in, that is. Her senior grades (and attendance rate) weren't exactly "Columbia Material", no matter how good her essay was. 

Walking from the door to the back room, Nancy makes sure to take into account everything she sees on the way. Two truckers eating greasy cheeseburgers at the counter; a woman drinking coffee alone at a table; a family celebrating their daughter's graduation in a booth. Another reminder of the life Nancy won't get to lead.

Reaching up, Nancy rubs the side of her neck where she knows, under several layers of foundation, there's a reminder that she's okay. Her soul mark has grown to be something of a saviour for her these past couple months. A reassurance everytime it seemed her demons were getting a little too close to snuffing out her light, her crutch at her most debilitating moments. Nancy thinks, whoever her soulmate is, they must be a decent person if they’re able to give her this much comfort.

“Drew! Your uniform’s in the back, I’m not paying you to stand there and look pretty! You did enough of that in high school!” 

Ah yes, George. No matter how many times Nancy tries to proclaim her innocence, George refuses to believe she didn’t play a part in spreading the rumors that ruined her life in high school. And honestly, maybe she was right. Nancy may not have spread any rumors, but she definitely didn’t stop them. Maybe she does deserve George’s wrath. Besides, what’s another person added to the list of “People Nancy Drew Has Failed”. George can go right under her mom. 

At this rate, she might need to put more foundation on her mark.

“Now, Drew!”

Eh, she’ll do it at lunch.

-----------

One month in and Nancy thinks she’s got the job down pat. She’s at least doing better than some people. 

Dishes clatter in the kitchen as pots hit the floor. 

“Oops! Sorry!”

Speak of the devil. Nancy goes to the kitchen to help Bess, because Bess has needed nothing but help since the day George gave her the job, but when she opens the door she's met with a peculiar scene.

Bess, the endearing clutz she is, is on the floor trying to pick up the pots but somehow making a bigger mess. Ace, on the other hand, is just staring.

Nancy hasn’t known Ace very long, hasn’t even talked to him directly, but from what she’s seen he’s at least helpful. He cleans up after himself, stays late to do inventory, cleans out the grease traps, all without complaining. Yet here he is, staring at Bess on the floor and doing nothing.

Nancy wants to call out, ask why he isn’t helping, or at the very least say excuse me on her way to help Bess collect the pans, but oddly enough she can’t find the words. She just stares at him with that confused look on her face. 

It seems she doesn’t need to say anything, though. As if the question on her face was spoken aloud, Ace snaps out of his reverie and bends to help Bess. He’s smiling at her a little too much, and Nancy can tell where this is heading before he even opens his mouth. She decides to make a clean exit before she’s forced to watch him try and fail to shoot his shot with her royal waitress Bess.

------

Nancy just needs a minute. She needs a second to breathe. Serving her high school friends and having to listen to their patronizing and pitying tones while she can hear them laughing the second she turns around is not what she signed up for.

To make matters worse, she’s about one more rub away from her mark making its presence known and she doesn’t need the added stares today. She doesn’t quite understand the taboo of revealing your soulmark to others, but today may not be the best day to tackle generations worth of unnecessary forced modesty.

She rushes through the back door, the mocking sounds of laughter cut off as the door swings shut behind her. Apparently god isn’t on her side, though, because the second the door shuts, the freezer opens and Bess exits carrying boxes stacked a good foot higher than her. Boxes that topple over as she tries to close the freezer behind her.

Normally, Nancy would help Bess out. God knows she’s gotten used to it, and Bess is a nice enough girl that Nancy doesn’t totally hate doing it. But right now, the noise from the boxes is too loud and sounds suspiciously like laughter and Nancy can’t really breathe so she doesn’t think getting near the cold, thin air of the freezer is gonna help her.

And so she ignores Bess’ apologies and pleading eyes and instead barges through the backdoor, hoping to get some much needed air in the alleyway behind The Claw. Instead, she faceplants into a cotton cladded wall.

“I’m sorry.” 

She maneuvers around the person she ran into, avoiding eye contact and desperate for some space. She reaches the wall across from the door and puts a hand on the cool brick hoping it’ll help ground her. Leaning forward against the wall, the other hand immediately goes to her neck.

“You’re okay.”

Suddenly, struggling to breathe is less of an issue than not breathing altogether. 

Nancy slowly turns and stares at the man who she is destined to spend the rest of her life with.

Ace slowly blinks back.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. Nancy can’t really respond, considering the fact that she can’t breathe.

“Woah, Nancy. You don’t look so hot.” Great, my soulmate thinks I’m ugly. Nancy urges herself to use her actual brain for a second instead of whatever it is she’s using now because obviously that one isn’t working.

Still, she says nothing. Ace takes the silence as an invitation to lean against the wall across from her. They continue to stare at each other; her like a deer in the headlights and him entirely too mellow for someone who just found their soulmate. Unless he didn’t.

That’s not a thought Nancy wants to have. But now that it’s out there, she can’t stop thinking about it. Does it work like that? Can the whole soulmate thing go unrequited? Some memory escapes the precipes of her mind, a brief chapter on soulmate history she had to read for class. It was her senior history class, so she didn’t really pay attention, but she does remember reading something in there about a rare percentage of the population that had one sided soul marks.  She also remembers thinking about how sad of a life they must lead.

And it's not like she's wrong about this, especially since Nancy’s heart feels like it’s about to explode and she instinctively knows the only thing that can calm her down is standing there, staring at her with glazed eyes.

“Want one?” Ace asks, materializing a blunt out of seemingly thin air. “They always help calm me down.” 

Now the glazed eyes make more sense. Nancy reaches for it without thinking, the brief touch of their fingertips as the weed changes hands works wonders for calming her down. She is finally thinking a little clearer, breathing a little easier. She stands taller and some of the tension escapes her body.

“See? Works wonders for the nerves.”

If he wants to attribute her abrupt demeanor shift to his weed, she won’t correct him. Instead, she thinks about how this is the first real time he has talked to her. She wishes it happened sooner, his voice reminds her of waves crashing on the shore and when he talks she thinks she’s found her happy place. She’s never hated herself more.

Taking a hit, she passes the blunt back to him and relishes in the little contact that brings about. How lame is it that she’s pining for a guy who is destined to be with someone else. 

“You seem more relaxed now, if you wanted to talk about anything, I’m here.”

She does. She wants to talk about how she feels more  at ease and safe with him, here in this alleyway, than anywhere else; how she hasn’t felt peace like this since her mom died; how he has a calming effect on her that she wishes she could use like a drug; how she’s scared it might become one.

But she can’t talk to him about that at all, because she knows that though her soul finds peace with his, his soul fits better with someone else's. She doesn’t want to guilt him into any half-assed relationship, figures it would be better to become his friend and get to experience the safety and comfort he exudes at a safe arms-length away.

Instead, she talks about the ways everything has gone wrong in the past year (she avoids bringing up how he could have been her first right thing in a while). He listens as he smokes through the whole blunt, his eyes getting heavier as she continues. She’s confident he won’t remember anything tomorrow, thankful she won’t have to explain her near-meltdown. But above all-else, she’s sad. She really is doomed to go through life alone, she doesn’t get anyone to help shoulder her pain. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it.

When she finishes her sob story, he thanks her for sharing it with him. She nods but doesn’t say anything, afraid of what she might reveal if she opens her mouth again.

“DREW!” An angry George calls from inside.

“That’s my cue.” She makes to leave but is stopped by an arm on her hand. She tries to ignore her heart screaming.

“Hey, I really liked talking to you. We haven’t really done that before.”

She nods, trying to make it seem like she just doesn’t want to talk and not like she physically can’t (not while he’s touching her).

He doesn’t let go, though. Instead, he stares at her with more consciousness in his eyes than she thought he would be capable of by now. 

“You’re not alone. I don’t know why, but I feel like you need to hear that.” His voice is soft and quiet and warm, low tide at sunrise.

Nancy’s eyes widen (though her heart warms) and he let’s go. She heads inside without another word, hand rubbing her neck on the way in.

Nancy decides to invest in neck ties.

[inliar]

timing

word count: 5.3k

jinhwan x reader

you have the uncanny knack of running into kim jinhwan exactly when he needs it. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued.

a/n: support ikon on kingdom!

-

the first time you meet him, it’s at your friend’s debut stage. once upon a time, you and your friend, yerin, had been trainees together in a decently small company. but while her skills only grew over time, morphing into something fascinating and breathtaking that deserved to be shown to the world, yours had stagnated. it wasn’t for lack of effort – you had put just as many hours into dance and vocal lessons as the others –  but it was, probably, for lack of passion.

at some point, you had stopped emphasizing with your fellow trainee’s heartfelt speeches on their dreams of debuting, and it was around then that you realized you weren’t meant to be an idol in the same way they were. it was alright, though, because if anyone out of the two of you deserved to debut, it was her. you’d never felt any regret after terminating your short trainee agreement with your label.

but your friendship had never ceased, and you’d kept in regular contact with yerin, as well as the other trainees set to debut in the rookie group. you often took to reminding them to eat their meals, or to take breaks in between lessons, because you’d experienced first-hand how thoroughly unchecked passions can blind a person to their obvious needs. 

finally, their efforts had culminated into a debut, and you wouldn’t miss their first stage for the world. their manager, minseo (who, in a different timeline, might have been your manager as well) was kind enough to let you visit them face-to-face in their waiting room for the music program.

“nervous?” you ask, taking in yerin’s brightly-coloured romper and her bleached, curled, strands of hair. it’s such a far departure from the tracksuits and messy ponytail you’d often seen her sporting during early morning dance practices, but it somehow suits her better than anything else you’d ever seen her wear.

“excited.” she responds instead, with a frightening degree of certainty. it must be nice, you think, to have something you want so desperately and unfalteringly. but watching your best friend get to live out her dreams is almost just as nice.

you nod, feeling the corners of your lips quirk up. “have i ever told you how proud i am of you?” you say, lightheartedly, suppressing the urge to ruffle your hand over her well-styled hair.

“no, but since it’s coming from you, i know you mean it.” she says with such sincerity that you feel an unexpected surge of pride lodge itself into your chest. 

you clear your throat. this won’t do. she hasn’t even performed yet and you’re already turning into a sentimental mess. “i’m going to go get myself something to drink,” you say, excusing yourself. “do you want anything?”

her eyes brighten. “ooh, can i have an orange soda?” she asks, before pausing and turning around. “wait, manager-nim, am i allowed to drink soda before a stage?”

minseo tears her eyes away from her phone and straightens up. “as long as it’s not something that will rapidly stain your teeth, it should be fine. are you thirsty? do you need me to get you something?”

you pipe up. “oh, it’s fine, i can get it. you should stay with the group, unni, you’re the manager.” then, you raise your voice and direct it towards the rest of the girls. “hey, guys, i’m getting yerin a drink from the vending machine. does anyone else want anything?”

“oh, can i have a canned coffee?” you hear one of the members – jiyoung’s – voice ask.

“me too!” hyemin’s voice adds.

“vitamin water, please!” mirae’s voice calls.

you tally the drinks up in your head. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. you hold up an ‘okay’ sign with your hand and nod. jiyoung jokingly salutes in return.

“can i pay you back?” minseo offers, pulling out a credit card that most definitely won’t work on the rickety vending machines you’d seen on your way to the waiting room.

you shake your head dismissively. “it’s just a couple of drinks, and besides, i have a ton of coins i need to get rid of. you can buy me a meal later, yeah?” you offer, and minseo nods. “at this rate, i’ll have to hire you as my assistant.” she jokes, lightheartedly, and you smile. you wouldn’t mind that at all.

you recite the list of drinks to yourself as you make it out of their waiting room and towards the vending machine. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. two ca—

thud.

the small sound shakes you out of your mantra and, instinctively, you turn towards the noise. judging by the obvious frustration radiating from the person in front of you and his relative position to the vending machine, you figure he just kicked the poor thing.

“are you alright?” you ask, tentatively, and the person in question turns to face you. 

oh. it’s kim jinhwan. from ikon.

you try your hardest to suppress a smile. yerin loves ikon. she’d be so jealous to know that you ran into one of the members today, and in such an innocuous way at that.

“yes, sorry.” jinhwan offers, looking almost sheepish. “the machine stole my money, and-”

almost on cue, you hear a voice call out in the distance. “hurry up, hyung! you said it’d only take a few minutes!”

jinhwan’s expression instantly sours, and you nod in understanding. “what did you try to get, sunbaenim?” you ask politely, turning towards the machine and scanning its contents.

“just an energy drink. but i guess i’ll be fine without it.” he explains, trying a little too hard to sound lighthearted and unbothered. 

you identify the drink in question and punch in its code. after feeding your coins into the machine, you watch as the suddenly functional appliance pushes the energy drink out of its row and into the bottom of the machine.

squatting, you grab the drink and hold it out. “please, take this.” you offer as you stand up, suddenly noticing how heavily the foundation under his eyes is applied. you inwardly frown. he must really need the boost. “it’s the one you wanted, right?”

he doesn’t take it, instead opting to stare at it instead. “i couldn’t, i don’t have any more change on me right now.” he says, despite eyeing the drink longingly.

“hyung! we have to go!” the voice from before calls out again, insistently. he turns towards the voice before turning back to you, conflicted. you put on what you hope is a reassuring smile before pushing the drink with a little more force into his hands. instinctively, he takes it.

“please don’t worry about it, it’s just a drink. good luck with your stage, sunbaenim!” you cheer, gently. 

he looks at the drink, then looks at you, then glances behind him at what you presume to be his waiting room before looking at you again.

“jinhwan hyung!” the voice demands with an intimidating undercurrent of finality, leaving no more room to stall. you tilt your head towards it meaningfully.

“i.. thank you.” he finally says, tightly, before turning around and running away. satisfied, you turn towards the vending machine. what did your friends ask for? right, two canned coffees, an orange soda, and vitamin water. you punch the drink codes in, methodically inserting all of your loose change you had been trying to get rid of for so long, and add an extra coffee in for minseo for good measure. if she’s going to make good on her dinner promise, and you know she will, she should get a little something in return.

(you would have gotten her something even if you didn't coerce her into buying you food. a part of you thrives at the feeling of taking care of others, and you dimly wonder if that means anything.)

-

the next time you meet him is yet another case of being in the right place at the right time, for lack of a better phrase. 

you’d spent a good portion of your school days active as a trainee. so, when you’d eventually exited the entertainment industry, you were strikingly behind all the other students your age in the cruelly competitive system that was korea’s education system. you were planning on taking a gap year to figure out exactly what you wanted to do with the rest of your life (which was generally frowned upon, as students were expected to naturally know these things), but minseo had saved you from that fate. “since the girls have been getting a little bigger recently, i’ve been given the permission and the budget to hire an assistant manager.” she had explained through a spontaneous phone call, her voice crackling over the receiver as you shifted your cellphone to your other ear. “if i can trust anyone to care for them the way that i do, it’s you.”

“will it be okay?” you had asked, not against the proposition but not wanting to get her in trouble. “i have no managerial experience, and i’m in the same age range as the members. i don’t want the company to come off as unprofessional.”

she had reassured you that you wouldn’t be working on anything that she wouldn’t teach you to do first, and that, as long as you didn’t boast about your age, it would be fine. “i was allowed to write the hiring criteria, and if you just happen to be the perfect candidate, then so be it.” she had said, and you could almost imagine the conspiratorial wink she would have shot in your direction if you were talking face to face.

and so your reentrance to the entertainment industry had begun; except this time, you were on the other, more secluded, side of the stage. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered being a manager before; you’ve always been the type to take care of others, and when minseo had joked about taking you on as an assistant before, a secret part of you had taken it a little too close to heart. but you had never actually expected her words to become a reality.

the job isn’t too hard to pick up. you’re assigned a lot of small yet useful tasks, like calling the salons and confirming hair appointment times, or writing the minutes for meetings about comeback concepts. sometimes, your only role for the day is simply coaxing minseo unni into stopping and taking a lunch break. you’re busy, for sure, but not yet at the juggling-octopus level of the senior manager, who is somehow able to coordinate every other task and responsibility that involves the group simultaneously and all without fail. while you just have to confirm the things she’s already set up, she has to do all the preparation work.  you’ve seen her meticulously arrange and assign each member’s schedules, all the while keeping an eye on album sales and concert venues and security payroll and feedback from their vocal or dance instructors. just by looking at her essay of a to-do list that’s propped up on her desk, you understand why the company gave her the permission to hire an assistant.

the most important responsibility she had given you, however, was to be the first line of contact with the members of the group. “you know them better than i do, so i think you’d do a better job of helping them out. they’re not too fussy, so it shouldn’t be too hard to work with them? just keep an eye on the members, and check on them every now and then. of course, let me know if you need any extra help.” a very harried minseo had told you, while on hold with the videography company who, annoyingly, hadn’t confirmed what time they were coming in tomorrow to film the dance video for the group’s upcoming comeback.

“yes, of course.” you had replied, fully intending to not do just that. you were going to avoid adding any responsibilities to minseo unni’s workload at all costs.

there wasn’t much that you needed to do. occasionally, you needed to get the members drinks or snacks while they were in their waiting rooms before music show performances, or make sure that they checked in with you before they went out anywhere. to help with this, you had gotten into the habit of carrying a backpack with you at all times, fully stocked with the necessities: an assortment of the member’s favourite snacks, an epipen for hyemin’s peanut allergy tucked in a small first aid kit, extra hair elastics, pads and tampons, and various sets of phone chargers. 

“you’re already, like, one of those overprepared asian mothers that carries everything in her massive purse, and you’re barely an adult.” yerin had snickered one day while you reorganized your bag in their dorm.

you had grinned, teasingly pushing her away. “it’s this overprepared asian mother that has your precious pocky at hand, so watch it.” you’d warned, shaking the snack box in the air. 

“don’t shake it!” yerin had yelped, cradling the cookie sticks protectively against her chest. “you’ll break them.”

it was the last week of promotions for the group’s third mini album, and you had just finished supervising the stage hands as they finished setting up the stage. satisfied, you grab your backpack from the chair it was lounging on, thank them for their hard work, and beeline for the exit, wondering if you can run into the girls before they get called down for their pre-stage interview.

“—ust going to have to wait, we don’t have any on hand right now.” you hear a gruff sounding voice say, and subconsciously, you look towards the source of the noise.

just across the hallway from you is what appears to be a very tall manager and a very short idol, judging from the casual apparel the taller is wearing and the shiny, glittery jacket the shorter one has on. the one in the glittery jacket is clutching at his shoulder in obvious discomfort. 

“how long do you think it will take?” the shorter asks, letting go of his shoulder and rolling it back, and you’d recognize that voice anywhere. yerin had recently been studying his stage habits by watching his fancams on repeat, and at this point, his voice was engraved in the back of your mind. it’s jinhwan, again. (“i can’t believe you got to meet jinhwan sunbae before i did,” yerin had pouted when you had told her about your previous encounter. “but why did you call him sunbae? he’s not technically your senior anymore.”

“so i used to be a trainee, and old habits die hard. sue me.” you had defended yourself, protectively, before making a mental note to stop doing that.)

“i’m not sure. i’m not supposed to leave the shooting site, and no one else has answered my calls yet. do you think you’ll be able to do the stage without a patch?” the manager asks.

the idol who you now recognize as jinhwan winces, and you take that as your cue to dig through your bag. after finding what you’re looking for, you take a nervous breath and walk towards the pair.

“hello,” you greet tentatively, bowing. the two of them turn to face you, and politely bow back. you don’t miss the way jinhwan’s face grimaces ever so slightly as he does so.

“i’m really sorry if i’m being invasive, but i happened to hear what was going on.” you start. at that, you offer him the pair of pain-relief patches you were clutching securely with both of your hands. “please, take these.”

the two of them pause, taking a second to read the upside-down text on the packaging. in hindsight, you probably should have held it so the text was facing them. “won’t you need them?” the manager asks, eventually looking back up at you.

you shake your head in denial, eyes wide. “no, no. i always have extras in my bag. besides, the ones my members use most often are the ankle patches, so i won’t miss these.” you explain, taking a short, meaningful glance at jinhwan’s shoulder before pushing the packages into his manager’s hands. 

he takes them. “thank you,” he says, gratefully, and you smile. 

“yes, of course.” you reply, taking another quick glance at jinhwan. he’s staring at you, expression carefully blank, but, upon making eye contact. he bows his head. “thank you,” he says as well, and you pause. there’s something in his tone that sounds off, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. 

you don’t have time to stand there and think about it, though, because your group is going to get called down for their interview any minute now. and while you don’t technically have to be there, minseo said that it would be a good idea for you to monitor them. “just so you can get used to your job,” she had said, and you agreed. it would be entirely selfish to back out on that now, just to stand and meaninglessly analyze a person you had no connections with.

“i … have to go now.” you begin, tentatively, ignoring the pressing feeling in the pit of your stomach thats begging you to stay and figure out what feels so wrong. “good luck on your stage, sunb- i mean! jinhwan-ssi, and i hope your shoulder feels better.”

you bow, reflexively, trying your best not to make a weird face out of embarrassment, and jinhwan bows back. “thank you, again.” he reiterates, and you turn to leave.

it’s only after you’re absolutely sure that you’re out of their line of view before you let yourself cringe. sunbae? you tried to call him sunbae? you really, really, need to get out of that habit. what kind of interaction was that?

‘but is he okay?’ a smaller, more insistent, voice in the back of your head asks, and you frown. you don’t know. 

- 

in between your last memorable encounter and the next one, you see him a few times. your group passes by him in a few music programs, you run into their group at a hair appointment, and a few other miscellaneous encounters as such naturally occur. but you never interact. as a manager, it’s not your job to play buddy-buddy with other idol groups, especially if they’re not even in your company. you’ve always done a very good job of staying out of the spotlight, and, as a manager, most people don’t spare you a glance. jinhwan doesn’t even look in your direction.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed.

the third time you meet him is not, for once, at a music program. you’re in hapjeong-dong, meaning to visit a friend who’d recently moved into the area. but she’d last-minute changed her housewarming party time to a dinner party instead of a lunch meetup. by the time you’d got the memo, you were already halfway across seoul on the subway. since you hadn’t eaten anything yet, and you no longer had lunch plans, your first stop is at the first ramen shop you see after you exit the terminal.

“i’m afraid we’re a little full at the moment, ma’am, and the only seats available are at the counter. will that be alright?” the hostess asks, smiling warmly.

“yes, that’s great.” you say, and you let her escort you to the counter and hand you a menu. you prop up your purse and your housewarming gift on the chair next to you before taking it, thanking her.

as you’re flipping through the menu, mentally calculating how much more you’ll be able to spend this month, you hear the tinkling of the bell at the front door signalling another customer. a cursory glance around the relatively full counter area lets you know that there’s only one seat left, and you’re hogging it with your bags. you quickly take them off the only available chair and bend down to set them on the ground below your feet.

“... and here you go, sir, i’ll be back with a menu shortly.” the bubbly hostess says, smiling politely at the customer whose face you haven’t seen yet. you straighten up, taking a quick look at the hostess and the customer before turning back to look at your menu. 

“yes, thank you,” the customer says, and you freeze. you must be hearing things. there is no way that you are eating lunch next to kim jinhwan in a random restaurant.

the customer sits down next to you, and you shoot another quick look at the man who is taking off his mask. who is most definitely kim jinhwan. 

do you … do you say anything? idols deserve to eat in peace, so should you pretend not to recognize him? but won’t sitting in a stony, awkward silence as you eat next to each other be even worse? you contemplate burying yourself in your phone for the entire meal, before realizing that you left it in your purse. and there’s no feasible way that you can grab it without having to scoot back your chair, get off the stool to open your bag, and sit back up on it again. 

unfortunately for you, he looks in your direction as you’re gaping at him, panic-struck. the resulting eye contact is unbearably awkward on your end, but he looks at you as if he’s trying to remember who you are.

“pardon me, but are you the one who … with the pain-relief patch?” he asks, gesturing slightly with his hands as he sits dodwn. it’s vague and awkward, and if he did that to anyone else they’d be very confused, but you know exactly what he means.

you blush a little. there’s nothing else you can say now. “yes, uh, i think that was me.” 

“and … the vending machine?” he ventures.

your eyes widen a little at that. that was so many months ago. he still remembers? “the energy drink, right? that was also me. hello, jinhwan-ssi.” you offer, tentatively, bowing your head slightly. at this point, there’s no use pretending you don’t know his name. he bows his head in return.

“may i ask for your name?” jinhwan asks, tentatively.

“oh, ah, i’m ______.” you respond. “it’s nice to meet you, officially.” 

jinhwan nods in agreement, seemingly taking in all the new information for a few seconds. after a short pause, he continues. “do you also work in the entertainment industry?” he asks, slowly. 

“yes, i’m an assistant manager for kyubie, a new girlgroup at AB entertainment,” you introduce yourself. it still feels a little strange to say that title out loud. assistant manager. you’re an assistant manager.

“ah, i see.” jinhwan says, smiling a little as he processes the information, and you politely smile back. a part of you wants to help him carry this conversation out, but the other, more dominant part of you is just as socially awkward as he looks like he feels and is absolutely incapable of doing such a thing.

“you look quite young for a manager,” he offers, as an odd semblance of a compliment, and you take it in stride.

“i get that a lot! i actually used to be a trainee at AB, but i ended up becoming a manager inst!—ead …” you start, mouth running itself as it struggles to fill the awkward silence, before you register what you just said. 

“i, uh, i wasn’t supposed to say that.” you mutter, loudly enough so its audible but quietly enough to express your regret.

jinhwan, for what it’s worth, only looks placidly amused. “don’t worry, i won’t say a word,” he assures you. he doesn’t ask for any more details or for an elaboration on why it would be a secret. you’re grateful for that.

“thank you,” you say, trying not to let the relief show itself too heavily in your tone. if he notices it, he doesn’t say a word.

“i should be thanking you. for the drink and for the pain-relief patches, before. i don’t think i could have done my stage without either.” he assures you, kindly. “i didn’t get to thank you properly before.”

you shake your head in denial. “no, no, don’t worry about it. i get what it’s like to always be running low on time. and you did say thank you! i didn’t feel underappreciated, or ignored, or anything like that.” you explain, letting out your first real smile since the beginning of the conversation. 

(you miss the way his eyes linger on it for a beat too long.)

“i’m glad that you think that, then,” jinhwan says, faintly, as the hostess comes back with his menu that he barely even scans before ordering. you, too, order, ignoring the meaningful glances she’s throwing at the two of you. that’s a misunderstanding that can be resolved in the unlikely chance it becomes an issue.

“so,” jinhwan starts, “tell me about your group.”

and you’re gone.

conversation flows surprisingly easily once the two of you find your common ground. as a manager and as a friend, you have a lot to tell him about your members and how they act. “one of them, my friend, actually, she’s a really big fan of yours.” you mention, offhandedly. you’ve gone long past the point where you’re trying to filter yourself. 

“is that so?” he asks, calmly, and you grin.

“yeah. she was really jealous when i told her that i met you before,” you laugh, “and she’ll probably be a little bit jealous that i met you again today.”

“what about you?” he asks, and then looks a little bit startled. almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“i’m sorry?” you ask, despite knowing perfectly well what he’d meant to say. you do your best to not blush.

jinhwan, having seemingly decided to just go with it, smiles. “are you a fan of mine, too?” he asks, and oh, your cheeks are not supposed to feel this hot.

“i, uh—” you flounder, trying to think of a way to answer this professionally, before a strangely brave crevice of your mind tells you to be honest.

“before? i don’t know. but now? probably.” you admit, which is good enough for jinhwan.

he doesn’t push it (probably because you looked like a tomato just then and he wants to save your blood pressure), and instead steers the conversation back to your life as a manager and his funny anecdotes in the entertainment industry. for someone who is so soft spoken and looked so thoroughly awkward when you first met, he tries incredibly hard to keep the conversation flowing and comfortable. you’re half in awe at his easy going nature.

you eat slowly once you get your food, selfishly wanting the conversation to last longer, but eventually there are no more noodles left in your plate and half of the lunchtime rush has already cleared out. jinhwan excuses himself to pay, asking you to watch his jacket, and you grab your purse and your housewarming gift from the floor while you wait. your phone tells you that it’s been nearly two hours since you entered the restaurant, and you must have suddenly forgotten how to read time, because there’s no possible way you had spent that long talking with jinhwan.

he eventually comes back. he puts his mask on and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, and you take that as your cue to head to the payment counter. “i’m here to pay for my order,” you say, pulling out your wallet, and the checkout man shakes his head. 

“you’re already paid for,” he explains, and you frown. “pardon me?” you ask, unsure if you heard him right.

“the gentleman who sat next to you has already paid for your meal,” he clarifies, and you stand there for a moment.

“are— are you sure?” you ask, confusedly. the checkout man nods. “here’s the purchase receipt if you want to be sure.”

the sound of the front door bell tinkling draws your attention, and you turn to see jinhwan’s figure leave the shop. “thank you!” you exclaim hurriedly to the counter, mindlessly stuffing the receipt in your left pocket before booking it out of there.

by the time you get to the outside of the shop, jinhwan is a good ten meters away. “jinh—!” you start, and then stop. yelling an idol’s name in public is most definitely not a good idea. 

you’ve never been the most active, but you run after him anyway. thankfully, he’s not making an effort to run away from you, because you wouldn’t be able to catch up with him then. 

eventually, you catch up with him as he’s waiting for a pedestrian walkway to turn green. “jinhwan-ssi!” you call, furtively, and the man in question turns around to face you.

" ______.” he says, curiously. “what are you doing here?”

“you paid for my meal.” you state, and he looks at you like it’s obvious. 

“yes, i did.” he says, frowning a little. the pedestrian walkway turns green. he doesn’t make any effort to move.

“can i pay you back?” you ask, hand instinctively going towards your wallet in your right pocket.

he laughs a little at that. “why would you pay me back? this is my thank you for the favours you did for me.”

“you don’t have to pay me back! i did those things because i could. besides, a vending machine drink and a pain-relief patch costs much less than a meal.” you argue.

“then, consider it like i’m doing this because i can.” he counters, and its very hard to object to your own logic.

“can i at least buy you coffee or something as thanks?” you ask, as the pedestrian walkway turns red once more. 

at this, jinhwan pauses, before he sighs. “i have vocal practice in half an hour, so i can’t right now. but—” he continues, seeing the look of disappointment you already knew was on your face, “did you get the receipt from the checkout guy?”

“the what?” you ask, confused.

his face pales. “oh no, did you not take it?” he asks, suddenly looking scared, and you remember mindlessly snatching the receipt from the checkout man’s hands. you clumsily pat through your pockets a little before pulling a slip of paper out from your left pocket. “no, i have it,” you say, holding it up, “but why?”

jinhwan sighs. “turn it over,” he says, and you do.

in pen, a phone number is scribbled over the back of the receipt. “jinhwan,” it says in neatly printed letters next to it, and you fight back the urge to smile. you probably do a terrible job of it, too.

“text me when you’re free, and we can do coffee sometime, yeah?” jinhwan offers. you can’t see his face well because of his mask, but the tips of his ears are red. it’s stupidly endearing.

“i will,” you promise, because how could you say no to that?

the walkway light turns green once again. jinhwan waves as he crosses the street, and you wave as you stay behind. its only after you’re absolutely, positively sure that he’s out of sight that you let yourself grin, burying your too-hot face into your hands. 

if you just played your cards right, you have a date with kim jinhwan.

-

(you text him the very same day, and make plans for coffee the next week.

you treat him to crepe cakes and lattes, and he pouts, claiming that the crepes were too much and now he just has to take you out to make up for it.

before you can tell him that no, it’s fine, it’s your treat, he has movie tickets for two booked and emailed to your account.

you agree to go, but only if you get to buy the popcorn.)

[serendipityunho]

Fire & Flames

× genre: smut, fluff, college au × pairing: badboy!Hongjoong x Reader (fem.) × word count: 5.9k × warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, oral, clit play, slight choking, pull-out method, hand kink, praising, explicit sex

× synopsis:You never expected to fall into the arms of the notorious bad boy of the campus, Hongjoong, after getting locked out. But yet again, he never expected for you to end up in his arms either. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘Come to the party’, they said. 

‘It’ll be fun’, they said.

If only you knew you’d be walking home barefoot, holding your heels in your hands in this cold midnight. To begin with, the party wasn’t even that fun. People got high, people got fucked, people got knocked out. When was there anything new?

It was like any other college party, but with more beer kegs this time and Wooyoung didn’t get too wasted, which was an achievement. You never knew how people didn’t get so bored after the first hour of being surrounded by sweaty drunk bodies and actually not worry about being in the danger zone of being vomited on. 

Your best friend had already fucked off with some guy at the party, leaving you with the set of apartment keys since you had dropped them down the drain a few days ago. She was already too wasted to give you a lift home before tending to her businesses with whoever she caught, now you’re shivering down the street with your feet so numb you could barely feel the pain of the gravel stabbing at the bottom of your feet.

The apartment building wasn’t too far from sight, it was only a minute walk before you found yourself standing at the entrance with the flashlight on your phone on as you fumbled with the keys. Wait.

“Fuck!” You wish you were seeing things, anything other than the fact that you were holding the wrong set of keys. None of these belonged to you. 

Your best friend had given you the wrong keys, and you were too homesick to even bother checking them before leaving the party. Great. Now you were locked outside with a nearly dead phone and frozen feet. 

“Come on, come on, pick up” It felt like forever before the robotic voice answered, sending you straight to voicemail as you sighed in defeat. 

5%

You wouldn’t have found yourself in this predicament if only you had listened to yourself and stayed home instead of allowing yourself to be dragged to that god awful party. You couldn’t even think properly with your constant shivering as you sink to the floor, ass getting cold from the pavement. 

There was always Jongho who didn’t live too far. No, he’s probably at a boxing match tonight. Or Yeosang. Eh, probably in a chicken coma with his girlfriend. 

Another sigh left your lips, hot breath evaporating into the cold air as you hugged yourself not that it would make a difference to your warmth. You didn’t want to go back to that party, not when people were finally starting to throw up on each other and couples occupying the bedrooms. 

Everything but the 7/11 beside the abandoned warehouse, and the bar was open, all other warm and cozy places were closed dark. The 7/11 looked empty, and that was the problem. You didn’t want the cashier’s eyes on you the entire night suspecting you of stealing shit. The bar it is.

You lift yourself off the cold steps of your apartment building before patting whatever residue was on your dress. A grimacing look took over as you looked down at your heels. You really didn’t want to wear it again unless you wished for your feet to stop working the next day. At least look decent before entering.

With every step, your feet felt like they were on complete fire. You were bound to collapse at any given moment. 

Just. A. Few. More. Steps.

The neon sign beamed brightly, almost making your eyes ache at the sight as you pushed through the entrance. A subtle buzz surrounded you almost instantly as your eyes land on the pool table then onto the bar with only a few drinking.

It was definitely much warmer than you expected it to be. But it was more than enough. 

“First time at a bar?” Your eyes stopped looking around and shot to the bartender in front of you, wiping the surface with a cloth before swinging it over his shoulder.

“It’s that obvious huh?” You place your clutch onto the counter before taking a seat on the stool, sighing in relief as your sore feet take another break from walking in heels.

“Very. Would you like a drink?” 

“Um, a martini would be nice, thanks” Money shouldn’t be used recreationally right now. But, a drink was needed in order to keep your cool.

“So what’s a girl like you doing here so late?” The bartender didn’t look up as he started mixing your drink, ice shackling inside the shaker.

“I got locked out because my roommate gave me the wrong keys and now she won’t pick up” 

“Have you tried calling her again?”

“No, my phone is about to die” The glass filled with the beverage pouring out from its shaker as the bartender pushed the drink towards you.

“There’s a payphone over there if you have any change left” 

“Yeah, if I had change left, thanks though” 

Another customer appeared in the corner of your eye, sitting down just one seat away from you. You could sense a burning gaze in the side of your head as you kept looking down, stirring your drink with the little toothpick you got with the olive.

“What made you come here?” From the very first word spoken, you immediately knew who it was. 

“That’s none of your concern, Hongjoong” You were met with a well-known smirk the moment you turned your body to the blonde-haired man.

You weren’t surprised to find Hongjoong at a place like this. It fits in well with his rough agenda anyways. That is, being the boy most parents warned their daughters about and the boy many others either despised out of jealousy from stealing the attention of girls they tried too hard to get.

“It’s quite concerning to see you at a bar so late. Did something happen that finally drove you out of the house?” Hongjoong chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he smirked.

“The only thing that drove me out of the house was a promise that my roommate would do all the housework for a week if I went to this party with her” 

“But?”

“But this idiot gave me the wrong keys when I left and now I’m locked out with a dead phone while she’s off fucking some random guy” You scoffed, downing the rest of your drink before fidgeting with your fingers.

“Do you want to use my phone?” Hongjoong reaches for his back pocket, slinging out his black phone before unlocking it.

“No point, she hasn’t picked up any of the other fifty calls I left her” A flash of empathy washed over Hongjoong’s face as he remained silent, nodding his head subtly as you turned back around.

Maybe if you didn’t spend the most of your money on this martini, you’d be able to snag a cheap motel room for the night. Or perhaps some slippers instead of torturing yourself in these heels.

“You could... stay at my place if you’d like? Just until your friend comes back of course” Those were the words you never expected to leave Hongjoong’s mouth. 

“I don’t want to trouble you” 

“Well, where else are you going to go?” Nowhere. 

You were quite surprised that Hongjoong, out of everyone, had offered you a place to stay for the night. Many would think he’d just snicker and walk away from the looks of him. But on this night, he doesn’t look that uptight as usual.

“You’re right. I guess it’s better than nowhere” You sighed before reaching for your clutch, pulling out a few crumpled pieces of cash to leave at the bar.

“C’mon, you look tired as fuck” That was nice to know. 

You followed Hongjoong out the bar, standing in front of what seems to be his motorcycle. It was sleek and black, you saw him ride it to campus every day, zooming out the parking lot in a flash as people admired behind their books.

“Thanks” You take the helmet from Hongjoong’s hand before slipping it over your head, adjusting it before swinging a leg over the motorcycle.

“Hold on tightly” Hongjoong revved the engine as you snaked your arms around his waist.

“You trust yourself without a helmet?” 

“Do you trust me?” Hongjoong turned his head slightly, letting you catch a glimpse of his eyes. 

“Well, I’m going home with you aren’t I?” You wrap your arms tighter around his waist, lifting your feet off the ground as he does the same.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest at any moment as the wheels on Hongjoong’s motorcycle started moving. You were immediately hit with the cold air once again, goosebumps rising along your arm as you clutched tighter onto Hongjoong.

The neons lights of shops along the street passed by in a blur as Hongjoong sped down the street. It didn’t feel as cold as before, maybe because you were literally hugging someone.

Hongjoong slows down at a set of traffic lights, making your grip on his abdomen loosen as your heart calms down from the adrenaline. Hongjoong’s icy blonde hair glistened under the light, it looked miraculously soft and silky. You lowkey just wanted to run your hands through them.

“Scared?” Hongjoong kept his eyes on the road as he spoke up.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re hugging me like a koala”

“Okay, maybe a little bit” To be completely honest, you were scared for him too. Riding this death machine without a helmet is ballsy. 

“You can trust me” Now that was another thing you’ve never expected to hear from him.

You were already so used to the cold, your skin felt numb as you grew used to the cold despite Hongjoong lending you his leather jacket halfway through the route. You felt kind of bad seeing goosebumps on Hongjoong’s arms as he endured the cold. 

“You don’t mind loose clothing, do you?” Hongjoong unlocked the door to his apartment, dropping the keys onto the kitchen counter before letting you in.

“Uh, no, anything would do. Thanks” You stepped into the apartment, it was neat and clean with a few pizza boxes on the counter. 

“Are you hungry?” Hongjoong’s face lit up as he pulled onto the fridge door, scouring at what he could find. 

“No, I’ve lost my appetite for the night already” With your sense of smell ruined by the thick aroma of alcohol and whatever at the party, you couldn’t bare to eat without wanting to throw up. 

“Here, you can take this room. And, uh, here,” Hongjoong lead you to a room with a bed freshly made as if no one had slept in it before, handing you what seems to be one of his shirts and some pants. It wasn’t like they were too oversized so you didn’t need to worry. “, the bathroom is right there by the way”. 

“Goodnight, Hongjoong” You flashed a small smile as Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, avoiding much eye contact before inching backwards out the door.

“Y-Yeah, goodnight” You stifled a chuckle before turning back around as the door closed behind Hongjoong. 

The room wasn’t too big or too small. It was just perfect. It was masculine enough not to mistake it for a woman’s room. Maybe this was someone else’s room. It wasn’t a new discussion around campus that Hongjoong had a roommate. But where was he?

It was a relief to finally strip off the party clothes, well, dress. The soft material of Hongjoong’s shirt made you feel at home, a subtle masculine scent lingered on it as you held the collar to your nose, sniffing it before stretching your arms out. A man who smelt nice was always attractive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a pleasant sleep before you woke up in a cold layer of sweat, gasping for air as you shot up from the bed. You weren’t so sure if you were still dreaming or not, maybe both. 

The only thing you could hear over the ringing in your ear was the sound of your heart pumping loudly out of your chest as you focus on your surroundings. Almost everything was completely black other than the window with the moonlight shining through. 

It wasn’t uncommon for such sleepless nights like this, you’ve had them since you were a child after some rather unfortunate events. Some you could never seem to forget. Since then, you’ve learnt to cope with it. 

It wasn’t much of a big deal as you grew older, nothing an ice-cold glass of water couldn’t fix. That and probably a few episodes of TV that you’d forget in the morning.

You felt gross just sitting in the bed, quite sorry for whoever actually sleeps on here. The red numbers from across the room beamed 3:29am as your feet touched the ground before stepping towards the door.

Hongjoong was probably already dead asleep at this time of night. You’ve never met anyone who sleeps with their door open before. Making your way down the corridor, the wooden floor creaks subtly beneath you as your eyes lingered around the dark space. 

What you didn’t expect to see in the kitchen was Hongjoong himself, making you halt in your spot as he looks up from the counter. Arms rested against the counter with a glass of water in his hands.

“Why are you awake?” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy, probably just woke up not too long ago before you.

“I had a nightmare” You hesitantly make your way into the kitchen, fidgeting with your fingers as Hongjoong hops off the stool.

“Do you usually have nightmares that wake you up?” 

“Only when I don’t have my pillow, childish right?” It was another thing that helped you cope with nightmares. The long pillow that your parents had given you before they moved away helped majorly. You couldn’t have a proper goodnight’s sleep without it.

“Not at all. Actually, I can’t sleep without my pillow either” Who would’ve thought this baddie was actually a softie?

“So, how come you’re awake?” Your eyes flickered from cabinet to cabinet, questioning in your head which one the glasses were in.

“I was thinking” You were about to take your chances, opening up a cabinet only for a glass filled with water enters your view. You gladly take the glass from Hongjoong’s hand as you turned back around, facing him entirely as he maintained a distance.

“You must be thinking about something deep to stay up this late” Your dry throat felt relief after the first sip of water, finally, your body felt like it wasn’t on fire anymore.

“Would you say BuzzFeed quizzes are deep?” Hongjoong chuckled, leaning back onto the counter with his arms crossed. 

“What kind of person stays up at three in the morning thinking about BuzzFeed quizzes?” 

“Me, surprisingly, San too” 

“San, the rich kid, San?” 

“That’s the one” 

By now your glass was half empty, rubbing your thumbs across the glass as you take a seat next to Hongjoong. Your eyes glued onto the scenery outside of the window, moon hiding behind the trees of the small forest next to Hongjoong’s apartment building. 

“How are you not tired?” Even you were tired and you were barely awake for more than five minutes.

“I’m used to getting calls from my drunk friends at this time telling me to pick them up. It’s kind of like a subconscious alarm clock now” Hongjoong slips around the counter, inching back towards the corridor.

“How fun” 

“It’s going to be hard for you to fall asleep, isn’t it?” Hongjoong flashed you a concerning look before leaning forward with his hands pressed against the edge of the counter.

“I normally end up pulling all-nighters when this shit happens” Your finger swipes along the edge of the glass as you make yourself comfortable in your seat, accepting your fate for the night.

“I know I’m no special pillow, but perhaps, I could help?” Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, cocking a brow before pushing himself off the counter.

“What, you want to hold me to sleep? Is that what you’re saying?” It was sweet, really. Just a surprising thoughtful gesture you never expected.

“No- maybe- yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying”

You found it quite charming that Hongjoong had offered you such redemption from tired eyes in the morning. With no further words, you hopped off your stool and brushed passed Hongjoong with him following closely behind. 

The bed didn’t feel icky anymore the moment you touched it again, lying on your side as you wait for Hongjoong. You didn’t see him come in but you knew once the side of the bed dipped and a warmth covered your back. 

“Wake me up if I start snoring”

“You snore?”

“I don’t know, that’s why you need to tell me”

A soft chuckle issues from behind, feeling the wave of Hongjoong’s breath against the back of your neck. You could tell he was hesitant of actually holding you with his hand lingering over your waist. Softly grabbing his hand, you snake his arm around you, holding his hand in yours as you let him get comfortable.

“Can you sleep like this?” With Hongjoong hugging you like this, it wouldn’t take more than a blink of an eye to fall right back asleep.

“Can you?” He did say he needed his own pillow to be able to sleep too. 

“Only if you don’t move too much” You could feel your eyes shutting close as Hongjoong started playing with your hair, growing more comfortable in your presence. 

You never knew how much you enjoyed the feeling of someone playing with your hair until now. The way Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as his fingertips gently massaged your scalp calmed you, it was like a silent lullaby putting you to sleep.

“This is so much better than a pillow” You murmured, flipping onto your other side to face Hongjoong. His eyes were droopy, close to shutting as he rests his hand at the back of your head. 

“I’m glad” 

“You don’t sound so tired” 

“Because I’m not” Hongjoong chuckles, drawing little circles on your back as you subtly snuggle closer, lifting your face slightly to see him better. 

“It’ll be weird if one of us is awake” You could see the corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve upwards into a soft smile, making you do the same as your fingers trace his jaw.

“Sorry, but I have no more sleeping pills” 

“You need to get tired somehow” By now, your face was just as close to his as your body was against his body. 

“What do you suggest I do?” Hongjoong had stopped drawing his little circles on your back, smoothing his hand over to your waist before rubbing his thumb along the exposed skin his shirt had uncovered. 

At this distance, Hongjoong could probably hear the sound of your heart beating like crazy in your chest. Your hand had trailed down from his neck to his chest, hand cupping over his heart as your eyes flickered up to his. 

“Me” Hongjoong couldn’t mutter another word as your lips locked onto his, kissing him passionately as your arm snaked around his neck.

Hongjoong kissed you back just as hungrily, hand caressing your waist as they moved down to your hips and pushing you onto your back against the bed. Your tongue swiped across Hongjoong’s bottom lip before biting it softly, earning a vivid smirk against the kiss. 

Your legs wrap around Hongjoong’s torso as he pushed his body between your legs, swivelling his hips against yours with the noticeable tent rubbing against your aching heat. You couldn’t help but moan against Hongjoong’s lips as his hands slide under your, or should you say, his shirt, roaming every inch of your skin.

“You look so good in my clothes” Hongjoong growled against your lips before trailing his kisses down your neck, harshly sucking on the skin as he hikes up the shirt right above your breasts. 

“I look good in everything” Your fingers run along the skin of Hongjoong’s waist, hiking his shirt up before letting him pull it over his head. 

“You’re not wrong” A small gasp left your lips as Hongjoong takes a breast into his mouth with his hand cupping the other, squeezing it gently as you play with the hair at the back of his head. 

“Mhm” Your hips grind upwards against his hard-on, desperate for some friction against your throbbing clit and dripping wet cunt. 

You couldn’t help but grip his hair tighter as Hongjoong swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking on your breast as his hand caresses your waist before hooking under the waistband of your pants. Suddenly, you didn’t feel the need to sleep.

Your legs slide up and down against Hongjoong’s sides before lifting your hips, letting Hongjoong cascade your pants down, throwing it onto the floor as his lips smother your stomach in kisses. His warm breath scattered over your skin as Hongjoong trails his wet kisses down to the waistband of your panties, fingers teasing your inner thighs with harsh squeezes.

Your face scrunches in desperation as Hongjoong pulls your panties down, licking your skin gently before kissing just above your clit, making you clench around nothing yet gushing over the slightest touches. Hongjoong eyes you from below with a devilish smirk, pushing your legs further apart before hooking his arms underneath.

“You look even better like this” Your legs twitched slightly as Hongjoong kisses your inner thighs, blowing softly against your sopping wet pussy, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips subconsciously buck up towards his face.

“You’re such a tease” You moaned out, arms stretching above your head as Hongjoong kisses your clit before lapping his tongue at it.

“I know” A breathy moan left your lips as Hongjoong sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud of nerves as his fingers slip between your folds. 

It was quite a feeling seeing Hongjoong lapping away at your pussy with the glimpse of moonlight shining through the window, highlighting his back as his arms flexed with each movement. You couldn’t hold back another moan as Hongjoong slipped a finger into you, pumping slowly before adding another.

Your face furrowed in pleasure with Hongjoong’s eyes piercing at you from below, lips attached to your clit as he hooked his fingers deep in you. If breathing wasn’t difficult before, it definitely was now.

“Fuck, right there” Hongjoong’s tongue worked faster, fingers coating in your arousal as Hongjoong peppers sloppy kisses all around before reaching up for your lips.

Your knees bent instantly as Hongjoong buried his fingers deeper in you, pumping faster until you could hear the subtle squelches of your juices against his fingers. His teeth clash with yours as your lips hungrily meet each other, moving in sync with your arms pulling him closer.

It felt like a film of buzzing sensations had just washed over your body with each pump growing faster. Hongjoong’s palm rubbed over your clit, making you moan against his lips. Your lips hovered over Hongjoong’s, mouth wide open as Hongjoong’s hand worked faster, fingers slipping out and smearing your juices over your clit before rubbing it.

“Shit- fuck, Hongjoongohmygod” Your abdomen tensed hard as you nerves spark with each rub, close to emitting a firework in the pits of your stomach as Hongjoong’s fingers circle at your clit.

“You like that?” The whisper against your ear made you moan a soft ‘yes’ as Hongjoong’s face dips into your neck, kissing your jawline as you pull on his hair.

“Oh mmphhhfuck” It was only a matter of seconds before you had felt an explosion of bliss triggered by the pace at which Hongjoong was circling at your clit, making your legs tremble as they stayed opened by Hongjoong’s hand firmly planted against your thigh. 

Your brows furrow deeply, jaw clenched as Hongjoong smears your release on his fingers again before bringing them up to your lips, letting you take them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers making sure to keep your eyes locked on his. A groan escapes from his lips as he admires you from above, lips brushing against yours as he rubs his legs against yours.

“You want more?”

“Please” You bring your knee up to his crotch, feeling the hardened length over his sweatpants before rubbing your knee against it subtly.

“Fuuck” Hongjoong swiftly pecks your lips before standing on his knees, tugging his sweatpants down before throwing it off the bed, leaving him in his boxers.

The moonlight highlighted the crevasses on Hongjoong’s body, from the lining of his back to the lining of his abs. He looks tremendously good at this angle, making you lick your lips in anticipation before standing on your own knees, palming Hongjoong’s hard cock over his boxers.

Hongjoong cups both sides of your face, pulling you closer for a hungry kiss as a hand flies up over his, kissing him back just as passionate. You could feel his cock twitch under the material of his boxers, waiting to be held and clenched around.

Your palm rubs against his clothed dick, making him moan as he bit down on your bottom lip. Hongjoong’s hips bucked forward against your hand, rolling it subtly with the movements of your hand.

Your tongues lapped together as Hongjoong pulled you closer by the waist, cupping your ass before giving it a squeeze. Your head tilts as Hongjoong smothers your jaw in soft kisses before trailing them back down to your neck, making you moan a soft ‘fuck’ as you tug at his boxers, letting his cock spring free as you pulled them down.

“There’s a lot of things I could’ve done to sleep,” Hongjoong runs his hand through his hair, eyeing you down as you lower yourself down on him with a hand wrapped around his dick “, but I never expected this”. 

“Are you telling me you don’t want this?” Your tongue licked a stripe from the base of Hongjoong’s dick to the tip, letting the tip of your tongue sit on his slit as your hand caressed the rest of his dick.

Hongjoong throws his head back with a groan before taking a hold of your hair between his fingers. His face scrunches in pleasure as your lips wrap around his dick, keeping eye contact as your head bops back and forth, swirling your tongue around the base of his cock throbbing in your mouth.

“Mhm fuck-” A breathy moan fell between Hongjoong’s parted lips, brows furrowed deeply as his thighs tremble at the feeling of you slobbering on his dick.

The grip on your hair tightens, slightly stinging as Hongjoong rocked his hips subtly against your mouth. His abdomen tensed hard as a rock the moment you took his length deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat before pumping the rest of what you couldn’t reach with your hand.

You could taste the precum spewing from his dick as your wetness felt like it was about to drip from your pussy. Hongjoong shot you a daring look as he admired you from above, mouth gaping as broken moans fell from his lips.

Your mouth comes off his dick with a pop as you continue to pump his length, running a hand up from Hongjoong’s abs to his chest only to have Hongjoong grab your wrist, spinning you around as you fell on your knees and hands. You smirked as your head turned to the side, seeing Hongjoong caress your ass cheek with both hands before spreading them apart.

“So beautiful” Your back dipped deeper as you push your ass back, letting the tip of Hongjoong’s dick poke at your entrance as he slides it up and down your slit, coating it in your wetness as you crave the sensation.

It was almost a feeling you quite missed as Hongjoong pushed his dick into your hole, stretching it out with a moan coming from the both of you as you take in his length. You almost forgot how good it felt to have someone bury their cock deep in you before rolling their hips. Hongjoong just brought that sensation back to your memory.

“Fuck, Hongjoong” With your knees digging deep into the mattress and arms stretched far above you, Hongjoong grips your hips, squeezing them before rolling his hips into you, just pushing his dick into you deeper than before. 

You run a hand through your hair, pushing it back as Hongjoong thrusts into you, starting slow as your breathing quickens with each hit into your body. You could feel Hongjoong leaning down, pushing your hair to one side before attacking your shoulder with sloppy kisses, hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin.

His hand remained on your hip, squeezing it still as the other travels up from your thigh to your breast, fondling it before reaching for your neck. A quiet moan left your lips as Hongjoong wraps his fingers around your neck, squeezing ever so gently as his thrusts grew faster, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“Ohmygodnnghh-” It was a hoarse moan thanks to Hongjoong’s fingers pressing down on the sides of your neck as pleasure shoots through your body with each body lurching thrust. 

“You’re right,” Hongjoong plants a soft kiss behind your ear, still holding on to your neck as his hand on your hips moves between your legs, fingertips lingering along the skin before circling at your clit “, you do look good in everything, even with my fingers around your throat”.

“Maybe even better down my throat” You smirked, a devilish grin carving into your face as you turn around, pulling Hongjoong’s face down for a harsh kiss as he slaps his hips in you.

You couldn’t help but push your ass further back, letting Hongjoong slam his cock deeper and harder into you with each thrust. Your mind slowly thickens with lust and senseless thoughts as Hongjoong rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip the sheets tighter.

“Oh?” Hongjoong cocked a brow, smirking with you before flipping you on to your back, spitting at your pussy before sliding himself in again, thumb rubbing your clit as your legs wrap around his waist.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust knocking you up and down with pleasure and nerves buzzing in the pit of your stomach. You entwine your fingers with Hongjoong’s before dragging his hand over your stomach to your chest, grabbing your breast with his hand as the other rubs your clit. 

“Oh fuckkkk mhmm oh god” Hongjoong rolls your nipple between his fingers, squeezing your breast before sliding it back up to your neck, thumb swiping across your bottom lip, letting you softly kiss it before wrapping your lips around it. 

Your eyes only roll back further when Hongjoong quickens his pace, making you tighten your legs around his waist, trapping him as sounds of skin slapping against skin grows louder. Your back arches off the bed in response to Hongjoong grabbing both sides of your hips, rutting himself into you at a relentless speed. 

It was almost as if he was trying to dig deeper, thrusting harder into you as your jaw was left hanging, inaudible moans trying so hard to escape with each thrust sparking something new in your body. All rational thought flew out of your head as your mind was left on nothing but soaking in a puddle immense pleasure and bliss.

“Yesyes- oh fuck yes” Your face scrunches in pleasure as your brows furrowed deeply, cupping your breasts in your hands as you look down to Hongjoong pounding himself into you. 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched hard, on the brink of breaking as he grunts through gritted teeth, slamming his hips faster into you with his hands keeping you in place. It felt like confetti exploding in the pit of your stomach with each thrust bringing you closer to a high much more than just confetti, nerves buzzing into a firework ready to combust at any given moment. 

“F-Faster mhmmfuckk” Hongjoong shoots you a glaring stare with his hooded eyes, smirking with his parted lips. 

Your legs couldn’t hold around Hongjoong anymore, sliding off like jelly as your toes curl with every passing second. And with each of those seconds, you could feel it coming, the way your heart threatened to jump out of your chest at any moment and the way your back arched with each static euphoria coursing through your veins ready for combustion.

“Yes! Yesyes oh god! Yes- mmphhhmmfuckk!” It felt like you’ve lasted forever until the ball of buzzing nerves in the pit of your stomach finally flooded throughout your body, filling every inch with nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling blissful euphoria and pleasure. Hongjoong groaned as he felt your warm release around his cock, desperate to chase his own high while fucking you senseless. 

“Ohhhh god- fuckk” Your legs tremble as Hongjoong pulled out quickly, removing his hand from your hip to pump at his throbbing twitching cock above your stomach, gazing into your eyes before landing down for a kiss. 

“Mhmmfuck ohmygod-” Hongjoong groaned against your lips, body twitching as you felt his warm release spew onto your stomach, panting like crazy with each kiss stealing another breath of air. 

“All out, baby, all out” A hand cups one side of Hongjoong’s face as you wrapped your other hand around his cock, milking the rest of his high out as he heavily drops his head into your neck, panting as if it were his last. 

Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the palm of your hands, droplets of cum still dripping onto your stomach as his legs collapse. You smeared the rest of his cum over the tip of his cock, thumb swiping over the slit before Hongjoong lifts his face again.

“You’re fucking amazing” It was a mere whisper but you could hear him clearly over the pounding sounds of your heartbeats. 

“Clean me up before you go complimenting me” You swiftly steal a peck on Hongjoong’s lips before pressing your palm against Hongjoong’s chest, pushing him up onto his knees.

“How is this supposed to make me sleep when I just want more now?” Hongjoong yanks a few layers of tissues from the box on the bedside table, catching his releasing into the tissue before carefully trapping it with another layer of tissue.

“More? Oh god, you’re awake awake” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair as Hongjoong collapses on his back beside you.

“It was your idea” 

“But did it work though?”

“You mean, do I want to sleep now?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“With you? Definitely” Hongjoong opens his arms for you to snuggle closer, fingers drawing little shapes on your shoulder when you lay your head on his chest.

“Snnggff-” It was quite amusing how Hongjoong managed to hide his secret cheesy persona.

“Wait, I can’t. This is weird”

“What’s weird?” 

“This is Yunho’s bed”

_

Copyright �� 2020 by serendipityunho All Rights Reserved

[beybladefanboy]

Beyblade Seasons Ranked

Here is my personal ranking, from worst to best, of the seasons of Beyblade Metal Fight: Metal Fusion, Metal Masters, Metal Fury, and the awkward spin-off Shogun Steel. Yeah, let’s get into that:

4 Shogun Steel

Honestly even if I did like Shogun Steel for what it is, it would still be at the bottom just by default. It can barely be considered part of the Metal Saga. The main characters in the last three seasons are either absent or reduced to supporting roles in favour of new characters who aren’t nearly as interesting or likeable. It is by definition a spin off. It feels very disjointed from the rest of the series because of these factors along with the lighter tone, the changes to the Beyblade system, and even some continuity errors particularly with Fury. Bringing back Doji again was also the biggest leap in logic this whole series made and feels downright lazy. The whole story just feels like a watered down Fusion with many of the story beats being similar and some characters never growing past mere echoes of the old characters. Some of the bey battles are fun and Ren and Takanosuke are decent characters but there’s a reason this show doesn’t get much attention. It falls into the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy trap of being overly dependent on original series sucker punches for its appeal and not putting as much effort into the new stuff. So as a result, the new stuff, some of which has potential, isn’t as fleshed out as it should be. This show is honestly fine on its own but awful when compared to the Metal Saga and it is comparing itself to the Metal Saga. This show intentionally put itself in the Metal Saga’s shadow and seemed content with being just that: a shadow of greatness.

3 Metal Masters

Okay, this is where I’m gonna start pissing people off. Don’t get me wrong, Masters is great and I don’t think it’s clearly worse than the other two seasons or anything. I think the main three seasons are very close in quality and putting them in any kind of order was incredibly difficult. However, I do think Masters is slightly weaker than Fusion and Fury. First off, it introduces Masamune. I don’t like Masamune. I find his whole “I’m the number 1 blader” shtick incredibly obnoxious and he’s everything I don’t like in real Americans: self absorbed, disloyal, big mouthed, entitled, and just annoying in general. He did have good character development over the course of the season but I personally can’t stand him. The pacing of this season also isn’t the best. With the exception of the Dark Tsubasa arc (which I’ll get to!), the season is just a normal world tournament until they get to America, which I don’t find very interesting. Kenta is also criminally underused. In Fusion he was basically a second main character and there are some episodes specifically following him. Then in Masters, he’s pushed aside in favour of side characters. People say Fury underused characters, and I’ll get to that, but holy crap, Masters gave Kenta no room to grow. Aside from him though, the other characters are used really well. I particularly like how Kyoya and Ryuga are incorporated. This is actually the season where I grew attached to Ryuga during my viewing in December. I was starting to like him in Fusion but this season cemented my newfound attachment. This season also gave us the dark Tsubasa arc, which is one of my favourite plot points from the show overall. It’s a fascinating look into the mind of a character I already really liked and it allowed Tsubasa to develop a lot. I love the conclusion that you cannot drive out the darkness in yourself, you have to accept it as part of who you are in order to properly control it. It’s brilliant, and I can personally relate this message to my own life. The dark Tsubasa arc is probably the strongest part of the season overall as the rest of it until we get to the HD Academy conflict kind of drags for me. However, when we do finally get to the HD Academy conflict, it is very fun. The whole “spiral energy” thing was actually pretty creative and while brainwashing isn’t a new concept for this show, I think they went more in depth with it in this season and it was pretty interesting. So yeah, still a really good season.

2 Metal Fusion

If I was ranking based on nostalgia, this would be number one. In fact, it probably deserves to be number one. However, I do have a few problems with this season that hold it back and it’s not the pacing. Actually, out of all the seasons, Fusion probably has the best pacing. The main villains, Doji and Ryuga, are introduced early in the season and all the characters are developed throughout the season, building up to the final tournament: Battle Bladers, which is also set up fairly early. The story is predictable but very well-structured. My biggest problem with this season is the plot twist with Gingka’s dad. Not only is it painfully obvious, but the reveal of the twist drags the plot to a screeching halt for nearly an entire episode, hurting the pacing and making an entire episode an exposition dump. It also made Gingka’s dad a terrible character. You can argue that him abandoning his teenage son and making him believe he was dead was for the greater good, although I personally still think it’s messed up, but breaking Gingka’s point counter like that was a step way too far. That moment serves to further the story by forcing Gingka to work harder to get into Battle Bladers. But did it have to be his dad who broke the point counter? I argue it didn’t. Gingka’s dad was flat out abusive to his son on that occasion and was pretty cold to him in general as Phoenix and yet the plot and even some of the characters praise Ryo for doing this. Why?! The way the story is structured puts Ryo in the right for abusing his son which disgusts me. That is my biggest problem with this season and possibly the whole series to be honest. I hate it that much. However, apart from that and those random filler episodes with Sora that in my opinion were boring, this season was really solid. Like I said, the story is told well and the characters are all introduced and developed well. Battle Bladers is definitely the highlight of this season, having the most intense battles and hardest hitting moments. Those episodes are exhausting to watch, because of Reiji and Ryuga. Reiji was randomly introduced in Battle Bladers and decided to try and rival Ryuga in how much he could traumatize the characters (and younger me). I have no idea why they decided to do that, but it worked. Ryuga in this season is the best villain in the whole series. He has such a presence to him: his (dubbed) voice, his sadistic expressions, his abilities, the music that plays when he’s onescreen. He’s over the top but in my opinion, Ryuga is the perfect balance between entertaining and intimidating. He’s even slightly sympathetic by the end of the season when he gets taken over by dark power and is seen trying to fight its control. They managed to both make Ryuga an irredeemable psychopath and found a believable way to redeem him. I love that in the end, Gingka isn’t fighting to defeat Ryuga, he’s fighting to defeat the dark power, which came from the greed and hatred of humans. Basically, the problem isn’t humanity, it’s humanity’s greed/hatred and being consumed by these feelings lead to evil. That is genius. This season also had two of my favourite battles in the entire series: Kyoya vs Ryuga, and Gingka vs Ryuga.

1 Metal Fury

Yeah, I said it. Fury is my personal favourite season. It probably has more wrong with it than Masters and Fusion but honestly, Fury’s strengths more than make up for its weaker parts for me. The only problem I have with Fury that actively hinders my enjoyment is Kyoya’s poorly handled arc, which I’ve been over multiple times and wrote a whole fanfiction rectifying. To sum it up briefly: it was rushed and weakened Kyoya’s character when it had the chance to develop him. I will admit this season also had too few episodes. I don’t think it was rushed per say, it just feels like parts are missing. There should’ve been more leading up to Nemesis’ revival and an actual epilogue episode because as it stands now, Fury ends really suddenly without much actual confirmation of where the characters we know and love ended up. It’s kind of jarring. Overall however, I really love Fury. I love the adventure style story and there's so much variety to the bey battles this time around, both in terms of the beys themselves and the stadiums. It’s just more interesting to watch. It also did a great job giving all the major characters victories, not just Gingka. This is something Masters also did well and a gripe I have with Fusion: Gingka gets all the major victories in Metal Fusion and pushes the other characters to the wayside. Well, Masters and Fury fixed this issue in my opinion. The very final fight of Fury against the shadow Nemesis could’ve been executed better in my opinion. However, it hits all the right emotional beats for a final battle and still grabs my attention rewatching it, so I can put aside my criticisms of it while watching it. Also, I like that “destiny” is something these characters are controlling themselves and can go either way rather than being some unstoppable force that they will all give in to eventually otherwise they’re villains. Because that’s how Yugioh does it and it’s probably my biggest problem with that show. In that series, it feels like the characters are all just blindly accepting “destiny” and those that don’t, Kaiba and Marik most notably, are deemed villains for wanting to take control over their lives and not be governed by some invisible force. Yes, I know Marik went to some horrible extremes using this logic but it still bothers me that the only characters in that show that don’t throw their lives away blindly following someone else’s whims are deemed villains. It’s just kind of messed up. Fury thankfully subverts this. “Destiny” is not an unstoppable force in Beyblade, it’s the will of the characters and those characters are allowed to make their own choices. It makes the story more interesting and the characters more likeable because the characters are the ones driving the story, which feels so much more natural. Yeah, I really like the characters in Fury. Honestly, I’m more attached to Yuki, King, and Chris than anyone introduced in Masters and the other legendary blader characters all bring something different and interesting to the table that I don’t think older characters could have. I also like how the old characters are used. Sure, Tsubasa and Yu are underused this season. But guess who also got a lot of focus last season? Tsubasa and Yu. And some of the characters who were underused in Masters, Kyoya and Kenta, get more focus in this season. They did mess up Kyoya’s arc in my opinion but the effort is there and I appreciate his presence before and after that. Kenta especially was severely underused in Masters so this season decided to make him relevant again and they did it in such an endearing way. You all know how much I love Ryuga and Kenta’s friendship. It’s one of the things that should have gotten more focus but what we do get is good enough build up. This season was the one that drew the most emotion out of me during my most recent viewing and that was because of Ryuga and Kenta. I was devastated by Ryuga’s death (even if he may not actually be dead, that’s certainly what it felt like in the moment) and the scene where he gives Kenta his power was the most touching moment in the entire show for me.

Well, that ranking probably pissed some people off. Again, I love the classic three seasons. (I’m not a fan of Shogun Steel but it has its moments.) Choosing between the three of them like that was incredibly difficult, especially Fusion and Fury. In the end, I just had to go with my gut.

[motherjoel]

Leading Lady (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter three- oxytocin 

wc: 1.3k

summary: you confide in reid about your personal life- turns out he’s great at listening 

a/n: this chapter is kinda short but there’s some longer ones to come don’t worry

chapter index: chapter 1, chapter 2

You woke up the next day to your pounding alarm and the smell of burnt toast. That was when you remembered there was an FBI agent staying in your home- you weren’t having a stroke. Dragging yourself out of bed, you walked over to your dresser to make yourself decent enough to be seen by Dr Reid. Peering inside, you could see your last clean sweatshirt at the bottom of the drawer. Well, it wasn’t technically yours. It belonged to your ex, and although you normally tried to avoid wearing it, today you welcomed the familiarity and comfort that came with it. Yesterday was probably one of your more less than comforting days but you were glad that a certain someone would keep you safe. The sweatshirt was pretty big on you and it came to about your mid thigh, so the athletic shorts you put on weren’t showing from under it. You made your way into the kitchen. 

The smell of burnt toast grew stronger and it was mixed with the smell of coffee, which you were grateful for. At your kitchen table sat Spencer, who was invested in today's paper. 

“Good morning!” you greeted him with a smile. You weren’t normally a morning person but you didn’t want Spencer to think of you as grumpy, which was your normal morning attitude.

“Good Morning…” he trailed off, looking up for the first time. Well, up, down, then up again… Was he checking you out? You decided to brush it off, however, because you didn’t mind the attention. Once he noticed you looking at him he blushed and returned focus to his newspaper. 

“Thanks for making coffee, by the way. I normally don't have time and I've wasted enough money on it already,” you laughed.

“No problem, I was up early anyway,” he responded, eyes still focused on the paper but it didn’t look like he was processing the information.

You poured yourself a cup and took a sip, not adding any cream or sugar. Spencer noticed this and gave you a look. 

“What?” you asked, the mug halfway to your lips.

“You take your coffee black?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked. You nodded, he continued. “Did you know that only 35% of people in the United States drink their coffee black? It’s pretty healthy, too- drinking one or two cups of black coffee a day reduces the risk of various cardiovascular diseases.” he spouted. You chuckled

“Yeah, this is the way my dad drank it, so when I started to drink coffee in high school that's really all I knew. He used to tell me that by adding sugar to my coffee I might as well be having dessert for breakfast, which doesn’t really make sense but I listened anyway and I guess I'm used to it now,” you explained, and he nodded.

“Your dad seems like a nice guy,” he remarked, innocently.

“Yeah. He was,” you said, trying to focus on something other than the brown eyes boring into the side of your head.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn’t know…” he trailed off, and he seemed like he really meant it. 

“No, it's okay. I’m glad I had the chance to talk about him like he was still… you know… with us.” You took the seat next to Spencer and he folded the newspaper and set it aside. “It actually happened pretty recently, right before I moved here a few months ago,” you continued, looking for signs that you should stop talking but you had his full attention so you continued. “He had struggled with pancreatic cancer and we didn’t know until the symptoms started to show, but by then it was too late,” you said, trying to keep composure. “I really loved him, you know? I still do. I miss him every day,” you continued, letting a tear slip. 

Unexpectedly, Spencer stood up and pulled you up into a hug. It didn’t seem natural for him, physical contact, but it wasn’t uncomfortable once you melted in his touch. You let a few more tears fall, trembling a bit before letting go and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. His hands were still rested on your forearms, almost like he was teaching a baby how to walk and he wasn’t ready to let go. 

“Gosh, what a way to start the morning,” you said with a teary laugh. He gave you an empathetic smile, one that made you feel warm.

“Crying actually releases oxytocin and feel-good endorphins that a lot of times help with emotional pain and stress,” Spencer offered more interesting facts, not breaking eye contact or the soft smile on his lips. This seemed to be his way of offering support and comfort, rather than outwardly expressing it. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“Hm, maybe I should cry before work more often then,” you remarked before wiping away the last of your tears and sitting back down, Spencer following in suit. He was blushing a little, the interaction that the two of you just had was probably sinking in. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to hug women he had just met, but maybe things were different with you.

“So, I have to be at work in a half hour, are you down to walk there? It’s just a couple blocks,” you said, hoping that you could keep this part of your schedule intact.

“I guess that's okay. It would be safer to drive but we don’t want the stalker to get suspicious about too many schedule changes,” he replied, and you were relieved. He looked back down at his newspaper and you took that as an opportunity to get ready for work. 

You walked into your room and picked out a pair of ripped mom jeans and swapped your tear stained hoodie cropped striped sweater. Settling for a fairly simple makeup look and running a brush through your hair, you walked back out to see Reid fully dressed and ready to leave. You laughed as you pulled on a pair of high top black converse, noticing Reid wearing the exact same pair of shoes. 

“Hey, we’re matching!” you exclaimed with a smile. He looked confused for a moment before looking at your outstretched pointed finger directed at your feet before laughing.

“Don’t tell Morgan about this, I’d never live it down,” he remarked. You snorted at that and grabbed your purse to head out. The Morgan guy actually seemed nice, like someone you would be friends with. You wondered if you'd get to know his team better- they all seemed like good people and you were in short supply of friends.

“Ready to go?” you asked, and he nodded. You opened the door and held it for him so you could lock it once it was shut, but when you turned around to do so, you noticed a thick envelope taped to your door.

“What's this….” you trailed off, reaching up to grab it but Reid stopped you by laying a gentle hand on your forearm.

“Hold on,” he said cautiously. He pulled the envelope off of your door and opened it, looking at its contents. His expression turned sour. 

“I have to call Hotch,” he said, frantically.

“What- what is it?” you asked, more urgently. He sighed before showing you. In front of you were different photos of you, all at different places. One from outside the theatre of you walking home, one of you working at the cash register, and the last one was taken through your bedroom window. You were asleep. This made your heart stop. 

“Come with me,” he said, grabbing your arm and leading you back inside to your apartment. 

I guess I have to switch shifts, you thought to yourself. 

-

taglist: @mcntsee, @diesinspanishbcimhispanic, @chickens-are-life, @rexorangecouny

[common-nerd-knowledge]

Obey me! One Nerd To Explain Them All!

Asmodeus Headcanons: Another Side

Hear me out- I’m well aware that at times there’s not exactly much light being shown with him, but I genuinely believe there’s a vast possibility of things that could be done to dive deeper into the character. I believe under that narcissism and his sin (that plays a huge factor too), he really could be a decent demon otherwise. The same goes with the other brothers, but they are not my focus for today.

!!Warning!!: these are just my own personal headcanons and may get sensitive topics mentioned (or spoilers for the current end of the year). By no way, shape, or form am I expecting anything from this.

Honestly, I think he’d be one of the best demons to go to for comfort for those struggling with themselves.

I mean- he’s been there and it’s hinted that he is insecure and seeks love and attention. Genuine, platonic love and attention. He just isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He’s the embodiment of Lust, after all. However, surely he must crave friendship too. He’s just so used to the sexual aspect that it’s become like the norm.

After all, he doesn’t even try to get you in his bed at the end of the game. He just wants to hear someone tell him they love him, genuinely, through the time and few experiences over the year.

Jewel of the Heavens. He likely does want to still be the angel he used to be, making due with the situation given to him. Remember- its very possible that he wasn’t like this as an angel. He reminds me of an incubus in game- as he acts much like one in his own way. But he went from adored angel to almost a nobody. After all, why would the demons have cared much for an angel when the brothers first fell?

I think this was likely a factor in his behavior, as demons aren’t usually considered to be the nicest. If he wanted to be popular again, to avoid letting go of that title, he has to keep up with the trends in the Devildom and do whatever it takes to get back up where he should be.

He might have accepted his new look just fine, but imagine how hard it must have been to go from that angel to nothing. So, now as a newly made representation of Lust, alongside this issue, the wreck that comes his rising popularity for more reasons than one begins.

Whether it was from sleeping with someone or wiggling in somewhere, it would still get him known as something or prove that even here, it proves he’s adored to the point of where he’s considered desirable. He’d have to look the part too. That’s where the strict beauty routine comes in. It’s to a point where, honestly, I believe he doesn’t know what else to do then. He just knows what he can make of himself here and is rolling with it.

Plus- as he can come off as a feminine man, it’s no surprise that it’s possible he just doesn’t care for gender norms. He’s confident in his own skin, especially when it seems the populace can agree with that too.

That doesn’t mean he’ll tell someone to get over themselves so simply. He can say some pretty choice words, but I doubt he’s purposely go out to upset someone if they did nothing to him. (Or if that persons Mammon- that might change. We know how Mammon gets the short end of the stick.)

I bet if he met someone struggling with themselves (when he’s not self absorbed- actually aware), not only would he treat them to a self-care day, but he’s probably vocally make his support known. 

You’re a female but don’t want to “dress” like one? You want a suit? Okay, honey. Lets go to the store and pick you out some that just scream (name) then. You’re going to look wonderful, darling. Not as much as I would, but close enough!

You’re a male but want to dress feminine? Well then, sweetie today's your lucky day? How about we get makeovers then? Shopping spree too? Want some nice skirts that’ll flow yet fit you and help you look your best? Trust me on this.

This goes for all people of sexualities and genders, by the way.

He’d probably do his best to make sure you get accepted. Heck- he probably could introduce you to a few friends since in the present time he knows a lot of people.

When it comes back to the topic of love interests...

Someone who he can’t charm and isn’t easily wooed, being a test for him to likely show what he does really want? An MC or S/O like that, for him, would be able to give him a good challenge, yet also be able to have a bond like that of best friends.

He would not make it easy at all, for sure- peeling back the layers past his narcissism and flirty behavior would be much of a challenge. But he’d have just as hard a time trying to charm his respective MC who he can’t just woo so simply.

It’s bound to lead to one of those scenarios where the popular boy (because lets admit- he is one of those characters.) and the new person end up having their rocky start since neither know what to expect, but with some time could easily become a sweet reveal and overtime good relationship too, whether he is a supporter of their choices (if you prefer one of his brothers within reason- since he isn’t completely innocent either.) and identities or they truly want to work towards an actual relationship with a lot of time and effort.

He’d likely spoil them, but love can’t be bought. He’d be shown what an actual relationship (platonic or romantic- doesn’t matter) is like with the right person.

They also might be able to genuinely notice his visible struggle with keeping the title of most popular, even if not many can top him in popularity. With some insight, you’d be able to see the ‘not so fabulous’ side of him. A side he hardly ever shows.

And this could be an unpopular opinion, but I think he envies Beelzebub and Lucifer for their bodies too, plus how popular they can also be. He might word it in an odd fashion, but I think he does believe that they do have traits that, if they aimed for it, make his attempt to be the pretty, adored one of seven to shreds with some more pushing. He could genuinely just admire them as well, but I think its a possible misinterpretation with his rambles that lead to the assumption that he’s a total creep about it.

I mean- is it just me who noticed despite the blush that he seems a bit pouty or upset when he rambles about the good things about his brothers? Again, it could just be how he just looks- but to me it looks like he genuinely does have something he’s not saying about it. He loves them both- Lucifer especially, but he almost seems a bit down.

I think he’s just good at keeping his emotions put away to save face so no one can tell he’s suffering or facing his own inner demons just as much at points, though can let that come down when the times right.

He just needs a good platonic hug, and a reminder that its okay to just be like this at times. Or someone to be his friend- someone needs to make sure he can have a friend who doesn’t want to be near him for those reasons of wanting to keep the cycle going without an end. It won’t stop it from happening, but it’d probably mean a lot to him that one person really doesn’t want that much. He’d spoil them anyway though.

Especially if he ever gets the chance to open up about how dark his side of the story, likely, really is: losing Lilith and also in a situation where he struggled to cope with this new forced identity of a demon at the bottom until things got squared away. Almost a completely different person, who grew to believe that this was one of the only ways he can find to become valid again.

He’d be able to experience, at first, what having someone- an outsider truly care about his own well being just as much as anyone else close to him is like. Get this too- they don’t expect repaid, nor will anything go down if he doesn’t sleep with them, to make up for it! Someone who could listen to his problems like he would for others if he was given that chance to explore some more positive aspects of him. It’d balance him out perfectly.

In the same respect, he could teach someone how to truly care for themselves and watch out for anything that’d hurt them. Seeing him help a few struggling demons- or even humans with their identities and making sure they are safe when they do their own thing would be a good enough eye opener to see there is more behind that guise.

I don’t expect him to change much, but seeing him try to better himself and work with what he can for someone- a love interest he genuinely wants-- or keeping a real friend around would be such a good way to add to his character in my personal opinion. I believe it’s possible, with the right person and resources. He could completely improve a bit and treasure a friend/partner more than he would have ever done before. He’d actually be able to fully get his time to shine and show he’s more than just some lusty flirt. After all, it’s his sin. Not entirely his character. It’s a factor, but not his whole character.

[twistedcharismaaa]

Lost & Found

Summary: You’re living a suffocating life and you finally find breath in Masego.

Author’s Note: Hi guys! I hope you guys are doing well! So I recently fell in love with the artist “Masego”. You guys should really check out his music! It’s beautiful beyond words! I officially have two husbands now. Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this story. Please leave a comment for ya girl! I love you guys and enjoyyyyyyyy!

His concentrated eyes steadily followed her every subtle movement as she quietly dusted the lobby of the hotel. No words were spoken but short glances were exchanged between them. It was something about her dark brown cat-shaped eyes that called out to him. 

“Sir? I said is there anything else I can do for you?” the receptionist quizzed while sliding him his key card to his presidential suite.

The sound of the receptionist’s voice pulled him out of his gaze. He eyed the lady warmly and stuffed his key cards in his pocket. He returned a polite smile to her and thanked her briefly. 

“You said room 444 right?” he questioned.

“Yes, and the elevator is to your right,” she assured.

He swiftly picked up his luggage and proceeded towards the elevator. He brushed passed the woman who was diligently cleaning and winked at her before turning the corner.

----------

“Okay Terri, is there anything else you need from me before I go?” you asked while pushing your cart into the janitor’s closet. 

You wiped the sweat from your brow and smiled at her with tired eyes. You desperately wanted to rest your aching feet and relieve the tension in your shoulders. The day seemed unending and there wasn’t a muscle or joint that wasn’t sore. You pushed your body to its limits after cleaning 20 hotel rooms from top to bottom. Each room had to be swept, dusted, scrubbed, and then polished. Working in an established hotel had its perks and downfalls. The workday was longer and harder, but the pay was decent.

“Before you go, Charisma, I need you to deliver fresh towels to room 444,” she said as she handed you fresh warm all-white towels and cloths.

“Yes ma’am,” you replied.

“Oh, and Charisma?” she questioned.

“What the fuck else does she want now?” you thought.

“Happy Birthday,” she said sweetly.

“Thank you,” you responded lowly.

“Any plans?” 

“I’m sure my boyfriend has something up his sleeve,” you answered while shaking your head.

You knew your boyfriend of two years like the back of your hand. You knew that there was no extravagant surprise waiting for you when you got home or a simple thoughtful gift. After suffering your miscarriage last year, the relationship became strained. Conversations became shorter between each other and the encounters became more awkward. Two warm bodies sharing a queen-sized mattress still felt lonely. There was a hole in your relationship. It often had you wondering if there was a hole left in you. In him? At the time, Des supported you the best way that he could. Maybe you didn’t support him well enough since he never opened up about the loss of the baby. Or maybe he never opened up to you about it?

“Well, I’m going to deliver these towels. Have a good one Terri.” you continued. You clocked out and closed the door behind you to the laundry room. You didn’t want her to pry any further and you didn’t want your head to spin any further.

------

You knocked at the door briefly staring at the numbers 445. You were becoming slightly doubtful in your decision making. Your body is tired and your brain is beyond clouded. So when Terri was giving you instruction earlier, naturally, you tuned her out. 

“Shit, did she say 444 or 445?” you muttered to yourself.

You pressed your ear to the door before knocking again. You faintly heard music playing from inside. 

“Housekeeping!” you yelled while knocking once more.

The room became silent, the door opened abruptly, and your eyes met a tall almond skinned man. His smile was wide and cheerful and his eyes seemed genuine. He wore an opened dark purple silk shirt along with matching silk pants. His shimmering golden saxophone dangled around his neck stylishly. His two-strand twists dangled on his forehead and swung naturally with each passing movement. He leaned on the door casually and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, I’m sorry to disturb you. Did you call the front desk for extra towels?” you questioned with false confidence.

Something about those cat-shaped eyes he thought to himself. Captivating, beautiful.

“Uh, yea actually. I spilled something in my room.” He lied. 

“They didn’t inform me about a spill. Let me go and get further assistance,” you said while handing him the towels.

“Ok ok, that was my attempt at being suave and cool. I didn’t order the towels or anything. I just think you’re beautiful and this is me officially and unofficially shooting my shot.” he said while laughing at himself.

You felt your cheeks become flushed and a smile forms on your lips. Subconsciously, you looked him over and bit your lip.

“Thank you,” you reply while teetering back and forth on your tippy-toes.

“But, I actually have an um boyfriend. His name is Desmonde.” you continued awkwardly.

“I respect that. But you are beautiful though, thank you again for the towels,” he says while backing into his hotel room.

His gaze on you made you feel warm, wanted, and maybe even whole. The way his deep brown eyes lingered on yours and the subtle licking of his pink lips awakened the sleeping parts of you. You were adored by him and you couldn’t help but think of Des. The last time he looked at you like this, you were kissing him slowly and deeply while he embedded his manhood into your silk glistening flesh. That was the night that he admitted that he wanted to start a family with you.

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket incessantly. 

“It was nice meeting you...” you paused waiting for him to formally introduce himself.

“You can call me Micah,” he smirked.

“Nice meeting you, Micah,” you said before you pulled your phone from your pocket. You smiled once more at him and left him standing in the doorway.

“Hey, sorry work ran a little long today. Wassup?” you answered casually.

“They had my girl working hard on her birthday?” he replied.

“Something like that. I’ll be home in 20 minutes.”

“Good, cause I have a surprise for you,” he said eagerly.

“Oh … wow. Ok, I can’t wait to see what it is,” you answer stunned.

“I think you’re going to love it. Just hurry home,” he said.

“Will do.“

----------

You unlocked the door to your small apartment. Instantly, the smell of weed hits your nostrils. You feel your routine irritation grow and with every passing second as the tension heightens in your shoulders. Dishes were left in the sink, ashes rested on your countertop, and empty Henny bottles sat on the kitchen table. Over the last couple of months, Des had picked up a habit of “self-soothing”. You knew depression affected everyone differently, but at the same time, you lost the same thing that he did. An angel that grew in your womb. You experienced the stomach twisting pain while the blood spread down your thighs. You remember the apologetic look in the doctor’s blue eyes as the procedure was performed on you. The loss, the sense of failure and self-worthlessness traveled with you every day. But yet, you get up tirelessly, relentlessly and head to work. Maybe you’re being inconsiderate. Maybe dramatic? Selfish?

“Happy Birthday Charisma,” Des said while kissing your cheek while offering you a hit.

“Where’s that gift you promised me?” you ask while inhaling deeply letting the substance calm you. 

“This shit stronger than usual?” you continue.

“Hell yea, cause it’s my girl’s birthday,” he yells. 

“What your girl wants is for you to clean up this place.” you joke with a serious undertone.

“I’ll clean it up before we leave. I want to take you out. This place has food, live music, and other shit. We haven’t done anything like that in a while.” he replies.

“Baby, I’m a little beat. I just want a hot bath-”

“I got you a cake too, your favorite.” he interrupts.

“Desmonde-” 

“I need this ok? I need a night out and I need it with you baby. Please?” he begged showcasing all of his frustrations.

“Ok, let me shower and get dressed. Whatever you need baby,” you whisper.

After about an hour and a half, your face was fully covered in natural light makeup. Your full lips were covered in dark purple lipstick for a touch of color since you were wearing an all-black dress. Your natural curls were neatly tucked away in a high-puff. You wore silver hoop earrings and lightly sprayed yourself with your favorite fragrance for the finishing touch. You ran your hands over the smoothness of your dress and smiled at yourself in the mirror. Des was right, it had been a while since you’ve both had a date night. 

Desmond knocked on the bathroom door and greeted you with a silent head nod. You smiled at him and twirled yourself in a circle so he could view from all angles. He grabbed your wrist and softly pulled you closer to him.

“Happy Birthday Charisma, I mean it,” he said while kissing your cheek. 

“Damn girl, you look so good. What am I going to do with you?” he  continued.

“You don’t look so bad yourself. You smell good too,” you said while straightening out his silver chain.

“Thank you, baby girl, you ready to go?” you quizzed.

You nodded and followed behind him.

---------

The club was crowded to capacity. You and Desmonde found seats by the bar. The woman next to you smiled at you slyly while sipping on her drink.

“You keep tugging at your dress!” she yelled to you over the music playing the background.

“Yeah! I didn’t realize how short it was or how tall I was! I haven’t been out in a while. Can you tell?” you yelled back while laughing nervously.

“Bartender! Can I get another one of these and then one for my friend? Thank you!” the woman yelled.

“No you shouldn’t have!” you replied.

“I want to! Enjoy yourself on me!” she said before rising from her seat and disappearing into the crowd.

You thanked the bartender for your drink and sipped on it. You noticed that Des’ eyes were glued to his phone. He seemed elsewhere. Distant.

“We could always go back home baby,” you said while rubbing his thigh lovingly.

“Nah, I’m good. You good? Let me just find the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.” he said reassuringly. 

You nodded and watched him disappear into the crowd too.

Desmonde looked down at his phone and texted Brittany frantically. His veins were popping out of his forehead from the steam that was arising from within. His nose flared and his breathing was heavy, uneven. Brittany was the woman that was sitting inches away from his girlfriend earlier at the bar. He had been “seeing” her shortly after the passing of his baby. She was available, a distraction.

“You looking for me baby boy?” she yelled from a dark corner of the club.

“Yo what the fuck Brit! What the fuck was that?” he yelled while towering over her. He placed both hands on the wall cornering her in.

“She looked like a sad puppy, I thought some liquid courage could smooth her poor soul. You should be thanking me.” she spat.

“Watch your mouth,” he replied sternly.

“Or what?” she answered with a raised brow while palming his dick.

Desmonde licked his lips and watched her stroke him.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in this club,” he said.

“So you want it in my car then?” she smirked.

He grabbed her chin and kissed her lips aggressively. 

“Stay the fuck away from Charisma. Got it?” he said before following her out of the club.

------

You were positive that the line to the bathroom was long. You just hoped that Desmonde wouldn’t miss the special guest that was coming to perform. You finished your drink and made your way closer to the stage. The crowd’s energy reached another level. You heard ecstatic screams coming mostly from the women. 

You saw the name “Masego” highlighted in neon colors and a tall man approaching the stage playing his black shimmering saxophone. You swayed casually and listened to the soothing sounds coming from him. He took a breath and grabbed the mic in front of him patting his right foot repeatedly.

 The spotlight finally fixated on him. You could see everything clearly even from a distance. His height, his radiant skin, and that smile. Wait a minute, this all seems familiar. It couldn’t be … it can’t be? Micah?

-----

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

@chaneajoyyy​ @nizzle-mo​ @jamielennkeeler​ @thickemadame​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @pineappear​ 

@ghostfacekill-monger @l-auteuse @soulfood-fics @lostennyc @miss-nneka @blackmissfrizzle @raysunshine78 @iamrheaspeaks @keiva1000 @thadelightfulone @shaekingshitup @qweentbh @justanothernerdgirl @essaysbyciara @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @tyees @big-brows-bigger-dreams @peacefuldesiress

[myforeverforlife]

thinking about you.

For another anon! Chanyeol + Soulmates!au (Mental link) + Enemies to lovers + 1. “Are you sure this is legal?”

Note: (Words in bold and italics like this are character’s thoughts.)

Masterlist

“Y/N, catch!”

You turned around just in time to see the bottle of Gatorade being thrown your way, hands instinctively coming up to catch it. You studied it closely, nose scrunching up in disgust.

“You’re the worst, Nini. Who even likes purple Gatorade?”

Jongin gasped in mock horror, jogging over before taking a seat on the turf beside you. “Don’t knock it till you try it,” he warned.

“I have tried it.” You eyed the Gatorade in his hand — yep, also grape flavored — and sighed. Well, there went your chances of switching with him. “Thanks, but you can have mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You smiled to yourself when Jongin took the bottle happily. “How much longer until our break is over?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Jongin was struggling to get the cap of his drink off, alternating between using his shirt and wiping the sweat off of his hands. “Yixing will come get us when it’s time to head back inside.”

“You know, sometimes I feel bad that he’s our section leader. He’s too nice for his own good.”

“Well then maybe you should help him out by focusing more during band practice.” With a grunt, Jongin finally got his drink open, guzzling down the sugary treat like he had been parched for days.

“Hey, I do focus! Come on, you can’t honestly say that I haven’t been working my ass off.”

Jongin shrugged, taking a break from his Gatorade to give you the side-eye. “You’d do better if you stopped checking out the football team every chance you got.” He nodded towards the other end of the field, the uniformed group of boys talking to each other in small groups.

“Listen, it’s not my fault that the football team is full of attractive guys. Well, except for one.”

“You know, Chanyeol really isn’t that bad — ”

“He brought his ferret to school in second grade and laughed when it pooped in my desk! And, he got mad at me when I told the teacher he was trying to copy off of Jongdae’s test in Chemistry last year.”

“Okay, but still — ”

“No, no ‘buts’ about it. Park Chanyeol has done nothing but be a pain in my ass since we were kids. He hasn’t changed since then, and he never will. I hope one day during one of his games, he falls flat on his face in front of everyone.”

“Ouch.” The new voice had you flinching in surprise, your ponytail a blur as you spun around to see who was talking — although you had a pretty good guess who it was. Sure enough, Park Chanyeol stood there in his uniform, football helmet cradled under his arm. “You know, they say that karma’s a bitch. I wouldn’t want you to be on the receiving end of that,” he said with a smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up, arms crossed over your chest as you stomped past him. “The field’s all yours, Chanyeol. Try not to let your ego take up too much space,” you hissed as you passed.

“Have fun at practice!” he called out after you, voice booming. “Make sure you don’t drop your clarinet, Butterfingers!”

You bit back the retort waiting at the tip of your tongue. Of course he just had to keep bringing up the one mishap you had during a football game, nearly two years ago. It had been your first time performing at a halftime show, and your hands been so shaky that you had dropped your clarinet while performing on the field, right in front of the football teams and the entire crowd. You didn’t talk to him often, but whenever you came face to face with Chanyeol, it always ended up with him teasing you mercilessly.

You were absolutely sure that Chanyeol would never be anything more than a jerk.

You didn’t hate your creative writing class, but since it was your first class of the day, you were often tempted to just close your eyes and take a mini-nap.

Just as you were about to lay your head down on your desk, you could hear Park Chanyeol worry about how to find the derivative of some equation. Sitting upright, you looked around the classroom only to find no trace of Chanyeol anywhere. So why in the hell could you hear him like he was sitting right behind you?

Chanyeol continued to go through the steps of his math equation, driving you crazier with each passing second. You stood up, desk bumping into the seat in front of you. “I need to go to the nurse, I’m not feeling well,” you blurted out.

Your teacher stared at you, caught off guard in the midst of his lecture before nodding towards the door. “Take the hall pass with you.”

And so, with the hall pass lanyard hanging from your neck, you went stomping through the hallways in search of Park Chanyeol. He had moved through a series of equations, and no matter how hard you tried to block his voice out, you could still hear his thoughts.

You weren’t sure which class he was in, but there were only two teachers who taught pre-calculus. Heading down the math hallway, you peeked inside one room, blushing when everyone in the class turned to look at you. Another cursory glance proved that Chanyeol wasn’t in this room. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dashing down the hall to the other class.

This room was rowdier than the last one, students working in groups on the worksheets scattered over their desks. Spotting Chanyeol in the back, you paused in the doorway when he noticed you. “Y/N?”

“Sir, can I borrow Chanyeol for a minute? We’re supposed to collect and put up the flyers for the football game this week.”

Chanyeol’s math teacher brushed this off, not even looking up from his laptop. Chanyeol, on the other hand, remained in his seat, clearly puzzled. “Why is she here?”

“Come on!” you were waving him over, foot tapping impatiently against the floor. The sooner you two got to the bottom of this, the sooner you’d be free of his thoughts — you hoped.

Hesitantly, Chanyeol got up from his seat, weaving between chairs and desks before reaching the door. “What?” he grumbled out.

You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him away from the classroom. Chanyeol’s thoughts were colored with surprise and oddly enough, shyness? You led him to the library, knowing that people wouldn’t spot either one of you from this side of the building. Dropping his hand, you were taken aback to hear how Chanyeol immediately missed having your hand in his. You shook your head to rid the thoughts, trying to focus on why you had dragged him out here.

“This is gonna sound insane, but I can literally hear everything you’re thinking right now. Yes, everything,” you added when he raised an eyebrow in doubt.

Chanyeol laughed skeptically. “Yeah, right. What’s next, you’re gonna tell me you have x-ray vision too? Nice try, Y/N, but I’m not that dumb. Why did you even pull me out of class?” His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting upwards. “Wait, there’s no flyers to collect, huh? Are you sure this is legal, just talking in the hallways like this during class? Ah crap, we’re gonna get detention if we’re caught and — ”

“Listen to me! I don’t know how this happened, but one second I was trying not to fall asleep in creative writing, and the next thing I knew, I could hear you thinking about how to do pre-calc.”

Chanyeol stared at you like you had three eyeballs, backing away slowly. “Okay, I’m gonna say that you need to lay off the coffee and get some more sleep at night.” You could hear the thoughts racing in his head, all about how he was worried and yet curious as to why you were having a decent conversation with him.

“I’m telling the truth, I’ll prove it! Think of something right now.”

One corner of Chanyeol’s lips jumped up as he snorted, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes you are! Now, quick!”

He sighed, staring up at the hallway overhang above both of you.

“Pokemon! You’re thinking about getting the new game before Baekhyun does!” you blurted out, no longer caring about sounding crazy.

Chanyeol’s mouth fell open, trying to speak and failing to string together a comprehensive sentence. “You... how... how did you know that?”

“You believe me now?”

“Wait, but how come you only hear me? And why don’t I get to hear your thoughts? This is so unfair!”

You shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I’m more mature. Oh — I am half a year older than you.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes with a huff. “Yeah, well whatever it is, it’s already getting on my nerves. Just try to stay out of my head.”

“Uh, I would if I could. Just try to keep your thoughts PG for my sake. God, I really hope that this goes away soon.”

Unluckily for both of you, you were plagued with listening to Chanyeol’s not even for the rest of the day, but for the rest of the week.

“This is fucking torture,” you groaned, lying down on the football field as Jongin shrugged sympathetically. “Do you know many times I’ve wished I could clean out my brain in the past week?”

“We still don’t know why this is happening though,” Jongin thought aloud. “I’ve never heard of this before. Do you think its another soulmate thing?”

You scoffed, rolling over onto your side as the fake grass poked your arms and legs. “If we were soulmates, I’d have a dream about it, not be able to hear his every thought.”

“Well, there’s not much difference. Dreams, hearing thoughts — they both have to do with the mind. Maybe soulmate links just manifest in different ways. Are you sure you don’t want to tell your parents?”

“And end up in the hospital? Nah, I’ll just wait it out and hope for the best. I mean, this is just a really long and weirdly descriptive hallucination, right?”

“Y/N?”

You sighed, sitting up as soon as you recognized the voice. “What is it now, Chanyeol?”

The bane of your existence this past week stared at you blankly, his football bag in one hand and hair sweaty from running. God, you hated to admit it, but he actually did look sort of hot.

Chanyeol’s already large eyes grew bigger, if that was even possible, and he dropped his bag in surprise. “You think I look hot?”

“What the fuck?” you spluttered out, back of your neck heating up in embarrassment. “How do you know that?”

“Y/N, I can hear you. I literally just started hearing your thoughts as I was entering the locker room,” Chanyeol explained slowly, still trying to make himself believe it.

“No fucking way.”

“I’m not kidding.”

You gasped upon hearing his response in your head, hand flying up to your mouth while Jongin stared from you to Chanyeol in confusion. “What, so now you guys can both hear each other?” He didn’t get an answer, seeing as you and Chanyeol were mentally yelling at each other. He rolled his eyes, poking you in the shoulder. “Hey, I want to know what’s happening too.”

“I think you’re right,” Chanyeol spoke up, addressing Jongin. “About the soulmate thing. It’s not common, but there have been people out there like us.”

“Like who?” you countered.

“My aunt and uncle. I didn’t want to say anything at first cause I was worried I’d be wrong, you know since it was only you hearing me. And well,” Chanyeol rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve never really liked me anyways.”

“Because all you did was annoy the hell out of me!”

“I’m sorry, okay! It’s just... you’re cute when you get all mad like that. You’re funny, especially when you get mad at me,” he admitted with a sheepish smile.

You were at a loss for words. Park Chanyeol had a crush on you?

“Yes,” he answered your thoughts. God, it would take a while to get used to this. “I... can we talk about this after practice? We can call my aunt and ask her about this too.”

There really was no other choice, since this was the first time you had ever heard about any sort of soulmate link like this. And hard as you might try to deny it, Chanyeol was slowly growing on you. Getting to know him through his thoughts this past week hadn’t been the worst, despite what you had been complaining to Jongin not less than ten minutes ago. He was charming and sweet, something you had never noticed because of the limited view you had of him.

Chanyeol smiled to himself as he could hear you thinking, the tips of his ears turning pink. “So is that a yes?”

You nodded, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

Chanyeol laughed in relief, picking up his football bag and starting to walk backwards, towards the locker room. “I’ll meet you outside the band room!” he called out, before breaking into a run.

From this angle, he looked much like the other football players you had spent hours checking out. You blinked rapidly, unable to look away even as Chanyeol stopped to look over his shoulder. His eyes searched until he found you, smile turning playful and sending shivers down your spine. “I can hear you thinking about how good I look. I mean, how good my butt looks.”

“Just go to practice, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol laughed, able to hear you sulking even in your thoughts even as he ran off, disappearing into the locker room.

“See you later.”

A/N: these drabble requests aren’t even drabbles anymore, I’m enjoying all of these prompts way too much to keep them under 1k lol

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Darkness Turns to Light (Eiji Kikumaru)

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 1,627

Pairing: Reader x Kikumaru

World: Prince of Tennis

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Y/N!” A faint voice called out.

“Y/N!” The voice grew louder.

“Y/N!” It sounded so familiar.

“Ouch!” you whined after you were hit in the head with Inui’s black notebook. You rubbed your head and looked up to see your annoyed captain – who had taken Inui’s notebook – standing in front of you. “What’d I do?”

He sighed, resting his fingers to his forehead. “You were daydreaming.”

“Again,” Inui added, appearing next to the captain and taking his notebook back before disappearing.

Sure enough, you had started to daydream once school ended. You didn’t even remember entering the Seigaku tennis courts yet, there you were, racket in hand, leaning against the fence.

Tezuka sighed, “Start practicing.” And then he walked away.

“‘Kay~” you called out, heading off in search of an opponent.

By the time practice ended, you felt exhausted. You had gone around challenging one person right after the other. In the end, you had almost challenged every member of the Seigaku tennis club, seventh graders and regulars alike. Most of the matches you did win, though.

You fought Taka and won by one game. Fought Arai and won. Fought Eiji and tied. Fought Momo and won by two games. Fought Fuji and lost. You were about to ask Echizen for a match, but Tezuka declared that practice was over before you had the chance to reach him.

“Oi, Y/N!” Momo ran up to you, pulling you into a hug. “You know you’re the greatest, right?”

You scoffed, pushing the black-haired boy off of you. “Yes, I’ll treat you to lunch, Momo.”

He grinned, jumping into the air. “Let’s go, Echizen!”

The seventh-grade boy looked over at his senpai and sighed as Momo grabbed him and started to haul him off towards the burger joint. You grabbed your things and followed.

“Wait up!” Eiji ran after you and grinned as he fell into step beside you, walking by your side.

“That hurts, Momo-senpai!” Ryoma complained as Momo brought the boy into a tight headlock.

“You’re gonna kill him, Momo!” Eiji whined, rushing forward and pulling him away from Momo. In turn, he brought him into a bone-crushing hug, “Are you okay, Ochibi?”

“He won’t be when the two of you get through with him,” you muttered to yourself, chuckling as the two boys fought over the smaller boy. He looked over at you for help. With a grin, you snuck past the bickering boys and grabbed Echizen’s hand before taking off running.

“Hey! Get back here!” Eiji and Momo chorused, rushing after you.

You stuck your tongue out at them and picked up speed, dashing into the burger joint and finding a booth to sit in. Ryoma smiled up at you, “Thanks, senpai.”

“Sure, sure.” You waved him off as you sat down. He slid in next to you.

When the other two finally caught up, they came in huffing and puffing like they’d just ran two-hundred laps around the school. Momo went to order after taking money from you and Eiji, while Eiji slid in across from you.

“That was so unfair, Y/N!” Eiji pouted.

You smiled, “Sorry, Eiji. But the two of you were gonna kill poor Echizen.”

“Was not!” he argued, “I was trying to save him!”

“In saving him, you were smothering him.”

He stuck his tongue out at you and slid over as Momo came back with a tray filled with food. He left to get the drinks and came back, sitting next to Eiji who had already unwrapped his burger and began eating it. Momo ate five double cheeseburgers, Ryoma ate three double cheeseburgers and a large fry, Eiji ate two double cheeseburgers and a 12 piece chicken nugget, while you ate three double cheeseburgers.

Ryoma and Momo decided to have a contest to see who could finish their food first. You and Eiji watched on in horror and amusement as the two boys stuffed their faces. Their cheeks were puffed out, making them resemble chipmunks which made you both burst out laughing. The two boys froze and looked over at you, trying to utter out a, “What?” without much success.

Once the eating contest was over, Momo and Echizen took off towards their houses, moaning and groaning in pain as they went. You and Eiji lived near each other so you walked together, laughing about the two as you made your way back home.

“We did warn them that they were eating too much,” you commented.

Eiji nodded, “And too fast. They never listen, though.”

You chuckled, “They never learn, either.”

“Hey, do you wanna come over tomorrow?” Eiji grinned, “My family is going on this family shopping trip out of town. Since I have practice tomorrow, I told them I couldn’t make it but they’re gonna be gone for a couple hours! I’m gonna be bored!”

You laughed and nodded, “Sure, Eiji!”

His grin grew and his eyes sparkled as he hugged you tightly, “Thank you!”

“Don’t get so excited, Eiji.” you poked him and he smiled.

“I’ll make us some lunch, too! I’ve been meaning to try out this new recipe I learned.”

Eiji was pretty capable of cooking a decent meal without burning the house down, which most of the kids your age seemed to have trouble with. You’ve known him for a while now, but never actually tasted Eiji’s cooking before so you felt pretty excited at the thought of getting to try it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Eiji!” you called back as you entered the house.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

The next day seemed to melt away and you soon found yourself at the tennis courts once again. ‘I’ve got to stop daydreaming so much,’ you thought as you tried to remember just how your day had gone. It seemed to slip you, however.

“Y/N!” Eiji grinned as he glomped you from behind.

You laughed, patting his arm. “Hi, Eiji!”

“Are you ready?” he asked, excitedly. “Huh, huh? Are ya, are ya?”

“Calm down, Eiji.” you chuckled, grabbing onto his shoulders to make him stay still, “How much sugar have you had today, exactly?”

He stopped bouncing and put his index finger to his chin in thought, “I dunno. I had a can of soda at lunch. I ate some powered sugar on my omelet this morning. Oooh! And Momo gave me some candy when I got to school!”

You sweatdropped, “Should have known.”

“Hurry up! Hurry up!” he whined, pulling you towards the exit.

You chuckled as you grabbed your things, following the hyper active ninth grader out of the courts and towards his home.

“I went with my sister last night to get the things I needed.” he told you as he entered the empty house. “Make yourself at home, ‘k?”

You nodded, plopping down on the couch in the living room. Eiji’s house was quite beautiful and had a nice homey feel to it, very warm and inviting. You could hear Eiji messing around in the kitchen as you looked around the room. One thing that caught your attention was a photo album that was set off to the side. Curiousity got the best of you and you stood up to grab it, sitting back down and flipping it open. At the front of the book were a bunch of pictures from when Eiji was younger. He looked so adorable! You smiled warmly as you flipped the page. Eiji was cute as a baby and a young child, but he’s even more adorable now.

“Y/N~!” Eiji called from the kitchen, making you jump in surprise, nearly dropping the album. “Come here a sec!”

You set the book back down in its original position and walked into the kitchen. Eiji was going back and fourth between several different bowls.

“Can you give me a hand, please?” he pouted, “I took on too much at once.”

You giggled, “Sure thing. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

He grinned and hugged you, “‘Kay!”

“What are you making, anyway?” you wondered.

“Spicy tuna rolls!” he grinned, “I need you to make the cake, okay?”

“Sure,” you smiled, getting out the ingredients as he called them out.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Thirty minutes later, you had both the spicy tuna rolls and the cake done, and decorated. You hummed, picking up one of the tuna rolls and popping it into your mouth. “This tastes amazing!”

Eiji smiled proudly, “I’m glad you like it! It’s actually the first time I’ve made them.”

“You’re a natural, Eiji.” you told him.

He chewed on his bottom lip shyly, moving closer to you. “You said for me to tell you what to do, right?”

You nodded, slightly confused as to where he was going with this. “Well, yeah. I said I would help you but I wanted to do it your way.”

Eiji was silent for a moment, having an internal debate with himself before finally speaking. “Kiss me. I’m telling you to kiss me.”

The request surprised you, making you blink dumbly.

Seeing your hesitation, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just kidding~”

You smiled, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. His hand found its way to your neck, pulling you closer in order to deepen the kiss, but he pressed himself forward too far, causing you to lose your balance, falling backward onto the floor with him on top. He pulled back from the kiss, grinning as he sat on your stomach with his hands on either side of your head.

“I have one more order for you.” He stated, staring down into your eyes.

“And what would that be?” you hummed, pushing away a strand of red hair from his face.

“Be my partner,”

“Gladly,” you smiled, pulling him down into another gentle kiss.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[belphegor1982]

For the prompts challenge, Rick and Jonathan for #33 (Expectations) and/or #51 (Sport)

I almost went with the second one because I could picture them chatting during one of Alex’s cricket matches, but then I realised I’d have to actually understand cricket (and/or baseball) rules, so... There you go :D

Unexpected

(read on AO3 if you prefer!)

“‘Expect the unexpected’? What sort of a motto is that?”

“You gotta admit, it’s worked for me so far, right?”

“But you can’t expect the unexpected, that’s why it’s unexpected in the first place – oh for God’s sake, are they still shooting?”

There were worst places to be, Jonathan supposed, than hunkering down at the bottom of a narrow L-shaped passageway cut into a hillside while determined people were shooting at you. Right now, though, he couldn’t think of a single one. The only redeeming feature was the company.

“What else do you want them to do, a méchoui?”

Jonathan put aside the creeping panic for thirty seconds to prod his somewhat rusty Arabic back to life.

“A… roast?”

It was almost impossible to be sure in the darkness, but Jonathan thought Rick turned to him and grinned.

“You guys didn’t have that in Egypt? Must be Moroccan, then. I had one in Rabat once. It’s sheep cooked on a spit, with the whole family and neighbours invited. Kind of a big deal.”

“Sorry, old boy, doesn’t ring a bell. Sounds nice, though.”

Rick ducked out of their shelter for a second to shoot once, then twice into their assailants to make them keep their distance. Jonathan, whose only gun had run out of bullets about an hour ago, flattened himself against the wall to give him room. They’d been playing that little game for something like an hour now.

Why don’t you go with Rick, Evy had said, reconnoitre perhaps, and he knew his sister enough to translate it as “I really need to work on this for a while with no distractions.” Well, that was fine by him, really, as he was quite happy to let her be the Egyptologist while he got to play tourist. So he tagged along with his brother-in-law, chatting amiably, until Rick – who took his unofficial role as ‘head of security’ seriously – had decided to go investigate the next wadi and they had come face to face with a band of marauders. Since that very band had been known for picking off diggers when archaeological operations were conducted in places they didn’t like, nobody had been very civil, shots had been fired, and measures had had to be taken – viz, running like hell into the first hole in the ground Jonathan and Rick could find, hoping it led somewhere safe, or failing that, was a decent enough shelter. Too bad they couldn’t find a tunnel high enough to actually stand in.

Maybe there was something to be said for “being prepared”, as Rick had once put it. It certainly helped that the American had been carrying two pistols and quite a few clips. At least it made the raiders think twice before storming their passageway.

God, he needed a drink. Too bad his hip flask probably lay somewhere between there and Nefertari’s tomb…

“Maybe we could have something like that when the dig’s done,” said Rick as though he had not just dodged a storm of bullets so bad it had widened the bend in the passageway.

This was a really shoddy wall, Jonathan decided with the small part of himself that was not either terrified or making ironic comments from the back seat. Bullets were supposed to flatten themselves on earth and rocks, he’d seen it happen, but this wall just let itself be shredded without putting much of a fight. Frightfully bad form.

Jonathan forced himself to take a steady breath and asked, somewhat distractedly, “Something like what? I lost the thread, I’m afraid.”

“A méchoui. Something to celebrate the end of the dig and whatever discoveries Evy will have made. What do you think?”

A sarcastic retort rose in Jonathan’s mind, but he bit down on it. Behind the unnatural calm of the seasoned soldier he could hear Rick struggling to breathe evenly, just like he was.

Well. Much as he hated to admit it, Rick’s stubborn American optimism was a comfort, in its way. Maybe Jonathan could return the favour and offer a bit of English stiff upper-lip, even if he knew he was rubbish at it.

“I think it’s a jolly good idea,” he said, fighting to keep the irony to a minimum. “Give us all something to look forward to…”

His voice trailed off and he grabbed Rick’s arm in the dark.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” came Rick’s sharp whisper.

“Shh – listen.”

What greeted their ears was silence – unexpected, complete silence.

Then it was pandemonium. Gunfire, shouts, screams, bullets ricocheting everywhere, a tumult that sent Jonathan and Rick huddling at the end of their tunnel, desperately trying to make the smallest targets possible.

It took them a while to realise silence had fallen again, until the last sound they could possibly expect finally reached them.

“Rick? Jonathan? Are you in there?”

Jonathan blinked earth from eyes he didn’t remember closing. The flickering light of a nearby torch was a stab in the brain after getting used to the darkness, but at least it allowed him to see Rick’s jaw dropping.

“Evy!?”

And then she was there, kneeling in front of them, one hand holding the torch and the other running over Rick’s face and Jonathan’s shoulders as if to make sure they really were there.

“Oh thank God,” she said fervently. “When Tariq said he’d heard shots I immediately thought of those raiders from the other day, so I rallied Saleh and Ibrahim and any of the diggers who had experience in handling guns, but I was so afraid we’d be too late…”

As usual, when she was rattled, she was unstoppable. Words tumbled out of her, pronunciation crisp and clipped but without much punctuation. It took Rick taking her hand and rubbing her forearm to get her to slow down and breathe.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, we’re okay. You got there just in time.”

“With the cavalry in tow, no less,” added Jonathan with a somewhat shaky smile. “Since we’re all intact, against all odds, why don’t we continue this elsewhere? Preferably outside.”

He rose, miscalculated the height of the tunnel, and banged his head against a surprisingly hard and smooth surface.

“Ow! Of all the bloody—”

“Jonathan!” Evy exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

Jonathan rubbed his scalp, wondering if the spots dancing in front of his eyes came from the torch or the impact.

“Yes, but as I was saying, since nobody’s shooting at us anymore I would really like to get the hell out of –”

“Wait a minute,” said Rick slowly. “Is that a wall?”

Jonathan blinked, confused.

“You mean the ceiling?”

“No,” breathed Evy, her eyes shining in the firelight. “This is stone – this was built. I think we might be standing under something, so to speak. Here, hold this.”

She handed her torch to Rick, took out a hard brush from one of her pockets, and began to clear away the dirt.

“It’s a staircase, leading into the hill! The tomb must be a much larger complex than I thought if… Oh, if I could just find an entrance –”

“Evy,” said Rick, “I’m gonna dispatch Mahmud to Luxor so the authorities can deal with the remaining raiders, and then I’m gonna send Tariq and his team to give you a hand here. Be careful in the meantime. Okay?”

“Mh-hm. I mean yes, you do that, thank you. They’ll need to prop up here and widen there –”

She was in full archaeologist mode, talking to herself as she worked, and Jonathan (who, knowing his sister like he did, was familiar with that mode and its derivatives, namely ‘scholar mode’, ‘librarian mode’, and ‘Egyptologist mode’) knew they had temporarily lost her to her passion.

“See what I meant about expectations?” asked Rick as they made their way towards the opening of the tunnel, following light that grew brighter and brighter. Jonathan gingerly shook dirt out of his hair, mindful of the lump on the top of his skull.

“No, not really. What about expectations?”

This time there was well enough light to see Rick’s four-hundred-teeth grin.

“Well,” he said, “that’s the thing about expecting the unexpected – you’re never disappointed.”

Jonathan shot him a deadpan look. Then he gave in to the smile he could feel pulling at his lips. Maybe there was something to that philosophy, after all.

“I’m going to hold you to that méchoui idea, you know,” he remarked once they finally stood in blessed, blinding sunshine, squinting like a couple of moles.

Rick laughed.

______________________

I love the brothers-in-law. Seriously. Wish there were more fics (and better written than mine) that feature the two of them bantering and being ridiculous and united in their love of Evy ♥

Incidentally, I’ve been to a méchoui or two when I was a kid – probably organised by a friend of my mum’s – and I have fond memories of it. To my young eyes it looked very impressive, that big fire against the night, people talking and laughing as we all ate.

[haveanotherfandomblog]

Avenger’s Preferences

How You Meet Pt. 2

A/N: Someone in my family works in the V.A. so yes, I know what I’m talking about.

Peter-

Switching schools was never something you liked. Always being the new kid and having to recreate a whole new life was always so hard and frustrating. You tried to be a lone wolf, but your bubbly and friendly personality just wouldn’t let you. So when you inevitably moved, it was always full of tears.

This time was no different. Your family had relocated to New York City for your father’s business. You were in a new school surrounded by people you didn’t know. While their faces all blurred together, you stuck out like a sore thumb. You knew everyone was staring at you as you made your way to your new locker. Once you found it, you found that it did not want to cooperate and open.

“Son of a bitch,” you mumbled, shaking the lock. You rested your head against the cool metal.

“Need some help with that?” A tall girl with dark skin, black, frizzy hair, and glasses stood a little down the way. She was leaning against another locker, her arms crossed over her chest. You stood up straight, pulling your mouth into a thin line.

“That’d be great, thanks,” you said. She pushed herself off the locker. She came over to your locker, jiggling the lock before hitting it with her elbow. It swung open with complete ease.

“These things suck,” she told you. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Uh, no. I’m new. My name’s Y/N. Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out, a smile on your face. She took your hand hesitantly.

“Hey, I’m--”

“MJ!” Behind you, two boys were waving at the girl, MJ. One was on the heavier side with tan skin and dark hair. The other one was a slim, fit guy with pale skin and light brown hair.

“MJ! We’ve been looking for you,” the first guy said.

“Guys. This is Y/N. She’s new,” MJ said. “Y/N, this is Ned and Peter--a couple of losers.” You giggled, holding out your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you guys,” you said. Ned shook your hand with a big smile. Peter gave your hand a shake, a tight-lipped smile on his face. “As wonderful as it’s been meeting you all, I should head to class. See you guys!” You skipped off down the hall, searching for your first class.

Sam-

When you had returned from Iraq, you were so happy to be home. Your family had thrown a small get-together to celebrate your safe return. Everyone was so proud of you for serving your country. Your parents had offered to let you stay with them until you found yourself a job and an apartment. With a good record, and an honorable discharge, it shouldn’t be hard.

It was two months before you landed a job as a receptionist at the V. A. Center in D.C. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but you made decent money. However, living in D.C. was expensive. Finding a place seemed almost impossible, even with a job. Luckily your parents were extremely understanding.

After about three months at the V. A., you had your job down pretty well. Most of the time you were answering calls from local and nationwide veterans. Most were nice, inquiring about certain medical options and wanting help through the transition back into normal society. Some veterans weren’t as friendly and called to complain about how the government treated them or simply to yell.

You had finished another call and were logging it when someone cleared their throat. You tapped on the board that was in front of you. You listened as the pen scratched across the paper for the visitor. Once you finished your log you glanced up.

A handsome stranger stood in front of your desk, a half-smile on his face. You smiled back, heat rising up your neck.

“Welcome to the V. A. Center, how can I help you?” you asked, fidgeting with your hands.

“I’m Sam Wilson. I have an interview in about twenty-minutes,” he told you. You nodded, sliding down a bit to the other phone. You picked it up, dialing the three numbers to your boss’ office.

“Sir, there’s a Sam Wilson here to see you,” you informed him. “Yes sir.” You slid back down to Mr. Wilson. “He’ll be here shortly, he’s finishing up a meeting.”

Mr. Wilson nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs. You tried your best to not stare, but not staring was never your strong suit. Mr. Wilson was tall, dark, and handsome, how could you not stare? He was sitting back in the chair, his ankle resting on his knee. His arm was thrown over the back of the chair as he stared down the hall.

“Can I ask you something Mr. Wilson?” you inquired, pretending to type on the computer as if you hadn’t spent the last five minutes staring at him.

“Please, Sam is fine,” he said.

“Okay, Sam, can I ask you something?” He nodded. “What branch did you serve?”

“Army,” he replied. You nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“So when they do a men of the Army calendar, is it just twelve months of you?” He paused for a moment before laughing. “What? Don’t like it?” You shot him a wink, a smirk on your face.

“I like it quite a lot, actually… what’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

Bucky-

It took years and years of studying and hard work, but becoming the leading psychiatrist in dealing and helping soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS), formerly PTSD. You never experienced it personally, but you had neighbors and friends who suffered from it growing up. You wanted to do something helpful in the world, something good, so you dedicated your life to finding ways to work through what others had experienced. Your reputation began to precede you, and that was how you were flown across the world to help one of the worst cases you’d ever seen.

The patient was a Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He served in World War I where he was presumed KIA, Killed In Action. That was until about four years ago when he resurfaced as an assassin for an organization that was almost gone. The more you read, the wilder his story seemed to get. Reading his file, which was quite extensive, covered almost the entire flight to Wakanda.

King T’Challa stood ready to greet you when your plane landed. You bowed your head respectively, taking in the empty fields that surrounded you. He shook your hand firmly, offering you a warm smile.

“Welcome to Wakanda Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Thank you for having me, Your Majesty,” you said. “You have beautiful, open lands.”

“You’re much too kind. If you would follow me this way.” He held his hand out and began guiding you across one of the fields. Birds chirped above you as you made your trek over the verdant hills.

Just over the last hill was a single hut. Goats roamed around freely, munching on grass and bleating. King T’Challa gestured to the hut, staring at it solemnly.

“White Wolf lives there. He lives happily in solitude, but human interaction is important. The world says you are the best in your field. Please, help him,” the King said. You nodded your head.

“Nothing is guaranteed,” you reminded him. “My methods aren’t a one-hundred percent success, but I will do my best.”

“That is all we ask.”

You nodded one more time before resuming your walk to the small hut, this time alone. The goats were curious about you, pausing their lunch to stare at you. One particularly small one ran to you, nudging its head against your leg.

“Steve, be nice.”

A new voice caught your attention. His hair was longer and his beard was fuller, but you recognized the man as Sergeant Barnes. He stood in the doorway of the hut, staring down at the tiny goat that was now nibbling at the bottom of your pants. He wore white, traditional, Wakanda clothing. A white bandage covered the stub where his arm once was. He would have seemed peaceful were it not for the dark, solemn gaze in his eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you called, bending down to pick up the goat. He looked up at you. “Sergeant Barnes my name is Dr. Y/N L/N. King T’Challa asked me to help you transition back into civilian society.” He nodded his head slowly. The goat, Steve, nestled into your chest, nibbling your shirt. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Of course,” he said, moving aside so you could enter his hut. Setting the goat down, you stepped inside the small hut. It was bare for the most part, only the necessities were present. You took a seat on a nearby chair, watching him carefully. He took a seat across from you, awkwardly shifting in his seat.

“Sergeant Barnes, I would like to preface this by saying I am here to help you, and if what we do isn’t helping, it’s okay to say that,” you said.

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name… it’s Bucky.” You smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you Bucky. I’m Y/N.”

Loki-

Rehabilitation, patience, and forgiveness were some of your core beliefs. You also believed that good was in everyone, no matter what bad deeds they did, no matter how lost they seemed, with the right guidance and a voice of encouragement, you truly believed that anyone could redeem themselves. Because of this firm belief, you started a rehabilitation center in your kingdom which grew into the biggest and most successful rehabilitation center in the world.

Being the princess of a small country was hard, but this success gave your country exactly what it needed--money. Which sounded worse than it actually was. The world runs on money and your people weren’t exactly millionaires, but being paid to rehabilitate both petty and hardened criminals was surprisingly a great way to make money.

So much so that King T’Challa of Wakanda, an old childhood friend of yours, asked a favor from an American aquanitice of his. Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries and Avenger, had been asked by his fellow Avenger, Thor to seek a place for his trickster brother. You had heard all about New York in the news, but you never expected that to have an affect on your country. You weren’t so sure until Thor offered to pay in pure gold. That, you simply couldn’t refuse.

You stood on the runway, watching as the plane carrying your latest case began to touch down. The wind whipped your hair around your face, but your sunglasses protected your eyes. The wind settled once the plane came to a stop. The door opened and the first to exit was King T’Challa.

“Your Majesty,” you called. He smiled at you as he descended the stairs.

“Your Highness,” he greeted. He jogged over to you, skipping all formalities to give you a heartfelt hug. “It has been too long, old friend.”

“Much too long,” you agreed. A posse of people had followed him. Guards from Wakanda, Tony Stark, Thor, and his brother, Loki.

“Princess Y/N, this is my American acquaintance, Tony Stark.”

“Yes, Stark Industries precedes you.” He bowed to you respectfully.

“Your Highness, this is Thor and his troublesome brother Loki,” Stark said, gesturing to the two giant men beside him. Loki was bound in unique chains and had his face covered so you could only see his eyes.

“Welcome, gentlemen. We are happy to welcome you to our small corner of the world. If you all would follow me,” you said. You looped your arm through T’Challa’s, leading them to the facilities where Loki would be kept. “While your brother is a rather unique guest, we will be treating him like we treat everyone else here. Because of his abilities, he will be placed in a special room designed specifically for him.”

“How do you know it will hold Reindeer Games over here?” Stark asked, sending a pointed look to Loki. You smiled.

“I had a top engineer design it using advanced technologies that could put your entire company to shame,” you said. A smirk pulled at T’Challa’s mouth at the mention of his sister.

“You are very kind for doing this Princess Y/N,” Thor said. “I know with the right guidance, my brother will come back to who he used to be. Loki rolled his eyes at that, opting to look out the window. From the corner of your eye, you could see him staging at your reflection through the glass.

“It’s my pleasure.”

[sweetpea-skarsgard-blog]

I’ll Be Waiting // Ambrose Spellman Imagine *smut*

((so this was hastily written and is probably full of bad grammar and is generally crappy. But as always I hope that it is good enough for someone to enjoy! I just love Ambrose so much <3 )) 

Warnings: smut, sexy, right into it- smut.

Just lying in bed seemed to be one of the males favorite pass times, staring up at his ceiling as he remembered his last tryst with his beautiful lover, Y/N. It had been months since he’d seen the young woman, no doubt traipsing around some foreign country and making the best of her life. But how could the man blame her, when he was the one who might as well have been shackled to this building. All because he dared to defy the Vatican, nearly exposing their kind.

Okay, so maybe the punishment fit the crime, having been spared the death penalty that the witches and Warlocks of the Church of Night loved to just hand out with ease. But he was still going to pout about  it, given the fact that he could never just go and find his lover- or experience the warm spring air of Paris once again. He knew that his torture could all be over if he would just give over the names of his co-conspirators.. But Ambrose Spellman was no snitch. He wasn't about to forsake his fellow witches and warlocks just to have his days in the sun once more. He could manage… even if at the moment all that he had were his thoughts to fully entertainment- that, and the promise that one day you would return to him.

It was a warm summer evening in the Spellman Mortuary, Sabrina having gone off with her mortal friends, Hilda out to the market, and Zelda off in the Church of Night for one of her most devout services. You were just lying beside Ambrose on his bed, tracing your fingers over the skin of his chest as his robe lay open, the man much to lazy to close it. Then again, it wasn't as though he felt the need to. You were the one person that he could feel completely at ease with- and given the fact that this old house lacked air conditioning, the fan of his bedroom was the only thing keeping the two of you from giving into the sweltering heat.

“Ambrose.. You know that I can do a snow spell.. Something to cool down the room a bit.” you muttered, preferring to have it a bit cooler so that it wouldn't seem so uncomfortable to be so close to him. But at your mention of the use of magic, Ambrose simply chuckled. “And then have you complaining about your toes being cold? Dear.. I know that you think it would help- but I doubt that I would appreciate shovelling snow out of my bedroom window when things get out of hand.” he teased, latting his touch linger on the exposed skin of your arm, before moving gently up and down the soft flesh.

You just groaned and then shook your head. “Well you’d best get your shovel then.. Because I plan on doing it.. Besides.. If it gets too cold, then you can just warm me up… I know that you have no problem finding the best ways of doing that.” You teased, sitting up and then straddling his lap. Ambrose got the idea, chuckling and placing his hands on your hips as you looked down at him. Closing your eyes, you slowly moved in his lap, starting your trance as you rolled your head over your shoulders. Swaying slightly, you got into the mood for the spell, chanting softly as he just admired you. “Sie ego nix. Frigora ventos” you chanted, making the warlock look up at your beauty. The way that your hair trailed down your shoulders, power flowing through you.. It made you look so- sexy… “Sie ego nix, Frigora ventos.” Ambrose repeated, rubbing his fingertips against your thighs as he tried to lend you his power.

The room slowly grew colder, finally a few snowflakes landing on the both of your overheated bodies. It was a nice change from the heatwave that Greendale had been experiencing.. Especially knowing that it was only the two of you whom would be experiencing the phenomenon. As you opened your eyes and looked down at him, the male chuckled and shook his head. “Seeing you defy the laws of nature.. Who could look more sexy doing such a thing?” the man flirted, pressing a hand on your lower back, his palm flat against your skin as you leaned down to press your lips against his.

“I happen to think that you look sexier defying the laws of nature.. But despite that, I know that it would start an argument that neither of us are really looking forward to hashing out. Who is sexier.. I happen to think that there are much better ways to settle the score.” The look of mischief in your eye only made a shiver travel up Ambrose’s spine, nipping at your lip for a moment before he flipped yourposition, letting your head fall back against he plush pillows.

“Hmm I think that you’re right about that.. Though the snow  doesn't look to be cooling you down too much… still as hot as ever.” the man mentioned, his fingers brushing underneath your shirt and then swiftly pulling it over your body. Clicking his tongue he just shook his head and looked down at you. “Now it seems that I am just making it worse, aren't I?” he chuckled, rubbing at your now exposed sides, the cool air filling the room starting to make your arousal more apparent as your nipples hardened underneath your bra.

“Ambrose- You’re play a dangerous game.. And I hope you know that I don't take well to being teased.” you warned, moving your hand down his chest and towards the bottom of his navel, just looping your finger into the elastic of his pants. Ambrose grunted as it snapped, relieving the pressure that was building within his boxers before it was quickly fired back upon him. You knew just how to get a rise out of the male, passion filling his gaze as he now held your wrist above your head.

“It’s you who is the dangerous one, Little Willow.” he smirked, using your nickname against you, the very name that made goosebumps travel up and down your frame. Ambrose had such an effect on you.. And while neither of you ahd ever actually uttered a semblance of the word ‘love’ you both knew it to be true in your hearts. Ambrose Spellman was the moon to your night, the stars to your sky.. The blood in your blood ritual- and what have you. He was the very person that you felt you couldn't stand a world without.. And though he had forced you to promise that you’d never allow him to hold you back, you would always come back to him.

But Ambrose didn't give you the time to articulate any of that, moving his lips down to your neck and sucking on that one spot above your collarbone that drove you wild. He knew your body after all of these years, every curve, every line.. The things that you loved and the way he could make you writhe underneath his tender touch. As you arch your back against him, your leg moved between his thighs, brushing your foot against the hardening bulge in his boxer shorts that was becoming more apparent as his kisses continued downward. Stopping his decent for a moment, Ambrose looked up at you with a warning look, clicking his tongue. “Darkheart.. You had better not be trying to get  a rise out of me.. In the- literal sense.” he warned, his tone taking a lower note to it, before he kissed right above your navel.

You on the other hand, only smirked and played coy. “I don't know what you mean.. Besides if that were what I was intending, I would say that you already had a head start.” you mentioned, motioning to the package in his shorts that was growing more aggressive. Ambrose sighed and then tugged your shorts down, not going as easily as he tended to, not taking his time. YOu were trying his patience with your teasing, and he knew that he just needed to get this show on the road- you were leaving for Fance the following night and well.. He needed to give you both something to remember in your time apart. “Yes well, I think that we will both get caught up in time.” he said, looking down at your panties and seeing the wet spot that only his words and tantalizing kisses had created.

Ambrose wasted no time in touching you, moving his fingers over your center through your underwear, brushing up against your clit in a way that made you jump slightly from the sensation. That reaction made him smile, before he moved down, gently mouthing over your core while his other arm kept careful hold of your hips. He didn't need you bucking up too excitedly, not when he was trying to drag this out. That small lining of your underwear separating him from what he truly wanted to taste, was driving him crazy. And so it wasn't long before he cast it off, pulling it down your legs and letting it fall to the other side of the room as he threw the lacy fabric carelessly. It wouldn't be the first time that you had lost your underwear in the confines of his messy room, but it was all worthwhile when his mouth continued its ministrations, nipping and licking at the sensitive bud between your legs. Sometimes you swore that Ambrose was a sex god- that he knew you as well as he knew the back of his hand.. But it seemed that your fun had only begun, as he pulled back, his chin glistening with the juices of your arousal. He had gotten you good and worked up.. But finishing you off then and there was never his intention. No, Ambrose was selfish in that way.. He wanted to feel you.. But not before you had your fun as well.

Ambrose had made no effort in removing his robe- in fact.. You thought it strange, but at times, getting him to remove the sash and have it open was even more erotic than the removal and exposure of his full body to your hungry eyes. He looked like a man who knew what he wanted, and how to get it.. Almost like a bachelor in a sense, one who needn't stoop down to any woman. But as he looked at you, there was a look that you could never get enough of. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world for him. And that may as well have been the truth. Ambrose had never really had that sort of a connection with anyone else… and somehow he wished that he had met you before he came upon Aleister Crowley.  Maybe you’d be the one to talk him out of his idiotic intentions. Maybe then he’d be able to accompany you on your adventures.

But for now, this was all the adventure you needed, seeing the lust in his eyes as you both gave into your most carnal needs. Sitting up, you crawled to the edge of the bed, hungrily pulling him by the silk of his robe and in for another kiss. He was standing there, just smirking before your lips crashed into his, as if admiring his work. But at your touch, it seemed that all of his hesitation and need to drag things out had subsided. He needed you, and he needed to feel you now. There was no more time for the teasing and foreplay, not with his current thirst for you, spreading your legs and laying you on your back as he freed his member and kicked off his boxers in a haste.

Ambrose had lined himself up at your entrance, his breath hot against your neck as he looked into your eyes. Giving him the nod of approval he so desperately craved, you pressed your lips against his, as he pushed himself in, his hands now gripping at your hips once he was flush within you. Gasping out, you shut your eyes, Ambrose grunting in pleasure as his lips trailed over the skin of your neck. It was a bit rough, and sporadic the way that his hips moved.. But there was a method to his madness, ever push of his hips displaying a passion and feeling for you that only his movements could convey. “Fuck- Y/N. Satan be praised.. I am going to miss you.” Ambrose groaned, pumping his hips against yours in a way that let a sound linger in the room. The snow had begun to fall a bit more forcefully- though not nearly enough to be sticking. Each of his movements having an effect on the two of you in making the magic surrounding you intensify. Who knew that giving into such lustful actions would make things more powerful- if that were a thing, no wonder it was common for witches to have orgies in order to harness their energy for a large spell.

“I’ll come back.. I always come back to you Ambrose… Ah~” you groaned, as ambrose moved his hand to your thigh pulling your leg over his hip so that he could get a better angle. Ambrose felt his heart warm at that thought. Something so strange for a warlock to admit, seeing as they were cursed to love no one but the Dark Lord.. then again with you it seemed like there was a bit of an exception.

Ambrose was close, and you felt yourself nearing your release as well, dragging your nails down his back in a way that drew blood- soon to be soothed by the snow that was falling down. Grunting, he pumped in a few more times, before pulling out and releasing, falling to your side as his chest heaved, the white gently covering the dark silken pillows soothing the marks you;d left. Ambrose looked over at you, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh Ambrose nodded. “I’ll be waiting..” his tone was sincere, before he spoke once again. “To be fair. I have no choice in the matter.”  the warlock teased, a gentle smile on his face no matter how sad the comment.

[serendipityunho]

No Strings | 강여상

↳ PART FOUR

GENRE: angst, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, college au WARNINGS: explicit language, heartbroken mingi :’)

Word Count: 1.8k

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Eujin never showed that side of her to anyone, the side of her weakened state. Everyone saw her as that girl, the girl who took no shit from anyone, the girl who could honestly brush off anything and leave wrecks unscratched. Not in this mess. 

Yeosang didn’t bother defending himself at all, he was a blunt person after all. There was no point in lying about what happened when there was literally evidence of it on her phone, probably deemed tainted now. 

“Why did you do it?” Yeosang’s eyes stayed glued to the ground, head slung low as he leant forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Just say you’re done with me and let’s get it over with-” 

“I’m asking you why? Why did you get with me even though you were going to crawl back to her?” Eujin squeezed the ice pack, hands aching and burning from holding it for too long.

“I don’t know” Yeosang carefully took the ice pack from Eujin’s hands, pressing it against his swollen face before leaning back against his couch.

“Don’t know or don’t want to tell me?” Eujin genuinely cared. She cared about things, especially things that had a necessary reason. 

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be yelling at me?” 

“I already yelled enough for today. And, I care because you were the one who made this mess. If it wasn’t for you, then maybe I wouldn’t have let everyone see that side of me. They probably think I’m psycho now” Eujin scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest as she paced back and forth, glaring at Yeosang.

“Everything has to be my fault doesn’t it?”

“That’s because it is your fault, idiot” 

Yeosang didn’t know what to say. Why didn’t he just leave her? Save the trouble of confrontation and embarrassment. Heck even a beating.

“I’m sorry”

“You hurt me, Yeosang. I thought you actually liked me, thought that I actually found a decent guy for once” Eujin’s head started subtly pounding, barely managing to keep her voice stable as she attempted not to break down in front of Yeosang.

“I’m sorry”

“Saying ‘sorry’ over and over again isn’t going to fucking solve anything, Yeosang!” Anger got the best of Eujin, except, it wasn’t just the anger Yeosang had caused. It was all the built up anger from herself, she let herself fall into the same mistakes once again. 

“Well what the fuck do you want me to say?” The ice pack landed on his coffee table with an ear-piercing sound, making Eujin flinch subtly in the corner. 

“Just admit it so I can get this over and done with”

“Admit what?” Yeosang knew exactly what she was talking about. 

Eujin narrowed her eyes at Yeosang, scoffing in disbelief as she sat down across from him with her elbows on her knees. She needed him to say it in order for her to fully comprehend her mistakes.

“Just. Admit. It” Their eyes locked hard on each other, searching for some sort of reasoning on both parts.

“I love her” Those words were more than enough for Eujin to blink back her tears, leaning back up from her forward position.

“Great. Now we’re done. See you around, Yeosang” Everything ached, from her heart to the back of her throat as she blinked away tears and pushed the thoughts to the back of her head.

Guilt consumed Yeosang for the rest of the night, pondering and pondering of his mistakes. He knew better than to get into a relationship when his feelings laid with someone else, yet he did it anyways.

Now look at his outcome, he broke a girl who was already broken enough. Looking back, he thought, “What was the point of that?”, absolutely nothing. Did he do it out of boredom? Who knows. The only thing he got out of it was a fit of jealousy and sense of realisation. 

Eujin had already left his apartment by the time the ice melted into water in his plastic zip-lock bag. Yeosang continued staring at the ceiling, arms behind his head as the series of events play over and over again, questioning every decision that was made. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It wasn’t hard to spot a vibrant red-head in the shelves of hard-cased books. Mingi rarely ever wore his thin framed glasses unless he was studying hard. And he never studies hard. So this was a sight to see. 

“Can we talk?” Mingi seemed quite surprised to see Yeosang after the little beating the two had in the parking lot the other day.

“Yeah, what’s up?” The heavy book shut close with a small thump before being slipped back into its slot on the shelf. Mingi’s build was slightly bigger than Yeosang, making it a little more uncomfortable for him to talk to, especially after their little episode. 

“Actually, you don’t mind if we go somewhere else, right?” Yeosang scanned the not-so-empty library, college kids, some even from his course, scattered everywhere at every table with their heads buried in some head-aching pile of words. 

“Uh, sure” Mingi snatched his backpack off his table before following Yeosang closely behind, brewing possibilities in his head of what the deal was.

The two reached the parking lot, it was quite ironic really. With a click of the button on Yeosang’s keys, they stepped into his car, basking in silence before either one muttered a word.

“Is your face okay?” The little ice breaker only made it more awkward than it already was.

“Yeah, I guess. Does it look okay?” Yeosang snapped his head to the side, letting Mingi have a look of his face. 

Mingi felt a slight pang of guilt, the thought of Yeosang rocking up to your place looking like that thanks to him was actually quite nerve-wrecking. He was skeptical that you might not see him the same way again, even after his unexpected confession in your kitchen yesterday.

“Sorry” Mingi offered a small apologetic smile. He actually found it quite funny that he was sitting in the car with a guy he beat up literally two parking spots away from this one he was in. 

“It’s okay, I would’ve done the same for the girl I loved too” Yeosang turned back to the front, softly tapping his fingers on his steering wheel.

“Is it that obvious?” 

“It’s more prominent than your hair, dude” Mingi’s face flushed, head falling back against the cushion as he kept silent.

“So what’d you bring me out here for?” He was genuinely curious, well, who wouldn’t be?

“Well, we both love her, that’s for sure” 

“Mhm?”

“And only one of us can have her”

“You don’t have to worry about anything, Yeosang” 

As much as it hurt for Mingi to admit it, he had to in order for you to find happiness again. Happiness with Yeosang.

“Don’t say you’re planning to kill me or something” Yeosang chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“Nah... You can have her” Mingi’s response took Yeosang for surprise. 

He was always a competitive guy, always doing what had to be done in order to win. The fact that Mingi was giving up you, says a lot. But really, he just loved you that much. Loved you so much he’d rather see you happy than him, even if it meant seeing you with someone else.

“Look, I don’t want to see you all depressed and stuff-”

“I mean it. Trust me, it’s better for her to be with someone she loves too rather than being in a one-sided relationship with me” 

“I’m sorry, bro” Yeosang was hesitant to pat Mingi on the shoulder at first, but then he realised maybe he kind of needed it. 

“Everything happens for a reason. Just make sure you don’t fuck it up otherwise you’d be wasting my potential boyfriend time” The two broke into small chuckles, unbelievably mending their friendship just like that.

“You have my word”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was the epitome of a cliche, you could’ve sworn your window was on the brink of cracking from all the stones being thrown at it. You really didn’t want to open it. At all. 

But, it was tempting by the fact that it was Yeosang’s dorky self putting an effort into collecting stones at the bottom of your apartment building and aiming it high at your window. 

“What do you want? It’s like nine o’clock!” You swung open the window panes as you hissed at Yeosang, slightly worried that he might’ve actually hit you in the face with his pebbles. 

“To talk?” The pool of pebbles held within the bottom of his shirt dropped to the ground as Yeosang stood there, slightly shivering.

“You couldn’t just have called me?” 

“It’s on silent, doofus” 

Idiot, you told yourself. How could you not realise? You were studying after all.

“Wait over there” You let out a loud sigh before shuffling your slippers on and buzzing the intercom for Yeosang to enter the building. 

His padded footsteps against the lush carpet grew louder as he walked up the stairs. You had already opened the door by the time you saw his ashy brown hair peak from the stairs of the level below you.

“What are you doing h-” Yeosang pushed you inside as his lips locked onto yours, hand cupping both sides of your face as you stumbled back in shock.

“I love you” Oh god, did you just hear that right? 

You couldn’t pry your eyes away from Yeosang’s sparkling ones even if you wanted to. Literally. He was still cupping both sides of your face while flashing a bright grin.

“Huh?” 

“I love you, idiot” The sparkle in Yeosang’s eyes shined even brighter as your cheeks balled from the forming smile.

“You do?” Yeosang looked like he barely caught on to your mere whisper, but he did.

“Yes, I do. And I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner” 

There wasn’t another word you wanted to wanted to say in this moment. It seemed like everything was going your way. 

You pushed yourself forward, pressing your lips on Yeosang’s once again, making Yeosang stumble back onto the couch. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the fact that you had him again.

There was no surprise as to the fact that your clothes had once again been piled on top of each other on the floor. His touch was as mesmerising just like you remembered. 

It wasn’t just sex. It was something more than that. The two of you didn’t realise that sooner. 

“Is your face okay?” You traced small circles on Yeosang’s naked chest, legs tangled with his under your fluffy blanket as the two of you laid on the couch.

“I’m glad both you and Mingi care about my face” Yeosang’s deep chuckle filled your ear, making you chuckle with him.

“You spoke with Mingi?” Suddenly, those vague memories came back to you in an instant. 

“Yeah... he loves you a lot” 

“Boy catches feelings easily, I can’t blame him” 

“I can’t blame him either, I mean who wouldn’t catch feelings for you?”

“Ew, stop that”

“Stop what?”

“Being cheesy, it doesn’t suit you”

“Yeah, you’re right. I kind of cringed too”

Man, it felt great having your best friend back- lover. Lover? Either way, it was great.

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4

[soulofatiny]

No fear, I’m here... Ch.7: exposed

warning(s): none...for now

word count: 2.9k

a|n: i’m so sorry this took longer than i had expected to write. i hope you’ll enjoy! happy reading <3

tag: @dearmingi , i’m not sure if you still wanted to be tagged but here it is!

Ch.8

masterlist

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Set opened his eyes alertly and carried his body off the top bunk, careful not to wake you from your current slumber on the bottom bunk. The phase two facility always required nap time around midday to assist in promoting brain activity. Set always snuck out during this timeframe once he cautiously inspected the facility’s format and came to the conclusion that security was the lowest during this time. 

Now was his chance.

Before he exited out of the door, he looked back one last time at your sleeping figure. The sight of you sleeping so peacefully soothed his heart, taking notice of the blanket that was threatening to fall off of your body and onto the floor.

“Just wait a little longer. I’ll get us out of here,” Set whispered tenderly as he covered you with the blanket once more, then attentively made his way out of his shared bedroom with you. 

Set quietly paced through the cold and empty hallways. His heart was pounding against his chest from the pure fear of getting caught one day. Unlike the others who were selected for ZG’s special program, Set lacked deeply in the physical spectrum, making his travel a lot more difficult. He felt a familiar tickle in his throat and he silently begged that it will remain in its place until he at least exited the building. He suppressed the irritation as much as he could and picked up his pace once he saw the double doors that led him outdoors, keeping his steps as noiseless as he could. The cool metal slammed against his palms when he pushed the doors open and as soon as the doors shut behind him, Set erupted into a harsh coughing fit. 

‘Made it in time…’ he thought to himself as the cough began to cease.

“You made it.” 

Set jolted slightly, startled at the voice but was relieved when he turned to see who it was, Wu. The title translated as the Chinese number five, the 5th one that had arrived in the phase two facility out of ten. 

“Are you okay? Your coughing sounds worse,” Wu stated, tone lingered with worry.

“I’m- fine,” Set cleared his throat once more, still feeling the prickling tingles in his windpipe. 

“Does Professor know?”

Set shook his head.

“How about…Nana…your sister? Does she know?”

“No, and she’ll never know about this,” Set urgently declared, more to himself than to Wu. He knows that Wu wouldn’t be able to tell her anything regardless since no one besides your assigned family member were allowed to speak to each other. 

Wu looked down at his feet awkwardly, unable to find the right words but Set broke the silence instead, “Come on. We should go to the fence, I’m sure Seonghwa is waiting.” Wu nodded in agreement and followed Set to the fence that was more like a gated barrier that kept all of the residents locked in place. There were numerous spots where the trees were large enough to keep them hidden from the security cameras. It took Set roughly two years to find these spots, cautious to make sure he wouldn’t get caught. As they walked, they saw a figure that was standing under one of the hidden areas on the other side of the barricade, close enough for them to converse. Once the figure laid his eyes on them, he smiled and waved, “I thought you two wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Hey Seonghwa, we were fine. I just had to wait for Set,” Wu replied cheekily.

“Set…have you found out about anything else?”

Set nodded slowly and cleared his throat, feeling the familiar tickle again, “Initiation day is nearing. I’ve gone through Professor’s documents while she wasn’t looking…” he fell into silence, incapable of announcing the despairing date as Wu and Seonghwa stared at him, palms clammy due to nerves. 

“Initiation d-day is on…October 24th,” he finally announced with a stern look on his face. The two boys’ eyes grew wide upon hearing such a statement.

“T-That’s only one week from now, Set! There’s no way initiation day is that soon!” Wu exclaimed as he shook Set’s shoulders, hoping what he had just heard was simply a mistake but Set only adverted his eyes, indicating that it was true.

“Wu…it’s been three years since the 10th one arrived. The date was clearly written on Professor’s documents. It’s time.”

“Set, Wu… how’s the rest of the residents? Have they fallen into ZG’s psychiatric manipulation? Are there more like you two? How many can we save?” Seonghwa asked a little hesitantly, afraid to actually hear his answer. 

“I’ve made sure that Nana still practiced her independent thinking without Professor noticing… so I’m pretty sure that she won’t be manipulated during initiation. As for the rest of them… I think it’s too late…”

The atmosphere instantly became tense and far too heavy. Seonghwa grasped the fence tightly, “Okay…how about you Wu?” 

“I’ve tried b-but my assigned family member...” Wu’s voice cracked, “I-It’s too late…” he finally answered as he covered his burning eyes with his arm.

“I see…” Seonghwa sighed, “We were too late…” 

Set placed his arm on Wu’s shoulder, trying to provide some sort of comfort during this heavy conversation.

Seonghwa let out a shaky sigh once more and extended his hand as far as he could through the spaces of the fence, as looked at the two boys with a determined look, “I’ll get you both out of there. Nana too. We may have been too late…but we can still save three lives.”

The two boys mirrored Seonghwa and reached for his hand. Seonghwa grasped their hands and met their eyes with resolve, “We recently gained two new members and they know a lot about ZG’s organization. With them and including Hongjoong, we will do everything we can to get you all out of there.”

“Thank you, Seong–“

“Brother, where are you? Professor is looking for us!”

The three boys were startled upon hearing your voice that was at a decent distance but was gradually nearing by.

“Brother! Are you out here?” you called out again and waited to hear a response but was only faced with silence. 

You continued to look around and saw two figures standing with another on the other side of the fence. There was no way that an outsider would be near this place since Professor told you before that it was isolated. You rubbed your eyes in disbelief and then looked once more with more focus but only two figures were standing there. 

‘I guess it was my imagination,’ you murmured and made your way over to the two figures alertly to see if one of them was Set and you were surprised to find that one of them was, indeed, your brother.

“Brother…” you called out again, a little more timidly this time since you weren’t used to others being so near.

Your brother and the boy turned to you and Set smiled, “Nana, what’s wrong? Why are you out here?”

“Nap time is over. Professor is looking for us…” you answered as you hid behind Set, who chuckled at your action.

“It’s fine, Nana. This is Wu. We were just out here for some fresh air. Say hi.”

You peeked over Set’s shoulder and made eye contact with Wu who was giving you a friendly smile. You finally moved to your brother’s side and bowed your head slightly, “Hello…”

“Hi Nana~ Don’t worry, I was just leaving. Let’s make our little meeting our little secret from Professor~” Wu answered as he placed his hand on top of your hand gently, and then walked back towards the facility. 

“Come on, Nana. We should go back too,” your brother suggested and you nodded as you both also headed towards the building.

Seonghwa, who was hiding behind one of the trees, let out a relieved breath, “So that’s Nana.. how cute,” he smiled at the sight of you admiring the sky and then shifted his expression more serious and determination in his eyes, “I promise we’ll get you guys out of there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is she doing?”

“She seems to be doing better. I’m...really glad she was able to release some of her emotions.” “Me too… it must’ve been suffocating.”

“Well the sooner we get her out of ZG, the better.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were currently sitting at the boss’ office, sharing updates upon your well-being. Ever since your mental breakdown, Seonghwa had definitely taken notice on how you were distancing yourself from him. He autonomously let out an extensive sigh, exposing the great stress he felt with how he could help break down your walls completely. When he saw you cry on that one stormy day, he felt as if his heart was physically getting ripped out of his chest. Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows upon the memory, feeling his chest tighten. He simply wanted to take your pain away. All of it.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong called, causing the older boy to take his thoughts elsewhere, “Seonghwa…don’t worry. I don’t intend on dragging this out any longer. It’s time we make our move next.”

-

Roughly two weeks had passed since you unveiled your vulnerable state to Seonghwa and although you tried your best to remain unchanged, his deep voice kept echoing within your mind.

“I’ll never leave you behind.”

His tone was so clear and vivid. It strangely provided warmth and comfort whenever you felt your anxiousness approaching within you. However, all of your ease disappears whenever you encounter Seonghwa as you, for some reason, couldn’t bear to completely face him. Whether if it was the sheer embarrassment of exposing such vulnerability to him or your usual habit of always expecting the worst...you didn’t know. But instead of pondering upon your feelings, you exerted your main focus on the mission you’ve been assigned by your boss but it’s been gradually getting more difficult to do so. Each phone call you make with your boss about the members, it felt as if thorns were prickling your throat when the words left your mouth. You gazed at the members from the sideline of the training room. Although they occasionally fool around, they all work hard. Even Yeosang, who lacks in the areas of combat, works hard by using his intelligence to improve the team. Or even Hongjoong, their just leader. Although he doesn’t always train with the rest of the members, you know he’s always working on something to advance their organization.

“What can I do to stop all of this...” you unknowingly whispered, your thoughts free from your mind. 

“Stop what?” 

You looked towards the direction of the voice, completely aware of who it was. 

It was Yunho. 

He joined you on the benches, sitting next to you. You greeted him, and then took your gaze back at the members. 

“So, stop what?” he asked again as he gazed with you. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does matter if it’s something that’s bothering you.”

You looked at Yunho, a little stunned, “What?”

You couldn’t tell but his heart began beating a little faster the second he accidentally let the words slip out of his mouth.

“N-Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” He replied trying to remain nonchalant to hide his flustered thoughts. 

“But you just said it does matter if it’s something that’s bothering m–” 

“No. I didn’t,” Yunho replied, a little more defensive.  

“But you said–”

“You’re just imagining things! God, you talk too much...”

Yunho covered his mouth as the words fell out of his mouth. He silently cursed at himself for not being able to say what he truly wants to say, ‘Don’t worry about anything by yourself’ or even ‘I’m always here to help’. However, instead of saying the wishful lines, he always said the exact opposite of what he truly wanted to say and he despised himself for it.

“Excuse me?” you looked at him, eyebrow slightly raised. 

Yunho panicked and proceeded to say the words that didn’t match with his genuine feelings, “I said you talk too much, Gremlin. What about it?” 

“Last time I checked you’re the one who came over here and interrupted my peaceful time,” you stood up abruptly, feeling your body heat up in annoyance and turned to walk away. 

Yunho extended his hand to stop you but the memory of you yanking your hand back when he did it in the past flashed through his mind, and he slowly put his hand back to his side. 

“Shit...” he cursed at himself for making you angry yet once again and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration with himself.  

“Well, that was rough~”

Yunho sighed, not even having to look behind him to know who it was, “I’m sorry I keep pissing your sister off.” 

Yeosang sat next to Yunho, replacing where you were sitting earlier as he chuckled, “Is it really that hard to say ‘Hey, I know you probably think I hate you but I actually care about you and I want you to rely on me more’?” 

“T-That’s not what I wanted to say,” Yunho could feel his cheeks heat up, frustration and now embarrassment building inside him. 

“Oh yeah?” Yeosang nudged Yunho’s arm and continued teasing, “Then was it, ‘I didn’t think I would fall for you but I actually did and don’t know what to do with my feelings’?” 

“What?” Yunho stared at him astonished, “Feelings for who? The only feelings I have for her is pure dislike. Remember? I don’t want her here. I never did and I never will.”

The words were harsh but both Yeosang and Yunho himself knew that it was far from the truth. Yunho could feel his friend stared at him in amusement and he deeply wished he could simply shrink away from this situation so he stood up a little hastily to make his escape.

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

“Oh? Suddenly?” Yeosang asked, completely satisfied with the flustered state Yunho was in.

Yunho walked away and gave him a small wave, avoiding to look at him. 

“Hey, Yunho! Thanks for at least trying to make her feel better even though you ultimately failed!”

Yunho tripped over his own feet upon hearing Yeosang’s words but finally managed to exit out of the basement with some dignity still left within him although the red hue completely overtook his complexion.

“No…No there’s no way,” he mumbled to himself in disbelief. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stormed out of the basement, anger completely rid from your mind. Deep down, you knew that Yunho only approached you to help despite both of you always clashing in the end. As you were walking down the hallway, you saw Hongjoong walking from the opposite direction.

“Ah, y/n! I was about to call everyone for a meeting. You can go ahead and go to the assembly room. We’ll be there soon.”

A meeting? Was Jongho spending too much money on food again? Or maybe he wanted to talk about Wooyoung’s sleeping habits? You truly couldn’t read the expression on the leader’s face so you simply nodded in agreement as you both parted ways. Upon reaching the assembly room, you knocked three times. A habit that you have formed each time you’ve entered your boss’ office. Shuffling footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door as the door clicks open. Your heart paused for a moment when Seonghwa’s face was revealed as the door opened and if your attentive self was correct, you noticed his eyes widening slightly before clearing his throat and asking you to come in. You mumbled a small thank you and complied, taking a seat on one of the chairs that surrounded an oval table. Certainly, a professional assembly room. Seonghwa closed the door and took a seat that was two spaces from yours, keeping a safe distance. 

“You know you didn’t have to knock. You can enter assembly rooms freely.”

“I know…it’s just a ha–”

Your voice was cut off when the door opened once more, revealing Hongjoong and the rest of the members with some chattering as they walked in one by one. You silently thanked the timing for clearing the awkward atmosphere as they each took a seat, except for Hongjoong who remained standing at the very edge of the table. 

Yeosang sat next to you, “I can tell this meeting is going to be a serious one.”

You looked at him questionably, “How can you tell?”

“Just from the look on his face,” he whispered. 

“Let’s begin,” the leader announced. The room was immediately filled with silence and earned everyone’s attention. Could everyone truly tell that this was going to be a “serious” meeting?

“I’ll cut to the chase,” the leader continued, tone unwaveringly directive, “Y/n.”

You stiffened at the mention of your name as the members including Yeosang turned to face you.

“I know about the secret mission that ZG had assigned to you.”

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-e|n: should i release shorter chapters but more often or release longer chapters but not as often??? please let me know! also please anticipate the next chapter. there’s going to be some drama ahead...